Archive of Our Own ^beta

Todomatsu yawned and rested his chin in his hand, adjusting his beanie with the other hand. It was close to closing time and he was ready to go back to his apartment. His feet were aching— his shoes were cute but not terribly functional, and he was starting to regret choosing fashion over comfort today. He should have known better than to wear them. It wasn’t like him, really, to make a choice like that. He liked to be cute and all, but he was a fairly logical person. He just really needed the pick-me-up of a cute pair of flats today. He hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last couple of days— the last couple of weeks, really— and he was starting to feel it drag him down mentally and physically, his joints achy and his mental capacities slightly dulled.

He just couldn’t sleep by himself. Totty had spent his entire life sleeping between his brothers. He couldn’t soothe himself to sleep, he was used to being patted on and whispered to until he dozed off. 

Totty rested his other elbow on the counter and checked his watch. It had barely been a minute. He glanced around the coffee shop. There wasn’t anyone in there except an old woman with a newspaper, and the other baristas were in the back— so he let his eyes slowly close, just for a moment. He found his mind wandering back to the warm feeling of his brothers’ backs next to him like bookends, and for the first time in a couple of weeks, homesickness tugged at his stomach, painful and wrenching and sudden.

“Matsuno,” a deep voice said, and Totty jumped and stood up, blinking himself awake. Honda Atsushi stood at the cash register, his suit jacket draped over one arm, tie loosened. He chuckled. His sleepy eyes glimmered with laughter. “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” Totty responded, muffling a yawn in his sleeve, and walked over to the cash register. He put in the same coffee Atsushi ordered every day, not bothering to ask if it was what he wanted.

“I think I do. I have a job, too, you know.”

“Yes, and a nice desk chair with lumbar support and the works, I’m sure,” Totty responded as Atsushi handed over one big bill. He rolled his eyes at the cash as he made change. “Do you think paying for a cheap coffee with such a big bill is cute or something? Do the other baristas fall for that?”

“I don’t do it with the other baristas, I just do it to annoy you.”

“Mm. Suck my dick,” Totty grumbled as he handed over the change.

Atsushi just looked at him. The corner of his mouth twitched in a slight smile, and Totty felt his face grow hot. He cleared his throat and tried to look casual as he got to the business of making Atsushi’s coffee, thankful for the opportunity to turn away from him.

Atsushi leaned on the counter. Totty could feel his eyes following him as he made his drink. “So. Are you tired of making coffee for minimum wage?”

Totty glanced at him over the espresso machine, raised one eyebrow. “I don’t know. Read my body language, look in my lifeless eyes. How do you think I feel about this job?”

Atsushi chuckled, a low laugh that rumbled in his chest, and Totty grinned to himself. He loved that, how low his laugh was. He wondered how it would feel to have his head against Atsushi’s chest while he laughed. However, he was pulled away from this thought as Atsushi rapped his knuckles on the green tile. “Well. I have something that may be of help to you.” He leaned forward slightly. “There’s about to be an opening in my office.”

“Wow,” Totty said, feigning interest. He yawned and rolled his eyes. “That is helpful. Or it would be, if I had a degree in business and was a completely different person.”

Atsushi laughed, and Totty felt the corners of his mouth curl as he picked up the milk jug. “Ha-ha. You’re very clever, your sarcasm cuts me like a knife as always,” he said, rolling his eyes back. He loosened his tie. “But really. It’s a secretarial position. You would be great for it. I spoke to my boss about you.” Atsushi paused, took a deep breath, and then said, “He wants to interview you.”

“Shut up,” Totty said, grinning, and Atsushi held up his hands, laughing and looking so gratified and proud of himself Totty wanted to punch him in his smug face and kiss him at the same time. “Shut up!”

“I know, I’m pretty great,” he said, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

“No fucking way.”

“Actually, yes fucking way. Yes fucking way, Todomatsu.”

“Atsushi! You must have said some really nice things about me.” Totty paused mid-coffee to lean on the counter. 

It was Atsushi’s turn to blush. Totty could see the color in his cheeks, blossoming under his tan. He shrugged up his shoulders. “Just what I think is true. That you’re personable, well-spoken, tech-savvy, handsome, a snazzy dresser, and hideously underemployed.”

Totty snorted, wrinkling his nose and looking down at the drink as he added foam, turning his face away slightly because he could feel himself blushing. “Did you really use the word snazzy?”

“Maybe I did. You haven’t met Work Atsushi, sometimes he says things like snazzy.”

“Work Atsushi sounds like a nerd,” Totty said over his shoulder. He glanced in the reflection on the fridge and caught Atsushi looking at his ass. He smiled to himself and shook his head. “When is the interview?”

“Tomorrow. At 2:45.”

Totty nearly knocked over the coffee. “Tomorrow?!”

“Yes, sorry.” Atsushi winced and shrugged. “That’s the thing, he kind of has to squeeze you in before they start looking for inside hires and people’s daughters and things like that… so it has to be soon.”

“Holy shit, I can’t be ready by tomorrow! Atsushi, I haven’t had a job interview since I got this job, and I wore fucking leggings and a sweater to this interview. You work in a high rise! There is no fucking way I’ll be ready tomorrow, I can’t possibly—”

“Yes you can. Here.” Atsushi opened his briefcase and pulled out a thin manila folder. He pushed it across the counter. “This is everything you need to know about the office. I wrote it during my lunch break today.”

“You should eat lunch, Atsushi.”

Atsushi waved him off. “Anyway. Here it is. Read this tonight. Come to the office tomorrow at 2:30. Arrive ten minutes early, wearing dress pants and shoes, a blazer, and a tie. Look cute, but not too cute. Professional. But fashionable. And lose the nose ring. Probably skip the eyeliner, too.”

“What if I don’t want to work somewhere where I can’t wear eyeliner and a nose ring?” he pushed the coffee across the counter.

Atsushi took the coffee and remarked over the rim of the cup, “Then you’d better learn how to make better foam, Todomatsu.”

Totty sighed and rolled his eyes. “Go on.”

Atsushi swallowed his coffee and made a humming sound low in his chest. “Ah. Spectacular. Maybe coffee is your calling. Maybe I’m wrong to take you from this place after all.”

“Fuck you. Go on.”

“My boss. He’s an old, old man. He’s a little scary at first, but he’s a big softie, I promise. No need to be afraid of him. He has a photo on his desk of him and his brothers— there are four of them, so if you run out of things to talk about you have that in common.” he paused for a moment, then added, “Y’know the whole… big family, lots of brothers… thing.”

Totty hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess so? You do have five brothers, right? That’s not some other cute barista I know?” Atsushi said. 

Totty shrugged. “No, no, it’s just… nevermind.”

“You can talk about… I dunno. Big family stuff. Group hugs?”

Totty pulled a face. “Oh my god, have you ever been around any siblings ever?”

“I’m an only, I don’t know how to do anything other than play quietly,” he answered with a laugh.

Totty just shook his head. An only. Yeah, he could have guessed that about Atsushi.

“Well.” Atsushi tapped the manila folder. “Everything you need to know is in here. If you need anything, feel free to text me. If you have questions. Or if you just…” Atsushi shrugged, looked away, and then added coolly, meeting Totty’s eyes again with a decisive gaze, “… feel like texting me.”

Totty shrugged, picking up the manila folder and glancing through it. He put on a cool, collected expression, even though internally his stomach was full of butterflies. “Do I even have your number?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested. “I don’t remember.”

Atsushi paused for a moment, sipping his coffee, and then remarked, “It’s cute when you pretend like you don’t care if I live or die.”

Totty wrinkled his nose and gave Atsushi a little smile. “Who says I’m pretending?” he remarked, which made Atsushi laugh, then continued to look through the file. “This is thorough. You really want to work with me, huh?”

“Our last secretary was old and not very attractive. It would be nice if the person at the desk directly across from my office was a little easier on the eyes. I just think it would make me work a little harder.” Totty smiled at him over the file, and Atsushi grinned back. He checked his watch, and remarked, “Well. If I don’t get out of here I’ll get caught in traffic.”

“Did you say that just to remind me you have a car?”

“Yes.” Atsushi laughed. He held up his hands. “You caught me.” Totty chuckled and shook his head. “But seriously,” Atsushi went on, heading toward the door, walking out backwards. “I have to go so I don’t get caught in traffic in the car that I own and drive—”

A woman came through the door and Atsushi, still walking backwards, nearly ran into her. He apologized profusely, his face red. Totty laughed, covering his mouth with his hands. The woman said something and walked toward the bathrooms. 

Atsushi winced and looked back at Totty, who remarked, “Very cool. Very smooth.”

Atsushi just laughed and scratched the back of his neck, adding, “Seriously, though. See you. Please read that folder.” 

“Okay, I will. See you tomorrow.”

“2:30?”

“2:30.”

Atsushi nodded and winked.

“Don’t wink at me, Honda.” Totty laughed.

“I’ll stop winking when you stop doing that cute smile,” he responded.

Totty laughed, one of his hands covering his mouth. “What smile? I’m not smiling, you don’t make me smile, not at all.”

“Whatever. See you, Todomatsu.”

“See you,” Totty said. Atsushi waved one more time and left the store.

Totty finished his shift absolutely glowing. As he moved from the espresso machine to the blender to the fridge he walked on air. His customer service was the best it had been all day, and his foam was even better. Atsushi always made him feel that way when he came in, like he was walking around bathed in a spotlight. He felt so good he almost forgot he was running on four hours of sleep and two shots of espresso. Atsushi was better than any sleep or caffeine. 

Totty didn’t think he would ever even consider being interested in Atsushi if he lived at home. Honestly, he kind of assumed his whole life that he was straight because it seemed like everyone else did. His brothers were at least relatively straight, he was pretty sure— perhaps with the exception of Kara, who Totty had caught checking out men a few times while they were fishing. Well, to be fair, his brothers probably had just as complicated a relationship with sexuality as Totty did— Totty just wasn’t terribly observant. He knew that about himself. He had only noticed Kara’s universally wandering eyes because they spent a lot of time together. It would take one of the other four shaking him by the shoulders and shouting “I’m queer!” in Totty’s face for him to notice, probably.

But that was beside the point. The point was that they only ever talked about girls, even if his brothers did think about men that way, too. Totty hadn’t even realized until he got out of the house that even though he liked women and they were cute and he wanted to kiss them and all, he liked men a little more often— aesthetically, at least. And then, once he spoke to them, emotionally, too. Not to mention that he… thought about men most of the time when he… erm… took himself in hand. He had always disregarded that as something that happened to everyone— but now that he was alone and he didn’t have constant commentary from five other young men trying to prove how fucking straight they were, he was realizing that he’d had crushes on men most of his life. And that he had crushes on men now. 

Well, really one notable crush. 

The night he had realized he was crushing on Atsushi it was because Atsushi walked him from the bar to the bus stop and shared his umbrella. That was all it took— the smell of rain and alcohol and Atsushi’s cologne and the feeling of Atsushi’s hand in the small of his back. Totty went home and took the Kinsey scale test seven times over.

He guessed a coming out was in order at this point. Even Totty knew this was the sort of thing he was supposed to tell his family. But he couldn’t find a good time to tell any of them. Was he supposed to text Choro a Nyaa Chan meme and then in the next conversation tell him he’d had a massive paradigm change? Whatever. So he just didn’t.

Instead he just floated and glowed and thought about the shape of Atsushi’s nose and the length of his eyelashes and the way he called him Todomatsu and never Totty and did what Totty did best— kept it all to himself. 

The post-Atsushi afterglow had worn down somewhat by the time he put up his apron and walked to the bus stop. It was starting to drizzle and he pulled his sweater closer around his shoulders, feeling the dampness start to sink into his skin. He thought about what Atsushi was doing right now. Probably curled up in his big giant bed with a book, wearing a cable-knit sweater and the thin glasses he sometimes wore when he read the morning paper at the counter in the coffeeshop. Totty thought it was probably warm there. He had never been to Atsushi’s apartment, but he imagined it was all chrome and hard angles and Atsushi was so soft in the center of it, with the little paunch that Totty could sometimes see the outline of when he wore thin dress shirts and all of his soft expensive sweaters and…

The bus pulled up, brakes screeching, and Totty was reminded abruptly that he was on a rainy street corner and not in Atsushi’s imaginary apartment.

Even with his sweater the rain had given him a chill, so he was grateful for the warm bus. As he walked to the back, he flashed a smile at a cute girl standing by the middle door. She blushed, smiled back, and looked at her phone. He relished the burst of confidence the interaction gave him as he took his seat.

As soon as he sat down, it hit him how tired he really was. His feet ached in his flats and he could suddenly feel the muscles in his back start to throb with pain. He had only gotten four hours of sleep the night before— and the night before that it had been three. He pulled out his phone and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the screen. He looked like he was dead— heavy, dark circles under his eyes. He opened his phone camera and frantically looked more closely. He wiped underneath his eyes to see if it was just melting makeup from the rain. It wasn’t. He looked like… Ichi. Ugh, he couldn’t believe he’d smiled at that girl looking like this. He really couldn’t believe he’d spoken to Atsushi looking like this. He put away his phone and slumped in his seat, leaning his forehead against the window. Watching the city pass by, the rocking of the bus rhythmic and soothing, he wanted to fall asleep right here, with his forehead against the cold window and his hip pressed against the warm body of the man sitting next to him. His eyes slowly blinked closed and the sounds of the bus seemed further and further away. He could… he could just… just…

The bus went over a pothole and he sat up with a jolt, blinking awake, wiping away drool at the corner of his mouth. As he sat up the woman beside him shifted— wait, hadn’t there been a man there before? He looked up at the front of the bus and found that he had slept through four stops— fortunately none of them his own, but still. He hadn’t even known he had fallen asleep, and how was it fair that he couldn’t sleep in his own apartment but he could sleep here, on a smelly bus packed with other people and—

Oh. Duh. The bus had other people. 

He managed to stay awake the rest of the ride, turning the brightness all the way up on his phone in an attempt to keep his eyes open. Soon enough it was his stop, and his knees seemed to shake as he descended the bus steps. His hands fumbled with his keys and it took what felt like several minutes for him to get through the front door. He stood at the foot of the stairwell, feet throbbing in his shoes, and ultimately decided to take the elevator even though he only lived on the fourth floor.

In the elevator he leaned against the wall and checked his phone. He opened his conversation with Atsushi and closed it and opened it again and tried to think of something cheeky to say. He was too tired to be cheeky, though, so he just closed out of his messages and decided Atsushi could text him first if he wanted to talk so bad.

When he finally got into his apartment, he collapsed on the futon, kicking off his flats and throwing his sweater across the room and groaning audibly at the relief of being horizontal. He smelled strongly of coffee and once upon a time that had been a comforting smell for him, but now it was, ugh, it was… he tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it on the ground, then turned over onto his back, unbuttoning his jeans and flinging one arm across his eyes. 

Totty focused on his breathing. In and out, slow and even.

Go to sleep, go to sleep.

He thought of Atsushi wearing plaid pajama pants, standing in front of a bathroom mirror and shaving his face.

Go to sleep.

He thought of nighttime thunderstorms, of five other sets of hands patting his back and his head when thunder shook the house.

Go to sleep. Go to sleep.

He thought of his brothers. He wondered what they were doing, what kinds of days they were having, whether or not they tossed and turned at night and couldn’t sleep without two evenly breathing people on either side of them. He wondered if they were thinking about things before, too.

Go to sleep. Go to sleep!

He thought of gentle shushing, thought of Kara scampering out of bed to ask their mom if they had another night light because the one in their room had gone out and Totty couldn’t sleep. He thought of footie pajamas and Jyushi tapping his shoulder to get him to look at his silly face, trying to make him laugh. He thought of Choro trying to come up with a bedtime story on the spot, stammering and not making any sense but doing his best, of Ichi curling up beside him with his head on his shoulder, and Oso—

He sat up and put his face in his hands. He wasn’t going to fucking sleep.

Totty sat there like that for a while, listening to the sounds of his apartment building— people arguing the next room over, a bed creaking upstairs. Well, at least someone was having a good night. After a moment he picked up the manila folder Atsushi had given him. The folder was labeled “FOR TODOMATSU” in Atsushi’s neat, blocky handwriting, which made Totty smile. It felt like a valentine. He opened it up and started to read through it as he walked to his cramped kitchen and made himself a pot of coffee. A valentine full of business language, he added, wrinkling his nose.

He stood beside the coffee maker as he read. His feet were still aching and he could barely keep his eyes open, and Atsushi’s style of writing wasn’t helping. Atsushi’s writing was very professional— almost coldly so. He yawned as he read it. The coffee maker beeped and he set the folder on the counter. He didn’t stop reading as he poured a cup for himself. Turning the page, he found a corner where Atsushi had doodled absentmindedly— probably while he was talking on the phone. Atsushi always doodled when he was in business calls. When he came in and actually did work at the coffee shop Totty would always find napkins full of scribbles later. The corner of the page was filled with little boxes, flowers, and what looked like a comic book character— some superhero Totty only vaguely recognized from Oso and Kara’s comics. Very cool, Atsushi, he thought to himself, grinning. He’d always suspected Atsushi was a nerd. Totty downed one cup of coffee and then drank another, read until he couldn’t bear to read any more. It was fucking boring. 

He could feel the caffeine kicking in, but he still stared longingly over the manila folder at the futon.

There was no point. He knew he couldn’t sleep. He looked down at the file again. Well, maybe he could if he was on the bus and reading Atsushi’s business writing. 

He forced himself to read a little more, but the more that he read the more that it was not only snore-inducing but also, strangely, anxiety fuel. The more that he read about what they did in Atsushi’s office and what his responsibilities would be as a secretary and what kinds of people he would encounter the more he felt like Atsushi had seriously overestimated his abilities. Who did Atsushi think Totty was, anyway? Totty was making coffee because that was all that he was really trained to do. He didn’t know anything about fax machines or contracts. He’d never even used a copier. The only thing he had going for him in this interview was that he was cute and Atsushi apparently thought he was intelligent and capable for some fucking reason. The more he read, the more his stomach clenched up in a nervous knot. Atsushi had stuck his neck out for Totty, hadn’t he, and who the fuck was Totty to walk into a high rise and ask for a desk job? He was just some NEET with a nose ring who happened to know how to use a fucking computer. That didn’t make him tech-savvy, that made him a fucking millenial. Besides, was this serious business really going to make Totty, who was high femme as hell and pursed his lips when he smiled and usually wore lip gloss, the face of their office? Really? No fucking way this guy was gonna take Totty seriously, he was going to get laughed out of this interview wasn’t he, and—

He had to stop, he to stop. It was too much fucking pressure and he was tired and starting to get jittery from the coffee. He set down the file on his rickety kitchen table and took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. He would come back to that later. He would come back to it later! He just needed a minute.

Totty stood there for a moment, holding himself and trying to calm down. He seriously shouldn’t have had the caffeine. He paused for a long moment, then turned toward his closet. He would go on and pick out his outfit. That would make him feel better, more in control. He had no control over what this old dude thought of him, but he did have control over what tie he would wear.

He had a blazer, dress pants, a patterned shirt… a pink tie… no, a salmon tie. That was less queer and more preppy. There wasn’t much point to pretending like he wasn’t queer in this interview— he knew they would figure it out— but still. He envied Atsushi’s ability to blend right in. He hung the clothes on the back of his closet door and crouched next to his small shoe rack. His sandals were there, his flats, tennis shoes, hiking boots… where were his dress shoes? 

Fuck. Fuck! Where were his fucking dress shoes? He shuffled through the stuff at the bottom of his closet, opened the boxes he still had yet to unpack and rifled through them, looked under the futon, under the kitchen table… and those were all the places they could possibly be in a studio apartment! Fuck, where the fuck were his dress shoes? He could feel the caffeine and anxiety squeezing tight in his chest as he stood in the middle of his apartment, his arms crossed, his breathing was shallow. Chill out, Totty, it’s just shoes, he told himself. But it wasn’t just shoes! Atsushi was counting on him to not be an idiot in this interview and was he gonna wear ballet flats? No! Goddammit. Goddammit! He was freaking out, he was freaking the fuck out and he could feel himself spiraling out of control and—

He put his hands behind his head and forced himself to breathe. This was stupid. This was stupid. They were just shoes. Calm down. Just shoes. He knew he was being irrational. The lack of sleep and addition of caffeine were getting to him. He was being irrational. They had to be somewhere in the apartment.

He sat down and looked through the boxes again, but there was nothing in there except a few old photos and some t-shirts from high school. Useless shit. Where were they?

Totty paused for a moment, then put his face in his hands as the realization dawned on him.

Shit.

His brothers had them, didn’t they?

He groaned out loud. One of his brothers had his shoes. They had to. There were only, like, three places they could be in the apartment and they weren’t any of those places, so. His brothers had his shoes. 

He pulled out his phone and scrolled down to their group chat— but then remembered why it was so far down on the list. Nobody had spoken in the group chat since… everything happened, and they hadn’t made a chat without Oso, though to be honest Totty and Choro had spoken about it. So he texted four of his five brothers separately— something he had pretty much never done— and asked them if they had his dress shoes. It was weird, actually, because he hadn’t spoken to them very much since he had left. His last text to Kara was from three months ago and all it was was a fish emoji and a question mark. He hadn’t texted Choro since he got his lease. He had to make a new texting thread entirely to send the message to Ichi. The last thing Jyushi had sent him was a link to some video, and Totty wasn’t even sure if he’d watched it. Ugh. 

Guilt rested low in his stomach. He should have been more intentional about keeping in touch. He was bad about that. Totty was easily lost in his own world, and forgetful of others sometimes. Basically, he was fucking selfish, he thought, but quickly shook that idea away. His brothers hadn’t contacted him either, so.

He got a text back from Choro almost immediately, saying he didn’t think he had them and asking how he would know. How would he know? Totty rolled his eyes and shot back, You’ll know because they’re cuter than your pilgrim shoes.

Fuck you, Choro responded, but Totty knew he wasn’t mad, not really. 

Totty looked through the junk at the bottom of his closet again while he waited for a response. He really needed to be better about contacting his brothers. He hadn’t talked to his parents much either, honestly. He wanted to feel guilty but… he didn’t. Not really, if he was being honest. Totty had been aching for solitude since he was twelve. Maybe that made him a bad person. He didn’t know.

The funny thing about getting what he wanted was that… well. It wasn’t exactly everything he’d thought it would be. Going to work was the best part of his day, and he barely liked that. The days Atsushi came in were good days. The days he didn’t, Totty could barely tolerate the smell of coffee and the constant chatter and the other baristas and all their girl drama. At first he liked riding public transportation on his own and hanging out in his apartment by himself, taking selfies and watching trashy reality television without Choro leaning on the back of the couch telling him it’s trashy or Oso putting his feet in his face until he handed over the remote— but now even those experiences were turning sour. He had grown so used to having his brothers with him that sometimes he would still turn around and expect them to be there. The other day he was laying on his futon scrolling through social media and upon seeing an ad for a shoe sale he had yelled for Kara like he was still in his parents’ house. It was… bizarre. He remembered laughing at himself, but it wasn’t funny.

And then there were the nights, ugh, sleepless and heavy with anxiety and long, so fucking long. Totty had spent so much of his life wanting to be an only and now that he had it, all that it really meant was that he couldn’t sleep at night.

Totty checked his phone— a “no” from Kara. No response from Ichi, he hadn’t even read it. 

He hadn’t gotten anything from Jyushi, not that he expected to. Jyushi wasn’t on his phone much, and it didn’t really matter because Totty knew Jyushi wouldn’t accidentally take his dress shoes. Jyushi didn’t have dress shoes. He only wore slippers and tennis shoes.

Totty’s heart fell into his stomach. The shoes were at home, weren’t they?

He leaned his head back and sighed. He really didn’t want to go home. He sent Ichi another text, this one more demanding, and waited, tapping his bare foot on the floor. A minute passed and Ichi didn’t read it. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Ichimatsu, he added. Fifteen. Twenty. He called, and it went to voicemail, but Ichi didn’t even have a fucking voicemail set up.

Totty was going to have to go home. Dammit.

He sat there for a moment, too tired to get up but too anxious to sit still. When the anxiety became unbearable, he got up and pulled on his shirt, trying to ignore the way his feet throbbed when he put his full weight on them and how much his joints ached and begged him to lie down. He pulled on his tennis shoes, picked up his wallet and Atsushi’s file, and he was out the door. 

He stood on the train to his parents’ house to keep himself from falling asleep on a stranger’s shoulder. The subway was busy anyway, there wasn’t much room to sit. Lots of drunk people out and about. Totty sighed. He could use a drink, he thought, as he started page 5 out of what looked like 40 pages in the manila folder. It really was boring, and the novelty of reading Atsushi’s writing was wearing off. He read a few more pages but eventually stopped, pulling out his phone instead. Still no response from Ichi. Ugh, Totty was going to kill him. He thought of sending something else but there wasn’t much point now, he was three stops away from home. So instead he texted Atsushi.

Don’t take up writing fiction, Atsu. Your file is putting me to sleep.

Totty watched the little ellipsis appear and vanish and appear again. Yeah, not exactly entertainment writing, Atsushi responded. But necessary. Sorry!! And I do write fiction, actually— it’s a lot more interesting than that. Hopefully!

What do you write?

Mystery novels.

Totty chuckled to himself. Holy shit, what a dweeb. Oh, he liked him. He liked him a lot. Nice. When can I read them?

That’s a mystery, too.

Totty grinned but didn’t text back. Sometimes he liked to leave Atsushi hanging a little bit. If he wanted to talk more, he had a phone. Besides, being mildly disinterested was kind of Totty’sthing.

The next two stops went by lickety-split as Totty leaned his cheek against the subway bar and reread old conversations with Atsushi and fantasized about the feeling of Atsushi’s mouth against his neck. When he got off on the stop by his parents’ house, he paused for a moment on the concrete as he realized he hadn’t been home, not even once. Oh, man. Oh, man. He missed home. He missed home so much and he hadn’t even realized it, he thought as he climbed the stairs out of the subway terminal, thinking of his mother’s cooking and the soft couch and the blankets in their bedroom that he could hardly feel the way his feet and knees ached with every step. He could feel his steps speed up as he walked past the street where Chibita set up his oden stand, Totoko’s family fish shop. It was really raining now but he couldn’t feel it. He was almost embarrassed to be so excited to go home. He’d always wanted to leave and now— now here he was, practically running and—

Totty rounded the corner and there it was, he could see it! It seemed smaller now after being away for so long, crammed between two buildings, and Totty could feel himself grin and, and— and then the grin faded. Shit.

Oso still lived at home. Ugh, he really didn’t wanna see Oso, he really didn’t wanna deal with that right now. He had been giving Oso the cold shoulder since everything happened, which was easy enough when they lived seven subway stops apart. But Totty didn’t know what would happen once they were face to face. Would they fight again? Would Oso try to apologize? Totty didn’t know which one would be worse. Either way, Totty knew Oso would probably make him so mad he would end up crying and he didn’t want to do that again.

Thinking about it, he could feel it all again, the angry tears stinging his eyes as he yelled hoarsely at Oso and Oso yelled right back, adrenaline coursing through his body, his hands shaking from the direct confrontation.

He could see Oso shift his weight, roll his eyes, cross his arms, giving an annoyed sigh. “Oh, please, don’t cry, you’re so manipulative.”

A lot of things that had happened in those 48 hours stuck with Totty, but none as much as that one, none as much as Oso watching hot, angry tears run down his face and calling it manipulation. He remembered his indignation at the time, how positive he was then that it wasn’t manipulation, that it wasn’t something he was doing intentionally. But the further away he got from the argument, the less and less sure he felt. Maybe he was being manipulative. In fact, maybe he was a manipulative person. Totty didn’t know. All he knew for sure was that thinking about it made him feel like shit.

He hesitated for a moment or two, but then he thought of Atsushi’s face, his sleepy, soft eyes and the little glasses he wore when he read the morning paper and— he balled up his fists and forced himself to walk to the house. He needed the shoes. He didn’t care if Oso was there. He didn’t care if Oso opened the door and Totty started shedding manipulative tears right away. He was going to get these fucking shoes.

He stood on the front doorstep just for a second to psych himself up, then rang the doorbell. He stepped back a little to see if anyone was sitting on the roof— nobody was, but while he was looking he did see Ichi’s face appear in the upstairs window. Ichi saw Totty and his eyes widened. He waved. Totty twiddled his fingers back. Ichi disappeared. 

Totty could hear music playing inside the house somewhere. He listened harder, trying to see if he could hear anything else— specifically, Oso’s big belly laugh. But he couldn’t.

The door opened and Ichi stood there, wearing pajama pants and a hoodie with soy sauce on the front of it. He was looking especially disheveled and smelled vaguely of weed. His phone was in his hand, Totty noted with frustration.

“Hey,” he said, scratching his chin. “Totty. You look like hell.”

Well. Ichi hadn’t changed. Totty sighed. “Yeah, you too, buddy.” He tried to look over Ichi’s shoulder. Oso would have come to see who was at the door, right?

“Yeah, but I always look like hell,” Ichi murmured. He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at Totty.

Totty hesitated, opened his mouth. “Where is everybo-“

“Oso’s not home,” Ichi grumbled before he could finish.

“Oh. Okay.” Totty paused. Why wasn’t Ichi moving out of the doorway? He was being weird, shifty and strange. Was he always this weird, or had Totty just forgotten? “Where did he go?”

Ichi shrugged. “Out.”

“Where are Mom and Dad?”

Ichi shrugged again. “Out.”

Totty paused for a long moment. Ichi didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his hand on the doorknob, looking straight at Totty and not moving. Totty opened his mouth and closed it. He cleared his throat. “Can I… come in? It’s… um… raining.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Ichi said, nodding and moving out of the doorway.

Totty came in, pulling off his sweater and draping it over the stairwell. The house smelled just like he remembered it. It seemed cleaner, though. Ichi shut the door behind them and hovered next to Totty as he looked around the house. Totty looked over at him and he looked away, shuffling his feet. As Totty slipped off his tennis shoes, he asked, “So. Did you get my text?”

“Mm-mm.”

“What?”

“No,” Ichi responded.

Totty opened his mouth and closed it. What was going on? Had he forgotten how to interact with Ichi? Had Ichi forgotten how to interact with him? Probably not, Totty wasn’t sure Ichi had ever known how to interact with anyone but Jyushi but— this was weird, right? “Your phone is in your hand,” he pointed out.

Ichi looked down at his phone, up at Totty, and back at the phone. “Um… I… have this… cat app… I can’t… exit or I’ll…” he cleared his throat and completed in an embarrassed sigh, “I’ll miss the cats.”

“Fair enough.” Totty couldn’t believe he’d had to put clothes back on and ride across town because of a cat app. “Well, if you’d have read it you’d know I’m here for my dress shoes. Have you seen them?”

“What do they look like,” Ichi responded, looking at his phone again.

“They look like… dress shoes. They're cute. I don’t know, they just… Have you seen any dress shoes around at all?”

Ichi glanced up at him. He shrugged. “I dunno.” he looked back at his phone, tapped the screen a few times. “Big house. Lots of closets. I just live here.”

Totty paused, studied him for a moment. Could he tell he was being massively unhelpful? He’d said Totty looked like hell so he could obviously tell Totty was too goddamn tired to be fucked around with right now, but whatever. Totty rolled his eyes and sighed. “I guess I’ll start with the hallway closet, then,” he murmured, and walked down the hall, setting down the manila folder on the table. He didn’t expect Ichi to follow him— he seemed particularly disinterested in Totty at the moment, almost more than usual— but sure enough, he could hear Ichi’s shuffling steps behind him. Totty gave him an annoyed glance over his shoulder but Ichi didn’t notice. He was still looking at his phone. 

Totty crouched down and started sorting through the shoes at the bottom of the closet, coughing as he stirred up dust. He glanced back at Ichi. He was hovering nearby, one hand awkwardly shoved in his hoodie pocket and the other one holding his phone. “Are you okay?” Totty asked.

Ichi nodded. He continued to hover, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Totty looked at him a moment longer, then got back to the closet. There were plenty of shoes in there— some of them children’s shoes— but none of them were his dress shoes. Totty looked a little longer and gave up, moving to the closet on the other side of the hall. Ichi followed, hovered for a moment, and then leaned on the wall and got back to his phone. Totty pulled out a pair of dress shoes, but they were clunky and plain and clearly belonged to Choro. He could feel Ichi looking at him over his phone. 

Ichi took a breath like he was about to say something, and Totty looked up at him expectantly. When they made eye contact Ichi seemed to freeze up, and he just cleared his throat instead and tapped his phone a few more times.

Oh! Totty realized, feeling like a total idiot. Ichi is trying to make conversation.

“So,” Totty said, and Ichi’s head snapped up from his phone. “Do you want to help me look?”

Ichi’s tired eyes darted to his phone, back at Totty, and then his phone again. He locked the screen and put the phone in his pocket. “Mm-hm,” he said, and got down on his knees next to Totty. In closer quarters now, what Totty had earlier suspected might be possibly the smell of weed made itself known as definitely the smell of weed. 

Totty cleared his throat. “So, so, so. So. Have you just played with digital cats all day, or—?”

“Um. No. I played with real cats, too. And I took a dump. But I was playing the cat game then, too, so.” He took a deep breath, almost like he was nervous? “Um. Took the trash out and. Then. I sat upstairs. And. Now you’re here. So that catches you up.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah,” Ichi responded. For a moment he just moved junk around in the bottom of the closet, but then he made a noise kind of like a sigh and a wince and added, “Oh. Duh. Sorry. You?”

“Um, my day was extremely long. I didn’t sleep well last night. I got up early this morning for yoga, which is something I’m doing now. I went grocery shopping, and I dropped my milk jug in the parking lot. The cute girl who lives in my apartment building is moving, so I helped her carry a few things. And then I went into work, and Aida and Sacchi were being fucking unbearable—“

“Thought you thought they were cute.”

“Yeah, but people can be both cute and unbearable. They’re just loud sometimes, and they always want to talk to me about shit I don’t care about, and it’s just. Ugh. But then things got better because… my—“ he heard himself pause. “—friend Atsushi came in—“

“With the car.”

“Yeah!”

“Thought you kinda hated him.”

“Yeah, but you can be friends with someone even if you hate them a little at first.” Ichi just looked at him, as if this concept was beyond him. Totty waved him off. “Anyway, he got me this interview where he works! Which is good, but it’s a lot of pressure because I don’t… wanna… let him down because… he is my friend. And it’s tomorrow. And I don’t have any shoes. And I fell asleep on the bus. And now I’m here.”

“Todomatsu.” Ichi shook his head. “That’s like… eight days… worth of stuff.”

Totty just nodded as he opened the last shoebox in the back of the closet. Another pair of his mother’s heels. He was starting to wonder if she was hoarding them. “It’s just, ugh, this whole interview thing, I dunno, it’s just a lot—“ he got up and stretched, yawning. “It’s a lot of pressure, you know. Let’s look upstairs.” Ichi followed him as they headed upstairs. “Atsushi talked to his boss for me and everything, you know, and this is like a real job, like in an office, none of us have had those.”

“Nah. Choro.”

“Choro doesn’t count, I mean the rest of us.”

“Oh. Then yeah.”

As they reached their bedroom, Totty went on, “And the whole thing is like, am I actually qualified for this position or does Atsushi have rose-colored glasses about me? I dunno!” The bedroom was messier than he remembered it, clothes strewn across the floor, tissues and dirty magazines nobody was bothering to hide and lots and lots of dirty socks. He could smell weed up here, too. There was music playing from a laptop by the window. Totty paused for a moment, looking around, then completed his thought, “And maybe I’m not serious enough for this job, or something, or maybe I’m not experienced enough, maybe I’m, I dunno, too young or femme or something.”

“Why would that matter.”

“What?”

“Femme.”

“Ugh, it’s— if you were femme, you’d know. Old people are weird, Ichi.” Ichi just grunted in response. Totty stepped over their clothes and remarked, “Wow, you two’ve really trashed the place, huh.”

“Yeah. Uh. You ’n Choro are gone. So.” He shrugged, kicked a pair of jeans out of the way. “It just. Eh.”

Totty didn’t think Choro or himself were either particularly neat, but if seeing this room and knowing it was bad made him neat then maybe he was wrong about that. Totty opened the closet, and found it surprisingly empty. He was used to seeing it full, crammed with six people’s clothes, but now it just held a few sweaters and some crumpled up t-shirts.

Totty paused, doorknob in his hand, and stared into the empty closet. The sight made his stomach curdle. There was an ache in his throat suddenly.

“Totty,” Ichi mumbled, and Totty looked over at him, eyebrows raised. Ichi’s eyebrows knitted together slightly. The ache didn’t leave even though Totty cleared his throat.

“What? Oh, I’m fine, sorry, it’s just— sorry, what was I saying?” Totty said, crouching down and sorting through the t-shirts and shoes in the bottom of the closet even though there wasn’t much there. 

“Uh.” Ichi sat down beside him with a huff. “Interview. The… pressure.”

“Oh, yes. I dunno. I really want to impress…” he hesitated. “Atsushi’s boss. But I don’t know if I have those skills. Like I don’t know how to use a fax machine, y’know? I don’t know how to do that. I can make a really good iced mocha. I dunno. It’s just a lot, I mean it’s exciting, but it’s a lot…” he trailed off. “See any dress shoes over there?” he asked.

“No,” Ichi answered. “Sorry.”

“I don’t see any here either.” Totty groaned and leaned against the doorway to the closet. “Fucking… shit.” He ran his hands down his face and suppressed a yawn. “I don’t know where they are, then. If they’re not here. I don’t know. Maybe I made them up. Maybe there are no shoes!” he let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Wear your… black… um… the ones with…” he snapped his fingers, trying to remember, then traced a ballerina flat on his foot. “Those.”

“Ballerina flats. But the femme thing.”

“Mm.” 

Totty leaned his head back and yawned again, rubbed his eyes. When he pulled his hands away, he realized he had smeared his makeup, but he was too tired and frustrated to care. “Ugh. Maybe I’m not ready for this.”

“The interview?”

“Everything. Living alone.” he sighed heavily and put his face in his hands. “The job, Atsushi, the whole, I dunno, all of it. I’m so fucking tired.” He paused for a long time. Ichi didn’t say anything, and Totty didn’t move his face from his hands. His throat burned but he willed himself not to cry. He really didn’t want to cry over this. Stupid. Crying over not being able to find a pair of shoes. “Sorry for being so negative,” Totty added, voice muffled in his hands.

“Don’t apologize.”

They sat there for what must have been several more minutes. The music playing on the laptop continued softly in the background, something sad and atmospheric and a little spooky and so, so Ichi. Another song played, and another, and Totty didn’t cry. He could feel he was about to, just seconds away from it, but— but he didn’t. He almost jumped when Ichi abruptly put his hand in the middle of his back, rubbed his shoulder soothingly. Totty looked over at him and he avoided eye contact, took his arm back, putting his hand back into his hoodie pocket.

“Don’t give up. Things suck here.” he shook his head. “You don’t wanna be here.” he hesitated, then made eye contact with Totty— for the first time since they had started talking, Totty realized. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Totty responded.

Ichi nodded, then stood up, pushing off of the wall. “Gonna look under the couch. You can stay here. Also we don’t have to listen to this. It’s my sad playlist.”

Totty stopped himself from asking what sort of music his happy playlist contained. He couldn’t imagine it sounding very different. “No, this is fine.”

As Ichi knelt down by the couch, Totty pulled his knees to his chest, watched Ichi search, shining his phone flashlight. He pulled out a few dirty magazines and showed them to Totty with a little chuckle, then threw them into the mess on the floor. He pulled out a glow stick and showed that to Totty, too. 

“We find these everywhere,” Ichi said. “Like Choro never left.”

Totty gave a watery laugh.

Ichi made his way around the couch, making comments as he went— trying to cheer him up, Totty realized. He had never seen Ichi like this before. He still spoke in half-sentences and mumbly grumbly phrases but he was almost… chatty. He was carrying the conversation, anyway. Totty was barely talking at all. Gradually the tightness in Totty’s chest and the ache in his throat went away.

“Not under here,” Ichi concluded, turning the flashlight off on his phone. “Sorry.”

Totty sighed. “Fuck,” he mumbled.

Ichi shrugged. “I’d offer you my shoes but.” He held up his sandal. “These’re my dress shoes.” Totty grinned and rolled his eyes. “So, uh.” He clicked his tongue and leaned against the couch.

Totty just yawned and shook his head. He was so fucking tired. And he had come all the way home and he still had no fucking shoes. He put his forehead in his hand.

“Shittymatsu might have a pair,” Ichi remarked, crossing his arms. “Might have glitter on them, though.”

Totty sighed. “Yeah. He has to have shoes without glitter, though, right?”

Ichi held up his hands. “Does he.”

“I mean, he is a person.”

“Mm.”

Totty shook his head and laughed a little. “Maybe he doesn’t. I dunno.”

“Anyway. Can probably catch him at Chibita’s. He’s…” the corners of his mouth quirked. “Always there.”

Totty put his chin in his hand and grinned. “Is that so?”

“I’ve stopped going. Not worth it.” He sighed and rolled his eyes.

Totty giggled and shook his head as he rose to his feet, stretching. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Ichi grunted. He looked over and scrambled to his feet. “Oh, are you going?”

“Yeah, I should… I guess I’ll… stop by the oden stand. I have to get home, though,” Totty said, and immediately regretted using the word ‘home’ to refer to his apartment. He could see it register in Ichi’s mind, could see the thought flickering in his tired eyes. Totty shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Er— my apartment. I need to, uh—“

“Yeah, yeah. You should get some rest,” Ichi interrupted.

“Yeah,” Totty responded, and started toward the door.

“Hey, wait. Uh, one second,” Ichi said, and, holding up one hand, walked over to the dresser. He opened a drawer and moved some things around, then pulled out a pair of dark purple socks with grey heels and toes, the only neatly folded thing in the entire drawer. He held up the pair of socks. “Uh. These’re my lucky socks. I’ve only worn em once. But. They’re really lucky. I haven’t worn em again because. Er. I dunno, I guess I don’t wanna mess it up. But.” He took a step forward and extended them to Totty, his eyes trained on the socks. “Here. You should wear them tomorrow.”

Totty took the socks, looked down at them. They had small white polka dots and felt soft in his hands. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then said quietly, “Thank you.”

Ichi just shrugged up his shoulders and grumbled, “Mm-hm.” Totty paused for a moment longer, trying to think of the right nice thing to say, but instead, Ichi motioned toward the door and added, “Uh, um. You should probably get going, huh.”

“Yeah,” Totty responded, nodding.

As they walked down the stairs, Ichi pulled out his phone and checked on his cats again— but this time he showed the screen to Totty and explained the game to him. Totty didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d had the game months ago when it was trendy, listening and nodding instead. As Totty watched him point to the screen, the sleeve of his hoodie slipped down his wrist and Totty caught a glimpse of what looked like fresh, thin slices, three or four or so— not today fresh, probably, but within the week fresh at least. His stomach twisted hard and he suddenly felt nauseous. He hadn’t seen cuts like that on Ichi’s wrist since— since, what, high school? He wanted to throw up, but struggled not to let it show on his face. He didn’t know what to do, so he just kept listening, or trying to. It felt like Ichi’s words were falling straight past his ears. He wished someone else was there with him, somebody who knew more about… that. Totty could get nervous sometimes, but he wasn’t… he wished Choro was there or… well, Oso, if things weren’t so… or Jyushi. God, he wished Jyushi was there. Jyushi always knew how to deal with Ichi. But he wasn’t— nobody was there except Totty, and Totty was wholly unqualified to deal with this. So he didn’t. He just panicked internally and nodded.

Things suck here, he had said. What the fuck was going on? What the fuck was going on, what the flying fuck was going on at home.

They reached the front door, Totty retrieving his manila folder from the hall table. He put on a happy face as Ichi opened the door for him and they said their goodbyes. After a moment’s hesitation, Totty pulled him into a hug. He felt Ichi’s body stiffen up in surprise. The hug was short and awkward and extremely stiff. Totty pulled away quickly and crossed his arms, hugging the manila folder to his chest. 

“Uh— thanks?” Ichi murmured, his discomfort palpable.

Totty just nodded. He hesitated, then remarked, “Um, you know, if things really suck here, if you don’t wanna be here, you… don’t have to stay here. You can… you can leave. Independence can be scary but… it feels good, most of the time.”

Ichi just blinked, shifted his weight. He made a little scoffing sound and then shrugged up his shoulders. “Uh. Okay.”

“Okay. I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Love you.” The words felt clumsy. Totty hadn’t told any of his brothers I love you in he didn’t even know how long. It had been a while for sure. The last time he had said it was probably… probably the day Choro moved out. First to Choro, and then later that night to Jyushi, about seven times in a row, holding Jyushi’s face in his hands.

“Love you too.”

Totty hesitated, then headed down the front walk, tucking the manila folder inside his sweater. Ichi said goodbye again, and Totty said it back over his shoulder. He pulled out his phone as he walked, ready to text fucking… anyone who would have any expertise in this area— but his phone was dead. Shit. Shit! 

He put his phone away and sighed, rubbing his eyes. His phone was dead and his feet hurt and now he was carrying this heavy fucking knowledge that sat in his stomach like a stone and it was fucking raining and he still didn’t have any goddamn dress shoes.

He wanted a fucking drink.

The anxiety about the interview, caffeine from the coffee, the slow ache of sleep-deprivation, and now the realization that he had seen something presumably nobody else in his family was aware of all weighed on his body like heavy stones, coursed through his shoulders and arms like static electricity. Everything was so fucked.

Totty rounded the corner. He had never been so happy to see Chibita’s cart. Chibita was holding his hand out, talking about something, probably complaining about the rain. Kara was sitting next to him— on Chibita’s side of the cart!— tilting back in his chair.

As Totty approached the cart, Chibita’s words became decipherable over the din of traffic and rain.

“…fucking rain, dammit! It’s gonna be a goddamn mess getting this thing home, fucking hell!”

“I brought an umbrella,” Kara was saying, and Totty realized he wasn’t doing his Cool Guy voice. His voice sounded small like this. Totty had almost forgotten. “I can hold it over you while you walk.”

“No, you should use it, you have the whole,” he motioned to his head. “Hair thing you spent a lot of time on.”

“Not a lot of time.”

“Okay, Kara-boy.” Chibita chuckled. He looked past Kara’s shoulder and Totty could tell he had caught sight of him. “Todomatsu! What the hell!!”

Kara turned and they met eyes. Kara smiled a small, nervous smile that flickered in and out before he plastered on a big fake grin, ran his hand through his hair, and exclaimed, “Brother!”

It was hard for Totty to smile with all the shit going on in his head, but for whatever reason, seeing Kara’s big stupid grin on his big stupid face made the corners of his mouth twitch up. “Kara. Oh my god. You’re orange.”

And Kara was orange. Absolutely tangerine— his face, his arms, his legs, like orange play-dough. As Totty drew closer and took a seat, he could see little rivulets of paleness where the spray tan had run off in the rain. Kara’s smile dimmed for just a moment but he just laughed it off.

“It’s the lights! The lights!” Chibita said, pointing to the red lanterns above his head. 

“Whatever, orange or not, I’m happy to see you,” Totty said as Chibita got him a beer. That made Kara smile so hard Totty almost regretted saying it. He looked down at the bench as he pulled the manila folder out of his sweater and realized he was sitting in the same seat he always sat, giving himself a tiny amount of space on the bench like he was sharing it with his brothers. He scooted over into the middle of the bench. “It’s been a long day.”

“You look like hell,” Chibita put in. 

“Chibita,” Kara said with a laugh. “How rude! My youngest brother is a delicate flower who never wilts, even in winter.” Kara tilted back in his chair and put his heeled boots on the table, putting up one hand in a poetic fashion. “He is always very beautiful, even on very rainy and long days.”

Chibita just grunted out a little laugh and swatted at Kara’s legs. Kara took his feet down and murmured an apology that Chibita brushed off. Totty watched the interaction with fascination and confusion. Chibita would have reamed out anyone else who put their feet on his cart.

“No, it’s okay, I know I look like shit. Like I said, it’s been a long day.” Totty yawned and took the beer, taking a long drink as he opened the manila folder, flipping through it absentmindedly.

“What’s the fancy folder?” Chibita asked, leaning on his elbows.

“Oh, it’s.” Totty sighed and took another long drink. “I have an interview tomorrow and my friend gave me this big packet to help me know what to do.” He paused for a moment, looking into his drink, head spinning with thoughts about Atsushi loosening his tie and saying his name. It was so weird to call him his friend. Technically it was true, nothing had happened between them, but still. There was more to it than that. He ran his thumb along the edge of the page, feeling the places where Atsushi’s pen had put deep indents in the paper. He cleared his throat. “Actually.” He straightened the pile of papers. “He’s more than a friend. He’s… we’re kind of talking. Talking talking.”

Totty didn’t look up from the papers but he could feel the stillness on the other side of the table.

“Is that so,” Chibita said, but Kara didn’t say anything.

Totty took another drink. He could feel his face was hot, but he couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the coming out. Totty forced himself to look across the cart. Kara was sitting completely still, almost like if he thought he didn’t move nobody could see him, Cool Guy expression completely wiped from his face. Chibita looked at Kara and then at Totty, at Kara and then at Totty, like he was watching a tennis match.

“I think I’m pan,” Totty said at the same time that Kara spoke.

“Oh, okay,” Kara said, and his voice was small and uncool and very nervous. “What?” he added.

“I think I’m pan,” Totty repeated. “Sexual. Pansexual.”

“Well good for you!” Chibita said, nodding enthusiastically. Totty could see him watching Kara out of the corner of his eye. Kara opened his mouth and closed it. He looked like a goldfish, orange and surprised. Chibita looked at Kara and then at Totty again. He drummed his fingers on the table, then smacked his palm down on the wood. Kara and Totty both jumped. “Dammit! Say something!!”

“That’s great!” Kara said, the words bursting out of him like he had been holding them back. His voice sounded high, almost shrill. Chibita put his face in his hands and sighed heavily. “No, really, I’m happy for you. That’s great, I’m glad you… know yourself!”

Totty put his hand over his chest and sighed, then downed the rest of his drink. 

“Whoa, there,” Chibita murmured.

Totty put the glass on the table with a clunk. “Please don’t talk to any of our brothers. I’m doing the whole thing bit by bit. I don’t want everyone to freak out.”

“Do you think they’re gonna freak out?” Kara said, crossing his arms.

“No,” Totty said. He thought about it for a moment longer, then added, annoyed, “I don’t fucking know, just— you won’t tell them, right?”

Kara brushed his hair out of his face and said, dropping his voice into his chest, “You can always trust me, brother.”

“Please take this seriously, this is a big deal,” Totty said. 

Kara blushed and cleared his throat. “No, really, I won’t, I don’t see anyone anymore.”

“Nobody? Don’t you live, like, here?”

“I don’t live in the cart,” Chibita remarked, rolling his eyes. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

Kara just shrugged. Totty paused. Chibita glanced between them and refilled his drink. Kara lived a block away from the house and he hadn’t seen his brothers either. That made Totty feel a little better for falling out of touch. But then he considered that perhaps it was less than unintentional. Maybe they had all been avoiding Kara. He felt slimy and guilty suddenly, remembering joking about him with Ichi.

“That sucks,” Totty mumbled. “Especially since, I mean, you’re like, I dunno, the hero and all.”

Kara looked confused, heavily penciled eyebrows twisted together.

“I mean, since you punched Oso when everything happened.”

Chibita nearly spilled Totty’s drink. “What?”

“You haven’t told him about your big feature film moment?” Totty asked. Kara seemed to shrink, his face red. Totty took this as a sign that he hadn’t. “Oh, yeah. On the day Choro moved out, Oso was…” he hesitated, then said, “Well, the point is, things got bad and Oso was… being a dick and Kara punched him. Rightfully.”

Chibita looked over at Kara, his eyes wide. “No fucking way.”

Kara just scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. 

“Good punch, too,” Totty added as Chibita handed him his drink. “Like an action star.”

“No fucking way,” Chibita said again, softer this time. “Action star Karamatsu.”

Kara grinned a nervous little grin, nothing like his painful smile, his face and ears turning pink, visible even through his awful spray tan. Totty took a long drink of his beer. “Pretty wild stuff,” he added, looking down at his manila folder. He turned the page. 

They were quiet for a few minutes. He was surprised when Kara didn’t brag. Totty would have. He read a little bit more, drank more of his drink. Chibita hummed a little bit to himself. Totty could feel that his face was flushed now, and even sitting down he could feel the alcohol starting to take effect, his body warm and prickling and a little dizzy, which was good because that meant he was already feeling better.

“So,” Kara said, leaning one elbow on the cart. Totty looked up from his folder. “Tell us more about your beau.”

“Beau,” Chibita murmured with a snort.

“We’re just talking, and it’s Atsushi Honda,” Totty responded. He crossed his arms, hugging them around himself, going on, “He’s businesslike and kind and very generous and successful and has all his shit together. And he wears cable-knit sweaters when he isn’t at work and orders his coffee with lots of foam.” He could hear himself mooning over Atsushi. The beer must be doing its job, he thought. He knew that sometimes when he got drunk he tended to disclose a lot of emotional things that normally stayed locked up in his ribcage. The first time he had ever gotten drunk, after a dance in high school, he had forced his brothers to drive him to his crush’s house to tell her how he felt and had ended up crying on her lawn with a boombox in his arms. Basically, Totty didn’t usually get very drunk. But tonight he didn’t really care. He needed to drink, so he let himself sigh a long, dreamy sigh and say into his beer, “He’s so classy.”

“The one with the car and the fancy suit?” Kara asked, and Totty nodded. 

“I thought he was a prick,” Chibita said, and Totty gave him a curious look. Chibita just shrugged. “What? You all talk, I listen. I’m not just an oden dispensary, I do have ears. And every time I’ve heard you talk about him here it’s always all,” he curled up his lip and mimed texting, saying in a cutesy voice unlike his own but not particularly like Totty’s, “What a prick, what an asshole, with his fucking car and his fucking tie.”

Totty snorted. “What was that?”

“You,” Chibita answered with a laugh. “That was you, talking shit, as usual.”

“Love is like a blinded archer, Chibita. It strikes where it will,” Kara remarked, and Totty rolled his eyes, but he caught Chibita grinning, big and cheesy, looking down at his apron and fidgeting with the knot. Huh. “We are all at its mercy. We are merely clay in the hands of love, one can never know what we shall be molded into n—“

“Please, I’m sorry, but you have to stop,” Totty interrupted with a laugh that even he could recognize as tipsy. “Sorry. Too painful. I love you and you are my hero still for punching Oso in the fucking kisser but please, please fucking stop. I’m begging you, I’m already too drunk for this.”

Kara just laughed a little and shifted in his seat. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m just. God, it’s been a fucking long day. And it’s gonna be a fucking long night.”

“Why a long night?” Kara asked, putting his chin in his hand.

Totty laughed and finished his drink. He was buzzed, so his filter was starting to erode. Without missing a beat he responded in a bitterly lighthearted tone, “Oh, I haven’t slept a full night in probably three weeks. Ha, HA.” He was starting to really feel the alcohol in his system now, so it was all feeling very ridiculous to him.

“Totty!” Kara exclaimed. “Sleep is important! What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Totty answered, banging his hands on the table. “Nothing at all! Fill up my fucking drink, please.” Chibita looked reluctant but did it anyway. “I’m doing literally nothing. I just fucking lay there and think about bullshit and I can’t fall asleep and it’s because I’m fucking alone! I can do everything alone, I don’t give a shit! But I got four hours of sleep last night, Kara! Can you fucking believe?” Kara looked concerned, knitting together his eyebrows. Totty laughed another bitter laugh and took another drink as soon as Chibita handed it to him. Kara opened his mouth and closed it, and after a moment Totty regretted sharing. Maybe he was oversharing. He didn’t know. He’d never done that before. He gave a little drunk titter and added, “Ah. I dunno. It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just, you know, like… sleeping in the same room as five other people it… makes it hard to sleep alone.”

“Are you going to be rested enough for your interview tomorrow?” Kara asked, and Totty paused mid-drink.

He swallowed. “I dunno.” he sighed, setting his forehead in his hand. “Maybe I’ll just take a bunch of benadryl.”

“Please, don’t, after you’ve gotten drunk here,” Chibita sighed.

Totty shrugged. “You can’t stop me, Chibita,” he said, and took another drink.

"You know, if you really can't get any sleep alone…” Chibita said, tilting his head to the side and shrugging up his shoulders, “You could just… sleep with Atsushi and then you can stay at his place.”

Kara looked over at Chibita, his eyes wide. Totty could see his face going a little pink. “… Is that what… you would do?”

"Chibita! That's pretty slutty,” Totty remarked over his drink, laughing.

Chibita rolled his eyes but didn’t respond to Totty, focusing on Kara instead. “Me? Sleep w—“ he chuckled and shook his head, one hand on his chest. “…no, no, dammit. I'm just saying, it might be something Totty could do.”

"So you're not slutty, but I might be.”

Chibita rolled his eyes, face ruddying. "Come on, grow up, Todomatsu, it's not slutty if you like him.” Totty noticed Kara kept shifting in his seat. Kara hadn’t looked at Totty once since Chibita had said ‘sleep with Atsushi’. His eyes had been completely fixed on Chibita. Chibita didn’t seem to notice.

Totty waved his hand and remarked dismissively, ”That’s just the sort of thing a slut might say, you know, Chibita. Very slippery slope.”

Chibita groaned through gritted teeth, balling up his little hands. "Stop calling me a slut! It's gonna happen eventually, might as well be when you need to sleep in a bed with someone. That's all I'm sayin. I'm not saying it's not a morally grey thing to do.”

Totty tutted. ”Morally grey is a nice way to say slutty.”

“Shut the fuck—“

"Slut's not a very nice word, Totty,” Kara put in. His voice shook and was very, very uncool. He was visibly flustered, fiddling with the chain around his neck. “For women or men who make love to other men to get a full night’s rest.”

Totty groaned, ”Oh my god, 'make love to,' suck my dick.” He took a long drink. Only Kara.

"That's the other thing,” Chibita remarked, cleaning off a glass, “maybe you don't have to sleep with him.”

“What?” Totty said.

Chibita shrugged. ”I'm just saying maybe you could just... suck him off.”

"'Suck him off,' CHIBITA!” Kara yelped, going positively crimson through his spray tan, eyes wide.

Chibita scoffed, looking over at Kara with his round face all twisted up. ”What, you've heard me talk like this, Kara.”

Kara shook his head, looking down at the cart. ”No, I certainly have not!”

Totty glanced between Kara and Chibita. Totty had never seen Kara get this way about sex talk before. It was weird. Kara had never been one to talk very dirty himself, sure, but he had definitely sat through way grosser conversations than this one. 

Chibita just waved him off and looked back at Totty, adding, “I’m just saying, it’s not that much effort if you really need a place to sleep. Especially if he’s not super experienced, he might c—“

“Chibita, oh my god,” Kara interrupted, his hands over his face. 

Chibita rolled his eyes and snickered, but completed, the corner of his mouth twisted up in a sneer, “Anyway, it might not be a very long endeavor, is my point.”

"This is like a whole new level of Chibita's psychology,” Totty said, laughing hard. “In all the years I've known you I'd never pinpoint you as the type to suck a guy off just to sleep in his apartment.” It was true. He hadn’t expected to have this conversation with Chibita of all people. “Amazing. You think you know a guy.”

"I didn't say that I would, I'm saying you could! Dammit!” Chibita exclaimed, his ears red. He hesitated, then added, throwing up his hands, “And, and, and you don't know! I have... survival skills! I could suck someone's dick if it was beneficial. To me. Or even if it wasn't, maybe I just wanna suck somebody's dick?”

“CHIBITA!” Kara practically shrieked, pulling up the front of his shirt to hide his face. Totty laughed.

"I'm just saying, who fucking knows?” Chibita went on, huffing, crossing his arms, “Not everything I do has to be supervised and approved by a Matsuno, you know!”

"Tsk, tsk. Chibita's a slut.”

“Oh my god,” Kara said inside his shirt.

"Todomatsu! I'm not giving you advice anymore!!!”

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll stop pointing out that you're such a slut.”

“Dammit."

"A slut in the making, anyway. Theoretical slut.”

"Shut up. Why did I think this conversation would go any way but this.”

Kara finally emerged from his shirt, saying, ”Come on, Totty, that's not very nice. Sexuality is a complicated and beautiful thing, like so much else in nature it-“

"Please, Kara, oh my god,” Totty interrupted. He finished his drink and extended the empty glass to Chibita.

“Haven’t you had enough,” Chibita grumbled. He said it so flatly it wasn’t even a question. “You have an interview tomorrow.”

Totty sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not until like two, I’m a big boy, I know what I’m doing, Chibita. And don’t get pious now, I actually have money to pay you today.”

“Do you really,” Chibita said.

“Yes, I have a job,” Totty laughed.

“You’ve had that coffeeshop job for a while and you’ve never been very committed to paying me before,” Chibita remarked, but he took the glass and filled it anyway. Nobody said anything for a moment. Totty watched Kara’s blush go down. He rested his cheek in his hand and looked at Chibita with soft eyes, and not the ones he did when he was being goofy and ridiculous and fake— really real, gentle, sweet eyes. Chibita seemed to feel him looking and glanced over at him. When they made eye contact they both blushed and looked away. Totty glanced between them, air thick with awkwardness and tension. He could see why Ichi had been avoiding the oden cart now. Jesus. Totty paused, drinking his beer, and then snapped his fingers and exclaimed, “Oh! Fuck, I almost forgot. I came here because I need a favor.”

Kara slicked back his hair, gave him finger guns. “Anything, brother.”

“I came here because I was wondering if you have plain dress shoes. Plain as in, no sequins, no sparkles, please, nothing… bedazzled. As unlikely as I think that is.”

“Yeah, he’s been interviewing constantly, so—“ Chibita started, but when he looked over at Kara, Kara only smiled sheepishly and shrugged up his shoulders. Chibita opened his mouth in disbelief. “Have you been wearing sparkly shoes to job interviews?”

Kara held up his hands. “I haven’t not been wearing sparkly shoes to job interviews—“

“Holy fuck,” Chibita sighed, putting his forehead in his hand.

Totty laughed and shook his head. “Ichi told me you wouldn’t have any,” he remarked, taking another drink.

Kara just winced and shrugged again, then asked, “You’ve seen Ichi?”

“Yeah, I just came from the house.”

“How is he?”

“He’s…” Totty paused, thinking about the slices on his wrists, the way he had followed Totty around, the expression in his eyes when he’d told Totty he didn’t want to be at home. He tapped his fingers on his glass, fingernails clicking. “Uh. I dunno. I think somebody needs to be… keeping an eye on him. I think he needs to get out of there, too, though. I dunno. Uh. Um. My head is all muddled, sorry. He told me things suck at home.”

Kara hummed and fiddled with his necklace. “I never see him.”

Totty finished his drink. He wanted to ask if Kara ever saw Oso, but he also didn’t want to kill his own buzz. He didn’t wanna think about Oso. Totty hadn’t seen him at all, and he didn’t intend to. He was giving him the cold shoulder. So instead, Totty added, “He finally got that cat game, he’s nuts over it. Loves it. It’s all he’s been doing. Well, that and smoking weed. But what else is new.”

“A life of luxury,” Kara kissed his fingers. “Brother. That is the dream.”

“True.” Totty hesitated, then pulled out his wallet and counted out a few bills, not realizing until then how clumsy his hands felt, fumbling with the money. “Well. This was fun. I’m suff…” he paused to focus on counting, “…iciently sweaty and drunk. So… I’m going to go home… and hopefully… fall asleep wearing all of my clothes.” He handed the money to Chibita. “Here. Keep the change.”

Chibita glanced over the money and looked annoyed. “This is the exact price, there is no change, idiot.”

Totty just made a raspberry noise with his mouth and waved his hand around, laughed a drunk little tittery laugh. “Bye, guys.” It wasn’t until he stood up that he realized how drunk he really was, the concrete felt unstable under his feet, like the moving sidewalk at the aquarium. Warm and loose with drink, he walked around the cart and threw his arms around Kara’s shoulders, squishing his cheek against Kara’s hair, stiff and heavily perfumed with product. Kara jumped and looked up at him, craning his neck. “It was so great to see you,” Totty said, squeezing his arms so tightly around Kara’s shoulders that Kara squirmed and laughed.

“Ouch, Totty, ouch!” 

“Karamatsu, the hero! What an honor it is to be in your illustrious company, even if only for a fleeting drink!” Totty waxed poetic, doing his best Kara voice, and that made Kara laugh so hard Totty could feel his laugh vibrating in his back. Totty gave him one last squeeze and slicked back his hair for him, then kissed the top of his head and added, “Seriously, it was good to see you, big guy.”

“It was great to see you too,” Kara said, and he had no cool guy voice at all. If Totty wasn’t so drunk he would wonder if it wasn’t a sign of personal growth.

Totty waved to Chibita, who waved back, his mouth in a sour little scrunch. 

“Bye-bye, Orangematsu,” Totty said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Totty headed down the road. It was raining hard now, but between his physical exhaustion and mental blur from the alcohol he hardly noticed. He felt like the air was all water, like he was walking through a swimming pool. He looked at himself in a store window and had that strange feeling people only get when they’re drunk and looking at their reflection. He was so tired and at the same time so loose and warm that he stepped directly in puddles and didn’t care when his socks got wet. He rounded the corner and waited at the bus stop, pulling out his phone about six times and checking it, only to remember that it was dead. As he looked down the street, waiting for the bus, he watched the rain hit the puddles on the concrete, lit up with yellow streetlamp light, and he suddenly and intensely had a recollection of splashing through these same puddles with his brothers, wearing identical yellow raincoats. He could smell the rain, feel and the cold water flecking against his bare knees. Oso and Choro were whooping and yelling and Jyushi was laughing and Ichi was kicking the puddles up so that they made huge, cascading splashes and Kara was holding Totty’s hand and giggling. He could remember their mother scolding them for getting each other all wet, the pleading sound in her voice, he could remember his father grumbling about them all catching a cold. He could remember coming home and curling up on the couch in dry pajamas and falling asleep with his head against Ichi’s shoulder blade while they watched cartoons.

Totty became so lost in the memory of the smell of rain and the feeling of his brothers’ bodies warm around him on the couch that he didn’t have time to react when the bus stopped, sending a massive splash of water all over his bottom half, soaking his jeans in dirty water from the street. He gasped and stepped back, staring down at his jeans and his shoes, drunkly confused and disoriented. 

The speaker on the bus said its number and he jumped and, dripping, climbed on board, struggling to pull his wallet out of his wet pocket so he could pay his fare. When he finally got it swiped, he walked to the back of the bus, trying to ignore the way the other passengers were staring at him dripping his way through the aisle, stumbling because the bus had started moving and also because of his inebriated state. His face was flushed from alcohol and humiliation as he stood in the back of the bus, pretending to be on his phone. His feet ached but he couldn’t sit down. He didn’t want to leave a wet spot on the seat. 

The alcohol that had even five minutes ago made him feel so warm and loosened up was now turning his stomach sour. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes for what must have been the third time that day but he begged himself not to cry just like he had every other time. This time, though, maybe it was the embarrassment or the beer or just plain exhaustion— regardless of the central cause, it didn’t work, and tears rolled down his face, completely unbidden. He took a deep breath to force himself not to sob audibly, choking down any noise. He didn’t want anyone to notice him, he begged the other passengers to look anywhere but at him. After a few minutes he was able to reign it back in, though, and the tears stopped. He swallowed the lump in his throat over and over and stared at the empty screen on his cellphone.

The bus went through one stop and another, and another and another, and Totty stood frozen, hand clinging to the handle hanging from the ceiling, legs shivering in his now cold jeans. He watched the stop name change on the bus screen and thought about going back to his small apartment and his hard futon and the screaming silence that he knew would keep him awake all night. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t fucking do it. Not now, with his head dizzy with alcohol and his body shivering and his feet aching. He couldn’t do that after he had gone all over town to find nothing, seen fresh cuts on Ichimatsu’s wrist, looked into that empty closet in their bedroom and realized how alone Ichi and Oso really were in the house. He couldn’t fucking do another sleepless night. He still didn’t have any dress shoes, and he couldn’t do another sleepless night.

The stop name changed, and Totty knew what he was going to do. The bus stopped and he forced himself to move, to climb down. He walked down the street, every raindrop feeling like a punch, and stopped in front of a tall, elegant-looking building.

Atsushi’s apartment building.

He had been there a few times before, to meet Atsushi before they went out drinking or headed to a mixer. He had never gone in. But he knew Atsushi was in apartment 1210. He walked up to the intercom box and found the button, 1210, labeled HONDA in Atsushi’s neat handwriting. He pressed it and pressed it again. No answer. He pressed it two more times, more urgently this time. The rain was coming down in torrents now, he was soaked from head to toe. He pressed the button again, and there was a crackle from the speaker above the rows of buttons.

“Hello? This is Atsushi Honda, who—“ Atsushi began, but Totty interrupted him.

“What size shoes do you wear,” he said, practically having to shout over the rain.

“—Todomatsu? Are you drunk?”

“What size shoes do you wear, Atsushi,” Totty repeated.

“I, uh—“ Totty could hear him pause, laugh. “Are you coming onto me?” he asked in a quiet, awkward voice.

Totty started talking before Atsushi finished his question, words spilling out of him, his voice strange in his own ears, shaking and hiccuping— was he crying?— regardless, the words just came and came and didn’t stop. “I’m asking because I don’t have any dress shoes for tomorrow, and I’m drunk and I’m going to be hungover and my brother is self-harming and it’s fucking raining and my fucking jeans are soaked because of the fucking bus and my fucking phone is dead, Atsushi, and I’m so fucking tired and I just fucking, I can’t go back to my fucking apartment and it’s so fucking rainy and I’m so fucking, god, everything is fucked, everything is so fucked—“

“Todomatsu! Todomatsu, stop. I’m buzzing you in. I’ll meet you inside.”

There was a buzz and a click as the door unlocked. Totty breathed a thank you into the intercom but Atsushi wasn't there anymore. 

When he walked inside, he looked around the fancy chrome and glass hall and wiped his shoes on the welcome mat even though he knew he was going to drip everywhere anyway. Once inside, alone in the glass and marble and chrome, he realized he was definitely crying— not hard, just quiet little hiccuping sobs, like a pitiful little baby. The sobs echoed back at him like the room was mocking him. 

Oh, please, don’t cry, you’re so manipulative.

He choked down the tears and forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths and wiping at his face.

There was a ding and the elevator on the right opened. Atsushi practically skidded out of the elevator, but stopped short when he saw Totty. Totty could see Atsushi look him up and down in horror for a moment before starting toward him.

“Oh, no, Todomatsu,” he said, crossing the room, arms open, “Are you okay?”

There was something about Atsushi in a big cable-knit sweater and a pair of pajama pants, glasses perched on top of his head, something about Atsushi crossing the marble floor in his sock feet with his arms open wide asking if Totty was okay that just… ruined Totty. He opened his mouth to say he was okay but instead all that came out was a whimper. He covered his mouth but it was too late. He started to cry, and not small, delicate sobs like before, but hard, lung-wracking ones. Atsushi met him and immediately pulled him into a hug without any hesitation, even though Totty was sopping wet and they had never hugged before. Totty was too upset to overthink it, burying his face in Atsushi’s shoulder.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Atsushi murmured, slicking down the hair on the back of Totty’s head. Totty only cried harder, wrapping his arms around Atsushi’s middle. “Okay, hey, it’s okay. Come on. Hey. Let’s get you upstairs, okay?” Totty nodded tearfully. 

Atsushi led him to the elevator, his hand in the small of his back, just like it had been the day Totty realized he liked him. Once they were inside and Atsushi pressed the button, he put one arm around Totty’s shoulders, squeezing his arm. Totty’s sobs were gentler, slowing now.

Finally able to speak, even though his voice was shaky and his chest kept hiccuping, Totty said, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Atsushi’s voice was always low and rumbly, but now it was even softer, gentle and so, so sweet.

“I dunno.” Totty wiped his face. “I’m really, I’m really gross right now.”

“You are not gross,” Atsushi said with a chuckle. When Totty just grumbled and whined and wiped at his eyes, Atsushi added, “Remember that one time we went to that bar and they had those crazy watermelon drinks and I had like, eight and I threw up pink stuff all over the sidewalk and you held my tie out of the way? That was gross.”

Totty gave a watery chuckle. He shook his head, sniffled, and then nodded. “That was really gross, actually. That was… fucking disgusting.”

“See? This is not gross. This is fine.” Atsushi was quiet for a moment, then added, “You must be really upset. You’re not telling me that you told me so about those watermelon drinks.”

Totty just shook his head and put his face in his hands.

The elevator dinged, and Atsushi led the way to his apartment. The halls were brightly lit and quiet, nothing like the halls in Totty’s apartment complex. By the time they reached his door Totty’s sobs had trickled down to sniffles. He opened the door without having to unlock it— he must have left without locking the door— and ushered Totty inside. 

It was exactly how Totty had pictured it, all chrome and modern furniture, cool grays and pale blues and lots of black and white, spotless clean. Totty couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Atsushi was naturally neat or because he had a killer cleaning staff. He thought it was probably the latter.

“Wow, oh my god,” Totty breathed, lingering in the living room even though Atsushi was leading him to the right, and Atsushi made an embarrassed sort of grumble in his chest. “Why have I ever bought you a fucking drink.”

Atsushi laughed. “You haven’t,” he said over his shoulder. Totty followed him through the apartment. When he realized Atsushi had led him into his bedroom, he blushed, glancing at the massive bed, comforter flung off like Atsushi had gotten up in a hurry, legal pads and pens littering the mattress. “How about this, you hop in the shower, warm up, and I’ll find some clothes for you and some water and we’ll talk about what’s bothering you and then you’ll go to sleep.”

“Here?” Totty asked.

Atsushi’s face colored under his tan. “Um. I don’t want you to have to go home. No pressure. I’ll sleep on the couch. No pressure, nothing, uh—“ he motioned between them. “No pressure,” he said again.

Totty nodded. He felt like crying again he was so happy. 

Atsushi motioned to the door to his right. “The bathroom’s here. Take your time. There are towels and… uh. You can just use my shampoo, or whatever. Just.” He motioned to the door. “Please get out of those clothes. I’m gonna put on some tea, excuse me.” He brushed past Totty and headed back into the main room of the apartment. Totty watched him go for a moment, admiring the shape of his shoulders in his sweater, but then remembered that he was dripping on the nice white carpet and quickly went into the bathroom. 

He shut the door behind him and looked around as he peeled off his wet clothes like old skin. The bathroom was beautiful, the shower absolutely massive, with what looked like five different shower heads. Next to the toilet was a stack of magazines— boring shit mostly, but Totty noticed a slim, recognizable magazine toward the bottom— definitely gay porn.

Totty stood in the shower for so long he forgot where he was, the water turned up scorching hot. He stood with his eyes closed and thought about absolutely nothing. He opened Atsushi’s shampoo and smelled it before he used it. The shower smelled like Atsushi after he lathered up his hair.

When he got out, he felt brand new, warm and fresh and still sleepy, definitely still a little tipsy— but he didn’t feel like crying so much anymore. Atsushi’s towels were fluffy and plush and had his name embroidered on them. Totty dried off and wrapped the towel around himself, stepping nervously out into the bedroom, modestly holding the corners of the towel together at the bottom. The bedroom door was closed and Atsushi was not there, and Totty let out a sigh of relief. He had made the bed, though, and stacked up his notebooks on the bedside table. On the bed was a pair of striped pajama pants and a grey t-shirt for what Totty knew to be Atsushi’s alma mater.

Totty dressed, hesitated, and then opened the bedroom door, padding into the main room. Atsushi was sitting on the couch with a book open in his lap and his glasses sliding down his nose, a blanket and pillow sitting on the ottoman. He had changed into a different sweater and pajama pants, Totty noted. The others must have gotten wet.

“Hey,” Totty said softly, and Atsushi looked up from his book.

Atsushi closed his book and moved his glasses on top of his head. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Hey. Feel better?”

“So much,” Totty answered, sitting down beside him on the couch, pulling one knee up against his chest. “That shower is fucking amazing.”

“It is,” Atsushi agreed with a chuckle. He set the book on the ottoman and motioned to a glass of water. “That’s for you. There’s tea, too, but you should probably drink some water.”

“Thank you,” Totty muttered. He took a drink and watched Atsushi take a sip of his tea.

Atsushi set down his mug and shifted to face Totty, putting one elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand. “So, what’s going on?” Totty hesitated, looking down at the glass of water in his hands. He opened his mouth and closed it, bit his lip. Atsushi leaned forward, shyly and hesitantly touched Totty’s knee, which was enough to send a thrilled little jolt through Totty’s body. “Hey. You don’t have to tell me everything. But, but you don’t have to pretend to be cool either. You don’t have to pretend to have it together.”

The alcohol’s opening-up effect on Totty was wearing off, but there was something about Atsushi’s sleepy, kind eyes and his large, warm hand on his knee that made Totty take a deep breath and start from the beginning. He walked Atsushi through all the shit with his brothers, the day Choro moved out, the days following that, everything leading up to his own exodus from his parents’ house, everything he had seen at home that day, how he ached for home even though he didn’t want to. Traffic buzzed outside and the clock ticked. He talked and talked and Atsushi just nodded and occasionally put in a comment or asked a question, but was otherwise totally quiet, holding his mug in his hands and drinking his tea.

“And then there’s the interview,” Totty said, sighing and running his hand down his face. “You’re so kind to set this thing up for me, but I don’t know if I’m qualified, okay, and I’m so high femme and all I know how to do is make coffee and look cute, and, and I don’t have any dress shoes. I have gone all over this city tonight trying to find my dress shoes. I have no idea where they are. But I don’t have any shoes to wear tomorrow.”

“What size shoes do you wear?” Atsushi asked over his coffee.

“Ten and a half,” Totty answered. 

“What are you planning on wearing?”

“Um, khakis and a white shirt with little pink, um, dots and a pink tie and a navy blazer.”

“Okay,” Atsushi said. He set down his tea and unfolded his long legs. “One moment.” He walked back to the bedroom. After a minute or so, he came back out with a pair of shoes in his hand. He set them down in Totty’s lap. “Here you go.” He sat back down on the couch. “They’re yours now.”

Totty looked down at the shoes, eyes wide— he recognized the brand, these were nice shoes! “Atsushi, holy shit, I can’t—“

“It’s no big deal, I have other dress shoes,” he said, shaking his head. Totty started to protest again, but Atsushi insisted, “Please take them, you’re going to need them when you ace this interview and get the job. You’ll need shoes to wear to the office.”

Totty groaned. “Atsushi.”

“No, I mean it! I didn’t just get you this interview because I like you and I think you would look cute answering phones across from my desk— which, don’t get me wrong, I do— I got you this interview because I think you’re fucking awesome, Todomatsu! You are so personable and warm but so professional, you can tell people no, you’re persuasive, you’re charismatic. I think you are fucking awesome!” He held up his hands. “And that’s just the truth. I don’t bullshit. Which you know.” 

Totty’s face was warm from the steady stream of compliments, but he put his forehead in his hand and sighed. “But what if your boss doesn’t think I’m fucking awesome. What if he thinks I’m weird and standoffish and queer, which are all things that are also true about me and are not fucking awesome.”

“First of all, I strongly disagree with you that being queer is not a fucking awesome thing,” Atsushi responded, grinning slightly. “You aren’t standoffish, though I do grant that you can seem cold, but you will come across as professional, trust me. And you aren’t weird, so. But as for the queer thing…” He put his hands on his chest. “You seem to forget that I also work in this office, Todomatsu. I am not deeply closeted. And I hate to tell you, but your gaydar isn’t that strong. I am very obviously gay to other people.”

“No you’re not,” Totty snorted.

“Yes! I am!” Atsushi insisted. “You’re just not very observant.” Totty paused. He had him there. “There are other queer people in the office, I promise. This was all in the folder. The entire marketing staff is queer, I would know, I’ve slept with half of them.”

Totty felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, maybe more like a sneer. “You’ve slept with half of the marketing staff?”

Atsushi opened his mouth and closed it, his face and ears going red. “Shit. Fuck. Sorry. That was kind of a joke,” he stammered, and Totty grinned. He was so cute when he was flustered. 

“Kind of,” Totty snickered, and Atsushi blushed hard.

“Th-that, that’s beside the point,” Atsushi said, waving his hand. “My point is, I wouldn’t set you up to fail, Todomatsu, or put you in a situation where you wouldn’t be safe.” Atsushi leaned forward, putting his hands on Totty’s knees. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

Totty paused, stunned by the warmth of his hands and the intensity in his kind eyes. Totty licked his lips, hesitated, and then murmured, “Okay. I trust you.”

They sat up and talked a little longer, about the interview and all the gays in the office, and then Totty’s childhood and his brothers, relaxing into the couch, Atsushi stretching out his long legs across Totty’s lap while they talked. Totty found himself unloading about Ichi, which made Atsushi’s eyes go very soft and sad, and then about Oso and the way he had told Totty not to cry and called him manipulative. 

“You’re not manipulative,” Atsushi said over his tea. “You do know that, right?”

Totty screwed up his mouth and shrugged, rubbing his thumb along the lip of his mug. 

“That was a really unfair thing for him to say,” Atsushi added. “Like… really unfair. Wrong. You shouldn’t feel bad for crying. That’s not something anyone should feel like they can… take away from people.” He set down his tea and went on, jabbing one of his fingers in his other palm as he spoke, “If anyone’s manipulative, I mean, it’s obviously him, right? And it’s-“

“Atsushi, Atsushi,” Totty interrupted, waving him off and laughing. “It’s fine, it’s fine. You don’t have to talk shit about him, really—”

“I’m not talking shit, I’m just, this is the truth, you know! How awful is it to make someone else feel guilty for crying? When I meet your brothers, I swear…” He trailed off and groaned loudly, then sat back against the arm of the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb.

“When you meet my brothers?” Totty repeated with a slight smile. “Oh, so you’re ready to meet the family.”

“Oh,” Atsushi blinked and blushed. “I just meant…”

“No, no,” Totty interrupted. “It’s fine, I’m just razzing you.” He patted Atsushi’s calf. “But really, I don’t wanna talk about Oso anymore.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine,” Atsushi said, nodding.

They talked a little longer, at least until Totty’s yawns became so frequent that Atsushi insisted that they go to bed. Totty didn’t want to, but Atsushi patted his knee and told him that they could talk more during breakfast, and that was the best thing Totty had heard all day. They said their goodnights and Atsushi took the couch while Totty moved to the bedroom, setting Atsushi’s— now Totty’s— dress shoes by the closet door and placing Ichi’s lucky socks on top of them, ready for tomorrow. 

He climbed into bed and curled up in the fancy sheets. The bed conformed to the shape of his body and he sighed aloud. He had never been so comfortable, with Atsushi’s giant fluffy pillows under his head and Atsushi’s scent lingering in the sheets. He closed his eyes and felt his breathing even out, listening to the sound of the traffic outside, and willed himself to sleep.

But sleep didn’t come. After a while Totty turned over and tried to sleep on his stomach, and still he couldn’t quite doze off. He tossed and turned, he kicked off the covers and pulled them back up again. He watched the minutes tick by on the digital clock by Atsushi’s bed. Tick tick tick. 

About an hour passed and Totty still wasn’t asleep, even though his back and feet ached and his eyelids drooped, he still didn’t sleep. He watched the number on the clock change. He waited five more minutes, and when no sleep came, he gave up.

Totty sat up in bed and hesitated. Atsushi was going to think he was being a baby. Worse, Atsushi was going to think he was asking for sex. Totty wasn’t either of those things, and he didn’t want Atsushi to think— but he was so tired, he was so tired. He summoned all the courage he had and then climbed out of bed, shuffling to the door. He walked into the living room and found Atsushi asleep on the couch, snoring softly, one leg flung over the back of the couch and one arm draped over his face. Totty almost didn’t want to wake him, he looked so gentle and peaceful, moonlight purple on his skin, a narrow line of flesh visible between the bottom of his t-shirt and the waistband of his pajama pants. He couldn’t wake him up, he couldn’t— but then his feet throbbed and his head got dizzy again and he had to, he had to.

“Atsushi,” he whispered, kneeling by the couch and gently shaking him. “Atsushi. Hey.”

Atsushi grumbled in his sleep, but after a moment blinked awake, squinting at Totty in the dark. “Hey, hey,” he said, wiping at his mouth and scrambling to sit up. “Hey, Todomatsu, is something wrong?”

“Um, yes,” Totty mumbled. He paused, took a deep breath, and then whispered, “Uh, listen. Please don’t think I’m being forward, because I’m not. I…” he hesitated. “I… can’t… sleep alone. At home we all slept together, we always have, and I haven’t slept a full night since I moved out, I dunno what’s wrong with me, but I can’t and—“ he ran a hand down his face and stared down at the carpet, embarrassed, face flushing furiously. “Um. Atsushi, will you sleep in the bed with me, please? Nothing, um. No pressure. Just. Sleep next to me?”

Atsushi took a breath, hesitated, and then whispered back, “Yeah. Yes. Absolutely.” Totty let out a sigh.

“Sorry, you know I don’t mean—“

“I know. Don’t apologize.” He got up from the couch and extended a hand to Totty. “C’mon.”

Looking up at Atsushi in his pajamas, hair mussed and eyes tired, periwinkle in the moonlight, Totty had never liked him so much.

Totty took his hand and Atsushi helped him to his feet. They walked to the bedroom hand in hand. For a little while Totty still couldn’t sleep, hyper-aware of all the places where their bodies touched even though they were lying with their backs to each other. However, once Atsushi drifted off, Totty felt himself growing sleepy, too.

Atsushi sleeping peacefully behind him, his body warm in the sheets they shared, his breathing rhythmic and soothing in the quiet dark of the bedroom, Totty slowly slipped into sleep, and for the first time in while, he slept the whole night through.