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Kojiro doesn't like it.
Over at one of the window seats, the only remaining table occupied that late in dinner service, Kaoru leans over to look at something his companion is pointing at.
Kojiro can't tell from where he's standing behind the counter what the guy is even pointing to. All he knows is that the movement reveals the guy's expensive-looking watch, which matches his expensive-looking suit. His hair sweeps back from his face in an expensive-looking way and every second that Kojiro looks reminds him that he hates guys like this one.
Rich, handsome guys who talk a lot but probably know nothing about calligraphy—it's just so weird that those are Kaoru's type.
"Chef Nanjo?"
Kojiro turns to find one of his staff looking at him from the front of the counter. "Yeah?"
"That gentleman over there asked for you." He pointed exactly to the man that Kojiro had just been giving the evil eye.
Crap. Did he catch Kojiro at it? Maybe Kaoru's date—client—heard Kojiro's internal monologue about him, or caught him staring.
He steps out from behind the bar and towards the table.
"Aah, there is the good chef himself!" says the rich gentleman who is currently Kaoru's companion for the evening. He doesn't look upset, which is something. "Kaoru and I were just talking about how wonderful the food has been."
'Kaoru?' Kojiro thinks, eyes narrowing. 'He's awfully familiar.'
"Ah," he says, looking at the gentleman but not really bothering to smile. "Thanks."
If Kojiro's clipped response deterred him at all, the man does not show it. He instead turns back to Kaoru and continues speaking. "Of course, it is to be expected, right? It is not everyday we see a chef actually trained in Italy here in our area. The food is simply exquisite. Why, we'd be regulars at this point, won't we be, Kaoru?"
'One of you is already a mooching regular,' Kojiro thinks, doing his best not to make a face at the way the guy looks at Kaoru and insists on using his first name. 'The other one I can do without.'
He turns to look surreptitiously at Kaoru, who sits quietly across from the other man, lips curled in that polite smile that Kojiro knows only too well. He sees it so often in Sia la luce with all the clients Kaoru brings. Kaoru never smiles like that with him, and that's fine. Kaoru's smiles for him are better and more genuine—smug at times, but Kojiro will still take it any day.
The fact that Kaoru is wearing his polite smile with his man eases a bit of the tightness Kojiro feels.
"I'm glad Oshiro-san enjoyed dinner," says Kaoru. "Good food always makes for pleasant meetings."
"Come now, I told you to call me 'Hiroyuki'. You know, overseas, we use first names all the time." Oshiro-san leans over the table, smile slowly curling on his lips. "Besides, we are at a fine restaurant around wonderful food and great wine. To call it just a meeting does not quite do it justice, no?"
Kojiro clears his throat. "I'll get the bill for you, shall I?"
He doesn't care if it’s rude. It's late, and there is no way he can stay at that table and watch some guy being all over Kaoru, at least not without visibly sneering. He tries to tell himself it isn’t his business, and doing anything more will likely just get him in trouble with Kaoru later on. The man takes his work seriously, and Kojiro would hate to embarrass him in front of a client.
He keeps an eye out on their table even as he leaves the bill for one of his staff to take care of. Kaoru and his companion stay for just a few more minutes after the bill is settled, after which the two stand up to leave.
Kojiro continues to watch them through the glass doors. He can swear from the client's body language that he is offering Kaoru a ride—maybe more, a treacherous part of his mind suggests. Would Kaoru take him up on it? No, Kaoru keeps things professional. He does not sleep with clients—at least as far as Kojiro knows.
They never really talk about it. The idea that Kaoru does—and could consider this one—hits Kojiro like a bucket of water down his back.
It's not the first time he's seen people flirt with Kaoru. Once upon a time, Kojiro entertained himself with how every person who approached Kaoru with high hopes saw those hopes crash and burn, especially in the face of Kaoru's bluntness.
Recently, though, they are maybe not as entertaining anymore. Not when he keeps catching himself looking at Kaoru more often nowadays. Not after he's seen Kaoru hurt on a big screen, in fucking high definition and in front of an audience, the moment filling his chest with such cold dread on that one second when it occurred to him, 'What if Kaoru doesn't get up from this?' and, 'I can't do this without him.'
It doesn't matter that Kaoru is likely to refuse this guy—likely to stay, because he usually does when he ends his work at Sia la luce. Here, where Kojiro is.
Even so, Kojiro can’t help but worry.
Behind him, he can hear his staff finishing up on the clean-up. There isn't much more that needs to be done, having started when they called for last orders earlier. They know that Kojiro prefers to finish up and close the store well after everyone else has left. They are also used to seeing Kaoru on the counter seat even as they go, so they wipe the wine glasses ready for use instead of leaving them beside the sink to dry.
So much of this place knows Kaoru so well. Sometimes it's as though it sits in wait, only going through the motions until Kaoru returns to slot himself in the space made just for him.
Kojiro is wiping down the bar counter when Kaoru returns.
"Aren't you too broke to be rude to customers?" he says as soon as he is standing in front of Kojiro from the other side of the bar.
Kojiro stops his cleaning to look up at him. "Aren't you too busy to be taking leisurely dates on a work day?"
"That wasn't a date, you giant idiot, that was a business meeting."
Kojiro folds his arms across his chest. "Was it? Because it didn’t sound like your date got the memo."
"Every client is different. Some clients are more... chummy than others," says Kaoru, looking completely unapologetic, which gets him a snort from Kojiro.
"Sure, if that's what you want to call it."
By this point, Kojiro's sous chef and one of the servers poke their heads out of the kitchen. Risa, the sous chef, speaks for them. "Chef Nanjo, we're all done. We'll lock up the back, okay?"
Kojiro waves at her. "Thanks, Risa."
Risa turns to Kaoru and bows at him. "Sensei, good night. It's good to see you again tonight."
Kaoru smiles and nods politely at her. Behind Risa, the other servers and kitchen staff shuffle out to bow and make their goodbyes as well, until finally, it is just the two of them.
"What's got you so pissed anyway?" Kaoru asks even as he gestures for the wine glasses. Kojiro hands him one and opens the bottle of Kaoru's preferred white, the movement already automatic.
"I'm not pissed," he says as he pours.
"Yeah, and that hole you're about to burn through the counter is just your latent superpowers coming late in life."
The image is so dumb that, despite his mood, it surprises a laugh out of Kojiro. "You're such a nerd," he says with a shake of his head.
Kaoru rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk upwards just as the rim of his glass touches his lips. Kojiro stares maybe a little longer than appropriate.
The thing is, he isn't stupid. He knows what this feeling is. He's always had this weird thing with Kaoru growing up, something that Kojiro might have called a "crush" back when they were young and stupid, but one that he kept close and quiet because… well, that's his best friend right there, isn't it? He knows as well that he is far from Kaoru's type, so it's just easier to think that nothing will come out of it.
He's gotten very good at it over the years—until recently, that is.
Recently, they've been spending a lot of time together, and with the kids. Miya won't shut up about who his S mommy and daddy are, and while Kaoru protests, he dotes on the younger skaters in a way that Kojiro thinks is pretty damn cute. Now that life and their businesses have grown, busy but in a good, fulfilling way, quiet evenings and chill weekends have become preferable over hopping bars and meeting strangers.
There is also that disastrous beef with Adam. Kaoru never said it in so many words, but Kojiro watched the light in his friend's eyes all those years ago when Adam skated and charmed his way into their little group. He also watched that light get extinguished, crushed by Adam's actions and his stupid lies (as though Kaoru could ever be boring when he is easily the most interesting person in the room). Seeing Kaoru laugh again after it all, and after he stuck to Kojiro and nagged him and demanded to be taken care of, it felt like the end to a dark chapter. It was good to see Kaoru get over it all.
Nowadays, too, Kojiro would catch Kaoru's eyes and he'd wonder if the look he sees there is just a trick of the light. He thinks about the way Kaoru's gaze lingers and Kojiro thinks, maybe, that there is something there, finally.
But then enter men like Oshiro Hiroyuki-san and suddenly Kojiro is not so sure. A long time ago, Kojiro knew what it was like to see Kaoru with someone who seemed like he could give him everything he wanted, while Kojiro looked on in the sidelines with whatever homemade bento he was able to scrape up from what they had at home. It wasn’t easy, especially when he himself thought that Kaoru deserved everything the world could give him.
"You're really not going to tell me?" prods Kaoru, pulling Kojiro out of his thoughts.
Kojiro sighs. "Look, it's really nothing." He doesn't know what makes him add: "It's none of my business who you see."
Kaoru doesn't immediately respond, and shit, why would he? What can he say?
Kojiro bites back a curse and just pours himself a glass. He hates the way it all makes him feel, because it's true. It's none of his business and he has no claim over Kaoru, and what he thinks is going on between them might also just be all in his head.
Thinking he could drown himself before the next stupid thing comes out of his mouth, Kojiro downs the wine faster than its vintage deserves—
"I mean, you can always make it your business."
—and he chokes.
It's not pretty, and Kaoru ends up standing up and going to where Kojiro is struggling to catch his breath from behind the bar. He rubs Kojiro's back.
"Kaoru, what?" Did he just— did Kaoru just—
"What do you mean, 'what'?" Kaoru clicks his tongue, but when Kojiro looks, there is a tell-tale pink on his cheeks. "I don't understand gorilla, so you're going to have to clarify that question."
"What do you mean I can make it my business?" Kojiro doesn't even have the brain power to feel offended, not with more important things at hand. "How— how exactly does that happen?"
"I don't know, Kojiro," says Kaoru, his arms crossing across his chest. He lifts his chin up, and maybe someone else will see it as a challenge, but Kojiro can see the slight tremble on the other's lips when he speaks. "How does one make it his business who the other person sees?"
Kojiro blinks at him. "But—" His brain still struggles to process. "You've made it perfectly clear what your type of guy is."
"Oh, have I?"
"Yeah? Guys like that." Kojiro gestures towards the door, where Kaoru's rich, handsome, douche client had already long gone. "It's not even the first time you've put me aside for someone like that."
"What?" It is now Kaoru's turn to ask. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't pretend you didn’t like Adam back in high school. You guys were always off on your own, and you know what? I get it. Even when we still didn't know who he was, he seemed like a pretty big deal.” Not that it was still a sore spot seven years down the road or anything.
Kaoru gapes at him. "Are you stupid? You think I'm so shallow that I'd look for things like that?"
"No, but I—" Kojiro ran a hand down his face. "I just mean… if you wanted to, you could get guys like that. And I'm right, aren't I? You liked Adam then."
"That was years ago! And don’t make it sound like I ever left you behind even then, because I’m sure as hell that I didn’t.”
“How sure?” challenged Kojiro. “How would you know? You were so blinded by how cool he was, how would you know if you still even saw anyone else when you were looking at him?”
"Because I liked you both, you moron!"
That shut Kojiro up.
Kaoru isn’t even done. He looks livid, in a way only Kaoru would know how, red-faced and eyes glazing but blinking it back out of sheer stubbornness and determination.
"Yeah! Happy now?” he all but yells. “You can like two people, you know, especially when you think you have shit chances with the first one.” He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up his already loose ponytail, but he doesn’t seem to think about it as he looks to the side, avoiding Kojiro’s eyes. "God damn. He even fucking knew, you know? Teased me about it then, too, at least about as best as that bastard can tease. He said he might consider going for it with me—" Kojiro bristles, about to speak because he hated the picture the words paint in his head "—if not for the fact that he was never good at being second best."
It takes a while for that to sink in.
"Second best?" Kojiro asks, maybe dumbly, because suddenly Kaoru pushes at his chest, strong enough for him to stumble.
"I swear, you—" Kaoru takes a breath. "You're the one with all the girlfriends in high school. Every month it's like some girl is confessing to you. That guy earlier? You were jealous, weren't you? You think I don't know what jealousy looks like? I lived with it for so many goddamned years."
Kojiro is speechless. "Kaoru…" he tries, but no other words leave him.
He thinks about all that time, all those people, some of whom Kojiro likes to think he did love, but never more than what he felt for Kaoru. But he went for all of them because he thought… he thought—
"Ugh, I can't do this." Kaoru looks away, frustration clear on his face. Kojiro knows him well enough to see something else there, a shadow of hope crushed quickly as it often tends to with Kaoru. He never was the most optimistic guy, his Kaoru, but even so, to be the one to hurt him is a knife through Kojiro’s chest. "I don’t even know why I still try. Figure yourself out, I don't even care anymore."
He turns to go, and finally Kojiro’s body returns to life. He reaches out for Kaoru’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks.
"Please don't say that,” he pleads, surprising even himself at the way he sounds. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Shit, Kaoru, I didn't know."
Were there signs? Not just recently, but all that time? All this time, all the trips they had when Kojiro pretended he was more interested in the view and the forgettable pretty faces around them than the one untouchable thing beside him? How could he miss them?
Kaoru rolls his eyes. They remain somewhere off to the side, avoiding Kojiro, and the smile on his lips is just this side of self-deprecating. "It's so stupid. Of all people for me to like…"
Even though it has been implied, to hear the words fill Kojiro’s chest until it’s hard to breathe. "You like me?"
Finally, Kaoru turns around to scowl at Kojiro. "Are you a child? Do you need me to spell it out?"
His face is scrunched up and as red as a tomato and all Kojiro can think about is that he looks so perfect, standing there in the middle of Sia la luce. Here, where they spend so much of their time, just the two of them, after hours when everything else is over and the world is about to sleep and they are free to return to being the dorks they both still secretly are. Kojiro’s space, in a place he was even so excited to show Kaoru the first time.
He remembers the feeling when Kaoru looked at the place and told him—in a rare moment when there were no jokes, only wonder in those golden eyes—that it was amazing, that he was so proud of Kojiro. He remembers the moment Kaoru saw the counter seats and claimed them as his own. It delighted Kojiro because it was even the first thing he imagined when the architect pitched the idea to him, him and Kaoru there, just as it should be.
Even when things have changed and neither of them looks like they did when they were kids, he is still the best thing Kojiro has ever seen. Even with the make-up and piercings gone, he still looks amazing. The way the kimono falls around him, all slender lines that not even those layers can hide—he looks like he would be so good to hold. For the first time, Kojiro thinks, maybe he could.
“I want to kiss you, Kaoru,” he says, never more honest. He steps closer, eyes never leaving the other’s. He notes the surprise on Kaoru’s face, but even so, Kaoru stays put so that he and Kojiro are standing with barely a breath between them. Kojiro lifts a hand, helpless to the need to brush the hair out of Kaoru’s eyes. "May I?"
Kojiro has kissed many people before—from as far back as when he was just figuring things out, convincing himself that life should go on, that there was no reason to moon over someone who didn't want him back, and that his friendship with Kaoru was too good to ruin. But no one has ever been as important to him as Kaoru. No one has ever been more precious, more annoying, more likely to pull a reaction from Kojiro than his childhood best friend, who has always been the prettiest, smartest, funniest boy Kojiro has ever known. It should therefore have come as no surprise that kissing Kaoru would be nothing like how kissing has always been for Kojiro.
The first brush of their lips is electric. Kojiro breathes him in, presses their lips more firmly, his hands coming up to the curve of Kaoru’s waist and squeezing. He moans low when he feels Kaoru's lips close around his own, his arms sliding up Kojiro's arms to wrap around his neck. Kaoru is even the first to swipe a tongue along Kojiro’s lips, but he pulls away just as Kojiro opens his mouth, hungry and aching to taste more.
"I hate that you're a fucking idiot," Kaoru says, and his fingers twist at the hair behind Kojiro’s head for good measure. Kojiro bites his lip to keep from groaning.
"You just said you like me."
"Yeah, I don't even want to think about what that makes me."
Kojiro laughs. He holds Kaoru tight, loving the way he fits in Kojiro’s arms. He kisses the top of that pink head, the perfect height for him, the perfect everything. He ducks down to kiss those lips again.
“You’re coming over to my place, right?” he says, and the way he squeezes at Kaoru perhaps says how much he cannot take it if the answer is no.
"We haven’t even gone on a date yet, you thirsty gorilla."
For a moment, Kojiro doesn’t immediately get what he means. But then he gets it, and suddenly the image of their usual nights—dumb movies, snacking on leftovers, innocent sleepovers—is replaced by the memory of that heated kiss from earlier, of doing it again, doing maybe more—nipping and kissing down Kaoru’s gorgeous neck, Kojiro’s hands inside Kaoru’s kimono, peeling it off his shoulders, taking him to bed.
"I didn't—" he stutters, but it’s too late because his brain is overtaken and is on the verge of shutting down. “You know that’s not what I meant—”
Showing no mercy, Kaoru pulls Kojiro down and kisses him again, effectively killing whatever is left of Kojiro’s working brain cells. His tongue swipes inside Kojiro’s mouth, and his laugh is merciless when Kojiro groans like he’s dying.
“The answer is yes,” he says, and bites at Kojiro’s lips. "Take me home, Kojiro."