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"Cute," Watarai said softly.
Asahi blinked a few times, eyes darting around to check whether someone had also heard. They were both standing on the edge of the training field behind the school. It just so happened that both their classes had P.E. during this period, and they managed to slink away to the side during some downtime. Asahi was getting used to Watarai calling him different versions of the word adorable out of the blue but he wasn't used to it enough not to be affected.
"Wha—?" he began, looking up at him to try and figure out what had prompted Watarai to speak. A weird feeling traveled down his neck and tickled down his arms to the tips of his fingers.
"Let me," Watarai said, cutting through his confused noises. He lifted his hand to rearrange Asahi's hair into place.
Asahi couldn't help but flinch at the sudden touch, but he made no move to stop him or back away. Watarai's blunt nails gently combed the side of his hair, and he felt his neck grow a little warm. "Oh, uh…" he mumbled, unable to coherently react.
Watarai didn't seem to mind; his smile didn't waver, and he continued to smooth down his hair until he looked satisfied. "The wind," he said simply, when he noticed Asahi was staring at him. "It was a little messy, but it's fine now."
"Thanks," Asahi said, a little embarrassed. When Watarai did stuff like this, and it was just the two of them, he was barely able to let himself fully enjoy it, but when they were in public, and at school especially, he still felt overwhelmingly shy. He was worried about what people might think.
Watarai's gentle smile grew larger, cheekier, and a small laugh bubbled out of his mouth. "Ah, Hioki, am I making you blush again? Should I do it more?"
He extended his hand towards his head again, but Asahi straightened up as a response, unconsciously trying to make himself look taller. He shook his head quickly, both as a denial and as a way to hopefully erase any trace of redness off his face. Watarai pressed his lips together to avoid laughing again and relented, ostensibly putting his hands in his pockets.
Asahi looked away, nervously squeezing his fingers into a fist to dispel the tickly sensation.
How the hell was it so easy for Watarai to act like that? How on earth did he manage to push through the embarrassment and say stuff like this? How did he make himself look so cool, all long limbs and shiny hair in the sunlight? Why did he always catch Asahi off-guard? How? Why?
The worst part, the most excruciating thing—was that Asahi didn't actually find it cringy. He should. But—he cleared his throat and pretended to squint at the sky to hide his expression—he kind of liked it. How weird. How stupid.
He chanced another look at Watarai, who was also pretending to look away. He was smiling peacefully once again, eyes soft and full of affection. He looked like a computer generated character; the way he was leaning back on his heels just slightly, hands nonchalantly resting in his jogging pants' pockets, hip cocked just so, making his oversized t-shirt drape in a cool way around his waist. His frame detached itself like a drawing against the boring backdrop of the school track and field area. He turned his face back to him after a few seconds of silence, feeling observed, and his smile gradually disappeared. His eyes grew more intense, and Asahi held his gaze, captivated.
"You look so…" Asahi said, entranced, trailing off to search for the right word. Watarai's laser focus pinned him in place, and he felt compelled to finish his thought. "…handsome."
Watarai's jaw went slack, and his lips parted just a little in surprise. His eyes went wide and round, like a child. He drew his hands out his pockets and kind of hovered them around his body awkwardly, as if he wasn't too sure what to do with them. The overall effect sort of ruined his cool vibe, but Asahi felt a rush of dopamine.
It wasn't the first time Watarai looked a little off-kilter, but Asahi hadn't quite realized how good it also felt to be the one doing that. He was usually on the receiving end of compliments, and it felt so nice he didn't really entertain the idea of changing things up.
He cracked a smile, amused by Watarai's reaction. "Sorry, I know you don't like it when people comment on your appearance," he apologized, grinning.
Watarai remained very serious. "No, if it's Hioki, I love it."
Asahi lost the upper-hand as soon as he had it. He was saved from trying to form a reply, dangerously close to being flustered again, by a football being kicked their way. He deftly stopped the ball from rolling past them with his heel.
"Hioki! Over here!" A classmate gestured at him to kick the ball back towards the field, where a few of them were playing a game.
"We should probably get back to it," Asahi said, smoothly kicking the ball towards the small group. "The teacher is gonna notice we're slacking off."
Watarai nodded with a low hum. He slid his hands in his pockets once again, back to his regular self. "See you after class," he said.
Asahi nodded back, dropping his chin towards his chest so he could hide his dorky smile. He slowly made his way back to his own class, looking over his shoulder one last time to see if Watarai was still looking.
He was.
—
Asahi took a bite of the food from his lunch box and leaned towards Hotta, who was already busy eating. "Watarai's not coming?"
Across from him, Nakasato replied instead. "Don't worry. He volunteered to help the teacher carry some stuff back to the teacher's lounge."
"I'm not worried," Asahi hurried to clarify. Morisaki shared a knowing look with Nakasato, but said nothing. Hotta snorted with amusement and continued to eat. "I was just wondering, that's all."
"Right," Nakasato said. "Do you have anything planned for Friday?"
"Ah, that's right," Hotta chimed in. "I love public holidays. Should we do something?"
"Sorry," Morisaki said. "Since this year, it's on a Friday, my older brother said we needed to take advantage of the long weekend. He's taking me and my parents on a 3-day trip."
Nakasato clapped excitedly. "Wow, that sounds nice. I'm gonna go and visit my grandma outside of town. I haven't seen her in a while."
Hotta shrugged. "Alright. Since Hioki's busy too, I will have to unfortunately sleep in very late, eat, play video games, and watch TV. How tragic," he chirped, sounding delighted.
"I haven't said anything," Asahi said, confused. "I'm not busy. My parents said they're going on a trip, I'll be home alone."
Morisaki sent another, very pointed look at Nakasato, who in response, leaned an elbow on the table and propped his chin on his palm immediately after, smiling widely at Asahi. "Oh? You should invite someone over!"
Asahi stopped in his tracks, chopsticks hovering uncertainly between his face and his food, a piece of pork dangling pathetically from them. He felt a little awkward about being put on the spot like that, but come to think of it, it wouldn't be so bad to have a friend over. He looked at Hotta inquisitively, wondering if he'd be OK with spending time at his house since he wasn't leaving the city.
Hotta chewed faster, shaking his head no before Asahi could even ask. "Someone else," he said, swallowing his food and his laugh.
Asahi frowned, setting his pork back into his bento box. He supposed he could have Tsujitani over, but he didn't really feel like dealing with the noise. He looked up and saw Morisaki raise his eyebrows emphatically at him.
Oh. Ah… Right.
Asahi quickly grabbed his bottle to take a sip of water. He drank too fast and almost choked, but kept gulping the water even when there was nothing but droplets left, to cover up his embarrassment.
The memory of Watarai's weight, suddenly straddling him on his bed, and the softness of his lips, flashed back in his mind. Could he really survive an entire long week-end with him? Asahi couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but he was rather confident that the guys didn't know that side of their relationship. Watarai wasn't the type to kiss and tell. Literally.
After regaining some of his composure, he lowered the bottle and cleared his throat. "Maybe, uh—yeah… Maybe I'll ask Watarai?" He tried to keep the statement casual, flippant even, but unfortunately it came out very weakly and too much like a question.
Hotta nodded, encouraging, but did not go back to his food. Nakasato's smile split his face even more, if possible. He was still resting his chin on his hand cutely, eyes sparkling. Morisaki just stared at him, looking unbothered.
If there was one thing Asahi had learned in the past year or so: these guys loved a good, harmless piece of gossip. He really couldn't understand what was so interesting about other people's love life, but he supposed it could be kind of entertaining…?
Just then, Watarai entered the class. Asahi bit his lip, inexplicably nervous. Watarai's eyes searched for his friends and when he caught sight of Asahi, he waved brightly and happily before making his way towards them. He was stopped by a couple of students who wanted to ask him about a group assignment they had to finish up before the end of the week.
"Something on your mind? Better say it now before Watarai gets here," Nakasato sing-songed, looking more mischievous than usual.
"Not at all," Asahi said quickly. "It's just…" Morisaki looked down at his phone, tactfully pretending not to listen too intently. "It's nothing."
"He's been over at your place before, it's no big deal, right?"
Asahi hummed noncommittally, shoving a big bite of rice in his mouth to avoid answering. Hotta flew to his rescue by intervening, pointing his chopsticks at him. "He's kind of a lot, huh?"
Asahi's first instinct was to disagree. Watarai wasn't too much. But that's not what Hotta had said. Watarai was… a lot. But Asahi didn't mind that. In fact, it was one of the reasons he liked him so much. He worried about not being enough, though. As if he were a tiny cup and Watarai were the whole ocean.
The three of them leaned closer to Asahi simultaneously, which would have been hilarious at any other time. He wasn't too comfortable being the center of their attention but he needed to get them off his case before Watarai got to the table. He was too nice to interrupt the two anxious classmates who were debating on who should do which part, but he looked ready to leave the conversation at the first opening. Time was of the essence. "No, it's fine! We're cool, I'm cool. It's cool," he stammered out, speaking too fast.
"You should fight back," Hotta said suddenly, as if they were speaking of a school bully.
Asahi flinched, startled. "Huh?"
"Watarai gets flustered easily," Nakasato added, catching his attention next. "You can totally trip him up, Hioki. You do it all the time, you just don't notice. You're super easy-going, you're charming, and you're funny!"
Asahi balked, mumbling a few weak protests, but they were drowned out by Hotta, who followed immediately after Nakasato: "Everything he throws your way, just mirror it. He won't know what to do with himself."
"Guaranteed."
Asahi's head bounced between them, trying to follow the rapid fire exchange.
"And for a total K.O.—" Hotta started.
Morisaki cut in, finishing his sentence flatly: "—initiate."
"Wh—what do you mean, initia—?" Asahi started asking, but Watarai had managed to exit the group assignment ambush with grace, and was already making his way towards them, long legs carrying him within earshot in no time.
He sat next to Asahi with a sigh. "Sorry, it took me longer than I expected. What were you talking about?"
"Plans for the long week-end," Morisaki said smoothly, the perfect picture of chillness.
Asahi hoped his face didn't show how agitated he felt. The avalanche of words he'd just heard from the guys clogged his brain and he couldn't think properly. Initiate…? He shoved more food into his mouth to avoid looking guilty.
"Oh," Watarai said, turning to Asahi. "Are you going somewhere too?"
"N—no…" He shook his head, swallowing with difficulty. He sneaked a glance at Hotta, who silently mouthed initiate! while Watarai was busy staring at Asahi. "My parents will be gone until Sunday. Wanna… come over?"
Watarai froze, and stared more intently than ever. "Yes," he said, too fast. Then, he shook himself out of his surprise. "I mean, are you sure? Will your parents be OK with it?"
Asahi blinked a few times, unable to look away, but very conscious of the fact they were being watched. "It won't be a problem, my sisters won't be home either. Besides, my mom already loves you," he shrugged.
There was a pause, but Watarai did not look away for even a second. "I see," he said finally, looking very serious.
"She talks about you all the time," Asahi explained, feeling the urge to justify himself. "Ever since you stayed over, last time. You really do… make an impression on people…"
Nakasato made a happy noise, suddenly drawing attention to him, and he clapped his hands together once before holding them together in front of his face. Asahi looked back at the rest of his friends with a start, and from the corner of his eye, he felt Watarai tear his own gaze away from his face with difficulty.
"This is so exciting," Nakasato said, sounding like it was the best news he'd heard all year. "I love sleepovers. Too bad we can't all come, Hioki."
Watarai frowned, but said nothing.
"Hey, if you're not gonna drink that, can I have it?" Morisaki's flat voice cut in, preventing Asahi from having to respond. He was pointing at his little carton of milk. Asahi nodded silently, out of sorts, but Watarai obligingly picked up his own carton of milk so that Asahi didn't have to give away his, and put it in front of Morisaki. "Thanks!" he said, unbothered by the switch.
—
Asahi's dad patted his head gently as he heaved his travel bag through the door on Friday morning. "There's enough food in the fridge for you and your little friend to last you for at least a week," he said for the third time that day. "Don't eat too many snacks. Try not to order in, it's a waste of money. I already programmed the rice cooker for—"
"Yes, thanks," Asahi interrupted. He'd already heard many different versions of that same speech for a few days now. He helped him carry the heavy bag over the threshold.
"I did leave some emergency cash right there," his dad droned on, waving at a drawer.
Asahi's mom was already outside, ready to get in the car. She smiled at her husband, and pulled him towards the car. "He's not a baby anymore, he'll be fine. He'll be with his friend, it's fine. I've met him you know? He looks very responsible," she said, amused. "Have fun, son."
"Yes, but you call us if there's anything, OK? We'll be back Sunday night."
"Of course," Asahi relented, continuously nodding to appease his dad. "Thanks. You guys enjoy your time off too."
"Anything," he insisted. "Call us. I mean it."
"Yep!"
The family car sped away and Asahi stayed outside to wave them goodbye. When they turned the corner, silence descended on the street and he was alone with his thoughts. Watarai had agreed to be there in the afternoon, so Asahi returned inside to keep himself busy in the meantime. He had a bite and tidied up the place a bit but he was distracted.
He had contemplated setting up a futon next to his bed out of habit, but had suddenly stopped in his tracks. Watarai was probably going to insist on sharing Asahi's bed again, right? He was standing in the middle of his bedroom, looking at his tiny single bed, and felt his stomach swoop. Whatever. It wouldn't be the first time. He could do this.
He was sitting in front the TV, absorbing nothing of what was happening on the screen when his phone chimed with a text. Watarai was almost there. He straightened up in the couch, inexplicably jittery. Inside, his anxiety and excitement worked themselves into a tangled mess. Happiness came crashing in waves over him at the idea of spending so much time alone with his boyfriend—and in between those waves, he stressed over the thought of Watarai getting tired of him, of him getting bored. It was one thing to be seeing each other at school every day, sneaking a few kisses here and there, and it was definitely another to be spending almost three whole days together. Alone.
Although they had been dating for the better part of a year now, it almost felt like Asahi was back to square one.
He was torn out of his spiraling reverie by the gentle sound of the doorbell. He jumped to his feet before he could even get his bearings, and opened the door on Watarai waiting patiently on the doorstep.
His face lit up at the sight of Asahi, and he broke into a wide smile, eyes crinkling. "Hi," he said simply. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah, yes. Of course, come in! You know the way," Asahi said, already out of breath for no reason.
Watarai brushed past Asahi, touching him on purpose as he stepped in. "Sorry for the intrusion," he said politely. "Can I leave this in your room?"
"Yes, sure," Asahi replied, reaching automatically for his bag. Watarai's hold on the handles loosened enough for Asahi to take them from him, but he didn't extend his arm or step back. And so, as Asahi secured his grip around the bag straps, he found himself closer to Watarai than he had expected. He was forced to look up to see his face. "What?" he asked, feeling defensive over the imperious gaze Watarai was sporting.
"Nothing, you're just cute."
"You're just saying stuff," Asahi chuckled, refusing to fall for his charm right away. He turned to drop the bag in his bedroom. "Do you want something to drink? I have some juice."
Watarai followed him to the other room. "Sure."
Asahi left his bag against the wall, next to the bedside table, and nodded. "I'll get us something to munch on, too. Was the bus ride okay? It's always so full around this time of day."
"I didn't really pay attention, to be honest," Watarai replied, following him back to the kitchen like a puppy. Asahi gestured at one of the chairs and Watarai dutifully sat down. "I think it was fine. I was thinking of other things."
Asahi poured a glass of juice for him, and water for himself, before opening a cabinet in search of some snacks. "Other things? Like what?" he asked distractedly. "Ah, here they are." He pulled out some cookies from the shelf, and turned around to place them on the table.
Watarai stayed silent. Asahi took a seat across from him, and pushed a cookie towards him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Watarai deliberately reached for the cookie instead of answering. He carefully unwrapped the plastic around it and took a clean bite.
Asahi smiled ruefully. "Alright, don't tell me then." He reached for a cookie too but at the last second, his brain rerouted his hand and he plucked the half-bitten cookie out of Watarai's fingers and ate it.
Watarai's entire body, including his fingers in front of his face, remained completely still, as if somebody had pressed pause. The only thing that changed was his expression; his eyebrows floated slightly higher on his forehead, his eyes widened, going round like pearls, and his lips parted in shock.
Asahi chewed and swallowed slowly, taking the whole thing in with great interest. Maybe Nakasato was right. Maybe he needed to pay more attention to the effect he might have on Watarai sometimes. Maybe Hotta was right. Maybe he could fight back.
"Delicious," Asahi said, cocking his head to the side.
Watarai suddenly came alive, body moving like it had been jump-started by some invisible cue. Ears red, he swiped his glass and took a big swig out of it before standing up, so quickly his chair almost toppled behind him. "That won't do," he said under his breath, before he added in a very decisive tone, "Let's go for a walk."
"A walk?" Asahi balked at the idea. "No, it's too hot. I was thinking we could watch something, play some video games… We can go for a walk later when the sun's gone down a bit, if you want?"
Watarai planted a palm flat against the table and loomed over Asahi. "Sure, sounds nice. Don't ever look at me like that again, if you don't want me to act out, Hioki."
Asahi, still sat on his chair, was forced to crane his neck to look back at him. Watarai would have looked dangerous if Asahi didn't know him so well, by now.
Asahi's eyes fluttered down to his lips. He tried not to let his voice betray him, and he held his ground. "Why? You do it to me all the time." His voice didn't sound exactly as asserting as he wanted it to, but eh.
Watarai frowned and leaned down even lower. He gently placed a finger under Asahi's chin, and tilted it at a higher angle. "I like the way you look when I do," he said, very low since he was so close to his face.
Asahi had to act quickly to gain the upper-hand before he crumbled under Watarai's attention, like always. Their faces were close enough that he only had a very small distance to cover for his lips to meet Watarai's. It was too tempting and he went for it. A furtive, stolen smooch that resonated in the silence of the kitchen.
Watarai backed up very slightly, clearly caught off guard. A little smile threatened to appear on his lips. His eyes bounced all over Asahi's face, making him look agitated.
"Yeah, I like the way you look when I do that too," Asahi said, as he got up clumsily. Watarai was too stunned to react properly, so he was able to swiftly walk around him and escape to the living room.
That was the extent of what he felt capable of doing. The thrill of being the one to heavily flirt was giving him a head rush. It felt so good—he conjured up Watarai's beautiful bewildered face in his mind—but he couldn't handle much more at this point. He dropped on the couch like dead weight.
Watarai followed him in the living room after a few tense seconds. He sat next to him, but when he spoke, his voice was back to his gentle, easy self. "So, what are we watching then?"
—
Time flew faster than Asahi was expecting. It was already dinner time after what honestly felt like five whole minutes, and he was only reminded because his stomach growled loudly. Watarai shot him one of his big closed-mouth smiles, eyes crinkling, and declared that he was hungry, to save him the embarrassment.
"My dad prepared a bunch of stuff," Asahi said, scratching his head. "You can have a look and choose whatever. I'm not picky."
Watarai obediently opened the fridge door at Asahi's repeated hand gestures, and peered thoughtfully inside, while he stayed sat at the kitchen table, observing him. He was forced to bend over more than any other member of Asahi's family because he was so. Damn. Tall. He looked so serious, considering each food option with all the gravity he probably thought it deserved; his eyebrows scrunched down a bit in concentration, and his hands wrapped around the handle with long fingers, covering it almost entirely.
"Hioki?" Watarai stood back up from behind the fridge door. It sounded like it wasn't the first time he'd called his name, but Asahi was distracted. "I said, is that OK with you?" He was pointing at a few boxes he had pulled out from the fridge shelves and onto the counter.
"Yes! Looks good!"
Asahi warmed everything that needed reheating on the stove and scooped a little rice into their bowls, while Watarai brought everything else to the living room. He always ate at the kitchen table with his family, but since they weren't home, Asahi wanted to keep things casual and eat comfortably in front of the TV.
Watarai sat on the floor, back resting against the base of the couch, and Asahi on the short side of the coffee table, so he wouldn't obscure his view of the screen.
"You can sit next to me, I can make space," Watarai said, scooching over so they could both face the same way.
"No, no, that's OK. I want to be able to look at you," he replied, crossing his legs. "Thanks for the food," he added absentmindedly, bowing cursorily with joined hands, before he grabbed his chopsticks.
He was met with complete silence, which was suspicious. Asahi glanced at Watarai, who was staring at him seriously. He stared back, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
"Why?" Watarai asked.
"Now, you're just fishing for compliments," he teased. "I just like your face. Now, eat."
Watarai unexpectedly preened under the attention, and he politely, and much more sincerely, repeated the same phrase while inclining his head. "Thank you for the food."
Asahi smiled, and started digging in, prompting Watarai to do the same.
"Hioki, your father is a really good cook," Watarai said, after having made a few appreciative noises every few bites.
"Mmm, yeah? I guess he is."
"I'm serious. This is really good. And it was really nice of him to prepare so much for us."
Asahi nodded noncommittally. He was too used to his dad dotting on his family to stop and think of how it would look from the outside. "I'm glad you like it," he said. "I'll be sure to let him know."
Watarai shook his head slowly, dramatically, eyes closed and everything. He made a little tutting sound. "No need. I can tell him myself when you introduce me properly to your parents."
Asahi took a deep breath, looking away shyly. Again with this boyfriend talk; it never failed to make the blood rush to his face. He felt the corner of his mouth lift involuntarily, into the beginnings of a smile, and pressed his lips together to hide it. "Right, whatever you say…"
"Do you often have friends over?" Watarai asked, kindly changing subjects.
Asahi placed his chopsticks on the table and leaned back on his hands pensively. "It's been a while, to be very honest. That's why I'm a little rusty with my hosting skills, please forgive my humble lodgings, my good sire." He said the second half of his sentence using an overly formal tone and speech, quickly straightening his back and properly getting on his knees for the full effect. He inclined his head slightly, facing him.
Watarai burst out laughing, pushing against his shoulder softly, making his butt slide of his ankles and onto the floor, ruining his perfect posture. "Stop it," he said, still laughing heartily.
Asahi reveled in the sound and sight of Watarai enjoying his stupid joke. He couldn't help from laughing as well, feeling weirdly overjoyed and proud.
When it seemed they were pretty much done with dinner, he started clearing the bowls and plates away, and Watarai immediately got up to help. "Do you wanna go on that walk, then?" Asahi asked. "Just leave it, I'll clean up when we get back."
Watarai nodded agreeably. The weather was still warm and slightly humid, no quite chilly enough for a jacket so they both went out in short sleeves. The sun was going down and painted the whole neighborhood in a rich, golden light.
"Let's go around this way and up that hill," he suggested. "There's a nice view up there."
They walked in silence for a few minutes, at a very leisurely pace, neither of them in a hurry to get anywhere. Asahi couldn't help but hyperfocus on the way their arms kept brushing each other as they walked side by side. He could pinpoint where Watarai's skin touched him every other step. The streets were quiet and they didn't cross paths with many people.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable but weighed heavily on Asahi. Was Watarai getting bored? What were they going to do next? How was Asahi going to keep him busy for another couple of days? What if Watarai ended up changing his mind at the end of this impromptu sleepover, and never wanted to spend that much time with Asahi again?
Or spend any time with him at all? Ever? Or worse, decide to remain friends instead? Maybe Watarai was finally going to open his eyes and realize this was all a big mistake.
They were almost up the hill. Asahi nervously scratched his arm. The street was pretty steep and the steps felt never ending. He was starting to break a sweat, but Watarai followed his pace diligently, without a word of complaint. When they finally reached the place Asahi wanted to show him, the sun was almost set and the warm glow of the buildings had disappeared. Instead, they were met with purple and orange hues, announcing the darkness of the night to come.
He was out of breath after reaching the top, and walked to lean on the fence overlooking the cityscape. They had an amazing view of the whole area up there, and although it was getting dark, it was still a sight to see. Watarai stayed one step behind.
"Hioki," he called. He sounded a bit out of breath too. Asahi turned around slowly, reluctantly. Watarai looked worried. The neckline of his shirt was slightly wet with sweat. "Are you OK?"
Asahi nodded yes; an automatic response. He felt silly for even voicing his worries aloud. It sounded embarrassing enough as it was in his head. "I just wanted to show you… the view…" he said weakly, gesturing at the panorama.
"It's very nice but we didn't have to come all the way up there if I'd known you were gonna look so miserable."
"I'm not!" Asahi hurried to clarify, pulling away from the fence and closer to Watarai. "I was just thinking that's all."
"About what?"
"Just trying to figure out what we were gonna do next. Tomorrow. Where we could go, what we could—"
"Hioki," Watarai cut him off abruptly, grabbing his wrist. "I really don't care."
"Eh?"
"As long as we're spending time together, I'm happy," he said, sounding very grave. "We could be at your house, staring at the wall sitting side by side, and I'd be cool with it." Asahi blinked stupidly, too much and too quickly. Watarai pulled on his arm gently, making him stumble closer to him. "I don't think you realize how much I just enjoy just being with you. I'm sorry," he added, bending over just slightly to force Asahi to look into his eyes. "I made you feel like—"
"N-no," he stuttered, overwhelmed. "I'm the one who's sorry. I was just worrying all by myself."
Watarai was still holding onto his wrist. The tips of Asahi's sneakers were touching Watarai's.
"Do you believe me?" he asked.
Asahi stared back at Watarai, and was met with such an intense gaze it was absolutely impossible for him to say no. The breeze picked up slightly and ruffled Watarai's hair, revealing two very serious and concerned eyebrows. Asahi shivered, and his grip on his wrist tightened.
Asahi felt the irresistible urge to kiss him, but instead he nodded slowly, as if hypnotized. "I believe you," he said in a breath. He would really like to kiss him, though.
Watarai continued to stare directly into his soul, and didn't release his hold around his wrist, so Asahi decided to reach for Watarai with his other hand instead; he flattened his palm against the side of his neck, and softly guided him down towards his face.
Watarai went willingly, tilting his head to the side to welcome Asahi's lips on his. He curled his fingers around his nape, and gently pressed his mouth against Watarai's. He had intended for the smooch to be simple and gentle, but as soon as he felt him on his lips, he was left wanting more. Watarai's grip loosened around his wrist, and he snaked his arm around his waist instead, pushing him closer to him.
Surprised by the sudden contact, Asahi inhaled sharply, lips falling open. Watarai deepened the kiss immediately, slotting their lips between each other's, and pushing even closer. Asahi brought his other hand, now free, to join its counterpart around the other side of Watarai's neck. Holding him so close, like this, he could feel Watarai's pulse beating wildly against his palms.
Asahi pressed his lower body against Watarai, feeling the delicious weight of his hand at the base of his spine. Delirious, he opened his mouth just a bit more, wanting more of him in every way. He lightly swiped his tongue against the swell of Watarai's bottom lip, and felt his belly turn over on itself when Watarai opened his mouth more in response. He returned the kiss unhurriedly, making Asahi feel like his nerves were catching fire one by one.
They separated slowly, steadily, as if they were both slowly swimming back to the surface after a deep sea dive.
"You didn't ask," Watarai whispered, dragging his hands from the hollow of his back to his sides, holding him steady.
"Huh?" Asahi was genuinely confused and too dizzy from the velvety kiss still to understand.
"Before, you always asked if you could kiss me," Watarai said patiently. "The very few times you ever initiated one, I mean."
Asahi's brain came back online at the word 'initiate', memory pinging like a old computer. It was the term Hotta had used. "Eh? Uh, should I have…?" he asked, bewildered. He relaxed his hold around Watarai's neck and let his hands slide down to his collarbones.
Watarai giggled. "As if I'd ever say no. You don't have to ever ask. I liked it. I love it."
Asahi stared, a little dumbfounded. He wasn't sure how to respond, so he nodded a little stiffly. Maybe the guys weren't just teasing him, maybe Nakasato, Morisaki, and Hotta were actually full of good advice.
Watarai tightened his grip around his middle again, this time into a full body hug. Asahi wrapped his arms against his back, returning the embrace.
"Let's head back?"
Asahi buried his face into his boyfriend's neck. He smelled so good. "Mm," he agreed, giving him one last squeeze.
—
They ended up taking enough detours, and at such a slow pace, it was pretty late before they got back.
"You can wash up first," Asahi said, toeing his shoes off at the entrance.
"OK, I'll be quick."
Asahi nodded with a smile and waited for him to get his things and go into the bathroom before he turned back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Asahi started scrubbing the dishes that he had soaked after dinner, getting further lost in thought as he went.
He was almost done when Watarai snuck up behind him silently, wrapping his arms around his middle, and snuggling against the crook of his neck. He smelled like shampoo, and his slightly wet hair sent a slight, refreshing chill through Asahi.
"I said I was gonna help…"
"It's almost done," Asahi said. "Here, you can dry the bowls."
Watarai dragged himself away from Asahi's body, and grabbed the towel he was handed. He casually leaned his lower back against he counter to dry what Asahi was handing to him while still looking at him.
"Alright, my turn then. I'll take a quick shower," Asahi announced just as he finished rinsing the last of the dishes. He looked up to Watarai, still watching him next to the sink.
Nakasato's airy voice telling him he was 'charming' echoed in his empty head, and bounced against Watarai's words from earlier, about not asking for permission. In a split second decision, he went up on the tip of his toes, pushing on the side of the sink for balance and dropped a kiss on Watarai's cheek.
He turned around to go wash up, faking nonchalance. He deliberately didn't look at Watarai as he left the room.
He spent most of his shower replaying fragments of memories where he'd accidentally flustered Watarai, and staring blankly at the wall.
When he got out, Watarai was already in his bedroom. He welcomed him in with the hairdryer in one hand and the other around the backrest of Asahi's desk chair. He tapped the chair with an air of routine, inviting him to sit. It made Asahi smile and he obliged without protesting. Watarai was very gentle, and having him run his fingers against his head felt too good to refuse.
Watarai set the heat lower than Asahi would usually. It felt nice not to have the air burn his scalp. After a few minutes, he felt his eyelids droop. He wanted to keep looking at Watarai in the mirror, but the gentle hum of the hairdryer and Watarai's deft fingers combing the strands in place soothed and lulled him into a slight doze.
The sound of the hairdryer being clicked off tore him out of his relaxation. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and met Watarai's gaze in the mirror. He smiled dopily. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Watarai smiled back, looking just as relaxed. He gave him one last, affectionate caress, and set the dryer down. He backed up the small space between the desk and the bed to let himself drop on the mattress. "I'll let you turn off the lights," he said, yawning.
Asahi swiveled around in the chair as Watarai got settled, taking the same spot as last time they shared his bed, closest to the window. He got up and turned off the light, before walking back to his bed. He climbed in with zero hesitation, distantly remembering he had, earlier in the day, entertained the idea of maybe setting up a futon on the floor. What a joke.
He greedily occupied all the space Watarai had left him, curling in into the warmth of his body, settling his head against his shoulder. Something about the scent of him was incredibly comforting. Watarai let him snuggle close, equally as sleepy, and naturally let his other arm rest around him, so they faced each other.
They fell asleep without a word, and without any of the awkwardness Asahi had been so worried about.
—
Asahi trudged out of his room, still heavy with sleep, and found Watarai puttering about in the kitchen. The table was already set, and when he noticed Asahi was awake, he smiled sweetly.
"Come and eat breakfast," he said.
Asahi scratched his head and obeyed, pulling a chair. "How long have you been awake?" he asked haltingly, trying to swallow a yawn.
"A little while."
"Sorry, you should have woken me up."
"No way, you looked so peaceful," Watarai protested, setting some broth in front of him. "I'm not used to sleeping in, anyway. My little brother is always up and about super early."
Asahi stared pensively at his bowl, then up again at Watarai. Did his baby brother look anything like him? Asahi recalled the way Watarai had acted all sweet with the lost little boy at the amusement park.
"I'd like to meet him, one day."
Watarai was about to sit down across from him but he paused for half a second before he slowly slid into the chair. "My brother?"
"Yeah. I bet you dot on him like crazy."
Watarai lowered his head shyly, hiding his smile. "You can come over to my house for a change," he said, but Asahi heard the fake casualness in his voice. "You can see him then."
Asahi nodded slowly. That was fair. It sounded kind of appealing, actually. To see Watarai in his every day environment. It would be like unlocking and collecting a new side of him, and Asahi was greedy with the idea.
Watarai beamed at his easy agreement.
—
After dinner, that same day, they were getting ready to finish the evening with a movie when Asahi's phone chimed. Asahi went to the table where he had left it, before he walked back into the living room to where Watarai was sitting comfortably on the floor with his back to the couch.
"Oh, it's Anna," Asahi exclaimed, checking his notifications. He was surprised; they rarely texted.
Watarai went very still. Asahi climbed on the couch, positioning himself right behind Watarai, legs crossed. He couldn't see his face anymore, but he could tell by the tense line of his shoulders that Watarai was trying very hard not to ask any questions.
"Just a picture. She went out of town, too. Look." Asahi leaned down slightly, extending his arm in front of Watarai so he could see the screen. Watarai relaxed minutely, checking the picture. Asahi smiled to himself, secretly giddy over the subdued jealous reaction.
Another text came in after the picture: ANNA - any plans for the long weekend?
Asahi leaned back, retracting his arm. "Hey, turn around for a sec," he said.
Watarai twisted his neck around, and Asahi lifted his arm high enough that he could take a selfie of both of them. He didn't do a countdown, so when the tell-tale sound of the shutter rang, Watarai looked cutely confused.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Texting her back." He quickly sent the picture in reply to her message, and typed: About to watch a movie with Watarai. As soon as he was done, he placed his phone face down on the couch next to him and searched for the remote.
"Did you tell her?" Watarai asked, still halfway turned and looking up towards him.
"That you're at my house?" he asked distractedly, looking around him. Was he sitting on the remote by mistake? "I just said as much, so I guess she knows you're here."
"No, that you're my boyfriend."
Asahi froze, one hand stuck under his butt, still looking for the damn thing. "Oh. Uh. No. She probably kinda already knows? I'm not entirely sure." He paused. "I could…tell her, though. Do you want me to?"
Watarai turned to face forward again. "Maybe," he said seriously. "I have the remote," he added after a beat. He held it up above his head without turning back.
Asahi took it from him tentatively. "Thanks." He decided not to press play right away. He leaned forward again, and placed his hands on Watarai's shoulders. "I don't mind telling her," Asahi reassured him again.
Watarai reached up to place one of his hands over Asahi's, leaning his head back so it rested against his knee. He looked up at him, upside down from Asahi's perspective, and smiled. "I'm not angry," he said. "I like Ikegaya. I was just curious."
Watarai looked uncharacteristically goofy like that, hair splayed every which way on the couch, straining his neck to look back at him. Asahi couldn't help but smile back. He instinctively started rearranging his hair, and Watarai straightened up again, facing forward properly once again.
Asahi continued to comb his hair down, making sure the stray ones were back in the correct place. It was silky soft and smelled so nice. He let his knuckles drop to his neck and brushed the skin there, before trailing them back up to behind his ears. Watarai hummed contentedly and let his head lull back more comfortably against his knee.
"I'll dry your hair this time, after your shower," Asahi decided.
"OK," Watarai agreed. He sounded both shy and delighted at the prospect. "You can hit play."
He slowly melted, head propped against Asahi and the couch, extending his long legs in front of him and under the coffee table. After only thirty minutes or so, he closed his eyes blissfully.
Asahi could hardly believe any of this was even happening. Watarai seemed to enjoy being pampered just as much as he loved showering him with attention. An incredible wave of affection washed over him, making him feel too big for his own skin. If Watarai felt even half of what he was feeling right this second, it would be enough to last him a lifetime.
He spent the entire movie playing with Watarai's hair, and watched none of what was on the screen.
—
"Hioki!" Asahi snapped his neck around at the sound of his name. Hotta bounded over to him excitedly, beaming. "Hi! Where are you headed?"
"Hey." He looked down pointedly, as he was obviously wearing sports attire. "Uh, going to badminton practice," he replied. Hotta naturally fell into step with him.
"How was your weekend?"
Asahi pressed his lips together, trying not to smile to stupidly, nodding. "It was fun," he said neutrally.
"Did you fight back?" Hotta asked jokingly.
Asahi sighed with a laugh. "I think."
"Good for you," he said, bumping his shoulder amicably. "Just letting you know, Nakasato might grill you guys a bit at lunch."
Asahi rolled his eyes, and waved Hotta away when he slowed down, switching directions to go to his own class.
Asahi walked further and spotted Tsujitani at the entrance of the gymnasium. He smiled and waved hello. "Hioki, you're alive!" he exclaimed, dramatic as ever.
"Huh?"
"I thought I would hear from you during the weekend. Not one text," he cried, pulling at his sports jacket with exaggerated movements. "I thought you died!"
"What are you saying, even?"
Tsujitani threw an arm around him, startling him. He frogmarched him inside the gym, to join their friends, already playing a few practice rallies to warm up. "You're so secretive these days," he said, eying him suspiciously.
Asahi coughed up a fake laugh, hoping he wasn't blushing. "What? That's not true."
"Hioki." Tsujitani twirled him around to face him, holding his shoulders firmly. "Did you see that Watarai didn't post anything on his Instagram this weekend? I've had a girl come up to me this morning to ask me about it. Me. She asked me. About Watarai. Isn't that crazy? Because she noticed we followed each other on insta." He barked out a hysterical laugh. "I don't even know who she is! But she knows who I am!
Asahi made a face, amused in spite of himself. "What the hell do you want me to do about it?"
"What did he do this weekend? I'm too scared to ask him directly."
"Why do you need…?"
"I promised I would find out for her. She was very cute, I panicked. I need the intel so I can talk to her again."
"Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?"
"So?" Tsujitani shook his shoulders, looking crazed. "She thinks I'm like, close to him."
"He didn't do anything interesting. Watched TV, ate food," Asahi said.
Tsujitani released his grip on him, looking horrified. "That's boring. Are you sure? How do you know?"
"He was with me," he replied without thinking.
Tsujitani froze, and a stray shuttlecock from the nearby rally two students were playing hit him squarely on the side of the head. Asahi made a surprised noise and hurried to pick it up before sending it back to his other teammates. When he looked at Tsujitani again, he hadn't moved. "Are you OK?"
"Hioki…" he said, sounding distant. "You know I'm not very perceptive. But I have to ask you something." Asahi swallowed thickly, nervous but ready to tell the truth. Tsujitani was his long time friend. He had wanted to tell him for a while, so might as well just get it over with. "Is Watarai your…" he began, scrunching up his face and bracing himself for the answer, "… your new… best friend?"
"Eh?" Asahi exclaimed loudly.
"You can tell me the truth, I can handle it," he said with the face of someone who could definitely not handle it.
"Stop with your nonsense," Asahi replied, exasperated. He pushed on Tsujitani's shoulder to get him to move. "Get your racket, let's go."
Maybe he'd tell him another time.
—
"Cute," Asahi chuckled, observing Watarai.
He made a confused noise, looking up at Asahi from his phone. He was still sitting at his desk.
Asahi had come to Watarai's class during a free period. Watarai was excited to see him; he had pulled out his phone and was scrolling earnestly through his camera roll to show Asahi a drawing his little brother had made for him. Most other students had chosen to get some air, so there were only three other people in the class. One at the front, napping with her head buried under her school jacket, and two others huddled around a phone, whispering too seriously and urgently about something to pay attention to anything else.
Either way, he didn't really care what people might think for once.
"What?" Watarai asked in the end, when Asahi said nothing else.
"It's the face you make, when you're weirdly happy about something," Asahi explained. He flicked the corner of Watarai's mouth affectionately, where that specific smile, almost a pout, was still hanging.
Watarai's eyebrows climbed a little higher on his forehead. He grabbed Asahi's hand, suddenly looking possessed. "Careful now."
Asahi pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. "Uh huh, so anyway, you told your baby brother about having a new friend and he drew this for me? Or did he draw it for his Tsukasa?"
Watarai's grip around his hand tightened, and his smile fully dropped. He got up without looking away, towering over him. Was he always that tall? Asahi thought he was safe because they weren't alone, but maybe he had misjudged Watarai's control after all.
"Are you trying to torture me? Why would you do this to me where I can't do anything about it?"
"Sorry, sorry, I'm just teasing," Asahi said in a low voice, already giggling. So dramatic.
"Can you do that all the time?"
"What, tease you?" Asahi asked.
"Calling me by my name." Watarai stepped away from his desk, towards to back of the classroom, covering Asahi from view in case either of the two gossipy classmates were to look their way.
"Tsukasa?" Asahi repeated, carefully studying Watarai's expression.
His jaw clamped shut, he nodded stiffly. "Mm," he confirmed.
It didn't feel like much of a big deal to Asahi, but he basked in the effect it seemed to have.
"Tsukasa." Asahi watched two bright red splotches bloom on his boyfriend's cheeks. Clearly flustered, he deliberately looked to the side. Asahi tried to catch his eyes, but he kept avoiding him, looking the other way. "What's wrong, Tsukasa? Tsukasa, you're looking all strange. Do you need to go to the infirmary, Tsuka—"
He yanked on Asahi's arm, sending him crashing against his chest. Asahi braced against his shoulder to right himself, slightly panicked but still very amused.
"Can you really handle it, Asahi?" Tsukasa murmured, bending slightly to speak the words directly into his ear. Electricity zinged through his veins.
Without waiting for a reply, he then marched out of the classroom, tugging Asahi behind him.
"I apologize, I apologize," Asahi said quickly, stuttering and already out of breath with laughter, but he didn't sound very sorry even to his own ears. "You said I could!"
Tsukasa could not be swayed, and he marched ahead, pulling Asahi along. The two students paused their important meeting to watch them leave with great interest. On their way out the door, they met Morisaki, who was coming back from the bathroom. He jumped out of Tsukasa's way to avoid being rammed over. His head turned slowly, eyes following Asahi being dragged behind Tsukasa.
"Wait, wait—help," Asahi pleaded to Morisaki in a whining tone, planting his feet in the ground to slow them down.
"I don't think you need help," Morisaki replied evenly, still watching Tsukasa pull on his arm, walking them both further and further away. He skillfully pulled out his phone to take a picture or a video of them—no doubt for the group chat—deaf to Asahi's calls and delighted laughter.
