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One
The school cafeteria was truly a battlefield during lunch hour.
Nakamura didn’t come here too often since his mother would usually make him a bento for lunch. Maybe it wasn’t always the most elaborate lunch, but he preferred it that way, since it let him avoid the mad cafeteria crowd. And the crowd was truly a force to be reckoned with: hungry upperclassmen using their mild physical advantage to shove other students out of the way, lunch ladies hurriedly counting bills and coins haphazardly thrown in their direction, a cacophony of voices trying to outshout each other to get their meal…
Nakamura grimaced at the sight. It just so happens that he had forgotten his lunch today, and the uncomfortable growling of his stomach had brought him here. It would be nice to grab one of those yakisoba pans, but at this rate they would be sold out in a matter of minutes…
He let out a resigned sigh. He would love to get some food in his stomach, but he hated the idea of being surrounded by so many people and having to endure so much chaotic physical contact way more.
Speaking of…
“Hey, Nakamura!” A whirlwind of chestnut hair appeared right next to him out of nowhere. Hirose came to a sudden stop as he dropped one hand on his knee and the other on Nakamura’s shoulder trying to catch his breath. Nakamura jolted slightly at the sudden touch. Did Hirose sprint to get here?
After a couple seconds of heavy breathing, Hirose finally lifted his head and exclaimed triumphfully, “Ha, I knew it! You forgot your lunch, didn’t you?”
Nakamura nodded awkwardly.
“Well what the heck are you doing standing around for?! Don’t you know the rules of the cafeteria lunch hour? It’s survival of the fastest! Come on!” Hirose let go of his shoulder and instead grabbed his wrist, fearlessly charging directly into the depth of the crowd and pulling Nakamura right behind him.
Ah, this was so worth it. The crowd, the noise, his own hunger – all of it faded into nothingness, overshadowed by the burning feeling of Hirose’s strong grip on his wrist and his short figure right there in front of Nakamura, bravely parting the hungry teenage mob for him. Nakamura didn’t even care anymore whether he would be able to snag any cafeteria food. God knows, he was eating good today in the whole unrequited gay pining department.
It was only after they had gotten out of the crowd (yakisoba pan securely in Nakamura’s hand) that Nakamura noticed that Hirose hadn’t gotten any food for himself.
“Oh don’t worry, I’ve got a bento from home – it’s back in the classroom. You can have some, by the way, if what you got isn’t enough.”
Two
To be completely honest, given Nakamura’s reclusive, awkward, and pretty self-deprecating nature, he didn’t expect to make friends in high school. Not that he didn’t want to, of course. But he had always been alone and it didn’t really bother him, so he hadn’t expected much to change with a new group of classmates.
Yet, here he was: in a slightly stuffy karaoke room, disco lights dancing on the walls and LEDs cycling through all colors of the rainbow behind the TV screen. The table in the middle presented an assortment of snacks and soft drinks and was surrounded by a U-shaped bench where all his friends were currently either bopping their heads to the rhythm or trying to figure out which song to play next.
Well, not all of them: Since Hamaoka had strategically surrounded herself with Kawamura and Okuda to block Takeuchi from sitting next to her, Takeuchi had immediately pivoted his approach and sprung into action, trying to impress her by singing five songs in a row instead. He had tossed his bag on the table next to Nakamura (who had really been hoping to seclude himself on the very corner of the bench… but alas) and gestured to the waitress to place his drink there as well, fully immersed in his seemingly fruitless attempts at serenading Hamaoka.
While the girls were busy looking up songs on the tablet, Oomori was half-heartedly shaking a tambourine and Mukai was distracted texting someone on LINE.
To Nakamura’s great disappointment, Hirose was running late.
“Sorry, guys!” The door swung open, and Nakamura was immediately blinded by Hirose’s bright smile. “You won’t believe this. I forgot my wallet and had to run all the way back. So I got it, but then I realized my phone was missing…”
Hirose closed the door behind him and quickly scanned the room while still mid-explaining himself. He then crossed the room and plopped himself right next to Nakamura, bumping into him sideways a bit stronger than was necessary. Their knees pressed together, but Hirose didn’t seem to notice.
Nakamura stiffened and felt goosebumps run down the back of his neck.
Across the table, the fujoshi group grew quiet, observing.
Takeuchi was reaching the culminating, high-pitched finale of his song, and Mukai cringed from the sound.
“So, did I miss anything fun?” Hirose tilted his head innocently, turning to Nakamura.
“If you want to call this fun,” Mukai nodded towards Takeuchi unenthusiastically.
“Um, well, I guess we were thinking it would be fun to sing a duet song, but we can’t decide…” Kawamura chimed in.
In the background, Takeuchi’s song finally came to an end and another one started playing.
“Oh, I guess it’s my turn!” Oomori got up and headed towards the mic, passing his tambourine to Mukai who proceeded to put it down on the table without looking.
“Oi Hirose,” Takeuchi stumbled towards him, breathing exasperatedly from all the singing. “Glad you finally made it, but I was… hah… kinda sitting there.”
“Oh.” Hirose blinked.
Well, it was good while it lasted, Nakamura thought, savoring the last moments of warmth radiating from Hirose next to him. Why did Takeuchi always have to ruin everything?
“Um,” Hirose paused contemplatively and looked around. He then proceeded to grab Takeuchi’s bag and drink and, with the most innocent of smiles, extended his arms to pass the items to him, “Sorry! Here you go.”
The fujoshi trio watched quietly. Hirose clearly had no intention of moving, instead feigning ignorance at Takeuchi’s implied request.
It wasn’t rude per se, especially for a group of high schoolers. It was just ever so slightly out of character for Hirose Aiki.
“Uh, okay..?” Takeuchi scratched his cheek, confused, but grabbed his stuff and shuffled to the other side of the table.
“Can you pass me the tablet, Hamaoka?” Hirose had now turned back around again, indicating this conversation was over. His knee bumped against Nakamura’s under the table again. “I wanna order some food too,” He smiled casually.
Three
“Tch–” Nakamura hissed under his breath from a sudden sting of pain, drawing questioning looks from the classmates sitting next to him. A drop of blood escaped the thin red line quickly forming on the tip of his finger and landed on the page of his open notebook.
Honestly, a papercut? Well that was pretty dumb of him. Nakamura clicked his tongue annoyed, scolding himself internally. He may or may not have lost track of what his fingers were doing because he was too busy staring at Hirose sitting two rows ahead of him.
“Sensei, can I go to the nurse’s office?” Nakamura raised his injured hand pointing at it with his other one. “I think I need a bandaid.”
Otogiri-sensei turned away from the blackboard, raising his eyebrow at Nakamura, unimpressed.
“What the heck did you even do..? But yeah, go ahead.”
As Nakamura rose to his feet to leave, another hand shot up in the air.
“Sensei, can I go with him?” Hirose was already getting up as well. “Since I’m the nurse’s aide and all.”
Nakamura paused in mild panic. Hirose accompanying him during various health issues was becoming something of a pattern at this point, and Nakamura wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it.
As they walked through school hallways and down the stairs, Hirose was humming lightheartedly, oblivious to Nakamura’s conflicted feelings about the situation.
“Hey, it’s a good excuse to get out of class and stretch our legs a bit, right?” He turned around and walked backwards, with his hands behind his head, flashing Nakamura one of his radiant smiles. “At least this time it’s just a cut and you’re not on the verge of passing out from a stomachache, Nakamura!”
With an embarrassed “Ugh…” Nakamura covered his face with his hand, using all of his mental fortitude to forget that embarrassing incident. He was grateful the nurse’s office wasn’t too far and he didn’t have to face the consequences of his own inadequacy as a human being for long.
To no one’s surprise, Koori-sensei was nowhere to be found.
Hirose pouted and narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Do you ever feel like Koori-sensei will get fired any day now? She is literally never around.”
Nakamura couldn’t help but snicker at this remark. The rare moments when Hirose would drop his usual sunny disposition in favor of a sudden, rough-edged sincerity were actually kind of nice. Nakamura liked to think not a lot of people got to see this side of him.
“I-it’s okay, Hirose. I’ll just wait here for her.” Nakamura sat down on one of the beds. “You can go back.”
Hirose pondered for a second.
“Nah, I mean, we just need a first aid kit, right? Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
Nakamura wasn’t sure rummaging through the nurse’s office was the best idea, considering it was probably full of other students’ medical documents and whatnot, but before he could protest, Hirose was already checking one drawer after another, determined to find what he was looking for.
“Uh huh!” he finally exclaimed, triumphfully lifting a small metal box above his head. There was a big cross symbol on it, so there was no mistaking it. “Found it! Now let’s see…”
He dug out a bottle of antiseptic (non-stinging, Nakamura noticed on the label with a small sigh of relief) and poured some on a piece of clean gauze. He grabbed a chair with his other hand and quickly pulled it next to Nakamura, positioning himself right in front of him.
“Come on, Nakamura, give me your hand.”
Oh no. Nakamura’s fingers twitched and his brain short-circuited.
In front of him, Hirose tilted his head quizzically. His face was so close, and his brown eyes were looking directly at Nakamura, waiting. “Well?”
The gears in Nakamura’s head were trying to move so hard he could swear he could hear them grinding painfully before locking up in place again. He wasn’t moving.
“Jeez,” Hirose sighed, grabbing his hand and starting to rub his finger gently with the damp piece of gauze. “You space out a lot, you know that? That’s probably how you got hurt in the first place.”
‘Oh, you have no idea,’ Nakamura thought, swallowing heavy to try and still his racing heart.
Hirose’s touch was light but confident, as he handled Nakamura’s hand with careful attention. He was fully focused on the task, while Nakamura couldn’t focus on anything but Hirose.
“Alright, bandaid time,” Hirose announced matter-of-factly, grabbing one from the box. The paper crinkled as Hirose unwrapped it before carefully placing the bandaid over Nakamura’s disinfected wound. He then squeezed Nakamura’s finger for good measure, making sure the bandaid was solidly on, and Nakamura genuinely thought his heart was going to explode. “Done!”
‘Say something,’ Nakamura yelled at himself internally. ‘If you don’t say something normal and perfectly appropriate for this situation, he is going to think you are a freak.’
“Tha– uhm.. –ihose… ‘t’s great. Good… stuff…” he choked out.
Hirose blinked, confused, before bursting into laughter. “Nakamura, what the hell…? You’re welcome, I guess!”
Nakamura could feel the blush from his cheeks creeping down his neck. Hirose’s fingers still lingered over his now tended injury.
“Huh…” Hirose hummed to himself before – to Nakamura’s absolute terror – reaching out to capture both of Nakamura's hands. He squeezed them gently and started absent-mindedly drawing circles on Nakamura’s palms with his thumbs. “Nakamura, your hands run pretty cold, huh?”
It would probably take several days to fully organize the torrent of thoughts and emotions Nakamura experienced in that moment. From cursing his clammy hands for always sweating when he was nervous, to forgetting how to breathe, to seeing glimpses of an absolutely impossible future where the two of them were standing at the altar, holding each other’s hands just like this, ready to say “I do.”
But the moment was fleeting. Hirose blinked, seemingly snapping out of his momentary daze, and swiftly retrieved his hands, letting Nakamura slip out of his grasp.
“We should go back to class,” he said, turning away and re-packing the first aid kit.
Four
“Awww mannn…” Hirose groaned, squatting next to his bike. He sighed and scratched his head, thinking.
Nakamura had just finished unlocking his own bike. “W-what’s wrong?”
“My tire is flat,” Hirose pouted. “I knew I should’ve checked the pressure… Oh well.”
The dots in Nakamura’s head took zero time to connect, revealing a perfect opportunity. Ding ding ding, this is it! One of his quiet little Hirose-centered fantasies now had a real chance of becoming reality. He quickly scanned his own bike to make sure it was in good shape – it looked fine and ready to assist Nakamura in achieving another milestone on his high school love quest.
Now for the hard part: Nakamura had to man up and actually extend the offer out loud.
“Uh,” he started awkwardly and immediately heard his own voice crack. Damn it. “I-if you want to, I could…” He gripped the handles of his bike tightly like a lifeline, “I could take you home. On my bike, I mean.”
Hirose seemed to consider the idea. “Like, on the back?”
Nakamura nodded.
“Isn’t it kinda dangerous?”
Oh no no no, Nakamura was not letting this chance slip away.
“I will be extra careful! I promise to take care of you..! I mean… I will make sure you’ll get home safe.”
Hirose let out a “Hmmm” that was in equal parts thoughtful and playful, and then he shot Nakamura one of his disarming smiles.
“Well alright then!” He secured his schoolbag-turned-backpack over his shoulders and swung his leg over the backseat of Nakamura’s bike, ready to go. “But just so you know, I’ll be holding on tight.”
‘Wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Nakamura thought.
“S-sure,” he said out loud.
As he straddled his bike, acutely aware of Hirose’s presence behind him, he felt Hirose’s hands land tentatively on his shoulders. It took him all of his mental fortitude not to jump from the touch.
“Ready?”
“Let’s go!”
It would take about 15 minutes to bike from school to Hirose’s place – don’t ask Nakamura how he knows this. But since he had promised Hirose to be extra careful, he could use it as an excuse to milk the experience – maybe make it 20 minutes, if he’s lucky with the traffic lights?
It was late afternoon, and while the sun wasn’t quite setting yet, the shadows were already getting longer and the air was starting to feel cooler on his skin. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze, and the rhythmic chirp of crosswalk signals drifted from the intersections they slowly passed by. Most importantly, he could still feel the comfortable weight of Hirose’s hands securely planted on his shoulders.
The idyllic moment was briefly interrupted when Nakamura was about to pass by a pedestrian who seemed quite lost. The woman was staring at her phone intently, likely trying to decipher what her maps app was trying to tell her, before suddenly taking a sharp turn, nearly colliding with Nakamura’s bike.
Nakamura rang his bell and swerved, brushing past her. In his peripheral vision, he could see her jump out of the way and almost drop her phone.
“Whoa!” Nakamura heard from behind him and immediately felt bad.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Then the gentle weight on his shoulders disappeared.
“Hirose?” He tried to look behind him to see what was going on while still focusing on the road. “Hirose, you really shouldn’t let go–”
But his protests were cut short when instead Hirose’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Nakamura felt dizzy – which was, of course, not ideal when he was directing a bike with not one, but two people on it. His whole body stiffened while he was trying to redirect his focus back to the asphalt disappearing underneath them.
“Phew. That’s definitely better,” Hirose said against his ear, and Nakamura was surprised by just how close his voice was. Come to think of it, he could feel Hirose’s hair softly tickling his neck.
Hirose’s fingers curled tightly around the front of Nakamura’s blazer. The warmth from Hirose’s body against his back felt… elating. Nakamura heard a content sigh, though he wasn’t sure whether it was his own or Hirose’s.
This was turning out to be a pretty good day after all, he thought.
Five
They had just dropped off some worksheets for another sick classmate in Dangogaoka. At this point Hirose was familiar enough with the area that he didn’t need Nakamura’s guidance, but it was an opportunity to spend time together after school, so Nakamura most definitely didn’t mind helping out.
The cicadas buzzed relentlessly, their chorus hanging in the thick, humid air. Summer was in full swing.
“Do you wanna get some food?” Hirose offered. “Maybe just some onigiri from a konbini or whatever. I’m a little low on my pocket money…”
Man, can his Dangogaoka classmates get sick more often? Pretty please? He would love to have more of these mundane little moments with Hirose.
“Sure.”
As they were debating which konbini chain had the best snacks, they were oblivious to the fact that the weather had other plans. It snuck up on them by pulling grey clouds over the seemingly perfectly clear blue sky, and the temperature suddenly dropped.
Out of nowhere – a raindrop. Then another one. And then – a violent downpour.
“Ahhh! Nakamura, do you have an umbrella?!”
“N-no! You?”
“Haha, nope!”
There were options. They could run into a cafe and wait out the rain there. Or they could grab one of those cheap umbrellas from a kobnini, since they were headed to one anyway.
Instead, Nakamura blurted out: “My place is nearby! Do you want to run?”
Hirose smiled from under his bag which he was using in an attempt to protect himself from the rain. “Sure!”
It was a great idea in theory, but by the time they had made it to Nakamura’s house, it was already a little too late.
“Man, I’m drenched!” Hirose complained lightheartedly. He shook off his shoes at the genkan and looked around. “Sorry to intrude.”
Nakamura’s parents weren’t going to be back from work until way later, and his sister… Well, he had no idea where she was, but the important part was, she wasn’t home either.
“You can just go upstairs, first door on the left. I’ll grab us some towels.”
As Nakamura was searching for clean towels in the bathroom, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Absolutely soaked, hair a complete mess, still out of breath from running. Far from the perfect version of himself he would imagine in his fantasies where he would invite Hirose to his place for the first time. But he had no right to complain: Hirose was here, and they were alone. Not a bad scenario overall.
The steady hiss of the rain outside was trying its best to calm Nakamura’s nerves, but to no avail.
“Sorry for the wait,” he said, opening the door to his room. “If you want to take a shower, the bathroom is downsta–”
But the scene he saw just then caught him completely in his tracks.
Hirose, with his clothes dripping water and his hair damp and clinging beautifully to his face, was glued to Icchan’s tank, starry-eyed.
“Nakamura, you have a pet octopus?! That’s so cool!”
Ah, if only his eyes came with a photo-taking feature. How he would love to capture this moment on film. Instead, he focused on engraving it in his memory the good old way – by staring at Hirose, completely love-sick.
They eventually dried themselves up with the towels Nakamura had brought, but it clearly wasn’t enough.
“D-do you want to borrow some clothes while yours dry?”
Hirose smiled sheepishly. “That would be great, actually.”
Nakamura rummaged through his closet, his mind racing. Okay, so it needed to be something decent. Something that wouldn’t embarrass him. Something that would more or less fit Hirose – maybe something he had slightly grown out of? But it should also be comfortable and warm Hirose up after the rain…
In the end, he settled on a pair of sweatpants and an old hoodie that was a little too small for him.
When Hirose reappeared in the doorway after having gone to change, Nakamura thought his heart was going to burst. His smallest hoodie was still a little too big for Hirose, the sleeves slightly long and only leaving his fingers visible, and a tiny piece of his collarbone peeking out from under the fabric.
He was so unbearably cute.
Nakamura would never admit this, but he was definitely saving this visual for… later.
“Thanks, Nakamura,” Hirose rubbed the back of his head guiltily. “I was honestly a little worried I would catch a cold. I feel much warmer now, this stuff is super comfy.”
In the end, they agreed that Nakamura (or his mom, to be more accurate) would wash and dry Hirose’s clothes and return them later – after all, Hirose had a spare school uniform set at home. In the meantime, he would just borrow Nakamura’s clothes for now.
- - -
When Nakamura arrived at school the next day, there was already a bit of a commotion in the classroom. It didn’t take him long to realize that his classmates were gathering at Hirose’s desk, so naturally, his interest was piqued.
But then he saw it, and his eyes grew wide.
There was Hirose, sitting at his desk as usual, but underneath his school blazer, he was wearing a hoodie that was just a bit too big for him. The hood was untucked, and the long sleeves peeking out from under his school uniform blazer swallowed Hirose’s hands in the cutest way.
It was his hoodie.
“It looks nice,” Hamaoka mused. “Like a nice oversized fit, you know?”
Nakamura was frantically trying to remember if he himself had ever worn the hoodie to school. His memory was failing him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kawamura squinting her eyes at him, like she was about to figure something out.
“Really?” Hirose laughed, delighted. Then, he shot Nakamura a mischievous, sly glance – so fast that Nakamura wasn’t sure if he had imagined it. “Guess I will keep it then.”
Nakamura never ended up getting his hoodie back.
+ One
Midterms were coming up, and it is fair to say absolutely no one was excited about it.
Neither of them was particularly good with schoolwork, but Nakamura was decent at math and Hirose was a-okay at English. The good old law of equivalent exchange would apply here, and so they had gotten into the habit of having their study sessions in the school library.
Except of course, with neither of them being terribly committed to their studies, half the time they spent together was dedicated to random activities unrelated to actual studying.
Such as – shamelessly falling asleep. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder because they were supposed to be exchanging notes, but not even half an hour into their study session, Hirose had started dozing off.
Nakamura sighed, watching his crush drift away in his sleep. This was nothing new: Hirose’s attention span was adorably short, and Nakamura had gotten used to it. He could never find it in him to wake Hirose up when this happened.
The library window was open, letting a comfortable breeze drift through the room. The curtains fluttered lazily in slow, rhythmic waves.
Any second now, Hirose’s head was going to gently land on his shoulder. It had become a little ritual they shared: Hirose would doze off, and Nakamura’s shoulder would bear the burden. Today, however, Nakamura was suddenly inspired to seize this opportunity and change the established pattern, just a bit.
He quietly turned in his chair to face his classmate. He wanted to take in the sight: The long eyelashes, the stray stands of brown hair dropping silently over Hirose’s forehead, the gently parted lips. The always cheerful and beaming Hirose was now so peaceful, so unguarded. Nakamura wanted to capture this moment, preserve it for later, save it for a rainy day.
Before he could regain control of himself, he found himself with his hand on Hirose’s face, gently grazing his cheek with the back of his knuckles. Surely he could afford this momentary weakness. Hirose was asleep, and Nakamura’s affection wouldn’t disturb him.
And he was right. Hirose’s steady breathing didn’t change under his light touch. He could indulge in this moment just a little longer, allow himself to let his carefully constructed guard down for just a little while.
Months and months of quiet pining suddenly flooded his heart, and he felt a bittersweet ping in his chest. Hirose was so close, and yet he had absolutely no clue. What kind of cruel twist of fate was this…?
“Hirose…” he heard himself whisper, momentarily terrified that his voice would wake Hirose up.
There was no change in Hirose’s relaxed expression, his breathing quiet and tranquil.
Nakamura’s heart was full and overflowing with tenderness. He really didn’t need anything more than this, and his previous fruitless attempts to give up on Hirose suddenly felt so silly, so futile.
‘No matter what I do,’ he thought…
“You really are the one I…”
He bit his lip, realizing he was saying things out loud. Sure, Hirose might have been asleep, but even so, voicing his emotions felt like crossing an invisible line he had bound himself to long ago.
He swallowed the words he was going to say and slowly withdrew his hand. As always, he would be much safer inside his own head, in the comfort of his shameful secret.
Except – Hirose’s hand suddenly shot up to capture Nakamura’s wrist mid-retrieval.
Nakamura felt his blood go cold. In an instant, Hirose had invaded his personal space, his eyes locking onto Nakamura's with unnerving intensity.
“Nakamura,” Hirose’s voice rang in his ears like a death sentence. His usual cheerfulness and warmth were gone, replaced with some terrifying conviction Nakamura was yet to understand.
If Nakamura could turn back time, he absolutely would. What an amateur mistake for someone with a long-standing crush like his to make. He had one job, and that is to stay quiet and continue watching from the sidelines. And he had failed at it – spectacularly.
“Nakamura,” Hirose said again, refusing to break eye contact. “What were you about to say?”
Oh, he was so incredibly done for.
Amidst the whirlwind of uncontrollable emotions and deafening thoughts inside his head, Nakamura’s brain tried desperately to ground itself in reasonable thinking. A mostly vain effort at this point, but Nakamura did manage to latch onto one thing that felt out of place about all of this…
The intensity with which Hirose was staring him down right now didn’t feel right for someone who had supposedly been asleep just a moment ago.
“H-hirose… Were you… pretending to be asleep?”
The startled expression on Hirose’s face was brief but Nakamura didn’t miss it.
“Were you awake the whole time?”
Why would he do something like that? Was he going to pull a prank on him? Or was he doing this to avoid talking with Nakamura?
How many times had Hirose fooled him like this before?
Whatever reasons Nakamura could come up with didn’t sound great, and he felt his heart sink.
The panic must have shown on his face, because Hirose suddenly looked completely disarmed in response.
“N-no, that’s not…! I mean yes, but… Well…”
Nakamura felt incredibly confused. What would Hirose have to be so flustered about in this situation?
Hirose bit his lip, seemingly contemplating something. His eyes, which had been locked on Nakamura just a moment ago, were now desperately avoiding looking at him.
He inhaled sharply, gathering his resolve. “I was gonna… put my head on your shoulder…” he muttered. The grip on Nakamura’s wrist loosened a bit. “But then you just had to move!”
Huh?
A montage of memories proceeded to roll through Nakamura’s mind like frames from an old film. Him and Hirose taking a train, and Hirose dozing off on him. Eating lunch together on the school rooftop and Hirose complaining about not getting enough sleep that day – before proceeding to fall asleep on Nakamura’s shoulder. Hirose passing out at karaoke, his head softly landing on Nakamura once again – who the hell would even fall asleep to Takeuchi’s terrible singing?
Huh.
So how many of those times was he really…
“Anyway!” Hirose stared back up at him again, but this time with a pout and a slight blush. Nakamura would definitely pause to find it adorable if he wasn’t currently dying on the inside. “What were you gonna say?”
The grip on his wrist tightened again. Hirose definitely wasn’t letting this go.
Nakamura was now back to feeling trapped like a small animal. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He felt completely exposed under Hirose’s stare.
He supposed he could come up with an excuse or two if he tried really hard. Mediocre and not particularly believable, sure, but it would at least save him temporarily from the impending doom of this mortifying situation.
But could he really lie to Hirose? He already knew the answer to this question. Especially after Hirose had been honest with him, despite how difficult it looked.
The soft breeze drifting in through the open window felt suffocating.
“Y-you are the one…”
Nakamura heard his own shaky voice but it felt distant, detached from his body somehow.
His face was burning hot. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to finish the sentence.
He knew there would be no coming back from this.
“You are the one I like the most, Hirose.”
…Time grew completely still. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, and the room was currently collapsing in on itself. Nakamura was almost grateful for it: Maybe it could get him to drop dead, right then and there. If not – maybe he could escape somewhere. How about Korea? He could move to Korea.
Hirose’s hand finally released Nakamura’s wrist and retreated. His head was now hanging low enough that Nakamura couldn’t see the expression on his face.
“Nakamura…”
Well, that was it. It was good while it lasted.
He thought he noticed Hirose’s shoulders trembling, but he was too afraid to actually look.
But then Hirose shifted closer and his arm snaked around Nakamura’s, sending a violent jolt through his body. Hirose paused for a moment before gently intertwining their fingers together, and Nakamura genuinely felt like he was going to pass out.
“I told you this before,” Hirose said quietly, his head settling against Nakamura’s shoulder in a familiar way, “It’s nice when you are honest about what you like.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Nakamura noticed the tips of Hirose’s ears burning red.
“You should do it more often,” Hirose murmured, making himself comfortable. “I… wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”