Gift Fic for pot_and_kettle
Gift Fic for pot_and_kettle
by rolling_scone
Title: It’s a Marketing Idea
Pairing/Groups: Toma/Sho (which someone pointed out sounds like ‘tomato’), Arashi, Ikuta Toma (mentions of News, KAT-TUN, and K8 members)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Unwilling semi-crossdressing, Stupidity, Randomness, Fish.
Notes: AU. For pot_and_kettle. I, um. I hope you like this, even though it doesn’t have porn or orgies. ♥
---
“So what do you think?”
Toma looks at him, waiting for a reply, and alarm bells go off in Sho’s mind. Damn, damn, damn. He’d got too distracted, staring at Toma again. He really should have started working on stopping with that ages ago. “Um, about what?” he mumbles, shifting his gaze down to the notes in his hands, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“Oh, never mind,” Toma smiles with a shrug, “I’ll see you on Monday, yes?”
Sho chances a glance up at Toma’s face, flickers over his soft lips, the splashes of setting sun reflected in his eyes. “Yeah,” Sho says, “Have a good weekend.”
-
“I think,” Aiba says as he slumps into a chair next to Sho, “That some of the fans are rabid. And one day they will rip my bits off.” His head thumps against the bar counter, and Sho slides his glass of scotch over to Aiba without comment. “I love you,” Aiba smiles thankfully, downing it in two gulps.
“And yet you say you’re not gay?” Jun snorts disbelievingly from the other side of Sho, “Hypocrite.”
“Hey! It was not in the job description.” Aiba peers into his glass despondently, glances at Sho. “Any chance of a refill?”
Sho gets up, walks around the counter to the spirits shelves. “You’re paying for the rest.”
Aiba grumbles in agreement, shifts awkwardly. “And to make it all worse, these leather pants are far too tight.”
“That’s what you get for joining a gay punk band,” Jun shrugs, “I keep offering you to come with me to one of my gigs, but you keep refusing. You’d not have to wear much leather there.”
The rim of the bottle clinks against the glass as Sho gives Aiba his refill.
“Jun.” Aiba says, gazing into his glass, “You are a stripper. You don’t wear much of anything.”
Jun smirks, “Technicalities.”
At that point Nino comes bustling down the stairs, a tray full of clean glasses tinkering in his hands. “You should do it, Aiba-chan. It would be hilarious to see you poledancing.”
“It would mostly be flinging around and falling from the stage, wouldn’t it?” Sho grins, relieving Nino of his burden and starting to stack the glasses onto the shelves in the bar.
Aiba pouts. “Stop trying to make me gay.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it.” Nino says sincerely, petting Aiba’s hand, “Would you like to borrow my bunny slippers and have Jun give you a facial?”
Aiba stares at him for a moment in disbelief, then he downs his drink, blinks tiredly and sighs. “Yeah,” he admits, and both Nino and Jun cackle.
-
There are two occasions when Sho doesn’t think. Two occasions when, in actuality, thinking is of the essence. He can’t help it though, it would be like denying his nature. The first occasion is when he is around his high school friends. Arduous though their company may be, it is like all his inhibitions disperse when they walk into the same room. They are the kind of people his parents shake their heads at, but to Sho they are... freedom. In a roundabout way they are the reason he did well in school, not because they are very studious themselves, but because his father made it very clear that if his grades were less than satisfactory, he would have to say a permanent goodbye to a certain group of people. So Sho studied, until the pen made marks against his fingers and shadowy circles appeared around his eyes. Until his mother would shoo him off to bed at late hours of night, tucking him in with a worried frown that Sho could only vaguely make out with his sleep-blurry eyes.
The other occasion when Sho finds himself unable to string together anything that could be called coherent thought is when he talks to Toma. Or looks at Toma. Or hears Toma’s voice. It is not so bad at first, when they are just strangers at the same university. It’s just a jolt in Sho’s stomach as they pass each other in the corridor, the nervous thump of his heart when they are next to each other in the cafeteria queue. It gets worse, however, when they end up in the same class, and even more so when they get paired up for an assignment. Sho’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth whenever they work together, and he pegs it down to a miracle when they get a passing grade. Toma is still nice to him, despite Sho’s apparent inability to act anything other than a blubbering fool in his presence, which only makes Sho like him even more. It’s like a vicious circle of Sho’s stammers, Toma’s blinding smiles, Sho practically going into cardiac arrest, and Toma looking at him with worried eyes, which makes Sho stammer more.
He doesn’t tell his friends about Toma. Not because they would tease him mercilessly, stalk him until they found out who Toma was, then pop out from behind a bush one day while dressed in Picachu suits and proudly proclaim his secret with the musical aid of a harmonica - even though they would do that, that is not the reason. It’s because whenever he thinks about Toma, the words can’t come out. And that is that.
-
“You actually brought worms?” Sho takes a step back from where Ohno is sitting next to the fish tank in Nino’s bar, fiddling with his fishing equipment.
“Yup,” Ohno pokes his tongue out in concentration as he tries to tie the worm around the hook. Sho feels vaguely ill.
“These are tropical fish,” Sho tries.
Ohno blinks up at him.
“Tiny tropical fish.”
“I know.”
“Right, just checking.”
The worm wriggles on the hook, and slides off immediately when Ohno puts it in the water.
“You’re, um, supposed to put the hook through the worm,” Sho says, “So it stays on the hook. So the fish will swallow the hook when they go for the worm. That’s why it’s called bait.”
“But that would hurt,” Ohno says, uncomprehendingly.
“Well, yes,” Sho concedes, “But they’re going to get eaten.”
“So?”
Sho opens and closes his mouth a couple times, then he shakes his head. “Actually, fine, you just go ahead.”
Half an hour later Nino blumbers into the bar, all wind-swept hair and rosy cheeks from biking to the shops to get whipped cream (they had run out, and Nino had found it imperative that they get more before Jun turned up), and stops dead at the sight of Ohno, fishing rod in hand, leaning over the fish tank.
“Ohchan,” he says in a deathly tone, and Sho can almost hear the western-movie background music in his head, “What are you doing with my fish? And why are there worms in my fish tank?”
Ohno shrugs. “They didn’t like being on the hook.”
-
The next day, Ohno shows up with a miniature grill.
“Maybe you could treat them for post-traumatic fish disorder,” Aiba says excitedly, as Nino smashes the grill to pieces with a meat hammer, “You should treat them with care and ask them to talk about it.”
Nino stops manhandling the grill for a moment. “ You know what, Aiba? I am going to petition to declare you the dumbest gay man in Japan.”
Aiba stomps with his bunny-slipper clad foot. “I am not gay!”
-
“We need to do something about the lack of customers,” Nino sighs, elbows on the counter, his chin in his hands. “You especially need to work on your behaviour,” he nods at Sho.
“What? What did I do?” Sho frowns, “I’m not the one eating the pet fish.”
Nino jerks at that, turns around to holler, "OHNO, LEAVE MY FISH ALONE," at Ohno who has his hand down the fish tank. Ohno looks up with an innocent expression, but slowly withdraws his hand.
Aiba sidles up to Nino and with elaborate care puts down a purple business card in front of him. “She’s really good. You don’t even have to tell them that she’s a therapist, just have her come in here some time and talk to them.”
“Aiba. Are you suggesting I get a therapist for my fish?” As Aiba nods enthusiastically in reply, Nino closes his eyes and slowly turns back to Sho, seemingly disregarding the interruption. “That’s exactly it Sho-chan, you aren’t doing anything. You need to be more slutty.”
“I agree,” Jun puts in from where he’s lying sprawled on the floor on a pile of pillows he has snagged from every seat in the bar. “You definitely need someone to give you one.”
Sho decides to change the subject. “Jun, I’ve been meaning to ask, what are you doing exactly?”
“Nino refuses to get a divan. I am protesting against this clear violation of the human rights. Now get me a cosmopolitan.”
Sho pauses for a second, then looks back at Nino. “And you’re saying that I am the cause of this lack of customers?”
Nino blinks at him. “Of course it is,” he says, as though it’s obvious.
Sho shrugs with a sigh, reaches for the Triple Sec. “Right, just checking.”
-
This is how Sho finds himself in a bunny costume that Jun borrowed from one of his work colleagues, blushing brightly and handing out fliers. His legs are stinging from having been forced to shave them, and Nino’s “IT’S A MARKETING IDEA” is still ringing in his ears when someone whose face Sho knows very well bikes by him. Sho breathes out in relief as Toma swishes by him, but then his heart nearly stops as Toma slows to a halt a few metres away and looks back at Sho over his shoulder. A grin spreads over his face as he turns the bike around, makes his leisurely way over to Sho, and dismounts.
“Well,” Toma says smirking, giving Sho a once-over from the high heels and net stockings up to the make up and the floppy bunny ears.
“It’s a marketing idea!” Sho squeaks in near-despair.
At this Toma breaks out into a hearty laugh that embarrassingly enough makes Sho’s whole stomach turn into jelly, and he blushes even wilder. “I believe you,” Toma says, reaching out and flicking one of Sho’s bunny ears lightly.
Sho’s blush dies down eventually and Toma stays, helps him hand out the rest of the fliers, and even follows him back to the bar where Nino is waiting at the door.
“You only got one?” Nino gapes in disbelief as Sho and Toma walk up to him.
Sho blushes again. “Nino, this is my friend Toma from university.”
“Well, crap.” Nino grumbles, “ And it was such a good plan.” He waves them in past him, and Sho struggles not to stumble in the stairs with the horrible shoes. He is on the second to last step when Aiba exclaims, “Is he going to give Sho one?” which makes Sho lose his balance completely. He thinks that he will surely end up with his nose smashed against the floor when Toma suddenly catches him, steadies him, and makes Sho lean against him the last few steps.
Sitting down in one of the barstools, Sho rids himself of the shoes as quickly as possible, and they fall to the floor with a thunk. “That might just have been the most embarrassing experience I have had my entire life.”
“I don’t understand how it could have failed,” Nino whines, “I mean,” he turns to Toma while gesticulating wildly in Sho’s direction, “Look how pretty he is!”
Sho groans and slumps over the counter in mortification, then freezes when he hears Toma reply, “He really is.” He pops his head up to find Toma looking at him with a soft smile on his face. “So,” Toma says, turning to Nino, “You having trouble getting people here?”
Nino just grumbles. “Sho-chan, maybe you can wear a maid outfit and-”
“No,” Sho interrupts, “Never. Again.”
“Actually, I think I can help,” Toma says, sliding down from his seat and fishing a phone out of his pocket, dialling already as he walks up the stairs to the exit. Sho only hears Toma saying, “Hey, Pi,” before the door closes behind him.
Sho’s heart sinks a little as he starts to change out of the bunny costume.
-
Toma is back half an hour later, a huge and very diverse group of people in tow. Some people Sho recognises from university, like Kato and Nakamaru, and others look more like gang members - especially Subaru who instantly gets along splendidly with Ohno. It becomes a busy night, with Aiba being chased around the bar by a little wasp of a thing called Tegoshi, gasping “He’s one of the rabid ones!” at Sho as he tries to hide behind the counter, and when Sho goes out the back to get more liquor, he finds Nino snogging with the guy Sho thinks might be called Koyama. Sho isn’t really sure, he is one of the people Toma introduced him to, and as always, Sho had been a little distracted at the time.
After everything has died down, and Nino has disappeared to who knows where, leaving Sho to close up, Sho finally steps out into the early morning drizzle, locking the door behind him.
He doesn’t see Toma leaning against the wall a few feet away, and almost jumps when he says, “Hey.”
“Oh, hi,” Sho manages without stuttering, almost dropping the keys.
Toma looks at him for a moment. “You still have make up on.”
“Right, thanks.” Sho wipes at his eyes, succeeding only in smudging the eyeliner. “And thanks for today.”
“You’re welcome,” Toma says softly, a close-mouthed smile on his face. He looks down at the asphalt for a silent moment, then he looks up again. “Night, then.”
“Actually,” Sho says as Toma starts to turn away, “There, um. There is this thing I want to say.” Sho bites his lip as Toma pauses, a curious expression on his face. He might as well say it now, Sho knows. Not that he isn’t still horribly nervous about the whole thing, but this day has been the most horribly humiliating day he has ever had, and he figures that a love confession can’t really make the whole thing horribly worse. He breathes in deeply, so deeply he almost chokes on it for a second, and then he blurts, “I kind of think Ilikeyou.”
Toma just blinks at him for a moment, then a huge grin splits his face. “You’ll go out with me?”
Sho’s mind goes blank. “Huh?”
Toma steps closer. “I’ve been asking you to go out with me for weeks.”
“You have?” Sho asks, still nonplussed. “I. I didn’t, um, hear you.”
“Well, you kind of always get a really faraway look on your face whenever I mention it.”
Oh. Oh. Sho thinks. Thinks. He can think! Sho feels like laughing with relief, a wide, giddy grin settling on his face. “You really like me, then?”
“Yeah.” Toma’s fingers curl around the zippered edge of Sho’s jacket and he pulls Sho against him.
“Right,” Sho says, leaning close and breathing against Toma’s lips, “Just checking.”
-
the end.
by rolling_scone
Title: It’s a Marketing Idea
Pairing/Groups: Toma/Sho (which someone pointed out sounds like ‘tomato’), Arashi, Ikuta Toma (mentions of News, KAT-TUN, and K8 members)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Unwilling semi-crossdressing, Stupidity, Randomness, Fish.
Notes: AU. For pot_and_kettle. I, um. I hope you like this, even though it doesn’t have porn or orgies. ♥
---
“So what do you think?”
Toma looks at him, waiting for a reply, and alarm bells go off in Sho’s mind. Damn, damn, damn. He’d got too distracted, staring at Toma again. He really should have started working on stopping with that ages ago. “Um, about what?” he mumbles, shifting his gaze down to the notes in his hands, shuffling his feet awkwardly.
“Oh, never mind,” Toma smiles with a shrug, “I’ll see you on Monday, yes?”
Sho chances a glance up at Toma’s face, flickers over his soft lips, the splashes of setting sun reflected in his eyes. “Yeah,” Sho says, “Have a good weekend.”
-
“I think,” Aiba says as he slumps into a chair next to Sho, “That some of the fans are rabid. And one day they will rip my bits off.” His head thumps against the bar counter, and Sho slides his glass of scotch over to Aiba without comment. “I love you,” Aiba smiles thankfully, downing it in two gulps.
“And yet you say you’re not gay?” Jun snorts disbelievingly from the other side of Sho, “Hypocrite.”
“Hey! It was not in the job description.” Aiba peers into his glass despondently, glances at Sho. “Any chance of a refill?”
Sho gets up, walks around the counter to the spirits shelves. “You’re paying for the rest.”
Aiba grumbles in agreement, shifts awkwardly. “And to make it all worse, these leather pants are far too tight.”
“That’s what you get for joining a gay punk band,” Jun shrugs, “I keep offering you to come with me to one of my gigs, but you keep refusing. You’d not have to wear much leather there.”
The rim of the bottle clinks against the glass as Sho gives Aiba his refill.
“Jun.” Aiba says, gazing into his glass, “You are a stripper. You don’t wear much of anything.”
Jun smirks, “Technicalities.”
At that point Nino comes bustling down the stairs, a tray full of clean glasses tinkering in his hands. “You should do it, Aiba-chan. It would be hilarious to see you poledancing.”
“It would mostly be flinging around and falling from the stage, wouldn’t it?” Sho grins, relieving Nino of his burden and starting to stack the glasses onto the shelves in the bar.
Aiba pouts. “Stop trying to make me gay.”
“We wouldn’t dream of it.” Nino says sincerely, petting Aiba’s hand, “Would you like to borrow my bunny slippers and have Jun give you a facial?”
Aiba stares at him for a moment in disbelief, then he downs his drink, blinks tiredly and sighs. “Yeah,” he admits, and both Nino and Jun cackle.
-
There are two occasions when Sho doesn’t think. Two occasions when, in actuality, thinking is of the essence. He can’t help it though, it would be like denying his nature. The first occasion is when he is around his high school friends. Arduous though their company may be, it is like all his inhibitions disperse when they walk into the same room. They are the kind of people his parents shake their heads at, but to Sho they are... freedom. In a roundabout way they are the reason he did well in school, not because they are very studious themselves, but because his father made it very clear that if his grades were less than satisfactory, he would have to say a permanent goodbye to a certain group of people. So Sho studied, until the pen made marks against his fingers and shadowy circles appeared around his eyes. Until his mother would shoo him off to bed at late hours of night, tucking him in with a worried frown that Sho could only vaguely make out with his sleep-blurry eyes.
The other occasion when Sho finds himself unable to string together anything that could be called coherent thought is when he talks to Toma. Or looks at Toma. Or hears Toma’s voice. It is not so bad at first, when they are just strangers at the same university. It’s just a jolt in Sho’s stomach as they pass each other in the corridor, the nervous thump of his heart when they are next to each other in the cafeteria queue. It gets worse, however, when they end up in the same class, and even more so when they get paired up for an assignment. Sho’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth whenever they work together, and he pegs it down to a miracle when they get a passing grade. Toma is still nice to him, despite Sho’s apparent inability to act anything other than a blubbering fool in his presence, which only makes Sho like him even more. It’s like a vicious circle of Sho’s stammers, Toma’s blinding smiles, Sho practically going into cardiac arrest, and Toma looking at him with worried eyes, which makes Sho stammer more.
He doesn’t tell his friends about Toma. Not because they would tease him mercilessly, stalk him until they found out who Toma was, then pop out from behind a bush one day while dressed in Picachu suits and proudly proclaim his secret with the musical aid of a harmonica - even though they would do that, that is not the reason. It’s because whenever he thinks about Toma, the words can’t come out. And that is that.
-
“You actually brought worms?” Sho takes a step back from where Ohno is sitting next to the fish tank in Nino’s bar, fiddling with his fishing equipment.
“Yup,” Ohno pokes his tongue out in concentration as he tries to tie the worm around the hook. Sho feels vaguely ill.
“These are tropical fish,” Sho tries.
Ohno blinks up at him.
“Tiny tropical fish.”
“I know.”
“Right, just checking.”
The worm wriggles on the hook, and slides off immediately when Ohno puts it in the water.
“You’re, um, supposed to put the hook through the worm,” Sho says, “So it stays on the hook. So the fish will swallow the hook when they go for the worm. That’s why it’s called bait.”
“But that would hurt,” Ohno says, uncomprehendingly.
“Well, yes,” Sho concedes, “But they’re going to get eaten.”
“So?”
Sho opens and closes his mouth a couple times, then he shakes his head. “Actually, fine, you just go ahead.”
Half an hour later Nino blumbers into the bar, all wind-swept hair and rosy cheeks from biking to the shops to get whipped cream (they had run out, and Nino had found it imperative that they get more before Jun turned up), and stops dead at the sight of Ohno, fishing rod in hand, leaning over the fish tank.
“Ohchan,” he says in a deathly tone, and Sho can almost hear the western-movie background music in his head, “What are you doing with my fish? And why are there worms in my fish tank?”
Ohno shrugs. “They didn’t like being on the hook.”
-
The next day, Ohno shows up with a miniature grill.
“Maybe you could treat them for post-traumatic fish disorder,” Aiba says excitedly, as Nino smashes the grill to pieces with a meat hammer, “You should treat them with care and ask them to talk about it.”
Nino stops manhandling the grill for a moment. “ You know what, Aiba? I am going to petition to declare you the dumbest gay man in Japan.”
Aiba stomps with his bunny-slipper clad foot. “I am not gay!”
-
“We need to do something about the lack of customers,” Nino sighs, elbows on the counter, his chin in his hands. “You especially need to work on your behaviour,” he nods at Sho.
“What? What did I do?” Sho frowns, “I’m not the one eating the pet fish.”
Nino jerks at that, turns around to holler, "OHNO, LEAVE MY FISH ALONE," at Ohno who has his hand down the fish tank. Ohno looks up with an innocent expression, but slowly withdraws his hand.
Aiba sidles up to Nino and with elaborate care puts down a purple business card in front of him. “She’s really good. You don’t even have to tell them that she’s a therapist, just have her come in here some time and talk to them.”
“Aiba. Are you suggesting I get a therapist for my fish?” As Aiba nods enthusiastically in reply, Nino closes his eyes and slowly turns back to Sho, seemingly disregarding the interruption. “That’s exactly it Sho-chan, you aren’t doing anything. You need to be more slutty.”
“I agree,” Jun puts in from where he’s lying sprawled on the floor on a pile of pillows he has snagged from every seat in the bar. “You definitely need someone to give you one.”
Sho decides to change the subject. “Jun, I’ve been meaning to ask, what are you doing exactly?”
“Nino refuses to get a divan. I am protesting against this clear violation of the human rights. Now get me a cosmopolitan.”
Sho pauses for a second, then looks back at Nino. “And you’re saying that I am the cause of this lack of customers?”
Nino blinks at him. “Of course it is,” he says, as though it’s obvious.
Sho shrugs with a sigh, reaches for the Triple Sec. “Right, just checking.”
-
This is how Sho finds himself in a bunny costume that Jun borrowed from one of his work colleagues, blushing brightly and handing out fliers. His legs are stinging from having been forced to shave them, and Nino’s “IT’S A MARKETING IDEA” is still ringing in his ears when someone whose face Sho knows very well bikes by him. Sho breathes out in relief as Toma swishes by him, but then his heart nearly stops as Toma slows to a halt a few metres away and looks back at Sho over his shoulder. A grin spreads over his face as he turns the bike around, makes his leisurely way over to Sho, and dismounts.
“Well,” Toma says smirking, giving Sho a once-over from the high heels and net stockings up to the make up and the floppy bunny ears.
“It’s a marketing idea!” Sho squeaks in near-despair.
At this Toma breaks out into a hearty laugh that embarrassingly enough makes Sho’s whole stomach turn into jelly, and he blushes even wilder. “I believe you,” Toma says, reaching out and flicking one of Sho’s bunny ears lightly.
Sho’s blush dies down eventually and Toma stays, helps him hand out the rest of the fliers, and even follows him back to the bar where Nino is waiting at the door.
“You only got one?” Nino gapes in disbelief as Sho and Toma walk up to him.
Sho blushes again. “Nino, this is my friend Toma from university.”
“Well, crap.” Nino grumbles, “ And it was such a good plan.” He waves them in past him, and Sho struggles not to stumble in the stairs with the horrible shoes. He is on the second to last step when Aiba exclaims, “Is he going to give Sho one?” which makes Sho lose his balance completely. He thinks that he will surely end up with his nose smashed against the floor when Toma suddenly catches him, steadies him, and makes Sho lean against him the last few steps.
Sitting down in one of the barstools, Sho rids himself of the shoes as quickly as possible, and they fall to the floor with a thunk. “That might just have been the most embarrassing experience I have had my entire life.”
“I don’t understand how it could have failed,” Nino whines, “I mean,” he turns to Toma while gesticulating wildly in Sho’s direction, “Look how pretty he is!”
Sho groans and slumps over the counter in mortification, then freezes when he hears Toma reply, “He really is.” He pops his head up to find Toma looking at him with a soft smile on his face. “So,” Toma says, turning to Nino, “You having trouble getting people here?”
Nino just grumbles. “Sho-chan, maybe you can wear a maid outfit and-”
“No,” Sho interrupts, “Never. Again.”
“Actually, I think I can help,” Toma says, sliding down from his seat and fishing a phone out of his pocket, dialling already as he walks up the stairs to the exit. Sho only hears Toma saying, “Hey, Pi,” before the door closes behind him.
Sho’s heart sinks a little as he starts to change out of the bunny costume.
-
Toma is back half an hour later, a huge and very diverse group of people in tow. Some people Sho recognises from university, like Kato and Nakamaru, and others look more like gang members - especially Subaru who instantly gets along splendidly with Ohno. It becomes a busy night, with Aiba being chased around the bar by a little wasp of a thing called Tegoshi, gasping “He’s one of the rabid ones!” at Sho as he tries to hide behind the counter, and when Sho goes out the back to get more liquor, he finds Nino snogging with the guy Sho thinks might be called Koyama. Sho isn’t really sure, he is one of the people Toma introduced him to, and as always, Sho had been a little distracted at the time.
After everything has died down, and Nino has disappeared to who knows where, leaving Sho to close up, Sho finally steps out into the early morning drizzle, locking the door behind him.
He doesn’t see Toma leaning against the wall a few feet away, and almost jumps when he says, “Hey.”
“Oh, hi,” Sho manages without stuttering, almost dropping the keys.
Toma looks at him for a moment. “You still have make up on.”
“Right, thanks.” Sho wipes at his eyes, succeeding only in smudging the eyeliner. “And thanks for today.”
“You’re welcome,” Toma says softly, a close-mouthed smile on his face. He looks down at the asphalt for a silent moment, then he looks up again. “Night, then.”
“Actually,” Sho says as Toma starts to turn away, “There, um. There is this thing I want to say.” Sho bites his lip as Toma pauses, a curious expression on his face. He might as well say it now, Sho knows. Not that he isn’t still horribly nervous about the whole thing, but this day has been the most horribly humiliating day he has ever had, and he figures that a love confession can’t really make the whole thing horribly worse. He breathes in deeply, so deeply he almost chokes on it for a second, and then he blurts, “I kind of think Ilikeyou.”
Toma just blinks at him for a moment, then a huge grin splits his face. “You’ll go out with me?”
Sho’s mind goes blank. “Huh?”
Toma steps closer. “I’ve been asking you to go out with me for weeks.”
“You have?” Sho asks, still nonplussed. “I. I didn’t, um, hear you.”
“Well, you kind of always get a really faraway look on your face whenever I mention it.”
Oh. Oh. Sho thinks. Thinks. He can think! Sho feels like laughing with relief, a wide, giddy grin settling on his face. “You really like me, then?”
“Yeah.” Toma’s fingers curl around the zippered edge of Sho’s jacket and he pulls Sho against him.
“Right,” Sho says, leaning close and breathing against Toma’s lips, “Just checking.”
-
the end.