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Hirose had known since September. It wasn’t hard to notice, not when Nakamura had the subtlety of a goldfish. And, to be truthful, it was endearing to Hirose, even though he hadn’t exactly acknowledged his feelings until January.
Hirose knew himself. He knew how he felt with his ex-girlfriend, Hana, who was a nice girl and very respectful, and how he felt with his friend Nakamura. There was a stark difference.
So when Hirose laid in his bed one night after a particular fun day where he and Nakamura had snuck onto the roof to eat their food and found a seagull, which Nakamura had been so fascinated about that he stared at it the whole time with a cute astonished look on his face, he thought:
Oh, crap.
He had a crush on his friend. His best friend.
And he knew that Nakamura liked him back.
Normally he would have jumped for joy. Screamed to everyone that he had a crush on the most wonderful, shy, caring boy ever, and he liked him back.
But it wasn’t that simple.
Again, Hirose knew himself. And he knew that there was no way Hirose would confess to Nakamura.
Not when Hirose had witnessed Nakamura work up the courage to even talk to him, and had backed down easily.
Hirose knew Nakamura well enough to know that when Nakamura got out of his own head, he was a confident, witty guy.
And Hirose found that extremely attractive.
So no, Hirose refused to confess to his crush. After Hana, Hirose had found that he liked being the one taken care of more than the one taking care of someone else.
And he knew Nakamura would take care of him.
No, he had not fantasized about it. They were just thoughts that took enough form that he could imagine them. He wasn’t obsessed.
Nakamura would be kind, and caring. Over the months of the school year, Nakamura had grown more comfortable with Hirose, which was a big win, in both of their books. Nakamura laughed without apologizing, joked without freezing like he had just committed a crime, and even, sometimes, touched Hirose; moved his hair out of his face when he was concentrating on homework, caught an eyelash that had made its way to Hirose’s cheek, brushed his finger against Hirose’s ear where the cold caught them.
The worst part was that, most times, Nakamura didn’t notice he was doing it. And that made Hirose blush hard enough that he thought he had invented a new shade of red.
Nakamura was still awkward, but that awkwardness was more around other people than Hirose. He would still trip over his words when asked to answer a question, when he felt everyone’s eyes on him. He would still trip, literally, if someone caught him off guard. But when he wasn’t exactly paying attention…
He moved with an ease that Hirose hadn’t seen him practice. One time, Nakamura had been doodling and Sensei had asked him the answer to a maths problem, and he said the full answer and his process without flinching, his head down and concentrating on something totally different.
It had flustered Hirose so much that he’d messed up the next problem that Otogiri Sensei asked him. He was out of it for the rest of the day.
Hirose wanted to get to know the other Nakamura. He knew the shy, flustered Nakamura. The clumsy one that made Hirose smile stupidly and want to hold Nakamura’s face in his hands and tell him just how much he liked him, just to make him blush. The Nakamura that used every thought in his brain to walk in a straight line normally, and still look like a robot. The Nakamura that played cards with Hirose, just to be with him, even though he was horrible at it and hated the game.
He wanted to know the confident Nakamura, who hid and only came out when he was comfortable. The Nakamura that drew Hirose in the corners of his notebook without thinking about it, and turned the page to show Hirose himself and ask him if he captured the glint in his eye from the sun. The Nakamura that hummed songs from the 70s under his breath, tapping his fingers on his desk, as if he hadn’t just disrupted Hirose’s entire world by singing Mayonaka no Door like a lullaby. The Nakamura that Hirose wanted to cuddle and spend his sunsets walking with. The Nakamura that smiled the lazy smile that made Hirose want to bang his head against his desk.
So, lately, Hirose had been trying to push that confident Nakamura out.
And finally give Hirose a freaking kiss.
Or a confession, but Hirose liked to dream big. He knew Nakamura could do it.
It was after one particular dream where Nakamura hadn’t even thought about it and gave him a peck that Hirose cracked.
He started waking up earlier, hoping to meet Nakamura at the intersection and walk to school together. He had been spending extra time on his hair because Nakamura had once called it the “fluffiest thing ever” in a small voice. He had been asking Nakamura about homework questions that he already understood, just to hear Nakamura explain it and offer his thoughts.
It was crazy, but Hirose found that crazy was working.
When in doubt, go crazier.
Hirose had planned crazier. Crazier meant obvious, of course.
1.
“Nakamura,” Hirose said.
They were sitting in class during break time, working on an English worksheet that neither of them particularly understood. Mukai had already finished it, and Takeuchi got bored, so they went to play a game of soccer with some boys from the other classes. Hirose wasn’t complaining.
Nakamura had been different lately. The main cause was the warm weather. He had shed the outer gakuran and rolled up the sleeves of his white button up. He wore the red tie that was normally used as an extra accessory. His arms were covered with small doodles and patterns he had done with henna that he had bought. His hair was curling more with the humidity, so he brushed it to the side sometimes.
It was insane how Hirose had held back during the past few weeks.
The class was mostly empty, as high school students preferred to be anywhere but their own classroom during break. The other person Nakamura spent time around, Kawamura, was busy with the art club, so she and a few other members were in the back of the room, working on a banner for the upcoming art festival. Besides them, Nakamura, and Hirose, there were only a few students who also stayed for homework that were in the classroom.
Nakamura looked up from his work problem, his eyebrows knit from concentration. An ink blotch was on his hand from gripping his pen. Nakamura softened immediately upon meeting Hirose’s eyes. Nakamura’s eyes were like the night sky. Infinite and covered with tiny specks of gold from the sunlight.
And Nakamura looked at Hirose as if he was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. As if Hirose was so special that he had to take him in.
Hirose’s breath caught.
“Hmm?” Nakamura hummed, raising his eyebrow. His cheeks flushed faintly. They were both bent over Nakamura’s desk, which meant close.
Hirose took a deep breath in, then pushed it out.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” he tried for his best smile, which came out naturally when he was with Nakamura.
Nakamura nodded, smiling softly as well. “Yeah,” he looked to the open windows on the side of the classroom, the curtains blowing softly from the gentle breeze that didn’t quite reach where they were sitting. “Are you hot?” he asked.
You are, Hirose resisted the urge to say. He couldn’t believe how cheesy his thoughts got when it came to Nakamura. “A little. I forgot my water at home, so my throat is a little parched.” Hirose let out a sheepish chuckle. He had forgotten his water, but not by accident.
The things he does for love.
Nakamura frowned slightly. Hirose knew that Nakamura worried about him.
“You need to drink water, Hirose.” Nakamura told him. Hirose nodded along.
“I just overslept this morning and forgot to grab it.” Hirose rubbed his neck.
Nakamura looked down at his bag, then back at Hirose.
He hummed again. “I’d give you some of mine, but I just ran out.”
Darn it. Hirose gripped his hands under the table. All for nothing.
“No, that’s okay!” Hirose insisted, though he was lamenting the possibilities. Stupid hot day.
“Do you want me to buy you some water? I should probably buy some too.” Nakamura muttered, pulling out his wallet.
“Sure, thank you!” Hirose stood from his seat, letting Nakamura lead them out of the classroom.
Sitting on a bench next to Nakamura, drinking water and watching Nakamura wipe sweat from his forehead, Hirose thought that maybe it wasn’t all for nothing.
2.
They were in Nakamura’s room. Nakamura had invited him over, meaning that Hirose complained that his sister was bringing her friends over and had nowhere to go, so Nakamura offered his house. At least Nakamura could take a hint sometimes.
They had already changed clothing. Thankfully, Hirose had planned this in the morning and remembered to bring extra clothes. Unfortunately, Nakamura had offered him clothes, and put them away when he saw Hirose’s extras before Hirose could stuff them back in his bag. Hirose kicked himself for that.
Now they were on Nakamura’s bed, chilling and eating some fruit that Nakamura’s mother had left out. Nakamura had an old TV that he had found at a thrift store and fixed up. That alone gave Hirose so, so many ideas.
They were watching a romantic comedy movie that Hirose had picked at random, remembering the side romance between the two male best friends of the lead characters.
Nakamura stopped fidgeting once he got comfortable. He had practically squeaked when the two men introduced themselves as a couple. It was exactly the reaction Hirose had hoped for, because now that Nakamura was focused on the movie, Hirose could slip himself into the gap where Nakamura had his arm and where he was sitting.
And Nakamura noticed. It took a bit, because when Nakamura focused on something, he focused. The leads were acting all sappy, and Hirose himself had lost interest, so he definitely felt Nakamura’s head turn slightly, and felt Nakamura’s breath catch.
Yes, Hirose was cuddled up right next to Nakamura, with Nakamura’s arm so close to Hirose’s back that he was practically holding Hirose’s waist. Hirose didn’t think he could be more obvious.
Nakamura stared at him, and Hirose had to resist looking back. If he did, there would be little to no space between them, and Hirose didn’t trust himself to not shout in Nakamura’s face to kiss him. Hirose was exercising patience, but that didn’t mean he was good at it.
Sadly, Nakamura went back to the movie, but Hirose didn’t give up. Throughout the movie, he nudged Nakamura during the kissing scenes, pretending that he was moving. He laughed whenever the gay couple did something cute, and was really obvious when he looked up at Nakamura. Heck, he even rested one of his arms on Nakamura’s chest! What more could he do to give this guy some assurance?
The movie was long, and probably very painful for Nakamura, as Hirose didn’t relent for one second. He felt Nakamura’s attention drift from the movie to Hirose several times, which gave Hirose a deep satisfaction.
Near the end of the movie, Hirose was panicking slightly. Either Nakamura had noticed what Hirose was doing (which was doubtful), or he was just that annoying. Because, now, Nakamura was stroking Hirose’s waist, and giving Hirose heart palpitations that made him wonder if this was his last moment. He didn’t even know how it happened. One minute the male couple was being cute during the beach scene and playing volleyball, and the next Nakamura was holding his waist, running his thumb along the sewn line of Hirose’s shorts. It was infuriating. And hot. Hirose wanted to die. Preferably in Nakamura’s arms.
Nakamura turned to him when the movie ended, his room lights still off, the only light coming from Icchan’s tank. Hirose, fed up with whatever Nakamura was doing to him, met his gaze.
They were indeed close, only a few inches, four at most, separating their faces. Nakamura gazed down at him, his eyes lidded and tired from the long day. Hirose wanted to kiss them.
Nakamura looked like he wanted to kiss him.
Neither of them spoke, wanting to preserve the peaceful moment they were having.
Nakamura leaned in closer, and Hirose almost closed his eyes.
Then Nakamura booped their noses together for a few seconds; longer than he should have but shorter than what Hirose would have liked.
Hirose laughed, because he was so in love with this boy.
But then he wanted to cry.
Because he was so in love with this boy.
3.
Hirose was excited.
Sure, Nakamura had been insufferable to be around (for good reason), and he hadn’t gotten anywhere with his plan, but Hirose decided to be optimistic.
It was now March, which meant the school year was ending very soon. Their second year of high school was almost over, and Hirose was still single.
He breathed through his nose, and kept his positive attitude face on.
Because Nakamura was next to him. And the cherry blossoms had finally bloomed.
They were walking in the park next to their school, filled with these trees. Hirose thought he had inhaled at least three petals already. But he had a reason for his heavy breathing.
Because Nakamura was red in the face. While they were taking a walk after school through a park of cherry blossoms.
If Nakamura wasn’t going to confess today, Hirose would scream. Then kidnap Nakamura and make him confess. Then kiss him silly, because Nakamura would probably just apologize for being kidnapped.
Nakamura stopped near a bench in the middle of the park. No one was around.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just need to sit down for a moment.”
Nakamura sat down. Hirose sat down next to him, as close as he could without Nakamura hearing how his heartbeat had decided to enter F1.
Hirose decided to forsake that thought, because he laid his head on Nakamura’s shoulder, drawing a small gasp from the boy he was now leaning against.
“It’s pretty outside,” Hirose said, smiling. It really was, but Nakamura was prettier. And Hirose had overheard Nakamura say that Hirose was prettier too.
Nakamura nodded. He seemed to be in thought for a second, then he spoke. “I’m glad you came with me today.”
Hirose clenched his teeth slightly. It was happening. It had to be.
Nakamura shifted away from Hirose, letting him draw his head back and look in his eyes.
“Look, Hirose…” Nakamura started, but he looked like he forgot how to speak, because he reddened and looked away.
Dear Lord in heaven, Hirose thought. He had just realized that he was getting confessed to.
“Yes?” Hirose whispered in anticipation. Nakamura looked back at him.
“Um,” Nakamura tried again. “I…”
Hirose waited, even though he really, really wanted to throw his arms around Nakamura and kiss him. He wanted Nakamura to kiss him back.
Nakamura took a deep breath in.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Hirose’s heart nearly broke.
“What?” Hirose’s voice almost cracked.
“I’m so nervous right now. Give me a second.” Nakamura covered his mouth with his hand and breathed. Hirose wanted to punch the boy in front of him for giving him a heart attack.
Nakamura breathed loudly again, and straightened his back. Hirose straightened his again out of habit, though he also wanted to remain as close to Nakamura as possible.
“You don’t deserve this from me while I’m nervous, so I’ll try my best.” Nakamura gripped his hands together tightly. Hirose wished Nakamura was holding Hirose’s hands.
“Hirose Aiki, I’m in love with you.”
And Hirose was in a dream, but Nakamura wasn’t done.
“I thought you were so perfect when we met, but now that I know you, I don’t want that. I want you, just how you are. Happy and sad and annoyed and scared. I want to hold you when you cry, and laugh with you until we can’t breathe. I want to give you everything just to see you smile at me like I just gave you the world. I want to hold your hand during haunted houses and whisper funny things so you don’t get jumpy. I want to be the one to take you to the beach, and play in the sand like kids. I want to slow dance with you in my room, and mess up terribly because I actually can’t dance.”
Hirose laughed, but it came out wet because apparently he was now crying.
“Dang it, Nakamura,” he breathed, not even bothering to wipe his eyes, because apparently Nakamura was already doing that.
Nakamura didn’t seem scared of rejection.
“How long have you known?” Hirose asked, because Nakamura only did things when he was sure of them.
“Maybe a week,” Nakamura admitted in a whisper, brushing his thumb against Hirose’s wet cheek.
“You’re even more dense than I thought,” Hirose said. “I’ve been waiting for this since January.”
Nakamura’s eyes widened slightly. “Really?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” Hirose whispered back.
Nakamura had stopped wiping his tears, but his hand stayed on Hirose’s cheek, which might have made an extra tear slip from his eye.
“I love you, Nakamura.”
And then Nakamura was leaning in, and Hirose’s hands had clasped Nakamura’s neck, and Nakamura’s hand was still on his cheek while the other was holding his waist.
“I want to,” Nakamura said.
“I want you to,”
“Can I?” Nakamura asked, as if Hirose could possibly say no.
“Please,” Hirose had already closed his eyes, not sure if his heart could take seeing Nakamura this close just yet.
Nakamura closed the distance.
And Hirose was wrong.
Sure, he had dreamed of kissing Nakamura. It was a thought he had replayed in his head so many times that it became like a regular news channel.
But this wasn’t what he imagined.
Nakamura wasn’t rough or assertive. He wasn’t jokeful or flirty.
He was gentle, impossibly so. He left no room, no doubt, between their lips. He was kind, putting his lips in between Hirose’s like he wanted to belong there, and Hirose wanted him to.
His lips were a little chapped, which somehow made it all better.
He wasn’t an expert. Neither was Hirose. But when Nakamura breathed against Hirose like Hirose had just handed him the sun, Hirose wondered if he could convince the world to let them stay like this forever.
The kiss was gentle. It took nothing from Hirose.
And yet he was breathless when they pulled apart, and even then Nakamura was hesitant to do so.
Hirose looked at Nakamura in awe. This was the boy he had fallen hopelessly in love with. This was the boy who knew exactly how Hirose wanted to be kissed even though Hirose hadn’t known.
Nakamura looked at him in a similar way, like neither of them could believe what was happening.
And there they were, sitting on a bench in a park, holding each other like the other was the most delicate thing to exist.
“Please ask me to be your boyfriend,” Hirose said, because he couldn’t wait any longer.
Nakamura froze, then chuckled. “I was planning on it.”
“Good.” Hirose smiled, letting Nakamura kiss him one more time before he stood them both up, neither of them having let go yet. The second kiss was better than the first, somehow.
“Hirose Aiki, will you be my boyfriend?” Nakamura asked him.
Hirose, at that moment, decided to still be cheeky.
“You know the answer.” Hirose said, stroking the hair above Nakamura’s nape.
Nakamura gave him a dramatic, exasperated sigh.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Hirose Aiki, I bestow upon you the honor of being my boyfriend.” Nakamura looked at him, and Hirose thought that Nakamura’s eyes held all the love in the world, reserved for Hirose.
“I accept,” Hirose said, and then he didn’t say anything.
Because he was again kissing Nakamura Okuto.