Love letter: Chapter 6/7
Love letter: Chapter 6/7
Kitayama/Fujigaya, Nikaido/Senga, Yokoo/Fujigaya (onesided)
It's after that, that Fujigaya starts choosing Yokoo over Kitayama. Which Kitayama doesn't mind, at first, because he agrees that friends should be prioritized over lovers, in most cases. After all, if his relationship was to end, a thought he doesn't want to think of but has considered many times in his life, he would want to have his friends and their support. And he assumes that Fujigaya thinks the same.
Also, he would never want to split Fujigaya and Yokoo up. Their friendship is theirs, and he has nothing to do with it unless it's for group purposes. So on one hand, he's happy when Fujigaya takes more time to be with Yokoo. He can see it on them as well, especially Yokoo, he's seems visibly happier when Fujigaya accepts his invitations for shopping or movies or whatever it might be.
But on the other hand, he starts feeling a little lonely. They're both very busy, it has been hard to fit in private time into their schedules from the beginning, but Kitayama starts feeling like if he doesn't actively ask Fujigaya to be with him, he doesn't make time for him. As though Fujigaya either has no perception of balance, or that he doesn't want to be with Kitayama, that he prefers Yokoo's company over his boyfriend's. Some weeks he barely sees Fujigaya's face - not that odd considering their jobs, but then he hears about the dinner he had with Yokoo the other day, a day they could actually have done something together.
Still, when Fujigaya crawls into bed next to him, everything is fine. He's there, warm and reassuring, skin against skin, calm breaths and whispered words, and he forgets about feeling put aside. At least for a while.
-
He tries to be patient, tells himself that Fujigaya just needs to redeem his time with Yokoo, that it will go back to feeling like he's not the one that gets chosen when the first choice is busy. He's able to stand it for a month or so, but when Fujigaya shows up at his apartment late one night, happily telling Kitayama about his day and the fantastic dinner he had with Yokoo, something just snaps. Maybe it shouldn't, maybe he's far too sensitive, but he can't help it. He speaks up.
“What am I to you? Really?” he asks from the kitchen table as he puts his phone down.
Fujigaya looks perplexed. “You... are my boyfriend? My colleague? A big part of my life?”
“Pity he gets more of your time, then.” Kitayama is aware he sounds annoyed, but it's the truth. He is annoyed.
“... Are you talking about Wataru?” Fujigaya looks hurt, but there's something else written on his face too. Insecurity, if Kitayama isn't mistaken. “I...”
“You what?”
“I don't want you to bring him into this.”
“Why not? I think he's a very big part of why I feel set aside.” He waits until Fujigaya has sat down right in front of him. “Did he tell you he was jealous or something?”
“Not really. He did say he missed doing things with me.” Not that odd. But Kitayama continues anyway.
“So you threw everything else aside to be with him?”
“Not everything,” and now Fujigaya sounds pleading. “You're the one I... I always come back to you?”
“You know what you're making it sound like?” He pauses, sees the insecurity grow in Fujigaya's eyes.
“Like I'd rather be with him.” Fujigaya pushes the words out of himself, breaks their eye-contact to look away. “But that's not true, you want me, you love me, and...”
A heavy stone finds it place hanging from Kitayama's heartstrings, making him feel heavy on the inside, like his heart might be about to burst but not quite. Because he realizes what's going on.
“And he doesn't. That's what this is about, isn't it? You're in love with him. Not me.”
“Mitsu, no, I... I would never, never get into a relationship without any feelings. Believe me.” Part of Kitayama does believe him, because all this time and Fujigaya hasn't had any steady partners. Perhaps there is some kind of romantic feelings for him somewhere in there. However it cannot change that they are most likely over-shadowed.
“If he told you he wants you, what would you do? Would you stay with me?”
“That is not a fair question.”
Kitayama knows, but he also thinks he sees the answer on Fujigaya's face. “Would you?”
“He wouldn't, though.”
“So you're with me because he won't.” Silence. “Get out of here, please.”
“Are you breaking up with me?”
That is the only thing that makes Kitayama feel a little better. The tone in Fujigaya's voice as he asks that question, because he genuinely sounds like he doesn't want them to break up.
“I don't know. Just get out.”
Fujigaya is already on his feet when he answers. “I'll tell him what I feel.”
“Yeah go ahead, maybe you'll finally be able to let go when he tells you no.” He says it with sarcasm turned all the way up, because hell, no one would refuse if Fujigaya Taisuke would confess his love to them, yet he knows that somewhere inside of himself, he's wishing for it.
“Maybe. Maybe that's what I need. I was getting certain, though. That I'll never be happy with him like I am with you.”
“Shut up.” It comes out a bit too rough, but Kitayama can't handle Fujigaya's sappy romance in a situation like this. And although he's content to hear footsteps die out and his front door close, he doesn't sleep a lot that night.
-
A tense couple of days follow, days that slowly, slowly turn into one week, and they don't speak more than necessary. Kitayama wants to, finds himself with fingers on his phone screen, ready to send him a message but stops himself as soon as he realizes it. Not because they've broken up; he still doesn't think they have. He hopes they haven't. It's a vague situation, but it had seemed on Fujigaya like he wasn't happy about the outcome, either. The reason he doesn't send him anything, is because he wants to give him time, as though he wishes that Fujigaya will realize what he's losing once it's gone. Even if it's only temporarily.
So when his phone buzzes to alert him of a mail (and his heart skips a beat) and he finds that it's Fujigaya's name on the screen (his heart skips another beat), he's at first not sure if he wants to open it. But he does, and there's three small words on the screen, words that make him even more uncertain.
“I'm so sorry.”
Kitayama freezes completely, can't seem to move, because he has no idea what Fujigaya is apologizing for. Is it for how he acted before? Is he trying to make up? Or is it over, did Yokoo agree to being with him? He had counted on Fujigaya to at least not be cryptic, to say it straight to his face if he wants to end what they have, but this tells him nothing, except that Fujigaya is regretting something.
He jumps a little when the phone vibrates again, and he exhales a breath he wasn't aware he was holding when he opens it. They are okay. Kitayama is okay. As okay as he can be, when Fujigaya isn't.
“Help.”
It takes him less than a couple of seconds to decide what to do, subconsciously more than not so; he closes his mail app and dials Fujigaya. He would rather hear his voice than read what he has to say, and when Fujigaya picks up he's a hundred percent sure he made the right choice.
All he hears is elevated breathing and sniffling sounds, and he waits. While he doesn't check the clock, Kitayama is quite sure five minutes of silence passes before Fujigaya even tries to speak, and when he does, his voice is thick with tears.
“I...” he starts, pauses to cough once, “I told him.”
“Yeah?” Of course he did.
“He said he'll never see me in that way.” If it's the way Fujigaya says it, or the words themselves, Kitayama isn't sure, but it stings inside of him to hear. He can only imagine if it had been himself hearing those words; he'd be in the same state as Fujigaya currently is, without any doubts, at least after having gotten his hopes up. He supposes that's what has happened. That Fujigaya started hoping when Yokoo demanded his attention.
Which burns in his heart to think about; if Fujigaya started hoping for it even though he had decided to be with Kitayama, then what does Kitayama mean to him? Yet he also understands, in a way, because he recalls the times he has dated others, despite his feelings for his group member, and he knows that had he had a partner that time in the kitchen, when Fujigaya kissed him like his life depended on it, he would have thrown it all away if Fujigaya had just asked him to. And Fujigaya hadn't even demanded his attention like Yokoo must have.
The crying doesn't cease; if anything it grows stronger as Kitayama stays silent, and he makes another drastic decision.
“Taisuke, can I come to your place?” At first he only gets sniffles back, then a low hum, and he assumes it's an agreeing one.
“Please,” and Fujigaya's voice breaks as he speaks.
Kitayama is already on his way out the door when he hangs up; he suggested that they stay connected over the phone, but Fujigaya had disagreed. The ride to Fujigaya's place seems like it takes forever, yet he's there within thirty minutes and when he lets himself inside the apartment, he's met by red, swollen eyes. No tears, but he has never seen Fujigaya this miserable and it twists something inside of him so much that he barely gets his shoes off before he's pulling him into an embrace.
“Shh,” he whispers as Fujigaya breaks out into tears again, sobbing against the side of Kitayama's head. “Come, talk to me.”
Although it's Fujigaya's apartment it's Kitayama that leads him to the couch, wipes his cheek with his thumb when it's obvious that he's trying to stop crying.
“I told him,” Fujigaya says again, just like on the phone, but this time he doesn't stop there. “I told him that I have had feelings for him. That I still do, to some extent.”
“I know.” It hurts to agree, but he wants Fujigaya to keep on talking.
“And he doesn't. I knew he doesn't. But I thought that if I heard him say it, I could be able to take that final step. Like you said.”
“Can I ask you something?” When Fujigaya nods, he continues. “What do you feel for him? Right now?”
There's a longer silence before he gets any answer; as if Fujigaya is thinking of a way to tell Kitayama without hurting him too much. And that's exactly why he's surprised when he hears it.
“I was in love with him. I was. But I constantly tried to move on. Really. And then, when we finally got into this, something steady, something safe and secure that felt good in all ways, that's when he came wanting my attention. And I just couldn't tell him no, you know?”
It hurts, but at the same time Kitayama understands. If you've loved someone, there is usually some kind of affection for them left in your heart, unless they've hurt or traumatized you. And it lingers more if it happens to be a person you never got to be with, because it doesn't get to a final point if you're the only one. If it hadn't been for that, Kitayama would have been over Fujigaya years ago.
“It just felt so unfair.”
Kitayama can't entirely hide the bitterness in his voice. “It was unfair.”
Again, to his surprise, tears start running from Fujigaya's eyes; he hides his face in his hands as he sobs.
“I was shocked you even read my message,” he admits, voice weaker than Kitayama has probably ever heard it. “I almost thought we were over.”
“Of course I'd read it. I care about you.” He lays an arm around Fujigaya's shoulders, carefully, but when he doesn't shy away from it, he pulls him a little bit closer.
“I,” Fujigaya tries to wipe his face dry with his sleeve, “I don't want to lose you.”
And it hits Kitayama that Fujigaya isn't crying because Yokoo has broken his heart. He's crying because he's afraid.
“Baby.” It's entirely without thinking that he speaks, that he pulls Fujigaya into his arms and lets him sob against his shoulder. “Getting rid of me isn't that easy.” They stay silent for a moment, as silent as it gets when Fujigaya won't stop shaking. “You know, I believed you. When you said you wouldn't get into a relationship without feeling anything.”
“I wouldn't,” Fujigaya whispers as he pulls back, “but even if you were told that, I'm sure most people would...”
“Well, I'm not most people. Maybe I'm easy, but as long as you want me, I'm yours.”
At that, Fujigaya smiles a little. “Yeah. You are pretty easy.”
It's just a hint of happiness, but it means all the difference to Kitayama when that hint blossoms out into a fuzzy warmth inside his chest, and he knows that even though it has been painful, he'd rather get past it with Fujigaya by his side, than without him.
“I trust you,” he repeats as leans back, “but I've still been hurt. I just... I don't want to have been hurt for nothing.” It's as if those words flick a switch inside Fujigaya, and although still red and irritated, there's a strength in his eyes.
“I'll prove it to you.” A part of him wants to sigh, because Fujigaya is such a hopeless romantic, but it's that romantic he also happens to be hopelessly in love with.
Next chapter
Kitayama/Fujigaya, Nikaido/Senga, Yokoo/Fujigaya (onesided)
It's after that, that Fujigaya starts choosing Yokoo over Kitayama. Which Kitayama doesn't mind, at first, because he agrees that friends should be prioritized over lovers, in most cases. After all, if his relationship was to end, a thought he doesn't want to think of but has considered many times in his life, he would want to have his friends and their support. And he assumes that Fujigaya thinks the same.
Also, he would never want to split Fujigaya and Yokoo up. Their friendship is theirs, and he has nothing to do with it unless it's for group purposes. So on one hand, he's happy when Fujigaya takes more time to be with Yokoo. He can see it on them as well, especially Yokoo, he's seems visibly happier when Fujigaya accepts his invitations for shopping or movies or whatever it might be.
But on the other hand, he starts feeling a little lonely. They're both very busy, it has been hard to fit in private time into their schedules from the beginning, but Kitayama starts feeling like if he doesn't actively ask Fujigaya to be with him, he doesn't make time for him. As though Fujigaya either has no perception of balance, or that he doesn't want to be with Kitayama, that he prefers Yokoo's company over his boyfriend's. Some weeks he barely sees Fujigaya's face - not that odd considering their jobs, but then he hears about the dinner he had with Yokoo the other day, a day they could actually have done something together.
Still, when Fujigaya crawls into bed next to him, everything is fine. He's there, warm and reassuring, skin against skin, calm breaths and whispered words, and he forgets about feeling put aside. At least for a while.
-
He tries to be patient, tells himself that Fujigaya just needs to redeem his time with Yokoo, that it will go back to feeling like he's not the one that gets chosen when the first choice is busy. He's able to stand it for a month or so, but when Fujigaya shows up at his apartment late one night, happily telling Kitayama about his day and the fantastic dinner he had with Yokoo, something just snaps. Maybe it shouldn't, maybe he's far too sensitive, but he can't help it. He speaks up.
“What am I to you? Really?” he asks from the kitchen table as he puts his phone down.
Fujigaya looks perplexed. “You... are my boyfriend? My colleague? A big part of my life?”
“Pity he gets more of your time, then.” Kitayama is aware he sounds annoyed, but it's the truth. He is annoyed.
“... Are you talking about Wataru?” Fujigaya looks hurt, but there's something else written on his face too. Insecurity, if Kitayama isn't mistaken. “I...”
“You what?”
“I don't want you to bring him into this.”
“Why not? I think he's a very big part of why I feel set aside.” He waits until Fujigaya has sat down right in front of him. “Did he tell you he was jealous or something?”
“Not really. He did say he missed doing things with me.” Not that odd. But Kitayama continues anyway.
“So you threw everything else aside to be with him?”
“Not everything,” and now Fujigaya sounds pleading. “You're the one I... I always come back to you?”
“You know what you're making it sound like?” He pauses, sees the insecurity grow in Fujigaya's eyes.
“Like I'd rather be with him.” Fujigaya pushes the words out of himself, breaks their eye-contact to look away. “But that's not true, you want me, you love me, and...”
A heavy stone finds it place hanging from Kitayama's heartstrings, making him feel heavy on the inside, like his heart might be about to burst but not quite. Because he realizes what's going on.
“And he doesn't. That's what this is about, isn't it? You're in love with him. Not me.”
“Mitsu, no, I... I would never, never get into a relationship without any feelings. Believe me.” Part of Kitayama does believe him, because all this time and Fujigaya hasn't had any steady partners. Perhaps there is some kind of romantic feelings for him somewhere in there. However it cannot change that they are most likely over-shadowed.
“If he told you he wants you, what would you do? Would you stay with me?”
“That is not a fair question.”
Kitayama knows, but he also thinks he sees the answer on Fujigaya's face. “Would you?”
“He wouldn't, though.”
“So you're with me because he won't.” Silence. “Get out of here, please.”
“Are you breaking up with me?”
That is the only thing that makes Kitayama feel a little better. The tone in Fujigaya's voice as he asks that question, because he genuinely sounds like he doesn't want them to break up.
“I don't know. Just get out.”
Fujigaya is already on his feet when he answers. “I'll tell him what I feel.”
“Yeah go ahead, maybe you'll finally be able to let go when he tells you no.” He says it with sarcasm turned all the way up, because hell, no one would refuse if Fujigaya Taisuke would confess his love to them, yet he knows that somewhere inside of himself, he's wishing for it.
“Maybe. Maybe that's what I need. I was getting certain, though. That I'll never be happy with him like I am with you.”
“Shut up.” It comes out a bit too rough, but Kitayama can't handle Fujigaya's sappy romance in a situation like this. And although he's content to hear footsteps die out and his front door close, he doesn't sleep a lot that night.
-
A tense couple of days follow, days that slowly, slowly turn into one week, and they don't speak more than necessary. Kitayama wants to, finds himself with fingers on his phone screen, ready to send him a message but stops himself as soon as he realizes it. Not because they've broken up; he still doesn't think they have. He hopes they haven't. It's a vague situation, but it had seemed on Fujigaya like he wasn't happy about the outcome, either. The reason he doesn't send him anything, is because he wants to give him time, as though he wishes that Fujigaya will realize what he's losing once it's gone. Even if it's only temporarily.
So when his phone buzzes to alert him of a mail (and his heart skips a beat) and he finds that it's Fujigaya's name on the screen (his heart skips another beat), he's at first not sure if he wants to open it. But he does, and there's three small words on the screen, words that make him even more uncertain.
“I'm so sorry.”
Kitayama freezes completely, can't seem to move, because he has no idea what Fujigaya is apologizing for. Is it for how he acted before? Is he trying to make up? Or is it over, did Yokoo agree to being with him? He had counted on Fujigaya to at least not be cryptic, to say it straight to his face if he wants to end what they have, but this tells him nothing, except that Fujigaya is regretting something.
He jumps a little when the phone vibrates again, and he exhales a breath he wasn't aware he was holding when he opens it. They are okay. Kitayama is okay. As okay as he can be, when Fujigaya isn't.
“Help.”
It takes him less than a couple of seconds to decide what to do, subconsciously more than not so; he closes his mail app and dials Fujigaya. He would rather hear his voice than read what he has to say, and when Fujigaya picks up he's a hundred percent sure he made the right choice.
All he hears is elevated breathing and sniffling sounds, and he waits. While he doesn't check the clock, Kitayama is quite sure five minutes of silence passes before Fujigaya even tries to speak, and when he does, his voice is thick with tears.
“I...” he starts, pauses to cough once, “I told him.”
“Yeah?” Of course he did.
“He said he'll never see me in that way.” If it's the way Fujigaya says it, or the words themselves, Kitayama isn't sure, but it stings inside of him to hear. He can only imagine if it had been himself hearing those words; he'd be in the same state as Fujigaya currently is, without any doubts, at least after having gotten his hopes up. He supposes that's what has happened. That Fujigaya started hoping when Yokoo demanded his attention.
Which burns in his heart to think about; if Fujigaya started hoping for it even though he had decided to be with Kitayama, then what does Kitayama mean to him? Yet he also understands, in a way, because he recalls the times he has dated others, despite his feelings for his group member, and he knows that had he had a partner that time in the kitchen, when Fujigaya kissed him like his life depended on it, he would have thrown it all away if Fujigaya had just asked him to. And Fujigaya hadn't even demanded his attention like Yokoo must have.
The crying doesn't cease; if anything it grows stronger as Kitayama stays silent, and he makes another drastic decision.
“Taisuke, can I come to your place?” At first he only gets sniffles back, then a low hum, and he assumes it's an agreeing one.
“Please,” and Fujigaya's voice breaks as he speaks.
Kitayama is already on his way out the door when he hangs up; he suggested that they stay connected over the phone, but Fujigaya had disagreed. The ride to Fujigaya's place seems like it takes forever, yet he's there within thirty minutes and when he lets himself inside the apartment, he's met by red, swollen eyes. No tears, but he has never seen Fujigaya this miserable and it twists something inside of him so much that he barely gets his shoes off before he's pulling him into an embrace.
“Shh,” he whispers as Fujigaya breaks out into tears again, sobbing against the side of Kitayama's head. “Come, talk to me.”
Although it's Fujigaya's apartment it's Kitayama that leads him to the couch, wipes his cheek with his thumb when it's obvious that he's trying to stop crying.
“I told him,” Fujigaya says again, just like on the phone, but this time he doesn't stop there. “I told him that I have had feelings for him. That I still do, to some extent.”
“I know.” It hurts to agree, but he wants Fujigaya to keep on talking.
“And he doesn't. I knew he doesn't. But I thought that if I heard him say it, I could be able to take that final step. Like you said.”
“Can I ask you something?” When Fujigaya nods, he continues. “What do you feel for him? Right now?”
There's a longer silence before he gets any answer; as if Fujigaya is thinking of a way to tell Kitayama without hurting him too much. And that's exactly why he's surprised when he hears it.
“I was in love with him. I was. But I constantly tried to move on. Really. And then, when we finally got into this, something steady, something safe and secure that felt good in all ways, that's when he came wanting my attention. And I just couldn't tell him no, you know?”
It hurts, but at the same time Kitayama understands. If you've loved someone, there is usually some kind of affection for them left in your heart, unless they've hurt or traumatized you. And it lingers more if it happens to be a person you never got to be with, because it doesn't get to a final point if you're the only one. If it hadn't been for that, Kitayama would have been over Fujigaya years ago.
“It just felt so unfair.”
Kitayama can't entirely hide the bitterness in his voice. “It was unfair.”
Again, to his surprise, tears start running from Fujigaya's eyes; he hides his face in his hands as he sobs.
“I was shocked you even read my message,” he admits, voice weaker than Kitayama has probably ever heard it. “I almost thought we were over.”
“Of course I'd read it. I care about you.” He lays an arm around Fujigaya's shoulders, carefully, but when he doesn't shy away from it, he pulls him a little bit closer.
“I,” Fujigaya tries to wipe his face dry with his sleeve, “I don't want to lose you.”
And it hits Kitayama that Fujigaya isn't crying because Yokoo has broken his heart. He's crying because he's afraid.
“Baby.” It's entirely without thinking that he speaks, that he pulls Fujigaya into his arms and lets him sob against his shoulder. “Getting rid of me isn't that easy.” They stay silent for a moment, as silent as it gets when Fujigaya won't stop shaking. “You know, I believed you. When you said you wouldn't get into a relationship without feeling anything.”
“I wouldn't,” Fujigaya whispers as he pulls back, “but even if you were told that, I'm sure most people would...”
“Well, I'm not most people. Maybe I'm easy, but as long as you want me, I'm yours.”
At that, Fujigaya smiles a little. “Yeah. You are pretty easy.”
It's just a hint of happiness, but it means all the difference to Kitayama when that hint blossoms out into a fuzzy warmth inside his chest, and he knows that even though it has been painful, he'd rather get past it with Fujigaya by his side, than without him.
“I trust you,” he repeats as leans back, “but I've still been hurt. I just... I don't want to have been hurt for nothing.” It's as if those words flick a switch inside Fujigaya, and although still red and irritated, there's a strength in his eyes.
“I'll prove it to you.” A part of him wants to sigh, because Fujigaya is such a hopeless romantic, but it's that romantic he also happens to be hopelessly in love with.
Next chapter