Archive of Our Own

The first thing Nagi says when he wakes up is Reo’s name.

The first time, it’s so quiet that Reo almost doesn’t hear it. It doesn’t help that Reo’s been trying to stay awake for the past few days and slipping in and out of consciousness for the past few hours. He’s hazy enough that he almost attributes the murmur of his name to something of a dream, but when he hears it again in that unmistakable voice—

“Reo?”

Reo startles enough to nearly fall out of his chair. He manages to sit himself up again, before immediately surging forward to cup Nagi’s face with both hands.

“Nagi,” Reo breathes out, “you’re…” He trails off when he feels an embarrassing lump begin to form in his throat. Without another word, he pulls Nagi into a crushing hug. Nagi makes a slight noise of surprise at the action, but his arms tentatively come to rest around Reo after a few moments.

“Reo,” Nagi says after a while. “You’re squishing me.”

“Ah—ah, yeah, sorry,” Reo says quickly, brushing a hand over his eyes as he pulls away. “Sorry,” he says again. “I was just—” He swallows. He shakes his head. “I was—worried.”

Understatement of the year. Reo’s half-surprised he hasn’t passed out yet from sheer relief.

“Reo,” Nagi murmurs, bringing a hand of his own to brush under Reo’s eye, “you look…” He trails off. “Tired.”

Reo jerks back a little, bringing a self-conscious hand to rub at the dark circles most definitely tugging at his eyes. God, he probably looks like a mess. He knew he should have gone home at some point, but he had been paralyzed at the thought of moving from Nagi’s side at all. If he’d missed the moment Nagi woke up, he would have never forgiven himself.

“Sorry,” Reo finds himself apologizing again. “I’ve not been home in… a while.”

Nagi’s brows furrow together. “How long?”

“Um…” Reo hums, tapping a finger against the table by Nagi’s bed. “Three… days? I think?” Truth be told, it had seemed like a much longer time to Reo—but he elects not to mention that specific fact to Nagi. He thinks he’s embarrassed himself here enough for the time being.

Nagi’s eyebrows raise. “Three days?” He frowns. “I’ve been out that long?”

Reo huffs out a weak laugh. “Like I said,” he says with a squeeze of Nagi’s hand, “I was worried.”

Nagi stares at their clasped hands. “You didn’t have to stay.”

Reo stares at their clasped hands, too. “I wanted to.”

They’re quiet for a few moments. Reo is surprised Nagi hasn’t pulled his hand away yet. Ultimately, it’s Reo that pulls away first, turning away to clear his throat.

“Er… anyway,” he says quickly, not wanting to dwell too much in the oddly intimate moment. “I’ll go see how much longer you need to be kept here. If your vitals are okay, you’ll probably get discharged soon enough—”

He makes to stand, but he’s stopped almost immediately by a hand on his sleeve.

“Wait,” Nagi says. He’s fidgeting—it’s odd. Reo’s never seen Nagi restless as he appears to be now. After a few moments, he lets go of Reo’s sleeve to tug at his own fingers. “I’m…”

“Yeah?” Reo has to prod when Nagi falls silent.

“I’m… tired,” Nagi admits eventually.

“Oh,” Reo says. “Yeah, of course. You can rest here, I’ll make sure no one bothers you for a while—”

“No.” Nagi shakes his head. “I mean…” He trails off and is silent for a moment before he speaks up again. “Could we just go home?”

Reo stares at him. “What, right now?”

Nagi nods. Reo’s mouth flaps open and closed a few times.

“But you’re…” Reo hesitates. “I don’t think that’s safe right now. Especially—you live by yourself, and I don’t think you should be alone right now—”

“Then,” Nagi interrupts. “Could I stay with Reo?”

Reo blinks. “With me?”

Nagi nods. “Reo would take care of me.” He blinks at Reo. “Right?”

“Uh,” Reo says, a bit lost. “Yes—yeah, of course, but—” He presses his lips together. “Nagi, don’t you think it would be better to stay here, at least for a little bit?”

“I’d rather be with you,” Nagi says simply. Reo bites the inside of his cheek.

“Well,” Reo says eventually. “Well. If you’re sure.”

Nagi doesn’t smile, but he does something close to it. “I’m sure.” He raises his arms. “Carry me?”

Reo huffs out a fond sigh.

“Anything for you, treasure.”

Reo isn’t insecure about where he lives. That would be ridiculous. His family owns a 53 floor building, Reo has an entire floor to himself, and it’s not like Nagi hasn’t been around before.

But every time Nagi had previously visited, it had only been for a few hours, at most. Reo would usually end up dragging Nagi over after practice to go over the new techniques they’d learned—although those meetings would usually end with them playing video games after Nagi complained about being bored. This—what they’re doing right now—feels different. Nagi isn’t just going to be playing video games here, Nagi’s going to be staying here. Nagi’s going to be staying here, and Reo’s going to try to take care of him, but what if Reo becomes too much? Reo knows he can be overbearing, and he tries to reign himself in sometimes, but if he’s with Nagi all the time, then—

Well. He’s not so sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He can already imagine Nagi’s reaction, too—a quiet, annoyed glance and a murmur of “you’re being a pain.”

Reo doesn’t think he’ll be able to take it.

And, to be honest, Reo doesn’t particularly like where he lives. He doesn’t particularly dislike it, either—he simply doesn’t feel anything about it at all. He understands, to a certain extent, the privilege that he has to be able to live here, but at the same time, he can’t help but resent it, sometimes. These vast, pristine halls can often feel more like a cage than a home, and he fears that it won’t be long before Nagi feels the same.

But Nagi is very direct. Reo can at least take solace in that fact—if Nagi is bothered at any point about staying here, Reo knows he’ll make it very clear. So for now, all Reo can do is try to be the best host he can be.

“This is the guest bedroom,” Reo shows Nagi, “it’s pretty spacious, and my room’s right next door, so if you need anything…” He trails off when he sees the look on Nagi’s face. “It’s… fine, right?”

Nagi doesn’t say anything for another moment. There’s an almost skeptical tilt to his eyebrows, and Reo’s skin immediately floods with panic.

“Well—well!” he says quickly, waving his hands in the air. “No, you’re right, this is probably too small—how about you take my room instead, yeah? I’ll, uh—I can move all my stuff in here, so you can have more space—”

“No,” Nagi interrupts. Reo stares at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s… alright.”

Reo hesitates. “Are you sure?”

Nagi gives Reo an unreadable look before his gaze drops. “It’s fine. I just thought…” He shakes his head. “Never mind.”

Never mind? Never mind? What was that supposed to mean? What happened to Nagi being direct about things?

Before Reo can grab Nagi by the collar and shake out an answer, Nagi shuffles forward and begins to place his belongings around the room. There’s not much he has with him—only what he still had with him at the hospital. Reo had offered to stop by Nagi’s place first and pick up some more things, but Nagi had ended the conversation by shaking his head quietly. Reo watches him, feeling a bit awkward standing by the door with nothing to do, when his gaze lands on an empty space on the desk by Nagi’s bed.

“Oh,” Reo says, pleased to finally get the chance to be helpful. “You’ll want Choki around, right? I can go and grab him quickly while you settle in—”

“No,” Nagi says.

Reo blinks at him. “No?”

Nagi gives one of his pillows an experimental poke before he turns to Reo. “No,” he says again. “It’s okay.”

“You’re… sure?” Reo juts a thumb behind him. “It really wouldn’t be that much trouble. I could even get someone else to pick it up, if you want.”

Nagi shakes his head. “There’s no need.”

“O… kay,” Reo agrees after a moment of scrutiny. He’s a bit confused at Nagi’s insistence on this point, but he decides to drop it with a shake of his head. There were more important things to be worried about, such as the fact that Nagi hasn’t eaten anything in days. “Anyway, you must be hungry by now, right? I’ll call my chef so he can prepare us something…” He trails off when he sees the look on Nagi’s face. “What is it?”

Nagi opens his mouth, then closes it, then looks away. He brings a hand to the back of his neck.

“Reo, could you…” Nagi trails off before he lets his hand drop and ducks his head. “Sorry. I might be asking too much of Reo.”

“What? No!” Reo quickly shakes his head. “No, no, I’m… it’s no bother. Anything is fine. Really,” he adds emphatically when Nagi gives him a skeptical look. “What is it that you want?”

Nagi’s expression turns almost bashful. “Could… you cook for me?”

Well. It’s not the oddest thing Nagi has requested, but…

“I’m… not very good at it,” Reo has to admit, avoiding Nagi’s eyes. “Cooking, I mean. I’ve… I’ve not really had much practice, so…” He trails off. That’s about the most diplomatic way he can phrase his utter incompetence in the kitchen. It’s not like he hasn’t tried, but it’s also not like he necessarily needs to cook himself very often when he has a designated chef.

Nagi doesn’t seem fazed by this knowledge. Perhaps Reo should have been a bit more straightforward about his skill level.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” is what Nagi says with a vaguely forlorn expression on his face. And, well—how is Reo supposed to say no to that?

“I do,” Reo blurts out, “want to.” He feels his cheeks burn a bit when he registers what he’s just said. “I mean, you know—yeah. I don’t mind. If you don’t mind.”

A secret part of Reo is quietly rejoicing at this turn of events. He doesn’t just get to take care of Nagi now, he even gets the chance to cook for Nagi? This felt like the set up of a bad romcom, the type Nagi would quietly complain about during their occasional movie nights. Reo has to be careful here, very careful—if he gets too caught up in domesticity of it all, he might just—

Reo cuts off that train of thought sharply.

“I don’t mind,” Nagi says. It takes a blink for Reo to remember what he’s talking about.

“Um,” Reo says. “Okay. Okay!” He claps his hands together. All of a sudden, he feels filled with a frantic, buzzing energy. “Let me see what we have in the pantry.” It’s usually well-stocked by virtue of Reo’s chefs, which should make Reo’s job easier. Surely a meal would come to mind after he sees what’s available, right?

Reo throws open the pantry. He is immediately incredibly lost.

The problem isn’t that there isn’t anything inside—in fact, the problem is the opposite: there’s far too much inside. Every ingredient Reo can possibly think of is inside, and Reo doesn’t have the faintest clue where to begin.

He stares at the shelves for a few more moments before clearing his throat and turning to Nagi. “Is there… anything in particular you want?”

Nagi takes a seat at the counter and gives Reo a half-shrug. “Anything’s fine if Reo makes it.”

That’s a sweet sentiment that Reo’s going to overthink later in the safety of his own room, but it’s also an incredibly unhelpful answer. Reo gives Nagi a weak smile and turns back to the pantry.

After a few more moments of blankly staring at the pantry’s contents, Reo pulls out a few random ingredients that he guesses will probably go well together. He couldn’t go wrong with soup, right?

As Reo starts rummaging around the kitchen for a pot, he has the distinct feeling that this is going to be an especially embarrassing ordeal. A distant part of Reo thinks—what would he do if this gets out? The Mikage heir doesn’t even know how to make soup? 

Reo finds a pot. He glances at Nagi and finds Nagi watching him. Reo looks away.

He’ll probably be fine. He’s pretty sure Nagi isn’t rushing to tell anyone about this.

The smart thing to do here is obviously to just search up a recipe on Reo’s phone and follow it—even Reo, as inept as he is in the kitchen, should be able to do that much. But something stops Reo from reaching for his phone. Maybe it was his irrational sense of pride speaking, but he wanted to at least try to do this for Nagi himself first. If he didn’t burn the kitchen down in his first attempt, Reo would consider using a recipe next time—assuming Nagi was interested in a next time.

Reo realizes eventually that he’s been staring blankly at a pot for the past few minutes. He quickly fills it with water and puts it to boil.

He can feel Nagi watching him all the while. He’s mildly surprised by this. He knows Nagi is the one who requested Reo to cook for him in the first place, but Reo had absolutely expected him to have pulled out his phone by now. Reo can hardly imagine what’s so interesting about watching him putter around the kitchen. Nagi’s gaze following him, he supposes, is another reason he hesitates to pull out his phone for assistance.

Eventually, Reo ladles his finished soup in a bowl and hands it to Nagi. It’s only when he does that he realizes how hungry he is, too, so he finds another bowl and sets aside a portion for himself.

“It’s, uh…” Reo trails off when he realizes he has no earthly idea what he’s actually produced. “Lemon… chicken soup,” he eventually decides. He figured Nagi needed some protein after the hospital stay, and he knew Nagi liked lemon tea, but as he catches a whiff of his own soup, he gets the sinking suspicion he may have gone just a little bit overboard on the lemon.

“Thanks,” Nagi murmurs. Reo watches with bated breath as he takes his first sip, waiting for that annoyed scrunch of his nose when the flavor hits his tongue— “It’s good.”

Oh. Maybe Reo isn’t so terrible at this, after all.

Reo takes a sip from his own soup and nearly drops his own spoon.

That is… truly awful.

Nagi seems to have no problem with it, though, because by the time Reo dares to glance at Nagi again, half of his bowl is finished. Reo can do nothing but gawk as Nagi finishes the remaining soup with ease. Reo doesn’t even know if he can stomach another spoonful of his own portion, so when Nagi turns to him with an obvious question in his eyes, Reo wordlessly pushes his own soup forward. Nagi makes quick work of that, too. To say Reo is bewildered by this is an understatement.

No, no, Reo had to be reading this all wrong. There was no way Nagi actually enjoyed that—he was probably just being polite, although Reo can’t actually remember a time Nagi had ever been polite without Reo forcing him to be. What was he thinking, forcing Nagi to down that barely edible soup? He should apologize.

He opens his mouth to do just that, but Nagi beats him to the punch.

“Sorry.”

Reo blinks. Nagi’s staring at his two empty bowls. “You’re sorry? For what?”

Nagi glances at him briefly before looking away again. “Sorry, Reo,” he murmurs again. “I’m being a pain, right?”

“What?” Reo says, his eyes widening. “What? No!”

Nagi shakes his head. “First, I ask to stay with you, then I ask you to cook for me…” He trails off. “I’m being selfish.” He looks up from his bowls again. “Right, Reo?”

If anything, Reo was the selfish one between the two of them—but he doesn’t tell Nagi that.

“No,” Reo says, reaching forward to clasp Nagi’s hands. “No, it’s… it’s okay.” Nagi still looks unconvinced. Reo hesitates for a moment before continuing. “I… I like taking care of you.”

Nagi does that faint, almost-smile again at Reo’s words. Reo’s heart does something funny.

Ah, he thinks. I might be in trouble.

Reo is definitely in trouble.

It’s been… difficult living with Nagi, to say the least.

It isn’t because Nagi is an awful roommate, far from it. Actually, Nagi is quite unobtrusive as a roommate, even if he does have the tendency to leave his things everywhere. Reo doesn’t mind that so much, though.

No, the problem isn’t that his things are everywhere—the problem is that Nagi is everywhere. Nagi is everywhere, and it is doing terrible things to Reo’s heart.

It would be easier if Reo could just get used to it—and if it was just a simple, detached routine, Reo would have no trouble getting used to it at all. It’s what he expected, after all—why would living with Nagi be anything different? Nagi likes simple, Nagi likes detached. But every time Reo manages to get used to his new schedule, Nagi will surprise him with a drastic change out of the blue.

Take cooking, for example: Reo had continued to make meals for the both of them for the rest of the week, improving very, very, very slowly, but just as he had grown accustomed to finding his way around the kitchen, Nagi had asked, completely unprompted, if he could cook for Reo. The first time Nagi had asked, Reo had been so stunned that he’d nearly forgotten about the food he had on the stove. He managed to rescue it in time, stopping his gaping long enough to salvage the meal before it got too burnt. It still didn’t look particularly appetizing, to Reo’s chagrin, but Nagi never complains. Reo has no idea why.

“Sorry,” he feels the need to apologize when he pushes the plate forward. Nagi shakes his head, dismissing the apology like he always does. Reo has no idea why he does that, either. “Um… I think I misheard you earlier. What did you ask?”

By the time Reo gets the words out, Nagi is done with over half of his plate. Reo faintly wonders if he should take Nagi to the hospital again. Wasn’t this the same Nagi who always said eating was a pain? How was he able to inhale Reo’s awful cooking so fast, without even a word of complaint?

“Could I cook tomorrow?” Nagi asks again, looking entirely unruffled at the obviously out-of-character request. Reo’s mouth flaps open and closed a few times.

“You…” Reo trails off. “You want to cook?” He shakes his head. “You want to cook?”

Nagi dips his head in a subtle nod. “I want to… thank you for all your help so far.”

Reo has to try very hard not to start gaping at Nagi again. “You’re—oh—I mean, no, that’s…” He shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that. Nagi, that’s… very sweet of you to offer, but I’m… that’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself.”

Nagi tilts his head to the side. “But I want to.”

“You want to,” Reo repeats weakly. “Uh. Right.” Nagi’s still staring at him. Reo’s eyes dart away. “I mean, if you… if you’re sure, if you really want to—”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Reo says weakly. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

And so Nagi does. Making the request is one thing, but carrying it out—actually seeing Nagi putter around the kitchen by himself without any assistance from Reo—is something else entirely. Reo worries the entire time, because of course he does—he has no idea how much experience Nagi has in the kitchen, and it really hasn’t been that long since he’s left the hospital, and there are about a hundred things that could go wrong—

—but nothing does. In fact, Nagi finishes making a meal even faster than Reo typically does. And nothing burns down.

“Wow,” is all he can manage to say when Nagi slides a bowl of soup towards him. “I’m… thanks, Nagi, this is really…” He trails off. This would be a large gesture from anyone, but from Nagi particularly—to see the boy who thinks getting up in the morning is a pain go to all of this trouble for Reo makes something dangerous lurch in his heart.

“Try it,” Nagi urges when Reo trails off into silence.

So Reo tries it. It’s…

Well, it’s not great. It’s not bad, either, it just kind of tastes like… nothing.

But Reo’s not going to say that to the boy who’s watching him so expectantly, to the boy who put in this level of effort for Reo. In fact, this may very well be the best soup Reo’s ever had.

“It’s… really good,” he tells Nagi with a smile. “This is wonderful. Thank you so much.”

Nagi looks supremely pleased at this—or, at least, as pleased as he can look. Reo’s smile widens. Nagi could be so cute in times like this. It’s a side of him Reo doesn’t often get to see, so he’ll treasure this moment while it lasts.

“Do… you want to try some?” Reo offers, lifting a spoon of soup. Nagi opens his mouth, and Reo feeds him the soup. It’s nothing they haven’t done before, but the context makes it feel entirely different, and Reo feels a little thrum of excitement hum under his skin.

“Hm,” Nagi says, evidently evaluating his own cooking. “It’s okay.”

“It’s great,” Reo says, and the corners of Nagi’s eyes turn up again in that pleased expression. Reo thinks he would say anything to preserve that expression.

So that’s something to get used to. Now, they somewhat consistently alternate between who makes their meals in the kitchen. Sometimes—and this is the especially dangerous part—they’ll even cook together. That’s when Reo really has to keep a hold on himself, because it becomes easy—so, so easy—to pretend that this is a life he actually has with Nagi. That their world exists with just the two of them, cooking together in the kitchen, just like any other married couple—

It’s a dangerous line of thinking, and one Reo is especially susceptible to. He tries his best to keep himself in check for his own sanity.

Nagi, however, seems insistent to make this as difficult for Reo as possible. Because cooking and spending time with Nagi is one thing, but—

“Sorry,” Reo says faintly. “You want to sleep with me?”

Nagi has the sense to look faintly embarrassed when Reo phrases it like that, but he looks away with a half-shrug. “I like Reo’s room better.”

“So you want to sleep there,” Reo says. “In my bed. With me in it.”

Nagi nods. Reo brings a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Um. Why?”

Nagi gives him another half-shrug. “I haven’t been able to sleep well recently.”

“And you think me being there would help how?”

Nagi brings a hand to the back of his neck. “Because I… like being with Reo.”

Reo lets out a vaguely strangled noise. He knew Nagi was forward, but since when was he this forward? God, if Reo didn’t know any better, he’d think Nagi was trying to say that—

Reo shoves that line of thought far, far away. Obviously, Nagi was just—cold, or something. It was probably nothing a few extra blankets couldn’t fix. He should say no. This is a ridiculous request—there is no earthly reason they need to share a bed. Reo should really, really say no.

He says yes anyway.

The next morning, when Reo wakes up to Nagi’s limbs tangled around him—they’re cold, which must be why Nagi is wrapped around Reo at all—and his head buried in the crook of Reo’s neck, with that soft, peaceful expression on his face, he almost blurts it out right there—

—I love you.

Because he does. God, does he love Nagi.

A part of Reo thinks he always has. It’s a fairly recent realization, but the feeling hasn’t changed. That jump in his throat, the electricity under his skin, the tug in his chest—Nagi has always had the same effect on Reo, but it’s only been recently that Reo has been able to put a name to it. He’d thought identifying the feeling would make it better, but no—now, Reo is terrified. Earlier, it was easy enough to push down—he could always return to his own home, his own room and unwind the tangled feelings in his chest. But now? Now, Nagi is in his home, Nagi is in his room, Nagi is everywhere, and Reo has no time to do anything but drown in his own thoughts. It’s a suffocating, almost oppressive feeling that Reo would be able to relieve easily if he just told Nagi about his feelings—

—but he can’t do it. That’s not fair to Nagi, not now, not like this.

Never mind the fact that he has no idea what Nagi’s reaction would be—he can’t put Nagi in such a position while he is actively taking care of him. Nagi has yet to drop any hints that he’s even thinking of moving out any time soon, and Reo thinks he would probably hate himself if his selfish confession was the reason for Nagi to leave.

So he shoves it down, down, down, until Reo can delude himself into thinking these feelings never existed at all—even though this task becomes harder and harder and harder every single morning when he wakes up to Nagi tangled around him, because it all feels so terrible, wretchedly domestic, because it all feels like everything Reo’s ever wanted—

But what he has right now is enough. It has to be.

“Reo,” Nagi says, “can I tell you something?”

Reo is immediately on edge. He knows what this conversation is going to look like—he knew he hadn’t been subtle enough, he should have known that all of his emotions would be written plainly on his face any time he interacted with Nagi. Obviously, Nagi had figured out Reo’s feelings towards him, and obviously, he would be moving out immediately because he was uncomfortable. God, how could Reo have been so stupid as to think this would last?

At the very least, Reo should be able to take this with grace. He trusts that Nagi would have the kindness to let him down gently. He swallows down his nerves.

“...yeah?”

Nagi fidgets. If Reo didn’t know any better, Reo would say he was nervous. Reo can’t imagine why he would be. If Nagi was confronting him about Reo’s feelings, what reason would Nagi have to look nervous? Maybe he was still thinking of the best way to phrase his rejection. Reo picks at his fingernails.

“You can’t get mad at me,” Nagi continues quietly, and Reo’s eyebrows raise.

“Um… alright,” he agrees after a moment of scrutinizing his best friend’s face. “I won’t get mad.”

“I,” Nagi starts before immediately falling silent again. He looks at Reo, then looks away, then looks at Reo again. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Reo’s mouth opens. Reo’s mouth closes.

“Huh,” he croaks out.

“I’ve… been feeling like this for a while,” Nagi mumbles, averting his gaze from Reo. “I just, um, didn’t really know… what to—what to do. Or what to say. But I thought—” He looks up before looking away again. “I thought, maybe, you would want to know.” He scratches his arm. “Yeah.” He coughs. “Sorry,” he finally mumbles.

“Sorry,” Reo repeats faintly after a few moments of gaping at Nagi, the only word his mind could actually comprehend out of what Nagi was saying. “What—what are you sorry for?”

Nagi’s gaze drops. “I’ve made Reo uncomfortable.”

“No,” Reo finally remembers to speak. “No, Nagi, god, you… you’re—” He lets out a helpless laugh before resting his hands on Nagi’s face. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?”

Reo is close enough to see the flecks of amber within the gray as Nagi’s eyes widen. He tries to look away, but his gaze returns to Reo’s in just a few moments.

“For… soccer, right?” comes Nagi’s quiet question.

“No. I mean, yes, but… no.” Reo can’t help but snicker at Nagi’s resulting confused expression. “Sorry. Let me try again.” He squeezes Nagi’s face gently in his hands. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Nagi’s lips part slightly. “Oh,” he says with a sort of awe. “Really?”

“Really,” Reo says. He can hardly believe he isn’t dreaming right now—he feels like he could float away at a moment’s notice, giddy with euphoria and maybe something else, too. “I didn’t know… I thought it was just about soccer for so long, but you…” He trails off. “I still want the World Cup. And we’re still getting it. Together,” he emphasizes with another squeeze to Nagi’s face. “But I think I’ve… wanted you for a long time, too.”

“And what Reo wants, Reo gets,” Nagi murmurs. Reo barks out an amused laugh.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But I didn’t think… I never thought you…” He bites the inside of his cheek. Nagi’s been vulnerable with him, so Reo thinks it’s only fair that he be vulnerable with Nagi in return. “I never thought you would want me, though. Not like… not like this.”

Reo’s surprised to see Nagi almost pout in response. “Reoooo,” he whines. “I asked to sleep with you, and you still didn’t get it.”

“Oh,” Reo says, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Oh,” he says again with a laugh. “That actually—that makes a lot of sense.” He rubs a thumb over Nagi’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I was just—I was scared. I didn’t want to read too much into things, I thought…” He trails off before shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m just—” He breaks off with another laugh. “I’m really happy right now.”

Nagi hums, leaning into Reo’s touch. “Me too.” In the silence that follows, his gaze dips to Reo’s lips before he looks up again. In a voice hardly louder than a whisper, he asks, “Can I…?”

“Please,” Reo murmurs.

There’s not much else to say after that.

Reo expects things to change. Reo expects this to be a monumental shift—everything should feel different, shouldn’t it? Nagi ought to be acting differently now, shouldn’t he?

It doesn’t, and he doesn’t. Everything is almost exactly the same, but easier, because now Reo can get used to everything he forced himself not to before. There isn’t much shift in Nagi’s behavior either, which makes Reo feel a little silly—in hindsight, he should have been able to pick up on Nagi’s feelings. He supposes he was a bit too distracted wrangling his own feelings to notice, though—and now that he doesn’t have to do that, he can devote a little more time to identifying that flicker in Nagi’s eyes when Reo catches him watching him: it’s fondness, and Reo dares to say it might even be love. Now that Reo can identify it, he finds it everywhere—and any time he does, it never fails to fill him with a giddy sort of joy.

It’s the type of joy that never seems to leave Reo. It’s present in the morning, the afternoon, and the evening—but Reo thinks his favorite time of day with Nagi might be in the morning. Now, he doesn’t have to be wracked with guilt when he wakes to Nagi’s limbs tangled around him, and he can even burrow into Nagi’s arms even more—after all, it’s not like there’s anywhere else he has to be. He gets the feeling Nagi likes these moments, too—Nagi was always a bit of a slow riser, but he seems even more reluctant to leave the bed during the mornings now, with Reo. He’s taken to holding Reo hostage in the morning, refusing to release him until Reo meets his kiss quota. It’s a cute, childish thing that Reo wouldn’t have expected from Nagi, but he thinks it might make him love Nagi even more.

Reo supposes the only real thing that’s changed is Nagi’s propensity for physical affection. He’d never allowed himself to even consider the possibility of being in a relationship with Nagi, but a small part of Reo had sometimes indulged in the fantasy—and in that fantasy, Reo was the one constantly pampering and being affectionate with Nagi. Nagi was notorious for calling everything—training, eating, living—a pain, and Reo had originally thought it would be foolish to think a romantic relationship was something Nagi would be willing to put effort into. Even still, those secret fantasies had always made Reo blush—

—but now, he’s realizing exactly to what extent he’d underestimated Nagi. At any given time, Nagi is attached to him—a hand draped on his waist, a brush of his lips against Reo’s cheek, or his entire weight draped on Reo’s back. Reo’s used to the last one from giving Nagi so many piggyback rides, but the others are new. Reo would always startle a bit in the beginning, but he’d turn to find Nagi watching him with that fond look of his and relax into the touch. Reo thinks he probably should have guessed this characteristic of Nagi, too, in hindsight—he always did enjoy receiving Reo’s physical affection even before they started dating, and it wasn’t too surprising that he’d like giving it, too. Still, Reo can hardly believe it’s real, sometimes. It doesn’t feel real, but Nagi makes sure to constantly remind Reo that it is, in fact, real.

After all, it becomes just a bit harder to think that it isn’t real when Reo is getting kissed within an inch of his life. That, he supposes, is a rather significant change, but Reo can’t find it in himself to categorize it as such when it all feels so natural. Being with Nagi, loving Nagi, trailing his hands through his hair and smiling against his lips comes as easy to Reo as breathing, and it makes Reo heady when he realizes he is allowed to have this unconditionally. What Reo wants is what Reo gets, but Reo didn’t even realize how much he wanted this until he has it between his hands.

Reo worries, sometimes, that he’s a bit too overenthusiastic with it all. While he’s certainly received his fair share of confessions, he’s never actually been in a relationship before, and despite Nagi’s constant reassurance, he can’t help but fear that he’s coming off too strong. One day, Reo decides to put voice to this concern, pulling away a little even as Nagi chases after his lips just a moment later.

“Wait,” Reo says, still sounding a little breathless. Nagi pauses to blink up at Reo, and Reo has half a mind to immediately return to kissing him senseless. He forces the urge down. “Um.” God. He could never seem to find the right words when he’s with Nagi. “This… this is—this is fine, right?”

Nagi tilts his head to the side.

“I mean—” Reo shifts a little so that he’s a few more inches away from Nagi. “I’m not—this isn’t—” He gestures vaguely between them. “This isn’t too much, is it?” When Nagi doesn’t immediately respond, Reo hurries to continue. “I mean, if it is, that’s fine—I mean, it’s not fine, obviously, and I can stop—”

“No,” Nagi interrupts. “Don’t stop.” There’s a heavy sort of intensity behind Nagi’s gaze that makes something dangerous swoop in Reo’s gut. “Don’t ever stop.”

“Oh,” Reo says weakly. It’s a good thing he’s not standing, because he’s pretty sure his legs would have given way by now. “Okay.”

That’s all the permission Nagi needs to surge forward and capture Reo’s lips with his own again. Reo can’t help but grin against Nagi’s mouth, his hands resting on Nagi’s waist. There it is again: what Reo wants, Reo gets. It fills him with a childish sort of satisfaction, but he can’t help it—after so many weeks of wrestling his feelings down, down, down, it makes Reo unreasonably happy to let it bubble up and spill out, to see Nagi cup it gently in his hands and return it twofold back to Reo.

A buzzing noise breaks Reo out of his reverie. He startles a little bit, pulling away to see his phone on the table on the other side of the couch ringing. Reo is slightly dismayed that it’s interrupted such a nice time, but before he can even pick it up to see who’s calling, Nagi reaches over to silence the phone.

“What if that was important?” Reo says with a light laugh, even though he’s secretly supremely pleased by this turn of events.

Nagi shakes his head. “I want Reo to focus only on me,” he murmurs.

Well. How can Reo deny his treasure a request like that?

Then, naturally, Reo isn’t surprised when Nagi takes to draping himself over Reo while they’re in the kitchen, too. It makes getting around a little bit harder, but Reo certainly isn’t going to complain. One day, as Nagi buries his head into the crook of Reo’s neck as he chops some vegetables, Reo can’t help but ask a question that’s been on his mind for a while.

“Hey, Nagi?”

Nagi makes a discontented noise. Reo lets out a fond sigh and corrects himself.

“Seishiro?”

Nagi lets out a pleased hum. “Yeah?”

“Do you actually like my cooking, or do you just say that to be nice?”

Nagi stills. Reo has to fight back a laugh. He’s put Nagi in a bit of a tough position, he has to admit.

“I like Reo,” is Nagi’s eventual answer, and Reo snickers before turning around to face Nagi.

“That’s not an answer, silly.”

“I like Reo,” Nagi repeats slowly, “and everything about Reo. So I like your cooking, too.”

Reo supposes that’s not an answer he can argue with.

“What about you?” Nagi blinks at him. “Does Reo like my cooking?”

Reo grins before cupping Nagi’s face in both of his hands. “I like everything about you, too, Seishiro.”

Nagi seems pleased enough with this answer. Reo drops a kiss on the tip of his nose before turning back to his vegetables, and when Nagi’s arms return to circle around his waist, Reo smiles.

This, he thinks, must be what it feels like to be loved.

As much as Reo adores this domestic bliss he still can’t believe he’s allowed to have, he can’t deny the fact that he’s getting just a little bit antsy.

He hasn’t left his apartment in ages—neither has Nagi, for that matter. Reo shudders to think of exactly how behind they are in soccer practice—the only real exercise the two of them have been doing is making out, and he’s fairly certain that doesn’t translate to anything helpful on the field. He feels a bit guilty bringing the point up to Nagi, though, since it hadn’t been that long since Nagi left the hospital. The last thing Reo wanted to do was force Nagi back into the sport if he wasn’t ready.

Also, Reo isn’t necessarily in a rush to return to a life where he has responsibilities outside of loving Nagi. But that’s besides the point.

Still, Reo knows very well that Nagi has the energy for at least some activity—then, maybe he could convince Nagi on just a short walk outside?

When he brings it up to Nagi, he looks skeptical. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, fiddling with Reo’s fingers. “I’d rather stay here with you.”

“We’d come back here, obviously—like I said, it would just be a short walk,” Reo tries, squeezing Nagi’s fingers. Nagi frowns.

“Sounds like a pain.”

It’s been a while since Reo’s heard that one. He sighs and gives Nagi his best pleading expression with wide eyes like he knows Nagi likes. “Please, Seishiro?”

Nagi caves almost immediately. “Not fair,” he tells Reo outside on the sidewalk. “You used the look.”

Reo laughs and squeezes Nagi’s hand as they walk. “Like you don’t do the same, Seishiro.” Nagi begins to pout, and Reo uses his other hand to point triumphantly at his expression. “See? There it is!”

Nagi shakes his head. “Not fair,” he says again. “Reo’s too cute.”

Reo reaches up to pinch Nagi’s cheek. “But my treasure’s the cutest!”

Reo snickers at Nagi’s resulting moue. They continue walking around aimlessly for a few minutes, Reo watching Nagi the entire time to make sure he’s not getting restless. It feels a bit surreal, walking this path they’ve walked hundreds of times before, except this time, when Reo wants to hold Nagi’s hand, he can. It’s a simple, silly thing, but it makes Reo happier than he can express.

Just as he figures they can begin walking home, Reo’s gaze catches on a GRAND OPENING sign in the corner of his vision.

“Oh!” he says excitedly, pulling Nagi closer. “That’s that new cafe that was under construction, I didn’t think it would be open already…” He trails off before grinning at Nagi. “How about we check it out?”

Nagi seems hesitant, but after a few moments of scrutinizing the cafe, he agrees with a small nod. Reo’s grin widens, and he begins tugging him towards the cafe. They get seated fairly quickly and get handed a single menu. Reo gives it a quick skim and begins to hand it over to Nagi, but Nagi shakes his head. Reo frowns.

“You don’t want anything?”

“I’ll share from what Reo has,” Nagi says, and Reo hums, returning to investigating the menu with new fervor. Nagi isn’t really a picky eater, at least from what Reo can tell from their time together, so Reo decides on a strawberry vanilla milkshake for the two of them. There’s only one straw in it when it arrives, and Reo frowns.

“I’ll ask for another one—”

“We can share, right?”

Reo opens his mouth, then closes it. That was possible now, wasn’t it? Reo can imagine himself just a few weeks ago panicking over the thought, but now—it wasn’t anything special at all, was it? So he agrees with a nod, and they make quick work of the drink between the two of them. Reo lets out a satisfied sigh as they exit the cafe after paying. He doesn’t want their day to be over, not just yet.

He turns to Nagi with wide eyes. “How about we go see a movie or something?”

Nagi brings a hand to the back of his neck. “I dunno,” he says quietly. “Too many people.”

“Oh, is that all?” Reo says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll just book out the entire theater. How about that?”

Nagi blinks at him. “Okay,” he eventually agrees.

Reo grins, and after a few minutes and some negotiation, they’re inside a completely empty movie theater.

“Wow,” Nagi says, glancing around at the empty seats before turning back to Reo. “You’re so cool.”

Reo shrugs, even though he’s secretly pleased by the compliment. “No big deal.” He reaches for Nagi’s hand and squeezes it tight. “We have the entire place to ourselves, so we can choose what movie to play. I told them to play Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind—that’s your favorite, right?” He remembers Nagi mentioning it a few times before, but he’s never had the chance to watch it himself.

Even in the dim lighting, Reo can see Nagi brighten a bit. “Reo remembered.”

“Of course I did!”

Reo’s quite excited for this, actually. He offers Nagi the choice to pick their movie any time they’re lazing around in Reo’s apartment, even before they started dating, but Nagi always just shrugs and returns the choice back to Reo. It means that Reo doesn’t really know what type of movie Nagi actually likes, and he’s curious to find out.

Reo’s immediately surprised to find that the film is of a much more romantic nature than he’d expected—then again, he’s been realizing that Nagi really is a romantic at heart, so maybe it shouldn’t have been so surprising. In the beginning, it seems to be a typical sort of romantic drama, but as it continues, Reo can’t help but grow a bit uneasy. By the end of the movie, he feels something restless itch under his skin. There was nothing wrong with the movie per se, but there’s something a bit bleak about the ending—optimistic as it may be—that has Reo unnerved. It takes everything in him not to start psychoanalyzing the movie to see why exactly it was Nagi’s favorite, and what that fact revealed about him.

As they exit the theater, Nagi peers at him. “Did you like it?”

Not really, would be Reo’s honest answer.

“Yeah!” Reo says brightly. “It was really interesting. Very, um, thought-provoking.” He coughs. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? I told you it would be nice to go outside for a bit.” He swings their hands between them. “Did you have fun?”

Nagi hums. “A little bit.”

Reo pokes him on the cheek. “Someone’s lying…”

Nagi looks away, but there’s a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. “It was fun,” he murmurs, and the simple, quiet admission makes Reo beam harder than he has the entire day.

“I’m glad,” he begins to say, but Nagi interrupts him to steal a kiss.

“I love you, Reo,” he says.

“Oh,” Reo says, a bit surprised by the sudden declaration. He smiles. “I love you too, Seishiro.”

Nagi’s lips curve into a half-smile.

“I know.”

Reo always wakes up in the morning before Nagi—Reo likes it, because it means he gets to watch Nagi for as long as he’d like. Today, he indulges in the sight for a few minutes before brushing a hand over Nagi’s bangs, pressing a light kiss on his cheek, and letting out a fond sigh.

“Morning, Seishiro,” he murmurs, and Nagi makes a muffled noise against his pillow. Reo untangles his arm from Nagi’s grasp before sliding out of bed, stretching back in a yawn as he heads to the bathroom.

On the way, he notices his phone still sitting on the table beside the couch. God, how long has it been since he’s checked it? Anyway, it’s not like Reo really talks to anyone aside from Nagi on it—the main purpose of his phone is to check his stocks. He’s been neglecting them for quite some time, and Reo supposes now is a good time as any to finally give them a look and make sure he isn’t losing too much money. With another yawn, Reo reaches for his phone. He taps at the screen and it lights up long enough for Reo to see—

—115 notifications?

Reo squints at his phone. That can’t be right.

Just as he taps the first notification, his phone lights up with a call. He ends up accidentally accepting the call, and Reo frowns. He’d much rather see what his 115 notifications are than talk to someone so early in the morning. The caller ID reads Hyoma Chigiri. What could the red-head possibly want with Reo this early in the day?

“Sorry,” Reo says, his finger hovering over the end call button. “It’s not a great time, can I call you back later?”

“Reo?”

Something about Chigiri’s tone of voice gives him pause. He stares at his phone.

“...yeah?”

Reo hears something clatter at the other end and the tail end of “–h my god,” before he hears another clatter. “Reo,” comes Chigiri’s voice again, this time more insistent. “Is that you?”

“...who else would it be?”

“Oh my god,” Reo can hear clearly now. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to reach you? How long all of us have been trying to reach you?”

“Sorry,” Reo says after a bewildered pause. “I was kind of…” His gaze trails over back to his bedroom where Nagi still sleeps. “...preoccupied.”

“I mean, sure, but…” Reo hears a slow sigh. “Reo, are you okay?”

There’s that uneasy feeling under his skin again, just like after the movie. It’s a perfectly innocuous question, but something about the way it’s phrased—

“Yeah,” Reo says shortly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Really?” Chigiri asks, the skepticism clear even through the phone. After a pause, his voice softens. “You know, it’s okay not to be.”

Reo stares at the phone. He’s not used to feeling lost in conversation, and he’s not especially enjoying the experience. The itching under his skin grows stronger.

“We’ve all been worried,” Chigiri continues when Reo doesn’t respond. “I mean, you just—up and disappeared, out of the blue, and that’s fine, but god, if you could just tell someone about it next time—you missed the funeral and everything, it was a bit—”

“The what?”

“The funeral—and you didn’t have to show up, but—if you could have just told someone that you weren’t going to show—”

“Funeral,” Reo repeats with a weak laugh. “What—whose funeral are we talking about, again?”

On the other end of the line, Chigiri goes quiet. He stays quiet for a long, long time.

“Chigiri,” Reo says quietly. “Whose funeral.”

“...you don’t know?”

Reo sets his jaw. “Does it sound like I know?”

“Reo…”

“Will you fucking spit it out, already,” Reo snaps.

“Nagi,” Chigiri blurts out, and Reo’s skin turns to ice. “It’s—it was Nagi’s funeral.”

Reo can’t hear much over the blood rushing through his ears. He thinks Chigiri might still be talking, but he can’t seem to hear anything. He can’t seem to do anything but stare at his phone. He can’t seem to do anything at all.

“—don’t remember?” he eventually hears Chigiri ask. “Reo? Are you still there?”

“No,” Reo finally says. “That’s not true.” He forces out a weak, bitter laugh. “That’s a terrible joke, Chigiri.”

“It… it’s not a joke, Reo—”

“Yeah, it is,” Reo says, another ugly laugh bubbling out of him. “Of course it is. I would fucking know if Nagi was—if he was—” Reo can’t say the word.

Chigiri’s not making any sense. This must be some sort of awful, awful prank. Reo can’t understand what would motivate Chigiri to carry it out in the first place, but it’s the only thing that makes logical sense. Because Nagi’s right here with him, just in the next room over—he’s always been with Reo, there hasn’t been a time that he’s been out of Reo’s sight, in fact, Nagi’s been just about the only human interaction Reo’s had in weeks—

In weeks.

Nagi is the only person Reo’s seen in weeks.

Reo is the only person who’s seen Nagi in weeks.

He wanted to leave the hospital. He wanted to stay in Reo’s home. He never wants to go outside. He doesn’t talk to anyone else. At that cafe, one straw—

Has anyone seen Nagi other than Reo recently?

“Nagi’s…” Reo starts hoarsely before he trails off. Chigiri’s silent for another moment.

“Nagi’s dead, Reo.”

Reo’s phone drops from his hand. Reo stares at his phone on the floor dumbly. He can still make out Chigiri’s voice faintly.

“Oh,” he says, before his legs crumple and he hits the floor.

He’s cognizant enough to hear his own shallow breaths, to feel the ache in his legs where they hit the floor, to watch the movement of his hand as it reaches for the phone again.

“Sorry,” he hears himself say. “I have to go.”

He ends the call. He sits, unmoving, for what could be seconds or minutes or days or years.

“...Reo?”

He looks up. Nagi’s watching him with furrowed eyebrows. Half of his hair is pushed to the side—he must have just rolled out of bed. It’s adorable. Reo thinks he might be sick.

“Reo?” Nagi asks again when Reo doesn’t respond. “Are you—”

“You’re dead.”

Nagi stills. “What?”

“You’re dead,” Reo says vacantly. “You’re dead, and I didn’t—” He brings a hand to clutch at his hair. “You’re dead, and I didn’t know, because I thought—” Reo lets out something halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I thought this was real.”

He wanted to leave the hospital. He wanted to stay in Reo’s home. He never wanted to go outside. He didn’t talk to anyone else. At that cafe, one straw—

He said he loved Reo.

And isn’t that the most unrealistic thing of all?

“I knew it,” Reo murmurs to himself. “I knew you would never—you can’t—you wouldn’t love me. I should have—” Reo brings a hand to his mouth. “I should have known. I should have—” A watery laugh. “I’ve been so fucking stupid.”

It felt too good to be true. It had always, always felt too good to be true, and Reo feels like the world’s biggest fool for ever considering that this was a reality he could ever have. What Reo wants is what Reo gets—what a stupid, childish fantasy.

Nagi never left the hospital. It’s been Reo and his selfish, fake inventions ever since.

“Reo.” Nagi’s voice is soft, but it takes everything in Reo not to flinch at the name. “That’s not… I do love you.”

Reo can hardly believe his own subconscious can be this cruel. His nails dig into the skin of his palm.

In a dream, nothing hurts. Then, what is Reo supposed to call this wretched thing eating him from the inside out? Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt?

“Reo,” Nagi murmurs, reaching out to Reo but hesitating before they touch. “I’m… I’m right here.”

"No," Reo finally sobs, the word tumbling out of him without control, "no, no, no, you don't get to fucking say that, you're—you're not real."

Nagi brings a hand to his chest. "I... feel real."

"But you're not."

Nagi lets his hand drop. “I don’t understand,” he admits quietly.

Reo lets out a strangled, watery laugh. “You don’t understand? You don’t understand?” He moves forward until he can cup Nagi’s face in his hands like he’s done so many times before. The skin is cold to the touch. Nagi’s skin has always been cold, and Reo’s always thought it was just a quirk, but now, he feels ice under his hands and has to swallow down another sob. He feels ice under his hands and thinks he might be turning to ice, too. “This isn’t real,” he tells Nagi. “None of this is real. It never was. You’re dead, and I’m…” He trails off and lets his hands drop. “I’m…”

“Reo…?”

“I’m pathetic.”

“No—” Nagi grabs Reo’s hands. They’re cold, so cold. How did Reo not notice before? “Reo, you’re not—”

“Please,” Reo interrupts, although what he’s pleading for, he’s not entirely sure. “Please. Stop. I can’t—” His voice breaks on another sob. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t—” He lets out a shuddering exhale before grabbing the front of Nagi’s shirt. “I can’t lose you.”

But he already has.

It’s too much. This, all of this, is too much. He can’t hear anything but static, and he can hardly see in front of him with how cloudy his vision is, and this, out of everything, is what strikes the most fear in his stomach. He needs to be able to see, he needs to be able to see Nagi again, at least one more time, before—

He lets go of Nagi long enough to scrub viciously at his eyes before he clutches him again.

“I loved you,” he blurts out, and his vision remains clear just long enough to see the amalgamation of fear and confusion war on Nagi’s face before it clouds over again. “I loved you,” he says again desperately. “I need you to know that. I…” Reo closes his eyes. “I loved you,” he whispers around a sob, “and I’m sorry I—I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. But—I did. I loved you.”

“Reo.” A cold hand on his cheek. “I know.”

“I loved you,” is all Reo can think to say. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“...will you stay?”

“I… don’t think I can.”

Reo smiles weakly. He turns to place a kiss on Nagi’s palm. The skin is cold against his lips.

“...I know.”

The first thing Reo says when he wakes up is Nagi’s name.