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It starts out slow, a rhythm like the steady roll of his drumsticks against a worn tabletop, faint but melodious, keeping pace with the rhythm of his heartbeat. It's a beat that grows louder and louder with every step he takes toward that blue-haired stranger, emotion bouncing pinballs inside his ribcage, so very overwhelming and so, so obvious, it's a wonder the other boy doesn't call him out on it.
But the familiar stranger merely watches from above, settled lazily upon one of several, nearly rusted rooftops, both legs dangled over the edge and wind throwing strands of his dark hair toward a similarly darkened sky. Doesn't do more than return Tomoro's gaze with a slight curl of his lips, a smile that might've been considered condescending from where he's sitting, looking down on him, if it weren't for the tell-tale gleam of excitement in his lidded eyes, a perfect mirror of their shared enthusiasm.
And with equally bright eyes, a loose grin on his own face, and this intense feeling that betrays every bit of emotion blooming inside him, Tomoro calls out to Raito, "Took ya long enough!"
He watches Raito's grin widen that bit more. Another perfect mirror. "Shut up, you idiot. At least I'm here, aren't I?"
Tonight is their tenth 'chance encounter,' not that it's truly coincidental (especially when it comes to Raito and his stalkerish tendencies) and not that Tomoro's been counting or anything. Counting each and every second that's gone by since Raito had decided to part ways with Team 7 and pave a path on his own, leaving them all without a word or a method to reconnect with him.
The endless weeks since he's last seen that upturned, arrogant face, the brightness in those faintly mocking eyes and that wide, not-so-malicious smile spreading across a pair of soft-seeming lips. A gaze filled with enough fervor to match his own, jarring his insides with a rush of adrenaline as breathless as it is startling.
It had started out slow, insensible and faint like a misplayed note, like a beat jiving to a tune of its own, one he's never heard before. Growing more and more persistent as it reverberates achingly, nearly painfully, inside his chest. Making him think nonstop about equally insensible things -- about everything involving one Raito Souda. Even if he vehemently denies it, refuses to accept something as crazy as that.
Because of course he hasn't been thinking nonstop of ways to make Raito stay just a little longer.
Maybe invite him out on a not-date to Hotaruko's restaurant for some okonomiyaki; or maybe take him on a totally platonic outing to the newest music venue downtown; or maybe gather him and his ex '7 crew so they could all do some joint bounties together with Glowing Dawn, like the good old times, except now neither of them are senselessly fighting each other.
Or maybe, maybe, he could somehow convince Raito to stop being so damn stubborn and finally join Glowing Dawn once and for all.
One day, Tomoro thinks with a mental head-nod, as he clambers up the side of a building that looks suspiciously like the outside wall of his bedroom, I'll make it happen.
One day...
...Which doesn't seem like it'll be tonight, with the way Raito throws him a pointed glare the moment he reaches the rooftop, plops down haphazardly beside him, and opens his mouth to speak.
"Whatever you're gonna say, the answer is no." The words are uttered in a flat tone, a hint of rue within a statement requiring no question.
And if it weren't for the breeze blowing hair into Raito's face so chaotically that Tomoro can't discern the expression he's making right then and there, and if it weren't for the fact that he had accidentally pressed his thigh much too close to Raito's own spread thigh when he'd dropped down beside him, Tomoro would've immediately protested those words.
Instead, he finds himself distracted, too busy admiring the way moonlight glints off strands of tousled blue, sapphire nearly iridescent against silver, fluttering on the wings of a cool, continuous breeze. Fluttering softly like Raito's dark lashes, soft like how Raito's lips must feel, tilted in his familiar, crooked smile; like the subtle tilt of his head, and the long arc of his nose, and the intensity in his bright, amber eyes as they turn their full attention over to Tomoro.
And Tomoro just stares. Consumed by waves of thick, coiling heat, tight within the depths of his stomach and rising upward as consecutive beats of a heart turned discordant from noise, thump-thump-thump again and again in the space where they meet, where their legs touch, where he feels the warmth of Raito's body next to his, not withdrawing despite the barely breathable inches between them.
Even then, even with how hot he feels and how hot Raito feels against him, he can't help but notice the way the older boy shivers, drawing his outer jacket closer to him. It makes Tomoro want to draw closer to him too, wrap him up with his all and everything, and erase the weary look on his face, the previous hint of rue in his voice. Put some meat on his bones (he's become noticeably thinner since Tactics' disbandment), shake loose the phantoms dancing shadows beneath his eyes. They don't have a place here. Not anymore, now that Raito's free, and his place is right here, right beside Tomoro.
Somehow, Tomoro just has to convince him of that.
"If you're so cold, why don't you come inside?"
"Come inside?" Raito stares at him like he's grown three heads. "Why should I? I'm not planning to stay that long."
Why not? Tomoro wants to rip his hair out, tries not to let it show on his face (control your emotions, dammit) or reach out to shake some much needed sense into his infuriating rival/pseudo-friend/someone...more? He plays it off easy and forces a smirk. "Why not? You've already stalked me all the way to Glowing Dawn, we're practically a foot from my bedroom window. You're obviously freezing to death out here and it's warm inside my room, so why not? Just come in for a bit."
Just agree, he pleads, just say yes.
Because this is their tenth 'chance encounter' in the last three months, in the last three months since Tactics disbanded and Raito had left his former team members and Tomoro with only a backwards wave in farewell and absolutely no method of staying in contact with him. Besides these spontaneous late night visits at various spots of Raito's choosing, Tomoro had had no other way of seeing him, talking to him, being with him.
(And the last time he'd asked for his number so he could at least keep contact via messaging, Raito had basically implied he was too broke to manage the charges and had disconnected his line weeks ago. Yet another thing that had worried Tomoro immensely. Was this stubborn guy getting enough bounties on his own to feed himself properly, to even pay his bills properly?)
Which brings them back to the present issue -- one with a solution so simple and so obvious, Tomoro has to wonder why a genius like Raito keeps refuting it.
Just stay here, at Glowing Dawn. With us. With me.
"Nah," Raito denies him. Grins at him, his next words mischievous, doing things to Tomoro's heart that shouldn't be allowed, has him fuming at the audacity of it all and flushing, all the same. "But why are you inviting me back to your room anyway, Tomoro Tenma? Don'tcha know ya gotta treat a guy out to dinner first before jumping the gun like that? Idiot."
The way he looks at Tomoro as he says the word 'idiot' is too fond to be an insult. Eyes full of challenge, this flickering flare of a rekindled fire, muted but still bright. It's the warmest shade of amber Tomoro has ever seen -- an ember of emotion so carefully, painfully hidden behind the other's usual facade of arrogance. So very obvious that even someone like Tomoro can see it.
Funny, how Raito goes on and on about his lack of control of his emotions, when emotions are the only reason why the world moves forward. Why he moves forward. Why his feet propel themselves toward another day, one tomorrow after another. Why he still breathes despite how tight his lungs feel at times. Why his heart still beats despite how unbearable things can become sometimes.
A beat which had started out slow, simple and soft; but one that now pulses to a tune of its own -- this strange, frenetic rhythm without sense, a sound echoing over the course of these three long, short months spent together with a boy who doesn't even realize how loudly his own heart beats alongside Tomoro's.
A perfect mirror, right down to the rapid rise of red on his cheeks, when Tomoro suddenly closes the distance separating them.
He leans in, pressing cold, trembling lips to Raito's. Eases him open, letting every emotion flood him warm and full, full of feeling, everything he's unable to say but hopes, just hopes Raito can hear and understand.
He closes his eyes when he feels Raito respond, his mouth as tremulous and soft as Tomoro had expected. Feels the scorching heat of his body as Raito sways that bit more toward him, as if seeking more warmth, more feeling, those worryingly bony fingers clumsy in their search for his equally flushed cheeks.
It doesn't last long, these breathless seconds suspended by pure sensation. It ends as expected, in the only way it could between the two of them -- with a slap right across his face and a pair of wide, confused eyes glaring back at him.
Tomoro blinks his own dazed-out, half-lidded eyes.
"W-what the hell?!" Raito hisses, pretending indignation despite how he hasn't moved farther away from Tomoro. Despite how he hasn't removed his thigh that's still pressed tightly against Tomoro's.
Despite how he still lingers on Tomoro's pulsating-hot face, unconsciously caressing the spot where he'd struck him, a touch so gentle it had to be an apology in its own way. "What..." Raito mutters, sounding more contemplative now. He brushes a finger lightly over Tomoro's bottom lip, his eyes lowered and his features a bright, explosive flare of color. "...Was that?"
"Payback," Tomoro responds without thinking. Then thinks, oh yeah, he can totally blame that for being the reason why.
(Even if the real reason is because of his stupidly racing heart, this overwhelming, exhilarating beat that thrums way too fast for him to handle. He can hardly catch his breath, not when Raito's sitting in front of him like that, his hair disheveled and his half-opened lips wet from their kiss, with the strangest, most vulnerable expression on his face.
Open emotion Tomoro rarely ever gets to see, appearing so, so beautiful, so right on him.)
"The hell are you talking about?!"
"Remember when you slapped me that one time during the fight against Proganomon?" Tomoro can't resist smirking. "Well, this is my payback!"
"...Are you kidding me right now?"
"You can slap me whenever you want, but I can't kiss you whenever I want?"
He might've found the exasperated look on Raito's face absolutely hilarious, if it weren't for the smidgen of desperation in his words. He's teasing, sure, but a part of him also means it. Wants Raito to understand. Wants him to want like he does.
And maybe it's because of this - this, and the realization of what the actual fuck he'd just done hitting him harder than Raito's slap had - but Tomoro finally feels his nerves catch up to him. Sees the same realization dawn on the other boy, replacing his previous exasperation with something else -- right before he musters the courage to push forward anyway, encouraged by the fact that Raito hasn't left yet; he's still here, his long, bony fingers are still touching Tomoro, still tracing light imprints onto his cheek and filling his body with a heady rush of warmth (and that has to mean something, right?).
"So, um, since you, uh, just slapped me again," Tomoro offers Raito a helpless smile and a shrug, trying to act nonchalant as if he hadn't just stolen their first kiss from him without his permission, "Can I have... a second one?"
The moment the words leave his mouth, he tries not to flinch. Shuts his eyes tight and tenses in preparation for the inevitable second slap of the night. Mentally steels himself for the ensuing screech of "How can someone be a bigger idiot than you, idiot Tomoro?!" and a flurry of movement as Raito rushes to escape as quickly as possible, leaving only the lingering memory of his warmth against Tomoro's skin.
When he feels those slender fingers slide lower, moving to grasp the edges of his shirt collar and yank him forward, he tries to taper down his disappointment. Clenches his fists by his sides, forces the bitterness away, and fully braces himself for it...
...A pair of warm, soft lips touching his. Short puffs of breath swirling heat dizzily between them. Dragging slow and almost possessive along the curve of his mouth, incisors ever so slightly grazing his bottom lip, parting flesh and drawing him close. Closer.
Wait, what?
Heart practically bursting out his chest, Tomoro snaps his eyes open.
And Raito nearly falls off the rooftop with how violently he jerks back from him.
Dark blue hair splayed every which way, evidence splattered crimson all over his face, his hazy eyes now wide with panic and his bruised-tender mouth still agape and glistening beautifully under the telling light of the moon. Bandana lopsided like the way Tomoro's insides feel, like the chaos reverberating inside him, this one-two beat of emotion that follows the rhythm of another loudly thrumming heartbeat. So close beside him. So close, if only he could reach out and bring him back.
One day.
Closing the distance separating them, Tomoro lunges forward and grabs Raito by his wrist, before he can truly escape. Grips him tight and intertwines their hands.
Just one day.
"Raito," he murmurs, and a minute tremor runs through the other boy's body. It has nothing to do with the breeze, he's sure, and everything to do with the feeling he sees clearly reflected back in Raito's eyes. Emotion to perfectly mirror his own.
Stay.
There's no resistance when he bumps their foreheads together, strands of orange and blue clashing like the most natural thing in the world. Not even when he utters his next words in a tone too serious to be taken lightly, despite the absurd nature of his sudden declaration.
"If you stay," Tomoro whispers, determination set in every line of his solemn expression, "I promise to take you out to dinner before we... 'jump the gun.'" He tries not to falter, tacking on the deal clincher. "I-I'll even pay for everything! Whatever you want to eat! Anything you want to do!"
And it's worth the humiliation painting his features a deep, unflattering pink - the heavy, thudding pulse of his heart, too fast, too unsteady, too much - when he hears Raito burst out into laughter.
With his hair whipping wild in the wind, head tilted toward Tomoro in that achingly familiar way of his, eyes so bright and smile so wide, staring at Tomoro as if there's nowhere else he'd rather be than here, beside him, beneath a starless night sky where the moon shines so beautifully above them. Beautiful, carefree, light and melodious, this beat that echoes soundly between them. In the space where Raito holds him back, squeezing his hand tightly.
"Everything? Anything?" It's a whisper, soft and teasing and filled with something akin to... affection. "You promise?"
Tomoro smiles, fingers clammy and hot around an equally hot, warm hand. Warm like the color of Raito's cheeks, like the embarrassed, helpless look on his face when Tomoro leans in and closes the distance separating them, once again. "I promise."