fic for digitalized_ (part 2)
> back to part 1
“You’re late,” Ryo greets Shige Saturday morning, opening the door to let Shige inside.
Shige slips out of his shoes and replies, “Be glad I came at all.”
“Good point,” Ryo says and leads the way into the apartment. “Thanks for coming, then.”
“You really didn’t give me a choice,” Shige says. “That is so like you.”
Ryo smirks and hands Shige a rather heavy box, making Shige stumble a little when he takes it. “Get to work, slave.”
Shige glares at him and says, “Hey, I’m your boss. Is that how you talk to me?”
Ryo laughs. “You’re my boss at work. But right now, you’re not. And you’re at my house, so therefore, you have to listen to me.”
Shige grumbles but sits down on the floor, opens the box. “I’m already starting to regret this,” he says, but he’s smiling and Ryo does, too. “Let me know where you want everything,” he says after a few moments, as he pulls out a few thick books from the first box, glancing at the titles and feeling a little surprised; he never knew Ryo liked to read things like this.
And the day goes on in such a fashion, they don’t talk much, except when Ryo’s ordering Shige around on where to put things away, or if Shige asks Ryo about a certain thing he finds while unpacking. He’s suddenly learning a lot about Ryo, when he finds books on all sorts of topics, ranging from classic literature to history to current events, when he comes across a box full of just porn (okay, that doesn’t surprise him all that much), or when he unpacks tattered notebooks with scribbles of poetic verses and musical notes, when Ryo snatches it from his hands, his ears a little pink, and tells him not to look, which of course, makes Shige want to even more, and results in a tussle until Shige succeeds, reading out the words obnoxiously until realizing they’re kind of nice.
“This is really good, Ryo,” he says, handing the notebook back and smiling at Ryo’s embarrassed gaze.
Ryo takes the notebook, looking anywhere but Shige, and Shige can’t remember the last time he’d ever seen Ryo so flustered. Then suddenly Ryo smacks him on the head with the notebook and barks, covering up his moment of vulnerability, “I-I know they’re good, stupid. Now get back to work.”
Shige does, if only to try and discreetly look through the other notebooks of similar wear and tear, but Ryo snatches that box from him and switches it with another full of DVDs, and laughs when Shige pouts at it. They’re able to clear out nearly half of the boxes by the time Shige’s stomach grumbles loudly in the quiet room. It makes Ryo laugh for nearly ten minutes as he pulls ingredients from the fridge and orders Shige around the kitchen to help.
Shige never thought he’d find himself in this situation, spending a whole day with Ryo, making lunch together while chatting amiably about insignificant things. He never would have guessed this would happen, never thought he’d actually like it, every one of his old memories of Ryo seeming to disappear from the back of his mind, being replaced by these new ones, the ones since Ryo had so suddenly reappeared in his life. It was almost like he never left, but now the feelings are much different, and Shige is quite sure he never really wants Ryo to leave again.
It’s a scary thought that Shige tries to push away for the day, focusing on teasing Ryo about his lyrics and really being a softie on the inside, liking the way Ryo gets defensive and yells at him while he blushes an adorable pink. And just that thought has another wave of fright washing over Shige because when had he ever thought Ryo was cute. He shoves that thought into the very, very corner of his mind, but clearly the world has something against him, as it continues to pop up in his thoughts as the day continues.
After lunch, which is surprisingly delicious (“Why is everything I do so surprising?” Ryo demanded while Shige just laughed and ate as much as he could, savoring the taste), they return to unpacking. Ryo moves into the bedroom to put away more of his clothes while Shige opens another box and pulls out picture frames wrapped in newspapers. Curiously, he unwraps one and his eyes widen when he finds a photo from years ago, a photo of Ryo and of him, sitting together on the steps of Shige’s old house in Osaka. Shige thinks it was a few years after he moved there, feeling a little embarrassed by his former self, in dorky glasses with stupid hair. Ryo, beside him, with an arm thrown casually around Shige’s shoulders, and his usual cheerful smile, looks just the same, just younger, and Shige’s stomach flutters as he looks at him.
Intrigued, he sets the frame aside and grabs another from the box, finding more and more photos of when Ryo was younger, some with his school friends, his parents, his siblings, but there are a surprising number of photos of just Ryo and Shige, and Shige can’t even remember having taken all of these pictures, doesn’t remember ever looking so happy because so many of his memories of Ryo never ended with smiles.
He’s gone through nearly the whole box by the time Ryo joins him again, stopping when he sees Shige sitting there with frames around him.
“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling Shige from his thoughts. “You found that box.”
Shige looks up at him, eyes wide. “You mean you didn’t want me to?”
“It’s a little embarrassing,” Ryo says with a shrug, making room to sit beside him. He takes the frame that’s in Shige’s hand and looks down at it, slowly smiles.
Shige watches him, the warm expression that crosses his face, and says, “Why do you have all of these?”
Ryo looks up sharply. “What do you mean by why?” he questions.
Shige blinks. “It’s just . . . weird, don’t you think? These are such old pictures. And you even have them framed.” Shige picks up another, stares down at the photo of him and Ryo covered in paint from when Ryo had helped Shige repaint his room the summer before high school. “I don’t even remember taking these photos.”
Ryo’s smile slowly turns into a frown, fingers clenching tight around the frame in his hands. “Is that really what you think? That it’s weird?”
Shige looks confused. “Well, yeah. I mean, we’re not really friends,” he says simply, pulls the last few things from the box before he shuts it. Only then does he realize Ryo’s not said anything, just continues to sit on the floor, and Shige stares at him with a little worry. “Ryo?” he questions, reaches a hand out to poke the older man in the shoulder.
Ryo jerks and Shige pulls his hand back quickly, eyes wide when Ryo looks up at him with a dark gaze. “Why do you always say that?” Ryo demands suddenly and when Shige looks perplexed, he elaborates loudly, “You keep saying we’re not friends. Why do you do that?”
“Wait, are you saying that we are?” Shige replies, surprised and confused all at once. He doesn’t know why they’re even having this conversation, why the atmosphere took a sudden turn like this. Things were going fine, before, and now, with the look Ryo is giving him, both hurt and angry, makes Shige’s chest tight, his hands clenching at his sides. “Ryo,” he continues, “the most we ever did together when we were younger was you pushing me around all the time. Getting me into trouble, stealing my clothes, breaking my toys. Even if there are a few good moments, like these pictures, how is that being friends?”
Ryo stares at him for a few long, unnerving moments before he finally sighs, and looks away. “If you haven’t realizedwhy I -” he cuts himself off and sighs again. “Never mind, Shige,” he says, placing the frame down upon another and gets to his feet.
Shige feels utterly lost now. “What do you mean, I haven’t realized? What’re you talking about?”
“Just forget it,” Ryo snaps and Shige’s eyes widen in surprise. Ryo looks momentarily guilty by his tone of voice and lowers his head with another sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and says, “I think you should go home. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“But-” Shige starts but Ryo just shakes his head and gives a smile. Shige can tell it’s forced; it doesn’t meet his eyes like those in the pictures Shige was looking at earlier.
“Thanks for coming, anyway. You helped a lot,” Ryo says and Shige notices the dismissal in his tone.
With a nod, he heads to the genkan for his shoes and reaches for the doorknob, hesitating a little because this just doesn’t feel right, the sinking motion in his stomach, the uneasiness in his chest. He looks back at Ryo, who stares at him with unfathomable eyes, but doesn’t know what to say. In the end, he nods again, mutters, “I-I’ll see you on Monday.”
~*~
“Wait, wait, and you left just like that?” Koyama questions Monday morning while Shige pours himself his third cup of coffee.
“Yes,” Shige says, and when Koyama looks at him like he’s insane, he demands, “Well, what else was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” Koyama says unhelpfully. “Demand what was wrong?”
“Ryo doesn’t work that way. He’d just get pissed and push me out the door if I tried to get it out of him like that,” Shige mutters around the rip of his cup. He glances around the room until his eyes land upon Ryo’s empty desk. He wonders why he’s late, even though it’s only been ten minutes since the start of the day.
“Well, clearly you did something wrong,” Koyama says.
“You are so not helping,” Shige replies which only makes Koyama grin.
“Just talk to him,” he says. “Things have been going well for you guys, right? You shouldn’t keep comparing him to the person he was when you were younger.”
Shige frowns and takes another sip of his coffee. “I know that,” he mumbles eventually.
“Then talk to him,” Koyama insists, then grins wider. “Look, now’s your chance.”
Shige shifts his gaze from Ryo’s desk to the door where, sure enough, the older man was rushing through. Shige doesn’t bother hiding his stare, taking in every inch of Ryo, as if trying to figure out his inner workings by analyzing his outer appearance. It doesn’t really work, other than realizing Ryo looks rather tired, much more stoic than normal, merely nodding at others as he passes by. When Shige realizes he’s heading toward him and Koyama, he fidgets, looks anywhere but at him. It doesn’t matter, it turns out, as Ryo walks past, greets only Koyama, and ignores Shige completely.
Shige feels a little like something has just stabbed his chest. He stares after Ryo with wide eyes while Koyama whistles next to him and says, “You did something terrible. He usually jumps up and down when he sees you.”
Shige turns to him quickly. “What do you mean by that?”
Koyama stares at him. “You mean you haven’t noticed?”
“What?”
“No wonder he’s upset with you,” Koyama muses with a drawn-out sigh, shaking his head pitifully.
“Koyama, if you don’t tell me what the hell you’re talking about, right now, I’ll-”
“Shh,” Koyama says. “You shouldn’t talk like that when you’re the boss, Shige.”
Shige glares at him. Koyama smiles, clearly trying not to laugh out loud, obviously amused at Shige’s expense. Shige thinks he needs to invest in a new best friend.
“He likes you, Shige,” Koyama says awhile later, relocating to Shige’s office and shutting the door behind him.
“Who? Ryo?!” Shige exclaims loudly. “You’re kidding! Of course he doesn’t.”
“I think you would too, if you weren’t so blinded by how he treated you when you were neighbors,” Koyama replies, ignoring Shige’s outburst.
Shige collapses against his chair. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t realized,” Koyama retorts. “Why else do you think he bugs you so much?”
“Because he likes making me suffer,” Shige says darkly.
Koyama sighs. “If that’s what you really think, you’re hopeless,” he says and Shige looks at him with bewilderment. “I’m going back to work. You shouldn’t let this effect your work, either, Boss.”
Shige rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, “I’m better than that.”
Koyama makes a skeptical noise and quickly ducks out of the room when Shige threatens to throw a stapler at him.
When the door clicks shut after Koyama, Shige sets the stapler back down and slouches in his seat, his elbows on his tabletop. He groans, puts his head in his hands and ruffles his hair with frustration. He doesn’t know what to think, Koyama’s earlier words seem to jumble together with Ryo’s from the past weekend and Shige can’t separate them, realizing how Koyama’s suggestions makes Ryo’s attitude much more understandable.
But it’s just ridiculous for Ryo to actually like him. Shige doesn’t get that at all. And Koyama is wrong on one account, if anything, because there is no way Shige would ever like Ryo like that, even if he wasn’t blinded by childhood memories. How could he like Ryo? Ryo, who always teases him and picks on him and annoys him and gives him a hard time on nearly everything. Ryo, who has disrupted Shige’s peaceful life with his constant whining and orders, dragging Shige around and acting like he owns the place, upsetting Shige’s perfect professional atmosphere. Ryo, who still manages to make Shige laugh like he hasn’t in a long time, lets Shige forget about being a strict, hardworking boss and just relax, pushes him to actually have fun for a change.
Shige’s eyes widen as he thinks about this more and more, and before he knows what he’s doing, he opens up his email and sends to Ryo: About what happened on Saturday, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what happened, but I’m sorry if I did something wrong.
Ryo’s reply comes just a minute after: It’s so stupid to apologize if you don’t know what you did.
Shige can’t help but think he’s got a point, but still he writes, I’m sorry for upsetting you, and only after he hits send does he realize it’s true. He remembers Ryo’s face from that day, the hurt and the anger fixed together in his eyes, remembers how short his words were, how clipped his tone was. He knows Ryo was upset about something, even if Shige hasn’t figured it out quite yet.
Shige frowns, however, when he reads Ryo’s next mail: Who the hell said I was upset?
Now growing a little frustrated, Shige types back: Ryo, I’m just trying to make things better. What’s your problem?
I don’t have a problem, Ryo says. Other than you annoying me. Just drop it, Shige. I have work to do. You, too, I’m sure. What kind of boss sits around discussing personal problems on work time?
Your boss, Shige writes back angrily. I can do whatever the fuck I want. I’m just telling you I’m sorry.
Forget it, is all Ryo says and Shige opens up another email to reply, but realizes he doesn’t know what to say now.
At least Ryo replied to his messages at all, instead of ignoring him like earlier. He still didn’t understand that, because usually Ryo greets him with smiles and waves and-
Shige sits up straight, wide-eyed, as he goes over what he just noticed and adds it together with what Koyama told him earlier. It’s true, he realizes, Ryo really does greet him like that on a normal basis. He just normally walks in and treats Shige like his friend instead of his boss - isn’t that why Shige got upset with him in the first place? For acting unprofessional in the workplace, for causing weird gossip, for being Ryo. That’s why Ryo suddenly stopped talking to him that previous week, unless it was strictly work related. All because Shige told him they weren’t friends.
Shige drops his head onto his table, not even wincing when it hits rather painfully. That’s it, isn’t it, he thinks. Shige keeps saying they’re not friends and that is why Ryo is upset with him. Ryo really does think they are friends. He wonders why, and then, as if answering his question, Koyama’s earlier words flutter through his mind: He likes you.
Well, fuck, Shige thinks, and hits his head on the desk again.
~*~
Shige’s latest revelation marinates in his mind through the next five days into the following week. He doesn’t know what to do about it though, stuck at a standstill about what he may have figured out, confused about his own feelings and about Ryo in general. He can’t be certain Ryo likes him unless he asks him, and Shige won’t ever succumb to that, no matter how much Koyama tries to persuade him otherwise. He is curious, though, and as the days go by and he thinks about it more, he starts to really wonder if it’s true. He wants to know.
Ryo, however, makes it rather hard. Ever since Shige’s failed attempt at an apology, Ryo has not talked to him about anything other than work. It’s just like those few days after Shige had told Ryo off for his over-friendliness, and Shige can’t stand it. He doesn’t like the feeling it gives him, a slithery restlessness in the pit of his stomach. He wants to talk with Ryo, wants Ryo to just stroll into the office and eat lunch with him like it’s normal, wants Ryo to drag him out to dinner afterward, do something, but he doesn’t, and it drives Shige crazy.
“Isn’t it because you secretly like him, too?” Koyama asks when Shige tells him about his dilemma, and Shige spends the rest of the night convincing himself that there’s no way that could be possible. “But you miss him,” Koyama insists and Shige shakes his head, refuses to believe it.
But as the second week fades into the third of this strange Ryo-absence from his life, Shige starts to doubt himself. He does miss Ryo, and he has absolutely no idea what this means, other than, of course, the obvious, but he’s still not willing to believe that yet.
He has about ten email drafts in his inbox, all to Ryo, sitting there and taunting him as he can’t get himself to send even one. He wants to talk, wants to fix things, but he’s scared by the truth, by the possibility that Ryo might really like him, that he might really like Ryo.
He doesn’t get a chance to really talk to Ryo until the Friday of the third week. He’s there late, the last one in the office as far as he knows, finishing up some last minute work for a client. It’s midnight when he finally leaves, locking the door to his office and heading for the door, only to find a work lamp still lit on the floor, realizing with a thudding heart that it’s coming from Ryo’s desk.
Shige hesitates for a second and then makes up his mind. He heads over to Ryo, scold him as a boss, for staying there so late, only to find the older man asleep at his desk, his head pillowed upon his arms that are on top of a pile of papers. He sighs, his heart warming from the sight. It’s nice to see Ryo this way, quiet and vulnerable, because it’s nearly a one-eighty from the way he normally is.
He knows he should wake him up, but half of him just likes watching him like this, no matter how creepy that may sound, or what it really means. He doesn’t want to disturb him, content just standing there looking, a smile forming on his face as his eyes trail over Ryo’s features. He’s always known Ryo’s attractive, had seen him with swarms of girls (and the occasional boys) throughout school back in Osaka. But it’s always been something he never thought about or truly paid attention to, until now. He’s definitely changed but yet he looks the same, just with more defined, prominent features. His hair is in his eyes, his lips slightly parted with each soft inhale and exhale of breath, and somehow, the single light from the desk lamp seems to shine upon him in ways that makes Shige’s skin tingle.
He’s reaching a hand out before he realizes it, gently swiping away the hair from his forehead, his fingers lingering on smooth, warm skin, down his cheek, toward his lips, and he stops, then, his ears filling with the thud-thud-thud of his heart. He pulls his hand back as if electrified, his eyes going wide as he tries to push away the inexplicable urge to lean in and just kiss him-
“Shige?” Ryo suddenly says, though it sounds more like a groan as he grumbles and stretches, his eyes peering open, squinting from the light.
Shige feels his cheeks heat up and he looks anywhere but at Ryo, especially when Ryo stretches his arms over his head, his shit riding up his stomach. “S-Sorry,” Shige mutters, finally. “You fell asleep. I was leaving, so I wanted to make sure you were up.”
Ryo nods and yawns. “It’s that late?” he exclaims, catching sight of the clock. “Why are you still here?”
“Same reason as you, I’d assume,” Shige replies and Ryo chuckles a little at that.
“Thanks for waking me up.”
“I wouldn’t just leave you here.”
Ryo looks at him, his gaze lingering a moment too long, and then turns away, starts to pack up his stuff. “You can go now, it’s fine.”
“I’ll wait,” Shige says.
“Shige,” Ryo starts with a sigh. “Just go.”
Shige’s jaw tightens, restraining his bubbling anger. “No. I want to talk to you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about!” Ryo snaps, glaring up at him. “I get it, now, okay? We’re not friends. The end.”
His words sting more than Shige would have guessed, his chest twisting in pain. He gnaws on his lower lip, thinking about what to say. He only has a few minutes he can tell because Ryo’s just about done cleaning up. He doesn’t know when else he could say what he wanted to if he misses his chance.
“Ryo,” he begins uncertainly. “Can’t we just talk?”
Ryo sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder and stepping up to Shige. He seems to be searching for something from the way he looks at Shige with an unblinking gaze for a couple of terrifyingly long seconds. Then he sighs again and steps aside. “Yeah, I guess we should,” he says, eventually.
Shige lets out breath of relief. “Thank you,” he says earnestly.
“Come by tomorrow. No later than one, or I won’t answer the door,” Ryo says and without waiting for Shige’s answer, he heads out of the doors.
~*~
Shige’s worked himself into a nervous frenzy by the time he arrives at Ryo’s apartment the next day. He doesn’t know what to expect, doesn’t even know what to say. Everything in his head is a mess of emotions and memories that he can’t fully comprehend. He just needs to know Ryo’s side of this, if he knows how Ryo truly feels, Shige thinks he might be able to figure out his own feelings as well.
He knocks on Ryo’s door but receives no answer. He tries again a few times, but still nothing. Frowning, he checks his watch just in case, even though he knows he came on time, and so Ryo has to reason not to answer the door. He calls once, but Ryo doesn’t pick up, which makes him more frustrated. Maybe he really is just pretending he’s not there.
In a last attempt, Shige tries the doorknob, surprise to find it unlocked. He lets himself in cautiously, shouts out, “Ryo?” once he removes his shoes and walks down the hall.
“In the shower!” Ryo yells back. “I’ll be right there.”
Shige sighs, not surprised at all. Of course Shige would be the one freaking out while Ryo just idly takes his time getting up and ready for the day. He occupies himself by looking around the room that Ryo has managed to clean and put together since he was here last. Books and DVDs are stacked in order a bookshelf by the T.V. and on the other side of that are two pristine guitars set upon stands. Shige smiles at them, remembering how much Ryo liked to play when they were younger, wonders how much he’s improved, wants to hear him play.
He looks away, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks the length of the room twice before getting antsy and sitting down on the couch. That doesn’t help distract him much because he finds on the small side table beside him, two of the picture frames Shige had discovered last time. One is of Ryo with his family, but the other is of him and Ryo, that picture taken on Shige’s front steps.
He’s staring at it deeply, almost doesn’t realize Ryo’s come out of the bathroom until the older man says, “Shige,” in a quiet voice.
Shige jumps up and whirls around, only to have his breath catch in his throat because for whatever reason Ryo decided to forgo the decency of dressing in favor of wearing a pair of colorful striped boxers. He’s toweling his hair dry with a quirk to his lips at Shige’s momentary speechlessness. Shige doesn’t even care that he’s staring, his eyes following a single bead of water that drips down Ryo’s neck and into the hollow of his clavicle.
He swallows thickly and forces himself to look away, to push the image of Ryo, shirtless, wet, and so unbelievably attractive out of his mind. Except it doesn’t work very well, the only thing he can now think of is wonder when Ryo had gotten so hot, and this only makes his anxiety grow, relentless butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
“Shige,” Ryo says again, and when Shige turns to face him this time, he breathes a sigh of relief because Ryo’s found a white t-shirt. Half of him is a little disappointed, but he knows it’s better this way. He won’t be distracted, as much, at any rate.
“S-Sorry,” Shige mutters, keeping his eyes on the floor as he hears Ryo walking toward him and then feels the couch dip from the added weight. He glances up at Ryo, who just gives him a small smile and tosses his towel upon the coffee table. Shige doesn’t know how to start this, and it’s clear that Ryo’s waiting for his move. It makes sense, because Shige was the one who insisted they talk, but now that he’s here with Ryo right in front of him, with images of shirtless Ryo flashing in his mind, Shige doesn’t know where to begin.
He really hates how Ryo does this to him. Shige has prided himself on living to a schedule, to being on top of everything. He’s smart, he’s hardworking, dedicated, a good boss, if he says so himself, and everything was going perfectly fine in his life until Ryo showed up from nowhere and turned everything upside down. Now Shige doesn’t know the start from the finish, his usual focus gone completely haywire.
Ryo, however, seems to catch Shige’s hesitation, and Shige is glad that they’ve known each other long enough that Ryo can easily stand up and change the topic for awhile. “Want something to drink?” he offers, already heading for the kitchen before Shige can answer.
Shige follows, leaning against a counter awkwardly. Ryo hands him a beer from the fridge and Shige nods his appreciation, hoping this will give him a little liquid courage. They stand there in silence for a few moments until Shige finally gets the nerve to blurt out, “I’m sorry!”
Ryo blinks and turns to him with slight surprise. “Huh?” he says, clearly not expecting this.
“I’m sorry,” Shige repeats, tightening his fingers around the can of beer. “About what happened when I was here last time. About saying we’re not friends.”
Ryo sighs. He sets his can down on the counter next to the sink and looks back at Shige. “It’s what you think, though, isn’t it?”
Shige shakes his head. “I’m not so sure anymore,” he answers truthfully.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m fucking confused,” Shige replies and Ryo looks momentarily taken aback by Shige’s tone of voice. “I used to think we weren’t, and then, now, you’re acting like we are, like we always have been, and I don’t know. I realized I didn’t like it when I upset you, when you stopped talking to me these past few weeks. Maybe it means we’re friends, I don’t know. I don’t know, Ryo.”
Ryo lowers his head and says nothing. Shige knows he’s contemplating his words and lets him think, using the time to think about this more himself. He doesn’t know what his feelings are, anymore, doesn’t even know where to begin to decipher them. All that he is certain about is what he just told Ryo; he didn’t like making Ryo upset, and hated it the feeling he got because of Ryo ignoring him for three weeks. If anything, he wanted things to be right again, back to how it was before, that’s as much as he knows for sure.
When Ryo finally looks back up, Shige stares back with anticipation. He’s not sure what to expect.
“Did I tell you why I transferred here?” Ryo says eventually and it takes Shige a few moments to slowly shake his head, definitely not expecting this. “Because I found out you worked here.”
The obvious implication has blood rushing too fast in Shige’s veins, a tingling sensation sweeping through him. “W-What?” he manages.
Ryo actually looks embarrassed now and Shige realizes whatever he’s going to say must be something he never planned on saying. “They were originally going to send someone else, but once I found out you worked here, as the boss, even, I asked them to switch with me. I practically begged.” He fixes Shige with a pointed gaze that makes Shige shiver. “And you know I never do that.”
It’s true, which makes it harder for Shige to fully comprehend. “But . . . why?” he questions.
Ryo stares at him for a moment and then bursts out laughing, his head tilted back as he’s nearly robbed of his breath by his sudden amusement. Shige feels mildly offended, looking on with both bemusement and happiness; he doesn’t remember the last time he saw Ryo laugh like this, full-hearted, warm, and so beautiful. He’s smiling before he knows it, without even understanding what’s so funny in the first place, just liking the genuine look of mirth on Ryo’s face as he finally calms down.
Laughter is still in his eyes as he grins and shakes his head at Shige with incredulity. “Shige,” he says, and his voice is light with cheerfulness, “are you really that stupid?”
Now Shige feels even more offended and retorts, “What’re you talking about?”
“God, Shige,” Ryo says. “I like you!”
Shige feels a bit like the wind has knocked straight out of him. He opens his mouth but shuts it after a moment because he doesn’t know how to reply. A thousand thoughts rush through his head, but he can’t grab onto one of them long enough to say anything back. He knows he should, knows he has to say something before Ryo takes his silence the wrong way, and finally, after a couple of long moments, Shige manages to get out a, “W-What exactly do you mean?”
Ryo chuckles, but he looks a lot more comfortable now than before, probably glad he’s finally got this off his chest. “I’ve liked you for awhile, Shige. A long time. Since we used to be neighbors and I made your life hell.”
“Oh, at least you know you did,” Shige replies with an eye roll, and then pauses as the rest of Ryo’s sentence is finally processed. “Wait. Since that long ago?”
“And that’s why I called you stupid. Stupid,” Ryo says, grinning. “That’s why I got pissed when you kept saying we weren’t friends.”
“Well, we weren’t, you know. You had your own friends.”
Ryo shrugs. “It’s fine,” he says, though he doesn’t really sound fine about it. “I shouldn’t have assumed it was both ways.”
“You’re making me feel like the bad guy here,” Shige complains. “I haven’t done anything. If this is how you felt why didn’t you say anything sooner? We haven’t seen each other in seven years, Ryo. This, all of it, is just too much.”
Ryo combs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and annoyed. “I know that,” he says shortly. “I’m not expecting anything, Shige. These are my feelings. I won’t shove them onto you and I won’t expect you to return them. Especially now that I’ve realized you’ve never even thought of us as being friends. I can’t expect you to just return these feelings.”
Shige really does feel like the bad guy now. He sets his can of beer onto the counter, having completely forgotten about it because of the seriousness of their conversation. He stands firmly before Ryo and says, “Look, I don’t know what we were when we were younger. Just neighbors or acquaintances or friends. I don’t know. You used to laugh at me whenever I fell and scraped up my knees, but then later you’d bring me ice cream with all of my favorite toppings.” He pauses, uncertain where he’s going with this, but Ryo is watching him like a hawk, eyes dark with something Shige can’t make out. He swallows the sudden lump in his throat and continues, “You were mean and you were nice, I didn’t understand it. I stilldon’t understand it. Sometimes I thought you hated me and I know I certainly hated you back, too. But now . . .”
“Now?” Ryo prompts instantly, and he steps up closer to Shige slowly.
Shige stands his ground even though half of him wants to back away. He bites his lip and lets out a staggering breath. “Now,” he says, “Now I might be warming up to the idea of . . . this. Whatever it is.”
Ryo smirks, stopping just a few inches away from Shige, close enough that Shige can smell the cleanliness of soap and shampoo from Ryo’s earlier shower, but far enough that Shige yearns to pull him closer, his eyes dropping to the quirk of Ryo’s lips, remembering his momentary desire from the night before to kiss him. It still hasn’t faded, and right now, knowing how Ryo really feels about him, knowing how he might possibly feel about Ryo, he wants to do it.
“You know, Shige,” Ryo says, startling Shige from his train of thoughts, flicking his eyes back up to meet Ryo’s gaze. “You may be a good boss and all, but you really suck at this kind of thing.”
Shige flushes indignantly. “Is that all you have to say?” he demands.
Ryo laughs, his eyes bright, and he’s leaning in toward Shige, whose own eyes grow wide when he realizes what Ryo’s doing. His heart thrums in his ears, his mind going blank, and then Ryo closes the space between them and their lips brush together and Shige feels a little like he’s flying. He curls his fingers into Ryo’s elbows, parting his lips just enough for Ryo to slip his tongue in, and Shige can’t even feel embarrassed by the tiny whimper that sounds from his mouth.
Ryo pulls away much too soon, but Shige thinks it’s a good thing as air rushes back to his lungs. He doesn’t know what to say now, just meeting Ryo’s eyes carefully. Ryo raises a hand to brush Shige’s hair from his face, fingers tracing his hairline, and it makes Shige shiver. When Ryo smiles softly, eyes warm and affectionate, Shige laughs a little breathlessly, the pit of his belly a flurry of excitement, of a hundred feelings he doesn’t yet comprehend.
“Um,” Shige says finally, feeling he should say something.
Ryo rolls his eyes. “You are so lame,” he says. “I don’t even know why I like you.”
Shige pinches the skin at Ryo’s elbows where his hands still are and Ryo lets out a surprised yelp, jerking back from him. Shige smirks triumphantly and Ryo glowers at him. “Ryo,” he starts hesitantly, and Ryo stops inspecting his wound to look back up at Shige quickly, a frown on his lips from Shige’s tone of voice. “I-”
But Ryo cuts him off. “I know,” he says and he grins, and Shige knows Ryo does know exactly what he was going to say, what he can’t say. “Like I already said, I’m not expecting you to return my feelings. But seeing as how you did just let me kiss you, I’m sure I don’t have to worry too much about it.”
“Always so confident,” Shige says with amusement, but he really wouldn’t want it any other way. “It might take me awhile,” he adds, lowering his head.
“I’ll wait,” Ryo replies. “Besides, I’ve waited years, already.” He laughs and Shige looks back up at him with his own smile. “And, not to mention, now that I’m here, I think I’ll be able to persuade you pretty easily.”
Shige slowly smirks, catching the glint in Ryo’s eyes. “Oh, really?” he says loftily, and Ryo nods, walking back up to Shige, pushing him against the counter. Shige holds onto the ledge with his hands as Ryo’s find his hips, and then he’s leaning forward, ghosting his lips against Shige’s.
“Yeah, I’m pretty confident,” Ryo says then, and Shige doesn’t get a chance to respond because Ryo’s kissing him again, and Shige’s pretty sure Ryo won’t have to wait very long at all.