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It was a rare peaceful and free evening off for Tsurugi Kinjo, and surprisingly, he was spending it in a pizza parlor, of all places. Perhaps even more surprising was the fact that he was actually enjoying himself. Naturally, that was mostly because of the person currently sharing a booth with him.
Beside him, Yuki Maeda was lifting the mushrooms from his pizza slices one by one and placing them in a row along his plate. Tsurugi followed each of them with his eyes. The expression on his face could have been one of concern, judgement, disappointment, or some combination, but it was hard to say. Either way, once Yuki noticed the stern gaze on him, he just started moving the mushrooms over to Tsurugi's plate instead. With a sigh, Tsurugi let whatever lecture he'd been about to start die in his throat. It was hard to focus on anything else but their conversation, and the mushrooms being migrated over one by one. After a bit, he simply stopped giving it much thought, not even batting an eye when Yuki started carefully arranging them atop Tsurugi's slices directly. He watched via the corner of his eye as each of them were distributed equally and carefully without too much layering or empty space.
After a bit, he just kept eating his pizza, not paying much mind as Yuki continued to move his fork back and forth. The man next to him just gave a wry little smile, and kept messing around with their food. For whatever reason, at that moment, Kinjo's guard began to lower, and he stopped thinking about what he was doing or his constant vigilance. There was a warm shoulder against his, and the savory smell of pizza sauce and pepperoni seemed more enjoyable than junk food usually was. Tsurugi’s shoulders began to relax. He eased into it so much he didn't even process it when Yuki lifted a mushroom up towards Tsurugi's face and he just took it without question, only realizing what he'd just done a heartbeat later. There was a fork in his mouth, and Yuki was holding it, and Yuki had just fed him food like he was a child and he hadn't even hesitated-
Then there was that mischievous smile of his. It was an expression that didn't appear too often, but was hard to ignore when it did. Tsurugi was caught between irritation, embarrassment, and the strange spell that little smile and glitter in Yuki’s brown eyes always seemed to cast. He was pretty sure he felt curious blue eyes on him from the booth Maki and Uehara happened to be sitting in across the room. (Apparently, this wasn't as unknown of a spot as he'd imagined.)
“Maeda…” he intoned as his partner twisted his wrist so that the fork waved gently back and forth near his face. Tsurugi set his own fork down, leaving the last few neatly cut pieces of his mushroom-laden pizza uneaten on the plate.
“What?” Yuki asked innocently, showing no signs of remorse whatsoever.
“You can't just-” someone giggled behind them, and Tsurugi’s eartips warmed unpleasantly. Yuki’s lips closed innocently around a fallen pepperoni slice he'd pierced with his fork and stolen away. “That’s cross-contamination,” he pointed out.
“Kinjo, that's a pretty silly thing to worry about when we just-” Yuki’s smile grew, making it all the more clear he knew exactly what he was doing, but it shifted immediately at the warning glare cast on him. Yuki’s smile faded, and he stared at his fingers as he neatly unfolded and refolded a napkin several times. The painfully visible teasing stopped, and Tsurugi should have been relieved. Instead, there was a confusing tangle of indignation, worry, and guilt coiling around his chest.
They sat in near silence until the check came. When Uehara passed by at a distance, Tsurugi wondered if there was pity in his solemn blue eyes. Thankfully, Maki wasn't focused on them at all anymore. She, unlike Uehara, was certainly the type to gossip.
As usual, he got off the subway at the same stop in order to walk Yuki back to his apartment. Once there, the ginger paused in the entrance, leaving the door open behind him. Tsurugi took it as the invitation it was and followed him in, letting the door fall closed behind him with a soft thunk and gentle ring as the little hanging bell and windchime swung about at the motion.
“I’m sorry,” Yuki’s arms were crossed, and he hadn't taken his shoes off yet. Instead, he just hovered near the door, blocking the way inside like a rather gloomy-looking ‘do not enter’ sign. Tsurugi didn't say much in response, barely mustering more than a shrug and a quick glance. In response, Yuki tugged errantly at one sleeve, and stared somewhat silently into the red rug below. Tsurugi watched carefully. Sometimes, Yuki became unusually quiet and somewhat listless for a time before mysteriously returning to normal. At first, he wondered if this was one of those times, but it quickly became clear hurt feelings were the cause here. “Are you… ashamed of me…?” Tsurugi froze under that pitiable gaze, immediately aware that he'd messed up somehow.
“What?” Tsurugi took a half step back. “No, of course not.” Unfortunately, Yuki did not look convinced. There was real hurt in his expression, and the closeness of his arms around himself.
“Then why does it always seem like you don't want to be seen with me…?” he paused, taking an unsteady breath.
“That's…” Tsurugi couldn't find the words because he couldn't quite deny it. Yuki made a little scoff under his breath, and looked away towards the floor. “Yuki…” he began, hoping those familiar brown eyes would look at him again, but Yuki just glared into the doormat. “I'm not…. ashamed,” Tsurugi grimaced, realizing how unconvincing he was sounding. Carefully, he placed a hand on Yuki's shoulder. “It's not …you, it has nothing to do with you.” How could it? Yuki was wonderful in every way that mattered. Tsurugi loved his little smile, loved the way he always seems to notice Tsurugi was having a hard day even before Tsurugi did; he loved Yuki’s disastrous bedhead, loved the hugs he gave without Tsurugi needing to ask, and he loved knowing that no matter what, there was someone on his side, someone who cared about him.
Maybe he hadn't made sure Yuki felt the same.
“It’s… me, not you,” he tried, clumsily. “Yuki, you're… you're the best thing that ever happened to me. I am not ashamed of you.” The words were direct and blunt, with no room for doubt. At last, Yuki’s gaze returned to him.
“...Really?” Yuki still seemed uncertain. Tsurugi sighed inwardly, realizing much too belatedly that there were things he shouldn't have kept to himself. He gave Yuki’s shoulder a tight squeeze.
“Remember last week, when I had a few bad nights?” That was a rather subdued description, as he'd had night terrors three nights in a row. “Wednesday morning, I… I struggled to get started. It was thinking about you, and knowing you'd be there waiting, and that I'd get to see you, that got me moving.” It was true. He'd thought about the way Yuki held his hand, or stayed closer when it seemed Tsurugi needed it, even if he hadn't been able to voice it aloud. He'd remembered the look Yuki always gave him when they met up again; the warmth in his eyes that said I'm really glad you're here, and I would miss you if you weren't here.
That day, they hadn't even really had a conversation about it. Tsurugi hadn't been able to muster one. But Yuki had seen the look on his face, and held his hand, squeezing it tight, and running his thumb back and forth against Tsurugi’s in a reassuring pattern as their shoulders pressed together.
“Kinjo…” Yuki murmured, gaze softening. He slowly went to grab Tsurugi's hand.
“I… apologize, Maeda…” Tsurugi said awkwardly. “I did not intend to make you feel that way.”
“It's okay,” Yuki replied. Tsurugi often wondered if he forgave too easily. “But I still don't understand why you seem so…” His brow furrowed in concentration, but he gave Tsurugi's hand a squeeze. The more time went on, the better Yuki seemed to get at knowing what to do. Over the time they'd known each other, he'd watched Yuki puzzle him out, gathering information piece by piece, until he started realizing things about him not even Tsurugi seemed to know sometimes. Maybe this was another one of those times. “Um… if this is totally wrong, I'm sorry, but are you… scared of it…?" Yuki asked, tentatively. Tsurugi tensed up immediately, and nearly glared over at his partner before catching himself. He couldn't deny it, and his silence was confirmation enough. Yuki just kindly held his hand, and gave him a gentle, It's okay, look yet again that Tsurugi knew he did not deserve. “Why is that…? If you're not ready for us to be…public yet, that's… that's okay, but I don't understand why it bothers you…” Tsurugi couldn't tell how ‘okay’ with it Yuki really was or wasn't, and felt guilty regardless.
“I… I don't know, exactly.” Tsurugi admitted hesitantly. Was it the idea of their friends knowing? Admittedly, he did dread what kind of nonsense Kisaragi might pull, but those sorts of things didn't cause him fear. It wasn't that he didn't want people to know where his preferences lay, was it? Admittedly, he was still wary of that, of people knowing, but he was far from alone on that front amongst their friends, and that helped immensely. But then, something came to him, sharp and clear. Every time Yuki had offered to meet him after work, he'd made sure they never convened at Sakurada Gate, or near whatever station he'd been assigned to. Whenever he got a call from Yuki during a break at work, he'd only take it in places he knew he'd be alone, like rooftops where no one else would hear.
It had been systematic, and almost automatic. Over the last year, he'd kept any overlap between his friends, and his coworkers, to an absolute minimum. Why was that? The image of harsh, crimson eyes settling upon Yuki answered this immediately. It was hard to predict the Chief of Police’s possible reactions to Yuki’s existence and role in Tsurugi's life, but even if he couldn't describe why, Tsurugi dreaded it all the same. He didn't want to see Yuki get observed or categorized, and didn't want to watch that usual combination of a charismatic, cool smile and calculating, wary eyes land on Yuki for the first time.
The two had always seemed… incompatible, somehow, but he thought there was more to it than that. Over the years, the gap between the Tsurugi of Class 79, and Senior Officer Kinjo had grown wider and wider. All this time, he'd almost instinctively kept a protective barrier between both halves of his life, as though cross contamination might infect and ruin them both. Or perhaps, it was more truthful to admit there was only one half he feared might be destroyed by the other. Tsurugi's shoulders slumped a little, and his gaze sank to the ground. Logically, he knew this strategy was ill-advised and far from a permanent solution, and yet… Tsurugi sighed, well aware of the combination of relief and concern on Yuki’s face as he slipped into a more vulnerable place.
“It's alright,” Yuki held both of Tsurugi’s hands in his, and looked at him with so much love and understanding Tsurugi hardly knew what to do with it all. “If you're not ready to talk about it, that's okay, but I'm here.” At first, Tsurugi just nodded mutely, and started to turn away as if to end the conversation for now, but then, he just stood there without moving for several painfully long seconds. His partner leaned in closer during the pause, cautious but clearly hopeful he would speak. Tsurugi felt guilty for disappointing him, but being that open was no simple feat, especially when he'd only just begun to realize exactly what the issue buried at the core of all this was.
I don't want my father to know about us… I don't want him to know about Yuki.
Tsurugi closed his eyes for a moment, and leaned against the wall. As if noticing the need for support, Yuki came closer, tugging Tsurugi's arm into his grasp. When Tsurugi moved closer, he came in for a hug. With a sigh, Tsurugi leaned into it stiffly, tucking his head over Yuki's warm shoulder.
Why did it feel like such a threat? The mere idea of it placed him back into a familiar and tense vigilance. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing, of course there wasn't, and beyond that, what reason did he have to fear? Why was even the idea of them being in the same room so... wrong? Maybe, he was afraid of what his Father might think, or maybe, he feared the merging of both sides. If it did happen, he wasn't sure which version of himself would win out, but he suspected the one standing here, holding on to Yuki, would not be the victor.
There was a curious, thoughtful glint in Yuki's eyes now. Tsurugi imagined he was doing his best to puzzle things out. The man could be very perceptive and clever when he needed to be.
“Is it… related to work…? Or maybe… your dad?” It was another perfect guess. Tsurugi just sighed, before sinking against the wall to the floor with a defeated nod. Yuki soon joined him, sitting on his knees beside him. In contrast, the police officer sat with his back to the wall and his feet planted firmly on the floor for stability. “What is it that you're sc- concerned, about happening?” Tsurugi just stared at him. He wasn't scared, of course. What did he have to fear? Regression? His father's disapproval? Maeda retreating from him after seeing more of his work, or meeting Juu? It was just…ridiculous. Beside him, brown eyes studied the hands closing into fists atop his knees. “Hey, Tsurugi…?”
“Hmm?” Tsurugi looked up to meet his gaze.
“I'm not gonna be scared off by something now, you know…” Yuki gave Tsurugi a more patient smile than he deserved, before his expression became more somber. “I mean, you… you want me around, right…?”
“I do.” Tsurugi answered immediately and with conviction.
“Okay.” Yuki’s smile returned, soft and relieved, before the man started snuggling up to Tsurugi's stiff shoulder. Soft waves of calm and reassurance threatened to overturn Tsurugi’s vigilance, but eventually, he let them. “Your father is…” Yuki trailed off, and Tsurugi didn't blame him. He could hear a dozen different things left unsaid in that sentence, and let it be. “Look, I just… just so you know, you don't have to worry about me, okay?”
“...Maeda?” Tsurugi tried and failed to decipher that statement, or the strange, almost unhappy certainty behind it.
“N-Nevermind,” Yuki continued, clearly flustered. “I'll be fine. That's all I'm saying… it's… hard to explain, but I'm not scared, or anything, so you don't have to be either.” Half-amused, and half-perplexed, Tsurugi could only lift an eyebrow at him, and shake his head. “Besides that,” he continued, quickly moving along, “I know you. My perception isn't gonna change just because you showed more of yourself, whether it's related to police stuff or not.” Tsurugi could only stare in slightly stunned silence for a bit after that. How was it so simple with Yuki? All at once he felt reassured, lucky, and undeserving. “...Did I say something wrong?” Yuki touched one side of his face, and Tsurugi quickly shook his head.
“No,” he smiled slightly. “It’s very much the opposite.” Yuki saw the smile, and gave him a shy nod. They sat together for a bit after that in comfortable silence, shoulders pressed together. Yuki fidgeted with his sleeve, slowly leaning more and more into Tsurugi's side, until eventually, a pressing thought broke the silence. “Maeda,” Tsurugi began quietly. “You know it's the same for me, right? My perception of you won't change by knowing you better.” He knew there were still things Yuki kept to himself, or seemed afraid to share. He didn't know why, but it seemed unjust that he was still saddled with secrets when Tsurugi had already shed so many old stories.
“I… I know.” But Yuki turned away, sitting up away from his shoulder, and Tsurugi's heart sank a little. “I know, I just…” he trailed off into uncertain silence with a strangely hollow look on his face. The apartment’s quiet, dimly lit atmosphere suddenly seemed a bit less reassuring than before. Tsurugi frowned, unable to find the right words, if there were any. Instead, he tentatively reached an arm around Yuki’s shoulders, and slowly dragged him closer. It was awkward; Tsurugi wasn't usually the one to initiate this sort of thing, but Yuki quickly took over, grabbing him with both arms, and giving him such a tight hug Tsurugi lost some of his breath in the process. The warm, heavy sensation of trust and safety against his chest made it more than worth it, though.
“M… Yuki,” Kinjo tried again, not for the first time. “I love you. If I haven't been showing that enough, I apologize. It's just… still new to me, I suppose.”
“You don't have to apologize,” was what Yuki said, but Tsurugi felt the little sigh of relief against his neck. “I know it's not easy.” They stayed like that for a bit longer, but eventually, Yuki chose for the moment to end. “Hey, Tsurugi?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to watch another episode?” Just like that, things were casual again. Tsurugi nodded with an amused smile, and followed Yuki over to the couch to continue their foray into some mystery anime Yuki had introduced him to. Tsurugi would never have tried it otherwise, but since it has become their thing, he'd done his best to memorize every character, and avoid unravelling any cases before Yuki started putting the pieces together. They'd often made a little game of that, Yuki speculating while Tsurugi quietly encouraged him on. The part Tsurugi liked the best though, was just having Yuki snuggled up to him under a shared blanket. It was still foreign to him, and so different from any home he'd known before, but that was probably why it meant so much. In general, that was probably why Yuki’s apartment felt more like home to him than his own, and why after Yuki drifted to sleep against his shoulders, Tsurugi simply stayed there, letting the rest of his night off pass in peace.
A few days later, when the two of the next met with friends, Tsurugi steeled his resolve, and grabbed a surprised Yuki’s hand. For the rest of the afternoon, he held on tight, and tried to ignore the knowing, amused gazes of Kisaragi & Kurokawa that kept drifting over.
Maybe he wasn't ready for some things yet, and maybe Yuki wasn't either, but this was what Tsurugi wanted, and he wasn't about to let Yuki believe otherwise ever again. As he held Yuki’s hand, some level of reassurance seemed to spread over, and from the occasional squeezes Yuki gave his palm, Tsurugi knew he felt the same.