fic: Hello, Sir, You’re the Magnet to My Fist (and I’ll embrace the pain out of you) (3/3)
“He’s home,” Takenaga’s voice chimes the next day when he opens the front door in an attempt to slip in unnoticed. He winces as Yukinojo waves his arm with a joyous grin on his face. Takenaga makes his way over and pats his shoulder proudly. “Did it go well?”
“…Shut up,” Kyohei groans and drops his school bag by the door messily. He feels twitchy and nervous and he isn’t quite sure he wants everyone to stick their heads into this and get excited about it. The foundations are still very shaky and the entire ordeal is mostly just embarrassing. He has no idea why he’s so involved himself.
Yukinojo bounces on his feet and skips his way over too. Kyohei feels his shoulders rising defensively as he glares at his two friends. Why does he have to go through this first thing in the morning when he gets home? “What happened? Tell us!” the midget insists excitedly. Kyohei bites his lip.
“Nothing special,” he mumbles and tries to push his way past his friends, only to be stopped and pushed back against the door. Dammit. “I said nothing special!”
“You stayed over for the night,” Takenaga teases him smugly, trying to act contemplative. “We were wondering what might’ve happened then with Yukinojo. You two, sweetly cuddled up together… Things happen, don’t they?”
“What? NO!” Kyohei realises what he’s implying in shock and pushes his friends away. What the hell! “You’re disgusting!” he wails and starts running up the stairs, haunted by the madly giggling sounds he’s leaving behind. Seriously! It’s none of their business anyway! “DISGUSTING, YOU HEAR ME!” he still roars behind him, cursing profusely. It doesn’t help that his mind is carefully pointing out to him that he had considered it, in the spur of the moment.
He jumps on his bed prissily and picks up the soft little stress ball from the table that he starts throwing from one hand to another, trying to block all the unwanted feelings. He’s being stupid, really stupid for letting the older man just play him like this. He has no idea what his intentions even are! It’s shady! Not to mention it’s downright wrong when he thinks about it afterwards.
“Ahhhhhhh!” he hisses and squeezes the ball angrily, teeth exposed and jaw clenched. He kind of misses the harsh and uneven feeling of the little skull statue he had gotten from Sunako somewhere far, far back. It’s too bad he broke it some days after her departure in a whim of fury and desperation. Now he’s stuck with these cheap little things Ranmaru keeps buying him.
There’s a knock on the door and a female voice calls his name - Miss Nakahara. He whisks the stress ball somewhere away to hide it and tells her to come in, because he really doesn’t dare to deny her entrance. She’d probably just come in anyway and be a little more pissed, which is kind of a bad thing.
“I’m home,” she tells him with a gentle smile as she comes in, carrying a box under her arm. Kyohei peers at it curiously. He doesn’t really get many souvenirs from her, they’re mostly all for Takeru or for common use. She sits by his bedside and puts the box in his lap.
“Sunako sent you this,” she tells him softly and Kyohei’s mood drops a little. He hums and nods in answer as he starts opening the box, wondering what kind of horror stuff he’ll receive this time. “I made a little stop in Belgium to see my brother and his family. She’s doing much better. She misses you all,” she tells her with a smile as Kyohei pulls out several bars of chocolate from the box. Well, better than horror stuff, even if he prefers traditional salty foods.
“Is there something on your mind?” the house owner tempts him with a knowing, motherly smile. Kyohei scoffs and starts unwrapping one of the chocolate bars just to have something to do with his hands. “I heard you’ve been busy lately.”
“Gossips,” he moans and listens to her knowing laughter. He breaks a corner of the chocolate and brings it to his lips, not quite sure whether he has an appetite or not. He wonders if the chocolates mean something. They probably don’t. It’s been a while.
“Is he a good man?” Miss Nakahara urges him playfully, her eyes sparkling a little. Kyohei cocks his head a little in wonder, not really sure himself. There are things Natsu has done that can probably be considered good by the social standards, but something about him is also downright ill-natured. “Do you like him?”
He grimaces and whines helplessly as he chews the chocolate. He looks her in the eyes and for a while they just sit quietly. She probably really expects an answer. He purses his lips and swallows the chocolate down.
“I don’t know,” he ends up shrugging. “It’s not the same at all.”
“It’s never the same,” Nakahara’s vibrant laughter teases him as she extends her arm to ruffle his hair. “Take that from me. There are many kinds of love. It makes it special, doesn’t it? Being able to love someone like no one else… It’s a beautiful thing.”
“That is just so annoying,” Kyohei objects hastily. This whole thing makes him feel frustrated. He can’t tell things like these apart. “How will I know if I like him or not?”
“I wish I could tell you that,” she murmurs and sighs deeply, a wondrous look in her eyes. She’s probably thinking about her ex-husband again, the one she never got over. “You’ve just got to find it deep in you, Kyohei. It doesn’t have to come all at once. You shouldn’t be afraid of falling in love,” she encourages him as she gets up on her feet. “There’s something really beautiful out there for you to discover, Kyohei.”
He flushes a little red as he snorts and breaks himself another piece of chocolate. What does he feel? There are things he needs to figure out first. He isn’t even sure if they have much in common. He doesn’t feel like he knows Natsu as a person almost at all - his fears, loves and things he finds valuable. The same probably applies to Natsu. He has no idea what the man thinks of him.
“If you think he’s a good man, don’t let him go,” Nakahara whispers at him secretively and winks her eye with a slight grin. “You can never know if you’ll find someone as good again.”
She leaves him alone again. When the door snaps shut, Kyohei turns his head absently to stare down at the chocolate. So much of it. Sunako’s always been a bit anxious about how much she should give. Polite, nice and generous, she was. He smiles a bit as he picks up a postcard. It doesn’t have much writing and it’s very generic, but somehow it still makes him smile.
“I hope you’re good out there,” he mumbles quietly as he sets the card on his night stand and continues eating the chocolate a bit more happily. Belgian chocolate, huh… It is quite good, now that he thinks of it. Sunako is a lucky girl.
--
“What are you scared of?”
“Hm?” Natsu hums with a surprised tone, his eyebrows slightly raised. He’s got his mouth stuffed full of onigiri, making it difficult for him to articulate any precise thoughts. Kyohei chews on his own serving anxiously, uncaring of some of the rice getting spewed out.
“You’ve got to be scared of something,” he argues, wiping his chin hastily. The whole topic makes him nervous but he really wants to know. He doesn’t know if any of this will work out otherwise. “Like, I don’t know. Some kind of a complex.”
“I’m not really scared of anything,” Natsu shrugs thoughtfully. He’s peeling the seaweed carefully off with his fingers. “Hmm, maybe some kind of psychopathic murderers. I guess those would be scary.”
“Don’t be so superficial!” Kyohei objects sharply and steals the seaweed without a question. His stomach is growling and talking about touchy stuff makes him want to eat everything he can get his hands on, whether it’s meant to be eaten or not. “Something personal. Go on!”
“You’ve got rice there,” Natsu notes. He dodges the question as he leans in to brush it off with his finger. Something outside of the restaurant explodes. Kyohei’s so used to the screaming sound he doesn’t even flinch anymore. Natsu eats the rice from his finger and looks outside curiously, only to see the view from the windows almost completely covered by screaming, crying, laughing and fuming women. “You know, I’ve been wondering… what’s up with all the girls?”
Kyohei rolls his eyes and reaches over the table for Natsu’s hand. “Stalkers,” he assures the man seriously, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I’ve got tons.”
“You’re shitting with me,” Natsu teases him back and rocks on his chair a little to pull it forward so that he reaches to pat Kyohei’s knee under the table. “That many stalkers are just impossible to obtain. What have you done?”
“Seriously,” Kyohei insists with a snarky bark, snappily raising his knee so that Natsu’s hand crashes against the bottom of the table and he pulls it away with a pained moan. Well, he had that one coming. “It’s… I’ve been meaning to talk about it,” he mumbles, biting his lip anxiously. Natsu looks expectant and curious, glancing outside a bit. It’s making Kyohei feel seriously uneasy.
“If ever…” he begins with a cracking voice, not quite sure if he can find the right words. He’s never really had to talk about this, not awkwardly like this with someone who has no idea of the true ugliness of the situation. “They might… If they ever approach you, just ignore them. Or if they get aggressive, run. I don’t know. Just be careful. Some have done really awful things.”
“Hmm,” Natsu mumbles, stuffing his mouth with more onigiri. He looks like he’s listening, but Kyohei isn’t sure if he’s really hearing him at all. He looks like it’s no big deal at all, which probably indicates very well that he doesn’t understand it at all. “Sure. If I bother to run. I don’t run much for people.”
“It’s because of the way I look,” Kyohei tries to explain, starting to feel desperate. This is important. For him it is, it’s what has defined him since as early as he can remember. Even his kindergarten memories are flooded with people fighting over who gets to play with him. “It’s always been bad. It’s severed all of my relationships. My family didn’t speak to me properly for years.”
Natsu’s tilting his head thoughtfully as he examines his face, making Kyohei feel really naked. “Well… You do look stunning. I guess it happens. I mean, that’s… unexpectedly a lot, but, uh, I can get where they’re coming from.”
Kyohei’s stomach drops. He feels adrenaline rushing through his veins all of sudden, making his hands tremble. He pulls them on his lap to hide them as he furiously glares at his date that seems to have picked up on the change in mood. Not like he’d do anything about it, trying to look all innocent. Kyohei lets out a hollow laughter.
“You feel like you can relate to them, huh?” he asks Natsu snappily, feeling the dangerous growls coming out of his mouth unstoppably. “So, what? Had I not agreed to meet you so much, would you have stalked me too?”
“I don’t know,” Natsu shrugs as he takes a big chug of his coke. “Probably.”
Kyohei stands up, shaking in fury. He walks over to Natsu who’s looking up at him with a blank expression, almost as if waiting for what’s to come - a harsh punch straight in the face. Kyohei chuckles unhappily and shakes his head. “Stop screwing around!” he roars furiously, spit flying on the man’s face. “Not like you’d understand at all. Maybe you’re just the same then, huh.”
“Possibly,” Natsu answers him. He turns his head back to him, fringe in a messy disarray and cheek reddened. “I could be.” He says it so simply, like it’s the honest truth. Kyohei can’t stand to look at him so he turns his gaze away. He hasn’t felt angry like this in a long while.
He doesn’t bother saying more to the man; it isn’t like he would deserve it. He turns around on his heels and grinds his lips together as he storms out of the café. The pack of women squeals and screams behind him, making him almost turn around and beat them all into mush. He makes a run for it, yearning for some motherfucking privacy because he’s quite sure his head is nearly steaming and all of this shit is way beyond his capability to handle.
Also, there’s a tiny chance he might actually cry soon. It’s difficult not to when it feels like your entire body is about to just crumble away.
--
Life passes by excruciatingly slowly. Every day is dull - his new job sucks, he just gets to fill and deliver papers and encounter way too much eyeing in the advertisement office from the full-time employees, and a few too many intimate brushes or grabs too. He comes back home every day on a sour mood, unable to see the sparkle of happiness anywhere. It’s a pity that’s all people ever find him good for.
His housemates try to cheer him up the best they can. Takenaga serves him good food and Yukinojo plays card games with him more often than not and lets him vent all he wants after a particularly bad day. Sometimes he ends up venting about Natsu too - he hasn’t seen the man ever since he practically walked out on him. It’s all over probably now that the weeks slip by without either of them making contact.
Takenaga is at Noi’s place now, and Ranmaru is spending the night at the boarding house. They’ve all tucked Takeru to bed and decided to play cards late to the evening with a few bottles of beer to make the time pass faster. The cards are starting to look a bit fuzzy in front of Kyohei’s face and sometimes he has to bring them closer to see the numbers better.
The doorbell rings. Ranmaru, who is already out of the game, moves, wondering if it’s his fiancé for whatever reason it might be this time. Kyohei slams a card to the table triumphantly, feeling like a winner already. Yukinojo pouts on the other side of the table and flips through his cards.
“It’s for you, Kyohei,” Ranmaru’s voice calls out, making Kyohei turn his head around. Natsu stands next to the man, dripping water to the floor. His clothes are soaked through and his hair is practically glued to his skin as he blankly stares at Kyohei with his dark eyes. Kyohei’s stomach sinks and he jumps on his feet, spilling his cards on the table. The chair creaks as he kicks it back while shaking in fury and approaching the older man.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he spits wrathfully and starts briskly walking towards the man. Ranmaru senses the approaching hurricane and backs away quickly. Natsu just stands still, his expression unchanging. “Can’t you just stay the fuck away, asshole!?”
He pushes Natsu’s shoulders, making him stagger back a few steps. He’s on his way to give him a second push when the man grabs him by the wrists and drains him of his momentum before pulling him in a tight hug. “Let go!” he roars furiously and tries to struggle away, feeling his heart hammering awfully in his chest. He can feel the older man draw in a shaky breath. He still isn’t talking, and the water that goes through his clothes is cold and disgusting.
Everyone’s staring at them quietly, exchanging worrying looks, probably wondering whether they should step in or not and if so, whom they should speak up for. Natsu buries his face in Kyohei’s shoulder and suddenly his body starts racking with the sobs he refuses to let out.
He shouldn’t feel guilty. Really, he shouldn’t. He doesn’t know what to think, though, what is going on or anything, and nothing makes sense at all. He hugs Natsu back tightly and feels himself melting a little, starting to worry. There’s something desperate and miserable about the man on levels he can’t even describe. He doubts even he ever looked so beaten and depressed. He’s always been a fighter. Natsu, well, he doesn’t really know.
“I’ll go get a towel,” Yukinojo speaks up gently before hurrying away. Ranmaru leaves too to collect some dry clothes from somewhere. Kyohei wants to speak up but nothing comes out. Natsu is clinging to him desperately, his fingers clenched to Kyohei’s shirt as his body shakes.
Maybe he does care after all, and maybe Natsu does too. He strokes the man’s mane and nape comfortingly and then there’s a pair of cold lips pressing against his hastily, not going deep and quivering like crazy. Natsu is getting sluggish, the look in his eyes hollow without a single sparkle of happiness. It’s scary.
“Here, here,” Yukinojo squeals hastily as he pushes the towel between the two of them. When Natsu doesn’t react, Kyohei wraps it around him and tries to pat him dry. “Strip,” he commands, feeling anxious and nervous but trying to brush the embarrassing feelings away. This has nothing to do with any stupid things like sex. This is about Natsu’s health - god knows how long he’s been out there in the pouring rain, and god knows about his immune system too.
Eventually they get Natsu in dry clothes. He sits on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his form and a relatively large cup of steaming tea in his hands. He’s reluctant to talk and Kyohei can tell that Ranmaru and Yukinojo are stalking them from the shadows or around the corner. There’s nothing he can do about that, though.
This situation… is extremely awkward. He sits on the other side of the couch with his knees drawn against his chest. Natsu isn’t looking at him at all. Kyohei has no idea why he’s even come here, what kind of great sudden idea made him turn up on his door step like a lost puppy.
“Are you warm?” he decides to finally break the silence with a simple question. Natsu’s form wavers a little and he raises the cup shakily to his lips to take a tiny sip without burning his tongue, but he doesn’t answer. Kyohei kicks him gently with his toes. “If you’re here, you might as well talk to me. What happened?”
“Nothing,” Natsu answers with a croak. The man draws in a long breath and lets his head fall limply on his right shoulder, away from Kyohei. He looks apathetic and thoughtful. It’s like there’s this gloomy cloud around him that just won’t let him go.
Kyohei gets up on his knees and crawls over to lean against the man’s now warmer form. Natsu flinches a little but Kyohei doesn’t budge. He doesn’t know what this is about. He wishes he knew. Then it’d be easier for him too. He doesn’t know if Natsu is just leading him on or if there’s really something here between them, and if they aren’t going to figure it out soon, they might lose everything before it all even begins.
It’s a scary thought. He almost wants to ignore all of it, just push it away to avoid the problem completely. He’s admittedly scared of love - life has taught him to be. It doesn’t stop him from having all these overwhelming emotions, though.
“I don’t know what you’re going at,” he finally mumbles, one hand wrapped around Natsu’s shoulders, “but you should stop it. Saying things you don’t mean, not saying the things you do mean… Why do you insist on making a mess to get yourself to the bottom?” he groans and turns to look at the man’s face. Natsu’s facial muscles are strained and the corner of his eye quivers anxiously. “You should stop trying to force yourself to a much lower level than you are and pursue the kind of you you’d want to live with.”
Natsu purses his lips and nods limply, not looking like he’s going to do anything Kyohei is trying to tell him to do at all. It’s frustrating and it makes him shake the man slightly from his shoulders. Natsu spills hot tea over his lap and gasps, but uncharacteristically doesn’t curse or moan.
“Do you love me?” Kyohei asks him bluntly. Natsu finally turns his head a bit to glance at him, a grimace on his face that makes him look like he’s rejecting Kyohei’s being with every inch of his body. “Do you even like me? Not for my face, not for my body. For me.”
There’s a swallow, and a lost look in Natsu’s eyes. He’s probably confused himself, just like Kyohei is. “Alright,” Kyohei mumbles disappointedly and rests his head on Natsu’s shoulder. “You don’t have to decide yet. Just start thinking about it, won’t you?”
“Do you like me?” Natsu asks him back, voice hollow and sorrowful. Kyohei feels adrenaline rushing to his veins, a flight reaction that strains his body. He cocks his head thoughtfully and purses his lips. He knows the answer. Whether he wants to admit it to the person in question, well, that’s another thing.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you,” Natsu finally sighs morosely, turning his head away from Kyohei who feels his heart pounding awfully loudly. His eyes narrow as he tries to understand what Natsu is getting at. It’s frustrating when the man is so insistent on not properly meeting him halfway. Natsu looks uncertain and anxious, ready to get up and walk back out into the rain as he chews his fingers.
“Me either,” Kyohei finally offers his sympathies and withdraws his arm from around the man’s shoulder. Natsu sinks into himself, hiding behind his fringe and the straight line of his lips. Kyohei feels himself forgiving Natsu for his tactless behaviour and notations. There’s no way he can judge him with the face he has.
He turns the man’s face around and kisses him on the lips surely. Suddenly Natsu is moving, and he’s moving fast. His moist lips attack Kyohei’s shoulder out of nowhere and his fingers slide down his inner thigh, alarmingly close to his crotch. Kyohei twists his torso around and aims a harsh punch on the man’s face to get him to back the hell away before he jumps off the bed with his eyes flaming hellfire. Natsu holds his chin with his hands, head lowered and bangs covering his dark eyes again. The man scoffs a bit and glares up at him defiantly, mouth open and face so relaxed it has to be artificial.
It’s ridiculous how miserable he manages to look when he acts all nonchalant. He’s swaying a bit, typically, and turning his head away as he rubs his injured chin. There’s a dark chuckle that rings in the room and it makes Kyohei’s body hair stand on edge. He’s prepared to flee.
“Does this make me a bad guy too?” Natsu questions him with a demeaning tone. He clicks his tongue and finally lets go of the tender red spot on his chin, his arms falling limply back on the couch. He looks like an immature child even if he’s already past his mid-thirties. “Getting serious with me sucks, doesn’t it? It’s fun when it’s all play, right. In reality you find me disgusting. You think you’re better than me.”
“I don’t do sex,” Kyohei defends himself furiously, feeling physically startled as Natsu slurs his mind’s worth of thoughts at him spitefully. Kyohei might be the one at fault here, he is the one overreacting and fighting all of this, as much as he wants to blame Natsu for everything. It’s infuriatingly ridiculous and he hates it. It’s not as if he wouldn’t have ever dated or had sex either - he did. Some years back, when he was still together with Sunako, they did eventually develop a sex life. It doesn’t change the fact that he feels like he can’t do it, like he doesn’t want to do it. The whole idea of him having sex with anyone disgusts him and makes him feel used. Natsu’s reaction to his refusal sure as hell isn’t convincing him otherwise. Even this whole setting is ridiculous; he isn’t going to go for it in the lounge. “I’m asexual.”
Natsu laughs. He throws his head back and eventually slumps against the corner. His laughter is wheezy and the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes as his lips curve into a mean smile. “I’ve felt your arousal,” he throws back. Kyohei sees red and throws a wooden block from the table at the man. Natsu’s arms shoot up to block the object from hitting his head. His laughter dies.
“Liar,” Natsu accuses him, tilting his chin up to show off his poise. “You could just say you’re not interested. Instead, you lead me on and come up with petty lies. Liar.”
Kyohei makes a lunge at him. After a brief struggle they crush down from the couch and Natsu punches him hard in the face. He sees stars as he fights back. Natsu spits blood at his face and he knees him between his legs to stop his wandering hands that are trying to unbutton his pants. When the man doubles over, face red and body trembling, he wipes the blood off his face and shoves the table over, spilling the rest of the blocks and a thick pile of magazines over the man’s coughing form.
“Ah, I’ve got to leave then,” Natsu finally breathes from the floor as Kyohei stomps towards the door and pulls it open, uncaring of the rain that starts wetting the floor. Kyohei turns around and stares at Natsu coldly as the man warily sits up from under the pile of junk. His hair is tousled and he looks harmless and abused, blood staining his lips and bruise forming over his left cheekbone. It strikes Kyohei hard, reminding him of himself during his darkest times just before he left home. That look on him… he knows the depressed feelings and thoughts behind it.
None of that changes anything, though. “Maybe if you treated people right, someone would actually care about you,” he shoots cruelly at the man. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t fully mean what he’s saying right now, none of this does. He’s too angry to care. “If you don’t like yourself, there’s nothing there for others to like either!”
Natsu doesn’t answer. He purses his lips together and looks up at the ceiling, acting drunkenly even though he probably hasn’t had a single sip because no smell of alcohol lingers around him. Kyohei forces his legs to move and approaches the man threateningly without a further word.
“Don’t throw me out,” Natsu pleads him hoarsely, sitting motionlessly on the floor. “Don’t make me go. Let me stay with you,” the man tries gasping weakly and apathetically as Kyohei yanks him up on his feet. He holds the man by his biceps as Natsu looks down at him, refusing to turn his gaze away. He’s kind of scary.
“It’s pouring, Kyohei!” a shaky chime suddenly comes in from nowhere, making Kyohei turn his head snappily. Of course - privacy, who the fuck cares about that when it comes to him?
Yukinojo and Ranmaru break them apart, Ranmaru holding his arms behind his back while Yukinojo drags Natsu a safe distance away. “THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!” Kyohei roars at his friends, unable to comprehend how they can’t stand up for him in case they really have to interfere with his problems.
Takeru walks down the stairs too, dressed up in his pyjamas and rubbing his sleepy eyes. “What’s going on?” he asks and Kyohei trembles in Ranmaru’s hold. He just wants to get away. All of this is making him feel like shit - a mixture of embarrassment, shame, rage, desperation and loneliness. He’s the black sheep of the house, after all.
“Takasugi is going to stay for the night,” Yukinojo announces and tries to hurry the man up the stairs too, but Natsu shoves him away to free himself and turns around, staring at Kyohei meaningfully. He feels cold sweat forming in his fists.
“It’s his decision,” Natsu states, making everyone stare at him.
It’s understandable. If he decides to want Natsu gone, the man has no further business here after all. This is it - his moment to either take a leap of faith or cowardly back away. His throat feels tight and he isn’t able to open his mouth, to answer to the man. The pressure gets heavier.
“It’s raining, Kyohei!” Takeru reminds him. Kyohei turns his head to glance at the opened door. There’s a puddle of rainwater on the floor now, slippery and dangerous. The weather forecast had promised thunder. His lips twitch. “Don’t be an idiot!”
“You can’t make him go out in the rain again,” Ranmaru commands him reasonably. Kyohei can imagine his facial expression even if he can’t see it. He bites his lip and tries to struggle to get away but the man doesn’t let go. “It’s pouring.”
“This has nothing to do with the rain,” Natsu growls dangerously, cocking his head back. He looks superior now, eyes cold as he waits for Kyohei to confess something, anything. He probably hasn’t transmitted his feelings properly to the other man. It’s not his forté.
The man starts walking forward and Yukinojo covers his face with his hands, preparing himself for the worst. Natsu stops before Kyohei. There’s the strange sensation again, the one that makes him painfully aware of Natsu’s figure before him and pulls him in like a magnet. Natsu raises his chin and looks into his eyes, searching for something. Kyohei tries his hardest not to blush.
“…I’m going then,” he finally murmurs after a long silence later as he withdraws. Kyohei feels helpless as he stares at him, sees him back away in that slouchy, wavy way of his. “I’ll mail the clothes back. Thank you for lending them to me,” he directs his words to Kyohei’s friends and bows a little. Takeru looks like this isn’t how he wants this to go. No one does.
Ranmaru lets him go. Yukinojo is glaring at him with teary eyes, which is ridiculous because it’s not like this has anything to do with him. Natsu pulls his shoes back on and makes his way out of the door without looking back. He closes the door after him, leaving Kyohei standing motionlessly, frozen in shock.
Isn’t it bad enough to have to go through a break-up kind of separation once? Why does he have to do this twice?! He yanks his hair furiously and curses, unable to keep it all in anymore. It’s coming out of nowhere, that horrible feeling, making him feel like his world is ending and there’s absolutely no reason to go on anymore because there’s nothing to look forward to. Not with his life.
“You’re an idiot,” Yukinojo hisses at him before stomping his way loudly upstairs. Ranmaru lets out a disappointed sigh and Takeru sniffs quietly, unable to even voice how disappointed he is. Kyohei bites his lips together shakily and proceeds to clean up the mess he left with the table and all.
“You’re going to regret that one,” Ranmaru finally notes before walking away too. Takeru stays behind, hugging the staircase pillar. He might be older now, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still just a child. He shouldn’t see all of this. Kyohei wonders when he’ll get kicked out for the trouble and inappropriate behaviour he engages in under the house owner’s son’s watching eyes.
After a while, the small boy runs to him and shoves him to the shoulder, making him fall over. He’s sniffing and there are wet lines drawn on his face. He looks angry too as Kyohei glances up at him, feeling his form tremble. He kind of wants to hug the kid, but that would probably earn him an angry punch.
“Why aren’t you running after him!?” Takeru finally shouts at him. “You’re so stupid, Kyohei! You like him and he likes you too! Stop being difficult!”
“Stop telling me what I feel,” Kyohei tries to argue against the kid but gets shoved all the way down on the floor again. “Ouch,” he mumbles sadly and feels Takeru pulling on his shirt. The kid is determined. “Leave me alone!”
“Go after him before he really will be gone!” Takeru insists. “You hurt his feelings! You need to go and apologize -”
“He hurt my feelings!” Kyohei yells, trying to make his voice audible over the small boy’s roaring. “He’s an ass!”
“If he hurt your feelings, you obviously had feelings for him!”
It hits him under the belt, silencing him. Yes, he did. He did have feelings. It doesn’t change anything. He has no idea what Natsu feels for him and everything is so complicated. Nothing works, they’re constantly fighting and avoiding each other.
“He liked you for who you are, Kyohei,” Takeru sniffs, pouting and wiping tears from his cheeks. “He was special. After Sunako you haven’t had anyone like that. So don’t be stupid now and let it go just because you’re being stupid -”
Kyohei makes a dash at the door, yanks it open and runs off into the rain. “NATSU!” he bellows, trying to make his voice audible over the rain as he wonders which direction he should run into. He thinks he sees a silhouette somewhere far away in the distance, walking away from the large premises of the mansion. He runs after it as fast as he can, feeling the raindrops hitting his face like tiny shards of icy glass. Why does he always end up running after the people he likes like a complete idiot? “NATSU, STOP!” he roars louder, starting to feel out of breath. The figure doesn’t turn around. “NATSU!”
The man only turns around when they reach the gates and he’s five metres away from him. He grabs the man’s shoulder as he leans to his knees breathlessly, feeling sweat and rainwater running down his forehead. Natsu looks angry and at a loss of words, not fully pleased with Kyohei running after him.
Kyohei pulls him into a kiss, wrapping his arms around the older man. Their soaked clothes get glued together as Natsu answers him and Kyohei clings to him, afraid of breaking apart. He fears Natsu will leave after all, tell him he’s the slyest bitch he’s ever come across during his lifetime. He’d probably at least partially deserve that one.
“Be clear with me,” Natsu demands him, yelling over the heavy rain. “You can’t change your mind every five minutes!”
“I LIKE YOU!” Kyohei roars back, gripping the man’s sides tightly. His knees feel weak and there are ridiculous butterflies in his stomach that aren’t pleasant or funny at all. “IF YOU WOULD STOP ASSUMINGTHINGS ON YOUR OWN -”
“DON’T MAKE THIS MY FAULT!” Natsu bellows back at him, tugging him closer from the hair. It hurts a little but it doesn’t matter as Natsu’s moist odour invades his senses again. He’s attracted, undeniably so. It’s a scary thing.
They make their way back inside, sniffing and shaking from the cold. Everyone seems to have disappeared, or maybe they’re just lurking in the shadows once again, keeping a gossipy eye on them. Kyohei helps Natsu to his room and strips him down before their crawl to the bed in college trousers and t-shirts, snuggling together more boldly than before.
After that, things get a bit better.
--
Weeks pass by pleasantly. He’s fired from his job once again, adding another profession to his growing list of ex-professions. Natsu is busy recording songs for his upcoming album and practising but he lets Kyohei come along sometimes. The manager grinds her teeth every time but lets him stay. Once after a couple of drinks, she admits it’s because it improves everyone’s performance, even if it makes Natsu more smug and argumentative.
Then there are weekends when they’re both off university and jobs, spending days together just lazing around. It’s comfortable. He enjoys the way Natsu’s affectionate personality shows when he doesn’t feel threatened: how his hands thread through Kyohei’s short hair and how he quietly holds him physically close. It doesn’t have the feeling of arousal as Kyohei rests his back against Natsu’s chest and enjoys the feeling one of his arms thoughtfully wrapped around his waist and one buried in his locks. Natsu is soft and warm and Kyohei wonders how attentive he is with the cliché Japanese drama starring Kimura Takuya that’s playing on the TV. Everyone else has disappeared somewhere long ago already after giving each other long, meaningful looks. Typical.
Neither of them reacts to the doorbell when it rings. If anything, Natsu takes the opportunity to pull him just a little closer again and cuddles into Kyohei’s nape, proving his suspicions of the man not following the drama properly. “You’re so annoying,” Kyohei grumbles and jabs his elbow under Natsu’s ribcage, managing to emerge a pained huff from him. “Stop coming onto me!”
“It’s not my fault the drama is boring,” Natsu defends himself matter-of-factly, stretching his body over the armrest. “I can’t stay focused and I’m getting bored.”
He already knows what happens when Natsu gets bored, there’s no need to elaborate that. He turns around with his hands supporting his weight on the armrest on both sides of Natsu’s head. “You should’ve said so, we could’ve done something else,” he accuses. It feels a bit half-hearted, though. To be honest, he got bored enough with the show ages ago as well. He just didn’t want the enjoyable intimacy to end just yet.
They end up sharing a languid kiss, Natsu’s lips rising to meet his. Natsu feels a bit flushed beneath him as he parts his lips to brush his tongue against Kyohei’s lips, asking for entrance. It’s moist and soft, the way they kiss. There’s chemistry between them and it feels satisfying when Natsu insistently tries to devour him, wants just a little bit more of him.
They break apart, faces still close. Natsu’s lips peck at his chin and his neck, his hands settling on his hips to guide him down a bit. Kyohei is just about to open his mouth to spit venomous, accusing words at his boyfriend when Yukinojo’s voice calls out for him. When he sits up on Natsu’s lap, Yukinojo steps inside the room accompanied by his mother. “You have a guest,” Yukinojo tells him cheerfully as Kyohei flushes scarlet and clumsily searches for the remote to turn the TV off - there’s no way he’s letting his mum think he watches soap operas.
“Mum,” he finally chokes as he succeeds and hastily makes his way over to hug her hello. Natsu jumps up too, his eyes widened and body alert all of a sudden. The man tidies up his hair and makes his way over, stopping next to Kyohei before bowing down. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Takano,” he greets briskly. Kyohei raises his eyebrows suspiciously, not having come across that tone of voice yet. It kind of unsettles him.
“Afternoon,” Kyohei’s mother greets him a bit hesitantly, her head bowing politely too. Kyohei kicks Natsu to the shin to make him straighten up. The man fidgets as he stands, posture straight. He looks silly like it.
Kyohei… hasn’t told his parents. He isn’t sure if he wants to, either, and Natsu is being so painfully transparent it’s getting ridiculous. When his father joins them he shakes his hand and his father notes jokingly on his sweaty hand, making Natsu’s cheeks burn vibrantly. Kyohei feels like he’s gotten stuck in a scary soap opera.
Natsu gets along well with his parents. First it’s really awkward and stiff and his parents look calculative and disapproving, probably picking on the unmentioned relationship the two of them share. Kyohei’s father questions Natsu about his age and profession and whatnot when his mother asks him to help him out with the dinner preparations.
“He’s a fine man,” his mother chimes shakily at him and tries a smile. Her laughter rings in the air, making Kyohei want to break down and cry but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know whether his mother means it or not. After all these years, he still can’t tell when she’s just saying things without meaning them. He’s always so painfully oblivious. “Bring him over some time, won’t you? I’ll talk with your father.”
“I don’t know,” Kyohei admits hesitantly, glancing at the table where his father looks at Natsu with a blank face as the younger man attempts to discuss something to the brick wall before him. “He doesn’t look happy.”
“He’s just concerned. The man’s almost our age,” his mother laughs again breathlessly as she prepares the rice while Kyohei chops the cucumber slowly and messily. “I know we haven’t really shown it well in years, but we’re very protective of you, Kyohei. I’m sure you can understand that. It might take a while.”
“…Hmm.” Kyohei nods and tries to smile at his mother, even if it ends up half-hearted. “We’re not dating. Not really,” he decides to point out, just in case it makes the situation any better. His mother stirs the rice and walks over to help him with the vegetables.
“Do you want to?” she asks him gently, looking him meaningfully in the eyes. Kyohei cocks his head a bit in wonder, not really voicing out his thoughts. His mother runs her fingers through his hair fondly. “We’ll get ready for it then.”
Kyohei feels grateful as he smiles at his mother sadly. After all these years, he’s still causing trouble, no matter how hard he tries to just meet his parents’ expectations. Perhaps one day it doesn’t have to be that way. Or maybe one day he’ll learn that it doesn’t matter that much, as long as he feels happy himself.
--
“Do you want to know it?” Noi asks him one day at the university while they wait for the others to join them for lunch. “Natsu’s complex,” she specifies the topic and Kyohei snorts a bit. He doesn’t - Natsu doesn’t really talk about it. He isn’t really in for the talking thing when it implies pouring one’s heart out for the other one about biggest fears and whatnots. He’s still holding onto his mighty mask, even after all the times he’s completely broken down before him.
“How would you know it?” he throws a snarky question to the girl, glaring at her with pursed lips. She giggles a little as she sits down on the chair besides his, resting her elbow to the table. Sometimes, Kyohei thinks, she’s downright scary.
“I’m a fan,” she admits and squeals excitedly. “I’ve read things from papers. Plus I’ve listened to his songs. You haven’t really thought about the origins of all of his lyrics, have you?” she teases him. Kyohei snorts and argues back, even if his words are complete bullshit.
“There were rumours back when Natsu’s old band really rocked the charts,” she tells him while digging for a magazine from her school purse. “About their second manager who was just a student back then. She was with them for quite a while before she apparently quit.”
“Do magazines really care about that stuff?” Kyohei scoffs, feeling a bit hesitant about this. Sometimes Noi’s ‘factual points’ are completely irrelevant and stupid. He wonders if this one is too, or if she’s actually got a point somewhere.
“Ah, found it!” she yells and slams the magazine on the table before him. There’s a grainy black and white picture too. He can recognize Natsu, a bit younger than now. He doesn’t recognize the woman walking beside him, the one he has his arm around.
“There was talk about a possible love affair,” Noi gossips knowingly. Kyohei glances at the article curiously, feeling weird that Natsu’s life can be read from magazines just like that. “But she left him, and the whole band too. She just walked away.”
“…Uh huh,” Kyohei mumbles, not quite sure if he should believe the vague story or not. Noi turns his head to look straight at her and he groans. “What?” he whines and slaps her hand away gently. He wouldn’t dare to hurt Takenaga’s girlfriend, not unless he’d nurture a death wish.
“He’s afraid of not being good enough, Kyohei,” she tells him slowly and deliberately as if he wasn’t able to understand normal speech. Kyohei grimaces. He’s not that stupid. “So you’ve got to make sure you treat him well!” she nags and pats his nose. Kyohei purses his lips and turns his head away, scratching his nape. She laughs.
“Seriously, though,” she sighs as she tucks the magazine back in her bag. “He’s not in speaking terms with his family either. Hasn’t been since there’s been a public word about it,” she smiles sadly at him. “I think you might have more in common than you’ve even realised yet.”
“Hmm,” Kyohei nods, feeling avoidant and quiet. He rocks a bit on his chair as they wait for the others. Noi starts fixing her make up when he falls deep in thought, pondering about the truthfulness of the article and public gossip about Natsu’s private life.
Whether it’s true or not, it doesn’t matter right now. One day, Natsu might tell it to him himself. Before that, what happened or didn’t happen is irrelevant.
--
“I’m ready,” he tells the older man huskily after pressing moist and heated kisses on the man’s throat and caressing his naked chest with his palms. Natsu stares at him with half-lidded and hazy eyes. He feels lusty underneath him when his hips gently undulate and his body arches to his touch.
“Good,” Natsu sighs, breathing out shakily as he lays his hands on Kyohei’s hips. “Because sex is part of the deal.” Kyohei scoffs and silences him with yet another steamy kiss as he starts unbuttoning Natsu’s trousers, feeling the insistent bulge waiting for the attention that has been denied for too long already.
Natsu’s body is hot. Tiny droplets of sweat have formed all over his body and his mouth hangs open as Kyohei pushes deeper, listens to the desperate moan he emits from the older man. He wipes the man’s fringe away from his eyes and flexes his body over him to slide upwards for a kiss while his hips push against the soft flesh. Natsu looks beautifully dishevelled as he presses Kyohei’s sides with his knees before Kyohei helps him to support the man’s torso’s weight with his arms, cocooning Natsu’s curled up form against him as he pulls out a little again.
“Date me,” Kyohei murmurs to the older man while the pleasant shivers rack his form. He’s unable to stop the words from forming on his tongue as the hormones flood his system, sending him to much higher clouds than he can ever recall encountering. His next rock is a bit more insistent, a bit more certain. Natsu’s hot breath against his hypersensitive ear makes it all the better.
“Took you long enough~” Natsu tries to tease him but he jolts his hips more urgently, hitting a spot that makes the man gasp and whimper helplessly. He smirks, finally feeling like he has the upper hand. “Faster,” Natsu demands, rocking against his hips insistently, a needy groan leaving his throat. “There.”
Kyohei chuckles at him and kisses him as he picks up more speed to the rhythm. The headboard bangs against the wall, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is here and now and that, if something, is finally absolutely amazing.
“…Shut up,” Kyohei groans and drops his school bag by the door messily. He feels twitchy and nervous and he isn’t quite sure he wants everyone to stick their heads into this and get excited about it. The foundations are still very shaky and the entire ordeal is mostly just embarrassing. He has no idea why he’s so involved himself.
Yukinojo bounces on his feet and skips his way over too. Kyohei feels his shoulders rising defensively as he glares at his two friends. Why does he have to go through this first thing in the morning when he gets home? “What happened? Tell us!” the midget insists excitedly. Kyohei bites his lip.
“Nothing special,” he mumbles and tries to push his way past his friends, only to be stopped and pushed back against the door. Dammit. “I said nothing special!”
“You stayed over for the night,” Takenaga teases him smugly, trying to act contemplative. “We were wondering what might’ve happened then with Yukinojo. You two, sweetly cuddled up together… Things happen, don’t they?”
“What? NO!” Kyohei realises what he’s implying in shock and pushes his friends away. What the hell! “You’re disgusting!” he wails and starts running up the stairs, haunted by the madly giggling sounds he’s leaving behind. Seriously! It’s none of their business anyway! “DISGUSTING, YOU HEAR ME!” he still roars behind him, cursing profusely. It doesn’t help that his mind is carefully pointing out to him that he had considered it, in the spur of the moment.
He jumps on his bed prissily and picks up the soft little stress ball from the table that he starts throwing from one hand to another, trying to block all the unwanted feelings. He’s being stupid, really stupid for letting the older man just play him like this. He has no idea what his intentions even are! It’s shady! Not to mention it’s downright wrong when he thinks about it afterwards.
“Ahhhhhhh!” he hisses and squeezes the ball angrily, teeth exposed and jaw clenched. He kind of misses the harsh and uneven feeling of the little skull statue he had gotten from Sunako somewhere far, far back. It’s too bad he broke it some days after her departure in a whim of fury and desperation. Now he’s stuck with these cheap little things Ranmaru keeps buying him.
There’s a knock on the door and a female voice calls his name - Miss Nakahara. He whisks the stress ball somewhere away to hide it and tells her to come in, because he really doesn’t dare to deny her entrance. She’d probably just come in anyway and be a little more pissed, which is kind of a bad thing.
“I’m home,” she tells him with a gentle smile as she comes in, carrying a box under her arm. Kyohei peers at it curiously. He doesn’t really get many souvenirs from her, they’re mostly all for Takeru or for common use. She sits by his bedside and puts the box in his lap.
“Sunako sent you this,” she tells him softly and Kyohei’s mood drops a little. He hums and nods in answer as he starts opening the box, wondering what kind of horror stuff he’ll receive this time. “I made a little stop in Belgium to see my brother and his family. She’s doing much better. She misses you all,” she tells her with a smile as Kyohei pulls out several bars of chocolate from the box. Well, better than horror stuff, even if he prefers traditional salty foods.
“Is there something on your mind?” the house owner tempts him with a knowing, motherly smile. Kyohei scoffs and starts unwrapping one of the chocolate bars just to have something to do with his hands. “I heard you’ve been busy lately.”
“Gossips,” he moans and listens to her knowing laughter. He breaks a corner of the chocolate and brings it to his lips, not quite sure whether he has an appetite or not. He wonders if the chocolates mean something. They probably don’t. It’s been a while.
“Is he a good man?” Miss Nakahara urges him playfully, her eyes sparkling a little. Kyohei cocks his head a little in wonder, not really sure himself. There are things Natsu has done that can probably be considered good by the social standards, but something about him is also downright ill-natured. “Do you like him?”
He grimaces and whines helplessly as he chews the chocolate. He looks her in the eyes and for a while they just sit quietly. She probably really expects an answer. He purses his lips and swallows the chocolate down.
“I don’t know,” he ends up shrugging. “It’s not the same at all.”
“It’s never the same,” Nakahara’s vibrant laughter teases him as she extends her arm to ruffle his hair. “Take that from me. There are many kinds of love. It makes it special, doesn’t it? Being able to love someone like no one else… It’s a beautiful thing.”
“That is just so annoying,” Kyohei objects hastily. This whole thing makes him feel frustrated. He can’t tell things like these apart. “How will I know if I like him or not?”
“I wish I could tell you that,” she murmurs and sighs deeply, a wondrous look in her eyes. She’s probably thinking about her ex-husband again, the one she never got over. “You’ve just got to find it deep in you, Kyohei. It doesn’t have to come all at once. You shouldn’t be afraid of falling in love,” she encourages him as she gets up on her feet. “There’s something really beautiful out there for you to discover, Kyohei.”
He flushes a little red as he snorts and breaks himself another piece of chocolate. What does he feel? There are things he needs to figure out first. He isn’t even sure if they have much in common. He doesn’t feel like he knows Natsu as a person almost at all - his fears, loves and things he finds valuable. The same probably applies to Natsu. He has no idea what the man thinks of him.
“If you think he’s a good man, don’t let him go,” Nakahara whispers at him secretively and winks her eye with a slight grin. “You can never know if you’ll find someone as good again.”
She leaves him alone again. When the door snaps shut, Kyohei turns his head absently to stare down at the chocolate. So much of it. Sunako’s always been a bit anxious about how much she should give. Polite, nice and generous, she was. He smiles a bit as he picks up a postcard. It doesn’t have much writing and it’s very generic, but somehow it still makes him smile.
“I hope you’re good out there,” he mumbles quietly as he sets the card on his night stand and continues eating the chocolate a bit more happily. Belgian chocolate, huh… It is quite good, now that he thinks of it. Sunako is a lucky girl.
--
“What are you scared of?”
“Hm?” Natsu hums with a surprised tone, his eyebrows slightly raised. He’s got his mouth stuffed full of onigiri, making it difficult for him to articulate any precise thoughts. Kyohei chews on his own serving anxiously, uncaring of some of the rice getting spewed out.
“You’ve got to be scared of something,” he argues, wiping his chin hastily. The whole topic makes him nervous but he really wants to know. He doesn’t know if any of this will work out otherwise. “Like, I don’t know. Some kind of a complex.”
“I’m not really scared of anything,” Natsu shrugs thoughtfully. He’s peeling the seaweed carefully off with his fingers. “Hmm, maybe some kind of psychopathic murderers. I guess those would be scary.”
“Don’t be so superficial!” Kyohei objects sharply and steals the seaweed without a question. His stomach is growling and talking about touchy stuff makes him want to eat everything he can get his hands on, whether it’s meant to be eaten or not. “Something personal. Go on!”
“You’ve got rice there,” Natsu notes. He dodges the question as he leans in to brush it off with his finger. Something outside of the restaurant explodes. Kyohei’s so used to the screaming sound he doesn’t even flinch anymore. Natsu eats the rice from his finger and looks outside curiously, only to see the view from the windows almost completely covered by screaming, crying, laughing and fuming women. “You know, I’ve been wondering… what’s up with all the girls?”
Kyohei rolls his eyes and reaches over the table for Natsu’s hand. “Stalkers,” he assures the man seriously, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I’ve got tons.”
“You’re shitting with me,” Natsu teases him back and rocks on his chair a little to pull it forward so that he reaches to pat Kyohei’s knee under the table. “That many stalkers are just impossible to obtain. What have you done?”
“Seriously,” Kyohei insists with a snarky bark, snappily raising his knee so that Natsu’s hand crashes against the bottom of the table and he pulls it away with a pained moan. Well, he had that one coming. “It’s… I’ve been meaning to talk about it,” he mumbles, biting his lip anxiously. Natsu looks expectant and curious, glancing outside a bit. It’s making Kyohei feel seriously uneasy.
“If ever…” he begins with a cracking voice, not quite sure if he can find the right words. He’s never really had to talk about this, not awkwardly like this with someone who has no idea of the true ugliness of the situation. “They might… If they ever approach you, just ignore them. Or if they get aggressive, run. I don’t know. Just be careful. Some have done really awful things.”
“Hmm,” Natsu mumbles, stuffing his mouth with more onigiri. He looks like he’s listening, but Kyohei isn’t sure if he’s really hearing him at all. He looks like it’s no big deal at all, which probably indicates very well that he doesn’t understand it at all. “Sure. If I bother to run. I don’t run much for people.”
“It’s because of the way I look,” Kyohei tries to explain, starting to feel desperate. This is important. For him it is, it’s what has defined him since as early as he can remember. Even his kindergarten memories are flooded with people fighting over who gets to play with him. “It’s always been bad. It’s severed all of my relationships. My family didn’t speak to me properly for years.”
Natsu’s tilting his head thoughtfully as he examines his face, making Kyohei feel really naked. “Well… You do look stunning. I guess it happens. I mean, that’s… unexpectedly a lot, but, uh, I can get where they’re coming from.”
Kyohei’s stomach drops. He feels adrenaline rushing through his veins all of sudden, making his hands tremble. He pulls them on his lap to hide them as he furiously glares at his date that seems to have picked up on the change in mood. Not like he’d do anything about it, trying to look all innocent. Kyohei lets out a hollow laughter.
“You feel like you can relate to them, huh?” he asks Natsu snappily, feeling the dangerous growls coming out of his mouth unstoppably. “So, what? Had I not agreed to meet you so much, would you have stalked me too?”
“I don’t know,” Natsu shrugs as he takes a big chug of his coke. “Probably.”
Kyohei stands up, shaking in fury. He walks over to Natsu who’s looking up at him with a blank expression, almost as if waiting for what’s to come - a harsh punch straight in the face. Kyohei chuckles unhappily and shakes his head. “Stop screwing around!” he roars furiously, spit flying on the man’s face. “Not like you’d understand at all. Maybe you’re just the same then, huh.”
“Possibly,” Natsu answers him. He turns his head back to him, fringe in a messy disarray and cheek reddened. “I could be.” He says it so simply, like it’s the honest truth. Kyohei can’t stand to look at him so he turns his gaze away. He hasn’t felt angry like this in a long while.
He doesn’t bother saying more to the man; it isn’t like he would deserve it. He turns around on his heels and grinds his lips together as he storms out of the café. The pack of women squeals and screams behind him, making him almost turn around and beat them all into mush. He makes a run for it, yearning for some motherfucking privacy because he’s quite sure his head is nearly steaming and all of this shit is way beyond his capability to handle.
Also, there’s a tiny chance he might actually cry soon. It’s difficult not to when it feels like your entire body is about to just crumble away.
--
Life passes by excruciatingly slowly. Every day is dull - his new job sucks, he just gets to fill and deliver papers and encounter way too much eyeing in the advertisement office from the full-time employees, and a few too many intimate brushes or grabs too. He comes back home every day on a sour mood, unable to see the sparkle of happiness anywhere. It’s a pity that’s all people ever find him good for.
His housemates try to cheer him up the best they can. Takenaga serves him good food and Yukinojo plays card games with him more often than not and lets him vent all he wants after a particularly bad day. Sometimes he ends up venting about Natsu too - he hasn’t seen the man ever since he practically walked out on him. It’s all over probably now that the weeks slip by without either of them making contact.
Takenaga is at Noi’s place now, and Ranmaru is spending the night at the boarding house. They’ve all tucked Takeru to bed and decided to play cards late to the evening with a few bottles of beer to make the time pass faster. The cards are starting to look a bit fuzzy in front of Kyohei’s face and sometimes he has to bring them closer to see the numbers better.
The doorbell rings. Ranmaru, who is already out of the game, moves, wondering if it’s his fiancé for whatever reason it might be this time. Kyohei slams a card to the table triumphantly, feeling like a winner already. Yukinojo pouts on the other side of the table and flips through his cards.
“It’s for you, Kyohei,” Ranmaru’s voice calls out, making Kyohei turn his head around. Natsu stands next to the man, dripping water to the floor. His clothes are soaked through and his hair is practically glued to his skin as he blankly stares at Kyohei with his dark eyes. Kyohei’s stomach sinks and he jumps on his feet, spilling his cards on the table. The chair creaks as he kicks it back while shaking in fury and approaching the older man.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” he spits wrathfully and starts briskly walking towards the man. Ranmaru senses the approaching hurricane and backs away quickly. Natsu just stands still, his expression unchanging. “Can’t you just stay the fuck away, asshole!?”
He pushes Natsu’s shoulders, making him stagger back a few steps. He’s on his way to give him a second push when the man grabs him by the wrists and drains him of his momentum before pulling him in a tight hug. “Let go!” he roars furiously and tries to struggle away, feeling his heart hammering awfully in his chest. He can feel the older man draw in a shaky breath. He still isn’t talking, and the water that goes through his clothes is cold and disgusting.
Everyone’s staring at them quietly, exchanging worrying looks, probably wondering whether they should step in or not and if so, whom they should speak up for. Natsu buries his face in Kyohei’s shoulder and suddenly his body starts racking with the sobs he refuses to let out.
He shouldn’t feel guilty. Really, he shouldn’t. He doesn’t know what to think, though, what is going on or anything, and nothing makes sense at all. He hugs Natsu back tightly and feels himself melting a little, starting to worry. There’s something desperate and miserable about the man on levels he can’t even describe. He doubts even he ever looked so beaten and depressed. He’s always been a fighter. Natsu, well, he doesn’t really know.
“I’ll go get a towel,” Yukinojo speaks up gently before hurrying away. Ranmaru leaves too to collect some dry clothes from somewhere. Kyohei wants to speak up but nothing comes out. Natsu is clinging to him desperately, his fingers clenched to Kyohei’s shirt as his body shakes.
Maybe he does care after all, and maybe Natsu does too. He strokes the man’s mane and nape comfortingly and then there’s a pair of cold lips pressing against his hastily, not going deep and quivering like crazy. Natsu is getting sluggish, the look in his eyes hollow without a single sparkle of happiness. It’s scary.
“Here, here,” Yukinojo squeals hastily as he pushes the towel between the two of them. When Natsu doesn’t react, Kyohei wraps it around him and tries to pat him dry. “Strip,” he commands, feeling anxious and nervous but trying to brush the embarrassing feelings away. This has nothing to do with any stupid things like sex. This is about Natsu’s health - god knows how long he’s been out there in the pouring rain, and god knows about his immune system too.
Eventually they get Natsu in dry clothes. He sits on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his form and a relatively large cup of steaming tea in his hands. He’s reluctant to talk and Kyohei can tell that Ranmaru and Yukinojo are stalking them from the shadows or around the corner. There’s nothing he can do about that, though.
This situation… is extremely awkward. He sits on the other side of the couch with his knees drawn against his chest. Natsu isn’t looking at him at all. Kyohei has no idea why he’s even come here, what kind of great sudden idea made him turn up on his door step like a lost puppy.
“Are you warm?” he decides to finally break the silence with a simple question. Natsu’s form wavers a little and he raises the cup shakily to his lips to take a tiny sip without burning his tongue, but he doesn’t answer. Kyohei kicks him gently with his toes. “If you’re here, you might as well talk to me. What happened?”
“Nothing,” Natsu answers with a croak. The man draws in a long breath and lets his head fall limply on his right shoulder, away from Kyohei. He looks apathetic and thoughtful. It’s like there’s this gloomy cloud around him that just won’t let him go.
Kyohei gets up on his knees and crawls over to lean against the man’s now warmer form. Natsu flinches a little but Kyohei doesn’t budge. He doesn’t know what this is about. He wishes he knew. Then it’d be easier for him too. He doesn’t know if Natsu is just leading him on or if there’s really something here between them, and if they aren’t going to figure it out soon, they might lose everything before it all even begins.
It’s a scary thought. He almost wants to ignore all of it, just push it away to avoid the problem completely. He’s admittedly scared of love - life has taught him to be. It doesn’t stop him from having all these overwhelming emotions, though.
“I don’t know what you’re going at,” he finally mumbles, one hand wrapped around Natsu’s shoulders, “but you should stop it. Saying things you don’t mean, not saying the things you do mean… Why do you insist on making a mess to get yourself to the bottom?” he groans and turns to look at the man’s face. Natsu’s facial muscles are strained and the corner of his eye quivers anxiously. “You should stop trying to force yourself to a much lower level than you are and pursue the kind of you you’d want to live with.”
Natsu purses his lips and nods limply, not looking like he’s going to do anything Kyohei is trying to tell him to do at all. It’s frustrating and it makes him shake the man slightly from his shoulders. Natsu spills hot tea over his lap and gasps, but uncharacteristically doesn’t curse or moan.
“Do you love me?” Kyohei asks him bluntly. Natsu finally turns his head a bit to glance at him, a grimace on his face that makes him look like he’s rejecting Kyohei’s being with every inch of his body. “Do you even like me? Not for my face, not for my body. For me.”
There’s a swallow, and a lost look in Natsu’s eyes. He’s probably confused himself, just like Kyohei is. “Alright,” Kyohei mumbles disappointedly and rests his head on Natsu’s shoulder. “You don’t have to decide yet. Just start thinking about it, won’t you?”
“Do you like me?” Natsu asks him back, voice hollow and sorrowful. Kyohei feels adrenaline rushing to his veins, a flight reaction that strains his body. He cocks his head thoughtfully and purses his lips. He knows the answer. Whether he wants to admit it to the person in question, well, that’s another thing.
“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you,” Natsu finally sighs morosely, turning his head away from Kyohei who feels his heart pounding awfully loudly. His eyes narrow as he tries to understand what Natsu is getting at. It’s frustrating when the man is so insistent on not properly meeting him halfway. Natsu looks uncertain and anxious, ready to get up and walk back out into the rain as he chews his fingers.
“Me either,” Kyohei finally offers his sympathies and withdraws his arm from around the man’s shoulder. Natsu sinks into himself, hiding behind his fringe and the straight line of his lips. Kyohei feels himself forgiving Natsu for his tactless behaviour and notations. There’s no way he can judge him with the face he has.
He turns the man’s face around and kisses him on the lips surely. Suddenly Natsu is moving, and he’s moving fast. His moist lips attack Kyohei’s shoulder out of nowhere and his fingers slide down his inner thigh, alarmingly close to his crotch. Kyohei twists his torso around and aims a harsh punch on the man’s face to get him to back the hell away before he jumps off the bed with his eyes flaming hellfire. Natsu holds his chin with his hands, head lowered and bangs covering his dark eyes again. The man scoffs a bit and glares up at him defiantly, mouth open and face so relaxed it has to be artificial.
It’s ridiculous how miserable he manages to look when he acts all nonchalant. He’s swaying a bit, typically, and turning his head away as he rubs his injured chin. There’s a dark chuckle that rings in the room and it makes Kyohei’s body hair stand on edge. He’s prepared to flee.
“Does this make me a bad guy too?” Natsu questions him with a demeaning tone. He clicks his tongue and finally lets go of the tender red spot on his chin, his arms falling limply back on the couch. He looks like an immature child even if he’s already past his mid-thirties. “Getting serious with me sucks, doesn’t it? It’s fun when it’s all play, right. In reality you find me disgusting. You think you’re better than me.”
“I don’t do sex,” Kyohei defends himself furiously, feeling physically startled as Natsu slurs his mind’s worth of thoughts at him spitefully. Kyohei might be the one at fault here, he is the one overreacting and fighting all of this, as much as he wants to blame Natsu for everything. It’s infuriatingly ridiculous and he hates it. It’s not as if he wouldn’t have ever dated or had sex either - he did. Some years back, when he was still together with Sunako, they did eventually develop a sex life. It doesn’t change the fact that he feels like he can’t do it, like he doesn’t want to do it. The whole idea of him having sex with anyone disgusts him and makes him feel used. Natsu’s reaction to his refusal sure as hell isn’t convincing him otherwise. Even this whole setting is ridiculous; he isn’t going to go for it in the lounge. “I’m asexual.”
Natsu laughs. He throws his head back and eventually slumps against the corner. His laughter is wheezy and the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes as his lips curve into a mean smile. “I’ve felt your arousal,” he throws back. Kyohei sees red and throws a wooden block from the table at the man. Natsu’s arms shoot up to block the object from hitting his head. His laughter dies.
“Liar,” Natsu accuses him, tilting his chin up to show off his poise. “You could just say you’re not interested. Instead, you lead me on and come up with petty lies. Liar.”
Kyohei makes a lunge at him. After a brief struggle they crush down from the couch and Natsu punches him hard in the face. He sees stars as he fights back. Natsu spits blood at his face and he knees him between his legs to stop his wandering hands that are trying to unbutton his pants. When the man doubles over, face red and body trembling, he wipes the blood off his face and shoves the table over, spilling the rest of the blocks and a thick pile of magazines over the man’s coughing form.
“Ah, I’ve got to leave then,” Natsu finally breathes from the floor as Kyohei stomps towards the door and pulls it open, uncaring of the rain that starts wetting the floor. Kyohei turns around and stares at Natsu coldly as the man warily sits up from under the pile of junk. His hair is tousled and he looks harmless and abused, blood staining his lips and bruise forming over his left cheekbone. It strikes Kyohei hard, reminding him of himself during his darkest times just before he left home. That look on him… he knows the depressed feelings and thoughts behind it.
None of that changes anything, though. “Maybe if you treated people right, someone would actually care about you,” he shoots cruelly at the man. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t fully mean what he’s saying right now, none of this does. He’s too angry to care. “If you don’t like yourself, there’s nothing there for others to like either!”
Natsu doesn’t answer. He purses his lips together and looks up at the ceiling, acting drunkenly even though he probably hasn’t had a single sip because no smell of alcohol lingers around him. Kyohei forces his legs to move and approaches the man threateningly without a further word.
“Don’t throw me out,” Natsu pleads him hoarsely, sitting motionlessly on the floor. “Don’t make me go. Let me stay with you,” the man tries gasping weakly and apathetically as Kyohei yanks him up on his feet. He holds the man by his biceps as Natsu looks down at him, refusing to turn his gaze away. He’s kind of scary.
“It’s pouring, Kyohei!” a shaky chime suddenly comes in from nowhere, making Kyohei turn his head snappily. Of course - privacy, who the fuck cares about that when it comes to him?
Yukinojo and Ranmaru break them apart, Ranmaru holding his arms behind his back while Yukinojo drags Natsu a safe distance away. “THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU!” Kyohei roars at his friends, unable to comprehend how they can’t stand up for him in case they really have to interfere with his problems.
Takeru walks down the stairs too, dressed up in his pyjamas and rubbing his sleepy eyes. “What’s going on?” he asks and Kyohei trembles in Ranmaru’s hold. He just wants to get away. All of this is making him feel like shit - a mixture of embarrassment, shame, rage, desperation and loneliness. He’s the black sheep of the house, after all.
“Takasugi is going to stay for the night,” Yukinojo announces and tries to hurry the man up the stairs too, but Natsu shoves him away to free himself and turns around, staring at Kyohei meaningfully. He feels cold sweat forming in his fists.
“It’s his decision,” Natsu states, making everyone stare at him.
It’s understandable. If he decides to want Natsu gone, the man has no further business here after all. This is it - his moment to either take a leap of faith or cowardly back away. His throat feels tight and he isn’t able to open his mouth, to answer to the man. The pressure gets heavier.
“It’s raining, Kyohei!” Takeru reminds him. Kyohei turns his head to glance at the opened door. There’s a puddle of rainwater on the floor now, slippery and dangerous. The weather forecast had promised thunder. His lips twitch. “Don’t be an idiot!”
“You can’t make him go out in the rain again,” Ranmaru commands him reasonably. Kyohei can imagine his facial expression even if he can’t see it. He bites his lip and tries to struggle to get away but the man doesn’t let go. “It’s pouring.”
“This has nothing to do with the rain,” Natsu growls dangerously, cocking his head back. He looks superior now, eyes cold as he waits for Kyohei to confess something, anything. He probably hasn’t transmitted his feelings properly to the other man. It’s not his forté.
The man starts walking forward and Yukinojo covers his face with his hands, preparing himself for the worst. Natsu stops before Kyohei. There’s the strange sensation again, the one that makes him painfully aware of Natsu’s figure before him and pulls him in like a magnet. Natsu raises his chin and looks into his eyes, searching for something. Kyohei tries his hardest not to blush.
“…I’m going then,” he finally murmurs after a long silence later as he withdraws. Kyohei feels helpless as he stares at him, sees him back away in that slouchy, wavy way of his. “I’ll mail the clothes back. Thank you for lending them to me,” he directs his words to Kyohei’s friends and bows a little. Takeru looks like this isn’t how he wants this to go. No one does.
Ranmaru lets him go. Yukinojo is glaring at him with teary eyes, which is ridiculous because it’s not like this has anything to do with him. Natsu pulls his shoes back on and makes his way out of the door without looking back. He closes the door after him, leaving Kyohei standing motionlessly, frozen in shock.
Isn’t it bad enough to have to go through a break-up kind of separation once? Why does he have to do this twice?! He yanks his hair furiously and curses, unable to keep it all in anymore. It’s coming out of nowhere, that horrible feeling, making him feel like his world is ending and there’s absolutely no reason to go on anymore because there’s nothing to look forward to. Not with his life.
“You’re an idiot,” Yukinojo hisses at him before stomping his way loudly upstairs. Ranmaru lets out a disappointed sigh and Takeru sniffs quietly, unable to even voice how disappointed he is. Kyohei bites his lips together shakily and proceeds to clean up the mess he left with the table and all.
“You’re going to regret that one,” Ranmaru finally notes before walking away too. Takeru stays behind, hugging the staircase pillar. He might be older now, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still just a child. He shouldn’t see all of this. Kyohei wonders when he’ll get kicked out for the trouble and inappropriate behaviour he engages in under the house owner’s son’s watching eyes.
After a while, the small boy runs to him and shoves him to the shoulder, making him fall over. He’s sniffing and there are wet lines drawn on his face. He looks angry too as Kyohei glances up at him, feeling his form tremble. He kind of wants to hug the kid, but that would probably earn him an angry punch.
“Why aren’t you running after him!?” Takeru finally shouts at him. “You’re so stupid, Kyohei! You like him and he likes you too! Stop being difficult!”
“Stop telling me what I feel,” Kyohei tries to argue against the kid but gets shoved all the way down on the floor again. “Ouch,” he mumbles sadly and feels Takeru pulling on his shirt. The kid is determined. “Leave me alone!”
“Go after him before he really will be gone!” Takeru insists. “You hurt his feelings! You need to go and apologize -”
“He hurt my feelings!” Kyohei yells, trying to make his voice audible over the small boy’s roaring. “He’s an ass!”
“If he hurt your feelings, you obviously had feelings for him!”
It hits him under the belt, silencing him. Yes, he did. He did have feelings. It doesn’t change anything. He has no idea what Natsu feels for him and everything is so complicated. Nothing works, they’re constantly fighting and avoiding each other.
“He liked you for who you are, Kyohei,” Takeru sniffs, pouting and wiping tears from his cheeks. “He was special. After Sunako you haven’t had anyone like that. So don’t be stupid now and let it go just because you’re being stupid -”
Kyohei makes a dash at the door, yanks it open and runs off into the rain. “NATSU!” he bellows, trying to make his voice audible over the rain as he wonders which direction he should run into. He thinks he sees a silhouette somewhere far away in the distance, walking away from the large premises of the mansion. He runs after it as fast as he can, feeling the raindrops hitting his face like tiny shards of icy glass. Why does he always end up running after the people he likes like a complete idiot? “NATSU, STOP!” he roars louder, starting to feel out of breath. The figure doesn’t turn around. “NATSU!”
The man only turns around when they reach the gates and he’s five metres away from him. He grabs the man’s shoulder as he leans to his knees breathlessly, feeling sweat and rainwater running down his forehead. Natsu looks angry and at a loss of words, not fully pleased with Kyohei running after him.
Kyohei pulls him into a kiss, wrapping his arms around the older man. Their soaked clothes get glued together as Natsu answers him and Kyohei clings to him, afraid of breaking apart. He fears Natsu will leave after all, tell him he’s the slyest bitch he’s ever come across during his lifetime. He’d probably at least partially deserve that one.
“Be clear with me,” Natsu demands him, yelling over the heavy rain. “You can’t change your mind every five minutes!”
“I LIKE YOU!” Kyohei roars back, gripping the man’s sides tightly. His knees feel weak and there are ridiculous butterflies in his stomach that aren’t pleasant or funny at all. “IF YOU WOULD STOP ASSUMINGTHINGS ON YOUR OWN -”
“DON’T MAKE THIS MY FAULT!” Natsu bellows back at him, tugging him closer from the hair. It hurts a little but it doesn’t matter as Natsu’s moist odour invades his senses again. He’s attracted, undeniably so. It’s a scary thing.
They make their way back inside, sniffing and shaking from the cold. Everyone seems to have disappeared, or maybe they’re just lurking in the shadows once again, keeping a gossipy eye on them. Kyohei helps Natsu to his room and strips him down before their crawl to the bed in college trousers and t-shirts, snuggling together more boldly than before.
After that, things get a bit better.
--
Weeks pass by pleasantly. He’s fired from his job once again, adding another profession to his growing list of ex-professions. Natsu is busy recording songs for his upcoming album and practising but he lets Kyohei come along sometimes. The manager grinds her teeth every time but lets him stay. Once after a couple of drinks, she admits it’s because it improves everyone’s performance, even if it makes Natsu more smug and argumentative.
Then there are weekends when they’re both off university and jobs, spending days together just lazing around. It’s comfortable. He enjoys the way Natsu’s affectionate personality shows when he doesn’t feel threatened: how his hands thread through Kyohei’s short hair and how he quietly holds him physically close. It doesn’t have the feeling of arousal as Kyohei rests his back against Natsu’s chest and enjoys the feeling one of his arms thoughtfully wrapped around his waist and one buried in his locks. Natsu is soft and warm and Kyohei wonders how attentive he is with the cliché Japanese drama starring Kimura Takuya that’s playing on the TV. Everyone else has disappeared somewhere long ago already after giving each other long, meaningful looks. Typical.
Neither of them reacts to the doorbell when it rings. If anything, Natsu takes the opportunity to pull him just a little closer again and cuddles into Kyohei’s nape, proving his suspicions of the man not following the drama properly. “You’re so annoying,” Kyohei grumbles and jabs his elbow under Natsu’s ribcage, managing to emerge a pained huff from him. “Stop coming onto me!”
“It’s not my fault the drama is boring,” Natsu defends himself matter-of-factly, stretching his body over the armrest. “I can’t stay focused and I’m getting bored.”
He already knows what happens when Natsu gets bored, there’s no need to elaborate that. He turns around with his hands supporting his weight on the armrest on both sides of Natsu’s head. “You should’ve said so, we could’ve done something else,” he accuses. It feels a bit half-hearted, though. To be honest, he got bored enough with the show ages ago as well. He just didn’t want the enjoyable intimacy to end just yet.
They end up sharing a languid kiss, Natsu’s lips rising to meet his. Natsu feels a bit flushed beneath him as he parts his lips to brush his tongue against Kyohei’s lips, asking for entrance. It’s moist and soft, the way they kiss. There’s chemistry between them and it feels satisfying when Natsu insistently tries to devour him, wants just a little bit more of him.
They break apart, faces still close. Natsu’s lips peck at his chin and his neck, his hands settling on his hips to guide him down a bit. Kyohei is just about to open his mouth to spit venomous, accusing words at his boyfriend when Yukinojo’s voice calls out for him. When he sits up on Natsu’s lap, Yukinojo steps inside the room accompanied by his mother. “You have a guest,” Yukinojo tells him cheerfully as Kyohei flushes scarlet and clumsily searches for the remote to turn the TV off - there’s no way he’s letting his mum think he watches soap operas.
“Mum,” he finally chokes as he succeeds and hastily makes his way over to hug her hello. Natsu jumps up too, his eyes widened and body alert all of a sudden. The man tidies up his hair and makes his way over, stopping next to Kyohei before bowing down. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Takano,” he greets briskly. Kyohei raises his eyebrows suspiciously, not having come across that tone of voice yet. It kind of unsettles him.
“Afternoon,” Kyohei’s mother greets him a bit hesitantly, her head bowing politely too. Kyohei kicks Natsu to the shin to make him straighten up. The man fidgets as he stands, posture straight. He looks silly like it.
Kyohei… hasn’t told his parents. He isn’t sure if he wants to, either, and Natsu is being so painfully transparent it’s getting ridiculous. When his father joins them he shakes his hand and his father notes jokingly on his sweaty hand, making Natsu’s cheeks burn vibrantly. Kyohei feels like he’s gotten stuck in a scary soap opera.
Natsu gets along well with his parents. First it’s really awkward and stiff and his parents look calculative and disapproving, probably picking on the unmentioned relationship the two of them share. Kyohei’s father questions Natsu about his age and profession and whatnot when his mother asks him to help him out with the dinner preparations.
“He’s a fine man,” his mother chimes shakily at him and tries a smile. Her laughter rings in the air, making Kyohei want to break down and cry but he doesn’t. He doesn’t know whether his mother means it or not. After all these years, he still can’t tell when she’s just saying things without meaning them. He’s always so painfully oblivious. “Bring him over some time, won’t you? I’ll talk with your father.”
“I don’t know,” Kyohei admits hesitantly, glancing at the table where his father looks at Natsu with a blank face as the younger man attempts to discuss something to the brick wall before him. “He doesn’t look happy.”
“He’s just concerned. The man’s almost our age,” his mother laughs again breathlessly as she prepares the rice while Kyohei chops the cucumber slowly and messily. “I know we haven’t really shown it well in years, but we’re very protective of you, Kyohei. I’m sure you can understand that. It might take a while.”
“…Hmm.” Kyohei nods and tries to smile at his mother, even if it ends up half-hearted. “We’re not dating. Not really,” he decides to point out, just in case it makes the situation any better. His mother stirs the rice and walks over to help him with the vegetables.
“Do you want to?” she asks him gently, looking him meaningfully in the eyes. Kyohei cocks his head a bit in wonder, not really voicing out his thoughts. His mother runs her fingers through his hair fondly. “We’ll get ready for it then.”
Kyohei feels grateful as he smiles at his mother sadly. After all these years, he’s still causing trouble, no matter how hard he tries to just meet his parents’ expectations. Perhaps one day it doesn’t have to be that way. Or maybe one day he’ll learn that it doesn’t matter that much, as long as he feels happy himself.
--
“Do you want to know it?” Noi asks him one day at the university while they wait for the others to join them for lunch. “Natsu’s complex,” she specifies the topic and Kyohei snorts a bit. He doesn’t - Natsu doesn’t really talk about it. He isn’t really in for the talking thing when it implies pouring one’s heart out for the other one about biggest fears and whatnots. He’s still holding onto his mighty mask, even after all the times he’s completely broken down before him.
“How would you know it?” he throws a snarky question to the girl, glaring at her with pursed lips. She giggles a little as she sits down on the chair besides his, resting her elbow to the table. Sometimes, Kyohei thinks, she’s downright scary.
“I’m a fan,” she admits and squeals excitedly. “I’ve read things from papers. Plus I’ve listened to his songs. You haven’t really thought about the origins of all of his lyrics, have you?” she teases him. Kyohei snorts and argues back, even if his words are complete bullshit.
“There were rumours back when Natsu’s old band really rocked the charts,” she tells him while digging for a magazine from her school purse. “About their second manager who was just a student back then. She was with them for quite a while before she apparently quit.”
“Do magazines really care about that stuff?” Kyohei scoffs, feeling a bit hesitant about this. Sometimes Noi’s ‘factual points’ are completely irrelevant and stupid. He wonders if this one is too, or if she’s actually got a point somewhere.
“Ah, found it!” she yells and slams the magazine on the table before him. There’s a grainy black and white picture too. He can recognize Natsu, a bit younger than now. He doesn’t recognize the woman walking beside him, the one he has his arm around.
“There was talk about a possible love affair,” Noi gossips knowingly. Kyohei glances at the article curiously, feeling weird that Natsu’s life can be read from magazines just like that. “But she left him, and the whole band too. She just walked away.”
“…Uh huh,” Kyohei mumbles, not quite sure if he should believe the vague story or not. Noi turns his head to look straight at her and he groans. “What?” he whines and slaps her hand away gently. He wouldn’t dare to hurt Takenaga’s girlfriend, not unless he’d nurture a death wish.
“He’s afraid of not being good enough, Kyohei,” she tells him slowly and deliberately as if he wasn’t able to understand normal speech. Kyohei grimaces. He’s not that stupid. “So you’ve got to make sure you treat him well!” she nags and pats his nose. Kyohei purses his lips and turns his head away, scratching his nape. She laughs.
“Seriously, though,” she sighs as she tucks the magazine back in her bag. “He’s not in speaking terms with his family either. Hasn’t been since there’s been a public word about it,” she smiles sadly at him. “I think you might have more in common than you’ve even realised yet.”
“Hmm,” Kyohei nods, feeling avoidant and quiet. He rocks a bit on his chair as they wait for the others. Noi starts fixing her make up when he falls deep in thought, pondering about the truthfulness of the article and public gossip about Natsu’s private life.
Whether it’s true or not, it doesn’t matter right now. One day, Natsu might tell it to him himself. Before that, what happened or didn’t happen is irrelevant.
--
“I’m ready,” he tells the older man huskily after pressing moist and heated kisses on the man’s throat and caressing his naked chest with his palms. Natsu stares at him with half-lidded and hazy eyes. He feels lusty underneath him when his hips gently undulate and his body arches to his touch.
“Good,” Natsu sighs, breathing out shakily as he lays his hands on Kyohei’s hips. “Because sex is part of the deal.” Kyohei scoffs and silences him with yet another steamy kiss as he starts unbuttoning Natsu’s trousers, feeling the insistent bulge waiting for the attention that has been denied for too long already.
Natsu’s body is hot. Tiny droplets of sweat have formed all over his body and his mouth hangs open as Kyohei pushes deeper, listens to the desperate moan he emits from the older man. He wipes the man’s fringe away from his eyes and flexes his body over him to slide upwards for a kiss while his hips push against the soft flesh. Natsu looks beautifully dishevelled as he presses Kyohei’s sides with his knees before Kyohei helps him to support the man’s torso’s weight with his arms, cocooning Natsu’s curled up form against him as he pulls out a little again.
“Date me,” Kyohei murmurs to the older man while the pleasant shivers rack his form. He’s unable to stop the words from forming on his tongue as the hormones flood his system, sending him to much higher clouds than he can ever recall encountering. His next rock is a bit more insistent, a bit more certain. Natsu’s hot breath against his hypersensitive ear makes it all the better.
“Took you long enough~” Natsu tries to tease him but he jolts his hips more urgently, hitting a spot that makes the man gasp and whimper helplessly. He smirks, finally feeling like he has the upper hand. “Faster,” Natsu demands, rocking against his hips insistently, a needy groan leaving his throat. “There.”
Kyohei chuckles at him and kisses him as he picks up more speed to the rhythm. The headboard bangs against the wall, but he doesn’t care. All that matters is here and now and that, if something, is finally absolutely amazing.