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He was a grown man now. Even so, he felt pathetic: five years in love with the same boy, content to be just a friend.
It was kind of pathetic. Too pathetic. And, back then, his imagination ran wild.
He felt the sharp shove his roommate gave him on the shoulder. There they were, the two of them, watching the game on TV next to a scoundrel who, paradoxically, was a good person: Matsumura Kousei.
Even they didn't know how they'd ended up sharing the same room. Rather, they'd met at just the right time. Or to be more precise, Nakamura had left home as soon as he turned eighteen. Kana, his sister, was a pain, but he loved her dearly.
When Nakamura went looking for an apartment to rent, he bumped into Kousei. The latter ended up helping him, fed up with seeing the salesman ignore Nakamura, who was trying to speak with visible and frustrating effort.
"Live with me!" That proposal came simply from Kousei's lips. His gaze was casual, free of ulterior motives. "Do it while you save up and buy something better!"
So it was only a temporary arrangement. They both hoped so.
Nakamura had always been closer to Hirose; in fact, it seemed like Kousei hardly ever spoke to him. That should have felt like a victory, but at this point it was already pathetic. They would only be friends.
"Oku, you know..." Matsumura stopped and pressed his lips together.
That brat wouldn't even deign to turn and look at him. Losing patience, Kousei pinched his cheeks with his fingers, forcing him to look at him. Nakamura puffed out his cheeks and glared at him, as if that would scare him. It had the opposite effect: he looked damn cute.
When Matsumura got obsessed with something, he never took his eyes off it; he wouldn't let it go either. It was strange; these feelings were nothing like what he'd once thought he felt for Hirose.
Nakamura tried to pull away, but Matsumura blocked his path. In the blink of an eye, Nakamura's body slammed into the back of the sofa. Kousei had sprung up from the floor with agility, pulling him down onto the cushions with unexpected force. All that filled Nakamura's vision was Matsumura's face, dangerously close.
"Haven't you forgotten yet?!"
Nakamura gasped, unable to reply. Matsumura buried his face in the crook of his neck. Nakamura's skin prickled all over when he felt Kousei's teeth bite into his flesh with a dull, hungry pressure, before he was enveloped in a suffocating embrace.
*Where the hell are you putting your hand?*, Nakamura wanted to shout, but his voice caught in his throat. Those direct, rough caresses felt so damn good that he could only press his lips together, giving that idiot a few weak, clumsy blows on the back.
"Neither you nor I are Hirose!"
Matsumura had also been in love with Hirose in the past. But Nakamura knew he couldn't compare to him; neither he nor Matsumura ever could.
This time, Nakamura had truly made him angry.
"Then stop thinking about Hirose once and for all!" Kousei roared. A vein bulged on his forehead, shattering the usual serenity of his face.
He pulled away slowly, but before Nakamura could breathe, Kousei jammed his thumb into the corner of his lips, pressing down to force his mouth open. Matsumura thrust his tongue in without asking, deep and wet, sucking and tasting the cavity with a rawness that made Nakamura's stomach churn with pure excitement. Nakamura's heart pounded a mile a minute; his chest rose and fell with anxiety. How many times had he daydreamed about this damned moment? He thought that invisible wall was something neither of them would ever dare to break.
"Call me by my name!" Matsumura blurted out suddenly, their breaths mingling.
A heat rose to Nakamura's forehead, turning his ears bright red. He stammered, his lower lip glistening with saliva:
"Kousei...?
" Kousei's eyes lit up. That look betrayed a man madly obsessed; it was ridiculously easy to read.
He began kissing his cheeks again and again with a mixture of brutish possessiveness and clumsy tenderness. He didn't want to overwhelm him. Nakamura had always been terrified that this guy would end up with Hirose. How the hell had things ended up like this?
Even with the confusion swirling in his head, a genuine smile appeared on his own lips. He would regret it later, or maybe not.
"I love you, idiot. What are you waiting for?"
A mischievous, wolfish grin spread across Kousei's face. Nakamura had to blink a few times, almost swearing he could see dog ears waving excitedly above Matsumura's head.
Was he that excited? Nakamura wanted to tease him, but the lump in his throat wouldn't allow it.
Even so, he didn't dare close his eyes. He wanted to memorize the scene.
"I love you!" Kousei insisted, pressing his forehead against his.
"I know..."
"It was inevitable that we'd fall in love!"
Matsumura had realized it first. Even so, he had the patience of a saint not to scare Nakamura off prematurely. It was warm having him in the house; it was the only place and the only person with whom Okuto felt truly comfortable, without any pretense.
Kousei took Nakamura's hand with a gentle firmness, pulling him up from the sofa and dragging him toward the bedroom. They didn't stop kissing the whole way, bumping awkwardly against the hallway wall. Their mouths sought each other desperately, mingling the taste of their saliva in a wet and noisy friction.
Both were complete novices. This was, technically, their first real kiss. A fortunate twist of fate: Nakamura, who at that time considered Matsumura his most hated rival, now shared with him the first time of absolutely everything.