Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Normally, Chifuyu doesn’t do this.

Bringing (hot) strangers into his flat, stumbling with said (hot) strangers through his kitchen and almost knocking his coffee machine off the counter while trying to reach his bedroom, because he is busy making out heavily with the (hot) stranger in question. 

Did Chifuyu already mention that this guy is hot…?

He isn’t superficial. Some of his friends even say he isn’t superficial enough, urging him to let go of his overly romanticized fantasies about finding a deep connection at first sight and just have a bit of fun already.

It’s not that he is boring or prudish, but Chifuyu does like the thought of having some emotional attachment besides the physical attraction. That’s not too much to ask for, is it? 

But on the other hand, he didn’t really get much out of it lately. His dating life is rather, well, let’s say it’s been on hold. For a short or not so short while now. There have been more important things to take care of. College isn’t a self runner and his last break up did leave some scars, but it’s okay, really. You don’t have to have it all figured out at the age of twenty. He is fine by himself. 

Well, but he is also very fine with the situation in his bedroom right now.

The stranger who introduced himself as Kazutora, licks into his mouth as if his life depends on it. He tastes sweet, like the fruity cocktail he drank, something with banana juice Chifuyu remembers darkly, but there’s also the hint of cold smoke, adding another flavor he doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

Chifuyu never really was into smoking, but from this stranger’s lips he’d even take a taste of pure tobacco. 

It’s a pretty cheesy thought, yeah, he is aware of that, but this guy kisses like a pro or maybe Chifuyu just hasn’t been kissed like this for a long time or it’s the alcohol in his system, but it’s fucking amazing and he doesn’t want it to stop.

“So, pretty boy” Kazutora breathes against his red swollen lips, fingers fumbling teasingly at the buttons of Chifuyu’s navy blue shirt. “How d’you want to do it?” 

Chifuyu, kind of perplexed by the sudden question, widens his eyes. He can’t remember ever having been asked that bluntly about his preferences. It’s been rather the other way around, with him trying to please his partners and be content with that. It just played out naturally like that, without much words spoken. So this comes unexpected, really and leaves him kind of overwhelmed. 

“I, uhm – ” Chifuyu gulps, not quite sure how to finish that sentence, head spinning with liquor and his guest’s overall presence. Kazutora’s fingers, which are brushing very distractingly over the bare skin underneath his opened shirt aren’t helpful either and he curses himself for being so unprepared. 

Kazutora doesn’t seem to mind though, considering the playful smirk on his lips. 

“I’d love to ride your dick, you know,” he mumbles against the soft shell of his ear, breath dancing hotly over his skin and it’s not just the words that send a slight shiver through Chifuyu’s body.

“But.” Kazutora’s mouth wanders down his neck, more teasing than touching. “I bet you’d also look pretty fucking hot on your knees, begging me to fuck you.”

A bright flush spreads on Chifuyu’s cheeks. Maybe he is more prudish than he thought, compared to Kazutora at least, who could be taken straight from a porn right now. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it’s kind of… intimidating? In a hot way, but still. For someone who isn’t used to one night stands and hadn’t had sex in, like, nearly a year it’s… a lot. 

“You… talk a lot,” Chifuyu decides for a casual comment, covering up his slightly nervous excitement with the attempt of a teasing smile. 

“I can put my mouth to better use,” Kazutora counters unabashedly. “Want me to show you?” 

Once again Chifuyu is stunned into silence, eyes wide in surprise, while the smugness in Kazutora’s grin seems to grow even wieder. He seems to clearly enjoy this, knowing perfectly well about the impact he leaves and Chifuyu wonders briefly just how often he does stuff like this. 

“Just lean back and relax,” Kazutora mumbles, hands already undoing Chifuyu’s belt buckle with surgical efficiency. Guided by Kazutora, who presses his mouth fiercely onto his lips, Chifuyu stumbles backwards until his legs hit the edge of his bed. Next, his pants drop down to his ankles and then there’s a slight pressure on his chest that urges him to sit down, which he complies to without any second thoughts or resistance. 

All of this happens so fast that Chifuyu has a hard time to even process it properly and just a heartbeat later Kazutora is already on his knees, freeing Chifuyu swiftly from his trousers to spread his legs and comfortably settle between them.

Panting, Chifuyu leans back, fingers digging into his sheets as he watches Kazutora leave a trail of wet kisses on his thighs, eyes gleaming mischievously up to him. 

“You look pretty cute like this,” Kazutora purrs, lips distractingly close to his hardening cock now. “Half-lidded eyes, brightly flushed face, waiting eagerly to get sucked off…” Kazutora’s forefinger traces over his length, barely more than the idea of a touch, making him suck in a sharp breath. “You’re totally my type, you know.”

Chifuyu bites down his lower lip, thinking of a quick-witted counter he throws at him with a wry smile. “Well. You’re not too bad either.”

Which is the understatement of the century, but he does have his pride and at least tries to appear not so easily impressed. 

When Chifuyu saw him earlier at the bar in a pair of dark skinny jeans ripped at the knees, a gray oversized shirt that revealed not only his collarbones but also the lower half of the dark tiger tattoo that covered the right side of his neck and the ugliest tiger print jacket ever made, he immediately thought that this guy had no business of looking so good in that awful jacket.

Kazutora entered the bar quietly like a ghost, but he stuck out like a wolf or rather a tiger amongst sheep. It was a middle-class bar for middle-class college kids, but this guy looked like taken straight from the cover of a magazine, walking with the effortless grace only a model can pull off. His dark hair, laced with blonde highlights was pulled up into a messy bun and revealed the tiny bell that dangled from his left earlobe. The dark traces of eyeliner and his pitch-black painted nails only added more uniqueness to his look.

You would expect someone like him at an exclusive cocktail party rather than a worn down bar for poor college students who couldn’t effort to study without a part time job. So Chifuyu would never have thought, let alone wanted to speak as much as a whole sentence with this guy – especially not after being drenched in one of his overly sweet and sticky banana cocktails. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Kazutora said absentmindedly, after running straight into Chifuyu and emptying nearly all of his glass over his brand new shirt. After giving Chifuyu a second look though, something playful sneaked into his expression and he noted with a flirty undertone, “Want to have my shirt? But I think you owe me a new cocktail first.” Winking, he lifted his empty glass, while Chifuyu could only stare at him in utter disbelief. 

Handsome or not, this was just straightforwardly rude and Chifuyu wasn’t one to put up with any shit.

“What? You ran into me and ruined my shirt, I owe you nothing!” Chifuyu declared, scrunching his nose at the intrusive smell of sweet juices and rum. “Don’t think you can do as you like just because you’re good looking! This shit doesn’t work with me.”

Kazutora’s eyes widened in surprise, but the playful smile never left his lips. “You think I’m good looking?”

“I – that’s not the point!” Chifuyu protested, feeling heat crawling into his cheeks and this wasn’t solely to his anger. 

The stranger’s smile that grew even bigger now didn’t make things better, nor did his casually interspersed compliment. “Gimme a sec, would you, pretty boy? I’m just going to get myself another drink and then we can discuss how I make up for your shirt. Deal?”

With that, Kazutora left him behind, dumbfounded and flustered and after getting a drink from some random guy at the bar, he really had the guts to return to Chifuyu and somehow… they ended up here. In his apartment, with Kazutora, kneeling smugly between his thighs, about to wrap his sinful lips around his cock and probably blow him into oblivion.

Yeah. That’s totally nothing he ever imagined to happen. 

The look Kazutora sends him right now is rather offended though, eyebrows raised notably at his not-too-bad comment, but he lets it pass with an amused snort. “Well, lucky me, that you still settled for me then,” he mocks quietly and there’s something odd to his tone, something Chifuyu can’t grasp, but the moment slips through his fingers like smoke. 

Besides, Kazutora knows how to distract him quite efficiently, licking a wet stripe from the base to the tip of his cock and Chifuyu can’t suppress a low gasp. Smiling wryly, Kazutora teases him more with his tongue, repeating the movement once, twice, three times with relish, the sight alone a sin. 

Kazutora takes his sweet time, exploring every inch with filthy devotion, fingers massaging his balls at a skilled pace. Chifuyu is so caught up that he barely notices when Kazutora asks him for lube. 

“Huh?” Confused, he blinks his eyes open and meets a very smug Kazutora. 

“Did I break you?” he snickers, which sends another wave of unwelcome heat into Chifuyu’s cheeks. “I asked for lube.” Kazutora gives him a suggestive wink and Chifuyu quickly nods, grateful to have an excuse to turn away for some seconds.

“Sure,” he mumbles as he crawls as gracefully as possible onto his bed to head for his nightstand. It’s slightly upsetting how easily this guy manages to catch him off guard, but not necessarily in a bad way. Quite the contrary, Chifuyu is clearly in no position to complain, but he still can’t figure him out. 

Kazutora isn’t the arrogant asshole as Chifuyu labeled him from first impression, his flirty teasing more an act like real mockery he thinks, but there’s still something intimidating about him. The way he looks, the way he acts, it’s like he plays in a fundamentally different liga and Chifuyu hates nothing more but stupid hierarchic thinking, but it’s reality. Normally, a guy that looks like Kazutora wouldn’t spare him a single side-glance and Chifuyu would be annoyed by him on principle, but when they talked at that bar he caught a glimpse of something that drew him to this guy like a moth to the flame. 

Or maybe you’re just horny, Baji’s unimpressed voice chimes in, which he clearly doesn’t need right now, thank you very much.

With slightly trembling fingers Chifuyu grabs the bottle of lube and also a nearly forgotten package of condoms which he is very grateful for now. 

When he turns around, about to get back to his spot at the edge of the bed, he is rewarded with the sight of Kazutora taking off his shirt, revealing porcelain pale skin. Briefly, Chifuyu catches sight of fading shadows, staining his waist like ink on paper, but his attention switches immediately when Kazutora casually gets rid of his trousers and shows off an ugly pair of tiger printed boxer shorts that totally match his stupid jacket.  

“What?” Kazutora asks with an amused grin as he notices the blatant look on Chifuyu's face.

“Your boxer shorts are just…” He slightly shakes his head and throws him a smile that’s somewhere between apologetic and teasing. “Sorry, I think they are just too ugly.” 

The way Kazutora’s expression changes from utter disbelief to a genuine laugh is endearing and Chifuyu can’t help but to think how much it suits him. It’s like getting a glimpse of the real Kazutora and not the hot stranger that acts and talks to him like this is a business arrangement. Under different circumstances, maybe Chifuyu would give this more thought, but the mood switches in the blink of an eye, leaving no room for deeper contemplation.

“Not the most charming way to tell me to take my clothes off,” Kazutora notes with an amused grin. “But lucky for you, I was just about to get rid of these.” Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, he casually exposes his notable erection and then leans back his head to undo his messy bun. Dark hair falls over his shoulders like silk and he takes his sweet time to tie it into a firm knot, strands of black and blond framing his face artfully, while his naked body is on full display.

It’s truly a sight and Chifuyu is convinced that Kazutora knows perfectly well about the effect he has, but he can’t find it in himself to be upset about it. It’s just too fucking hot and he feels how his throat gets all dry while all of his remaining blood seems to go south now.

Fuck, just – fuck. He totally needs Kazutora to take care of his throbbing erection as quickly as possible, preferably yesterday. 

“Like me better now?” Kazutora is back to his teasing tone, eyes focused intently on Chifuyu as he crawls onto the bed, gracefully like a cat. 

Chifuyu dry-swallows, before he trusts his voice enough to counter, “Do you always act like you’re a model in a commercial?” 

Kazutora smirks in amusement. “Just for cute guys like you.”

The hand he places simultaneously at Chifuyu’s chest makes him suck in a breath and he doesn’t resist when Kazutora pushes him down onto the mattress with gentle force. 

“Now, where did we leave off again…?” Kazutora mumbles rhetorically, slender fingers digging softly into Chifuyu’s thighs, demanding him to spread them apart. He doesn’t need to be told twice and after Kazutora settles comfortably between his legs again, he gets right down to business.

“Ah. Right,” he ponders jestingly, fingers wrapping around the base of Chifuyu’s cock. “I was about to suck you off.”

His eyes are mesmerizing, pools of gold to drown in and suddenly, Chifuyu can feel the warmth of Kazutora’s mouth slowly taking him in, tongue swirling playfully around the head of his cock and – “Fuck.” 

He moans his thought unintentionally into the room, fingers clawing into his sheets for support and whatever ounce of pride he had tried to maintain, it crumbles like ash under Kazutora’s touch, his mouth, his gazes. 

With methodical finesse he works his way up and down Chifuyu’s length, never leaving him out of his intense focus as he licks and sucks him into heaven, cheeks hollowed to take him even deeper. It’s sinful to watch, his lips all red and swollen, making obscene sounds around his cock and Chifuyu is torn between the desire to watch, not miss a fucking second and the urge to throw back his head into the sheets and mindlessly fill his bedroom with uninhibited moans. 

It’s a challenge to keep his composure, to not just come right on the spot and it’s not like Kazutora is making this any easier. With a complacent gleam in his eyes he reaches for the lube and wets his fingers with a good amount until they're all sticky and shiny. Smoothly, he then withdraws his head, tongue flattened against his length as he releases it with a lewd sound. 

“Keep watching me, pretty boy,” Kazutora demands cockily, voice laced in dark velvet. 

He obviously doesn’t expect an answer and even if Chifuyu wanted to give him one, he only manages another gasp as Kazutora's pink tongue gives his tip a brief lick, before he takes in half of his length again without any effort. 

Under dark lashes he sends Chifuyu an immersive gaze, making sure that he does watch every move he makes and honestly, Chifuyu doesn’t even dare to blink. When Kazutora seems satisfied, he slightly rearranges his position, his fingers wet with lube reaching back to meet the arch of his ass. 

Wide-eyed Chifuyu watches, stares, as Kazutora lets them slide in and when he literally feels the low vibration of Kazutora’s muffled moan against his cock, it’s easily one of the hottest things he ever lived to witness. 

Getting back to blow him senseless, Kazutora puts on a real show now as he stretches himself open, but as much as he’d  love to engrave every second of this sight into his retina, Chifuyu is powerless against his own arousal, the waves of pleasure that leave him trembling to the core, with his eyelids pressed tightly together as shameless noises fall from his lips like prayers.  

It’s only when the warmth of Kazutora’s mouth suddenly vanishes that he snaps out of it, heart racing a mile per minute as he throws Kazutora a slightly confused look through clouded eyes. His mind is spinning, every inch of his body brimming with tension and he has a hard time keeping up with Kazutora.

Licking his swollen lips gleefully, he gets up, face flushed in a beautiful shade of red.

“Fuck… you’re killing me,” Chifuyu pants out, running a hand through the messy dark strands stuck to his forehead. 

The notion seems to hit a spot, making Kazutora’s eyes brighten up with delight. “That’d be a real shame,” Kazutora coes, fingertips trailing up Chifuyu’s belly to his chest. “I need you to hold on a little longer. Think you can do that for me?”

Chifuyu can’t help but to snort quietly. “Bring it on, pretty boy. ” With a challenging smirk he mimics the pet name Kazutora gave him and is rewarded with a baffled expression. It’s only a short triumph, lasting for nothing more than a ragged breath, but it feels good that he also can catch him off guard. 

Raising his eyebrows, Kazutora is back to his wry smile. “Your wish is my command.”

In no time, his cock is wrapped in a condom and Kazutora sits right on his lap, fingers fanned out on Chifuyu’s chest to keep him down, legs framing his eager body. Briefly, he grinds against Chifuyu’s crotch as if to get a first taste, eliciting another moan from his throat. 

A smug gleam flashes through Kazutora’s eyes which Chifuyu tries to counter with stoical defiance, but he is sure it doesn’t really come across – and when Kazutora repositions himself, Chifuyu’s cock in a firm grip for better guidance, every last bit of his brain power is about to perish. 

Eyelids closed in pleasure, Kazutora slowly sinks down, taking in inch by inch by inch with a low groan on his lips. Chifuyu holds in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the view, by the tight heat clenching around his dick and it’s an automatism to grab Kazutora’s hips, keep him in place. He just… needs a second right there. 

Kazutora doesn’t seem to mind at all, hands mapping out his chest with delicate fingers, his smile somewhat adoring.  

“You’re feeling so good inside me,” he murmurs more words of sin as soon as Chifuyu loosens his grip and he takes it as a hint to get moving, slowly rolling down his hips and elegantly arching his spine.

“You – ” Instead of panted words Chifuyu lets out a deep moan, fingers digging urgently into Kazutora’s thighs. “Fuck.”

Kazutora’s smile is sly as he literally rides him into oblivion. Every thoughtful move, every lewd noise that drops from his lips like honey leaves Chifuyu more like a panting, moaning, begging mess until there’s no room for anything but the burning desire to find release, thrust harder, deeper, faster into Kazutora, feel more of this sweet, unbearable heat filling every cell of his body.

Patiently, Kazutora rides him through his orgasm, peppering his neck with wet kisses as Chifuyu tenses from head to toe, screaming things he can’t remember, just to collapse heavily into his mattress, every limb in his body exhausted as if he just ran the New York marathon. 

Gasping, Chifuyu sprawls out on his bed like a starfish, trying to somehow gather his breath and senses. He barely notices when Kazutora gets up and rolls down to the side, still too caught up in the aftermath of his orgasm. 

Only when he trusts his voice enough to get out a decent sentence, he notes, “This was – wow.” Grinning stupidly, he turns his head and meets a pair of thoughtful, somewhat distant golden eyes. Kazutora sits next to him, back leaning casually against the headboard.  When he notices his attention, the playfulness in his expression returns within a heartbeat, making it appear like Chifuyu just imagined things. 

“Not too bad, huh?” he teases and Chifuyu is about to throw him a witty counter, but the words die in his throat when he realizes that Kazutora, very obviously, didn’t get to finish.

“Wait, you didn’t – ” Chifuyu blurts out, eyes growing wide and he hastily straightens up. “Sorry. I thought you finished too,” he explains, trying to hide his slight embarrassment behind an apologetic smile and curses himself a little for being so self-centered. This totally isn’t like him, but Kazutora, well – he really threw him off track here. 

“Let me take care of this,” Chifuyu proposes, feeling a lot less appealing than Kazutora when he approaches him, but this is a matter of principle. Call him old school or cheesy or whatever, but Chifuyu can’t really find it in himself to enjoy this when he is the only one getting off. 

This time, Kazutora isn’t so fast to hide his emotions, eyes wide with genuine surprise. He gives Chifuyu a long, intense gaze, pondering god knows what, before he relaxes back to his casual self. 

“Sure,” he shrugs, spreading his legs for him. “Anything you want, pretty boy.” Despite being back to his flirty demeanor, Chifuyu can’t shake off the impression that something is different now. That Kazutora is different. More guarded somehow, but he can’t really put his finger on it.

Shoving these thoughts to the back of his mind, Chifuyu concentrates on the task at hand. It’s been a while since he gave head, but no one ever complained so he is confident that Kazutora will enjoy it. At least he hopes that he does. 

Chifuyu ditches the teasing comments and gets to the point rather quickly, licking salty precum from Kazutora’s tip and giving him a treat with his mouth and tongue just like he did before. It’s surprising how different Kazutora acts when being on the receiving end, more quiet than vocal. More reserved than outgoing. 

His moans are low and muffled as if he tries to take up as little room as possible, but he looks so damn beautiful like this, lips slightly parted, golden eyes half lidded and clouded with pleasure, a pink blush on his cheeks framed by loose strands of blond. 

Somehow, this feels strangely intimate, like something Chifuyu isn’t supposed to see, but Kazutora allowed him to get a glimpse anyway and now he can’t turn away.  

The hand that Kazutora buried in his hair guides him with gentle firmness and every soft moan, every gasp he gets from these soft lips feels like a small victory, a sweet affirmation. 

When he can feel Kazutora’s fingers clenching tighter around the dark strands of his hair, mindlessly alternating between tugging and pushing, he isn’t surprised about the quiet murmur that follows. “Going to… come…” 

Instead of pulling away, Chifuyu increases his efforts, sucking him off until the last drop of cum runs down his throat. 

Out of breath Kazutora leans back, running a palm over his forehead to brush away his loose strands of hair, gaze on Chifuyu the whole time. 

He can’t tell what Kazutora is thinking right now, mind caught up on the notion of how unfairly beautiful this man is, but there’s also something else, something hidden underneath, but like chasing a shadow, the more Chifuyu tries to catch it, the more it slips away.

Lost, a tiny voice inside him whispers, later, when he lies in bed, after taking a much needed shower and successfully convincing the stranger to stay over for the night. 

He looked like he was lost. 

Chapter Text

Smoking never really calmed Kazutora’s nerves. 

It’s a habit he picked up to fit in and kept because everyone needs a constant in their lives. It’s more reliable than people, always offering the same bitter taste of self destruction. A cigarette never disappoints. That’s what makes it so addictive. 

He takes another deep drag and watches the smoke unfold into the chilly nightair like a pale ghost until there’s nothing left but its heavy scent. If only disappearing were that easy, he thinks. But Kazutora isn’t here to pity himself. It’s just that ungodly hour that has the habit of making people sentimental and unfortunately, he isn't always immune to that. Especially not when taking a smoke on the tiny balcony of his latest pick up.

He shouldn’t have come here. 

Kazutora knew it the moment he exchanged more than five sentences with Chifuyu Matsuno, but he got weak. Weak to the idea of kind words, a charming smile and being treated nicely. In his mind, it sounds so lame that he grimaces in disgust at himself. 

But considering the incident with the last guy that he stayed with… it’s only natural that he couldn’t resist the idea of getting something nice for a change. 

Kazutora stayed nearly two weeks with said guy. A second-class manager in his mid-thirties, trying to work up his way in a company that doesn’t give a single shit about him, but he pretended to be the biggest fish out there, just waiting for his time to come. 

Kazutora knows guys like him like the back of his hand and really, it’s way too easy to crack them. Just tell them what they want to hear, don’t talk back and act like they are the hottest shit you’ve ever seen. Piece of cake. 

Plus, he didn’t look too bad and Kazutora knew from experience that these losers were drawn to him like flies to a pile of shit. So in exchange for some lame dates, where this guy could boast in front of his stupid friends that he actually landed on a twentyone year old model and a quick blowjob now and then, Kazutora got a decent roof over his head for free. 

Until that guy got some funny ideas, involving handcuffs, non-consensual touching and nasty bruises on his skin. 

It was a close call, really, but Kazutora managed to kick this bastard’s teeth in and escape before it got really ugly. He may be willing to do some annoying shit to get by, but he isn’t a fucking whore and he totally won’t allow some random asshole to have his way with him.

Which left him without a shelter for the night and after pondering his options, he decided to try for the next best bar. Sure, he could always give Keisuke a call and crash at his place, but there were certain questions Kazutora wanted to avoid, so he settled for the bar.

Which led him to Matsuno and guys like him are a different kind of dangerous compared to the ones Kazutora usually deals with.
Good-hearted with a pinch of naivety, bright and honest smile and way too keen on getting to know him, which ends with overly personal questions that Kazutora avoids like the plague. They just care too much about the details, notice the cracks in his facade and try to dig way too deeply.

They are also pretty easy to manipulate and Kazutora can’t deny the appeal of that, but just because he is a bad person doesn’t mean he is the lowest scum. An asshole manipulating other assholes is better than an asshole manipulating innocent guys. Or at least that's what he tries to find some pride in. He isn’t the worst. Yet.

It’s clear as day that Matsuno hasn’t much to spare. His flat is tiny at best, more a dollhouse than a proper living space and he works his ass off to afford it. Kazutora knows because he told him when they entered, working part time in a coffee shop and sometimes as a cleaning assistant in the nearby hospital at night to somehow finance his studies. Graphic design or something. God knows why he even remembered. It’s none of his business, really. Nothing about him is.

Kazutora has seen enough to know that. Be it the neatly framed pictures on his walls Kazutora chose to ignore as soon as he spotted something that looked like a mother figure, his ugly sleeping shirt showing the most disturbing cat logo he has ever seen and still pulls of as kinda cute or the way Matsuno fed his real cat after they entered the kitchen for a quick after-sex-snack, eyes all fond and soft when he stroked the animal’s black fur. 

Said cat watches him now warily through the balcony door with its huge yellow eyes as if it senses his fucked up aura from ten miles away and wants to ensure that he doesn’t do some weird shit to his owner. 

“I’m not that bad,” Kazutora murmurs in self defense to no one in particular and flicks the butt of his cigarette down the balcony with a heavy sigh. 

He really had nothing bad in mind with Matsuno, just some nice casual sex with a cute guy for the fun of it. No ulterior motive or anything. Well, if Matsuno turned out to secretly be a spoiled rich kid by any chance, maybe Kazutora would have taken some advantage of it, he can’t deny that, but that wasn’t the main goal here.   

Hell, he didn’t even plan to stay overnight, really, but the outside world is cold, Matsuno very cute and it would have been downright stupid to turn down his invitation. Having a little more of nice for a change couldn't hurt . Even someone like Kazutora deserved that once in a while, right?

But he extended it far enough and better takes his leave now than later, knowing perfectly well how things would play out if he stayed any longer. 

Humming to himself (Matsuno totally looks like a guy who’d do this), Matsuno would make him breakfast in the morning, containing a cheap brand of coffee (it would taste amazing), scrambled eggs decorated with cut tomatoes and a thick slice of buttered toast. Casually, he’d start a mindless conversation, asking how he slept, if he needed something else for his meal, harmless questions that would soon turn into dangerous ones and to finish it all, he’d throw him his cute challenging smile and hand over his number, written neatly on a post-it, signed with pretty boy . 

“Call me if you want.”

It’s amazing how Kazutora already imagines fake scenarios with fake conversations in his head and if he needed any final sign that it’s about fucking time to go, it's this one flashing in neon pink colors.  

Grabbing his stuff is a matter of seconds and it’s only natural that Kazutora takes a last glance at his peacefully sleeping host, his dark hair all ruffled and his soft and very kissable lips slightly parted. Totally beyond his reach, but one of the nicer memories to go back to when life becomes particularly shitty again.  

Matsuno’s cat follows him every step to the door as if to make sure that he doesn’t steal anything and Kazutora never felt so judged by a cat before, but when he slips into his boots, it rubs his head demandingly against his ankle, purring like a motorboat. 

Blinking in surprise he freezes for a moment, before carefully petting the soft fur. “So you just wanted some attention?” Kazutora mumbles, a small smile pulling at his lips. This cat is just as hard to read as its owner, really. One moment Matsuno was all cute and overwhelmed, struggling to even get out a single word and the next second he caught him totally off guard with his sharp green eyes and some straightforward remark Kazutora never expected to hear.

“You want to keep me here and get me caught by your owner, don’t you?” he notes, scratching the soft fur underneath the cat’s chin. Then Kazutora pulls himself together and gets up with a soft sigh. Facing Matsuno and having that uncomfortable conversation about why he leaves at four am in the morning is the last thing he wants right now. 

With his hand on the handle, he gives the cat a somewhat apologetic smile and explains, “It’s better when I just go unnoticed. Trust me,” which is pretty stupid, because he is talking to a fucking cat, but he’s been through a lot of shit these past weeks, so let him have this small dumb moment of peace. 

The streets are empty at this unholy time, but Kazutora knows a place where he can get a cup of coffee, a decent breakfast and have his privacy for a few hundred yen. It’s near the station where he keeps the bag with most of his belongings, which isn’t much to be honest, but that makes him kind of independent, doesn’t it? 

Kazutora enters the cheap twenty four hour restaurant with his gaze lowered and a quiet “Morning,” on his lips, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.
He is aware that he does stick out with his clothes, the jacket being a pretty expensive designer piece that he loves to death, but his look is all he has to offer. It’s what he wants to earn a living with, after all. 

After ordering a black coffee, he instinctively reaches for the inside pocket of the jacket. It’s where the familiar feeling of a soft leather cover is supposed to welcome him, but instead there’s cold fabric underneath his fingertips. 

Frowning, Kazutora takes a closer look just to find nothing but dark satin. His heart drops and a sting of disappointment runs through his chest. 

No. No, no, no. He can’t be that stupid, can he? He didn’t actually lose his damn sketchbook now?

Sighing, Kazutora runs a palm over his face and skims through the endless possible situations where he could have lost it, but it’s like finding a single grain of sand on a ten mile long beach.

It’s been a while since he had a moment to get lost in his drawings and knowing his luck, it’s probably lying somewhere at this asshole's apartment where he spent the last two weeks.
The mere thought makes him sick, sick with shame, sick with rage and for a single second he fantasizes about breaking into that bastard’s home and getting it back, but he hasn’t sunk that low yet. 

It’s just a stupid sketchbook after all. Nothing to get all sentimental about and if he lost it somewhere, well, it’s his own fault for being so careless then. Suits him right. He’ll just get another one. 

But deep inside, it’s not so easy to let it go. Kazutora could never explain it, but drawing is like disclosing a piece of his soul on paper. It happens unconsciously, but revealing his creations feels like the most vulnerable thing he can do. Which is irrational and stupid. No one cares about his ugly doodles. He’s just being pathetic and overly dramatic here. 

Clenching his jaw, Kazutora tries to forcefully push it aside, but the thing with thoughts is that they grow even more nagging the harder you try to avoid them.  

Nervously, he starts to bite his nails as another train of thoughts sets off.

Maybe he lost it at the bar last night or at Matsuno’s place… but it’s futile to keep ruminating over it, he won’t get it back either way. Resignedly, he looks down at the gnawed edges of his pitch-black nails and hates how he can immediately hear a familiar voice whisper words of velvet scolding into his ear.

“Ruining your pretty claws again, tiger? How often do I need to tell you to stop doing this, huh?”  

The notion makes his skin crawl and he hates the memory of that voice, hates the memory of him, but no matter how hard Kazutora tries to shut him out, he always finds a new crack in his defense to slip through, following him everywhere like a shadow. 

“Here’s your coffee, hun. Do you need anything else?” The friendly voice of a waitress rips him out of his thoughts and when he looks up in surprise, he is met with the smile of a middle aged lady with laughter wrinkles around her warm eyes. 

“Thanks,” Kazutora mumbles quietly, avoiding eye contact with the woman. It makes him uneasy. Kindness is way too unpredictable for him to handle. “Do you maybe have a piece of paper?” he then asks, the urge to keep himself busy stronger than his inner turmoil. “And a pen.”

“Sure.” The growing smile is audible in her voice and after some soft rustling noises, she reveals a blank ordering notebook on the table, followed by a well-worn pen.  

Kazutora nods curtly in approval, hand reaching down for his purse. “How much do you want for it?” he asks, ignoring the bitter taste on his tongue. It’s stupid to spend money on something so unimportant, but he can’t get out of his own skin.

Softly, the lady places a red-rubbed hand on the notebook and moves it closer to him. “It’s on the house,” tone indicating her unwavering smile.  

With clattering heels she turns to the next customer and only then Kazutora lifts his head, letting out the breath he held in. The ache in his chest is familiar like an old friend.

It’s about noon when Kazutora gets moving. The tip he leaves is laughable at best, but he lets a piece of folded paper slip into the small pocket of the apron the waitress wears. It’s nothing special. Just a rushed portrait. She looks like the kind of person who’d appreciate this stuff. Maybe. And if she doesn’t, she can rip it to shreds or set it afire or whatever. He doesn’t care. It’s stupid anyway. 

Kazutora feels better now, though. Drawing is like taking a breath of fresh air in a burning building. A short escape from the crumbling world around him and more importantly, the dire world inside his mind.  

With a cigarette plugged between his lips, it feels safe to make his way to Keisuke now. 

For Kazutora it’s still surreal to suddenly have him back in his life, but when things went south, he was the first person that came to his mind. Keisuke always was. 

They had had countless fights in the past, mostly over his way of living or rather the people he chose to spend time with (it’s always been about Shuji) and after a major blow up where they threw nasty accusations at each other like bombs, Kazutora chose to ignore him for more than half a year now. It’s been easier this way… and he was told that it’s better for him. 

This guy isn’t good for you, tiger. He’s just jealous. Block his number. He isn’t worth your precious time.

Reality is that he couldn’t handle the truth of Keisuke’s words. When self deception and denial are the soil on which your life is built upon, the sound of verity is a noise you can’t stand to listen to.

Kazutora tried to hate Keisuke for it. Loath and curse and despise him for his betrayal when in reality he knew that Kei just desperately tried to be a good friend. That he cared way too much to keep his mouth shut. Deep down, Kazutora somehow knew, but that was a pill he couldn’t swallow that time. 

Hating him was easier than missing him… and even though Kazutora didn’t deserve his forgiveness nor his friendship, Keisuke didn’t even hesitate a single second to welcome him back when Kazutora appeared out of nowhere, pretending nothing ever happened. 

“So, what would you say if I told you that I just arrived in Kyoto, cause I decided to start over here?” Kazutora greeted him with the widest grin he could manage as soon as Keisuke picked up his call. He didn’t expect him to. Hoped, with all of his clenching heart, but prepared himself for rejection.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m sick of Tokyo.”

There was a notable pause, and Kazutora wondered if Keisuke had simply hung up.

“Where are you right now?”

“Starbucks, near the main station.”

“Gimme ten minutes, idiot.”

It took Keisuke only five to arrive.

“So you broke up with him.” Keisuke concluded bluntly in lieu of a hello, hands buried in his pockets and gave him an insistent look.

“I did.” Kazutora confirmed with a pinched smile and lowered his head, struggling to find the right words. “Kei, listen, I’m – ” He let out a deep sigh, knowing this wasn’t even close to ever be enough. “Sorry. I said horrible things to you and honestly, I’m the worst friend ever, but – ”

“Oh, shut up. Self pity doesn’t suit you.” Kazutora couldn’t even do as much as carefully look up before he found himself in a tight, hearty embrace. 

“It’s good to have you back, Tora. I missed your stupid ass.”

And suddenly, it was okay again. They were okay.

It’s been about four weeks since then. Keisuke, of course, offered him not only a place to stay, but all the help in the world, which Kazutora was very hesitant to accept. Partly out of a guilty conscience, partly because he wanted to do this alone. Proof to himself and the world that he could make it on his own. That he wasn’t a complete failure. 

And he really didn’t want to be a burden anymore. Keisuke already did so much for him in the past. His forgiveness was really all he could ask for and he made him worry enough already. 

…and maybe it was also to avoid certain conversations and questions. Kazutora did many things he isn’t proud of and honestly, he just wants to erase the past year. And the year before. There are things he doesn’t want Keisuke to know, so he needs to keep a certain distance between them. 

Therefore, Kazutora stayed only two nights before announcing that he had found a cheap hostel near a modeling agency where he wanted to try his luck. It was a blatant lie. No way in hell he could afford to spend money on a hostel and he didn’t even know where to start looking for a suitable agency, but things would fall into place sooner or later. He just needed some time to rearrange his life. 

Keisuke was skeptical, but didn’t press on it. Instead he got him to promise to call whenever he needed something and insisted that they’d meet at least once a week. 

The notion leaves a weak smile on his face. Kei really is the best friend he never deserved. 

“Hey, asshole.” Kazutora greets him now with a challenging grin, shoving a six pack of beer against his chest. Not the cheapest brand, but something middle priced. “Heard you want to throw a party.” 

He didn’t really fancy the idea, but free food and alcohol were a huge pro and he couldn’t hide from Kei’s college friends forever. Especially that one guy Keisuke kept annoying him with since he moved here to study two years ago. 

Jealousy is one of Kazutora’s worst character traits and he always stalled the conversation when Keisuke tried to talk about ‘that awesome guy he got to know at work, that Kazutora absolutely needed to meet one day’.

Well. He wasn’t so keen on getting to know that awesome guy from work, but he had to make up for a lot of shit and if having Kei back in his life meant dealing with a spoiled college kid, hell, he’d do it. Doesn’t mean he has to like the guy. He probably won’t – and it’s going to be a mutual thing. 

But if this guy wants to judge him or anything, Kazutora won’t hold back to show him his damn place! 

Meanwhile, Keisuke seems rather surprised to see him. “Yeah, well.” He raises his eyebrows but takes a step aside to let him in. “Not at one pm, but whatever, get in, idiot.”

Flashing him a grin, Keisuke pulls him into one of his tight hugs and Kazutora will never tell him, but they are like a safe haven to him. Something that feels like home.  

“I knew that you missed my valuable presence,” Kazutora teases and casually walks over to the worn-out couch as if he owns the place. “So I thought to myself: why not do a good deed and come over early?” Winking, he turns to Keisuke. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Keisuke snorts without any heat in his voice and carelessly piles up his messy notes on the coffee table. There are numbers and graphs and unidentifiable words scribbled down without any logical order. Kazutora still wonders why Keisuke even bothers to major in business management, really. He doesn’t seem to enjoy this whole college stuff and rather struggles his way through the semesters, but Keisuke always says something like that he wants to make his mom proud – so it’s probably nothing for Kazutora to understand. 

His mother is rather a ghost than a person, pale, unapproachable, silent. She never gave a flying fuck about him, so when one day Kazutora just stopped showing up at her place, nothing really happened. They didn’t talk in years and he never missed a single thing about her. She’s never been present anyway. 

“So.” Keisuke slumps down next to him, arms crossed casually behind his head. “How’s life going?” His tone is playful, but Kazutora senses the hidden questions lingering between the lines. 

“Can’t complain,” he dodges with a laid-back grin. “Actually, I met a pretty cute guy at a bar yesterday. Not just cute, but also very skilled with his tongue.”

Keisuke rolls his eyes, tone unimpressed. “Congratulations on getting laid.” With a brief side-glance, he tries to pry more information out of him. “Something more interesting than your sexlife? Found a home yet?”

“I’m on it, mom.”

Keisuke presents him his middle finger and a peeved, “Fuck you,” and the pinprick of guilt in Kazutora’s chest makes him come up with another lie to ease his best friend’s mind.  

“I have a viewing appointment tomorrow, but I’m in no rush. My room is nice and comfortable, you know.” 

Lying straight to Keisuke’s face shouldn’t be so easy, but deceiving people is still what he’s best at. Using it for a good cause is a nice change though. Maybe he can still learn to become a better friend for Kei. 

He can’t read the look Keisuke gives him, but fortunately, he lets it go for now. Kazutora, however, can tell that he is still a bit suspicious. 

The rest of the afternoon melts away with some gaming on Keisuke’s old PS4, easy chatting and some frozen pizza for late lunch. It’s nice, feels like in the good old days and if Keisuke actually had more important college stuff to do right now, he doesn’t let it show one bit.  

However, when evening breaks, the upcoming party becomes a thing again. Yeah. Kazutora kind of pushed that aside. 

“Be nice tonight.” Keisuke reminds him with sharp eyes when he stuffs the fridge with more beer, coke, vodka and rum. The orange juice in between looks more like an excuse, but Kazutora is more thrilled about the banana flavored one. 

“I’m always nice,” he counters, aiming for the banana juice to drink right from the tetrapack, but Keisuke shoves a glass into his hand, eyebrows raised in a silent warning to not test him. 

Kazutora rolls his eyes dramatically and complains mockingly, “When did you get so lame again?” 

“It’s for everyone and I don’t need your spit in my juice,” Keisuke grunts. “But I mean it, Tora. Chifuyu is a good guy and I know that you plan to hate him on principle. So just let it go, kay?” 

The name rings a distant bell, but he never really cared about that guy’s name or anything else about him. Oh, but wait – wasn’t Matsuno from yesterday saying that his forname’s something like Chifuyu? Or was it Mafuyu? Hell, he totally can’t remember. Kazutora isn’t a forname guy. But what a funny coincidence. Doesn’t mean he won’t judge this guy any less though.

“Oh, so you’re fucking? I knew it!” Kazutora passes over the hidden allegations with a smirk. 

“Goddamn it, Tora! No, we don’t fuck!” 

It’s a nerve he hit once too often. Kazutora knows that, but he just can’t stop pressing on it. Can’t stop to imply that Keisuke will abandon him once he hooks up with a guy. 

They were never a thing, but when it came to Kei, Kazutora was always jealous, as if they were in a relationship. Which is pretentious as fuck considering that he was the one who cut Keisuke out of his life due to another guy, but that’s a different story. It’s been – complicated.

“But we’re pretty good friends,” Keisuke picks up the thread again. “So for once in your life, don’t force any unnecessary drama and act like a decent person.”

Another nerve is being hit. Unintentionally, but Kazutora catches bullets even when they’re not aimed at him. 

“Did you tell him the same?” he asks, expression flat, tone cold. 

“What?”

“Just forget it.” Kazutora avoids his gaze, avoids his whole presence, head lowered as he abandons his glass on the counter and rushes past Keisuke. “I’m taking a smoke,” he mumbles, fingers itching for a cigarette, head itching for an off button.

“Tora – ”

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

He’s glad that Keisuke doesn’t follow. Glad for a moment to rearrange his broken thoughts and be miserable in peace.

Kazutora knows pretty fucking well that he isn’t a decent person, but hearing it out of Kei’s mouth is an entirely different story. Kei isn’t supposed to see him that way. All fucked up and destructive, although he is.

And if he’s being honest, he knows that Kei doesn't. Deep inside, he knows. Kazutora is just being overly sensitive and stupid over a very justified request from his best friend. Fuck, Keisuke just knows him too damn well – and that’s why Kazutora will never understand why he sticks with him.

“I hope you told this Chifuyu guy to behave.” It’s a weak attempt to smooth things out, but Kazutora faces Keisuke with a wry smile and steals the bottle of beer he opened for himself out of his grip when he reenters the flat. “Cause if he does, I will too.”

Keisuke, who made himself comfortable at the couch and busied himself with his phone, gives him an unimpressed glance, but doesn’t protest when Kazutora takes a sip.

“I assure you that ‘this Chifuyu guy’ won’t be a problem at all,” he grumbles, giving Kazutora one of these super intense gazes as if he’s trying to find any signs of harm or trouble. When he deems it okay, his shoulders relax visibly and he adds, “He’s pretty excited to meet you, you know.”

“Is he.”

“Kazutora!”

“Okay okay, I’ll give him a chance, I swear.” Kazutora relents and actually means it. His gaze drops to the bottle in his hands and he absently detaches the edges of the label. “Just… don’t be mad if I’m not as overly excited about him as you are.”

Keisuke answers with a deep sigh, but playfully messes up his hair under his huge palm. “Your a big fucking idiot, you know that?” 

“Asshole.” Kazutora groans out, pouting, and dives to the side, but Keisuke’s throaty laughter lets him bite back a smile. 

While Kazutora flees to the bathroom to fix his hair – he goes for a not-so-messy bun – there’s a ring at the door. Maybe his heart pulls a little trick, like clenching with a pinch of anxiety, but he puts on an unimpressed facade, mixed with a hint of arrogance. His resting bitch face is unmatched. 

Chin up high, he struts out of the room to meet the (probably super lame) guy Keisuke greets at the door – and stops midway, when he gets a full look at the guy, who just slips out of his cheap sneakers. 

When their eyes meet, the beaming smile on the guy’s lips freezes immediately, replaced by an expression of utter disbelief and Kazutora is really thankful that Keisuke is busy closing the door so he doesn’t catch his first reaction.

Holy fuck, this really is – and now he remembers his name very clearly – Matsuno fucking Chifuyu, aka the guy who made all of these cute sounds for him last night after Kazutora ruinied his shirt.

Well, uhm, wow. This is unexpected, but the good part? Matsuno’s cheeks flush immediately in that very cute manner, which leaves Kazutora with much more confidence and he can easily slip back into yesterday’s role and overplay that he fucking knows the guy Keisuke never shut up about. Although, knowing might be the wrong wording, considering that he fucked him.

Wow. Keisuke will absolutely kill him if he ever finds out.

Oblivious to their mutual shock, Keisuke turns to him now, hands placed soothingly at Matsuno’s shoulder. 

“So, Chifuyu. This is Tora.” 

He can basically see how some gear wheels mesh in Matsuno’s brain. 

“Uhm.” Matsuno’s adams apple bounces when he swallows. “Hi.”

His smile looks pinched, but he tries his best. 

Hiding behind an amused grin that earns him a glare from Keisuke, Kazutora takes a step forward. 

“Hey, Chifuyu,” he tries the taste of his forname on his tongue. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kazutora.”

Chapter Text

Coincidence. 

Noun.  

‘The fact of two things happening at the same time by chance, in a surprising way.’

Well, screw the Oxford Dictionaries’ definition – that doesn't even begin to describe his situation with Tora. Like in Kazu tora.

It’s not that Chifuyu was that disappointed when he woke up alone. Just a normal amount of disappointed. A damn, I wanted to at least try to give him my number disappointed (which would have led to of course, he doesn’t text me disappointment, but that’s not the point here). 

He is a realist, not a dreamer. Well. He is both, to be fair, but in this matter Chifuyu knows the procedure. He is a romantic at heart, not dumb. A tiny bit of hope is allowed, but always with reality in mind. 

Reality is, that a one night stand is exactly that. A one night stand. Like you stay for one night, have some fun and that’s it. End of the story.

It’s not that he necessarily just wanted to get in Kazutora’s pants again (but Chifuyu isn’t averse to it, of course). He just… wanted to get to know him better. Understand the person hiding behind this (very distracting) smirk.

So when Kazutora agreed to stay over, well, maybe that fueled his hope with the smallest of a spark, but he was under no illusion that it meant anything special. 

And he was right. When he woke up, Kazutora was gone… and Chifuyu was left with a knowing, disappointed smile and countless questions in his head.

Well, and now hello to a pile of brandnew questions that matches the fucking Mount Everest in height.

He follows Kazutora through Baji’s apartment, blinking excessively to make sure this isn’t just a very weird dream. Like, what would his subconsciousness want to tell him with a story like that exactly…?  

“So. You are Chifuyu.” Kazutora concludes, slothing down in the middle of the couch as if it’s his. He lacks the eyeliner today, but the gold of his eyes is mesmerizing enough on its own. “Kei told me a lot about you, you know?”

The notion does something to the pace of his heartbeat, which Chifuyu chooses to ignore. “Well. He told me a lot about you too,” he admits with an amused smile and settles on the ground, with the coffee table between them. This is just too awkward, really – but he is relieved that Kazutora doesn’t just throw the cards on the table. They seem to agree that it’s best to keep yesterday a secret in front of Baji. 

Kazutora raises his neatly trimmed eyebrows. “Really?”

“You’re his best friend.”

“True. And you’re his… best co-worker?”

Chifuyu lets out a small laugh. “Not anymore. I changed from the petshop to a coffee shop. The work’s more annoying, but they pay a lot better.”

“Could you stop acting like I’m not here?” Baji chimes in, grumbling. He squeezes himself next to Kazutora onto the couch, giving his childhood friend an annoyed glance.

“Sorry, Kei. You never told me that this Chifuyu guy is such a cutie.” 

Chifuyu, who just reached out for one of the beers lined up in the middle of the table, nearly chokes on his spit. Flirting shamelessly in front of Baji is another level of flustering and he wonders if they really are on equal terms with not telling him about this. 

Baji, on the other hand, gets visibly upset. “Keep your prying hands to yourself and don’t even think about it!” he snaps and gives Kazutora’s head a little spank. Then he adds with a gloomy expression, “He’s a player.”

“Ouch. Now you’re hurting my feelings, Kei,” Kazutora smirks, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. “Besides, I had a boyfriend until recently, you know.” He gives Chifuyu a playful wink. “Which means I’m free now.”

The mood changes drastically, from tense to downright murderous. Baji’s anger is dangerous like a volcano, boiling up within seconds to a mighty eruption, but it truly is fascinating how he somehow manages to keep it in. Barely, but he does, giving Kazutora the most threatening look Chifuyu has ever seen on him as he violently grits his teeth. It makes his skin crawl, although it’s not even directed at him.

“Help me out in the kitchen, Tora,” Baji spits out, violently hitting his knees at the coffee table when he jumps to his feet. The empty beer bottles on top of it wobble noticeably, but he doesn’t seem to care about that either.

Kazutora sighs dramatically. “Sure.” He stretches himself, obviously playing with fire here and throws Chifuyu another wry grin before he follows Baji lazily. “Don’t have too much fun without us, Chifuyu,” he notes cheerfully and crosses his arms behind the back of his neck.  

As soon as the door closes shut behind them, a heated conversation unfolds and even if Chifuyu would make an effort to not eavesdrop, the paper thin walls turn it into an impossibility to not hear every single word spoken. 

“What the fuck are you up to?” Baji hisses, beside himself with rage. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me, Tora!”

“You wanted me to get along with him, didn’t you? So I really don’t know what your problem is now.” 

“Don’t gimme this bullshit!” The words are accompanied by the muffled sound of a flat palm hitting the wall.

“Aim better next time. Then you might actually hit –  ”

“Stop. I’m serious, Tora.” Baji’s voice is threateningly low now and Chifuyu doesn’t dare to even take a breath. “I know that you’ve been through some pretty fucked up stuff, even if you don’t tell me shit about it and hell, you know that I would give my left arm for you, but don’t pull my friends into your bullshit games.”

There’s a meaningful pause. Chifuyu sits there, frozen in place, as if any too hasty movement would cause a fucking explosion. 

Then Kazutora speaks again, quieter now. “Calm down, Kei, I don’t have anything bad in mind. He is cute and I’m just teasing him a bit, so what? We’re adults. He can take care of himself and so do I.” Kazutora sighs. “I’m serious, okay? I don’t mean any harm. I just – I try to fit in.”

Baji mumbles something he doesn’t understand and then Kazutora laughs awkwardly, but the tension seems to vanish slowly, like thick oil running down a drain.

Letting out a deep breath, Chifuyu leans back and tries to let the situation sink in. Maybe he should feel bad for listening to a conversation he wasn’t supposed to be part of, but then again, they yelled at each other for the whole damn street to hear and it kinda was about him, so no one can really blame him.

It leaves him even more confused though and somehow, he feels bad for both of them. Baji never told him any details, but whenever he talked about his best friend Tora in the past, his eyes brightened up in that particular way, with his smile growing all fond and wistful. It always left a quiet ache in Chifuyu’s chest and he never could quite grasp why. Dismissing it as a pinch of jealousy alone fails to meet it, since yes, he did have a tiny crush on Baji when they first met, but after talking things out and getting properly rejected, they settled for friendship. 

Things with Tora, however, changed after Baji’s last visit to Tokyo.

He came back hardfaced and overly irritable, closing up on the spot about anything that involved Tora.

He's a fucking idiot and if he wants to go and rot there, he can have it! I’m done running after him and his bullshit. Like seriously, fuck this guy! 

Chifuyu never pressed for more information, but he knew that Baji was worried sick. Furious to the bone, but ready to throw a punch at anyone who even thought about badmouthing Tora.

Things calmed down over time, but it remained a painful thorn in Baji’s skin, always throbbing in the back of his mind, but nothing that kept him from moving forward. 

So when he suddenly announced that Tora moved to Kyoto, Chifuyu was more than surprised – and kind of conflicted, to be honest. Like he totally wanted to meet the guy Baji always spoke so highly about, but their huge argument still left a bitter aftertaste. 
It was none of his business and he was in no position to judge though, so when Baji said that everything’s cool between them, Chifuyu settled for being excited and set his mind on getting to know Tora without any reservations. But honestly, some kind of nervousness remained. He had no idea how to approach a person that was so important to Baji and really wanted to get along with him. 

Well. And now it turned out that he actually slept with the guy, so… yeah. That is another level of ‘getting along’. 

Chifuyu washes the thought down with a huge sip of beer and tries to appear innocent of hearing a single word spoken between them. 

Kazutora calling him blatantly cute in front of Baji did leave an impact though, cause honestly, he is attracted to the guy and just because he is off limits, doesn’t mean he is less hot. 

Ugh, why does this have to be so damn complicated? And why again did he allow Takemichi to drag him to that stupid bar yesterday…? Especially since he stayed hardly an hour before remembering that he promised Hina to pick her up from the meetup with her colleagues. 

Chifuyu is always amazed how this guy landed on such a cute and charming girl as Hina – and managed to keep her up to this day. But actually, they are a really nice couple and deep down he is very happy for the two of them. Takemichi just can be a downright idiot from time to time.  

Said idiot arrives together with Hina about ten minutes later and apologizes wordily for letting him down yesterday, but Chifuyu can’t find it in himself to be mad about it. Else, he would have known about Kazutora and that’s a road he really doesn’t want to take. 

Mitsuya, Yuzuha and Hakkai follow next. They are like an inseparable trio and Chifuyu still bets that there’s something hidden going on between Mitsuya and Yuzuha, but maybe that's just his romantic side liking the notion of a childhood friendship turning into love over the years… 

With them, their circle is completed for today.

Chifuyu should feel bad that he is relieved about Ryusei’s absence, but after getting his heart broken by the guy he hardly can. Their relationship had been a constant balancing act between proximity and distance, with Chifuyu wanting to be a bit more like a couple and Ryusei craving a bit more freedom. After getting accepted for a semester abroad in America (which Chifuyu supported and helped him with), Ryusei dumped him. 

It might have been the mature decision and thinking back, Ryusei never really said that he wanted something too serious, but Chifuyu kind of hoped that he’d change his mind and Ryusei knew how to dip his words into honey and fuel his naive wishes over and over again. 

In hindsight, he should be glad that he didn’t waste any more time with a guy who never really wanted to commit to him, but it still hurt like hell. 

Seems to be a thing for him to catch interest in unapproachable guys, huh.

They gather in a circle around the coffee table, downing a welcome shot that Baji prepared for everyone and it doesn’t take long for Kazutora to be the center of attention. 

“So. You’re Baji’s model friend who came all the way from Tokyo to make a career in Kyoto?” Mitsuya opens the conversation, his smile showing polite interest and Chifuyu suddenly remembers that Kazutora really is a model. 

The Kazutora he met yesterday never told him, but from what he knew about Tora, the guy made his living out of modeling for a while now. 

“I am.” Kazutora nods, mimicking the smile, but his fingers fiddle nervously with the neck of his bottle. 

“Wait, you’ve been modeling in Tokyo?” Hakkai interrupts, eyeing Kazutora with sudden interest. 

“Yeah,” he confirms rather distantly, but shows a wry smile.

“Wow, that’s so cool! For which brands? Anything fancy?” Hakkai slides over to get a bit closer to Kazutora, who doesn’t seem to enjoy the sudden attention that much.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs it off as nothing special. “Ever heard of Kurigami? Or Taiki Ishida?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Hakkai expresses his amazement by literally opening his mouth like a fish. “Takashi, you heard this?”

“Yeah. And I’m super jealous now. They are like a huge inspiration.” Mitsuya agrees, eyes wide with excitement. “I’m studying design, in case Baji didn’t tell you.” He nods shortly to the man in question, who just shrugs it off with a sip of beer. “Do you maybe have any pictures? I’d love to see some of their works.”

“Me too!” Hakkai chimes in, eyes glued eagerly to the phone Kazutora gets out of his pocket. “I started doing some modeling jobs, you know. In case you need some advice to get a foothold here – but considering you worked with Kurigami I guess it’s rather the other way around.”

“It was just a small campaign for neckties,” Kazutora mumbles evasively, but Mitsuya and Hakkai don’t seem to mind his slight unease – or maybe they just don’t notice, but Chifuyu does and there’s still so much that he doesn’t understand.

“This is amazing…” Mitsuya whispers in awe and reaches out for Kazutora’s phone. “May I?”

Kazutora nods his head in a yes. “Sure.”

As Mitsuya and Hakkai admire the pictures with clothes of a designer Chifuyu never heard about, he also takes a small peak. 

Kazutora looks nothing short but amazing, dressed in a plain white unbuttoned shirt and a dark pair of suit pants, an artful neon colored tie draped on his bare chest, matching the flashy shoes he wears. His lips are slightly parted as he gives the camera a cool, unapproachable look.

While Hakkai and Mitsuya praise Kazutora with more sounds of amazement and in-depth questions about the fashion industry in Japan, Chifuyu goes for another shot of that awfully sweet cherry liquor that Yuzuha is famous for, to calm down his nerves. Fuck, he has no business of looking so much like a damn supermodel… 

But Kazutora seems more relaxed now, shoulders comfortably lowered as he listens to Hakkai’s experiences with the popular model agencies in Kyoto. There’s even a small smile on his lips that lacks any smugness and if he didn’t know it better, Chifuyu would say Kazutora is somewhat embarrassed about his modeling jobs, which is the most ridiculous thought he ever had. 

It only takes a single question to make Kazutora tense up immediately though.

“Okay, now you gotta tell us why the hell someone who worked with such big names in the industry decided to come to Kyoto?” Mitsuya says and seems to be genuinely interested in the answer. 

Kazutora’s smile lacks the gleam of confidence in his golden eyes. “I heard it’s a cool place,” he tries to play it down. “There are some promising brands around and I’m more interested in  unknown indie labels than the big fish in the industry for now. Plus, this asshole lives here.”

He gives Baji a teasing glance and now the smile actually reaches his eyes. 

“Fuck off, idiot,” Baji bites back and throws him his middle finger, but it’s without any real heat.

The room falls into peals of laughter and Kazutora seems to take this as an opportunity to quietly retreat from the center of attention, excusing himself to the kitchen. He does make a quick stop at Chifuyu though, mumbling quietly enough for no one else to hear, “I’m going to take a smoke. Want to join?”

Surprised, Chifuyu feels like his head gives him a nod. He nearly forgot that they should probably talk in private about some things. 
After Baji’s loud and clear message earlier, Kazutora kept himself more in the background and noticeably turned down his flirty manner towards him, so Chifuyu is kind of relieved that he approaches him anyway.  

“So.” Kazutora opens the conversation as soon as they enter the inner courtyard and snatches a cigarette from a nearly empty pack. “Kei will probably skin me alive if he finds out that we had something yesterday.” His smile is playful, but soft at the edges, revealing more of the real person behind yesterday’s offensive flirting. 

“Yeah. I heard.” Chifuyu admits frankly, returning a pinched smile. There’s no reason to play dumb.

“Oh. Did you.” Kazutora frowns as he seems to give his revelation some thought. The way he takes a drag is distracting, lips forming a little o-shape around the cigarette. Chifuyu shouldn’t stare, but Kazutora is too lost in his own thoughts to notice. 

“He’s a really good friend, you know. Keisuke, I mean.” There lies something soft and infinitely sad in Kazutora’s expression, like the sigh of a restless soul and Chifuyu’s heart aches in response.  

“I don’t want to pry or anything, but… are you alright?” It’s not really his place to ask such a personal question, but the ground they share doesn’t fit into any categories anyway. Not strangers or friends, not enemies or lovers, not a quick fuck or a fun date. Something awkward in between you can’t put a label on, but the question burns on Chifuyu’s tongue and he genuinely wants to know.  

Kazutora is clearly taken by surprise, his eyes widening like those of a deer trying to flee from the sound of breaking branches, but he is quick to snap out of it. “Huh? Of course, I am.” The smile he shows seems to be an automatic response, wide, laidback, with a slight mischievousness in it. Chifuyu doesn’t buy it. He can’t, when Kazutora actively avoids looking at him. 

“Baji said you’ve been through some stuff…” he carefully elaborates further. “Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me any details. He’s just been worrying a lot about you.”

“Yeah, he’s just being an overprotective dick as always.” Kazutora rolls his eyes in annoyance, but it’s obvious that it’s faked. Then he returns to his flirty teasing, gaze traveling back to him with an amused grin. “I’m fine, pretty boy.” 

Chifuyu snorts, but can’t bite back a small smile. “Would you stop calling me like that?” And not just because he can clearly feel his cheeks heating up.  

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” When Kazutora tilts his head, the reflection of the entrance lamp reflects briefly in his challenging gaze. 

“Oh, shut up!” Rolling his eyes, Chifuyu gives his shoulder a gentle push. “You’re saying this to a lot of guys, don’t you?” 

It’s meant to be a joke, playing into the light atmosphere, because he does respect Kazutora’s boundaries, but to his surprise, Chifuyu gets a rather serious answer. 

“Actually, no. No, I don’t.” Taking another drag from his cigarette adds a natural pause. “But I did sleep around a lot. That’s what I’m good at – or at least that’s what I’ve been told.” From his tone alone, Chifuyu really can’t tell if he’s joking now, but his expression is brimming with smugness. “Don’t know if you would agree.”

“Oh, stop fucking with me.” Chifuyu shakes his head in disbelief, but the way Kazutora breaks into laughter loosens the knot in his stomach and he can’t help but to join in as he gives Kazutora’s shoulder another push and urges him to shut up. 

It’s a pretty sound, his laughter, especially when it’s so honest.  

“To our friendship.” Smirking, Kazutora lifts his cocktail glass for a toast. The ice cubes hidden in the mix of rum, banana juice and a bit of lemon clatter softly with the movement. 

Chifuyu takes the invitation, hitting his bottle of beer softly against the glass with a similar grin. “Yeah. To our friendship.”

It’s nice. Talking and joking with Kazutora like this. Despite their, well, unusual start he feels like they can really get along. He wants them to. Not just for Baji’s sake.

When Kazutora finishes his cigarette and crushes the remains under his boot, there is even a little sting of disappointment in Chifuyu’s chest – until his mind offers him the reminder of another excuse to stay here a bit longer. 

“Oh. I nearly forgot!” He opens the topic, fumbling for his phone in the backpocket of his trousers. “Do you maybe own a small sketchbook?” 

To back up his question, Chifuyu skims through the gallery for the pic that he took this morning to share with his seminar group, just to be sure. They were the last people who visited (minus Kazutora) and maybe they knew who it belonged to. Considering that Chifuyu found the sketchbook in his bedroom though, he rather thought about the pretty stranger from last night.

For a brief moment he had the idea to maybe hang a poster at the bar or start a call via social media, but then he brushed it aside as pretty stupid. If the guy wanted it back, he’d know where to find him… or he’d meet Chifuyu at a party the next day, where he turned out to be his closest friend’s best friend from childhood. 

Meanwhile, Kazutora freezes on the spot, every inch of easy playfulness vanishing like the color from his shocked face, before he quickly turns to his cigarette pack and busies himself with getting another one.

“Yeah,” he then shrugs it off as nothing important. “I didn’t even notice that I lost it.”

“But… your art is amazing,” Chifuyu blurts out despite the noticeably tension running thick in the air like motor oil. 

Kazutora pauses visibly, then takes the deepest drag Chifuyu has seen today and exhales the smoke without sparing him a single side glance. 

“How much have you seen?” HIs tone is impassive, distant, but something tells Chifuyu that he is walking on paper thin ice right now.

“Just a few,” he admits with a sheepish smile, the echo of a guilty consciousness building up in the back of his mind. “I just wanted to get a hint who it might belong to, like a name written in it or something. But then I stumbled across your art and… well, I was fascinated, to be honest.” It’s the truth. Once he started, he could hardly put it back and just stopped after reminding himself that it’s pretty rude to skim through something so personal without permission. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.” 

“I don’t fucking care.” Every inch of his tense appearance tells a different story. “It’s just a lame hobby.”

“You're pretty talented for just a lame hobby ,” Chifuyu points out. He gets that it’s somehow a sensitive topic for Kazutora, but there’s no need to play down his skills, really.  

“Oh, please, shut up.” He doesn’t even try to hide his disdain anymore, which only fuels Chifuyu’s inner motivation to convince him that he’s serious about this.  

“I mean it. Like, for real. Baji never told me – ”

“Don’t.” Kazutora interrupts him, a deep, exhausted sigh stumbling from his lips. “Don’t tell him. He’ll just be annoying about it.”

There are so many questions on the tip of his tongue, but Chifuyu can’t ignore the bright red warning line that he is about to cross any second – so he does the only reasonable thing and takes a step back.

“Okay, okay, I get it, mysterious stranger. You want to stay anonymous with your brilliant art and I swear, I won’t tell anyone.” Chifuyu tries to lighten the mood with a pinch of humor. “But I’d like to kindly ask for a portrait of Peke J in exchange for my silence. Deal?"

“Peke J?” Kazutora doesn’t return his smirk, but gives him a rather skeptical glance.

“My cat. I forgive you that you don’t remember.” 

His, admittedly, cheap attempts at humor seem to be in vain. Kazutora’s face remains a blank mask, not even the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, as he seriously seems to ponder his options. It’s as if he actually believes that he needs to buy Chifuyu’s silence, which leaves him not only with a sting of guilt for pressing on the topic so much, but also with this familiar ache in his chest that seems to be intertwined with Kazutora like a shadow. 

“I’m just joking. You don’t have to give me anything in return. For real,” Chifuyu emphasizes. “But I honestly like your art, so if you want to immortalize my cat, I’d be happy to see it.”

Kazutora gives him an unreadable side glance, noting, “You should actually rethink your taste, pretty boy.” With a small smirk he then flicks half of his cigarette away, but something bitter still remains in his expression, like the faint aftertaste of smoke in his kisses. “But whatever, I’ll think about it.”

Chifuyu is glad that he somehow managed to save the mood, really, but he catches himself always wandering back to the tiny details he notices during the evening. The things that don’t add up about Kazutora, who can throw you the most seductive smile, laced with smug words of blatant sin one moment and tensely refuse to meet your gaze, waving off any attempt of a genuine compliment with a distant shrug the next. 

It’s like Kazutora is a complicated puzzle and the only pieces Chifuyu found yet are a dice and a pawn – but giving up is never an option for someone as stubborn as him.  

Chapter Text

Kazutora uses enough pressure to incise his fingerprints permanently into the display of his phone when he deletes the message. It’s one of a hundred different warnings, some clad in honey, others sharp like razor blades.

This has been one of the sharper kind, every word drenched in cold anger and he can imagine every inch of its sender like a pin sharp picture. The piercing tone of his voice, the intransigence in the merciless gold of his eyes, the hand marked as punishment that wraps threateningly gentle around Kazutora’s neck, fingers sensing his pulse to show whose mercy he is at.

I’ll expect you at eight.
And a kind advice, tiger: don’t be late.

“Fucking bastard!” Kazutora hisses under his breath as he blocks his number once again. 

No matter how often he does, said bastard keeps crawling back, trying to pull at the strings he carefully wrapped around his arms, his legs, his neck, but it won’t restrain him anymore. Kazutora isn’t impressed by his stupid demonstrations of power and dominance and he will block this bastard’s new number a million times if he has to!

His deep exhale forms a small cloud of mist that vanishes quietly into the evening air. Winter has the country still in its chokehold. Doesn’t really help to lighten his mood.

Tensed, his fingers reach for a much needed cigarette. Anything to keep him busy and create a distraction from the suffocating weight on his chest. The waves of horror seeping into his mind like a cruel, haunting whisper.

Kazutora wants to pretend that it doesn’t affect him at all, but the pressure of his fingernails digging deeply into the flesh of his upper arm tells a different story. He presses, presses, presses, until the pain is sharp enough to let him breathe, teeth gritted in self loathing. 


“Hey! Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Kazutora’s head shoots up, heart racing ten miles per second, but it’s just the huffing silhouette of Chifuyu Matsuno. 

“Cleaning the coffee shop took a bit longer today,” he explains, a slight blush on his cheeks from rushing here. 

“You can make it up to me with a snack,” Kazutora replies sassily, hiding his unease behind a casual smirk.

He’s been sitting here for something like an hour already, waiting at the three steps stair in front of Chifuyu's apartment for his shift to end, so it doesn’t really matter to him. After yesterday’s party, they agreed on meeting at Chifuyu’s place the next day to get him back his lost sketchbook. The notion of Chifuyu taking a look inside still makes his skin crawl and he can’t wait to hold it in his hands again and deny its existence forever. Maybe he should just burn it – but Kazutora knows that he could never bring himself to. 

Chifuyu snorts as he rumages for his keys. “Lucky for you that I haven't had dinner yet.”

Kazutora just smiles winningly and gets up, stretching his sore muscles. He fails to shake off his tension though, its presence still lingering in the back of his mind like a cruel echo of the life he desperately tries to leave behind. 

Breaking free from a devil’s clutches isn’t easy – especially when he pretends to be your savior. 

“So. Welcome once again to my place, stranger I never thought I'd see again," Chifuyu welcomes him when they enter through his entrance door.

“Thank you, pretty boy I totally didn’t sleep with.” 

Chifuyu falls into easy laughter which has a nice ring to it and unwraps himself from his woolen scarf. “I told you to stop calling me like that.”

Kazutora bites back the first reply his brain offers, deeming a ‘Make me’ as too flirty at this point and settles for a smirk – but if he continues the scene in his head, it would lead to a heavy make out session right here in the doorway. 

Any inappropriate thoughts are interrupted by loud meowing, accompanied by the urgent tapping of tiny feet. Chifuyu’s cat rushes towards its owner, rubbing his little head demandingly against his ankle. From its noises alone you could think the cat is starving for like a week.

“Hello, Peke J. Let me take my shoes off at least, okay?” Gently, Chifuyu smiles at his cat and Kazutora can’t remember that someone ever gave him a look with so much genuine affection in it. It’s a weird thought, followed by an even weirder feeling he can’t label, but he swallows against the sudden dryness in throat.

“I’m going to feed him quickly,” Chifuyu turns his attention back to him and gestures towards his small living room. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

“Sure.” Kazutora nods and casually buries his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore his own awkwardness. 

It’s strange to be here without sex as the main goal in mind and he isn’t really sure how to act around Chifuyu. Kazutora never had anything like friends, except for Kei, but that’s different, because, well, it’s Kei. On top of that, they aren’t even friends, but supposed to become something along the lines. Probably. 

Can they even be friends after they’ve had sex…? 

Sure, Chifuyu is tremendously different from the guys he usually sleeps with, but that makes it even more confusing. 

They weren’t supposed to meet again, especially not as Kei’s friends – and yet Kazutora insisted on picking up his sketchbook himself and even kind of invited himself to stay over for dinner now.

It happened unconsciously or maybe because he does like Chifuyu’s company. It’s hard to not feel comfortable around someone like him and Kazutora tells himself that it’s okay, it’s what Keisuke wanted anyway and there’s nothing wrong with it – but somehow it feels like there is. 

Things would be easier if he could just hate this guy, really and usually Kazutora totally would have, out of principle, but it’s hard to detest someone who treated him so nicely after all the shit that happened.

So, the fucking moral of the story? He should have stuck to his middle-aged asshole pattern and not settle for a good guy he actually thought to be cute. 

“I threw some frozen harumaki into the oven and the rice needs about twenty five minutes I guess. Won’t be a feast, but I hope it counts as a snack,” Chifuyu tells him when he enters the room, but Kazutora’s attention is immediately drawn to the leatherbound book he wears under his arm. His stomach twists uncomfortably in sync with his rising heartbeat and he can feel a tinge of shame creeping into his cheeks.

“Yeah, sure,” he replies indifferently and crosses his arms behind his neck as an excuse to avoid Chifuyu’s gaze. Still, he notices his every move and Kazutora’s tension grows with every step he gets closer. 

“Here.” Chifuyu reaches out his sketchbook to him, the smile on his face a first apology. “Sorry again for not asking before taking a glance.”

Kazutora shrugs, willing his face into a blank mask. “Thanks,” he replies curtly and is very grateful that you can’t hear the load falling from his chest when his fingers touch the stupid book. 

He shouldn’t be so damn sensitive about this, but his next breath is deep with relief. It’s weird. Something Kazutora can’t explain, but drawing is the only thing no one could ever take away from him.

Chifuyu, oblivious to his weird emotional reaction, rips him out of it with his next words. “But I still think your art is amazing, you know.” 

Once again, it hits a hidden spot deep inside, a vulnerable place that he must defend like a mother tiger defends her cub and despite Chifuyu's possible honesty, he can't handle it.

There are memories of indifference and red wine stains on his drawings when it comes to his mom and harsh words or sometimes a sharp hit on the head when it comes to his father.

Boys don’t waste their time drawing. If you ever want to become a man you must stop this useless waste of time. 

He dared to draw again when his father finally moved out, but it remained something personal, something that had to happen behind closed doors. Only once he tried to make an attempt on talking with his mom, but nothing ever came out of it.

‘I thought about taking an art class in school,’ he mumbled, entering the dark living room. The curtains were always closed.

His mom was on the phone, talking to a friend of hers and barely took notice of him. ‘Huh? Did you say something?’

‘There’s an art class in school.’

‘No. I wasn’t talking to you, sorry. The boy is mumbling something…’ she said into her phone, before turning to him with her empty eyes. ‘I’m busy, Kazutora. What do you want?’

‘Nothing.’ 

More waves of memories old enough to be scars flood his mind and he forcefully closes the door to shut them out.

“You wanted a drawing of your cat, didn’t you?” Kazutora changes to a safer topic. It’s not comfortable per se, but a much better option and every possible distraction is welcome now. "Do you have something specific in mind?"

"Not really. I mean – I have a lot of pics if you want a reference, but I'd totally trust you and your skill." Chifuyu smiles gently, before he reassures, "But just if you want to, okay?"

"Sure, it's no big deal." Kazutora shrugs it off, pretending that it doesn't affect him at all. He just wants to get done with this whole topic and if Chifuyu wants a stupid second rate drawing of his cat, he can have it. It’s none of his business, so whatever. 

“Okay, great!” Chifuyu beams. “I’m going to send you some pics and you can choose what to do!”

Kazutora nods and already feels the low vibration of his phone against his thigh. “If you have a piece of paper, I can get started right away.”

“Sure! I can also give you some pens or whatever you might need.”

“My pencil is enough,” he states, fingers already longing for the familiar weight of his old pencil. “Or maybe… do you have some watercolors?” It’s just a fleeting idea, but somehow he deems it fitting for Chifuyu to choose a mixed style. He hasn't drawn like this for a long time, but it feels safe enough to try it. And if Chifuyu doesn’t like it, well, then that’s not his fucking problem anyway.  

“Let me check, I might have something left from school…”

Five minutes later the small table in the living room is drowning in paper, an old, color stained paintbox and cheap paint brushes with plastic handles, which is pure blasphemy, but Kazutora won’t complain. 

“I’m going to take a shower. Afterwards, dinner should be ready I guess,” Chifuyu states and Kazutora, eyes set on the items in front of him, nods without throwing him a single side glance. 

It’s weird, but despite the tension in his limbs he can actually feel a spark of excitement growing in his stomach now and his fingers itch to bring his vision onto paper. 

Kazutora works with quiet efficiency, letting the pencil dance over the paper to a melody he can’t explain. It’s calming like a lullaby and the tight knot inside his chest loosens slowly. 

Being totally lost in the moment, he barely notices Chifuyu’s reappearance. “I prepared dinner in the kitchen,” he says, a slight smile on his lips. Kazutora can’t fight the notion that he already had been here for a couple of minutes, watching him quietly. 

"About time," he tries to play it cool with a smug grin and throws down his pencil, but Kazutora makes sure to quickly get up and block the sight with his body.

Chifuyu just answers with a snort and gestures him to follow. Tiny drops form at the tips of his damp hair, gently dripping down onto his back. And he smells nice. Fresh, with a hint of lemon and something sweet in the background.

Kazutora just notices these details without giving them any deeper thought. It's just facts. 

 "Peke J!" Chifuyu's alarmed voice rips him out of it. He rushes into the kitchen, whisking his arms urgently to chase his cat away from the table which is busy sniffling at a bowl of rice.

“I just fed you, you greedy monster,” Chifuyu complains with a chuckle and strokes Peke J’s fur softly. “Sorry. He’s always hungry. I hope you don’t mind some cat hair here and there, cause honestly, it’s everywhere.” Swiftly, he swaps their bowls, taking the one occupied by his cat just a second ago.

“It’s fine.” Kazutora sits down, examining the food with mixed feelings. There’s a pile of the promised harumaki, three tiny bowls containing spring onions, sesame seeds and some edamame and a box with raw eggs waiting to top his rice dish.

His mouth goes dry. This feels way too domestic for a guy he slept with and is supposed to become friends with – or maybe it’s just way too domestic for him in general. 

“It’s nothing special, but – enjoy your meal.” Smiling contentedly, Chifuyu adds some of the ingredients to his rice. Kazutora just watches, guarded somehow. People don’t make meals for him. Not like this, with actual effort behind it, no matter how small. (Kei doesn’t count. Kei is the exception to everything in his life.)

“Thanks,” he says curtly and quickly picks one of the crunchy rolls with his chopsticks. Then he pulls the egg box closer, slowly, without looking at his host. 

They munch at their food in comfortable silence and actually, it feels nice. Not like sharing a frozen pizza or some instant meal with Keisuke nice, but in a different way. 

“So.” Chifuyu starts with a mouth full of rice, swallowing before he continues. “I was wondering where you even live right now?” 

It's probably meant to initiate casual conversation, but Kazutora's shoulders immediately stiffen. He is such a damn freak, really.

“A hostel.”

“But isn’t that, like, super expensive?”

Kazutora shrugs, trying to dodge the topic with short answers that don’t leave any room for more questions. “It’s fine.”

He pokes in his rice, feeling Chifuyu’s insistent gaze on him.

This is exactly why he knew from the beginning that it’s a bad idea to get in touch with someone like him. Someone who shows genuine interest, asks detailed questions about his life and while some part deep inside him is starving for this kind of attention, the urge to leap up and just run away is nearly unbearable. 

“Well, you know. I really work a lot, so I could use someone who looks after Peke J from time to time. So if you want a cheaper place to stay until you find something on your own – I’m always in for some company.”

Kazutora remains silent and still like a statue, eyes focused on his bowl.

“It’s a bit small, but I’m barely here anyway.”

No reaction, but it doesn’t stop Chifuyu from continuing with his chatting. “I mean, I totally get it if you want your private space, but I wouldn’t mind at all. I guess Baji already offered you his place, but I just wanted to say that you could also stay here.”

It’s overwhelming in every way possible and Kazutora needs some time to let it sink in. At first glance, it sounds too good to be true. Like hitting the jackpot. A nice place to stay, with a cute guy who is neither an asshole nor a creep and most importantly, won’t try some weird shit against his will. Most probably.

He wouldn’t need to rely on Keisuke and could start his new life without the trouble of finding a place to sleep each night, before settling with the next slimy asshole. Would be a huge upgrade.

But at second glance…

“Why? You basically know nothing about me.” Kazutora forces himself to hold eye contact now, eyebrows raised to the ceiling. It doesn’t make sense to him, really. Like, what would Chifuyu get from this? What is he trying to accomplish? 

“Wrong. I know that you’re really badass for starting over in a new town, that you’re a hidden artist, who is way too humble about his own skill, that you’re a talented model who worked with some pretty amazing fashion guys – sorry, I have no clue about this stuff, but I trust Mitsuya and Hakkai – and that you’re pretty charming, but there’s more to you than just your handsome face.” The slight blush painted on Chifuyu's cheeks by these confessions could be really cute, if it weren’t for his confusing and downright dissuasive words. It doesn’t make sense to see any of that in him.

“But most importantly, you’re Baji’s best friend. That’s all I need to know.” He smiles brightly and warm, like you’d describe the sun and Kazutora is torn between three options: flee from here immediately, find the lie in Chifuyu’s words and understand why Keisuke talked so much about this guy, acting protective like a mother hen around him. 

“Do you offer this to all of your hook ups?“ Kazutora teases, overplaying his conflicting thoughts and urges with a grin.

Chifuyu’s eyes grow wide in surprise and his cheeks take an even darker shade of red. “What? No! I don’t – “ When Chifuyu notices his growing amusement, he interrupts his hasty explanations and huffs, “Oh, shut up!“ but his snorting laughter takes the heat from it.

Relief washes over Kazutora as he joins in. It’s fascinating how easy it is to get along with Chifuyu, even when it’s unpleasant stuff he rather wants to avoid.

“But I mean it.“ Chifuyu gets more serious again, but his overall expression remains soft and welcoming. “If you need a place, you’re more than welcome here.“

It’s hard to believe, but even harder to see a liar in Chifuyu.

“Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.“

Chifuyu seems content with that and changes to rumble about how hard it is to find a payable apartment as a student, especially if you own a cat. It’s easier to handle and Kazutora likes to just listen to him, he notes. It’s strangely comforting, although deep inside, he‘s still churned up and it takes some time for him to cool down again.

They finish their easy but very satisfying meal and while Chifuyu takes care of the dishes, Kazutora turns to the black cat that he tries to put onto paper. Its watchful eyes notice every move he makes, but Peke J doesn’t shy away when he gets closer. He just watches Kazutora, curious to see what he is up to. Honestly, he has no clue about pets, but he acts very carefully, giving the animal time to decide whether it wants to interact with him or not. When the cat approaches his flat palm on its own, he reads it as a good sign. 

When they were kids, Kei always said that animals have a natural instinct about humans and their true nature. “ That’s why they always come to me! Because I’m such a great guy!” he said with his cheerful laughter that revealed his sharp canines when he found another stray cat to take care of. “Don’t be shy, Tora. They totally like you too!”

The memory elicits a small smile from Kazutora that he barely notices.

“So. My plan for the rest of the evening is to chill on my couch, watch a nice romcom and move as little as possible.” Chifuyu proclaims after a while. His ocean-green eyes rest calmly on him, and Kazutora can't help thinking that he may have been watching him for a while, just like before.

“I don’t know about your plans, but you can stay and finish your drawing or sleep here if you want to – or you can leave, it’s totally up to you. Peke J and I don’t mind, really.” Chifuyu gives his cat a little pat on the head and leaves some room for an answer.

Kazutora is still twisted, torn between wrong and right, hope and logic, so he chooses to postpone things. 

“I want to fulfill my debt first.” His smile is playful, but his fingers really itch to get back to work.


It’s weird at first. With Chifuyu in the room, he suddenly feels like an invader and coops himself up at the low table, leaving the couch entirely for Chifuyu and his cat. Chifuyu doesn’t press on it, but keeps a free space anyway like a silent invitation for Kazutora to join if he changes his mind.

But it’s not just that. Having someone so close around is like an invisible restraint, but slowly, the hesitation flows out of his fingers like thick tar and allows him to guide the pencil with more ease. 

It’s thanks to the light atmosphere Chifuyu creates without much effort at all. Legs splayed out, he enjoys the mindless movie on the screen with an exhausted but content smile on his lips. He doesn’t pay much attention to Kazutora, but there’s nothing cold or distant about him. Chifuyu just happily watches his show, allowing him to co-exist in this space without any expectations or rules.

It’s…nice. Even relaxing. And at some point, he's completely back in sync with drawing, oblivious about his surroundings and the troubles waiting outside.

Time flows by naturally and when Kazutora adds the last splash of watercolor, it’s like waking up from a nice dream. One that leaves a warm feeling in your chest, like the overly sweetened cocoa that Kei always made, back when they were kids and his mother wasn’t around to check for an appropriate amount of cocoa powder.

Blinking back his slight confusion, Kazutora lifts his head and is reminded of where he actually is right now.

A soft sound of surprise leaves his lips and when he checks his phone, the clock shows that it’s just a few minutes before midnight. The movie is long finished, frozen at the end credits no one ever cares to read and the only sound is Peke J's quiet snoring, who is curled up next to his owner. Said owner got his eyes also closed, head tilted lazily to the left, body motionless and heavy with sleep.

It’s a peaceful sight, showing him a foreign world he never belonged to and suddenly, Kazutora feels really out of place here.

This guy lives his normal life with his normal friends and normal stuff to do and although Kazutora really wants to try and fit in, this isn’t for him. Kei is right. He shouldn’t draw nice guys like Chifuyu into his mess.

His younger self wouldn’t have given a damn, sucking everyone around him in like a black hole without a second thought, but he grew past this. Like, Kazutora really wants to do better. He promised that to Kei, never with words, but always in his mind.

His decision is made just like that. He really thought about Chifuyu’s offer, played with the idea in his head, but… it’s not right. Spending time with him has been nice though and maybe they can do it again. Just chill together and talk. Make more stupid drawings of his cat while he watches weird movies Kazutora never heard about.

His eyes wander back to his finished artwork. It’s not perfect, but fits Chifuyu pretty well in his opinion. Grounded, but brimming with brightness and something unexpected that won’t stay in line just to please others. Peke J is drawn in a more traditional way with his pencil, different shades of gray giving the silhouette of the cat’s body some depth, but he’s more excited about the watercolor highlights. With pale baby blue and amber he added some colorful splashes, adding a unique touch to the artwork.

He wonders if Chifuyu will like it. Hopes that he does – and tries to not care immediately.

Quietly, he gathers the art supplies and cleans the brushes in the bathroom sink, careful to not wake Chifuyu up. Kazutora doesn’t want to see his reaction. Angst is stronger than excitement, despite all the positive comments he got from him so far. It’s too dangerous and he is way too stupid about this whole art stuff.

With one last glance at Chifuyu, Peke J and the drawing set neatly on the table, Kazutora vanishes into the night before the strange ache in his chest becomes too much to bear. 

There’s a pained smile on his face that he forces away as soon as he notices it, but Kazutora can’t kill the underlying longing in his heart so easily. It dreams of normality, stability, a warm, welcoming place to stay and more nice things like this to happen in his life. However, reality is that he needs to find someone who takes him home tonight if he wants to get some sleep soon. So it’s gritting his teeth and getting on with it now.


It’s a tedious game he knows like the back of his hand, but if he sticks to the basic rules, it should be a matter of nothing over an hour.

Kazutora chooses the first-best bar, nothing too cheap though. A possible playpartner is quickly found, lurking at the bar table, alone, with a glass of whiskey in his hands. His hair is dark, short, neatly trimmed. The dark suit he wears not too expensive but nothing of the shelf either. His scarlet tie a bit loosened, the first button of his shirt opened. A classy silver watch is slung around his wrist, massive enough to be noticed, but not too pompous. He’s in the middle of his thirties, Kazutora guesses. Successful enough in his job to not show off in an embarrassing manner, but a man with an ego that needs to be seen.

That’s something he can work with. Kazutora puts on the best charming smile he can offer and gets to work.

That guy is an easy one. After ten minutes, Kazutora has all the information he needs – plus a slender hand on his thigh that presses a plain wedding ring into his leg, but whatever.
It’s a business trip to Kyoto, his hotel just a few blocks away and his perfume smells nice, which is another plus. So, good starting conditions.

But tonight, the hands of a stranger feel pretty heavy on his body and when he breathes suggestive compliments into Kazutora’s ear, the shiver running down his spine makes him uncomfortable.

Maybe he is just too exhausted, but for nights like these, he got his joker card. Liquor is a quick and efficient way to either smother his own squeamishness or send a guy into oblivion, so Kazutora pretends to down one shot after another, watching the guy getting more and more drunk before his eyes.

The downside is that he also gets more touchy touchy. Being dragged onto that stranger's lap is one thing, but getting his shirt shoved upwards in public is a line Kazutora totally doesn’t want to cross – so he deems it a suitable time to walk the guy back to his hotel room.

His kisses are bitter and suffocating, his touches rough and urgent. He bites down hard into Kazutora’s skin, bruises his neck with nasty marks and shoves him harshly against the wall of the elevator.

That’s the risk in pulling this little trick: some guys get unpredictable and pretty violent when they’re drunk.

Yet, Kazutora manages to maneuver the guy into his hotel room and relocate this to a more private space. 

“You’ve got such a handsome face,” the man slurs into his ear, his breath heavy with alcohol as he traces awkwardly over Kazutora’s cheek. It’s the most basic compliment. Kazutora heard it a thousand times and learned that to other people, his appearance is somehow appealing. 

Wet, sloppy kisses are pressed onto his neck as greedy hands slip underneath his shirt and squeeze tightly at every inch they can grasp. It’s far from arousing, but nothing he can’t handle.

"Let me take some preparations in the bathroom, okay?" Kazutora whispers promisingly, although it’s wasted effort. This guy is so drunk, he probably can’t get it up anyway. At least that's what Kazutora was aiming for.

A bitten lip and some more blooming marks on his skin later, he finally manages to flee into the bathroom. Kazutora washes the metallic taste of blood down with fresh water, but a stale aftertaste remains.

When he sees his reflection in the huge mirror, he can only stand it for a few seconds. What he’s doing here is nothing to be proud of. He is nothing to be proud of. And Kazutora really doesn’t want to meet his own eyes now.

The rest is simple and unspectacular. Kazutora takes a long shower, slips into a soft bathrobe and braces himself for the unpleasant possibility that this guy is still awake, but his predictions were right: fully dressed and with his mouth opened slightly, he lies fast asleep on the bed. 

Kazutora lets out a deep sigh of relief. It didn’t sit right with him tonight. It scarcely does, but usually he feels nothing about it.

With a dull ache in his chest, he lights himself a cigarette and tries to find some comfort in it. It barely helps. 

When he skims through the wallet of this guy, he stumbles over the small picture of a little boy, showing a smile that lacks a tooth. His guilty consciousness when he grabs a handful of yen bills is tiny like this guy’s decency and yeah, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, but at least Kazutora doesn’t pretend to be a good person. 

Hardfaced he throws the wallet back onto the bed and decides to take the opportunity and run himself a bath. Getting some distance before he shares a bed with this scum. 

The bitterness in his heart only grows, however, when he sinks into the hot water, diving into a swirl of memories he can’t chase away. 

He can nearly feel the familiar weight of a slender body pressed against his back, sinful and punishing hands running slowly up his torso, the cigarette being plucked from his lips only to get the smoke blown into his face and taste it from a greedy mouth. There are poisonous words clad in honey, expensive champagne from the finest glass and the smell of luxurious hotel rooms. 

Kazutora misses the carelessness of these days, but the price is one he isn’t willing to pay anymore.

He remains in the water until it goes cold. A welcome numbness settled around his body and soul, which will make sleep come easier.

Impassively, he slips back into his clothes, choosing preparedness over comfort tonight. Chances are that this guy doesn't remember him in the morning and if he wakes up before Kazutora does, he rather wants a quick escape.

When he checks the inner pocket of his tiger print jacket he is relieved to feel the leather surface of his sketchbook underneath his fingertips. Maybe this will become a habit. 

Lastly, he checks his phone, out of a routine. There is no message or missed call from another unknown number. Just a text from Kei, asking about their next meet up and a name that makes him bite his bottom lip in a whiff of uncertainty. It's Chifuyu, who texted him about half an hour ago.

Is it a habit of you to leave without saying goodbye?

Underneath, there's a pic of his artwork.

Lucky for you, this looks fucking amazing, so I can't be really mad at you.

Thank you! I absolutely love it, mysterious artist ;)

Kazutora just stares at his phone for a couple of minutes, his mind blank in surprise.

Something warm spreads in his chest, careful, like dainty drops of summer rain and the soft smile on his lips goes forever unseen, but it's a genuine one. 

Chapter Text

Chifuyu really shouldn’t stare so much. 

It’s not on purpose, but whenever he pauses for a moment, he catches himself looking at Kazutora again. His honey colored eyes. His fine nose. The small split in his (very soft) lips. The few visible lines of his tribal tiger tattoo, trailing along his neck like vines underneath his dark turtleneck shirt. The tiny bell dangling from his earlobe, jingling quietly whenever he moves his head in a certain way (and reminding him about other activities where this sound mingled into heavy breaths and moans and yeah, that’s a road he totally shouldn’t go down). 

It’s distracting and not helpful at all, but attraction is really hard to kill, despite his genuine intentions to really befriend Kazutora. However, Chifuyu tries his best not to let it show, especially when being surrounded by Baji, Mitsuya and Hakkai. 

“So, this is the place where the cool college kids meet for lunch?” says Kazutora, head resting casually on his palm. The grin he flashes at Baji has a slight tease in it as he twirls a blond strand around his index finger.

They are at the campus cafeteria, crammed together at one of the last free tables. It’s loud, colorful and crowded. Not the best time to meet here, but with their different schedules they can’t be picky.

“It’s nothing fancy, but cheap and edible,“ Hakkai explains with a shrug and picks up a mushroom with his fork. “But you’re probably used to different stuff.“

Kazutora doesn’t deny nor confirm it, but something pinched creeps into his smile if you look close enough.

“Yeah. He’s used to stuffing himself with junk food,“ Baji snorts, but gives Kazutora a watchful look.

“And yet, I’m an irresistible model. Jealous?“ He teases.

“You wish,“ Baji grumbles, but shoves his soba loaded plate over to Kazutora, who didn’t order anything but a black coffee. “Here. Eat up, Mr. Irresistible model. I know you’re just waiting for the right moment to sneak a bite and I’m full anyway.“

Chifuyu doubts that Baji really is full, considering that he barely ate half of his portion and usually gets a second helping, but Kazutora’s eyes brighten immediately.

“It’s a huge sacrifice, but I’m willing to make it,” he dramatizes with a wry grin, before pulling the plate closer. “We still have a few minutes, don’t we?” He then asks Hakkai with a slight turn of his head.

“Sure. Take your time.”

“Oh, where are you going?” Chifuyu joins the conversation, grateful to do something else than just stare at Kazutora. He’s curious and maybe… well, no, he isn’t jealous or anything, but it’s clear as day that Hakkai admired Kazutora’s work since the moment he dropped these fancy fashion designer names Chifuyu has never heard of before. Not as much as he admires Mitsuya, but it’s pretty obvious. 

“We’re going to show Kazutora my model agency. Bet they will take you in without any second thought.” Hakkai grins confidently at his seatmate.

Kazutora stuffs his mouth with more noodles before he gives an unimpressed answer. “Let’s see what they can offer.”

“It’s probably a solid start, but don’t expect too much. This is Kyoto, not Tokyo, after all,” Mitsuya adds his calm and realistic perspective with a slight smile. 

They start a small discussion about the possibilities of the fashion industry in Kyoto and Chifuyu’s mind goes back to wonder where Kazutora got that split lip from – only to snap out of it when he realizes that he is back to staring again.

In the meantime, the conversation drifted to the importance of comp cards, which apparently is like a business card for models and when Kazutora casually drops that he doesn’t have one, Chifuyu doesn't even think before he offers, “Oh, I can help you with that.” He can already feel the itch of excitement in his fingers that always comes with a new project and throws Kazutora a bright smile. “I mean, I’m not a graphic design student for nothing!”

Mitsuya raises an eyebrow at this and there’s some mockery hidden in his grin. “I hope you don’t plan on adding your Thousand Winters logo onto this.”

The table breaks into laughter, minus Kazutora, who seems mildly confused and Chifuyu himself.

“Oh, fuck off. I was fifteen, okay?” he complains, pouting and feels a wave of heat crawling into his cheeks. 

“Wait, Thousand Winters? ” Kazutora picks up the thread and Chifuyu feels the sudden urge to kick Mitsuya’s chin for even bringing it up. 

“Yeah. It’s Chifuyu’s self designed logo,” Mitsuya offers with a too wide grin.

“I won a prize with it in highschool, okay?” He feels the need to defend himself and gives Mitsuya a deep hearted glare. “Plus, it’s nostalgic and despite what these assholes say, it's still kind of cool.”

“It’s not.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, just fuck you. All of you.” Chifuyu huffs and proudly raises his chin. “I know that it’s not the most brilliant logo ever, but it’s unique and I’m not going to abandon it.”

“That’s totally fine. Just don’t put it on comp cards.” With a smug grin, Mitsuya gives him a light pat on the shoulder, which Chifuyu tries to dodge, but everyone knows he can’t hold a grudge for long.

“Okay, guys. We should get going.” Hakkai places his palms on the table and gets to his feet.

“Wait, I want to see that famous logo,” Kazutora objects with a wide grin on his face. Of fucking course he does.

Mitsuya answers with a hearty laugh and follows after Hakkai. “I’ll show you on the way.” 

“I hate all of you!” Chifuyu points out grumpily, but no one seems to be impressed.

"See you later." They wave their goodbyes and Chifuyu clearly sees the mischievous gleam in Kazutora's eyes when he flashes him an amused smile that has no business being so endearing.  

“So. You’re helping Tora out?” Baji intersperses casually when they’re gone and drags his plate back to stuff the tiny rest of soba that Kazutora left into his mouth.

“Sure! I mean, he’s your friend and – he’s really nice,” Chifuyu says as neutral as possible, trying to not reveal too much about his other thoughts.

Baji snorts. “Tora is a lot of things, but clearly not nice.” 

“And I want to get to know him better.” It just slips out of his mouth, meant to be a harmless statement, but under Baji’s piercing gaze everything feels like a confession.

There’s a portentous pause and Chifuyu tries to act perfectly normal, eyes set on his plate where he focuses on picking up a piece of broccoli with excessive care, but he can’t force back the rising heat in his cheeks.  

“You like him.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Huh?” Chifuyu doesn’t even need to pretend to be shocked by this sudden statement, eyes blown wide as his heart begins to hammer against his chest like a percussion drill. 

“It’s written all over your face.”

“Is it?” Chifuyu tries to play it down with a too wide smile, but he can’t fool Baji. People tend to underestimate him due to his hot-headed temper and his tendencies to rush forward without thinking twice, but Chifuyu learned that he is pretty perceptive when it comes to his friends, even when he doesn’t let it show.

With a deep sigh, Chifuyu gives in. “Okay, okay, okay, don’t get me wrong now. He is handsome. He’s a model, after all. And yeah, I do like him, but… I really just want to get to know him.” He pauses, before giving in to the strange urge to add, “As a friend.” 

“Well, he’s a good guy, but a shitty friend.” Baji grumbles, drawing a messy pattern into the sauce on his plate with his chopsticks. “I’m a dickhead myself, but with Tora – it’s complicated. He’s been through a lot of shit and I don’t mean a silly breakup kind of shit. It’s fine on a superficial friendship level, but if you get too close, he’ll push you away.” Baji stops in his movement, a deep frown on his face. “So don’t expect too much. He doesn’t do it on purpose, but when backed into a corner, he’ll hurt you with no mercy.” 

Baji's expression has something thoughtful about it and Chifuyu's smile softens compassionately. He remembers Baji’s silent struggles after his huge argument with Kazutora all too well and wishes he could do something for him. For both of them, actually.

“You care about him a lot,” he says gently.

“Of fucking course,” Baji grumbles. “I care about both your stupid asses, so I want you to think with your brain and not with your dick or whatever your pining heart eyes are about.” 

“I’m not – is it that obvious?” Chifuyu sputters, taken off guard by this sudden turn. 

“Please, I know that look on your face.” Baji snorts. “It’s not my business or anything, but since you’re my stupid friends, it kind of is. So, yeah, don’t make me punch your ugly faces.” 

Biting his lips, Chifuyu focuses harder on the food in his bowl. This is totally not a conversation he wanted to have anytime soon, or ever, but on the other hand it’s quite relieving to talk to him about it. Keeping things from Baji just doesn’t feel right – although there’s still a tiny detail he didn’t tell him yet… but that’s nothing he should reveal without talking to Kazutora first and it doesn’t even matter that much, right? It’s just been a single night that doesn’t mean anything. …right? 

“Don’t worry, I wanna keep my teeth,” Chifuyu tries to joke with a wry smile, distracting himself from exploring this further.

Baji snorts, but when he shows his pointed canines in a wide grin and messes with his hair, it eases Chifuyu‘s nervous heartbeat immediately. “Great. Looks like we’re on the same page here.” 

“Hey, stop,“ Chifuyu complains playfully, shielding his head with both hands, but deep down, he is really glad that Baji isn’t mad at him.  

“But it’s good that you’re helping him out,“ he states after their halfhearted bickering. “Tora’s always been shitty at taking care of himself and he‘s still avoiding me a lot.“ Baji sighs deeply and mumbles something to himself. “But it takes time, I guess.“

It’s an automatism for Chifuyu‘s mind to come up with a hundred different questions, but he can already spot Takemichi in the distance and doesn’t want to be too noisy. Especially after being caught with his silly little crush just some minutes ago. Yeah. He doesn’t need to elaborate this any further now.

In the next few days, he doesn’t hear a single word from Kazutora. After that lunch break, Chifuyu sent him a short text, asking for information about the comp card and if they should meet to discuss more details, but his message was being ignored completely.

He tries not to read too much into it. Kazutora’s probably busy or just not the type to answer frequently. Still, Chifuyu catches himself hoping secretly to read his name on the display whenever he checks his phone.

It never happens. Instead, he's met with a wry grin one morning, after someone remarks, "You furrow your brows quite a bit when you read."

Kazutora, who slipped into the seat next to him as if he belongs in the lecture hall like everyone else, has his hands wrapped around a vending machine coffee and gives him a playful smile. He wears his ugly tiger print jacket, an expensive designer piece he learned from Mitsuya.

It’s eight in the morning and the room is barely filled. Typography lectures are often skipped in favor of getting more hours of sleep, so Chifuyu is surprised in more than one way to see Kazutora here.

“What are you doing here?” he asks perplexed, putting his forefinger between the pages of his manga to remember where he stopped reading. His mind is racing a mile per second, trying to figure out the meaning of this, but there’s no satisfying answer. It just doesn’t make any sense.

Kazutora shrugs, deepening his smile. “Someone promised me to help with my comp card.”

“Sure, but…I’m having a lecture in, like, ten minutes.“ He gestures to the front, where his professor already takes his preparations.

“Yeah, I know. I got your schedule from Kei. Or rather, his phone,“ he explains smugly as if it’s no big deal at all. “And I always wanted to know what you college kids are doing, so I thought I’d just show up here and then we’ll talk about the comp card stuff later. Killing two birds with one stone, you know.“

“Uhm.“ Chifuyu blinks, still trying to make sense of the situation. “I need to go to work afterwards.“

“Fine for me. I’ll surely need another coffee later.“ Kazutora shakes his paper cup and takes another sip. He seems totally unbothered, chilling in his seat as if they’re at a coffee shop instead of university.

He’s probably not even allowed to be here without any registration, but Kazutora looks like he couldn’t care less.

“You could’ve just replied to my message, you know,“ Chifuyu hints subtly, without any reproach but a clear teasing undertone.

“But that would’ve been so boring,“ Kazutora counters. “Plus, I wouldn’t have seen your dumbfounded expression, which was priceless, by the way. Wouldn’t want to miss that.“

“Oh, shut up.“ Chifuyu rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bite back his smile.

And just like that, he suddenly sits in his morning lecture with Kazutora next to him.

It’s kind of distracting, the soft jingle of a bell a frequent reminder of Kazutora‘s presence and he realizes that he likes that sound. It‘s quiet and subtle, but has a nice, unique ring to it. Far more appealing than the bored remarks of his professor, but not really advancing or helpful for Chifuyu‘s tiny maybe-it’s-something-like-a-crush.

When Kazutora leans over to his desk to scribble something into the organizer he keeps next to his old and infirm laptop, it doesn’t make things better. The scent of his shampoo, something unobtrusive and refreshing that is probably called Deep Blue or Eye Of The Ocean , is suddenly very present and Chifuyu’s fingertips still remember the softness of black and blond strands when they slid through. 

If this was a shojo manga, he’d brush away the hair that hides Kazutora’s face, tuck it behind his ear and then, when their eyes met, he’d lean in, very slowly, for a kiss – but in reality, he silently watches the back of Kazutora’s head, lips stretched into a pinched smile as he cringes about his own train of thoughts.

Chifuyu has never been ashamed of his reading preferences, but the gap between his logical mind and his heart’s romantic fantasies is like the Grand Canyon and he really prefers to rely on his brain.  

While his prof mumbles something about font styles that he probably should remember, Kazutora  finishes his doodle and leans back with a wry grin on his face.

“Did I make it right?”

The teasing undertone is nothing new and Chifuyu pulls his organizer a bit closer, curious and guarded in equal parts. 

Heat rises into his cheeks as he recognizes the logo he designed ages ago, with a comic version of Peke J in the middle of a snowflake. 

Kazutora added a small chibi version of Chifuyu underneath the Thousand Winters logo, arms raised in a praising gesture, with a wide and proud grin on his face. It’s cute and embarrassing at the same time.

“Very very funny. You can go and fuck off with the rest,” Chifuyu answers whispering but with the appropriate heat in it and nudges him playfully with his shoulder, fingers spread across the doodle to shield it from Kazutora’s gaze, but his heart does something funny in his chest and he can’t hold back a slight chuckle. 

Smugly, Kazutora takes another sip from his coffee, but his smile freezes immediately when Chifuyu casually intersperses, “You also draw in manga style?” It’s not just to distract from the logo his younger self came up with, but also driven by genuine curiosity and his tiny hope to help Kazutora gain a bit more confidence in his skills. 

“I don’t really draw anything,” he dodges and fumbles at the edge of the cup. “I used to draw some crappy manga sketches when I was younger, just like everyone else. There’s nothing special about it. But apparently, you’re really easy to impress, Chifuyu.” The smirk that Kazutora throws him has no business of being so distracting and his cheeks flush in an even brighter red. “And here I thought I could pride myself on being taken home by you when we met at that bar. But you’re not really that hard to get, huh?”

It’s fascinating how quick emotions can change, from embarrassment, to surprise, to anger and back in the friction of a heartbeat.

“What – shut up!” Chifuyu repels, exasperated about the implication. More heat rises into his cheeks and he feels the sudden urge to defend himself. “This is none of your business, but – usually, I don’t do this, okay?” 

He’s not even sure what gets him so worked up about this, but it unerringly hits a nerve. For Chifuyu, it was a big deal. A huge step out of his comfort zone and although it led to a rather confusing situation, he doesn’t want to treat it as something insignificant. And besides that, it's just kind of rude to say something like this. 

“I wouldn’t judge you,” Kazutora teases him more, but Chifuyu’s face seems to reveal something that makes him backpedal quickly. “Sorry. I have this habit of fucking up the mood, like Kei would say. It’s a bad character trait, but I try to make up for it with my charming smile.” Kazutora does smile in that coquettish way, but it’s a fake expression that doesn’t reach his eyes at all. 

Then he stretches his arms, resembling a cat that just woke up from a deep slumber and concludes, still with that fake smile on his lips, “You know what? This is pretty boring, actually. I always knew that I’m not made for this college stuff. I’m going to wait outside.”

Chifuyu doesn't even get the chance to come up with a reply, watching perplexed how Kazutora gets up in the middle of the lecture and rushes out of the hall without taking a single look back.

Dumbfounded, Chifuyu just stares at his vanishing silhouette, trying to comprehend what just happened. 

It’s like Kazutora built up a massive wall out of nowhere, retreating without a second thought when he realized that he might have overstepped a certain line – and he didn’t even give Chifuyu the chance to say anything to it. 

Like, yeah, it was pretty rude, but nothing he’d hold a grudge about. So what the hell just happened?

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and Chifuyu is torn between the urge to go after him and talk this out and the mature option of remaining in the lecture hall and actually listening to what his professor has to say.

Imagining how such a conversation would probably go, with Kazutora avoiding the topic like the plague and Chifuyu ending up with even more questions he needs a lifetime to solve, he decides to not draw more attention to himself for now and remains in his seat. 

His thoughts, however, circle around Kazutora the whole time and he can’t tell what the lecture was about afterwards.

When he leaves the hall, Chifuyu isn’t surprised to neither hear the soft jingle of a bell, nor spot that ugly tiger print jacket he can’t really bring himself to hate. Kazutora is gone and although he somehow expected this, Chifuyu can’t deny the slight sting of disappointment in his chest.

He really has no idea what his deal is or why he sometimes acts like a kicked kitten, always wary and ready to show his claws if needed, but Chifuyu doesn’t let it go so easily. He’s sure that Kazutora isn’t averse to his company – he’s just pretty ambiguous, changeable like the weather and maybe he just doesn’t know, well, how to make friends…?

So it is a habit of you to just leave without a word. Chifuyu puts his thoughts straight into a text message and after a small sigh, he adds, I work at the Drip & Drop coffee house near the campus btw. Come over, if you want a good coffee (and a comp card :P).

He doesn’t bet on getting a reply, let alone that Kazutora is going to show up, but he wants to try at least. 

As expected, he is left on read. Chifuyu notices just before his shift at the coffee house begins, when he checks his phone out of habit.

But Kazutora is up for another surprise today as he finds out later. 

It’s a busy shift and Chifuyu has barely time to take a breath between brewing coffee and serving overpriced cake and sandwiches on small plates. None of the customers is Kazutora, but when he settles in the cramped break room later to get a sip of water, there actually is a reply on his phone. 

Sorry. Something came up. See ya, busy college boy.

A small smile stretches his lips that’s somewhere between happy, amused and also a bit pouty due to the new nickname. It’s better than pretty boy and at the same time it’s not, but it leaves him flustered all the same. Somehow. 

With a sigh, Chifuyu shakes his head and types, Right, see ya, busy, irresistible model guy. and deletes the irresistible- part on second thought. It’s been Baji’s joke, after all and he doesn’t want to act too flirty.

Getting a reply from Kazutora, although it’s a cancellation, is still a real mood lifter. He can’t explain why, but it feels special, like getting allowed to pet a particularly picky cat. 

A cat that likes to appear out of nowhere and demands his full attention whenever it does.

It takes another five days before it happens again. Somehow, Chifuyu expected Kazutora to show up at the coffee shop or at his lecture hall again, but he seems to like being unpredictable. So instead of just catching him off guard in person, he chooses a simple message this time. 

You still up?

It’s in the middle of the night, half past twelve and Chifuyu dozed off in front of his TV show for the third time probably, but the quiet vibration of his phone still catches his attention. Yawning, he lazily stretches his arm out to the coffee table and checks who texted him.

When he reads the name, his heart drops a beat, 'cause yeah, it’s a crush, he got it now, but his eyebrows also shoot up in a silent question.

Kind of. Why?

Chifuyu stares at his display as if he could pry the answer out of Kazutora faster that way, but the next minutes pass in tense silence. His expression turns into a frown and just when he lowers his phone, another message appears.

Wanna work on that comp card now? I can pay with a beer.

A second later, the grainy pic of a six pack pops up on his display as a proof.

Chifuyu frowns in disbelief, wondering why Kazutora always chooses such weird times or places to approach him. Like, it’s a weekday and although he doesn’t need to leave the house before ten tomorrow, it’s still unusual.

Have you checked the clock? Chifuyu replies, a wry smile on his lips. He hasn’t decided what to do with this yet, but a slight tease seems appropriate.

Yeah. It’s like the perfect time to make a comp card!

He can’t help but to chuckle in amusement, picturing how Kazutora flashes him that playful grin. He’s not sure if he’s really in the mood or condition to create something presentable now, but having a beer with Kazutora doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Well, if it wasn’t for his very tired state and the high possibility that he’ll fall asleep before the man will get here.

Chifuyu‘s pondering comes to a sudden halt when he receives another text.

You know what? Just forget about it. I’m going to leave the beer at your doorstep and we’ll do this, like, another time.

“Wait…,“ Chifuyu mumbles, typing with growing confusion , You’re at my doorstep?

He receives no answer and with each passing second, he feels his heart increasing its efforts to hammer against his chest.

Eyes blown wide, he rushes to the door, grabbing his keys in passing before he runs down the stairs without even bothering for shoes. Wearing worn down sweatpants, an oversized hoodie and cozy socks with a black cat print, he opens the front door of the apartment complex. 

A wave of cold night air hits him in the face as he takes in the scene. The six pack of beer was placed at the first step of the staircase like an offering. Kazutora, one hand at the handle of a small suitcase, the other one buried in his tiger print jacket, turns his head to meet his gaze. Apparently he was just about to take his leave.

Chifuyu doesn’t know what to say or even think as surprise changes to a casual grin in the blink of a heartbeat with golden eyes gleaming up to him in the dim light of a street lamp.

 “Oh. Hey, college boy.”

Chapter Text

Kazutora still isn’t sure how he ended up here.

It’s been a constant debate in his mind between the pro Chifuyu and the contra Chifuyu side. The former kept reminding him of all the comforts he’d gain if he agreed to Chifuyu’s offer (given it is still an option, but honestly, from what Kazutora learned about him by now, he doesn’t doubt it for a single second). The latter pressed on the fact that he should keep away from nice people like him and, like Kei said so accurately, don’t drag Chifuyu into his mess.   

It’s an ongoing conflict, a balancing act between approach and withdrawal, without knowing about the right amount of either.  

Hell, this shit is just super confusing, but necessity is the mother of invention, so here he is.

The idea had been floating around in the back of his mind like a tiny fruit fly; easily ignorable, but still present.

Kazutora always shoved it aside with a wave of his hand, but things changed when he got the invitation for a casting. Hakkai's agency didn't hesitate to sign him after he showed his set card and revealed some big names along with it, but Kazutora couldn't really share the manager's excitement, hoping his smile looked rather humble than pinched

Looking at these pictures always comes with a different set of emotions, but pride and excitement are none of them. Plus, Kazutora really can't perceive it as something he accomplished himself and the price he had to pay is a bitter taste he can't get rid of. It's like shotgun kisses with cold fingers at his throat. 

Of course. It all comes back to Shuji, in the end. This bastard really made sure that Kazutora won't forget about him so easily.

But he doesn’t need him. He got this contract by himself and now he got an invitation for a casting by himself. He can fucking do this!

Said casting is the reason for showing up at Chifuyu’s place now. He didn’t find some new asshole to stay with for a longer time yet, but he’ll need a shower and a quiet room with a mirror to put on some make up and do his hair properly.  

It’s an important job and nothing you pull off at the restroom of a worn down bar or a cheap twenty four hour diner. Kazutora needs an absolutely flawless facade without a single stain or speck of dust on his clothes and every strand of hair being perfectly in place.

So he swallowed down all of his objections and reasons to hesitate before showing up here with his sparse belongings, telling himself that Chifuyu is still a better option than Keisuke. 

His better option is staring at him now with wide eyes, dressed to spend the rest of the night comfortably on the couch and not leave his apartment anytime soon. 

It’s kind of cute, that look, and Kazutora takes the opportunity for distraction with a smug comment about Chifuyu’s appearance. “Cool socks. Are they inspired by your Thousand Winters logo?”

“Wha – shut up!” It’s also cute how his expression changes from embarrassed surprised to embarrassed angry within a heartbeat, Kazutora notes.

“What are you doing here?” Chifuyu changes the topic, cheeks flushed with a pretty shade of red. 

Kazutora shrugs casually. “I told you. Wanted to bribe you with beer to get my hands on a comp card.” He finishes with a wry grin, but Chifuyu's expression remains watchful.

That’s the downside of this option. Chifuyu may not be expecting anything for now, but digs for answers that most people don’t care about.

“But – ” He insists and gestures at Kazutora‘s suitcase, proving his point at once. “Why did you bring all of your stuff?”

“There’s mold in my hotel room.” The lie gets as easily over Kazutora‘s lips as a breath of air.

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me right away? If I knew I would have invited you over immediately!” Chifuyu states vehemently. “Damn, what if I told you no?”

“Wanted to test my luck I guess.” Kazutora throws him a wry smile, before embellishing his story further. “I just got kicked out like half an hour ago and since finding a new room at this time is a pain in the ass, I remembered your offer, so yeah. Here I am.” 

Chifuyu listens and then shakes his head in slight disbelief. “You could have asked like a normal person, you know.”

Kazutora’s grin deepens. “But that’d be boring and in case you haven’t noticed yet, but – I’m not a normal person.” 

Chifuyu rolls his eyes at that, but gives an amused laugh in the same breath. “Yeah, whatever, get in already.” 

Five minutes later, he finds himself in the middle of Chifuyu’s apartment, a freshly opened can of beer in one hand and a curiously sniffing cat nose on the other one. 

It’s weirdly comfortable to be here again, but Kazutora is still conflicted about this. While Chifuyu is busy picking up a pillow and tons of different blankets (seriously, does he own a collection or something?), he tries to relax though.

“I don’t know if you prefer a thick or a thin blanket, but you can cushion the couch a bit more if you want. Anyway, if you need anything, just tell me. I can also give you more pillows.“ Chifuyu chatters as he piles up the stuff next to the couch.

Playfully, Kazutora raises an eyebrow. “Wow, you want me to move in or something? Isn’t this a bit too fast?“

The tips of Chifuyu’s ears turn into a deeper shade of red and he furrows his brows, before throwing a pillow right into his face. “It’s called hospitality, idiot.“

Laughing, Kazutora fends off the half-hearted attack, before he replies more seriously, “It‘s fine. You don’t need to bother. I’d sleep on the floor and be content with it.“ He wraps it up with a thin smile, although it’s the truth. Kazutora really doesn’t expect anything. Having a place to stay where he doesn’t need to bother about satisfying the needs of slimy assholes is more than he can ask for.

“Yeah, sure.” Chifuyu snorts and plumps himself down on the couch, hand reaching for one of the cans. “I’m letting myself be bribed with a beer now, but I suggest we get to the comp card stuff tomorrow. I’m kind of exhausted and I want it to be good.”

“Sure, don’t worry about it. I didn’t need it up till now anyway.” He didn’t try to get any jobs all by himself up till now either, but Chifuyu doesn’t need to know that unnecessary detail.

“Nah, you’ll get it. Just tell me when you have your first, well.” He gestures into the air with his free hand, looking for the right word. “Model thing.”

“You mean a job casting?” Kazutora flashes him a teasing grin, before stating, “Tomorrow.”

“To… morrow?” Chifuyu gives him a look full of disbelief. “Wow, okay, I’m done asking at this point why you didn’t tell me earlier.”

“I’m always full of surprises.”

“Fine. But you’re interesting enough without these ‘surprises’, you know?” It’s not meant solely as a joke, that much is obvious.

Kazutora hides his thin smile behind another sip of beer. This would be much easier if Chifuyu wasn’t so cute, really – or if Kazutora could actually give this a shot. 

Which is not gonna happen. 

Chifuyu might like the facade he puts up, but no one would settle for what’s underneath. The ugly truth of his wretched existence. 

“You have such a nice way of telling me that I’m hard to deal with.” Kazutora counters casually and watches with strange delight how Chifuyu’s expression changes to shocked surprise.

“No, I didn’t – ”

“I know. I’m just fucking with you.” Kazutora adorns his grin with a playful wink and falls into laughter when he sees how Chifuyu rolls his eyes to the ceiling. 

“You really can be an asshole,” he snorts and bumps his shoulder slightly against his.

“Told ya.”

After giving it some thought, Chifuyu announces, “Okay, okay, you know what? Challenge accepted. Give me some pics you want to include and tomorrow, you’ll have the best comp card you have seen in your entire life.” His eyes are brimming with determination, matching the bright smile he shows and Kazutora doesn’t quite know what to do with this.

Lifting his eyebrows in surprise, he plays it down immediately. “Whatever makes you happy, but it’s really not that important.” 

But Chifuyu seems to see things differently, scrolling with visible excitement through some of the pics that Kazutora sends him without giving them a closer look. 

“Wow, this looks amazing!” he states, shoving the display of his phone into Kazutora’s face to show him, well, himself. It’s a close up, black and white, with only his eyes left in their natural golden color to match the parfum flacon he presses against his cheek. His lips are slightly parted and Kazutora remembers the lewd praise that Shuji whispered into his ear when he examined the final result.

A sick feeling crawls up his stomach and he averts his gaze, taking Chifuyu’s cat into his focus instead. It’s a very welcome distraction.  

“It’s not that special. Just pick some that match, I don’t really care,“ he then says, trying to appear unaffected.

There’s a short pause and he can clearly feel how Chifuyu’s sharp eyes observe him, leaving him on edge, but Kazutora keeps concentrating on petting Peke J.

It doesn’t really help and Chifuyu’s next comment hits the mark.

“It’s not just your art. You also don’t like to talk about your model pics, do you?”

Kazutora’s first reaction is a sarcastic snort. “I’ve seen them like a million times and there are far better models than me out there,” he dodges coolly and immediately prepares another defensive reply that will get him more distance.

But Chifuyu just gives him another intense look, before his expression softens and he casually leans back. “Okay. I’m going to finish my beer and then I’ll get to work and leave the couch to you. Sounds like a plan?” His smile is calm and cheerful. There’s no further questioning. No pressure.

It’s confusing. It doesn’t make any sense.

Chifuyu seems to see right through him, which is uncomfortable enough, but instead of using it against him, he just lets it go…?

“You’re really weird, Chifuyu. You know that?” Kazutora tells him straightforwardly, an easy smile on his lips, which earns him an eye roll, topped off with a sarcastic response.

“Wow, yeah, and you’re not rude at all.” But there’s no edge in his voice, just something playful and slowly, the tension flows out of Kazutora’s shoulders and allows him to relax.

They watch a mindless show, some romantic sitcom about two guys and two women sharing an apartment, while they drink their beer. Now and then Chifuyu drops some extra information or points out a small detail he notices as if it’s totally normal that they do this.

It’s kind of…nice.

Kazutora nearly forgets that he basically showed up out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, but Chifuyu doesn’t seem to mind at all. He really is weird...

Staying true to his words, Chifuyu retreats to his bedroom after finishing his beer, a slim laptop tucked under his arm. He wishes him goodnight with his friendly smile and a wave with his free arm and just like that, Kazutora is left alone, with the freedom to do whatever the fuck he wants. 

At first, he just kind of sits there on the couch, trying to adjust to the situation. The way Chifuyu acts, he can’t help but to feel welcome here, but it’s an unfamiliar concept to him. 

Keisukei is the only one who ever made him feel that way, but the thought of him still sends a prick of bitter guilt and regret through his chest. 

Nevertheless, Kazutora tries not to think too much about it. He will pay Chifuyu back for it as soon as he can and try to be a good friend for Kei in the meantime. He just needs some initial aid to get moving and then everything will fall into place. 

After loafing around for some more minutes and catching himself how his gaze always darts back to the set of towels that Chifuyu left him, he decides to just take the relaxing shower his body aches for. 

It’s way past midnight, but he’s pretty good at being quiet and invisible if he wants to. 

When he approaches the door, his gaze grazes a newly hung picture and in response, his heart drops a beat.

In a thin, black frame, there is a drawing that his fingers still remember. Kazutora hasn’t noticed it before, but now his attention is drawn to it like a moth to the flame of a candle.

Carefully, he reaches out his hand, tries to swallow the huge lump in his throat and pauses midway. 

He can’t stand the sight. Can’t stand the thought of someone, of Chifuyu, getting a closer look at it; of even hanging it up in his living room as if it’s nothing or rather something worth to be seen. 

But there’s a pinched smile on Kazutora’s face when he averts his gaze and something warm spreads in his chest, gratitude and maybe even a dash of pride, hidden underneath the overwhelming shame that burns nastily in his cheeks and urges him to just rip it down. 

He doesn’t. Instead, he lets it pass and tries to dwell in that tiny nice feeling a little longer.

Chifuyu… really is weird. 

All of this is. 

It’s a realization that kicks in once again when Kazutora finds himself lying between thousands of different pillows and blankets, with the smell of Chifuyu’s shampoo in his nose, adding another layer of comfort. 

He is used to unfamiliar people and places by now, but being left alone in peace, without any expectations or conditions hiding in the dark is something new. Something that feels quite nice, to be honest, but it still takes some time for sleep to come and no matter how safe his surroundings may be, his dreams aren’t. They never are.

It feels like it‘s way too early when a muffled sound rips him out of his slumber. Kazutora is a light sleeper and immediately on edge. Out of instinct, he darts into an upright position and warily skims his surroundings with his heart beating ten miles per second.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he expects a familiar voice to mumble, ‘What’s up, tiger? Having nightmares again?‘, but those times lie in the past and Shuji isn’t here to pull him back into bed, eyes gleaming with obvious amusement.

There’s no one breathing down his neck either, arms slung possessively around his torso while the hands of a stranger greedily touch his body as if it belongs to them, demanding him to give, give, give.

Instead, Kazutora is still in the tiny living room of a college student who offered him a place to stay for free and with that realization kicking in, his sleep drunken mind manages to slowly calm down.

The dull clattering of plates and cutlery seeps through the door and a peak at the plain clock on the wall tells him that it’s half past six in the morning. Not quite his preferred time to shine and rise, but he’s good at adapting to his surroundings.

Yawning, Kazutora stretches his arms and tames his hair with a quick, messy bun. When he passes his framed drawing, it still does something funny to him and he keeps his gaze on it only for a few seconds, but he can’t deny that there’s a soft smile pulling at his lips. 

It takes a moment for Chifuyu to notice his presence. He talks quietly to his cat, praising its healthy appetite as he pours tiny mountains of coffee powder into the machine. 

The sight makes Kazutora ache for something he can’t name and never had. 

“Oh. Hey!” Chifuyu’s surprised expression changes to a genuine smile within a heartbeat when he finally sees him. “Did I wake you up? Sorry, I tried to be as quiet as possible, but Peke J can be a real drama queen when he wants to get his food.” He rolls his eyes in the fondest way that Kazutora has ever seen.

“It’s fine. I was awake anyway,” he waves it off.

“Good, cause‘ in that case, you can decide for yourself which version you prefer,” Chifuyu states without any further explanation. “But first, coffee! Uhm. If you want coffee.” His smile grows somewhat apologetic. “What do you normally have for breakfast? I wasn’t prepared for guests, but I have some basic things and I can get something from the grocery store after work later.“

The indication that Chifuyu expects or rather allows him to stay more than one night shouldn’t surprise him, but leaves him stunned nevertheless. 

After clearing his throat and successfully swallowing whichever weird feeling settled there like a lump, Kazutora replies, “Just black coffee is fine.”

“Got it. Just treat yourself when you get hungry later on. You’re free to take whatever you want.”

Kazutora nods curtly, knowing he is going to be very careful with this offer. It doesn’t sit right to take from Chifuyu without giving anything back to him. Usually, Kazutora doesn’t really give a fuck, but usually, well, people aren’t like this. The people he surrounds himself with aren’t. 

Plus, he hates to be in debt to someone. You’ll never know when they demand a payback nor in which way. 

In favor of awkwardly standing around, Kazutora sits down at the kitchen table and watches how Chifuyu gets a bowl out of the cabinet to the sound of the slurping coffee maker. His hair is a mess, with one strand protruding visibly from the back of his head. The epitome of bedroom hair. It’s something between kind of cute and kind of sexy. 

“Did you sleep well?”

“Huh?” Caught, Kazutora blinks in surprise.

Chifuyu turns to him, an amused smile playing around his lips. “Not a morning person?” he concludes, getting a container of hazelnut milk out of the fridge while he talks. “I just wanted to know if you slept well.” 

“Yeah. Sure.” Kazutora gives the answer that Chifuyu probably wants to hear, although he didn’t get that much sleep. Being here feels safe, but his nightmares make sure that he never forgets where he came from.

Contently, Chifuyu nods and continues with some easy smalltalk as he goes through with his breakfast routine.

A couple of minutes later, there’s a steaming mug in front of him. Kazutora wraps his hands around it to catch some of its warmth and fight the urge for a smoke. 

“So,” Chifuyu starts and swallows a mouth full of granola before continuing. “Here’s what I thought of: You choose a comp card, I’ll go to the copy shop next to my work place and tell them to print it and you’ll come and get it from me before you go to your job casting thing.”

Chifuyu pauses, digs his spoon into his bowl and stuffs his mouth with more hazelnut milk and granola. There are small pieces of fruit and something that looks like tiny cookies in between.

Focusing on Chifuyu’s breakfast is easier than processing his words, Kazutora notes.

Unbothered, Chifuyu goes on explaining, “It’s near the campus, so they are used to working super quickly. Some college students want them to print their thesis like three hours before their deadline.” He grimaces. “I already imagine Baji in a situation like that, to be honest.”

Kazutora doesn’t really respond to it, mind still caught up on that first part.
It’s not that he is even particularly surprised about this. Chifuyu actually told him that he’d work on his comp card and it matches him that he’d go all out and come up with a plan like this, but that doesn’t make things, well, less overwhelming. 

“Anyway, what do you think? You can even grab a cup of the best coffee in town while you’re at it! Okay, to be fair, maybe it isn’t the best coffee, but it’s a pretty decent coffee – plus, you’ll get it from me.” His smile is rather cute than challenging and Kazutora can’t help but to pick up the thread.

“How could I ever deny such an offer from such a… I’d say pretty boy, but I’m not allowed to anymore, am I?” he replies, grin all smug despite the bubbling anxiety in his stomach. 

Choosing a light flirt over his restless mind that constantly ruminates about the why behind Chifuyu’s actions seems like the natural thing to do. It’s a welcome distraction and safer territory.  

This is why he hates nice people, really. They are so fucking unpredictable and Kazutora can’t stand the thought of getting this for nothing. There is always a price to pay and he prefers to set it himself. 

Meanwhile, Chifuyu snorts, before pointing out, “Shut up, I’m not the model here.” He sends Kazutora a half-hearted glare, but the way his lips twitch betrays him. 

After taking another spoon full of his breakfast, Chifuyu excuses himself to his bedroom to go and grab his laptop.

Yeah, right. He still needs to get a look at his excuse for coming here in the first place, especially since his host spent the whole night creating it. The hint of a guilty consciousness brushes over him, but honestly, who could’ve predicted that?

Setting his eyes on Chifuyu’s bowl, he waits with some tension in his bones, hands still clenched around his mug as if it’s an anchor.

“Okay, that’s it.”

Surprised, Kazutora lifts his head only to meet the half-amused expression of Chifuyu. The laptop that is tucked under his right arm gently finds its place at the kitchen table and he heads for his cabinet with strange determination. 

“You’re staring at my breakfast as if it’s the eighth world wonder or something.” Chifuyu explains, reaching for a small bowl. “I’ll give you a taste now.” 

The smile he throws Kazutora over his shoulder is bright and daring and there’s practically no room for any discussion, so he just watches Chifuyu in mild astonishment. 

He never really cared for breakfast, to be honest, rather taking what he was offered. 

His mother never bothered to prepare something in the morning and with Shuji it was always black coffee and cigarettes. Nothing more. Nothing less. And Kei, well, he just stuffed himself with whatever he could get his hands on, which led to a rather chaotic breakfast routine. 

Kazutora isn’t even particularly hungry, stomach full with anxiety and his general nervousness due to this stupid casting later, but it does look good and there’s something calming about watching Chifuyu doing these mundane things with so much enthusiasm. 

“There you go!” Chifuyu slumps back into his chair, gaze set expectantly on him.  

The sudden attention doesn’t sit well with him, but Chifuyu’s eyes aren’t made to dig out vulnerabilities. Shuji, on the other hand, would have found them even in the way he dips his spoon into the brownish milk. 

Shoving these thoughts aside like an annoying fly, he gets a first bite and is surprised by the sudden sweetness in his mouth. It tastes like something his younger self would have fancied, but his current self can see the appeal in it too. 

“It’s good,” Kazutora admits and gets another spoon full, careful to get some of the dried strawberry this time.

“I know. It’s kind of expensive and sometimes hard to get your hands on hazelnut milk, but it’s a luxury I decided to treat myself with,” chatters Chifuyu easily while he grabs his laptop and does some quick clicks with the mouse.

“Okay…,” he mutters to himself, absently biting his lower lip. “Here we go.” 

The screen is being turned, revealing two different versions of a comp card, one with a half body portrait, the other one showing him on full display in a vintage style room. Both look classy, with black and gold as the overall color theme, matching his hair and eyes, but the tight knot in his stomach makes it hard to breathe.  

Milk dribbles down Kazutora’s chin when he stops in his movement, with the spoon only an inch apart from his lips. 

Hastily, he rubs it away with his sleeve, avoiding looking at the screen a second time.

“It looks amazing,” he presses out quietly, trying to hold in his breakfast as a nasty memory crashes into his mind like a meteor. Suddenly, there’s the smell of old dust mixing with the musky odor of an expensive perfume in his nose. Kazutora digs the nails of his left hand harshly into his thigh until the tension slowly decreases. 

Willing his slightly shaking fore finger into stillness, he points at the half body portrait where he leans with his back against a ladder. “This one. I chose this one.”

He forces himself to meet Chifuyu’s eyes, lips drawn into a painfully wide smile.

“Thanks a lot, Chifuyu.”

“You sure you like it?” Chifuyu asks, with obvious doubt written all over his face.

“Yes. Just – don’t use the second one, okay? Delete it or whatever. I hate this pic.”

“Oh.” He furrows his brows in dissatisfaction. “I didn’t know. You didn’t tell me that there are pics I shouldn’t use.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not that important anyway. I forgot about it, sorry. Thanks for your hard work, really. I owe you.” Kazutora rattles down word for word, trying to drown out the burning shame that sets in his guts.

It’s fueled by Chifuyu, he realizes. The mere notion that he spent a good amount of time staring at this picture last night feels like being stripped naked without a single thread to hide behind, with all of his ugly truths written in scarlet ink all over his pale skin for Chifuyu to see. As if a single look is enough to tell him everything. 

This is so fucking stupid. It’s just a goddamn picture, but the memories it harbors are a cruel reminder that he can’t erase the past. 

Chifuyu’s soft sigh rips him out of it. “Okay. It’s gone. Never happened,” he says, accompanied by the clicking of his mouse. When he turns the laptop again, it’s gone without a trace. 

“You worked hard on it,” Kazutora points out, the sick feeling in his stomach being replaced by a prick of guilt. 

Chifuyu just shrugs it off. “It was good practice and I knew that you’d only need one. So no worries. I’m just glad that you like one of them.” True to his words, he gives him an easy smile and doesn’t seem to be mad at all. “But next time, just tell me if there’s something I shouldn’t use, okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”  

Kazutora keeps his head low, hands clenched around his coffee mug as he waits for some kind of aftermath which never comes. Instead, Chifuyu just waves it off and stuffs his mouth with the rest of his granola until his cheeks are full like a hamster’s. After gulping it down with coffee, he snaps his laptop shut and moves the dirty dishes to the sink. Casually, he reminds Kazutora to take his time and meet him later at the coffee shop to get his printed comp cards and that’s it.

Pretty underwhelming and odd for someone who’s always prepared for the worst – but Kazutora is far from complaining.

In the next hours, he does exactly as told and takes his sweet time to bring himself into a presentable shape. With the dark circles under his eyes covered, a natural toned makeup on his skin and his brows and nails trimmed, he looks somewhat okayish, Kazutora thinks. To finish the look, he dabs a hint of a wine colored lipstick onto his lips and pulls his hair into a tight ponytail. 

When he arrives at the fancy coffee shop that helps Chifuyu earn enough money for his tiny apartment, the man in question already awaits him, dressed in an apron that can only be labeled as latte macchiato colored. His smile is warm like the promised coffee he shoves into his hand, followed by an unremarkable box that probably contains the printed cards. 

“I don’t have much time for a chat, it’s coffee rush hour right now, but good luck with your model stuff! I know you’ll kick ass! And I wanna know about all the details later, okay?” 

Chifuyu gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his smile all teeth and bright and all Kazutora can muster is a mumbled, “Thanks,” before he rushes back to work.

Stunned, he just stands there for a few seconds, staring at the door that swings back and forth. When his eyes drop to the coffee and box in his hands, a small smile plays around his lips. 

Carefully, he opens the latter and this time, admires the work Chifuyu put into this without shying away. For the nth time Kazutora makes a mental note that he really needs to pay him back… but this is a matter for future Kazutora. First, he has to survive that job casting. 

However, holding his own comp card in his hands, printed on matte paper which gives it a noble touch, Kazutora can believe for the first time that maybe he really has a chance in making it. 

Chapter Text

He is fucked, Chifuyu thinks. One hundred percent fucked. 

Cheeks flushed and heart racing a thousand miles per minute, he tries to get it out of his head. Kazutora and his… gorgeous face. He can’t find another word to describe it, really.

Whatever he did to it in preparation for his model job interview, it looks stunning. Head-turning stunning. Like, literally. People probably stop and stare without Kazutora noticing any of it. Not due to arrogance, like Chifuyu misjudged at first – he’s just totally oblivious of it. Or he’d rather see it as a sign for others’ bad intentions, considering his, well, he does have some trust issues – or issues with people being nice to him in general, as it seems. 

An empathetic smile sneaks onto Chifuyu‘s lips. He won’t be nosy and let Kazutora decide what he wants to tell him, but the latent urge to pry some more information out of Baji is hard to deny. Well, if it weren’t for the fact that he kind of avoids talking to Baji about Kazutora.

It’s not that he wants to hide anything from Baji, but… just imagining his knowing glances and raised eyebrows is enough for now. Chifuyu knows perfectly well that his tiny crush on Kazutora is stupid and even though he really just wants to help him out as an act of friendship, he doesn’t need to shove into Baji’s face that he’s giving Kazutora a temporary shelter.

With a soft sigh, he tries to wipe these thoughts aside, but the image of Kazutora always manages to sneak back into his mind like a shiny fen fire in a night forest, drawing him closer and closer. 

So yeah – he is fucked.


Later, when Chifuyu arrives home after a tiring shift and some overtime, things don't necessarily get better for him. Spotting Kazutora on the floor in a half seated, half lying position, one arm hidden underneath the shoe shelf in search of Peke J’s lost cat toy, does, well, something to him. It looks thoroughly cute, with Peke J circling the spot meowing softly as if to cheer Kazutora on or tell him to be faster, depending how you look at it. 

“Well, that’s what I call an unusual sight to come home to,” Chifuyu greets him with a laugh, slipping out of his sneakers at the sill. “You okay there?”

“Your cat wanted to play but kicked it right underneath this stupid shelf,” Kazutora explains with a deep frown, cheek still pressed against the floor while he tries to get a hold of the toy. There’s probably more dust underneath his fingers than anything else, but he looks pretty determined. 

“Yeah, sounds like him,” Chifuyu grants, still an amused grin on his face as he hangs up his jacket. “My furniture is probably standing on tons of lost cat toys. Sometimes, one of them randomly shows up again, but most are lost forever. It’s fine though,” he assures and gets down to their level to give Peke J a scratch behind the ears. “He’ll just get another one. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Kazutora throws him a short side-glance, one of the calculating sort as if to look for the truth in his words, before he gives up. 

“Fine.” Sighing, he withdraws his arm and drags some dust bunnies across the floor which seem to trigger Peke J’s hunting instincts. Kazutora has barely a second to dodge before his cat attacks the dust flake with sharp claws and slithers through the small corridor with lightning speed.  

A genuine laughter falls from Chifuyu’s lips. “See? He prefers this over the stuff I buy for him anyway,” he complains playfully and reaches out his hand to help Kazutora get back to his feet.  

“Yeah…,” mumbles Kazutora, eyebrows still raised doubtfully as he watches Peke J having fun with his new ‘toy’. 

Chifuyu just gives his shoulder a light pat and says, “Okay, I’ll need to take a shower now, but then I want to know everything about your model stuff!”

Kazutora doesn’t return his smile and, as expected, shrugs it off as nothing special, but he doesn’t object either. Chifuyu counts it as a small victory. 

"So. How did it go?" Chifuyu enters the kitchen with a casual smile, hair still damp from the shower. He slipped into a dark pair of sweatpants and a plain gray hoodie, comfortable, but not too lazy.

Kazutora, who leans against the wall with his arms crossed, gives him an indifferent expression. A hint of cold smoke surrounds him, subtle like a fleeting thought.

"Okay, I guess," he wards it off as expected, but Chifuyu isn’t bothered by it. 

"Cool! So, what happens next? Like, do you have the job?" he asks cheerfully and makes his way to the sink, only to find that the dishes from breakfast are already done.

"Don't know. Guess they'll call or something."

“What kind of job was it again?”

“A small campaign for a perfume.” 

With a soft sigh, Chifuyu turns his head to Kazutora. "Come on, don't let me worm everything out of you. You make me feel like my mom asking me about school stuff back in my teens." He grimaces through his smile, but Kazutora doesn’t return it, face a blank and distant mask. Something in the mood shifted, however, Chifuyu can’t grasp it. It slips through his fingers like smoke and only an instant later, it’s gone without a trace.

“Aww, so you’re a little mama’s boy?” Kazutora’s expression changes to a mocking grin, to which Chifuyu only rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he shoots back without any heat, voice and features softening as he adds, “I only have my mom, you know. So yeah. Guess I am a mama’s boy.” He shrugs with a casual smile on his lips and walks over to the fridge to grab some stuff for a quick meal.

There’s a short, meaningful pause before Kazutora answers, “Well, mine never gave a fuck. So that’s a win for me.”

He has this way of dropping stuff like that in a way that makes Chifuyu question if he’s joking or not. Kazutora’s smile is wry and unbothered, but there’s a sharpness to his words that cuts souldeep. 

Taken aback, Chifuyu blinks at him in surprise, trying to come up with an appropriate response, but Kazutora is quick to change the topic.

“But before your curiosity gives you a heart attack, let me give you some more background information about the very boring procedure of a model casting.” Ceremonially, he opens his arms and Chifuyu decides to let it rest for now in favor of allowing Kazutora to ease more into the conversation. 

He listens with genuine interest to Kazutora’s explanations about the three-man crew that made him walk and pose for the total of forty five minutes while he cuts spring onions as a topping for the yakisoba he decided to go for.

Feeling Kazutora’s intense gaze on his back the whole time keeps Chifuyu slightly on edge though. It’s not uncomfortable, just a tickle of crush-induced-nervousness that he can’t shake off. Seems to be something he has to get used to, huh…?

The conversation shifts to Chifuyu’s day and the noisy customers he had to deal with. He wouldn’t deem himself a complainer, but it’s nice to let off some steam and get more than a meow in response – until something throws him completely off track.

It happens while he stands at the sink to wash the scent of onions off his hands and finishes with his rambling. 

“He even wanted to talk to my boss. Like, can you believe it? Over a small stain of coffee? Some people really have too much time to spare.” Chifuyu says and shakes his hands to get the water off, when suddenly, he can feel Kazutora’s presence very close behind him.

“Sounds like you had a pretty exhausting day…”

His voice is a low mumble and Chifuyu could swear that he felt a hint of Kazutora’s breath on his neck just now. It’s so unexpected that he freezes, eyes widening with surprise, mouth dropping open to form a small o-shape, but no sound escapes his lips.

Suddenly, there are hands on his shoulders, warm and gentle, but firm enough to bring some relief to his tensed muscles when they start to knead them with practiced movements. 

“I could help you relax a bit, you know,” Kazutora breathes, words laced with something alluring, something openly seductive and Chifuyu’s brain kind of short-circuits. 

His mouth goes dry. The heart in his chest falls into a race as if his life depends on it, pumping liquid fire through his veins and the heat is intense, makes his head spin, his cheeks burn and Chifuyu can do nothing but blink and stare, with eyes big as moons and wonder what the hell is going on right now. 

Like, what did he miss? How did a casual conversation about his day at work turn into – whatever this is supposed to be. 

“You could let off some steam…” 

Kazutora’s voice that coos more words of sin into his ear does nothing to help his situation or answer any of his questions, really, but somehow, Chifuyu manages to press out a very startled response. 

“Uhm.” He swallows around the invisible lump in his throat. “What…?”

“You really helped me out,” Kazutora explains, hands drawing a very slow and distracting path down Chifuyu’s back, until the sensation is superseded by the even more distracting feeling of soft lips on his neck, sending a flash of goosebumps across his skin. “So let me return the favor…” 

The hands on his back move forward, slowly map out his hips and wander further to the middle of his belly. Soft fingertips sneak underneath his hoodie, brush over his bare skin and suddenly, Chifuyu realizes where this is going and his brain, fucking finally, tunes in again. 

“But – ,” he utters stupidly, before getting a grip on himself. “Okay, no, wait, wait, wait, you can’t be serious now.”

Firmly, he wraps his fingers around Kazutora’s wrists to stop him from going any further. The pinched smile Chifuyu throws him over his shoulder is a helpless attempt to fight against the growing nausea in his stomach. Taking a closer look, all of this is so fucking wrong, no matter how much his body may be appealed by the notion of this offer.

“Huh?” Kazutora meets him with genuine confusion. He tries to continue his distracting path with his hands, fingers aiming playfully for his waistband now and this is as far as he allows this to go. 

“Kazutora – stop… this is ridiculous.” Chifuyu uses some actual force now to keep Kazutora’s hands in place and suddenly, the warmth at his back vanishes with lightning speed.

Kazutora retreats like a child who burned its palms on a hot stove, confusion written all over his face as he crosses his arms in defense. “Why? I just want to pay you back.”

His expression reveals no signs of flirty smugness or playfulness, implying that he is dead serious about this. 

Chifuyu, on the other hand, doesn’t even try to hide his bewilderment.

“Pay me – ” He gestures vaguely as he turns to Kazutora, feeling the kitchen counter instead of a warm body at his back now. “Come on, you can’t be for real!” 

This has to be a sick joke. Kazutora is fucking with him in the dirtiest way and the notion shots a wave of burning anger into Chifuyu’s clenched fists, but unfortunately, the culprit doesn’t play along.

“I can’t give you any money, so that’s all I can offer you, okay?” There’s not even an ounce of falsity in this statement, just Kazutora’s growing restlessness that fills the air like leaking gas.

Chifuyu just stares at him as if hit by a bolt of lightning. In the blink of an eye, his upcoming anger changes into utter disbelief as Kazutora’s words echo hollowly through his mind.

Okay?

No. It’s not okay, nothing about this is, and Chifuyu really wishes that it was just a fucking joke, cause anger would be so much easier to handle than the rising turmoil in his guts.

“What the fuck? I told you it’s fine! I don’t need anything from you!“ Chifuyu blurts out, desperation and helplessness making his tongue sharper than intended. “Like seriously, you can’t be really thinking that I’d want you to – “

“You know what? Just forget about it,“ Kazutora interrupts, jaw clenched as if he tries to crush stones between his teeth. “It’s my mistake. I shouldn't have come here. Just – forget it.“

Chifuyu flinches as if being hit. It’s due to the winter cold bitterness of Kazutora’s words and he can do nothing but stare as the thin silhouette of his guest rushes out of the room like a blizzard.

“Kazutora! Wait!“ he yells after him, arm reaching out uselessly in an attempt to grab a piece of fabric that’s long gone while he still tries to comprehend what just happened.

Hot water sizzles in the background, reminding him of the pot that he neglected on the stove. Cursing, Chifuyu turns down the heat and drags the pot to a cold spot, because this isn’t one of his romantic movies where he can run dramatically after his crush without caring about anything else in the world and he really doesn’t want his apartment to burn down, thank you very much.
Besides, Peke J is just as cute as he is chaotically nosy and an unguarded pot with boiling water seems to be predestined for mischief. 

So it’s with some time delay that he starts to run after Kazutora, heart clenching in an iron grip of unease, worry and confusion. 

Taking two steps at a time, he nearly stumbles down the stairs, but doesn’t dare to slow down. Chifuyu didn’t even take the time to slip into a jacket, so the cool air of the early evening has easy access to crawl underneath his hoodie and send an unpleasant shiver through his body, but right now, he couldn’t care less.

His head shots left and right, eyes searching for the familiar tiger print jacket, but it’s rather the sound of a suitcase being dragged over the sidewalk that gets his attention. A wave of relief rushes over him when he spots Kazutora not too far away, distancing himself with fast and firm steps.

Falling into a light jog to catch up to him, Chifuyu briefly wonders if Kazutora ever unpacked his suitcase, but no. He probably didn’t, always prepared to leave, prepared to flee at the first sign of trouble. 

It’s just another concerning detail to rack his brain over, but Chifuyu will deal with this later.

“Kazutora!” he tries to get the man’s attention as soon as he is within earshot, but in return, Kazutora only tightens his grip around the suitcase handle and fastens his pace.  

“Kazutora, please wait!” Gasping, Chifuyu reaches out and manages to get him by the shoulder, which leads to an abrupt halt. 

“What?” Kazutora hisses, the gold in his eyes cold and hard like coins as he shakes him off with a gruff gesture and stares him down. “What do you want from me?”

Nothing, Chifuyu wants to tell him. I just want to help you out…

Instead, he carefully takes a step back, giving Kazutora some space before trying to ease the leaden tension in the air.

“I’m sorry – I really didn’t mean to offend you, okay?”

He is met with silence and the wary glare of a tiger who is prepared to attack, defend himself or flee any second, depending on Chifuyu’s next move. 

“I was just surprised.” Shocked. Overwhelmed. Flustered. There are many words he could add, but Chifuyu decides to keep it as simple and harmless as possible. “You really caught me off guard there.”

Kazutora’s expression remains blank and a single misguided step seems to be enough for the mood to go downwards, but he still listens. Chifuyu counts that as a win, although he feels like walking on eggshells here.

“I mean… why should I want you to pay me with – ” He pauses, struggles with words that taste bitter like bile on the tip of his tongue. “I’d never expect you to – no one should expect you to – ” A deep sigh escapes his lips. “I don't know what kind of guys you used to hang out with, but I can absolutely assure you that you don’t need to pay me with these kinds of favors. Like, ever. Okay?”

The whole situation still feels surreal and fundamentally wrong and Chifuyu needs to make Kazutora understand that he doesn’t owe him anything in the world for some basic human kindness. Especially not a sexual favor.

The mere notion makes him sick, guts twisting with unease when he thinks about the underlying implications. To Kazutora, this seemed perfectly normal, like the logical consequence of it all and it’s the first time that Chifuyu really dreads the answers to some of his countless questions – but it’s not like he's getting any.

Kazutora’s face is still a stony mask, not revealing any of his thoughts. A book with seven seals, trapped behind a wall of iron, hidden on an isle in the middle of nowhere – but he will get there. Hopefully.

While Kazutora’s silence stretches out, Chifuyu’s mind is racing, fueled by the urge to really get his point across and leave no room for any pieces of doubt. Else, he’d probably never blurt out the following words so blatantly, 

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not because I don’t think you’re attractive or something! I mean, we already slept together and it was amazing but – it’s supposed to be a mutual thing, you know? Not as a payment. Just for the sake of… having a good time together.” His voice thins out to a mumble, cheeks flushing with familiar heat. When talking to Kazutora, he feels like an embarrassing teenager way too easily. 

“Wow. You really make me feel like I should apologize for offering you a blow.” Kazutora finally turns a one-sided monologue into an actual conversation, changing his stoic expression into a teasing grin. It’s relieving to get a response from him, a carefree even, but a bitter aftertaste remains.

“It’s no big deal for me.” He plays it down, hands buried casually in his pockets as he shrugs. “But I forgot that you’re… different.” Kazutora’s smile grows wider, but something wistful lingers underneath its mocking gleam.
“Sorry, I don’t speak nice guy. I’m Kei’s fucked up best friend, in case you have forgotten.” The playful tone seems out of place and words of objection form immediately on the tip of Chifuyu’s tongue, but Kazutora doesn’t leave any room for them.

With a more serious face and tone, he explains, “I didn’t mean to startle you, Chifuyu. It’s just that I don’t like open debts – and if I don’t know the price, I rather want to decide on it for myself.” The wry grin reappears on his lips, before he adds, “Besides, I thought you’d appreciate it.” 

“I – ” Flustered, Chifuyu tries to come up with a smart response but Kazutora’s light laughter interrupts him.

“Just messing with you. I already know that you think I’m irresistibly attractive.” His smug grin is a relief to see and looks way better on him than the harsh mask of indifference and defense from before, but something about this doesn’t sit right with Chifuyu. 
Kazutora’s flirty tone gets under his skin way too easily and might work pretty efficiently as a distraction, which is the point here, obviously, but he refuses to let it go just like that. It’s too important to be brushed away with a single teasing comment.

“You deserve better than this, “ Chifuyu insists, eyes adamant with determination. It’s remarkable how, just like that, the mood tilts within a single heartbeat. How smugness is replaced by disdain and a playful tone changes for icy sarcasm.

“Cute. You got that from a wisdom calendar?” 

The warning signs are bright and clear, but Chifuyu doesn’t step away. 

“I mean it. You – ” 

“Stop. Don’t act like you know anything about me.” Kazutora cuts him off with the brutality of a killing blow, eyes cold and distant. It’s not just a wall he brings up, it’s a whole fucking army of walls. “I appreciate your help, but I don’t need your fucking pity.” Proudly, he raises his chin, arms crossed to create even more distance. 

Confusion strikes Chifuyu and he is quick to assure, “I didn’t mean to pity you,” wondering where this assumption comes from. However, he won’t get an answer to that right now, that much is obvious.

Biting back his pressing urge to get his point across and dig deeper into this, Chifuyu decides to take a turn before chasing Kazutora away for good. It’s worth a lot that he didn’t just flee immediately and faced this conversation up till now, he thinks. 

Still, a bitter aftertaste remains in his mouth and Chifuyu can’t help but wonder for the nth time what Kazutora went through in the past.

With a deep sigh, he shoves all of it into a hidden corner of his mind and tries to pick up a thread from before to hopefully ease the mood. “You know what’s actually irresistibly attractive to me right now?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Kazutora remains wary, forehead frowning slightly. Of course. 

“The warmth of my apartment,” Chifuyu gives the solution, offering an easy way out. “Let’s go back inside, shall we?” 

“You – want me to stay?” Kazutora is genuinely surprised, giving up his tough act in favor of blatant bewilderment. 

It stings a little, though it doesn’t come as something unexpected. 

“Of course,” he begins to explain matter-of-factly, suppressing the compassionate smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I still could use someone to look after Peke J while I’m at work. And you could also do the dishes and stuff, like you did today. Thank you, by the way.” Chifuyu gives him an appreciating nod, before he adds, “I don’t expect you to do it, but if you want a price, that’s my offer.”

He doesn’t like the notion of turning this into something that sounds like a business arrangement, but he gets that it’s easier for Kazutora that way. Some things take time and his trust in other people seems to be shaken to the core. 

“You help me out and I help you out. A fair trade. What do you think?” Chifuyu wraps it up with an inviting smile, but his tension grows with every second passing in silence.

Kazutora’s expression is unreadable, lips forming a thin line as he seems to think this through, but then, they stretch into an easy smile. “You’re weird but cute. That’s what I think.” 

Relief wins over the short rush of embarrassment, but Chifuyu plays along by rolling his eyes dramatically due to the compliment. “You should come up with something new for a change.”

“Oh, but I think you like it.” Kazutora smirks, which looks pretty good on him, but to his surprise, his tone changes to a more serious one soon after.

“But thank you,” he says and avoids looking at Chifuyu, fingers fumbling with the lock of his suitcase. “About the offer.” When he raises his head, the smug grin already betrays that he hides his unease behind another attempt of bad flirting. “I think I’ll take it, pretty cute boy.”

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious now,” Chifuyu complains, but deep down, he is more than glad. This isn’t something Kazutora would do so easily and he deems it as a sign of careful trust.

“What? You wanted something different, and since I’m not allowed to call you pretty boy anymore…” Kazutora sends him an amused side glance as they fall into a relaxed walk back to his apartment. 

“How about you just call me Chifuyu?”

“Too boring.”


They settle in front of the TV with a bag of chips and a pot of steaming green tea. His mom always says that a cup of tea is the best way to soothe a troubled soul and Chifuyu thinks that they both need some time to relax now. Peke J contently occupied the space between them, curled up into a black, purring ball of fluff. 

There’s still something unspoken lingering in the air, fleeting like a drowsy thought, but nothing that pushes or harms or needs immediate attention. 

Besides, the tension finally left Kazutora’s bones. One hand slung around his tea cup, he uses the other one to gently stroke Peke J’s fur, eyes set on the TV. He seems exhausted but calm, not bothered by the situation at all.

Chifuyu, however, can’t stop his brain from disassembling every aspect of the kitchen-incident, like he calls it in his head, up to the conversation that followed. Like a forensic pathologist dissecting a body for signs of a crime, he tries to identify all the pieces he needs to understand Kazutora better; compare them to the ones he already gathered and bring them into a shape that makes sense. 

At one point, while he watches Kazutora from the corner of his eyes, he gets back to their first night together. How Kazutora acted so experienced, so focused on pleasing him, satisfying him – and only him. How he was confused, startled even, when Chifuyu actually made an effort to take care of him as well.

His stomach twists into a tight knot. Words like payback or debt or price buzz through his mind and the implication fills him with dread, with compassion and the urge to wrap his arms around Kazutora and make him understand that he doesn’t need to pay for kindness. That he deserves to be treated well without any conditions and that anyone who tells him differently isn’t worth his time – but the saddest part?

Chifuyu knows that he wouldn’t believe him.

Yet.

Chapter Text

“You’re avoiding me.“

Keisuke slips into the low seat in front of him, shooting him a watchful glare in lieu of a hello.

They chose a ramen restaurant for the weekly meetup Kei still insists on maintaining, cheap enough for a broke college student which makes it cheap enough for Kazutora as well.

It’s just proof of Keisuke being a good friend and Kazutora being the worst all over again, because instead of being thankful about it, Keisuke actually hit the mark.

Kazutora does avoid him. But that’s just his way of trying to be less of a burden and more of a friend, really.

“Well hello, yeah, it’s so good to see you too!“ Kazutora replies unimpressed, lips stretching into a teasing grin. “Got up on the wrong side of the bed?“

 “Shut up. You know I’m right,“ Keisuke grumbles and grabs the menu card to skim through the different noodle soups.

Kazutora rolls his eyes dramatically. Then he leans forward, props up his head on his hands and gives Keisuke his most charming smile. “I’m a busy supermodel, you know. You should feel honored to be here with me.” 

Snorting, Keisuke slides the card over the table towards him. “Honored my ass. Pick something already, idiot. It’s on me.” 

Kazutora’s smile doesn’t waver but there’s a familiar prick of guilt in his chest. Kei is smart enough to doubt that he is getting by just fine, let alone that he has enough money to pay for a living, no matter how much he pretends, but Kazutora won’t take advantage of his kindness anymore. Having him back in his life is more than enough (and more than he deserves). 

“How generous. But it’s my turn today. Unlike other people, I’m not a broke college student.” The words taste stale like a lie alway does, but he still has the money from the latest asshole he drank under the table, so it’s fine. 

Keisuke frowns deeply enough that it looks like it’ll leave permanent marks on his forehead.

“You got a job now?” he asks, skeptically.

“Pretty much.”

Rolling his eyes, he snarls, “Cut the bullshit and tell me already.”

With an exaggerated deep sigh as if it’s something particularly troublesome to ask of him, he begins to tell Keisuke about the job interview and honestly, the proud grin he is rewarded with hits a very vulnerable spot deep inside that draws out a small, genuine smile from him. 

He should have told Keisuke, Kazutora thinks wistfully, his guilty consciousness sending a confirmative ache through his chest. Blocking him out isn’t fair… but he really isn’t used to doing the right thing. All he can do is fuck things up and harm and hurt. Ugh. He needs a smoke. 

“Ha! That sounds amazing!” cheers Keisuke in the meantime, flashing him his pointed teeth. “They need to take you or else, I’m gonna punch their stupid faces.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna help at all.” Kazutora points out and despite his gloomy thoughts, the amused laugh falls easily from his lips. It’s contagious, Keisuke’s excitement, and he really doesn’t know how he got by without him for so long.

A waitress appears and takes their order with a shy grin and light blush on her cheeks, but Kazutora is more focused on estimating how much money he’ll need to pay the bill later. 

It’s stupid, considering that Keisuke paid for his stuff more often than he could count, but he never had much own money to begin with, let alone any reserve fund. 

They fall into an easy conversation about Keisuke’s work at the pet shop and honestly, Kazutora doesn’t get why he still bothers with college when his eyes brighten so much while talking about cleaning the whole store after an excited puppy rushed through the aisles with its muddy paws. 

Doesn’t sound like much fun to Kazutora, but Kei seems to be all fire. A teasing remark is just about to slip his lips, when the sudden vibration of his phone grabs his attention. 

Surprised, he takes a look at the display and doesn’t recognize the number at all. Kazutora’s heart skips a beat when he realizes that this is probably his new model agency.

With more confidence than he actually feels, he puts a self-assured grin on his lips and brags, “Guess I’m just about to get my first model job here.” Deep inside, he is nervous to the core. 

The grin still on his face like a shield, he presses the phone against his ear and takes the call. 

“Hello?” Kazutora says simply, trying to avoid his own last name at all costs. He detests everything related to his parents. 

While waiting for an answer, he can feel the echo of his rapidly pounding heart in his entire body.

“Hello, tiger,” he is greeted with a silky-smooth menace. “It’s so good to hear your voice.” 

Kazutora freezes, eyes growing wide with shock, with panic, with dread. 

No. This can’t – 

“So. How you’re doing? Having some fun without me?” Despite Kazutora’s silence, Shuji whispers his disgustingly sweet words into his ear, the amused grin audible in every syllable. It’s as if he senses his horror, savoring every bit of the power he holds.

Kazutora wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but can’t. Not with Keisuke in the picture – and certainly not with that sickening feeling in his guts that makes bitter bile crawl up his throat. 

He tries to counter it with anger, focuses on the burning rage inside, but his fingers tremble slightly when he hangs up and taps his thumb furiously at the display. But he mustn’t let it get to him. Keep a blank facade. Pretend everything’s alright. 

“Someone dialed the wrong number. That fucker got my hopes all high for nothing,” Kazutora comes up with a made up explanation, jaw clenched in annoyance that he doesn’t need to fake.

Keisuke just lifts his left eyebrow to that. “Someone dialed the wrong number,” he repeats flatly. “You serious now?” Narrowing his eyes he adds, “Try harder if you want to bullshit me. Who was it?”

Kazutora opens his lips, another excuse on the tip of his tongue, but Keisuke doesn’t let him get a word. “No, wait. It was him, wasn’t it?” 

His eyes widen in bewilderment and he hates how Keisuke hits the mark right away. Hates, how he knows him better than anyone else. Hates, how he doesn’t leave him a chance to escape.

“You always tense when he calls you,” Keisuke backs up his conclusion and shoots him a watchful glance. He doesn’t even need to drop Shuji’s name, case already closed.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

Denying isn’t an option and Kazutora knows. He’s been caught in the act, so damage control is the new goal. 

“Woha, calm down now, Sherlock,” he tries to wave it off with a playful smile, but Kei doesn’t buy it for a single second. 

“What does this piece of shit want from you? Is he bothering you?” His tone grows angrier with every word spoken, the muscles on his forearm tensing visibly when he clenches his fist on the table.

“Nah. He’s just having a hard time accepting that it’s over. That’s all.” Kazutora plays it down and then comes up with a smug smirk. “It’s pretty hard to get over someone like me, you know.”

A few seconds pass with Keisuke just boring holes into him with his narrowed eyes until a dissatisfied growl leaves his lips. “You’re still trying to avoid the topic, I get it, but don’t lie to my fucking face, Tora,” he presses out under gritted teeth, tone dangerously low. “You looked like someone’s holding a gun to your head, so what’s the deal?”

The smile on Kazutora’s lips dies with an exaggerated and clearly annoyed sigh, but deep down Keisuke’s words are like rocks in his stomach. 

“It’s nothing, as I already said.”

“Bullshit!”

“Can we, like, not talk about this now?” Kazutora returns Keisuke’s glare with equal defiance and crosses his arms resolutely, but he can feel the mood tensing like the air before a storm. They’re on the brick of an argument, but Kazutora won’t back down. Discussing this topic is off-limits, especially with Keisuke. Now even more than before. 

“When do you want to talk about it then, huh?” Keisuke growls, refusing to give up either. Of course. He never does

“Wait, let me check my calendar.” Kazutora throws his phone at the table, pretending to skim through his not-existent appointments, before he shoves it aside rather aggressively. “Ah. It says ‘never’.”

Keisuke rolls his eyes to that, letting out a frustrated huff. “Yeah. Very funny,” he growls, his tensed, whitening knuckles indicating how much he needs to keep his temper in check, but his expression is just as serious as his tone.

“You can’t expect me to ignore this forever, Kazutora.” Oh, great. They’re on firstname-level now. “I know  how shitty he treated you and yet, you never fucking left before. So what happened?”

“Nothing I can’t take care of myself,” Kazutora snaps back cooly and crosses his arms in front of his chest again as a natural barrier.

“Yeah, sure. Since you’ve always been so great at taking care of yourself.” Keisuke’s voice is dripping with sharp sarcasm.

“Fuck off.”

Gnashing his teeth, Keisuke throws him his darkest glare. “Right back at you. And now tell me what the fuck is up with you and how often I need to break that fucker’s face!” To back up his words, Keisuke throws his fist on the table, emitting his anger like lava from a raging volcano. 

What would scare most people away softens something inside Kazutora. He can read it between the lines so clearly, Kei’s frustration, his despair, even helplessness and that he gets so angry on his behalf makes Kazutora feel small and ungrateful all of a sudden. What comes so naturally for Keisuke is something no one else has ever done for him and something warm and sad washes over him. A whiff of genuine fondness, intertwined with the deep melancholia of the knowledge that he can never be a person good enough to deserve a friend like him. 

“You’d get into prison for that,” Kazutora says with a pinched smile, but he knows that it’s a lame attempt to soothe the mood, so he averts his gaze to the wooden table before trying better.

“Okay, listen. I know that it’s confusing and stuff, but I can’t tell you now. I just need to sort some things out for myself first and get some distance. But I’ll tell you one day.” Lifting his head, he tries for a wry smile. “The whole ugly story, best friend edition.”

There’s a short pause. A moment where words are weighted and options pondered, but that’s as far as Kazutora can go – and to his great relief, Kei decided to join him. 

With one of the deepest exhales he has ever witnessed, Keisuke leans back with crossed arms and grumbles, “Kay. Fine. But tell me if you need something. I can’t stand the thought that you’ve been relying on that bastard for so long instead of me.”

“Aww, you jealous now?” Kazutora can’t help but to mock, but regrets it immediately when he sees Keisuke’s expression darken with the anger he tries to suppress for his sake. It’s a sensitive topic for both of them and nothing he can brush aside with an inappropriate joke. 

Instead, he chooses what makes him most vulnerable: honesty.

“Thank you, Kei.” Kazutora locks eyes with him, face all soft and a sheepish smile on his lips that he wouldn’t show anyone else. “I mean it. I know that I can count on you and – it means a lot.”

Whatever Keisuke was about to throw at him seems to die on the spot. His narrowed eyes grow wide as anger is replaced by surprise, followed by a raspy, “Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy now,” but his grin is fond and the hand that reaches out to ruffle Kazutora’s hair warm and gentle. 

“Hey, stop!” Kazutora complains, but it’s a blatant lie. He doesn't want Keisuke to stop doing this ever and suddenly, his chest feels free enough for an honest laugh.


They fall back into a lighter conversation with ease and with each word spoken, the tension in his bones melts away, until Shuji's voice is nothing but a puny whisper in the back of his mind again.  

It’s only when he asks about Kei’s plans for the rest of the day that Kazutora’s stomach knots slightly upon hearing a certain name that makes him try to appear as unaffected as possible as he silences his growing guilty consciousness. 

“I wanted to stop by Chifuyu's place. We got some new tester packs of cat treats and I need Peke J to try them.” After a second, Keisuke adds, “His cat,” as if Kazutora doesn’t already know the name of the cat he has to share his sleeping place with as soon as Chifuyu leaves the house.

He should probably tell him. Throw the cards at the table, get a glare and a scolding for not asking him for help and be done with it. It seems like the right thing to do, but on the other hand… 

With a glance at Keisuke’s wide grin he always shows when an animal is involved, he decides against it for now. For peace‘ sake. 

Besides, there will surely come a better opportunity to tell him…

“Well, good luck, but the guy is working till midnight probably,” Kazutora drops casually and makes a mental note to never open the door when he is alone at Chifuyu’s place. “It’s impossible to get a hold of him, I couldn’t even thank him properly for the comp card he made for me yet.”

The best lies are the ones peppered with truths, he thinks as he tries to get the idea of paying Chifuyu a visit out of Keisuke’s head. 

The man in question slightly raises his eyebrows. “So you actually accepted help from someone? I’m impressed. Or should I be concerned?”

“Fuck off,” laughs Kazutora and presents him his middle finger. “He was pretty persistent, okay? And I like the result.” He shrugs it off, trying to appear all cool and unaffected when really he just wants to change the topic.

“Anyway, I’m going to meet him tomorrow,” Kazutora spins another half-lie before they dig deeper into this. “So you can gimme the treats for his cat and I’ll deliver them for you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Gonna see him at the cafeteria tomorrow or so. I just wanted an excuse to visit Peke J.” Keisuke waves it off with a grin. “But you’re right, he really makes himself scarce lately.”

“Must be my terrible influence on a decent person,” Kazutora jokes boldly with a wry grin on his face, which earns him a very watchful glare, but silences Keisuke.
There’s probably even some truth in it and he isn’t particularly proud about the low blow, but sometimes he just can’t help but to play with fire. Pour oil into the flames until they lick at his skin and burn enough to make him feel something real. 

Keisuke, however, would never set him on fire.


When they part, Kazutora feels lighter than before despite all their rough edges and possibilities of getting into a fight. Neither of them wants to, but they’re still walking on eggshells when facing each other. Or maybe it’s just him. Keeping his secrets carefully hidden behind his back keeps him on edge and their weight is always somewhere in a far corner of his mind. 

But they got this. It just takes some time and he knows that Kei will grant it to him. That’s just the kind of person he is. Loyal to a fault underneath his loud and fierce nature. 

Kazutora watches his silhouette grow smaller in the distance with a wistful smile, making another silent promise to do better for him. Then, he slowly walks back to Chifuyu’s apartment. 

It still feels weird to have a place like this to come home to. Somewhere warm and peaceful where he can just… be. 

It’s only temporary, of course, and he won’t take advantage of this longer than necessary, but it’s still a welcome respite. And it’s nice to be in a position where coming back is always something to look forward to.

When he pushes the key into the lock he can already hear the loud meowing of a cat that is about to starve to death. Peke J really can turn this into a show, pretending he didn’t get a bite for weeks whenever someone opens the front door.

At first, he thought the cat really was hungry, until that one time when he brought the garbage down to the collection point right after giving Peke J dinner. When he got back inside, tiny paws immediately rushed to the door and that brat of a cat pretended he didn’t get his last snack just some minutes ago. Chifuyu did warn him, but he didn’t expect Peke J to be that much of a drama king. He totally makes up for it with his cuteness though.

“Hey,” Kazutora greets him with a soft smile and gets down to his knees to gently stroke the dark fur. The tiny cat head rubs demandingly against his flat palm while Peke J alternates between meowing and purring. “Did you miss me?” he asks, despite knowing the sobering truth behind this giddy greeting, but he can be delusional enough to hope at least that Chifuyu’s cat does like him enough to be happy about his arrival without getting a treat in return. 

“Sorry, I can’t feed you yet,” Kazutora then explains calmly. “Your owner will notice if you gain too much weight and I don’t wanna get on his bad side.” Kazutora grimaces slightly and scratches the cat behind its ears which seems to soothe it for now. 

After taking some minutes to greet Peke J properly, he slips out of his worn down chucks and takes a walk through the apartment, looking for something to take care of. Keeping everything nice and tidy is the bare minimum of what he can do, but there isn’t much to find anymore. 

Over the course of the last week he already deep cleaned the place, unable to relax until he made a little effort to be of some help leastways. 

Yesterday, he even rearranged the mugs in the kitchen cabinet, sorting them by color and shape. It’s stupid. Laughable even. He neither is a cleaner nor some useless housewife, but he just has to do something in return for being allowed to stay here. Doesn’t matter how often Chifuyu gives him that certain look where he manages to appear grateful and somehow saddened at the same time, with his smile all wistful and his eyes soft enough to resemble something like compassion.

Kazutora shakes this notion off with a sigh and decides to take a quick shower in the cramped bathroom. It’s tricky to find the position for the water tap where the water is neither burning your skin off nor freezes you on the spot and the warm water never lasts longer than five minutes, but by now he got the hang of it.

It’s nothing compared to the places he used to be. Large apartments with every comfort you can imagine but soulless like a blank piece of paper. There’s no question about what he prefers.

When he feels refreshed and clean, there are still about three hours left until Chifuyu will arrive back home. It’s not that Kazutora needs to be around all the time and wait for him, but despite his mixed feelings about the whole situation it’s something to look forward to.

In the meantime, he decides to grab some coffee and settle down with his sketchbook to do some silly scribbling. It became a habit. Something to find comfort in rather than an embarrassing secret to hide at all cost.

He never dared to show any of it when Shuji was around, too scared of the consequences. It’s something too vulnerable. Something that makes him weak. And he could never afford to be weak around Shuji.

Chifuyu, however, stumbled upon it by accident and he didn’t use it against him so far – and probably won’t. So it’s safe to get lost between paper and ink for a while.

With a content feeling in his heart, Kazutora finishes another piece drawn with his soul rather than his head and closes the sketchbook without taking a second glance. He barely ever does, but it’s fine. His art was never something that’s supposed to be shared.  

Stretching his arms, he takes a peek at Peke J who is curled up on the kitchen chair next to him with his eyes closed, but his ears twitch in interest at the slightest sound. With a soft smile, he gives Peke’s head a little pet and then mumbles, “Come on, you’ve waited long enough.”

The cat doesn’t respond to his words but the scratching of the chair on the kitchen floor does the trick. Its head darts up and after a quickened yawn, Peke J jumps down to rush for his food bowl, just in case. Expectantly, yellow eyes look up to him, followed by a soft meow, to which Kazutora answers with quiet laughter. “Give me another minute at least, would you?”

It’s probably weird of him to talk to a cat, but he can’t deny that he does like the company. Maybe he should get himself a cat too, once he brought some order to his life…

Kazutora plays with that notion as he watches Peke J wolf down his food, a soft smile still playing around his lips, but doubts are just a heartbeat away. 

He just can’t imagine himself having his shit together enough to take care of another living being, when getting by on his own is hard enough already. Even having a place to call his own seems so far out of reach that he can only laugh, with disdain, about his own stupid thoughts. But it’s nice to dream anyway.

Kazutora tears his gaze away from Chifuyu’s cat, thinking about what to do until said man arrives at home. There’s the familiar itch in his fingertips to busy himself with something useful and when his eyes graze over the well-used rice cooker in the corner of the sideboard, a fleeting idea forms in his mind.

He has never really dealt with cooking before, but it can’t be that hard, right? And maybe Chifuyu will appreciate it. (He totally would. Kazutora can literally imagine his eyes growing wide in surprise, just before showing that gleam of excitement you can’t help but to like. Ugh. Under different circumstances, he would have had no choice but to hate Chifuyu fiercely for everything that he is.)

Shoving these nasty thoughts aside, he opens the fridge to look for some suitable ingredients to create a somewhat decent meal and gets to work. 

It’s nothing special. Actually, he just tries to imitate what Chifuyu did when he made an effort to cook a meal, which is cutting some vegetables and putting them into a pan while the rice cooker does its magic.

Kazutora, unsure how much is appropriate, adds oil until the bottom of the pan is completely covered and then puts in another scoop for good measure. The soft sizzling sound that fills the room just a seconds later tells him that it should be fine that way.

After stirring the vegetables around with a spatula, he takes a look at his phone to check for the time. This stuff will probably need something like ten or fifteen minutes to be edible, right? So there should be no harm in taking a smoke now.

He gives the food another good stir, sets the temperature to a medium level and heads for the balcony then. 

It’s a nice view. On a warmer day, he could settle here with a cup of coffee in his hands and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, sketching something in his notebook. Or he could have a midnight talk with Chifuyu, one of those where you chatter about the weirdest shit one second and turn to the meaning of life the next, with a few cans of beer and cigs in between, until the sun dawns at the horizon. 

Kazutora grimaces at his own weird thoughts, until something like a pinched smile remains on his lips. 

Maybe things can really change for him…

His little pseudo-melancholic train of thoughts comes to a sudden halt when the nastiest alarm sound he has ever heard breaks the silence like a sledgehammer. It booms in his ears piercingly enough that Kazutora can feel the vibrations running through his entire body as he rushes back into the apartment, trying to find the origin of that noise straight from hell. 

It’s not hard at all. The faint smell of something burned leads him to the kitchen immediately. The sizzling of the pan is sharp like an accusation. A faint but steady trail of smoke rises to the ceiling, forming a path that leads straight to the livingroom – and the harshly blinking fire alarm.

Cursing under his breath, Kazutora dashes to the scene, palms pressed flatly against his ears to block out the unbearable noise. It’s about as effective as a single drop of rain against a forest fire.

His hesitation only lasts for about a second before he jumps onto the couch, trying to reach the enraged device. Even on wobbly tiptoes he fails by about five inches. 

Shit. Who even came up with the idea to attach this thing in the middle of the room?

To worsen things, the faint sound of a door being fiercely pushed open mixes into the noise, followed by the alarmed shouting of his own name. 

“Kazutora!?”

Chifuyu suddenly appears in the doorframe, eyes wide with shock as they dart through the room, trying to understand what’s happening. 

Yeah. Of fucking course he comes home earlier today. 

Biting his lips in mild frustration, he watches how Chifuyu takes care of the situation with ease – or rather with a broomstick he uses to poke the alarm into silence. 

Sighing softly, he runs his fingers through his messy hair and then offers Kazutora a hand to help him get down from the couch.

“You alright?” he asks, brows furrowed in mild concern as he gives Kazutora a glance over.

To keep at least a crumb of his meek pride, he avoids the offered hand when he gets down and mumbles, “Yeah. I’m – ” The rest gets stuck in his throat when an angry sizzling noise and the scent of badly burned food reach him, reminding him of another something that needs to be taken care of.

Fuck. He totally forgot to turn off the stove…

Again, Chifuyu is quicker to react, but Kazutora follows close behind, unease growing with every step he takes. 

The kitchen is foggy with steam and Chifuyu tries to wave it away with one hand, using the other to gesture towards the door.

“Close it!” he urges and Kazutora is quick to comply. Yeah. He doesn’t want the alarm to set off a second time either. 

The rest is done in a few easy steps: getting the pan away from the stove, turning off the heat, opening the small window – Chifuyu sweeps through the kitchen as if he has done this a thousand times while Kazutora just stands there and watches uselessly how he takes care of his mess.

“Not quite the gifted chef, are you?” Chifuyu jokes with a wry grin after most of the smoke is gone and just the intrusive smell of burned vegetables remains in the air. 

Kazutora swallows the sharp fuck off resting on the tip of his tongue in favor of a testy, “I’ve never done this shit before.” 

Which is true. Putting frozen stuff in a microwave or oven is the closest he has ever done to cooking. No one ever cared to show him how it’s done nor was it necessary.

“What, cooking? How did you survive up till now?” Chifuyu throws him a questioning glance over his shoulder, but Kazutora avoids his gaze.

Arms crossed, he leans his back against the wall that’s as far away as possible from Chifuyu and tries his best to keep his head low and hide his face. Frustration and shame leave him tensed and vulnerable, but he doesn’t want to let it show. 

“Never needed it,” he dodges truthfully.

There’s a pause and Kazutora starts to count the passing seconds, fists clenched in anticipation for some kind of backlash; a heated yell, a hit with a fist, a humiliating comment – things that belong to his past, but the moment passes and Chifuyu seems unbothered when he comes up with an answer.

“Well, I could show you some basics if you want,” he offers as if it’s no big deal at all and takes a peek into the rice cooker. “But maybe not today.” Chifuyu grimaces slightly. “I vote for ordering dinner. What about you?”

“I already had lunch with Kei. I don’t need anything.” His response happens quickly, without giving it a second thought, knowing that he must keep his money together. It’s only when Chifuyu raises an eyebrow that he notices his mistake. He probably guessed already that Kazutora didn’t try to cook for himself alone, but now his intentions are more than obvious. 

Heat creeps into his cheeks but to his great surprise, Chifuyu lets it pass without further digging into it. “I’d feel bad if I was the only one eating, so let’s just share,” he suggests instead and turns to the sink, trying to scrub the cooled down pan clean.

There are still no signs of anger or reproach, but Kazutora is immediately on edge when he hears the following words, “And Kazutora...” 

Here it comes. 

“I really appreciate the gesture. But you’re really doing more than enough already. It’s fine, okay?” Chifuyu just gives him a quick glance over his shoulder to which Kazutora replies with a curt nod. 

He’s frozen in place, part of him still waiting for a scolding that never comes. Not from Chifuyu. And he knows. Deep down he really does. But a tiger can’t change its stripes.

Before things get even more awkward, Kazutora gets a fucking grip on himself and mumbles quietly, “‘m looking for Peke J,” swallowing the I in his dry throat. It’s something useful he can do and he does feel sorry for scaring the cat that way.

Peke J, however, seems to harbor no hard feelings at all. As soon as he enters the living room the cat rushes on silent paws towards him just to pass him by with an excited meow as soon as he spots Chifuyu in the kitchen. 

Kazutora can’t really blame him.


With a sigh he settles on the couch and waits for his racing heartbeat and mind to calm down. This was the epitome of stupid, really. He should think before he pulls shit like that – or not even try in the first place. 

Better stick to the things you're good at tiger, huh?

Shuji appears in front of his inner eye, smiling his sly smile as he taps his lap invitingly. 

Biting his lips hard enough to taste a hint of metal, Kazutora shoves this picture forcefully aside. Anger boils up in his stomach, tries to overshadow the bone deep shame crawling up his spine and he jumps to his feet, urging for a breath of fresh air and a fucking cigarette.

“Aren’t you cold?” Chifuyu appears at the balcony door after some time, a slight frown on his face and two steaming cups of tea in his hands. 

Maybe Kazutora lost track of time. It's his third or fourth cigarette. He didn’t count – or do much except for smoking, staring into the distance and feeling the freezing cold on his skin. Oh. And cursing his damn existence. Once again. 

“Aren’t you mad?” he dodges with a counter question, gaze lazily following the trail of smoke his cigarette draws into the air. 

Chifuyu seems genuinely surprised. “Huh? Why should I be mad?”

“I nearly burned down your kitchen.”

Hearty laughter is the last that Kazutora expected, but Chifuyu is always good for a surprise. “You should’ve seen Baji trying to make some flambeéd bananas. He was nearly burning down my kitchen that time,” Chifuyu explains with a smile full of nothing but fondness for Keisuke and his reckless actions. It sounds so much like Kei that the mere thought manages to tug at the corners of his mouth. 

“Don’t worry about it and just close the door next time. The fire alarm is kinda sensitive.” Chifuyu finishes casually, tone soft and reassuring under the surface.

Kazutora, unsure how to deal with this, just gives it a quick nod. “Okay.”

“And now I’m going to get you a damn jacket. Just looking at you makes me freeze!” 

Chifuyu throws him a playful smile that somehow eases the tension in his shoulders and lets him answer with an amused snort. “Okay.” He pauses before quietly adding with a smirk, “Mom.”

“Oh my god. I just pretend that I never heard that. Call me anything but that, please.”

Kazutora smugly raises his eyebrows. “Oh? So I’m allowed to call you pretty boy again?”

“Shut up and drink your tea!” Chifuyu gives his shoulder a quick shove, but his bright laughter takes the edge off it.

It’s so easy with Chifuyu, really. Even for someone like him it seems to be hard to fuck this up. Which is comforting and unsettling at the same time.


“Here!” Chifuyu throws a navy blue zip-up hoodie over to him. “I refuse to touch that tigerprint disaster of a jacket you wear. Seriously. It’s against natural law that this looks actually good on you.” 

Kazutora raises his eyebrows without being really offended. “You’re insulting a designer piece, you know? Some would give their left arm for that jacket.” He only got it thanks to Shuji as a present and still remembers the moment crystal clear. The neat box, decorated with a ribbon made of silk. The way his eyes widened when he realized what’s inside. Shuji’s praising words, sweet like honey, “I saw you admiring it the whole time and bet you'd look amazing in it. Wear it for me, tiger.”

It’s one of the nicer memories he harbors. A sign that this asshole cared about him at some point. Maybe that is why he keeps it. 

Kazutora doesn’t linger long in this memory and turns back to throw Chifuyu a playful smirk. “But I appreciate the compliment.” 

The slight flush that spreads on Chifuyu’s cheeks is still as predictable as it’s cute and he honestly can’t stop teasing him like this from time to time. No ill intentions, but no one can blame him. 

Kazutora throws on the hoodie that has a nice, clean smell to it. It’s a bit short on the wrists, but his body welcomes the new warmth immediately.

“So,” Chifuyu quickly changes the topic. “You met Baji today?”

Kazutora hides his slight smirk in the next drag that he takes from his cigarette. “Yep. He was nosy as always, but I didn’t tell him about.” He gestures vaguely into the air. “This. Just didn’t feel right and he’ll be worried for nothing.” He shrugs it off as nothing important, trying to appear more chill about it than he actually is. Keisuke will be pissed. And if it’s just about the fact that they hid it from him. 

“Yeah, I get that,” Chifuyu agrees, but his guilty consciousness is written all over his face. “I mean, it doesn’t feel right to not tell him, but…”

“I will handle it, don’t worry. He’ll be pissed at me, not you.”

The pinched smile that Chifuyu throws at him says that he isn’t so sure about that, but Kazutora knows better. He is the one who dragged Chifuyu into this, not the other way around. Plus, Chifuyu totally has some puppy protection when it comes to Kei – and he does understand why.

The cherry of his cig glows when he takes one last drag, before he casually adds, “Oh and in case Kei asks about it: we’ll meet tomorrow by the way.”

“Uhm. What?” Chifuyu blinks at him in confusion.

“Yeah. I will thank you properly for the comp card that you made for me.” Kazutora gives him a wry grin and stubs out the butt on a chipped saucer that’s decorated with tiny paws. 

“Oh. Will you.” Chifuyu returns his grin in a challenging manner. “And where do we exactly meet for that?”

“It’s a secret,” Kazutora replies with a wink that’s maybe a bit too flirty to be appropriate, but he can’t help it when Chifuyu gives him such a response. It just kind of happens. 

His loud laughter changes the mood into something more harmless though. “Okay, I’ll think about something in case he asks. But, just to be clear: you don’t actually need to thank me for that anymore.” Oceangreen eyes give him an intense look he can only withstand for a few heartbeats.

“Yeah, right. It just came up, so I needed to improvise,” Kazutora waves it aside, but the thought about giving him something in return remains present in his mind. 

Maybe he can really come up with a little something… and this time he won’t fuck it up like today.

Chapter Text

His choice of clothes was a mistake.

It’s not that Chifuyu did it on purpose. He just grabbed the first piece that fell into his hands this morning. It’s pure coincidence that it happened to be the hoodie he gave Kazutora yesterday.  

Okay, maybe it was not entirely a coincidence. Maybe he threw it over the back of his pile-of-shame chair that bears the weight of all his freshly washed clothes and slipped into it this morning with a light blush on his cheeks (because he hadn't worn it in a long time). 

But it’s a really nice hoodie and the color matches his eyes. According to Ryusei. Aka his ex boyfriend. Yeah, no thanks, that’s not a road he wants to go down now.  

With a sigh Chifuyu tries to concentrate on his afternoon lecture, but the subtle scent of cigarettes and the man who smoked said cigarettes makes it really hard to follow. 

Baji noticed it immediately, of course. The unfamiliar scent of cold smoke and Chifuyu was quick to lean on Kazutora’s white lie, pretending that he met the guy earlier today. Still, he felt caught in the act and was really glad that Baji didn’t press on it any further. He just gave him that intense glance as if he knew there was more to it, but Baji probably just blamed it on his not so secret crush. 

It’s a curse and a blessing that he knows, really. 

Sharing his apartment with Kazutora is something he still has to get used to. Not because Kazutora makes it hard or something – it’s just… challenging at times. Overwhelming. But, like, in a good way. Mostly.

There just seems to be so much that he doesn’t understand yet, but it feels like he’s getting there. Slowly but steadily. Well, if Kazutora isn’t busy messing with his head. Or heart rate. 

But it’s fine. Chifuyu can deal with his crush like an adult. 

…and wearing the hoodie he gave said crush last night isn’t a crime. 

Yeah. He’s officially a mess. 

But it’s nice to have someone to come home to. Someone to share his thoughts and space with or just a comforting mutual silence. 

Someone who is completely unaware of his presence when he arrives home after his lecture…

Chifuyu doesn’t try to be sneaky on purpose. He just enters like he normally would and Peke J is immediately there to greet him at the entrance, but Kazutora is nowhere to be seen. Which is totally fine. He can do whatever he wants, but normally, he’d be close by, helping to restrain his cat from sneaking through the front door into the hallway. 

His first thought is that maybe he is somewhere outside, busy with his model stuff, but the familiar worn down chucks he spots at the doorstep tell a different story. 

The mystery is solved when Chifuyu takes a peek into the living room and he can’t help it – he stares. 

Strands of blond and black tucked behind his pierced ear revealing the tiny bell earring, Kazutora is bent over his sketchbook, lips slightly parted. His golden eyes are glued to the paper, one hand keeping the notebook in place, the other one dancing over the sheet as if it's following a certain rhythm – and maybe it does. Headphones are blocking out any other sound, which probably explains his absence at the front door. 

He looks like he’s completely absorbed in this and somehow it reminds him of Baji when he deals with the animals at the shop. It’s the sight of a person being perfectly content and at peace with the current moment, drawn into their own little space. 

A wistful smile pulls at Chifuyu’s lips and he decides to let him have a bit more time for himself – although he’d love to watch him a bit longer. But that’d probably be creepy. Plus, he knows that his presence would destroy the easy atmosphere. Kazutora’s shoulders would tense and he’d put his work down or get defensive over it. Things that can wait a bit longer…

Quietly, he tiptoes into the kitchen, careful to not draw any attention. The room is perfectly tidy and Peke J’s water bowl filled with fresh water. Only in the coffee pot is a puddle of cold leftover coffee and Chifuyu is sure that Kazutora just left it there because he thought it would take longer for him to come home. 

With a gentle sigh he cleans the glass pot, taking all the preparation to put on another coffee later. He’s sure that Kazutora will appreciate it too. First, he’s going for a cup of tea though and decided to be an eager college student working on a smaller project he needs to finish soon.

After half an hour he gives up on trying to be productive and allows himself to enjoy a day without any additional work. It’s Friday after all and he already survived two lectures at university today. 

While the coffee machine fills the air with gurgling noises and one of his favorite smells, he gets rid of his zip-up hoodie with a sheepish smile and changes it for a washed out black one. That seems to be a safer option and will spare him any flustering comments from Kazutora. 

Armed with two huge cups of coffee he carefully enters the living room again. Peke J, who quickly left his company after realizing that he won’t get any extra food, curled up next to Kazutora which leaves him equally fond and a tiny bit jealous. Trying to not let it show too much in his welcoming smile (especially the former), he carefully approaches his roommate. 

This time, however, his presence is noticed. As predicted, Kazutora tenses slightly, but seems more relaxed as soon as he recognizes him. It seems to be an automatism to shield the sketchbook from his view though, but Chifuyu doesn’t mind.

“Here. Thought you could use another coffee.” Chifuyu nods towards the empty cup on the table. 

“I wanted to clean it up later. You’re just – you’re home early today. I forgot.”

“No worries. I can take care of the dishes for once.” Chifuyu tries to shrug it off casually and squeezes himself into the space next to Peke J, but there’s a light ache in his chest that pulls at his smile. 

Ignoring the sensation, he chooses humor to approach the topic. “So you turned to your mysterious artist persona again.” Chifuyu points at the sketchbook and takes a sip of coffee to add a natural pause. There’s a quiet snort in response, which boosts his confidence to gently ask, “May I take a look?”

As expected, Kazutora doesn’t seem too fond of the idea, but after shrugging it off with a defensive, “There’s not much to see,” he slowly reveals the drawing that is partly hidden underneath his palm.

The sheet is dominated by darkness. Narrow pencil lines result in a forest-like background with leafless, spider-thin branches, sharp like needles. Formless shadows linger between the massive trunks, reaching out their bony limbs to the lonely figure in the middle, eyes gleaming hostilely through the darkness. It’s a white silhouette with blurry edges, untouched by a pencil. Only in its chest is a pitch-black hole. A gray full-moon is giving a glimpse of dull light on a cloudless night sky that adds more unease than relief. Fallen stars are scattered on the ground like dry leaves, dreary and empty. 

It is just as depressing as it is impressive. His stomach drops and he swallows against the lump in his throat, moved to nearly feel the burning of tears in his eyes. 

Loneliness. Despair. Fear. A whiff of hope even. A storm of emotions bleeds through the paper right into his heart. It’s hauntingly beautiful and he can barely take his eyes off it. 

“It’s… wow,” Chifuyu breathes in awe, stopping the slow movement of his arm that he reached out on instinct. “I – ” He cuts himself off and throws Kazutora a soft smile. “It hits. In a good way. Looking at this… it makes me feel a lot. Which is amazing.” With a sigh, he stops his blabbering and admits, “Sorry, this probably sounds super weird, but I’m just really impressed.” After giving some seconds to let his words sink in without offering enough space for objections, he carefully adds, “Can I see more…?”

Kazutora’s reaction doesn’t surprise him. From the corner of his eye he can watch how he stiffens, fingers clenching around the coffee mug he clings to as if his life depends on it, but he tries to play it cool with a shrug. 

“It’s just some mindless scribbling, but whatever, go ahead or something.”

That’s probably the closest to a yes he’ll ever get, so Chifuyu doesn’t hesitate to reach out for the sketchbook, knowing perfectly well what a great concession it is.

The world he enters leaves him breathless. A space, where awe and ache lie close side by side. There are more landscapes, surreal places where the line between dream and nightmare is thin like paper, terrifying and captivating like an exciting thriller that keeps you awake at night. 

He can spot the bright silhouette more than once, always lonely, always emitting a spark of hope in a world dominated by darkness and shadows and secrets. 

Then there are the sketches in between. Moments to catch his breath and just admire the work of a talented craftsman whose tool is a pen. Sometimes it’s just art studies of lifeless objects or parts of the body. An apple in different states of decay. Hands in various positions. Messy portraits of strangers. A cat that resembles Peke J – 

Chifuyu pauses at that, fingertips brushing carefully over the page, a soft smile playing around his lips and when he flips to the next one, his last doubts vanish together with his ease. 

Eyes growing big in surprise, he stares at the lineart of a guy with messy hair, a small loop in his ear and, what gives him the finishing blow, socks patterned with a logo that resembles Thousand Winters all too well. His drawn version has a bright grin on his lips as it gives pencil Peke J a soft pet on the head. If he wasn’t so damn flustered, maybe he’d appreciate how flattering Kazutora made him look in this, but all Chifuyu can think about right now is the sudden flush of pink that sneaks onto his face. 

Crushes are the worst, really, but his adult-self is quick to handle the situation by immediately flipping the page to a more harmless drawing. (Another study of Peke J in different sizes and positions, which is another detail he’d appreciate more under different circumstances.)

Thank god Kazutora is busy avoiding to look at him or the sketchbook like the plague in favor of giving Peke J a good scratch behind the ears, trying to appear unaffected and calm, but it’ll probably just take a single word from him to break the spell.

Cautious to not strain the frail trust Kazutora has put into him, he ponders his next steps very carefully while he recovers from the marathon his heart decided to host just now. 

“You can study art here in Kyoto, you know,” Chifuyu suggests gently, with a somewhat playful smile on his lips as soon as he trusts his voice again. It’s not primarily meant as a distraction tactic, but rather his attempt to show his genuine opinion in a way Kazutora can handle. 

As expected, the man in question freezes in his movement and the snort he gives in return has a dismissive undertone. 

“I already have a job without any future, I don’t need to waste time and money for a second one.” Kazutora is defensive, but in an unexpectedly serious way. “I buried this naivety a long time ago.”

Ignoring the cold undertone, Chifuyu picks up the thread immediately, carefully asking for more. “So you wanted to become an artist…?”

“It’s a useless subject. Even a five year old is smart enough to get that.” The bitterness in his words sounds familiar and paints a blurry picture in his mind. A small kid, huddled together in a corner with loose sheets and crayons pressed against his chest and scattered around the small body like shards of broken glass as he tries to keep his tears in. In his imagination, the kid is lonely, ears still ringing with way too harsh words for a small soul like this and a fist wraps around Chifuyu’s heart, squeezing it like a lemon as he fights the urge to just hug him. Hug that small kid, although he doesn’t even know how it really happened, but the loneliness he perceives is hard to stomach. 

“But you really have a talent here…,” Chifuyu gently tries to point out. “And – ”

“Listen, I know that you probably mean well, which is strange enough, but I gave up on that shit for a reason.” It doesn’t come as a surprise that Kazutora cuts him off, but the tiredness in his bitter voice is something he didn’t expect. “My parents are trash, but if there’s one thing they were right about, it’s that this is a waste of time. Which is weirdly fitting, since I was a waste of their time too. Got that beaten into me often enough.” 

Suddenly, the room temperature seems to drop drastically. Kazutora stops immediately as if realizing only now where he is. Golden eyes quickly brush over him and then, a too wide, a too amused grin spreads on his lips, pulls them apart, until peals of laughter fill the air like a cruel cheer. 

And Chifuyu, he just stares at him, stares in utter bewilderment as the image in his mind begins to change into something he doesn’t even want to imagine, something violent and cruel and despite the rather vague allusions, something tells him that there’s truth in it. A truth that makes nausea grow in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do with that information, while Kazutora still laughs as if this is nothing but a dumb joke. 

“Oh my god, you should see your face right now, Chifuyu!” he jokes between his misplaced chuckles and gives him a wry grin. “Sorry, I was just kidding! Being an overly dramatic asshole and stuff, but it works just too good on you and your shocked face is really cute.” 

The wink Kazutora gives him is the most inappropriate move he has ever seen and if he didn’t know him a bit by now, Chifuyu would be pissed to no end – but he can see a pattern here, which helps him to meet his anger with reason rather than throwing a punch back. Doesn’t mean he won’t call Kazutora out on his dick move though.  

“You know, I get it. It’s a sensitive topic and you tend to provoke people when they get too close, which is an asshole move. But that won’t work on me and you don’t need to pull this kind of bullshit, so just cut it out.” He doesn’t yell or snap and simply states his opinion with calm seriousness, but Kazutora doesn’t seem very impressed. 

“Woha, what happened to your nice guy persona, huh? Is it just for show?”

It’s another taunt, another attempt to make him lose his cool, but Chifuyu won’t be fooled. He is angry, yes, but not in a way that makes him lash out or forget about the things Kazutora wants to distract him from. 

With a deep exhale, he calms his nerves, before looking Kazutora straight in the eye full of stubborn determination. “I’m not here to pick a fight with you, Kazutora. But I won’t stop telling you that I’m impressed with your art either and if you ask me, I'm convinced others would be too. So if you ever consider giving it a shot, you’ll have my support. Actually, I am already a fan, okay?” Ending on a fierce smile, he can feel the truth of his own words reverberating through his whole body, but it’s not received very well. 

In fact, he can hardly even tell what Kazutora thinks. The man stonewalls immediately and the silence that settles between them is the epitome of uncomfortable. 

Nothing about this is surprising and he probably crossed a certain line, but Chifuyu sticks to his words. Considering that Kazutora didn’t flee yet, it may have hit a nerve and he counts it as a good sign. Maybe he finally starts to trust him more than his own wary beliefs – or he tries to, at least. 

After what feels like an eternity with neither of them moving a muscle, Kazutora comes up with an answer, voice quiet and somewhat frustrated. Or is it helplessness? 

“I don’t fucking get you. Just what… do you want from me?”

It’s the same old question that settles like a stone in his stomach and Chifuyu can tell by the deep frown on his forehead that it’s really bothering Kazutora. 

Words like price and debt resound in his mind and he realizes that it seems to be a fundamental thing to him. Something that he adjusts his actions to. Without a clear answer he is lost like a stray wanderer in the dark, unable to predict what’s going to happen next, but it’s obvious that he’s always prepared for the worst. Prepared to be used by others. Hurt even. There is no room for simple acts of kindness or nice words. Chifuyu got that by now, but it never fails to hit him anew. 

It must be so damn tiring to see the world like this, scary even and he can feel every last bit of his suppressed anger soften with compassion and understanding. 

It’s never been about what Kazutora wants, huh? Always about others and how to – the word leaves a bitter taste on his tongue – please them.

Now it’s him who needs some time for an answer, but Chifuyu thinks that honesty works best, so he just tries to be straightforward with his thoughts and intentions – from the beginning up till now. 

“Well, first, I wanted to rebuke you for your audacity at that bar,” he starts with a playful smile, trying to soothe the tension a bit. “Then, after we talked for a while… I wanted to kiss and sleep with you – and after that preferably meet you again to get to know you better. Which happened, but not in the way I expected, so next, I wanted to get to know you better not only for my sake, but also for Baji’s sake. And now… it’s honestly still the same. I just want to learn more about you and help a friend’s friend.” He finishes his quick babble with a sincere smile and a hint of blush on his cheeks, but there are more words on the tip of his tongue, urging to be let out. He just needs Kazutora to hear them. 
“You’re really nice to be around and I like coming home and chatting with you. I already told you, it’s not because you’re pretty or a model or anything. I just think you’re a great guy, who seems to have gone through a lot, but this is supposed to be a new start, right? So let’s just say, I want to help you with your new start.”

It‘s a lot to process. Chifuyu is aware of that and honestly, he needs some time for himself to let sink in what he just shared, but it‘s his sincere thoughts.

Their mutual silence isn‘t uncomfortable this time, but he can‘t shake off a whiff of his familiar crush-caused nervousness.

Kazutora breaks it within seconds though by catching him totally off guard with his response.

“I‘m not a keeper.” His voice is quiet but firm as he absently spins around the lukewarm coffee in his mug.

“Huh?”

“I just want to be clear with you as well. You‘re a nice guy and...“ Biting his lower lip, Kazutora pauses and leans back his head with a soft sigh. Then he admits, eyes fixed on the ceiling, “I like being here. So I don‘t want to give you any false hope or impression or whatever. I‘m a mess. I‘m difficult to deal with. A coward who runs away from his problems and a shitty friend in general. You won‘t get anything nice from me, so don‘t expect to.”

There’s no emotion in his words. It’s just a juxtaposition of so-called facts hitting in a way that makes Chifuyu swallow.

It’s obvious that these are Kazutora’s die-hard beliefs and no matter how much he wants to argue, deep down he knows it won’t do much good. You can’t change these kinds of things with a few well-meant words and from what he heard about his parents just now, it’s a lot worse than he even imagined, but the simple fact that he told him so freely about it is a huge step forward. 

Kazutora isn’t one to share his secrets easily – and the decoy that’s soon to follow shouldn't surprise him, but Chifuyu isn’t prepared. He never is, when the man next to him gives him his wryest smile. 

“Well, or let’s rather say the only nice thing I could give you is off limits. Which is very unfortunate, by the way.” 

Kazutora’s shameless, inappropriate flirting is something he’ll never get used to – and it never fails to hit its aim either. 

Heat spreads in Chifuyu’s cheeks like a forest fire, eyes blown wide and lips parted in preparation for a smart response that won’t come anytime soon.

Kazutora, however, is quick to deescalate the situation himself, lips turning into a somewhat pinched expression. “Sorry. I’m just teasing you. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable and stuff. It’s just – I’m not used to this.” He gestures vaguely into the air, eyes set on the mug in his lap and although Chifuyu isn’t sure what he means in detail, he doesn’t interrupt. “But thank you. For – I don’t know. Dealing with my bullshit, I guess.” 

His cautious sideways glance is accompanied by a small smile, tinged with a hint of sadness.

It’s like a storm breaks loose in Chifuyu’s mind, swirling around different thoughts and emotions like      branches and pebbles, but Kazutora is on his feet before he can utter a single coherent thought.

“Kazu – ”

“Just need a smoke,” he explains quietly without looking back at him. Chifuyu gets the silent plea for a moment of alone time and nods in agreement, even though it goes unseen. He does hope that his voice conveys his understanding smile though.

“Yeah, sure.”

He leaves nothing heavy or uncomfortable in the room, just a hundred different things to process, but Chifuyu’’s overall feeling is a pleasant one. Overwhelmed, but pleasant. And still a tiiiiny bit flustered.

Absently, he strokes Peke J’s soft fur with one hand and takes a sip of coffee that became entirely cold in the meantime. Scrunching his nose he leans forward to place the cup at the loaded coffee table, gaze gracing the abandoned sketchbook. It‘s wide open, showing a glassy teapot that harbors a dying underwater world due to the lack of water (or rather tea).

Getting lost in this tiny universe for some heartbeats happens automatically and he has the undeniable urge to look for more, but instead of flipping the page, he closes the sketchbook with a fond smile.

He’ll take another look when Kazutora is comfortable with it, being content with the valuable vote of confidence that he left it here with him in the first place.

“You sure you don’t want to join?”

Throwing an icy blue button up shirt over his shoulders, Chifuyu gives Kazutora a last questioning glance as he walks through the living room. 

It’s early evening and over their unexpected deep talk, he nearly forgot that he promised Takemichi to meet him and the others at a bar today. After ditching them quite often lately, he totally needs to show his face again. Besides, he is looking forward to it, but leaving Kazutora all alone on a Friday night doesn’t feel right.

Said man, however, doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

“Yep, I’m fine here,“ he says, casually lifting the remote for the tv. “Need to take the opportunity to watch something other than romance sitcoms.“ Kazutora smirks and Chifuyu can feel the tips of his ears growing red, which he chooses to ignore in favor of teasing back.

“Yeah, whatever you philistine.“ Pointing his forefinger into Kazutora’s direction, he throws him a self-assured grin. “But you can’t fool me, I know you enjoy it too!“

“Or maybe I’m just hiding that I’m actually an infamous actor and you’re the philistine for not recognizing me.“

He can’t hold in his laughter at this point, finishing their playful bickering with an ironic, “Yeah, sure.“

Kazutora’s amused chuckle seems to join in naturally, which is a different kind of endearing, he notes.

Shoving these thoughts hastily into crush-centered prison, which is a special corner in the back of his mind, Chifuyu gives Peke J a last pet on the head and then says his goodbye to his way too handsome roommate.

“Have fun with your movie night and see you later. Mr. Infamous actor.“

“Same goes for you, Mr. Pretty cute boy.“ Of course, it’s accompanied by another wink, which leads to more thoughts that immediately go into crush-prison, but Chifuyu overplays it with a deep sigh, a slight shake of his head and a full-hearted roll of his eyes. He can’t bite back the smile on his lips though.

“No comment,“ he states as seriously as possible, but Kazutora’s soft laughter mingling with the quiet jingle of his bell earring makes it really hard to keep up the facade and Chifuyu still wears a gentle smile on his lips when he closes the door behind him. 

Chapter Text

Chifuyu's cat makes him feel like a criminal.

Bright, yellow eyes watch every move he takes as Kazutora puts enough make up on his face to create the illusion of perfect skin and, after giving it some thought, adds just a hint of eyeliner.

It's not that he fancies the idea of leaving the comfort and safety of Chifuyu's apartment, but that's exactly the point: he mustn't get too comfortable here. Needs to look for an alternative sooner rather than later, so he has to take an opportunity when it opens up.

He can't stay here forever...no matter how nice it feels.

"Don't look at me like that...," he mumbles, but can't bring himself to close the bathroom door and lock Peke J out. Actually, he deserves his judgy glances and the mere thought of hooking up with a slimy stranger makes him nauseous, but Kazutora learned to stomach it.

With a scrutinizing look, he grabs a fistfull of his hair and holds it up to mimic a bun, but decides to wear it down today. Guarding its neck makes a tiger less vulnerable (and some guys get off by wrapping their fingers around his hair to pull or keep him in place, but that's a thought he shoves aside quickly).

Avoiding to take another look at himself in the mirror, Kazutora heads straight to the living room aka his current living space. His sketchbook still rests on the coffee table for everyone to see and it’s strange, but he doesn’t even has the urge to hide it deep inside his suitcase. It’s…okay if it just lies there. 

Well. Maybe he can put it into the storage space underneath the table, just in case, but he doesn’t mind if Chifuyu sees it. And maybe, just maybe, he could also finally give him the small thing he prepared to make up for the comp card.

It’s no big deal, really, but the right moment wasn’t just there yet. He’s not used to this kind of stuff and doesn’t want to fuck it up. Plus, it’s kind of embarrassing, because Chifuyu likes embarrassing things, which is cute in a way, but – what if he got it all wrong?  

Chewing on his lower lip, he shoves these things aside for now. This is a problem future Kazutora can deal with, present Kazutora needs to concentrate on a different kind of unpleasant stuff now.

Dressed in a tight pair of dark jeans, his expensive tiger print jacket and a black, low cut shirt that reveals enough of his collarbones to be an appealing tease, he aims for a high class bar tonight. No place for cute college students and their friends – and no place for him either, but he learned to play his part perfectly.

Getting past the doorman is the hardest part, but with the right choice of words and a bit of acting, he usually gets in quickly. Just drop the name of an important sounding person who waits for your appearance, act super annoyed and bratty if the doorman asks for more information and, if it still doesn’t work, threaten to tell said important person to ditch the location next time in favor of a bar who doesn’t make an unnecessary fuss.

Works perfectly and this time, it only needs the second step to get access to the bar. Good for him.

It’s stuffy inside, but the subtle, pleasant scent in the air tells that they work with room fresheners.

The interior is based on the principle of simple elegance, dominated by black, white and gold. Subtle jazz music adds a nice background noise. It’s a place for people who care about appearance more than anything else and are willing to spend their money on a beautiful illusion.

Well, he can give it to them, no problem at all. Playing pretend is a game he already mastered as a kid.

Armed with a glass of tap water, he strolls leisurely through the bar, one hand buried in the pocket of his jeans. Whenever he spots someone worth trying to get their attention, he casually stops to take a sip, making a real show out of it.

It works every time and soon, there‘s a suitable candidate.

“Hey, kitty. You alone here?” The pet name makes him cringe, but Kazutora fakes his most seductive smile before he answers.

“I’m not sure. Am I?” He turns a bit more to the guy who is seated at a round table with five other men, all dressed in more or less expensive suits.

“Let’s find out with a drink, shall we?“ Smugly, he pats to the space next to him, revealing the overly expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. “You like the hard stuff?“

Ugh. This guy’s flirting is next level uncomfortable, but it’s an easy catch and he seems rich, self-assured and handsome enough to be worth a shot. 

So he swallows down his unease, pride and disgust, forcing a delighted smile onto his lips. “I’ll take whatever you choose.”

With an amused raise of his eyebrows, the guy smirks. “Is that so?” He moves over just enough for Kazutora to fit into the space next to him, but their bodies touch inevitably. Kazutora can feel the unpleasant weight of five pairs of eyes that scan every visible inch of him, but he tries to concentrate on their leader.

It’s obvious that he is the one in charge, degrading the other of his group to nothing more but admirers trying to get a piece of the cake. The parallels to Shuji are undeniable, but he can’t be too picky. Besides, he knows perfectly well how to deal with a guy like this.

“So. Tell us something about yourself, kitty.” He gestures towards his circle of lickspittles, a glass with an amber liquid on his lips. The hand that grabs his thigh is firm and subtly possessive. Kazutora fights the urge to swat it away and forces himself with his best fake smile to lean into the touch, the warmth of a stranger’s body who has already undressed him with his gazes a hundred times.

Then he plays his part, trying to figure out if this guy is someone to stay with for a longer period of time.


It could work out. He’s a higher up at a tech company who seems bored and horny enough to potentially have some use for him. Given that he is honest and doesn’t just look for an easy opportunity to cheat on his wife.

He should be glad to have already found someone who seems suitable, but the notion of following this guy home or to a hotel room to ‘test the chemistry’ settles like a rock in his stomach. Kazutora doesn’t want to be touched by those hands. Doesn’t want to feel those lips on his body. Doesn’t want to know how he tastes or the sound he gives his name, but he still allows the man’s fingers to sneak underneath the hem of his shirt; settle on his hip bone; draw circles on his bare skin.
And he laughs at his dumb jokes and leans in closer, closer, closer, pretends, pretends, pretends, until he feels like throwing up on his gin tonic, but he can hide it behind his smile so well. 

“A perfectly tamed tiger, huh?” , Shuji mocks in his thoughts and he wants to flip the fucking table and scream and throw his fist against the wall, but Shuji’d only laugh at him, knowing perfectly well he wouldn’t bite the hand who feeds him. Kazutora learned to spare himself the humiliation, swallowing his boiling anger down until there’s someone he can safely leash out to. This is why he prefers to stay away from good people. 

The sudden vibration of his phone rips him out of it. Normally, he’d just ignore it, keeping his focus on the task at hand, but it’s way too tempting to grasp at this straw and take a moment of much needed distraction. Get a breath of fresh air and brace himself for the rest of the evening.

“I’m going to take a smoke outside.” Kazutora mumbles against the man’s earlobe, tracing over his thigh as a silent promise to come back soon.

“That’s bad for your health, kitty,” he scolds with an amused grin and gives his waist a playful squeeze, which earns him some chuckles from his group of idiots. “Don’t catch a cold.” A rough hand cups his cheek. Guides him closer, until whiskey stained lips steal his breath. Despite his inner aversion Kazutora complies without any visible hesitation, opens his mouth obediently to welcome a greedy tongue and tries his hardest to space out until it’s over.

He didn’t have nearly enough drinks for this shit yet, but getting wasted isn’t an option either. Keeping his head clear enough to get out of trouble if necessary is a must when dealing with such guys and although he doesn’t really give a fuck about himself, he’s not stupid.  

“You should hurry to come back inside. I might have a treat for you later,” the guy promises and Kazutora isn’t sure if he’s so keen on finding out about said treat, but he answers with a charming smile, tip of his tongue licking casually over his lower lip as if he can’t wait to get another taste. 

It's like he's on autopilot. Just another line of the script that he knows by heart. Doesn’t even take much effort anymore. If he ignores the struggle to constantly suppress his growing disgust – or the urge to kick this guy’s teeth whenever he comes up with that cringe pet name. 

As soon as he turns his back to the guy, the stupid smile is wiped away from his mouth, replaced by a cold mask of aloofness. It’s his don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-face. 

Feeling the cool night air on his skin is deliberating. Kazutora lets out a deep breath of relief, shaking off the weight of heavy hands on his body. 

The cherry of his cig glows up when he takes a first, much needed drag, drowning out the taste of stale whiskey from a stranger’s lips with tarry smoke. This is why he would never quit smoking. 

After grounding himself enough to handle another possible downer, he reaches for his phone. There’s only a handful of people who would message him and one of them has the hidden talent to always worsen his day – but for once, it’s not Shuji making him even more miserable. 

His heart skips a tiny beat in excitement when he reads Chifuyu’s name, which is only natural after dealing with that old geezer for the past two hours. It’s just the kind of distraction he needs right now. A few nice words from someone who doesn’t just want to use him for his own pleasures or gain.

Wanna grab a coffee? :)

The question catches him by surprise. It’s the middle of the night and he is out with his friends, so where is this suddenly coming from…?

Frowning slightly and with an amused smile growing on his lips, Kazutora types back: Are you drunk, college boy?  

The notion makes the grin on his lips only become wider. Seeing Chifuyu drunk would probably be a real show – or at least he imagines him to do a lot of entertaining and cute stuff.

The answer comes promptly. 

No! Maybe a little tipsy. But that’s not the point!

…

Smiling around his cigarette, he takes another drag and waits for the rest of the message. It’s strange how such a little conversation can have such an impact on his mood. It really is like taking a break from a tiresome job – only that it’s his life he needs a break from.

So. You in? 

Okay, wow. So he is serious about this…?

Kazutora takes a look over his shoulder to check if someone’s already looking for him, before turning to his phone screen again. 

Undecicedly, he starts to chew on his lower lip. 

It’s a tempting offer and this clearly isn’t a question of what he wants to do, but what he can allow himself to do. 

The guy waiting inside could be a good catch, except for the weird pet names, but on the other hand, he already feels sick from imagining going back in there and being dragged to the guy’s lap, with his hot breath brushing over his neck and these greedy hands on his waist. He can’t afford to drink enough alcohol to make it bearable tonight and although it’s downright stupid, like, the most stupid thing he could do, he can’t say no.

There’ll be another time, another asshole who’ll gladly use him and be used by him in return. This world’s full of them and maybe, he’ll feel it more next time.

It’s a blatant lie. The longer he waits, the harder it will get, but fuck it, even he can have something nice for once in his life, can’t he? He’ll be back to this shit soon enough, so there’s no harm in dragging it out a bit longer. 

Like, give him a fucking rest.

After pep talking himself enough to silence his own words of doubt (and reason), he types down a quick reply. 

If you insist, college boy. Tell me a place and I’ll be there in an hour. 

The way Chifuyu immediately replies brings the amused smile back to his face and he needs to restrain himself from commenting on it with something inappropriate, but his enthusiasm really is kind of cute. 

Drip & Drop coffee house, prepare for the best late night coffee of your life!

He does, by rushing to the place he currently calls home to take a quick shower that is hot enough to burn away the invisible traces of unpleasant touches. It ruins his makeup, but he doesn’t bother to refresh it and gets rid of the mask he put on to please random strangers. For Chifuyu, he doesn’t need to pretend. 

After slipping into his favorite baggy shirt and another dark pair of jeans, he feels ready to face the nice guy who’d probably be ashamed to be seen with him if he knew about the way he spent his evening.

The notion leaves the bitter taste of bile in his mouth and the nasty heat of humiliation crawls into his cheeks. For a split second, Kazutora wants nothing more but to grab his suitcase and run. Flee, like he always does when things get too overwhelming, but he pulls himself together and tells himself that it won’t be like this forever. Once he earned enough money to rent his own place, none of this stuff will matter anymore and now he will take a fucking break and grab a midnight coffee with someone he actually likes to be around. 

So, after saying his goodbye to Peke J and last minute grabbing the thank-you-thing he got for Chifuyu, just in case, he heads outside for the second time tonight.

Instead of growing nausea, there’s a tingle of excitement in his stomach now. 


When he spots the coffee house in the distance, he can already see the silhouette of someone waiting outside. Kazutora still wonders what this is all about, but he hides his curiosity and the dumb voices of suspicion behind a carefree smile. 

“Hey. Heard some college boy wants to grab a coffee with me in the middle of the night.”

Chifuyu’s face lightens up as soon as he notices him, which leaves him with an unidentifiable feeling that he chooses to ignore.

“Oh, hey model guy, who actually agreed to come here in the middle of the night for a coffee,” Chifuyu tries to mimic his greeting, but breaks into laughter right away. “Sorry, I didn’t really think I’d get a reply from you in the first place. It was just a sudden idea that crossed my mind when my coworker asked me if I could check for him if he really closed the backdoor. That’s the downside of living near the coffee shop. But I thought: why not ask if you want to come over and join me?” he rambles, cheeks rosy due to the alcohol in his system. “I mean, it’s Friday night! And I thought about you sitting alone in my tiny apartment and it didn’t feel right.”

His tipsy babbling where he nearly stumbles over his own tongue is kind of cute, but the underlying implication catches Kazutora by surprise. As usual, he is quick to overplay it with a smug remark though. “So you think about me when you’re out with your friends, doing favors for your coworkers?”

With another laugh, Chifuyu playfully punches his shoulder. “Oh, shut up or you won’t get any coffee!” 

Amused, he watches how his current roommate walks past him, rummaging for something in his trousers only to reveal his key and open the front door with a soft click.

“Don’t tell my boss that I brought you with me, okay?” Chifuyu smirks, pressing his forefinger against his lips in a conspiratorial manner. 

“Wow. I never considered you the delinquent type, Chifuyu.”

He gets a dramatic eye roll in return and follows with a smug smile on his face. 

It’s dark inside the coffee house, with huge shutters blocking the view from noisy eyes. Kazutora has never been inside here before, but when Chifuyu turns on a dimmed light over the counter, he can get a better view at the interior. 

It’s plain, equipped with square wooden tables and high armchairs and sofas, dyed in colors that are probably called cappuccino or espresso. You can find the stereotypical pictures showing close-up coffee beans or a cup of cappuccino, decorated with a heart made of cocoa powder on the walls, but it’s subtle enough to look classy instead of cheap. 

“I’m going to check the backdoor, take a seat and think about your order in the meantime.” Chifuyu tells him with a small wink and a bright grin on his face. 

Being tipsy seems to make him more daring in a flirty way and Kazutora can’t say that he doesn’t like it. Smirking, he watches him vanish through a door labeled with ‘Staff Only’ and then climbs onto the counter, legs dangling casually from his elevated position. 

“What are you doing?” Chifuyu greets him back after a few minutes with a slight shake of his head, but he can’t bite back his smile. 

“Taking a seat where I can watch you work,” Kazutora replies casually and gives him a wry grin.

Chifuyu just sighs dramatically and heads for a sink to wash his hands. “So. You decided on your drink?” he asks, while he dries them on a towel and then moves to a switch hidden between metallic tea boxes. Every step he takes looks practiced and he doesn’t take his eyes off him for even a second. 

“Surprise me with the best.” Kazutora grins challengingly, finding strange delight in watching Chifuyu doing his, well, job basically. Objectively speaking it’s nothing fancy or thrilling, but – it’s nice, somehow. 

Snorting, Chifuyu gets to work and he feels the strange itch in his fingers to get the scene in front of him on paper. Turn it into something palpable and catch the uniqueness of a mundane task at a moment in time where everything feels just right. 

He hesitates briefly, but his fingers already brush over the hard surface of his phone. 

“What are you doing?” Catching him from the corner of his eyes, Chifuyu turns to him, his brows slightly furrowed. The fancy coffee machine makes some gurgling noises in the background. 

“Don’t mind me,” Kazutora grins broadly, examining the quick snapshot on his display. 

Chifuyu’s frown deepens. “Are you taking a picture?”

“It’s called inspiration. Thought you are my fan, so help me out.”

Taken aback, Chifuyu opens his mouth, just to close it again, before he throws a towel, aiming right at his face. “You – are the worst.” Chifuyu complains laughing and the way his cheeks blush just a little more is really cute.

Smirking, Kazutora catches the towel and keeps it in his lap like a trophy. Suddenly, something funny happens. There’s a warmth in his chest, a warmth in his heart and it stumbles clumsily in excitement, whispers of a desire to reach out and grab this moment, grab Chifuyu, grab this happiness – but he brushes it aside with a lazy smile.

Dream on, he scornfully whispers to himself and purposely recalls how he spent the last hours, the last years, his whole fucking life. Digs deeper into memories that make his skin crawl, until his head is clear in a very sobering way.

“There you go.” Chifuyu rips him out of it by placing a huge latte macchiato glass on the counter. The milk foam is sprinkled with a snowflake made of cacao powder. 

“Very impressive, your artwork. But just a lame latte macchiato?” Kazutora arches an eyebrow, overplaying his little moment of being pathetic. 

“Wait till you try it!” Chifuyu counters with a self-assured gleam in his eyes, holding a similar glass in his hand. “And now get down from there and choose a seat.”

Kazutora complies and jumps off the counter with a swift movement. The latte macchiato-ish drink is warm in his hands, but he can spot a layer of a darker liquid at the bottom of the glass and traces of something that has the color of molten caramel. 

“Did you just mix a bit of everything together? Is this even drinkable?” he teases as he slouches down on a way too comfortable couch.  

"If you keep this up, I'll do it next time!" Chifuyu threatens with a grin and gets down next to him.

“Oh. So you’re already planning another midnight coffee date?”

“Shut up!”

Grinning, Kazutora takes a sip and is surprised about the different tastes on the tip of his tongue. There’s the bitter note of coffee, caramell like he guessed, but with a hint of salt and something creamy, laced with just a trace of alcohol. 

“Wow. It’s actually pretty good,” he notes, with genuine appreciation. 

“Told you so!” The smug grin on Chifuyu’s face really is something else. He should totally show this more often. Or, on second thought, maybe not. It’s way too kissable. How is this guy even single?

It’s a dangerous road to take and he wards it off in favor of another teasing grin. “But is there alcohol in it?”

“Mayhaps. A barista doesn’t tell his secrets.”

“So you wanna get me drunk, college boy?”

Laughing, Chifuyu replies with a challenging grin. “I think you can handle more than a bit of creamy liquor in your coffee.”

“Oh, so that’s one of the magically secret ingredients.”

It’s so easy. Joking and fooling around like this as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. For Chifuyu, it probably is. 

They fall into a lighthearted conversation about different types of coffee drinkers, with Chifuyu adding some funny stories about past customers. It means nothing, but it's the world to him.

Years seem to lie between the stuffy bar and the coffee shop. It’s like another universe. A place to recharge. A place to heal. And although he is nothing more but a passing traveler, it’d be nice to visit from time to time. 

Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.


It’s when Chifuyu leaves for the restroom that Kazutora can feel the weight of the stupid something he got for him tugging at the inner pocket of his tigerprint jacket in a very demanding way. 

He didn’t forget about it. He just… kind of pushed it aside. 

It’s no big deal, really. Nevertheless, he spends an unnecessary amount of time hesitating and biting his lips before digging it out of his pocket. He'll just get it over with now. 

Even if Chifuyu thinks it’s lame, he won’t be a dick about it. And if he is, to hell with him. Kazutora totally doesn’t need him. Or any of this. 

Fuck. He has no business of being so nervous about this stupid shit…

After placing the stuff on the seat next to him, he grabs his glass and empties the puny remains into his mouth. Keeping himself busy and stuff.

He also considers taking a smoke to calm his nerves and spare himself Chifuyu’s first reaction, but that’d be even more pathetic. 

When he hears the noise of the restroom door being pushed open in the background, he tightens his grip around the glass and brings it to his lips again, pretending to take another sip of his nonexistent drink.

Yeah. That’s not pathetic at all.  

“I love the smell of the soap they use here,” Chifuyu tells him casually as he rubs his hands together. “Unfortunately, it’s some super fancy brand that costs a fortune considering that it’s just soap. But the owner of the brand is an old college friends from my boss, so – ”

His easy chatter comes to a sudden halt when he spots the new item on the couch, eyes growing wide in surprise. 

“Is this… what I think it is?” he mumbles after a moment of stunned silence, looking at Kazutora as if he has just seen the eighth world wonder.

It’s cute. Some might say adorable, but he crosses that. 

“Don’t know. Maybe you should take it and find out.” Kazutora suggests with an amused smile, but deep inside he is still tense.

With his gaze darting from the present to Kazutora and back he nods, a gleam of excitement flashing through his eyes as he takes it in his hands.
It’s the third volume of an old and rather unknown shoujo manga. Chifuyu fancies this stuff and dropped that it’s one of his all time favorite series, but he misses the two volumes that he borrowed some classmate back in highschool. Since it’s so niche, it’s really hard to find them anywhere nowadays – and Kazutora was just lucky, to be honest. He remembered that old manga store near that 24h diner he often used to kill time after another night in a stranger’s bed, looking for something suitable and there it was. Not really his merit, just coincidence.  

 “How…?” Chifuyu asks in awe as he scrolls through the pages, giving Kazutora a deeply amazed side-glance.  

“I stumbled across it and thought you might appreciate it. For the comp card and stuff. I never thanked you properly for it. So thanks, pretty boy.” He gives him a small, wry grin, but can’t really bear to look at him. He’s still too tensed, knowing it’s just going to be a matter of seconds before he finds – 

“Oh.”

There we go…

Trying to play it cool, Kazutora crosses his arms behind his head, hating how his heart pounds loud enough against his ribcage to echo in his ears, hating how his palms get all sweaty, hating to be so goddamn pathetic

“It’s so pretty,” Chifuyu notes, admiring the bookmark in his hands as if it’s a long lost treasure. One side shows the main protagonists, standing back to back with their hands intertwined, while he tried to capture one of Chifuyu’s favorite scenes on the other side. It involves stargazing and linked pinkies.    

 “You made this yourself.” It’s a conclusion, not a question. 

Kazutora shrugs, hands sliding down into the pockets of his jacket. “Maybe my hand slipped with a pen,” he smirks. 

Chifuyu’s smile is so joyful, so genuinely moved, that he can’t help but to rejoice as well. It’s overwhelming, but in a good way. 

“I honestly don’t know what to say…”, Chifuyu admits, hands brushing appreciatively over the cover. Then he turns to him, takes him into focus with his gentle eyes that brim with excitement and Kazutora is mesmerized, unable to escape. 

“Thank you, Kazutora. I really…” Chiufuy stops mid sentence, gaze dropping to his mouth before quickly darting upward again and he chews on his lips, cheeks flushed in a very pretty shade of pink, hesitating, wondering, until determination makes his smile more daring and he crosses the distance within a single heartbeat. 

It starts softly, two pairs of lips brushing against each other, but soon it grows into something more demanding, something more familiar. 

It’s a sweet kiss, just like the coffee drink he can taste from Chifuyu’s lips now, but dangerous like the liquor in it. 

Kazutora parts his lips when the tip of a tongue pushes against them, but his mind remains watchful, weighing up the next steps.

It’s not a question of what he prefers. Actually, adding sex to this would make things much easier for him and help to keep the distance he needs. It’s something predictable. Something familiar. Something he can control.

But this is Chifuyu, someone who genuinely seems to believe in the concept of love and relationships and all of that cheesy stuff – and it’s exactly what he deserves, but nothing he will ever find in him.

Plus, Keisuke would totally hunt him down and skin him alive if he ever were to hurt Chifuyu. Fuck, he’d probably skin himself alive for that. 

“Chifuyu.” Their lips are only inches apart and something inside him aches for more, but he wills himself to get enough distance between their faces to lock eyes with him. “We can do this, but it won’t mean a thing and it isn’t going to lead anywhere. I’m not looking for romance or a relationship.”

Chifuyu gives him a reassuring smile. “I know, don’t worry. I don’t expect anything from you. We can just… have a good time together?” His grin is inviting, but flustered around the edges. Damn, Kazutora wants to kiss him senseless. “If you want to. Nothing’s gonna happen if you say no.”

It’s funny, really, how he can believe him without a second thought. Chifuyu’s kiss wasn’t meant to take, but to ask. He doesn’t mind giving, though. 

“Good to know, but…” Smirking, he leans in closer, parts his lips, breath brushing over Chifuyu’s earlobe as he mumbles, “I don’t want to say no.”

It’s like adding fuel to a fire. 

Their lips collide, get tangled in a messy kiss, more teeth than lips. Hands are all over the place, tugging at clothes, touching bare skin, messing up strands of hair. 

It’s chaotic and unpredictable, not following a script but raw emotions and desires that have been kept under lock. A dangerous game to play, but Kazutora knows how to gain control in this – or rather he tries to.

Getting onto Chifuyu's lap should be a piece of cake, but the man surprises him once more, giving him unexpected resistance and locks their hands to change positions. After a moment of astonishment, Kazutora allows it, feeling Chifuyu’s weight on his lap who throws him a cheeky grin when they part to catch a breath. 

“You’re full of surprises, pretty boy,” Kazutora tells him with an amused grin, reaching out a hand to stroke his side promisingly. “So. What’s on your mind?”

“I…” Chifuyu leans in closer, mouth pressing the ghost of a kiss onto the ink on his neck. “Want to make you feel really good.” The kisses he starts to peppers his skin with are wet and messy, predestined to make a man lose his mind. “Can you tell me how?” 

It’s hard to keep his concentration, keep his composure, keep his guard. Kazutora wants nothing more but to close his eyes, head thrown back into his neck, releasing the moan forming in the back of his throat. 

He gulps, trying to keep a steady voice. “You’re doing pretty good already.” He tries for a smile that goes unseen, feeling the vibration of a hum on his skin. It’s overwhelming in a way he didn’t expect. Nothing of this happens in a way he expected.

“Good.” Where he normally would find a predatory smile, Chifuyu’s is rather encouraging. “Then sit back and relax.” Gentle, but determined fingers wrap around the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. Only a blink of an eye later, Chifuyu’s mouth is back on his body, accompanied by warm hands. 

He seems eager, even a bit nervous at first, as he touches him with care and passion, taking his time to pause now and then, to cherish, to slowly take him apart. 

Caught off guard, he isn’t sure how to handle this. Not just because it feels fucking amazing to be touches by someone whose hands, whose mouth, he actually wants all over his body – the whole scenery is unusual. 

He only knows how to please, how to pretend, how to play his part – but not like this. Not in a way that pushes him into focus without expecting anything in return. 

Shuji would sometimes give him a treat, push all the buttons he knew by heart to make him shiver, make him moan, make him fall apart underneath his possessive hands within seconds, but it always came with a debt. 

The control he desired is slowly slipping out of Kazutora’s fingers and there’s a voice in his head that screams at him to stop, to retreat, to fucking run away from this, but he can’t.

It’s too good, his body brimming with arousal, with desire and he can’t give a fuck about the consequences right now. 

A moan falls from his lips like a plea, a vulnerable, embarrassing sound and he claws his fingers into the couch, eyelids pressed tightly together. When he opens them heavily, head spinning like a hurricane, he meets an ocean to drown in, gentle eyes clouded with lust. 

It’s Chifuyu sitting between his thighs, hands sliding underneath the waistband of his boxers and for a split second there is the urge to destroy this. Reveal all his ugly truths, spit them into his face, watch how his expression changes to disgust, get what he actually deserves. 

But he is weak to the tender hands of a man harboring a heart of gold and unlike Chifuyu, he isn’t a good person. So Kazutora keeps his silence and gives himself to someone who never should have touched a broken thing like him in the first place.

Chapter Text

Chifuyu wouldn’t consider himself outstandingly reckless. 

Sure, he would go any length for a friend in need and may be predestined to overdue it a little if it came down to it; and back in middle school he wouldn’t take any shit, picking up fights without thinking twice, which got him into one or the other uncomfortable (his mother would say dangerous) situation, but he grew into a mature, responsible, young adult. 

…a mature, responsible young adult, who thought that it was a good idea to start a little, well, something at his workplace with the guy he has a major crush on but would never date, because a) he is Baji’s best friend – and that’s already enough to turn this into a deadend. Plus, said guy doesn’t want anything serious, which is perfectly fine for Chifuyu. But maybe this has gotten a bit out of hand.

Kissing him? Debatable, but no harm in that. Sitting on his lap, trying to suppress his own shakey moans while riding him into oblivion at his, mind you, workplace? Questionable at best. 

They should have gotten home for this, but Chifuyu probably would have lost his courage or whatever brought him to eventually gap the distance between them and try to show this man that he deserves way more than always pleasing others. 

Maybe it’s a naive and foolish thought... and maybe all of this is a big fucking mistake, but he can’t find it in himself to regret it. Not with that gorgeous man grabbing his hips to keep him in place, while he looks up to him with heavy-lidded eyes and a longing that gets deeply under his skin. 

It‘s fundamentally different from the last time they did it. Realer and rawer, with more of the true Kazutora and less of the role he played – and it feels just as amazing.

Kazutora is the first to reach his climax, clinging onto him like a drowning man with deep and heavy thrusts and a low moan on his swollen lips. Chifuyu lets him take the reins and caresses his hair while the man breathes heavily against his sensitive neck and tries to regain his composure, bodies closely intertwined.

When Kazutora leans back enough to lock eyes with him, it‘s impossible to decipher his expression in its entirety, but underneath the heavy veil of lust lies something deeply vulnerable, something tender, something wistful. Kazutora is quick to break the spell though, attacking his lips with another passionate kiss and Chifuyu has barely enough time to get a good hold before he is swiftly maneuvered around to lie on his back.  

He can feel Kazutora withdrawing, leaving him empty and panting for a few tormenting heartbeats, but his lips give a good distraction on his burning body and soon, there are skilled fingers to fill him up again. Instinctively, Chifuyu pushes against the sudden intrusion, eager to find release and when a sinful mouth wraps around the tip of his throbbing cock, he lets out the lewdest sound this place has ever witnessed.

Mimicking the thrusts of his cock with his fingers, he blows Chifuyu into the high heavens in no time, doing unholy things with his tongue and mouth without leaving a single trace behind.

In hindsight it‘s beyond him, really, how they managed to keep all of the furniture clean – but then again, he didn‘t expect Kazutora to have a pack of condoms and a small bottle of lube on hand either. Chifuyu doesn‘t give it too much thought though, considering that his sex life had been kind of nonexistent in the past months and Kazutora seems way more open about this stuff.

After quickly refreshing himself in the bathroom, Chifuyu is eager to leave this place and get a shower at home. He really doesn‘t know how he‘s supposed to get to work next week without remembering immediately what happened on that certain couch and the mere notion sends a wave of heat straight into his cheeks.

Damn...why did he think it was a good idea to start something like this here? And how is he supposed to face Kazutora now without being awkward? Sure, it was just casual sex, but… this is not your usual hookup situation. Nothing about this is usual. It never was.

Chifuyu can‘t really find it in himself to regret it though – which, unfortunately, doesn‘t make things less confusing.

The involuntary source of his chaos is waiting outside, surrounded by a familiar trail of smoke. He seems perfectly calm and gives him a lazy smile. “You good?“ It‘s a casual question, but Chifuyu can tell that he does care about the answer.

The genuine smile forms naturally on his lips and somehow, he‘s immediately a lot calmer. “Sure. How about you?“

Kazutora smirks, but it’s rather gentle than smug. “Yeah. Got nothing to complain about, pretty boy.“ 

They get moving and Chifuyu really has to bite back his smile as he rolls his eyes in fake annoyance. “I told you not to call me that, remember?”

“Didn’t seem to offend you while we did it.” The way he teasingly tilts his head nudges the bell on his earlobe to ring softly. “But fine, I’ll keep it until next time.”

“Who said there’s going to be a next time?” Now Chifuyu is the one smirking playfully and it’s strangely satisfying to see Kazutora being speechless for a second, eyes blown wide in surprise, but an amused chuckle soon falls from his lips and he is back to his smug grin in no time.

“Woha, so you faked your excitement? What a plot twist! Did you read that in one of your mangas?”

Chifuyu can’t help but to fall into bright laughter. Everything feels so natural and easy as if nothing happened or changed between them and a huge wave of relief washes over him.

It’s fine. Just sex between them is fine, he thinks, with brightly flushed cheeks and a heart somersaulting in excitement when he catches sight of a gentle smile on the lips of the man who no longer has to hide behind his mask when they are together.

The rest of the weekend only solidifies his point. They spend it calmly, each doing their daily business, which in Kazutora‘s case means meeting up with Baji and while he gets some stuff for his courses done. In the evening, they just lounge on his couch with a bowl of popcorn and Peke J between them while a trashy action movie, whose plot would easily fit onto the nail of his pinky, flickers across the tv. Kazutora‘s choice.

There‘s no awkward silence or tension. No expectations. Everything flows just naturally, maybe even more than before and Chifuyu catches himself growing even fonder of the man. Which is totally fine. He is content with what they have and just goes with the flow.

Apparently, the direction is forward in Kazutora‘s case.

When Chifuyu takes a look at his phone after his shift on Monday (where he is careful to avoid a certain area of the coffee shop, thank you very much), he is greeted by a message from Baji that throws him into a swirl of different emotions, ranging from from surprise to overflowing joy, dotted with a pinprick of very inappropriate jealousy if you look close enough.

“You got the job?“ Chifuyu blurts out in lieu of a hello as soon as he arrives home, before even slipping out of his shoes. Quickly, he gets rid of his jacket and rushes to the living room, a beaming smile on his face.

As expected, he finds Kazutora at his usual spot, seated on the couch with the sketchbook spread on the table in front of him. His eyes grow wide, change to a forced laid-back smile within a second and he is quick to shrug it off as usual. “No. But I got a different one.“ He throws Chifuyu a cautious side-glance. “How do you know?“

“Baji invited me to celebrate your first job tonight,“ he explains and doesn‘t even try to hide his excitement. “Man, that‘s so cool? You need to tell me everything!“

Kazutora sighs as if he just got asked to help him with a really troublesome taks. “There‘s not much to tell.“

But Chifuyu already knows that they‘ve got a different opinion about that – and he isn‘t the only one.

While Kazutora only gives him the bare minimum, soberly revealing that he got a job for a wrist watch commercial instead of the perfume, Hakkai is a bit more enthusiastic.

“I knew that you‘d make it!“

They’re gathered around a small table at the Revengers, their favorite bar, where the beer tastes like water and the cocktails consist of more sugar than alcohol, but it‘s cheap and you don‘t have to pay extra for a round of pool or darts.

Kazutora, who is crammed in between the wall and Hakkai, only answers with a thin-lipped smile and takes a huge sip of his cocktail. It‘s obvious that he dislikes the attention and Chifuyu isn’t the only one to notice.

“Of course. Tora is an idiot, but he’s amazing.“ Baji, who took the seat opposite to his best friend, gives him shit-eating grin, which is answered with a raised middle finger and a kick against the shin that hits Chifuyu instead. “Shut up, asshole.” 

“Ouch, hey!” It doesn’t really hurt and Kazutora’s response nearly makes him regret that he even reacted to it. Nearly. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to hit on – ” He smirks. “Hit you.” It does, well, something to Chifuyu, but it only takes a second for Kazutora to realize that they aren’t alone and Baji’s raised eyebrows wipe the expression off his face pretty effectively. 

They agreed to show up separately here and try to not act too familiar with each other to avoid unnecessary attention and questions neither of them wants to answer, but that seems to be harder than expected. 

Chifuyu is tempted to return the kick as a reminder to keep it low, slightly cursing Kazutora for the flush of heat on his cheeks, but it became so natural for them to have these playful exchanges over Kazutora’s unabashed flirting that he can hardly be mad at him. This is neither the place nor the time for this, though.

“But yeah. I got lucky or something,” Kazutora quickly mumbles and takes another huge sip of his drink as an attempt to change the topic.

“Hoshino must be really blown away by you. He’s super picky with models, but having him on your side can be a real stepstone!” Hakkai chimes in and gives Kazutora an acknowledging bump with his elbow. 

“Hoshino? Who is this guy?” Chifuyu’s gaze wanders between Hakkai and Kazutora, who didn’t tell him anything about a special dude or something. Which isn’t surprising, but still. 

“One of our bookers in the agency. He has connections to basically everyone important in the scene, but he’s really eccentric. Always just picks a handful of favorites who catch his eye for a while and offers them really unique jobs. He has a thing for niche projects, but it can also be really big stuff. Most clients trust him blindly. It’s the best start you can think of.” 

“Hakkai also worked with him in the past,” Yuzuhua points out with a meaningful glance as if she needs to remind her brother about that. 

“Well, yeah, it was just for a runway show. We didn’t really get in touch, but he’s a pretty cool guy.”

“True. That’s really great for a start,” Mitsuya agrees. While they go on discussing this Hoshino guy a bit more, Chifuyu’s gaze falls back onto Kazutora.

He bravely keeps up a small smile, but his mind seems to be a thousand miles away, fingers tracing absently over a droplet of water on the outer side of his glass. 

Rescue comes in the arrival of Takemichi and Hina. The latter still silences Hakkai on the spot with her mere presence. It’s gotten better with his general shyness around girls, but he still needs some time to adjust. 

Unfortunately, this redirects the spotlight to Chifuyu.

“Chifuyu! What a nice surprise. I didn’t expect to see you two nights out in a row,” his best friend greets him excitedly before plumping down next to him with a sigh.

Chifuyu would really love to let it slide, but the thread is being picked up immediately and he kind of wants to strangle Takemichi for bringing this over on him. 

“And I thought maybe you’d finally introduce that certain someone to us.” Mitsuya chimes in with an amused grin, head resting on his palm. 

They’ve had a similar conversion at the last party and it’s normal for his friends to tease him a bit about his dating life now and then, but with Kazutora in his perivision and Baji right next to him, this easily gets to a very uncomfortable level.

“I told you, there is no certain someone…” he wards it off, lowering his flushing face. Now he is the one seeking distraction in his drink, but it does little to ease his nerves. 

“You sure? You haven’t been this absent since you started your thing with Ryusei. It’s getting kinda conspicuous. Unbelievable enough that a cutie like you is supposed to be single for, what, a year now?” Yuzuha’s gaze is rather piercing than playful as if she tries to pry the answer out of him with her eyes alone.

“It’s called work and college, okay? I just got a lot on my plate.” Which is true, but not the reason for his absence. Shit, why are his friends so attentive anyway? And why does everything he says sound like a lame excuse?

To his great dismay, his so-called reason suddenly seems very interested in the ongoing conversation too, gaze obviously focused on him now, which is the final straw for Chifuyu to finally put a stop to this. 

“Besides, my dating life and ex are not the point here, so can we please go back to the real reason we’re here today?” He nods vaguely into Kazutora’s direction without facing the man who’ll totally be his downfall if this goes on. Maybe he sounds a bit too tense, but fortunately, his friends take the hint. 

They fall into easy laughter and Mitsuya gives him an apologetic pat on the shoulder. “Sorry, Chifuyu. We’d just be really happy for you if there’d be a certain someone.” His grin is playful, but the words are genuine and Mitsuya is a man who never intends to hurt with his actions.

Only Baji remained noticeably silent this whole time, eyes set pensively on his best friend, but Chifuyu tries not to read too much into it. He’s probably just attentive, because he knows about his tiny Kazutora-related crush, but they did nothing to betray themselves. Besides, there’s nothing wrong about their situation anyway. 

…just keeping it secret from Baji is, well, not the best way, but they’ll tell him eventually. 

When they’re not surrounded by his nosy friends who’d read waaaaaaaaay too much into it, that is.

They have a pretty great time. Having a few drinks with his friends and laughing about their dumb jokes is always balm for the soul and even Kazutora seems to relax more and more. It’s nice to see him getting more lively and comfortable here and Chifuyu really tries his best to act normal around him, but catches himself always being drawn back to the man as if there’s some weird magnetic pull between them. 

Whether it’s his laugh or his smile or the way he wraps his lips around the straw of his fruity cocktail and the tipsier Chifuyu gets, the harder it becomes to keep his fantasy at bay. Especially since Kazutora always seems to return his gaze as if he’s looking out for him too, giving him a small smile or wink even (but maybe his mind just made that up) as soon as he notices his attention.

It’s like they have their own little secret conversation going on and Chifuyu is well aware that they’re playing with fire here, but he can hardly keep away from the flame. 

It’s mutual, Chifuyu realizes, as soon as he is on his way home. They agreed to head in different directions after everyone said their goodbye, just to be on the safe side, but the quickly approaching footsteps tell him that a certain someone is eager to catch up to him.

“Did you just run here?” Chifuyu asks as soon as he can see Kazutora in the corner of his eyes, lips twitching in slight amusement. 

“I saw a pretty boy at a bar. Didn’t want to miss him.” Kazutora’s smile is daring as he crosses his arms behind his neck. It resonates with a part of him that Chifuyu wouldn’t label as particularly reasonable. “I thought that maybe he flirted with me, but I’m not sure.”

“I don’t think he did it on purpose, but… maybe he just couldn’t keep his eyes away.”

“Is that so…”

They throw ambiguities at each other like giggling teenagers, always careful to never cross a certain line. It’s ridiculous, the border between flirty and downright silly thin like his composure when Kazutora gives him that certain smirk – but it never feels out of place. Their roaring laughter echoes through the streets and his cheeks are flushed from the liquor in his blood and the joy of fooling around with a good friend (backslash crush) in the most goofy way. 

It’s only when they step over his doorsill that the mood changes drastically. As if they entered a different world, all playfulness seems to vanish on the spot and they are left with nothing but an exchange of a clueless gaze and a room heavy with silent expectations.

No one dares to say a single word, let alone breath, until suddenly they literally crash into each other. Lips collide, hands tug at pieces of clothes, greedy and impetuous as they stumble into the apartment, nearly falling down in the process of kicking their shoes into oblivion.  

Jackets are the first to hit the ground, but there are more clothes to follow, building a messy path of fabric towards the living room. 

There is no hesitation. No holding back. Just two souls brimming with arousal finally able to find some relief in each other. 

Even Kazutora is way too past it to ask his questions at this point, just taking and giving as he pleases for once. They both do, following an invisible script that matches with only a few keywords being spoken. 

They land on his couch, driving away Peke J for good, but Chifuyu can’t find it in himself to be sorry while he is busy losing his goddamn mind. 

They end up doing it not once, but twice, desecrating not only his couch but his shower as well. Chifuyu wants to blame it on the alcohol again, but that was just the match to light a fire that’s been smoldering in the background for the longest of times. 

Equipped with two mugs of hot cocoa, he steps out on the balcony. Maybe not your classical after-sex drink, but he had a sudden craving for something sweet and relaxing. 

The orange glow of a cherry betrays Kazutora right away. Torso leaning over the railing, he lets his gaze wander over the firmament. There lies something wistful in his eyes, something eternally sad and beautiful, but it vanishes as soon as he notices Chifuyu’s presence, making room for an amused gleam. 

“Hot cocoa? Is this a children’s sleepover now?” Kazutora teases, but takes the mug into his free hand.

Chifuyu rolls his eyes, ignoring the faint blush rising into his cheeks. “I just felt like it.” He fills the space next to Kazutora, elbows slightly brushing against each other. Neither of them pulls away. 

“Always full of surprises.”  Kazutora's smile is now more pleased than smug.

It’s insane how they just can go from heaviest panting and moaning to this within a couple of minutes, but it feels just natural. All of this does. 

There was no plan. No prior arrangements. It happened once, did no harm, but didn’t ask for more either. The more just unfolded itself between them on its own over shared secret looks and smiles and dumb flirting and now they’re here, standing side by side on his balcony, enjoying a cup of hot cocoa after having the most shameless sex ever. 

Chifuyu smiles dumbly into his mug, trying not to feel like a shoujo protagonist so much, but damn, he can’t help it. This is just too… pillow-hug worthy, if he were to use a shoujo reference. 

Oh boy. Kazutora really has a way of messing with his brain. Thank god he can’t read his mind – Chifuyu would never have peace again, let alone face the man with his far too pretty smile.

“So. It’s really been a year since you had your last boyfriend?” The mentioned far too pretty smile is now thrown his way, coupled with a curious glint in those equally pretty eyes.

Chifuyu nearly chokes on his cocoa. Yeah. He didn’t see that coming. 

“I guess so,” he admits, not without a hint of wistfulness. 

“Really hard to believe.” 

Chifuyu rolls his eyes to that, but settles on a small smile. “I just want different things than the people I like, I guess.” Or they are off limits from the start, a tiny voice whispers, but Chifuyu shoos it away like Peke J who tries to steal a piece of chicken from his plate; fondly, but with vehemence. This isn’t about Kazutora at all.

“I like the thought of having someone to lean on. Someone who is genuinely interested in me and doesn’t hide our relationship.” A certain bitterness colors his voice. “Or, well, someone who wants to be in a relationship with me to begin with.” With a deep sigh he releases the tinge of resentment in his heart. 

“My ex never really committed to me. But then again, he never said that he wanted to. We were just really shitty when it came to talking things out. Or rather, he never really allowed a serious conversation to begin with.” Another soft sigh falls from his lips. “But I really liked him and thought that he’d choose me too if I just worked hard enough. Which was really dumb of me.”

Something flashes through Kazutora’s eyes that he can’t quite decipher. Regret? His heart clenches slightly at the thought. Or just curiosity? 
But only an instant later it’s gone without a trace and his lips curl into a familiar sly grin. 

“You really read too much shojo manga, huh?” Despite the obvious tease, his golden eyes are soft. 

“Guess I do. But it’s fine.” Chifuyu shrugs and throws him a playful grin. “One day my knight in shining armor will surely come, just wait and see!”

The genuine amusement lighting up Kazutora’s face is worth gold and he has to chuckle at his own stupid comment.

Sharing his truths, his vulnerabilities with Kazutora suddenly comes so easy and with the casual atmosphere between them Chifuyu even feels brave enough to ask, “What about your ex?”

It’s another sensitive topic you shouldn't touch carelessly. He is well aware of that, so Chifuyu is prepared for stonewalling and a low blow that’s meant to hurt. Kazutora, however, surprises him with a bitter smile.

His body is tense and the set of emotions reflecting in his eyes impossible to grasp, but something about it gets deeply under Chifuyu’s skin. 

“He’s a really handsome bastard,” Kazutora reveals with just a hint of self-contempt in his voice, thin, but sharp as a needle. “And my ex-manager. Very cliche. That’s more like your manga, huh?” His smile grows into something playful that Chifuyu can’t buy. 

“What happened?” He cautiously takes another step forward, never sure when the line is crossed, but he just can’t stop now.

Kazutora shrugs it off, which reveals right away that there’s more to this than he will admit. “Not much, actually. We just grew tired of each other. And I had enough of being dependent on someone. So I broke up with him. And now, here I am, trying to make it on my own.” 

Kazutora takes a deep drag of the cigarette he neglected for the past minutes, just to flip it over the railing. Busy ruminating over the new information, Chifuyu doesn’t even care to remind him about using the saucer he diverted for his stubs. 

Something about this clearly doesn’t add up. He can see no obvious lie, but there’s no substance in it either. No contact surface. Just a vague, but plausible image that leaves no room for deeper questions. 

If he didn't already know Kazutora, he might be fooled into thinking there's really nothing more to it. The pieces Chifuyu has collected so far tell a different story though.

One that’s still hidden in the dark for the most part, but he cherishes every glance that is granted to him like a hidden treasure, knowing that this trust is worth more than gold. 

Chapter Text

Kazutora can hardly remember a time in his life when everything was fine. There was always a reason to keep his guard up. Always something to run away from. Always something to stay on edge. 

It’s not that his life is what you’d call successful. He is far away from being okay and his situation is still a mess, but… lately, waking up hasn’t been something to dread; it’s been something to look forward to. 

For the most part, his days are easy, peaceful even. There’s coffee and cigarettes and cat hair and genuine smiles and model castings and dumb jokes and sketches and laughter and, as a little bonus, amazing sex in between. 

It sounds too much like a naive fantasy to be real, but Kazutora rather sees it as a respite. No matter how fucked up your life is, everyone seems to get one once and it’s nice while it lasts.

Well. Nice is the understatement of the century, but he won’t be fooled: This is nothing to keep, but something to remember. 

The expiration date is always somewhere in the back of his mind, written in bright, red letters as a constant reminder to keep moving, but it’s hard, when for once in his life, there’s nothing to run away from.

Not at Chifuyu’s place, that is. The past is still on his heels and Shuji doesn’t tire to remind him, tugging harder at the leash he put around his neck, but he won’t go back. Ever. 

…no matter how nasty it gets.

He counts it as a success that he only got a single message over the course of the past four weeks, but the impact has shaken him to the core.

It’s been a single picture, fitting to be reminder and threat at once, signed with the words: Look what I found, you look so cute like this, tiger 🐯

Kazutora deleted it with the taste of rage and bile in his throat, leaving a faint scratch at Chifuyu’s living room wall where his phone hit the surface. It’s exactly what Shuji wanted to achieve. Get under his skin. Force a reaction out of him and show what he still keeps in his stupid hands, but Kazutora pretended that he didn’t care. 
Deep down, it remained as another stone in his guts though, weighing him down as a reminder that this asshole always loved to keep memories in form of pictures – and his favorite motive has been him, no matter in which angle or position. 

Apart from this little downer and the occasional darkness of his own thoughts, however, things had been going well. Unusually well. Even his modeling bore first fruits and having a few more yen in his pockets, especially since he earned them on his own, felt pretty good. He still had a long way to go, but the upswing was a nice change. Thanks to that Hoshino guy he even got accepted for a pretty big job from a rising label and the promised payment left him breathless for a moment. 

Kazutora doesn’t really trust this guy, since he knows best how this business works behind the shiny curtains, but if things go well, this could be a real stepping stone. He tries not to get his hopes up though. Better be safe than sorry.

“So, three days to go until your big job?” Grinning brightly, Chifuyu pushes a large coffee to go over the counter towards him. He wears a dark red apron that matches the tips of his ears, still colored in a faint shade of pink. It’s a common sight whenever Kazutora enters his workplace to grab a quick coffee. 

It became kind of a habit. Whenever he has an appointment at his agency, he makes a small detour to pay Chifuyu a short visit here afterwards. They’ll have a small chat about nothing important, maybe fall into something that could be called a light, harmless flirt and Kazutora will be amused about the cute way Chifuyu’s face flushes due to certain memories connected to this place. 

Sometimes even Hakkai follows him or Mitsuya or he ends up meeting Kei, hair pulled up into a tight pony tail and nose buried into a book. It’s like they try to involve him into their circle of friends, which is nice but also a little overwhelming. Kazutora isn’t good with people, but no one seems to mind yet. Maybe they just try to be nice for Keisuke’s sake. 

“Yeah,” Kazutora picks up the thread with a self-assured grin. “Hope you already prepared a red carpet for welcoming me back afterwards.” 

Chifuyu answers with easy laughter. “Of course! Red carpet, champagne reception… everything is prepared, just wait and see!”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kazutora smirks and leans over the counter, voice low enough to be only heard by Chifuyu. “So. You got any plans for tonight already…?” He restrains himself from adding pretty boy last minute, but his half-joking flirt still doesn’t fail to hit its target. 

Chifuyu's cheeks flush in a pretty shade of red and he takes a towel to make a throwing gesture at him. “Stop, I’m at work!” he complains with a hissed whisper, quickly turning his head to see if any of his co-workers noticed, but everyone’s busy with their own stuff.

Kazutora chuckles and tilts his head, hearing the soft tingling of his bell. “Is this a yes?”

Chifuyu sighs deeply and slightly shakes his head while he mumbles, “You’re the worst…,” but there’s no heat in his voice and he can’t really suppress the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. “But unfortunately, I’m busy after work. Need to prepare a group project.”

“What a shame. So it’s just me and my roommate's cat tonight,” Kazutora laments dramatically. “You should totally come and see it one day.” The wink he gives Chifuyu is met with bright laughter and he shakes his head a second time. 

“Don’t you dare use Peke J for a pick up line!” he complains playfully, but Kazutora’s smirk only deepens. 

“Only for cute barista college boys.”

Armed with his coffee, he leaves Chifuyu’s workplace with a smile on his lips, but he can’t get rid of a certain grain of disappointment, turning into unease the more he thinks about the implications.

A night alone means a night out. He has no excuses to make.

Kazutora turns the paper cup in his hands, smile turning into a strained lie. He only had a few opportunities in the past weeks where he probably gave up too fast, to be honest, so he totally has to make a move and be serious about it.

You should stop when things are at their best, after all. That way, he won’t fuck it up too badly…

Kazutora picks a high class bar at the lower spectrum this time, but his motivation is settled down at the earth’s core. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at things, he attracts enough attention by his looks alone.

Messy bun, black fingernails, dark turtleneck tank top, tight jeans – his body is being studied like a piece of meat, undressed by countless greedy eyes since the moment he set foot into this place, but that’s what he’s here for, isn’t he? 

Without an ounce of motivation in his bones, he sips on his gin tonic, since doing this fully sober is out of the question today, trying to will his face into an appealing mask. Apparently, his resting bitch face is appealing enough. 

The first guy who approaches him smells like cheap perfume and talks way too much about his car, revealing right away that he doesn’t own much besides this. His bored and unimpressed face offers the stage for asshole number two, who ‘rescues’ him by telling that loser right away that Kazutora is out of his league. A debatable view, but he won’t argue, since the second guy looks a lot more promising. 

It doesn’t even take ten minutes for a hand to squeeze his thigh and when he offers to get him another drink, Kazutora doesn’t refuse, but he insists on an additional glass of water, explaining with a wink that a model needs to stay hydrated for good skin.

“Hey.” 

A third voice disturbs his peace while he waits. One that sounds oddly familiar and it’s an automatism for Kazutora to lift his face in surprise. 

“So it’s really you, after all.”

His tone doesn’t hide his open resentment at all and Kazutora is honestly surprised to see the face of Kuroda here – the first guy who gave him shelter in this town. He’s dressed in an expensive shirt, hair mid-parted and trimmed neatly to reach about half of his ears. He’s looking down on Kazutora the way you’d look at a bug or an ant; disgust towards a living being you deem unworthy of existing. It resembles the look his father used to give him way too fucking much.

“Very brave of you to show your face in front of me again.” Kuroda crushes into his personal space as if he’s entitled to, forcing Kazutora to throw his head back into his neck to keep eye contact. 

“I’m here with someone else,” Kazutora points out and nods towards the empty space in front of him, forcing an easy smile onto his lips, but he’s on alert, carefully calculating his next steps. Kuroda is a man with an ego that’s just as huge as it is fragile and a temper shorter even than his own dignity, which makes him unpredictable. He underestimated him once already, so Kazutora won’t take any risks. 

“I don’t fucking care.” Kuroda raises his chin, eyes narrowed to harsh slits. “You still owe me. So let’s get outside and talk.” It’s not a suggestion but a command

Kazutora notes the rising tension in the air immediately, anger that is about to spill over like lava from an active vulcan, only restrained by the eyes of the other customers.

“Listen – ”

“No, you listen. You’ll get up your bony ass and follow me outside. Now.” Kuroda cuts him off, crossing his plans to settle this quickly.

Biting his lower lip, Kazutora ponders his options, but reality is cruel and harsh as usual. Even if he tried to involve the staff or other guests, they’d never choose his side. No one ever does. He neither has the money nor the character to be in anyone’s favor, so he has no choice but to comply, palms raised in a soothing manner.

“Right, sure, calm down.” His forced smile is met with a cold stare and as he gets up to follow the man outside, Kazutora already plans his escape. Running away has always been his speciality and he owes this asshole no shit. Said asshole, however, firmly slings an arm around his shoulder as if he doesn’t want to let him get away a second time. What may look like an average couple leaving the bar together from the outside has nothing flirty or playful to it and the grip on his shoulder is almost painful. 

On their way to the exit, three men join them after a quick gesture of Kuroda. Kazutora remembers them darkly as so-called friends of this asshole. Guys he keeps around to have someone to brag to. Their presence does nothing to ease his bad gut feeling, but he tries to keep his composure and looks for an opportunity to get away from here as quickly as possible. 

Kuroda guides him outside, heading for a narrow street around the corner, nearly invisible in the dark of the night. It’s mostly used for the dustbins of the adjacent bars and restaurants. 

When they reach the corner, Kazutora knows it’s his chance to escape. He stops abruptly, trying to duck away under Kuroda’s heavy arm, ready to throw a punch if necessary, but the element of surprise isn’t enough to get him out of this.

“Hey!”

Someone grabs his upper arm, pulls him back and before Kazutora can even blink he is shoved against a firm concrete wall, arms secured by the vice-like grip of two losers he surely could still handle if they hadn’t the numbers on their side. The collision is hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and his head hits the wall, leaving a nasty pounding inside like the constant strike of a hammer. 

“I don’t like being fucked with,” Kuroda drawls coolly, plugging a cigarette out of his overly expensive branded etui just to make a show for his stupid audience. It’s a ridiculous sight and if Kazutora weren’t in such a position, he’d roll his eyes or laugh even about his poor attempt at playing the tough guy, but he’s busy fighting against the tight grip around his arms. Which doesn’t get him far. These bastards only increase their efforts to press him against the wall and what they may lack in fighting experience they make up with pure strength. 

It’s not that Kazutora is in good shape either. His gang years are long over, but some hand grips you never forget and unlike these assholes he speaks the language of the streets and violence fluently. So for now, he needs to play along and wait for a moment when their attention isn’t on him anymore…

“Especially by a cheap whore who doesn’t even know how to give a good blow.” Kuroda’s words draw his focus back to him and he closes the distance between them in a way that has Kazutora draw his back further against the wall and grit his teeth in disgust.

From the two weeks he spent with this guy Kazutora learned about his anger issues just as his inability to accept a ‘no’ and he still remembers the nasty bruises on his skin from when he struggled his way out after this asshole came up with his bondage fantasies to literally force his ‘no’ into a ‘yes’.

Cold anger crawls up his throat. He is so damn sick of assholes like him who think they can just toy around with him as they please!

With his best version of a mocking smile, Kazutora shoots back, “Wasn’t much to blow to begin with.”

It’s downright stupid. The way poking into a hornets nest with a stick is stupid, but his little ounce of pride is all he has left and Kazutora won’t endure this without a fight. 

“You little – ” A clumsy fist hits his cheekbone, aimed without any grace or precision, but the pain still explodes on the left side of his face. It’s an all too familiar sensation, leading back to a time he shoved into a dark corner of his mind, but unfortunately, refusing to acknowledge it doesn't magically make it go away.

“You said you’re a model, didn’t you?” Kuroda’s gaze speaks of disdain when he captures his chin to pull his head back into the middle. “I wonder who’d want to pay you if your face is all messed up.” Without a single drag being taken, the cigarette lands on the concrete floor to make room for another fist. This time, Kazutora can’t turn away his face to minimize the damage.  

A pained gasp forces its way out of his lips. His body tries to fight, out of instinct, but there’s no way to escape the next punch. Or the one that follows. 

Gritting his teeth, Kazutora tries to endure it stoically. Breathe through the pain and wait for it to end. It’s by far not the first beating he gets in his life, but probably the most cowardly one. You don’t need any skill when you play dirty like this. 

At least he can get a tiny glimpse of satisfaction in the way Kuroda flexes his fingers in between, indicating that it hurts him a little too to smash his face. What a loser, really. 

Time bleeds into a chaotic mass of pain and strained breathing. Kazutora doesn’t count the punches, but at one point, something seems to break. He isn’t sure if it’s his nose or his hope for a better life. Maybe it’s both.

When it stops, Kuroda is out of breath as if he’s the one who took the fucking beating. Kazutora’s head is spinning, throbbing to the brutal rhythm of the sledgehammer inside his brain, but he tries to keep his focus. Tries to find a way out of this mess. His vision is blurry and there’s warm blood running over his lips to his chin, but the magic of adrenalin keeps him on his feet and the pain at bay for now.

“Get him to his knees.”

Kuroda’s voice is a strange sound in the distance as if he’s being kept underwater, but Kazutora can do nothing but give in to the sudden pressure on his shoulders. Pebbles dig into his shins and knees, but he keeps his head lifted, keeps his focus at that coward of a loser.

“I’ll teach you a fucking lesson. And then we’ll talk about how you give me my money back.” Kuroda’s gaze is cold and withering and Kazutora can tell that this is going to be nothing but a dumb demonstration of power. The pathetic attempt to boost this loser’s ego in front of his loser friends. It’s so predictable, he’s nearly tempted to laugh. It’d be a deranged sound, laced with desperation and his eternal rage towards the world he has been born into. Life is a gift his ass, really.    

Kazutora can already bet what’s coming next, but he’s no damn lap cat resigning to its fate, he’s a fucking tiger, so he’ll show his teeth and fight – literally. 

While Kuroda is getting closer, hands fumbling on his belt, Kazutora quickly turns his head to the left where a firm hand presses his shoulder down. It’s now or never. Blood rushing in his ears, he digs his teeth deeply into the unprotected flesh, guiding all of his strength into the movement. 

There’s a startled cry in pain and Kazutora uses the element of surprise to slam his shoulder against the guy's legs, forcing him to loosen his grip even more. 

Chaos breaks loose. Kazutora doesn’t think about anything, but just acts on instinct, throws punches and kicks like a madman, aiming for nothing but escape.

Without the forced support, Kazutora’s shoulder soon hits the ground and he is quick to roll onto his belly, get onto his knees as a furious footstep meets the back of his hand and crushes bones under the merciless weight of a man.

The pain squeezes the air out of his lungs, but he rushes forward, fights against hands that try to get a grip on him, tug at his hair, his arms, his shoulders like zombies in a horror movie. 

And then he runs. Runs to the soundtrack of enraged voices, shouting stuff like “Fuck!” and “That little piece of shit!” and “Get him!”. Runs despite the overwhelming exhaustion in his head that tells him to close his eyes and just pass out. Runs through the pain, through the burning in his lungs until his legs are weak like twigs and his breathing is nothing but chopped gasps for air. 

The world around him is swaying like a ship in a storm, his body only supported by the cold and firm surface of a streetlamp. He tries to listen for the sound of angry steps or shouts in the distance, hints that give away his pursuers, but it’s hard to hear anything besides the mad beating of his own heart – and even if he wanted to keep running, his legs wouldn’t carry him another inch. 

Gasping, he collapses onto the ground, right hand clinging onto the streetlamp to cushion the fall. Dark dots start to dance in front of his eyes, trying to drag him into the promising embrace of unconsciousness, but Kazutora forces himself to stay awake. He isn’t safe here. The devil knows where he is. He just – fuck, he needs a quick break to gather what’s left of his strength. 

He can’t tell how long he remains like this, leaning miserably against a street lamp in the middle of who the hell knows where, trying to get enough air into his lungs to breathe. The adrenalin in his bloodstream still suppresses the pain a little, but his impaired field of view already tells him that it’s bad. 

Groaning, he forces himself to get up, which earns him a massive vertigo attack, but the street lamp keeps him on his feet. In hindsight, he can barely tell how he makes it to the restroom of the main station, but something inside him remembers that it can’t be far from his location and his phone leads the way. 

The dirty mirror and cold light reveal a devastating sight, reminding him of the horror movie analogy once again. His left eye is swollen shut, explaining his impaired vision. The blood from his battered nose dried, leaving nasty trails of red running over his split lip onto his chin. First shades of blue and violet complete the ugly picture. His left bruised hand doesn't give a better sight, the reddened skin already turning into something blueish and every thought about moving a finger already sends a wave of pain through his arm.

Kazutora can’t tell if anything is broken, but he knows for sure that he needs to do something. Clean his face for a start and then find someone to patch him up. His adult self tells him that a doctor should probably take a look as well, but he needs his puny amount of money to save for his own place, so that’s a no. 

Chifuyu isn’t an option either. He won’t keep him away from his college stuff for something like this, besides, he already did more than enough for him and patching him up after he got a beating doesn’t need to be added to the list. Which leaves only one option. Someone who’d come and get him out of hell itself probably, but asking Keisuke doesn’t sit right with him…

Biting his lower lip, Kazutora briefly thinks about just getting some painkillers and dealing with this on his own, but when he tries to wipe his nose clean, the pain is sharp enough to nearly make him pass out and if he’s honest, he really could use the company of a friend right now.

His best friend… who’d give him more than hell if he ever found out that Kazutora even thought about not asking him for help. The notion nearly pulls the corners of his mouth into a halfhearted smile, but it gives him an even more disturbing look. Even without the blood his face looks like shit. Friendly speaking. 

Fuck. Why does he have to be like this…?

The way to Keisuke's apartment is as arduous as climbing a mountain. With a fever. After running the Tokyo marathon. With each step he takes, the pain in his head seems to get worse and he really doesn’t feel prepared to face Keisuke like this, let alone come up with a plausible story to explain this mess. 

His only hope is that he looks miserable enough to dodge too many questions.

After he hits the bell, Kazutora closes his eyes and counts the seconds in silence, right hand pressed against the house facade for support. The possibility that Keisuke may be out tonight crosses his mind, but life has a little kindness left for him at least. 

His best friend opens the door with a slight frown on his face that turns into utter shock in the blink of an eye.

“Tora?” form his lips, voice rough with an emotion he can’t name. 

“Hey, surprise.” Kazutora tries for a carefree smile, but the wave of pain triggered by the movement rather turns it into a grimace.

“What the fuck – ”

“Yeah, uhm, long story, but I think I might need some help to patch this up.” He tries for another grin and points to his face as if it’s a papercut, which seems to flip a switch.

“Get in.” Keisuke’s face is serious as he reaches out for his shoulder to give him some support and it takes an immense amount of willpower to suppress a flinch. 

Gaze glued to the floor, he allows Keisuke to guide him into the flat, but a new voice has him lifting his head in astonishment.

“Baji…?” 

Kazutora’s heart skips a beat when he meets a pair of oceangreen eyes, staring at him like he is a ghost when they notice him. Chifuyu, who stops in the middle of the hall with his mouth slightly opened, can barely get out his name. 

“Kazu – tora…?” After a few seconds, his confusion turns into blatant concern. “Oh my god, what happened to your face?”

Kazutora wills another weak smile onto his busted lips. “Oh, hey. Didn’t expect to see you here.” Which is the truth and he can’t say that he feels comfortable to show himself to Chifuyu like this, but he is clearly in no condition to demand any claims. 

“Chifuyu. Go and get the first aid kit. It’s underneath the sink in the bathroom.” Keisuke interrupts their weird moment of mutual what-the-fuck and rips Chifuyu out of it right away.

“Sure, right!”

“And you sit down and tell me what happened.” Keisuke presses out as he leads him to the kitchen and adds gentle pressure to get him onto one of his cheap plastic chairs. The strain in his best friend’s voice leaves a faint ache of guilt in Kazutora’s chest.

“It’s pretty stupid, actually,” he tries to buy some time and plays it down with another grin that has him wincing in pain. “I fell down a stair.”

The look Keisuke gives him is downright murderous, but it was worth a shot at least.

“Try again,” Keisuke gets out through gritted teeth and reaches out his hand when Chifuyu appears behind him, with a breathless, “Here,” on his lips. His focus remains on Kazutora the whole time and although he knows that it’s a dick move to roll his eyes and lace his voice in annoyance, he can’t help it. Keisuke’s anger is so much easier to handle than the truth. 

“I accidentally got into a bar fight. You happy now?” 

The gloomy shadow that flashes over Keisuke’s face is answer enough, but Chifuyu, that cute and innocent guy, doesn’t even think about digging deeper into this. It’s because, unlike Kei, he doesn’t know about the depths of his darkness.

“You got into a fight?” he repeats, clearly shocked and Kazutora doesn’t know if he should be thankful about his presence or curse it. 

“Turn your face,” Keisuke orders him gruffly, delaying his cross examination in favor of getting a better look at the damage now. Kazutora complies and winces quietly when Keisuke briefly touches his cheekbone. 

“Get me some ice out of the freezer, Chifuyu.”

“Of course!”

Keisuke rips open the first aid kit as if it’s to blame for all the evil in the world and roughly gets out a blister pack of painkillers. “And a glass of water.”

“On it!”

Gritting his teeth again, Keisuke carefully examines his face without daring to touch a single spot. While Kazutora tries his best to swallow down the white pill without making too much of a face, Keisuke leans back with a shake of his head, arms crossed firmly in front of his chest.

“Screw this, we’re going to the hospital.” He nods towards Chifuyu. “Give him the ice for his face.” With a frown and a brief glance at his hands, he then adds, “And some more for his hand.”

Kazutora feels his heart sinking. “What? No. It’s really not that bad.” He tries his best to play it down, but accepts the ice Chifuyu hands him. As he presses it to his swollen face, an involuntary hiss escapes his lips.

“Have you taken a look at your fucking face?”

“It looks worse than it is. Just patch me up a bit and I’ll handle the rest with sleep and more painkillers.”

Keisuke turns to Chifuyu instead of arguing with him, face serious in a way he has barely seen before. “Stay with him while I pack my stuff. And call me, if he tries something funny.”

“Tch. Very funny,” Kazutora bites back, tasting the bitterness of his tone on the tip of his tongue. “I told you it’s fine. So give it a rest, okay?”

“Give it a rest?” Keisuke repeats, exasperation nearly turning it into a yell.

“Yes, give it a fucking rest!” he snaps like he always does when backed into a corner. “You know what? Just forget about it.” 

Deep down Kazutora knows that he won’t make it far, but he forces his exhausted body to get up anyway. Another wave of pain explodes in his head and the world around him is nothing but a blur of colors, but right now he doesn’t fucking care. 

“Kazutora – ” Chifuyu’s concerned voice is the first that cuts through the air, but before he can even make an attempt to stop him, Keisuke’s hands are on his shoulders to guide him back to the chair. It’s remarkable, really, how someone can be so gentle while exploding with rage. 

“What’s your fucking deal?” he hisses, hands a relentless weight on his shoulders and although he turns his head, turns his gaze away, Kazutora can’t escape those eyes that know him better than anyone else on this godforsaken planet.

He presses his lips into a thin line, swallows his last ounces of pride and spits the truth out like a nasty secret.

“I can’t pay for a stupid doctor, okay?” Kazutora grits his teeth despite the fucking pain and feels the familiar sensation of shame climbing up his spine into his swollen cheeks.

“What? You don’t need to pay! Your health insurance – ” Chifuyu tries to objects weakly, but Keisuke hits the nail right away. 

“You don’t have one,” he concludes, giving him a calculating stare that Kazutora can’t stand. He can’t stand any of this. Neither Keisuke, nor Chifuyu, nor any of this stupid shit. 

Refusing to acknowledge either of them, he keeps his head turned away, gaze set onto Keisuke’s damn kitchen wall and waits for what is to come, angry at the whole damn world, but mostly at his own fucking self. 

It’s been a mistake to come here. He should have dealt with this on his own like he always does. But maybe, there’s also a little, a weak part inside that can find some joy in the fact that someone actually gives a damn about him. When Keisuke speaks again, however, it’s really hard to appreciate it.

“What the fuck have you been doing these past weeks?” It sounds rather like an accusation than a question and Kazutora stoically keeps his silence. “You told me you’re living in a hotel room and now you don’t even have money to pay a fucking doctor?”

“...he’s been living with me.” Chifuyu’s voice is quiet, sheepish even, but breaks the silence like a stone smashing a window. A stone that settles in his guts like another huge chunk to feel guilty about.

“It’s because I tricked Chifuyu into giving me shelter for free.” It gets off his lips as easily as all his other lies, but at least it‘s for a good cause this time – if Chifuyu wouldn’t rain on his parade right away.

“What? No! That’s totally not what happened!”

“We’ll talk about this later.” Keisuke cuts off the topic in a tone that doesn’t allow any arguing. “ After we brought you to a fucking hospital.”

“But I can’t afford – ”

“Shut up already! I’m going to pay or whatever, so wait here until I get my stuff and stop being a pain in my ass, Kazutora!”

It’s enough to silence him. Gaze darting to the floor, Kazutora bites his maltreated lip until the taste of new blood is on the tip of his tongue. The urge to run away and never look back just to stop being a fucking problem for everyone around him has him clenching his unscathed fingers into a useless fist. He hates this so fucking much. But above all, he hates himself for being the way he is. 

“I’m sorry…” Chifuyu sounds like he really means it and Kazutora can imagine his worry-stricken face perfectly, but he can’t bring himself to look up to him. All he wants to do is bury himself six feet underground and never see the light of day again. 

Still, he replies, “You don’t have to,” voice hollow like his soul and although he can feel Chifuyu’s gaze on him, he doesn’t say another word. 

Kazutora presses the ice-pack harder against his bruised face, trying to kill the voices in his head with pain, until warm fingers wrap around his wrist and force him to loosen the pressure. Cautiously, he lifts his head to meet his best friend’s determined stare and doesn’t complain when Keisuke helps him to get up. He doesn’t feel like he can deny him anything right now.

“I’m going to grab my jacket…” Chifuyu mumbles in the background, to which Keisuke just hums, without taking his eyes off him. His intense gaze is unsettling and Kazutora swallows, trying to brace himself for another scolding or whatever he is going to throw at him when he says his name.

“Kazutora.” Keisuke sighs deeply, swallowing a ton of unspoken emotions before he pulls him into a heartfelt hug that tightens his throat. “Never stop coming to me with stuff like this, okay?” His voice is low and rough, the words only meant to be heard by him. “I just – I want you to be fucking save, idiot.”

Gently, he makes a mess out of his hair and Kazutora is grateful that Keisuke doesn’t see the pathetic glistening of disbelief in his eyes, because even after all this time it’s hard for him to imagine that someone like this would actually stick to him. 

Although he should know better by now.

Chapter Text

Chifuyu is a mess. 

Trapped in a real hurricane of emotions, he’s sitting in the waiting compartment of the emergency department like a child that’s been caught in the act of stealing sweets at the supermarket. His partner in crime is currently being patched up by a doctor and since he left, the tension in the room grew into something unbearable. 

He is still in some kind of shock about the whole incident. Kazutora’s brutally beaten face, his tense conversation with Baji, the way he acted like a cornered animal the whole time… it felt like witnessing something that’s not meant for his eyes, but the images are literally burned into his retina. 

There was so much going on, so many things he didn’t understand, but giving Kazutora the medical care he needed was the number one priority. For all of them.

But now, without Kazutora taking up the space between them and maintaining a truce with his mere presence, Chifuyu feels the full weight of Baji’s disapproval on his shoulders; and disapproval is a very nice way of saying that he is pissed to the max. 

Arms crossed in front of his chest, he stares daggers at the treatment room’s door and Chifuyu can barely even lift his head to look at him. 

This was, hands down, the worst possible way to tell him about his living situation with Kazutora, but keeping Baji in the dark would have only made things worse. The mere notion gives him the creeps and Chifuyu already feels guilty enough.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbles quietly into the empty space between them when he can’t bear the tension anymore. This is clearly not how he imagined his evening to play out when he agreed last minute to help Baji with some college stuff.

Baji presses his lips tightly together and lets out a deep exhale through his nose. His gloomy eyes remain focused on the doctor’s office and it’s obvious how much he fights to keep his cool when he grumbles, “About what exactly?”

Chifuyu swallows dry, tasting the bitterness of guilt on his tongue as he lowers his head. “About not telling you sooner that – Kazutora lived with me for these past weeks. We wanted to, but – somehow, I didn’t know how. It’s stupid, but… I was a little embarrassed, to be honest. And I didn’t know what you’d think about it since he’s your best friend and everything, but I couldn’t let him down either.” A strained smile appears on Chifuyu’s lips. “It’s not like he persuaded me into this or anything though. It was rather the other way around…” 

Chifuyu fumbles at the edges of a small sticker attached to the metallic armrest of his chair, left by another nervous soul. It’s one of the stickers you can find on an apple or a banana. 

“He asked me in the middle of the night about help for his comp card, without even telling me that he’s literally standing in front of my door. Then he said something about mold in his hotel room. Actually, he just wanted to stay for one night, but I told him he can stay as long as he wants to. I really didn’t mind and it’s nice to have someone looking out for Peke J a bit. But Kazutora insisted on giving me something in return…” Chifuyu swallows down the nasty memory that seeps into his mind like heavy oil leaking into the sea. “So I came up with something like a deal. He takes care of Peke J while I’m at work and helps a bit with housekeeping in exchange for staying at my place. Just to make this easier for him!” Chifuyu quickly adds. “I’d have never asked to get something in return, it’s natural for me to help him, especially since he is your best friend… but Kazutora seemed to have a hard time accepting this.” 

After the words gush out of his mouth like a waterfall, Chifuyu forces himself to lift his gaze, smile apologetic, nearly pleading. “Don’t be mad at him, please. It was basically my idea, and I don't know why he just wanted to tell you otherwise. Or why he came to me and not you in the first place. There’s still so much I don’t understand, but… I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm.”

Baji releases a snort of discontentment and shifts his crossed arms into an even more deprecating position, but there’s something rough in his harsh voice. “You’re both giving me a freaking headache with your stupid it’s-my-fault-agenda. How old are you? Twelve?” He twists his lips in annoyance. “You’re adults, you can do whatever the fuck you want. But it pisses me off that you’re doing things behind my back. Just talk to me. It’s not like I’m ripping anyone’s head off.” His gritted teeth appear to tell a different story, but Chifuyu sinks more into his uncomfortable chair, knowing perfectly well that he’s right. 

“I expect Kazutora to be all secretive and avoiding, yeah, same old story, heard it a thousand times, but you? I thought you’d trust me more, Chifuyu.”

Okay, ouch. Target hit. With a hundred percent accuracy. 
It’s more than deserved, but doesn’t make it less painful. Quite the contrary.

Chifuyu lowers his head even more, fingers clenching in his lap. “I’m sorry. I do trust you. It’s just…” He bites his lips as a familiar heat begins to rush right into his cheeks. “You saw right through me with my stupid little crush, so I kind of tried to avoid talking about Kazutora to you. And I also didn’t want Kazutora to get into trouble. I know that you didn’t like the way he talked to me when you introduced us…” 

“Well, sorry for trying to spare you a heartbreak!” 

Baji’s voice roars through the waiting area like a whiplash and Chifuyu is sure that some people give them some hidden or not so hidden glances, which makes him want to disappear into a hole in the floor even more. However, Baji’s anger and disappointment are very understandable and he really wishes he had handled things differently, but he won’t shy away from the consequences. 

Instead of releasing another shout, the man beside him lets out a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know how to deal with this situation myself, okay?” His tone is still colored in anger, but there’s more hidden underneath the surface; frustration, brushing the line to desperation and worry. 
“Kazutora still keeps his silence about what actually happened, but I can tell it’s been a massive shitshow and I hate how much he still tries to keep me at distance. It’s as if he doesn’t want to rely on me a single fucking bit, when all I want to do is help him to get out of whatever shit he maneuvered himself into. But he just doesn’t let me and it pisses me off so much!” The last sentence is a hiss through gritted teeth and his next words are drenched in bleak bitterness. 
“Congratulations if he opens up to you, but I hate being treated like the damn villain here. I’m not the one who treated him like shit! But he acts as if he needs to avoid me like the plague and I’m really tired of this bullshit.” 

It’s obvious how much it bothers him, although Baji tries to hide behind his anger, but above all, he seems deeply hurt.

Compassion brings an understanding smile to Chifuyu’s lips and his tone is soft like a blanket wrapped around the shoulders when he says, “I don’t know him like you do, but I think it’s because he cares so much about you. I always feel like he doesn’t want to be a burden to anyone… especially you.”

“Yeah, I know that, “ Baji replies darkly. “But it still sucks.”

The silence afterwards feels like something he shouldn’t break, but the quick side-glance he gets from Baji after a couple of minutes tells him that there is more to come. Chifuyu braces himself, ready to take it without any complaints, but the blatant disappointment shimmering through the words is really hard to bear.  

“Okay, listen. I know that you mean no harm and in a way I’m glad that you took care of him, Chifuyu. But right now I’m just pissed at both of you for thinking so little of me.” Baji clenches his fists and teeth, before pressing out, “But most of all, I’m pissed about the bastards who did this to him! I swear to god, if I ever find out who's behind this – ”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but Chifuyu can imagine the scenario bright and clear and something tells him that Kazutora will keep quiet about this for the rest of his life, but he totally gets it. Baji’s unbridled rage is an amplified reflection of his own emotions and he wants nothing more but to give the culprits the penalty they deserve, but most of all, he just wants Kazutora to be okay. 

That isn’t too much to ask, is it?

They wait in silence for another fifteen minutes, with Baji burning holes into the door with his gaze and Chifuyu sunken down on his chair into a conscience-stricken, miserable mess.

It feels like an agonizing eternity, but when Kazutora’s chafed face appears in the doorframe, his heart sinks immediately and his focus completely shifts to him and him alone.

He looks downright terrible. There is no reason to sugarcoat it. Even patched up, his face still is a swollen disaster and the bandage around his bruised hand probably doesn’t do much good either.

His golden eyes scan the room quickly as if he’s on the run, teeth chewing on his lower lip and Chifuyu can tell by the nervous look on his face that he briefly thinks about fleeing from the situation, but he follows the gesture of the middle aged doctor instead, who points towards the reception desk. 

Head hung low, Kazutora nods and avoids looking into their general direction at all cost. The hand he reaches into the inside of his jacket shakes slightly and Baji is on feet before he can even reveal the first yen note. 

Chifuyu follows with some hesitation and a big lump in his throat. He still feels a little out of place, but wants to offer his help as well if he can and honestly, he doesn’t want to leave neither Baji nor Kazutora alone with this. 

“I pay.” Baji clarifies towards the nurses at the reception table, blocking Kazutora from their view. “How much do you need?”

The way Kazutora bites his lips looks painful, but whatever lingers on the tip of his tongue, he keeps it in. Head lowered, he stands behind Baji like a guilty child being covered by their parents for their mischief.  

It’s a sorry sight, but Chifuyu remains quietly in the background. He can imagine that Kazutora feels bad enough already and his presence is rather another weight than soothing. Another pair of eyes to judge him, even though Chifuyu never would.

“I’ll pay you back.” Kazutora promises without looking up as soon as Baji grabs the receipt from the desk, rummaging around in the pockets of his jacket. “I only have a few yen with me, but I have more in my suitc – ”

“Shut up,” Baji grumbles and crushes the piece of paper in his fist as if it’s the source of all evil, before throwing it into the trash can next to the automatic exit door. 

Kazutora purses his lips and gives Baji a fleeting glance, before he subtly tries to shove a few bills into the pockets of his jacket.

“I told you I don’t want it!” Baji snaps and grabs Kazutora’s wrist, who gives him a challenging glare and defiantly wriggles himself free.

“But you paid a little fortune!” 

“I don’t fucking care! Don’t you get it? I don’t care about money – I care about you staying out of trouble and being safe for once in your fucking life!”

“It’s not like I chose to get a beating!”

“No, but you chose to not rely on me and pull Chifuyu into your mess behind my back!”

They are yelling at each other across the whole parking lot in front of the hospital and up till now Chifuyu could do nothing but watch and stare as disaster unfolds in front of his widened eyes, but hearing his own name makes him snap out of it. 

“No, I told you, he didn’t – ” His, admittedly, poor attempt to intervene is quickly drowned out by Kazutora’s angry voice. 

“Sorry for trying to be a friend for you instead of a fucking burden for once in my life!”

It echoes through the night air like a confession and seems to take the wind out of Baji’s sails. Surprise is taking the angered gleam out of his eyes, while Kazutora bites his lips, clearly regretting what he just revealed. 

It seems to be an automatism for his flight instinct to kick in. Quickly he turns away, tries to flee from the situation, but wavers notably during the first steps he takes.  

“Tora!”

“Kazutora!”

They both catch up to him in the blink of an eye, with Baji taking the lead. He is the first to grab Kazutora’s arm for support, voice rough with worry. “Shit, did they even check you properly?”

“Yes,” Kazutora presses out defensively, teeth gritten in pain or frustration – Chifuyu can’t really tell. “My nose is just a little cracked and my hand got a small contusion, but nothing’s broken. I’m just tired.” 

Something tells Chifuyu that he plays it down and he can imagine the doctor trying to persuade Kazutora into staying overnight at the hospital, just to be safe – but he can imagine even better how he refused and just tried to get out as quickly as possible. 

Keeping these thoughts to himself, Chifuyu quietly suggests, “I think we should bring him home. Kazutora looks like he really needs some rest…” 

Lips pressed tightly together, Baji agrees. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s bring him – ” He clenches his teeth in mild frustration. “To your place.” 

It sounds like an accusation or maybe it’s just Chifuyu’s guilty conscience striking again, but the bitterness in Baji’s tone has him lowering his head in shame as he helps to guide Kazutora to the nearest taxi.

It’s a tense ride and the only words being spoken are between the driver and Baji, who puts on his seatbelt in the most pissed manner Chifuyu has ever witnessed. 
He still can’t bring himself to really face Baji, so he busies himself with keeping his focus on Kazutora instead, who is trapped between them with his head lowered and his hands clenched in his lap. The two of them must be a pretty pathetic sight and he doesn’t even want to imagine how infinitely worse Kazutora must feel right now.
When they get out of the car, it’s like following a disappointed father home who just got his sons back from a police questioning. At least Chifuyu manages to pay for the ride before Baji can get out his purse, but that doesn’t really do much to soothe his guilty conscience. 

Without sparing them a single word, Baji is quick to appear at Kazutora’s side again to give him some support and although he doesn’t look really comfortable, Kazutora doesn’t dare to refuse. Chifuyu wouldn’t either in his place.

In heavy silence, he walks close behind the pair and awkwardly shoves himself past them when they reach the front door. Never before did he feel so judged while putting the key into the lock.

Not even Peke J, who greets them as soon as they cross the door step, manages to lift the mood. Usually, Baji would be all grinning and excited, spoiling his cat with treats, pats on the head and words of praise, but right now he barely pays him any attention.

“Hey, Peke J…,“ Chifuyu mumbles, the strained smile on his lips rather a product of his nervousness.  

“Where can I bring him?“ Baji grumbles in the background, tone colored in impatience.

“The couch…“

Chifuyu takes the lead and opens the door for Baji and Kazutora to enter. It feels like showing the scene of a crime and he is glad that at least there are no signs of more intimate activities visible. The mere thought sends a wave of heat into his cheeks, which is not only inappropriate, but also adds another layer of guilt. It’s another secret that has yet to be revealed, but right now surely isn’t the right time for that.

He watches in silence how Baji guides Kazutora onto his current sleeping place and feels a little awkward. Maybe it’s his own uncomfortableness or the weight of all the unspoken words between them, but he feels the sudden urge to give them some space.

“I’m gonna prepare some tea,” Chifuyu announces quietly and tries to give Kazutora an encouraging smile, whose gaze is still glued to the clenched fingers in his lap. It goes unseen and Baji also doesn’t really take any notice of him, so he just slips into the kitchen, trying to swallow down the huge lump in his throat. Unsuccessfully. 

Peke J follows him unbothered, demanding attention and food as usual, which Chifuyu gladly takes as a distraction after putting the water on to boil. Preparing tea, however, is a matter of a few minutes and although he really takes his time, he can’t prolong this forever. 

Armed with a small tray carrying three steaming mugs, which will probably go completely unattended, and a few cans of beer, just in case, Chifuyu steps towards the door, but pauses immediately when he hears some pieces of the ongoing conversation inside his living room.

“...so fucking pissed right now! But don’t you dare go thinking that you’re a burden to me Tora.”

After a meaningful pause, Baji adds, “I’m serious. Don’t you dare.”

“...right.” The hollow tone of Kazutora’s voice tells that he doesn’t really mean it and Chifuyu is sure that he still can’t bring himself to lift his head and look Baji in the eye.

A heavy sigh escapes Baji’s lips. "Get some rest. We’ll talk later or something.” 

Chifuyu waits two hectic heartbeats, before he dares to enter the room. The sight in front of him has his heart clenching in compassion. Just like he imagined, Kazutora sits on the couch like a picture of misery, shoulders slumped down, expression hidden behind a veil of hair. Baji, who towers in front of him, looks just as overextended as Chifuyu feels. 

“You wanna stay for a drink…?” Chifuyu carefully chimes in, trying for another smile that doesn’t get close to a cheerful expression as he takes a few steps into the room. “I prepared tea – and I also have beer.”

“Not interested.” Baji wards it off immediately, already rushing towards the door. “See you around. And tell me if something happens to him.” He gestures vaguely into Kazutora’s direction who just stares numbly at the ground and looks like he just wants to dig a hole and lay down inside. 

“Sure…” Chifuyu promises, also averting his gaze to the side. Teeth maltreating his lower lip, he moves another apology around in his mouth like a marble until he finally musters the courage to call his name.

“Baji?” The man in question pauses, giving him a stern gaze over his shoulder that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine. “I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah. I figured.” 

With that he leaves without another word or look back and when the entrance door slams shut, both of them flinch due to the piercing sound of utter disappointment. 

They really fucked this up.

After some moments of drowning in his guilty conscience, he turns to Kazutora, expression softening as if he’s facing a wounded stray. 

“Hey… how d’you feel?” Chifuyu places the tray on the table and nods towards the steaming mugs. “You want tea?” When he shifts his gaze to Kazutora, he realizes that his guest can barely drink out of a mug with his swollen lips. Not without a certain amount of pain, that is. The notion is another knot tightening in his stomach.

“Amazing. Best day ever.” His hollow tone lacks the sarcasm his words imply.

“Sorry. Dumb question, I know…” Chifuyu mumbles, torn between the urge to wrap his arms around the slumped down figure on his couch and tell him that everything’s going to be okay and the worry of hurting him in the process. He has only seen his beaten face, but what if there’s more, hidden underneath his dirt-stained clothes…? 

Chifuyu digs his teeth deeper into his lower-lip, before putting the attempt of a reassuring smile onto his lips. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes and give you a shower. Then, you can sleep and tomorrow everything will look different, right?” It sounds like a pretty lame attempt to try and give the glimpse of something positive into this and all Kazutora replies with is an indifferent glance, but to his defense: Chifuyu has never dealt with something like this before and he really just tries to help Kazutora to feel a little better. 

Shit… he doesn’t even want to imagine what he’s going through right now.

Caught in a sensation of overwhelming pity, he prepares the couch with pillows and blankets while Kazutora is in the shower. It didn’t surprise him that he refused to get any help, but Chifuyu listens carefully for any noise of distress or pain. He also noticed that short side-glance Kazutora gave the door leading to the hallway before he headed for the bathroom, indicating that the thought of flight still is present in his mind. But to his great relief, he didn’t give in to it. 

When he reappears in the living room eventually, clad in a loose shirt and sleeping shorts, Chifuyu swallows. The nasty grazes near his elbows stick out on his pale skin like ink on a blank paper and his knees don’t reveal a better sight. 

Trying not to stare too much, Chifuyu quickly turns his gaze to the couch, but his throat is dry like a sandpit and his heart aches with every heavy beat it takes.

“I prepared everything in the meantime…”

“Thanks.”

Kazutora walks past him, a hollow and blank expression on his face, as if he is nothing more than a mere shell. It’s a heart-clenching sight and he would rather wish for defensive words spoken in anger than this image of total resignation. 

“Say… do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” Chifuyu utters the next thought that crosses his mind, putting all of his work to build a cozy sleeping place for Kazutora to shame. “Just so I can keep an eye on you if you start to feel worse…” It’s just a little addition to give rational reason to it, but honestly, Chifuyu doesn’t want to leave him alone like this. Especially not surrounded by the darkness of night, when thoughts of self-loathing and disaster scream the loudest. 

“Don’t worry. It’s alright.” Kazutora wards it off, which doesn’t come unexpected, and folds back the blanket.

“It’s not.”

Frowning, Kazuotra pauses in his movement. It’s the first time since forever that he actually looks at him, obviously trying to figure out the meaning behind his determined objections. 

“You getting beaten up like that…it’s not alright.” Chifuyu explains quietly, gesturing towards Kazutora’s pretty face that’s barely recognizable with the huge swelling and bruises. 

“I survived worse than that.”

There’s no edge or bitterness in his voice. To him, it’s just stating a sober fact, while Chifuyu’s stomach drops immediately. The memory of a past conversation sneaks into his mind, revealing the glimpse of a violent truth, a violent childhood that’s still hard to swallow, but to Kazutora it’s not just something that happened to someone else. It’s his own story.

“Kazutora…,” he says softly, trying to keep his own emotion out of his voice. “Can I give you a hug?”

The question seems to catch him totally off guard. Golden eyes grow wide, lose their emptiness for the friction of a second, until they dart to the side. Kazutora’s answer is a shrug, accompanied by something like a tiny and quick nod that’s barely perceptible. It’s a reaction full of contradictions, full of uncertainties, but Chifuyu thinks he gets the message. 

Cautiously he gets closer, leaving enough room to retreat, but Kazutora doesn’t. Instead, he allows Chifuyu to carefully wrap his arms around his slim body and try to make him understand what he can’t form into words. Give him warmth. Compassion. Safety. Things that probably had little room in his life and Chifuyu realizes that he needs this embrace just as much as Kazutora does.

“I’m so sorry…,” he whispers against his chest, quietly enough to not be heard and wishes that he could do something more, anything to make things better, but he can neither change the past nor take his pain away. All he can do is stay at his side and try to hold together what seems to fall apart any second.

Kazutora returns the gesture weakly, but that he even does means a lot and when Chifuyu tightens the hug a little, he can feel Kazutora sink a little more into the embrace as well. 

They don’t share a single word. Neither talk about Baji, nor the circumstances about what happened that night, but it’s fine that way. This shared moment doesn’t need anything else and their silence is an understanding one.

When they part after a tiny eternity, Kazutora avoids his gaze, but his expression is a little softer; a little sadder as well, but it’s way better than the dull emptiness from before.  

It’s obvious that he wants some time alone, some time to collect his thoughts and although Chifuyu doesn’t feel like leaving him like this, he gets it. It’s been a rough night and he has a lot to process as well, but a small part inside really wishes he would have taken his offer to sleep at his side tonight. 

With a gentle smile, Chifuyu wishes him goodnight and retreats quietly into his bedroom, head heavy and a thousand thoughts on his mind. Different scenes of the night replay in his head over and over again, like a broken movie he can’t stop and he always lands on the image of Kazutora lying alone in the dark, convincing himself that he’s nothing but a burden for everyone around him. 

The words still ring in his ears like a shattering echo and it takes him something like half an hour before he gives in his inner urge to return into the living room.

Armed with two blankets stuffed underneath his arms and a huge pillow, Chifuyu quietly sneaks back into the dark room. 

To his great relief, Kazutora is fast asleep and he nearly looks peaceful like this – if it weren’t for the nasty bruises, distorting the picture right away. Huddled together on the couch, he looks so small, so terribly vulnerable and Chifuyu wants to do nothing more but take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. Wrap his arms around the man to keep him safe. 

“You’re not a burden,” he wants to whisper into his ear, into his heart, until he understands. Support what Baji tried to tell him. Speak up against the voices in his own head.

Instead, he spreads out one of his blankets on the floor and adds another one to cushion the hard surface a bit more. It’s far from comfortable, but he gave up on getting much sleep tonight the second Kazutora showed up at Baji’s door step. 

It’s fine though. 

He’s content to just keep some company with the man who has so many sad secrets to hide that Chifuyu doesn’t even know how he carries this burden on his shoulders all alone, never complaining, just trying to get through.

But if he is allowed to sometimes lessen the weight even for an instant only, he’s more than glad to do so.

Chapter Text

“What the hell? How did you manage to do that to your pretty face?”

Hoshino looks at him like a disappointed mother would look at the expensive, mud-stained outfit she bought proudly for her precious son. Reaching out a hand to cup his chin, he turns Kazutora’s head left to right to examine the damage, disapproval written all over his face. He wears his dark hair into a slicked back ponytail, perfectly trimmed beard framing his chin and jaw. Every slim finger is decorated with a heavy ring, matching the silver shining suit he wears, embroidered with a complicated, victorian pattern. 

Kazutora feels more like a damaged object than a human being. To the model agent, he probably is.

“I told you makeup can’t fix this…” Kazutora mumbles defensively. He still doesn’t know why Hoshino insisted for him to come to the agency, forcing him to face another walk of shame. Making this call to cancel his highly anticipated job was devastating enough and he really didn’t need to see that raw display of disappointment to know that he’s a failure. He’s been told all his life, so he got that by now. 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Tightening his jaw, Hoshino releases him and leans back with a deep sigh. The way he crosses his arm underlines his annoyance and Kazutora already prepares for the mental blow that is to come. “Canceling that job is a disaster. I hope you know about the struggles you put me through with this.” 

Tight-lipped, Kazutora nods, avoiding to look at the man who shakes his head in disapproval. 

“I can’t find you a job like this, obviously. Go home and make sure to fix this as quickly as possible.”

Another nod. Another pause where he waits for the blow to finally come. 

“You’re lucky that you’ve got such a pretty face. It’d be a waste to not make use of it, but that mustn’t happen again. Understood?”

Cautiously, Kazutora sends his gaze to Hoshino, who gives him a stern look, but his words don’t really match his expectations. 

“You’re not kicking me out?” he finally voices what’s been on his mind the second he entered the model agency. 

“I’d be a fool to kick you out and allow someone else to make you big.” The smile Hoshino shows is brimming with grim determination. “Now take care and return to me when I can present you to our clients again.” He gives his shoulder a short squeeze, which is strangely reassuring and adds with an amused chuckle, “And make sure to stay away from staircases.”

Head lowered, Kazutora gives him a curt nod and a quick, “Yes,” eager to get out of here as quickly as possible, before Hoshino can rethink his decision. All he needs now is some fresh air and a cigarette to get a grip on his growing tension.

It’s beyond him why they decide to keep him after fucking up so royaly, but he surely won’t complain. He’s going to need all the money he can get his hands on, now more than ever. 

Keisuke may have refused to take his money at the hospital, but he’s determined to pay him back anyway. Plus, he can’t stay with Chifuyu forever – especially after that hell of an evening. 

Waking up in the middle of the night to that peacefully sleeping face on the floor next to him caught him totally off guard and although it filled his chest with warmth, with gratitude, with a certain comfort even, he couldn’t ignore the deep ache of guilt that followed close by. 

But before thinking about what to do with Chifuyu, he needs to deal with his best friend…

Kazutora is well aware that they need to talk, despite his inner urge to just run away and never show his face in front of him again, but that would be the last nail to the coffin of their friendship – and he can’t lose Kei. Not like this. 

Armed with a six pack of beer and a huge serving of Yakisoba, he makes his way to the pet shop Keisuke works at. It’s a puny peace-offering, but at least it’s something… that’s what he tries to tell himself, but Kazutora is well aware that it needs more than a drink and a meal to make up for this. 

Showing up during his work time isn’t the best move either and maybe a little part deep inside hopes that Kei is too busy to have that conversation now, but the longer he waits, the worse things will get. 

When he enters, his presence is noticed immediately by an older, friendly man behind the counter with a warm, “Welcome,”. 
Kazutora guesses that this is the owner of the shop and he gives the man a curt nod, careful to quickly turn away his bruised face. The beer feels a little out of place now and somehow he is glad that it’s hidden safely inside his plastic bag. Usually, he wouldn’t really care, but for Keisuke’s sake he does.

With a huge lump blocking his throat, he wanders through the shelves like a thief, nervous about every unexpected sound. When he spots a familiar silhouette in the distance, dressed in a navy blue apron and hair pulled into a tight ponytail, he is very tempted to turn at his heels and storm out of the shop. Instead, he stands there frozen in place and watches how his best friend throws fish food into an aquarium.

Seconds pass in silence, until his inner preassure to finally fucking do something becomes unbearbale enough to have him utter a quiet, “Hey…”

Keisuke doesn’t turn around to give him his gruff answer, which indicates that he did notice his presence all along. “I’m at work.”

A little helpless, Kazutora opens his mouth, just to close it again. Neither of his words seem good enough, but he tries anyway. “I know. I just wanted to – ” Eyes directed towards the worn linoleum floor, he shakes his head. “No, you’re right. It was dumb of me to come here.”

He’s about to turn away, run away, like he always does, but Keisuke’s rough voice forces him to a halt. 

“Wait.” A deep sigh crosses his lips, resembling a very tired parent. “Give me five minutes. I’ll meet you outside.”

“Right. Thanks.” Kazutora gives him a quick nod, half relieved, half tensed about what is to come, but deep down the former dominates. 

With a cigarette between his fingers, he tries to calm down his nerves in front of the shop. It’s about as effective as trying to kill a fire with a single drop of water, but at least it keeps his fingers busy.

“I was half convinced that you’d run away.”

He can’t suppress a flinch when he suddenly hears Kei’s voice in the background. 

“Good to see that you didn’t.” 

Grimmly, his best friend appears at his side, arms crossed into a firm wall of distance. 

“So. Why are you here instead of taking a damn rest?”

Kazutora avoids his critical gaze and quickly changes the topic to something that’s not really pleasant either, but better to handle than the stuff that happened yesterday. He just wants to forget about the whole experience and shove it into a forgotten corner of his mind. 

“I wanted to say sorry.”

He is met with silence, but Keisuke’s full attention is on him. Awkwardly, Kazutora shoves the plastic bag into his hands as if to undermine his apology, keeping his head lowered to avoid his gaze. 

“I know that I fucked up. With Chifuyu and stuff. But I never meant for this to happen. It just… kind of did.” He bites his lower lip and sends Kei a cautious side glance, who ignores his little peace offer for now in favor of raising an eyebrow. 

It’s the epitome of uncomfortable, but Kazutora just tries to keep on talking before his heart loses its tiny spark of courage. 

“I didn’t have a place to stay. Got by with couch surfing and staying at twenty four hour cafes.” It’s far from the truth, but comes close enough to not be counted as a full lie; the whole story is something that he’ll totally take to the grave. There are things he won’t even tell Keisuke.

“I wanted to make it on my own,” he continues quietly. “You already did more than enough for me, and – I already bothered you enough.”

Keisuke tenses his jaw and takes in a sharp exhale, so he quickly adds, “I really didn’t plan to stay with Chifuyu. It was supposed to be a single night – but he persuaded me to stay until I‘ll find a place on my own and somehow… I couldn’t reject it.“ It feels like admitting defeat. “I wanted to. I really did…but he said that he wants someone to look after Peke J and I – " Kazutora presses his lips into a thin line, before revealing, "It’s nice…”

A weird feeling wants to settle in his stomach, so he is quick to change the topic, daring to lift his head now and face Keisuke. “I swear that I mean no harm. He is – ” Kazutora stops mid-sentence, unsure how to finish that thought, so he settles for something more harmless. “You were right when you said that he’s a good guy. I’d never drag him into my mess.” 

Well, more than necessary… because in a way, he already did, didn’t he? Just by staying at his place.

“Wow. How the fuck did that even happen? I was convinced that you’d hate him,” Keisuke grunts, which brings a pinched smile to his lips. Yeah. He can’t deny the truth of that. 

“I wanted to. Trust me. But… well.” He bites his lips, shifting his gaze to the ground again. “I kind of got to know him before we met at your place.” It comes hastily over his lips, like a truth you rather want to sweep under the carpet, but Keisuke seems to hear him loud and clear. 

“You what now?”

“It’s – complicated,” he dodges weakly, but it’s obvious that there’s no way out at this point. He already revealed too much and in a way it’s deliberating to finally talk freely to Keisuke – no matter how very fucking highly uncomfortable it might be.

Kazutora takes a deep breath. “Okay, this is going to sound super crazy now, but do you remember that guy I told you about back then? The one I met at the bar?”

Keisuke’s eyes grow huge like moons. “No fucking way.”

He smiles sheepishly in response. “I knew you’d kill me if you found out that we kind of hooked up the night before.”

“You’re shitting me right now.” 

Never in his life has he seen Keisuke being that dumbfounded and Kazutora can’t meet his gaze when he weakly shakes his head. “Sorry. I know it’s – fucked up.” The laugh that falls from his lips sounds a little helpless. “I mean, what’s even the probability? I thought my life’s a fucking joke when he suddenly showed up at your doorstep.” Quickly, Kazutora lifts his hands in a soothing manner. “But I never meant to mess with him. I was just – fuck, I was so overwhelmed by the whole situation. But then again, that’s why I couldn’t really hold a grudge against him I guess. I knew that he is a good guy.” 

…which is why he wanted to leave and never look back after that one night – but life had other plans, obviously. 

“I really tried to stay away from him. But somehow, he didn’t really let me.” Something sad creeps into his smile. “And now we’re here…”

There’s a moment of silence filled with a thousand contradicting emotions and thoughts that haunt him since the whole thing with Chifuyu started, but Keisuke is quick to drag him back into reality. 

“I don’t fucking believe you,” he grits out, hands gesturing wildly into the air. “I mean – what the actual fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We both know you would have killed me.”

“Like hell! I mean – what the fuck, Kazutora? You should have told me! If not that evening, then the next time we met!” His swelling anger is a massive wall, hiding the obvious hurt deep inside. 

He shrugs a little helpless, voice thin and pathetic. “Guess I’m too much of a coward…”

“I’m supposed to be your best friend! So why do you hide from me as if I’m your fucking enemy?”

Kazutora bites his lips. There’s a lot he could tell him. Like, that he’s scared that Kei would see him for what he really is if he just took a closer look at him. Find out about all of the  things he buried so deep inside that they turned into an endless ocean of humiliation and disgust he’d rather drown in than ever revealing it to someone else.  

“Maybe I’m just scared to fuck up again,” he settles for a truth that is easier to stomach. “After everything that happened – I didn’t really think you’d allow me to come back into your life, but you did. So I really didn’t want to give you a reason to regret that right away.”

He can nearly hear the gear-wheels in Keisuke’s brain going full speed in the silence that follows. 

“I swear, you’re the biggest fucking idiot on this planet, Tora.”

It’s pathetic how his heart makes a little jump due to the nickname. 

Keisuke’s sigh is deep and the plastic bag rustles when he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I honestly don’t know what to do with you. For real! Like, what did you even expect me to do? Tell you to fuck off and never come back? As if I ever would!”

It stings a little, because Kazutora remembers shouting something familiar straight  into Keisuke’s face about a year ago, but when backed into a corner, a tiger shows its claws – and Kei had been the only safe target to aim at. 

Washed over by old and fresh traces of guilt, he mumbles, “I don’t know…”

“You said that you wanted to come back into my life – do it, then. I’m not the one who’s keeping you out. You’re fucking great at doing that yourself.” His voice is colored by firm determination, but underneath, he sounds infinitely tired. “What do you need to finally trust me again?”

With wide eyes, he lifts his head to assure, “I do trust you. More than anyone else…”

Keisuke snorts defensively. “Yeah, that’s why you didn’t tell me shit about needing a place to stay and started to share a flat with one of my closest friends behind my back, because you were scared to tell me. Very much trust here indeed.”

His disappointment and open hurt are hard to bear. Kazutora wraps the fingers of his unscathed hand around his left upper arm and digs them harshly into his own flesh. Fights the growing tension until he can force out words he’d rather choke at.

“It’s embarrassing, okay? I came here with no job, no money, no nothing – and I’m really fucking tired of being a problem to everyone around me.” His voice is quiet but harsh with self-disgust. 

Frowning, Keisuke opens his mouth, but he isn’t in the mood to listen to his objections now. “You can’t deny that.” Kazutora looks him straight into the face. “I am causing problems. To you. To Chifuyu. No matter where I go, things get complicated. But I really wanted to do better…” A tired sound leaves his lips, close to a sigh as his gaze falls to the ground again. “And I failed again. My face is proof enough.”

Keisuke remains silent for a moment, before he grumbles, “How exactly did that even happen?” 

Of course, they’d get back to this again. Kazutora curses himself a little for bringing it up, but it was inevitable anyway.

He opens his mouth, yesterday’s lie already on the tip of his tongue, but closes it again. Among all the other truths he already shared, it doesn't really matter anymore and he really wants Keisuke to see that he tries. Their conversation still feels like walking on a tightrope, where he is just a single stupid comment away from losing balance.

So with hanging shoulders, he cautiously admits, “Some rando tried to flirt with me and didn’t take my rejection that well.” It doesn’t reveal too many unnecessary details, but says more than enough for the mood to turn.

Keisuke grows pale. With wide eyes he stares at him, before his face turns into a deadly mask that drenches his words in poison. “Did someone touch you?”

Calmly, Kazutora shakes his head, ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth. “No. It just…got a little violent in front of the bar.”

“Which bar?” Keisuke hisses through gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it? Have you seen your damn face?” With enough force to hurt, he slams his fist against the facade, jaw hardened to keep in his barely controllable anger. “I’m gonna hunt that bastard down and kick in his teeth!” 

A weak smile appears on Kazutora’slips. “It’s not worth the trouble. But thanks for worrying about me.” With his head lowered he then mumbles, “And sorry for doing stuff behind your back. I just – I want to be a better friend for you, Kei. Someone you can joke around with, have a beer now and then and that’s it. Someone like the friends you’ve found here.”

Playing with the hem of his jacket is a very welcome distraction from Keisuke’s intense gaze he can feel lingering on him. Each word cost him a lot to reveal, even in front of the one who always had his back, no matter what. 

Keisuke’s next words, however, hit a spot that nearly makes his eyes burn. “Just talk to me, Tora. Rely on me. That’s all I need of you to be a good friend.” A warm hand grabs his shoulder to give it a firm, but reassuring squeeze and Kazutora is glad that there is no answer expected of him. He couldn’t utter a single word against the huge lump in his throat even if he tried. 

With a deep sigh, Kei retreats his hand, before grumbling in a weird tone that somehow resembles a dad talking to his son, “And don’t mess with Chifuyu, or we’re going to have a real problem.” 

Kazutora can give him a smile that is just as genuine as his words, “Don’t worry. I’d beat myself to a pulp for hurting him. He’s really – I know why you always spoke so highly of him.”

The intense stare that Keisuke throws him is hard to withstand and gives him a guilty conscience for no reason at all. “Do you like him?”

The question catches him off guard and there is an ache in his chest, before his smile grows into something equally knowing and sad. “Is there anyone who doesn’t?” He lets out a small laugh and flashes Keisuke another honest smile. “Don’t worry. I know my place. He is cute, but totally off limits. And I’ve told him right from the start that I’m not looking for anything. No playing games or hidden intentions.”

Just more great, harmless sex from time to time…but he doesn’t feel the need to tell Kei about that if he doesn’t ask. 

He gives Kazutora another intense glance that is nothing but uncomfortable, but seems content with that.

“Fine.”

And suddenly, it is. The unbearable tension around them shrinked into a grain-sized ball and when Kei flops down onto the ground, finally taking a look into the plastic bag, Kazutora can tell that he accepts his apology without any restrictions. 

While Keisuke munches on lukewarm noodles, he sticks to one of the beer cans, ignoring the possible negative effect for the painkillers running in his system. He just needs a fucking rest and unlike Kei, he doesn’t have a job to bother about right now – or anytime soon. 

It doesn’t last long, but Kazutora appreciates that he even took the time to hear him out during his work time and granted them a little moment to calm down together. To no one's surprise, Kei even shoves half of the yakisoba back into his hands, not allowing any complaints and Kazutora takes it with a grateful nod. 

There’s no need to reject or pretend that the little dish cost him money he doesn’t have to spare. 

Chest about a ton lighter, he makes his way back to Chifuyu’s apartment. Kazutora still feels as if he was run over by a train and his whole situation didn’t magically turn into a fairy tail, but his worst-case scenarios didn’t come true. He still has a job and a best friend. That’s more than he expected to get. 

The closer he gets, however, the more present another construction site becomes in his mind and he can feel his unease growing with every step that he takes.

Kazutora tries to be quiet when he enters, but Peke J seems to have hidden sensors to notice immediately whenever someone drops by at the entrance. On tiny paws, he runs over to him, followed by his owner soon after. 

Worry speaks out of Chifuyu’s ocean green eyes, but he settles for a welcoming smile. “You’re back.” His tone is neutral but betrays that he wasn’t sure if he’d return. 

When he left in the morning, Kazutora barely looked at him when he said that he needed to take care of some things and was rather quick to escape. And, to be honest, he still doesn’t really know what to do now. Whether it’s okay to stay.

“Yep. Just had a talk with Kei,” he reveals with as much pretended casualness as possible and steps out of his shoes.

“Oh.” Chifuyu pales a little at that. 

“It’s fine.” A small smile forms on Kazutora’s lips. “I – finally told him everything.” Well, the safe parts… but he keeps that thought to himself and adds instead, “About how we first met and stuff.”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen and a cute blush appears on his cheeks. “You – oh.” The thought takes some seconds to sink in. “What did he say…?”

“He looked like he’d seen a ghost,” grimaces Kazutora and eases the mood with a light laugh, before he states more seriously, “Well, he didn’t throw a party, but he’s okay with it, I'd say. The keeping it from him part is what really bugged him, but we’ve talked it out. As long as I don’t mess with you, we’re cool now.” His wry smile is supposed to come off casual, but inside he isn’t so sure about himself.

Chifuyu, however, is more busy with his own emotions, eyes growing even wider. “That’s – yeah, that’s good…,” he mumbles and averts his gaze, cheeks turning into that darker and very cute shade of pink. “So, do you want to stop this now…?”

Now it’s Kazutora who is caught by surprise. “Do you?” he returns the question. “I mean, it’s fine for me either way. I like having sex with you.” A little smirk appears on his lips that overplays the tiny sting in his chest. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so…”

“No, it’s fine for me as well! It’s just… a little embarrassing that Baji knows now.” Chifuyu’s smile is a bit pinched at the edges, but Kazutora just answers with a light chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t tell him any details or said that it might have happened again – and Kei didn’t really ask either. So don’t you worry your little head, pretty boy.” His grin is bright and a little teasing. “Let’s just keep it the way it is and don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Sure. Right.” Chifuyu’s smiles, but is quick to change the topic . “So… you wanna come in already?” He makes a small step back from the door to leave more space for him to enter into the living room. “Or did you decide to stay with Baji now?”

It’s another statement that catches him totally off guard and Kazutora remains frozen in place. “Uhm, no. I didn’t. But I can leave, no worries, I’m sure he’ll take me in…” The words leave his mouth like a waterfall, mind already running a thousand miles per second, trying to come up with a suitable plan, but Chifuyu is quick to interrupt his racing thoughts.

“No! That’s not what I meant! I – ” He shows a small, but genuine smile. “I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer, but you can stay as long as you want. I’d be glad to have you as my roommate a little longer.” 

It’s weird. They dance around something unspoken that lingers between them like the elephant in the room, but Kazutora tries to ignore his growing unease in favor of concentrating on the relief that floods his chest like sunlight.

“I mean, who should I watch the next episode of What if? with if you’re not here anymore?” Chifuyu continues, smile growing wider as he talks. “I’m sure you’re dying to know if Koki will finally confess to Koharu!”

“Wow, yeah, you totally got me,” Kazutora picks up the threat, shoulders easing down as he moves away from the entrance door. “What should I do without my daily dose of unrealistic romance series?” 

“Shut up,” Chifuyu laughs, which takes all meaning from his playful statement, but Kazutora can’t bite back his smile either. 

Up till now, he didn’t even realize how badly he wanted to stay here. How glad he is to keep this a little longer. It speaks tons that he even dared to show up in front of Chifuyu again after everything that happened yesterday, but…it feels safe with him. Even after showing himself in that vulnerable state it still feels safe. 

Kazutora tries to give none of this too much thought. Neither when he follows Chifuyu into the kitchen, where a plate with colorful mochis just waits to be eaten (soft comfort food, that doesn’t afford much chewing) nor when Chifuyu proposes to change the bandages around his bruised hand, which he does with gentle care and a whiff of sadness in his eyes that is hard to stomach. 

Kazutora lets it happen, telling himself that he isn’t in a position to deny Chifuyu anything and maybe he is a little tired of fighting and running away for now, but the lump in his throat thickens with every act of kindness that is given to him.

For someone like Chifuyu, however, he would choke on it without complaint.

Chapter Text

It’s hard to act as if nothing happened.

Chifuyu gets that Kazutora just wants to forget about the whole incident, but he can’t let it go so easily. It still haunts his mind and although the bruises have started to fade over the course of the last week, he can’t let it go.

No one has been punished for this crime. No justice has been done. So how is he supposed to just move on? How can he accept that the ones doing this to Kazutora get away with it? It’s just not fair! There has to be a consequence!

But without Kazutora’s help, he is powerless in that matter and can do nothing but accept that there isn’t going to be any further investigation. All he can try is to be there for him and show that nothing about this is or will ever be okay – but his anger towards the culprits knows no limits.

Jaw clenched in frustration, he wipes the counter clean with more force than necessary, while Kazutora, who occupied a seat near the counter, seems totally unbothered. Hair pulled into a high ponytail, he scribbles something down into a small, brand new sketchbook.  

Since he has no jobs in sight, Chifuyu kind of pulled some strings to lure him into the coffee shop with the goal in mind to have him give the interior a new look. Perhaps he revealed to his boss that he knew an amazing, up-and-coming artist who could replace their simple decor with something new and unique.

There had been resistance, as expected, but upon seeing the money his boss would be willing to pay, Kazutora redecided. Which is why he is sitting in the middle of the coffee shop now, trying to come up with a suitable idea, but Chifuyu has no doubt that he’ll create something amazing. 

“Excuse me…?” A soft voice suddenly rips him out of it. When he lifts his head, Chifuyu is met with a friendly smile. 

“Can I take my order from you?” The girl in front of him is a frequenter, always taking an unholy amount of syrup into her latte macchiato. She wears her dark hair in a modern bob and always wears lipstick matching her pink nails. Today, it’s a bright shade, resembling bubblegum. Chifuyu always thought she’s probably studying journalism or something similar. 

“Of course, sorry!” Chifuyu is quick to put a customer-friendly smile onto his face and wipes his hands dry on his apron. 

“No worries.” She leans over the counter, smile growing wider as she taps onto the laminated menu. “I’ll take a caramel latte macchiato with vanilla syrup and…” Her eyes dart briefly over the selection of drinks. “A black coffee. Grande.” 

“Right, on its way.” Chifuyu doesn’t give it much thought, mind still caught up in his thoughts about Kazutora and the injustice that has been done to him. However, when he puts the tray on the counter, he has to watch how the girl carries it straight to Kazutora’s table, a sweet smile on her lips. 

It happens so fast and just like Chifuyu, Kazutora seems perplexed at first, but soon meets her with a charming smile that’s more of a mask than real; but it looks pretty on him either way. His fingers shield whatever he doodled onto the paper on instinct and he casually snaps the sketchbook shut before the girl takes the free seat opposite of him, shoving the coffee into his direction.

Did she watch Kazutora and his coffee drinking habits…? 

From the distance, he can’t really tell what they’re talking about, but it’s obvious where this is aiming at and Chifuyu – shit, he really isn’t comfortable seeing that. 
It’s not that he is jealous or anything. The nasty ache in his chest is just… okay, who is he even trying to fool? He is jealous. Although it’s thoroughly stupid and he doesn’t even have any right to be, but…it feels awful. He feels awful. Kazutora doesn’t belong to him and they’re only having some fun together now and then, but… yeah, okay, he does like him. But it’s still just a dumb crush and he can totally handle this!

Kazutora can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. It’s got nothing to do with him.

…but perhaps Chifuyu is a (huge) bit relieved that he shows no signs of real interest. He smiles politely, but it’s still his usual mask, so – 

“Hey! I’d like a small coffee to go and a piece of that carrot cake please!” His futile train of thoughts is interrupted by another customer, which is probably for the best, but a certain tension remains somewhere in his chest. He can easily ignore it though. 

Chifuyu makes it through his shift with only taking a few peeks at Kazutora’s table, where the girl and her pink nails remain for at least half an hour. Which is a lot of time to talk (or exchange numbers, or – okay, no, he will stop this right here and now!). 

The amount of relief that washes over him when she finally leaves is ridiculous, but he really doesn’t want Kazutora to be bothered by anyone. (Especially not some pretty girls who try to hit on him. …does Kazutora even like girls? They’ve never talked about this kind of stuff, but, again, it’s none of his damn business anyway.)

Angry at himself this time, he lets out an exasperated huff and washes his hands with a load of extra cold water to get a grip on himself. 

However, fate or whatever mighty power is in charge of his life, really seems to try to test him today. 

“Hey. Can I order the barista…?”

Even before turning around he can perfectly imagine the playful smirk, paired with that cocky gleam in golden eyes. 

Chifuyu can neither bite back his smile, nor suppress the heat spreading to the tips of his ears. 

“Cocky customers are being kicked out, you know,” he points out and lifts an eyebrow. 

“Oh. Sounds dangerous.” Kazutora’s grin deepens and he gives the tray that carries his empty coffee cup a little push to prop his elbows onto the counter. “Good thing that I’m the freelance artist of this joint now, which makes me an employee.”

Playfully, Chifuyu raises his eyebrows and props himself up on the counter as well. “Well, hate to break it to you, but employees aren’t supposed to flirt during work.” 

“What, customers are allowed to shamelessly flirt with me but I can’t flirt with the cute barista now? How unfair.”

Chifuyu can’t suppress a quiet snort and adverts his gaze to the tray. “You looked like you could handle it.”

Does his voice sound weird? Irritated somehow? If so, Kazutora doesn’t comment on it. Instead he points out, with delight, “Oh, so you watched me instead of doing your work? I could tell your boss, you know.”

“You don’t have any proof while I have this.” Challenging, Chifuyu lifts a scrunched piece of paper, stuck between his forefinger and middle finger. A phone number is neatly written down on it and he ignores the weird way his stomach twists. 

“Damn, seems like you’ve got me in the palm of your hand. Any idea how I can make up for it so you won’t tell the boss that I flirted with you?” There’s a challenging gleam in his eyes and if they were at home, things would probably end with less talking and a lot more kissing and touching, but right now he has something entirely different in mind. 

“Go to the cinema and watch that new romance movie with me.” 

It blurts out of Chifuyu’s mouth without giving it a second thought and he is quick to add, “If you don’t have other plans already.” With that girl, but he restrains himself from voicing that ridiculous thought. 

Meanwhile, Kazutora sighs dramatically. “Sounds like I don’t really have a choice.”

“Too bad for you.” Chifuyu tries to play it cool, but he can feel his heartbeat fasten in excitement. The phone number keeps him down to earth though and he can’t help but to ask, “Do you still need this?”, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Kazutora dismissed it with a quick wave of his hand. “Nope, not interested”, and it’s stupid, really, but when Chifuyu grabs the tray and turns around to bring it to the sink, the relieved smile on his lips is wide enough to make him look like a fool. 

It’s not a date. 

They never had a date nor will they ever have one, but in a weird way, it feels like it. Chifuyu still isn’t really sure why he asked him either, but if he is honest with himself, then perhaps a certain girl played a role in it.

Thank god, Kazutora is totally oblivious to it though, so he can chalk it up to a ridiculous short circuit in his brain and move on.

It’s no big deal anyway. Just two friends watching a movie together. In the dark. They’ve been doing this plenty of times in his own flat. Even had sex during the movie or afterwards. So there’s really no reason for his heart to act as if this is the first date with his longtime crush in highschool.       

“Man, it’s been ages since I went to the cinema.” Kazutora leans back in the comfy chair, arms crossed behind his head. A huge bag of popcorn rests in his lap, while Chifuyu carries their drinks and slumps down in the seat next to him. 

It was a little challenging to manage the payment, but he casually suggested that he’ll pay today and Kazutora will pay next time. The teasing comment he got in return about how smoothly he just talked him into another movie date sent another wave of heat into his cheeks, but Kazutora agreed under the condition of picking out the movie next time. 

“And I bet you’ve never seen such an awesome movie before on screen. You can thank me later,” Chifuyu playfully picks up the threat, glad to have a distraction from the mess in his head.

The answer is a raised eyebrow. “I doubt that this can compete with Zombies vs. Monster Rats, but ok.”

“Zombies vs what now?”

A wide grin shows on Kazutora’s lips. “Monster Rats. An old classic. I sneaked into that movie with Kei when we were like fourteen or fifteen. Best movie ever.”

“You have absolutely no taste in movies,” Chifuyu points out, but he can vividly imagine the scene and Kazutora’s smile has that genuine, excited gleam only truly happy memories harbor. Something warm spreads in his chest and he thinks that it makes Kazutora appear younger and more approachable. It’s a pretty sight, but vanishes soon under a more challenging expression. 

“I am willing to learn, but I doubt that a movie called Lifeblood is something worth remembering.”

“But Zombies vs Rats is?” Chifuyu doesn’t even try to hide his doubts.

“Monster Rats!”

He rolls his eyes in false annoyance. “Fine, Zombies vs Monster Rats. Doesn’t sound any better.”

“Well, we’ll see. I’ll give you my ranking later, pretty boy.” The wink paired with that nickname has the same effect as always and Chifuyu hides his flusteredness behind a deep sigh and a shake with his head. 

Lucky him, the room darkens only a second later and helps him to save his dignity, but a certain tension remains, subtle, like the smell in the air before rain. Chifuyu sinks deeper into his seat, trying to ignore it and reaches over to grab a handful of popcorn. Without any comment, Kazutora places the paperbag on the armrest between them, brushing his arm casually against Chifuyu’s. It’s nothing new or groundbreaking, but somehow, he is hyper aware of Kazutora’s presence next to him and the movie is soon reduced to a negligibility.

Like a moth drawn to the flame, he catches his mind wandering back to Kazutora over and over again. It would only take a distance of a few inches to take his hand. Intertwine their fingers to a gentle unity. Stretch out his arm to pull him closer. Let his head find a place to rest on his shoulder. Pull him into a soft kiss. Play with his hair.

It’s a dangerous route to take and he keeps appealing to his own reason, but the notion remains like a soft whisper in the back of his mind. A quiet desire for something that is out of reach.

So he keeps his thoughts and wishes and hands to himself and just watches the movie with a friend. A friend he sometimes sleeps with, but that‘s all there is to it. End of the story.

And if his heart jumps a little when he sees the way Kazutora‘s face lightens up during a really stupid joke the main character cracks, that‘s his secret to keep.

“Okay okay, I gotta admit that I didn‘t see the plot twist with the twin brother coming. That was pretty cool.“ Hands buried in his pockets, Kazutora walks next to him through the night, head slightly tilted towards him. The sweet smell of popcorn still lingers in Chifuyu’s nose and his mind is full with thoughts about the movie (and stuff he tries to shove away).

“Told ya!“he picks up the thread with a triumphantly grin. 

“But the end was way too much. I mean come on. That I‘ll-love-you-until-the-end-of-time-stuff? That was just gross.“

“It‘s called romance!“

Kazutor snorts. “I think it‘s called stupid and naive, but ok.“ Then, with a wry grin he grants, “The popcorn was good though. And the company. But next time, I‘ll choose a better movie!“

“I fear the worst from someone who speaks highly of a movie called Zombies vs Monster Rats...“

They continue their playful bickering until the next combini comes into sight. It seems only natural that they stroll inside and pick up snacks and some cans of beer to round off the evening in front of the TV. They only make it as far as the hallway though.

It’s a sudden urge to pull Kazutora closer as soon as the entrance door shuts behind them as if it’s allowed to touch him now. Gentle, but with determination, Chifuyu places his hand at the back of his neck to guide him to his lips for a longing kiss.

It’s not impatient or pressing, but tastes of passion and desire. 

Kazutora seems surprised for a split second, but leans into the kiss without any complaints. 

“Someone is eager,” he murmurs with a smug smile. 

“You can say no, “Chifuyu reminds him, a little embarrassed from his own impulse. “Always.”

With a soft chuckle, Kazutora wraps his arms around his waist and mutters, “What, you chickening out now, pretty boy?”

Chifuyu opens his lips, trying to come up with a witty answer, but they’re sealed right away with another, deep kiss. 

A familiar heat spreads in his chest as they stumble towards the living room, but something feels different today. He’s not in the mood for a rushed quickie on the couch, with their clothes spread in the hallway like leaves and their kisses also tell a different story. Instead of a messy fight for dominance it’s more like a passionate dance; eager, but gentle. 

It happens naturally that he drags Kazutora away from the couch and guides him into his bedroom. They’ve never done it in here, except for that first night where they still had been strangers. If Kazutora is surprised, he doesn’t let it show, still occupied by his hungry lips. 

Chifuyu’s hands slide under a loose shirt, mapping out a slender body that trembles softly under the touch of his fingers, but Kazutora is quick to mimic the motion. Breaking the contact of their lips, they keep each other in place with their eyes, heavy with lust and anticipation. 

When they pull the fabric over their heads, they mess it up a bit, limbs and shirts tangling together and the soft laugh that escapes Chifuyu’s lips doesn’t kill the mood, but only fills his chest with more warmth. Eyebrows drawn together, Kazutora solves their mess, but the little smile on his lips betrays that he is also rather fond than annoyed.

With their bodies bare and free of bothersome fabric, Chífuyu bridges the distance again, wrapping his arms around the pale body. Gently, his fingers run over the arch of his back, fanning out his shoulder blades as he leans in closer to steal another kiss.

It’s another slow one, allowing him to savor this moment in each and every aspect. Lazily, his tongue pushes forward, meeting its well-known counterpart, which seems eager to fight, but quickly agrees to another quiet dance. 

Chifuyu never allowed himself to be slow with this before, always following Kazutora’s inner rhythm of quick, efficient sex that is just meant to bring release. Which is fine. Technically, that’s their only reason to sleep with each other to begin with, but…there’s no harm in adding something softer, something more intimate to this, is it? 

He feels like no one ever took the time to cherish Kazutora in the way he deserves it and he really wants to show him that this can be more than heated moans and heavy panting and an overwhelming orgasm. 

It’s a dangerous desire; a line he shouldn’t cross. A part inside is well aware and Chifuyu even has enough common sense left to hear its admonishing voice, urging him to not be stupid. Not make the same mistake again. But his heart is brimming with so much warmth and fondness for the man in his arms, that he can’t help it.

Besides, something that feels so damn good can’t be wrong, can it…? 

As he gives more into the kiss, Chifuyu slowly moves backwards until the edge of his bed brings him to a halt. Guiding his hands down, he aims for the waistband of Kazutora’s trousers and opens the fly to the rhythm of their deep kiss.

Slowly, he pulls the fabric down, letting his hands slide over the bare skin of his butt and give it a little squeeze. 

Kazutora’s small sound of surprise is muffled between their lips and he slightly backs away to murmur “You’re daring today, pretty boy.” 

Chifuyu flashes him a brave smile. “Couldn't resist, pretty boy yourself.” And he is. He is so damn pretty and the slight blush on his pale cheeks and the red-kissed lips only add another layer of beauty. 

Out of a feeling he can’t label, Chifuyu reaches out his hand to gently cup Kazutora’s cheek and caress the shade of soft pink with his thumb. It’s a soft, intimate gesture and his smile grows into something fond, something longing that’s meant for someone who holds your heart. He is quick to break the spell though, pulling Kazutora closer to his mouth to smother every spark of an unnecessary feeling in another hungry kiss.

They fall easily back into their rhythm and when his trousers and briefs hit the ground, he drags them both down onto the bed. The soft cushions welcome them like the embrace of a lover and he briefly wonders why they never cared to change into the bedroom for this. It’s so much more comfortable. 

Arms and legs tangled in an impossible angle, they roll through the sheets, mouths only separating to get a quick breath of air in between. 

When they come to a brief halt, Chifuyu is the one on top of that gorgeous man, framing his head between his propped up arms. They keep their connection with intense eye contact, refusing to let the other escape for even a split second. 

“So. What do you have in mind now, pretty boy?” Kazutora murmurs between two heavy breaths with his usual smirk, voice heavy with arousal.  

Gaze set on this handsome face, his answer comes without a second thought.  “Stay like this.”

A hint of uncertainty flickers over Kazutora’s face, only for an instant, but it quickly vanishes behind an expression of curious anticipation. 

Chifuyu shoves the pinprick of unease in his guts aside and focuses on the task at hand: worshiping every inch of that beautiful body in a way it deserves.

He starts slowly, with another deep kiss that’s meant to ease, but soon drags his lips towards Kazutora’s sharp jawline, following it down until he reaches his sensitive neck. He can sense the soft vibration of Kazutora’s adam’s apple when he gulps, peppering the skin with sloppy kisses in a way that pleases Kazutora. It’s something that Chifuyu learned through careful observation, because he still barely voices what he likes, but his reactions do betray him. They reached a level where he doesn’t feel the need to restrain himself all the time.

To the sound of Kazutora’s quickening breath, he continues his path, giving the crook of his neck a soft bite. His skin tastes exhilarating on the tip of his tongue when he licks over the marked area and draws a wet stripe towards his left collarbone. When Chifuyu nibbles softly at the elevation and presses some messy kisses onto it, he learns through a quiet pant that this is another spot that Kazutora likes. 

He gives it some extra attention, tracing over the neglected collarbone on the right side with soft fingertips to see if it has a similar effect. (It does.)

Just when he’s about to trail further down, taking Kazutora’s chest into focus next, the man’s husky voice brings him to a halt.

“What are you up to?“

Looking up, Chifuyu is faced with a familiar smirk he doesn’t fully buy, but mimics before he comes up with his answer. “Enjoying the view and – “ In a promising manner, he lets his palm slide down until it rests on Kazutora’s hipbone. “Learning more about what you like.”

“I like to hear your moans, pretty boy.” 

The way Kazutora reaches out his thumb to brush over Chifuyu’s lower lip, slightly dragging it down should be a sin, but he returns the ball by wrapping his mouth around the finger and releasing it with a soft popping sound. The gleam in Kazutora’s eyes is equally surprised and delighted and Chifuyu feels daring enough to lean down to his earlobe and murmur encouragingly, “Let’s make a deal then. You’ll hear mine if you let me hear yours.”

If someone told him a month ago that he’d act around Kazutora like this, he would have laughed it off with an embarrassed noise of disbelief and the heat in his cheeks probably shows, but he grew a lot more confident around him. A lot more brave – and Kazutora, on the other hand, learned to trust and let go a bit more. At least that’s what he hopes. 

Since there are no objections, Chifuyu continues where he left off. Fighting the urge to leave a visible mark, he abandons the collarbones and kisses his way towards a pink nipple, already hardened in anticipation. It’s a very sensitive area that does like attention, but only to a certain degree. Giving it some playful licks earns him some heavy breaths of pleasure, but squeezing or twisting between greedy fingertips will only lead to fake excitement with a rather pinched expression.

Chifuyu does wonder if someone else ever cared enough to notice.

After giving just the right amount of spotlight to both nipples, he licks a wet strip down to Kazutora’s belly button and mimics the gesture with his fanned fingers to run over the rise of ribs he can feel underneath his touch.

While his palms slide further down to gently spread Kazuzota’s legs, his mouth kisses a messy path to the groin and soon he is rewarded with muffled, heavy panting and a squirming body, silently begging for more – but he neglects the part that wants to be touched most for now. Instead, his tongue draws a line to the inner side of Kazutora’s thigh, caressing the pale skin with soft bites and kisses. 

While he keeps the leg in place with one hand, the other one is free to wander back towards the middle, spicing things up a bit. Tracing up the length with his forefinger sends a shiver through Kazutora’s body and when he wraps his fingers around the hardening cock, he can hear a breath being sucked in. Encouraged by that reaction, he moves his palm towards the tip, using his thumb to draw lazy circles and spread the first pearls of precum. 

His reward follows on the spot. A low moan slips through Kazutora’s lips and he is spurred on to hear more. Using his mouth, he presses more kisses onto the inside of his thighs, learning that this is another area that likes to get attention. Panting, Kazutora can‘t keep still, desperately trying to get more friction while Chifuyu caresses the sensitive tip, thumb pressing against the wet slit.

The desperate fingers that grab a fistful of his hair come as a pleasant surprise and bring him to a short halt. When he lifts his gaze he is greeted by a view that is one to remember. Eyes pressed shut, Kazutora‘s trembling lips are slightly parted, with a beautiful shade of dusk spreading on his cheeks like clouds in a sunset. It is a picture that is just as sinful as it is sensual, revealing a vulnerability that brings an ache to Chifuyu‘s chest, faint like an echo, but meaningful like a heart‘s secret.  

Fondness blooms in his chest, laced with a tingle of excitement and pride and Chifuyu is eager to go further. Allow Kazutora to let go even more and surrender himself completely.

Thumb sticky with precum, he traces down the thick vein to the base, finding a slow rhythm to slide the hard length up and down. His mouth kisses its way inwards and he tries to copy how Kazutora spoiled his balls last time. First, he gives a testing lick and then slowly wraps his lips around, exploring the sensitive skin with the tip of his tongue. Choked sounds of pleasure soon fill the room and the grip around his hair thightens. 

“Stop – or I’ll – ” Kazutora’s breathless gasp transitions into an unbridled moan. A jolt goes through his body and warm, sticky strings of white spread on his belly like messy brushstrokes. Chifuyu pumps him patiently through his orgasm, relishing every raw reaction, every movement or sound of pleasure without any filter. 

When he is nothing but a mess gasping for air, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, Chifuyu shifts his position back to how they started.

“Or you’ll come?” he whispers challengingly into Kazutora’s ear, a smile pulling at his mouth. “That’s exactly what I was aiming for.” He gives the spot behind his earlobe a quick kiss and can’t help the smug expression when he leans back to get a look at Kazutora’s face.

Cheeks flushed, he still gasps for air, but the words that stumble out of his mouth have an impatient undertone behind his knowing smile. “Great, can you fuck me now? You’re dick must be dying for attention.” The hand that finds its way to Chifuyu’s neck urgently guides him to greedy lips. 

It’s a hungry kiss, although Kazutora barely caught a breath. An obvious diversionary maneuver, but Chifuyu gives in. He knows enough to get that he probably needs that now.

“Let me prep you first,” he insists though, murmuring the words against Kazutora’s lips. 

As an answer, a slender hand wraps around his wrist to drag it closer to his face. “Make it quick, pretty boy.”

His fingers are still sticky with cum, but Kazutora doesn’t mind when he sticks out his tongue to guide them into his mouth, shamelessly sucking on them with skilled movements. 

Chifuyu’s dick twitches in very obvious interest, because yes, it is screaming for attention, but his conscious mind wants to keep Kazutora in focus. No matter how hard he tries to please him instead. 

“I’d rather make it feel good, prettiest boy ,” Chifuyu smirks, but his smile is laced with a certain fondness when he leans down to replace his wet fingers with his mouth instead. 

Blindly, he reaches out for his nightstand to get lube and drench his fore- and middle finger in a good amount before he lets action follow.

As promised or threatened, depending on how you look at it, Chifuyu does take his time. Keeps Kazutora’s lips occupied for a while to drown out any complaint about speeding things up, before ghosting more kisses onto his skin to make sure that not a single spot is left out. 

It does the trick. When he pushes in a third finger without much effort, Kazutora is hard again, panting quietly to the rhythm he provides. The heavy gaze he gives Chifuyu through eyes clouded with lust is another level of arousing and although he doesn’t beg with words, it’s obvious that he wants more. More of that feeling, more of him and the thought alone sends a wave of heat through his whole body. 

“About time,” Kazutora presses out through a smirk, trying to hide his unsteady breathing when Chifuyu positions himself between his legs, cock already leaking drops of precum. 

Instead of coming up with a verbal answer, he presses his tip against the waiting entrance, suppressing a moan when the tight heat welcomes him. It’s met with a similar response and when their clouded eyes meet, a shiver runs through his veins like high voltage current. 

Chifuyu pushes in slowly, trying to savor every second of this overwhelming sensation without going insane. His lips are drawn to Kazutora’s again and he shuts them messily, panting into his open mouth. 

Fingers urging for something to hold onto, he reaches out for Kazutora’s hands, intertwining them to a firm unity before he presses them demandingly into the sheets. 

It’s nothing like their usual sex, which is messy and boisterous and amazing in its own way, but this is something more intimate. Something more intense. Something passionate.

…something he probably should only share with a lover, but Kazutora deserves to be treated like one. Someone who is cherished and adored. 

Kazutora reaches his climax before he does, but Chifuyu follows soon after. With three, deep thrusts and a shaky moan on his lips, he releases himself and comes to a rest at Kazutora’s chest. Exhausted, he waits for his breath to calm down, while he can hear the fast beating of Kazutora’s heart. It’s a sound that has him smiling like a fool and actually, he could just close his eyes and fall asleep right here and now.

Common sense wins the upper hand though, so he only grants himself a few more seconds before propping himself onto his elbows and pulling out his softened cock. The urge to lean forward and involve Kazutora into a gentle, innocent kiss is undeniable. Pull him into his arms, one hand buried in his soft hair, while the other lazily caresses his back. Have that amazing after sex cuddle where the sheets are the softest and sleep comes so easily with the warmth of another body and the safety of a gentle pair of arms.  

The words are already on the tip of his tongue. Just a small question, an invitation to stay, but Chifuyu restrains himself last minute.

He may be a dreamer, a hopeless romantic and sometimes even a fool, but…they only agreed to having sex and from what he learned so far, people around Kazutora don’t tend to respect his boundaries – and he doesn’t want to be one of them. 

Putting him into an uncomfortable situation is the last thing Chifuyu wants, so he keeps his thoughts and wishes and naive daydreams to himself, once again, and watches with a wistful smile and a quiet ache in his chest how Kazutora folds back the sheets and gets up with that usual smirk on his lips. 

“That was quite a ride, pretty boy. Good night.” With an amused gleam in his golden eyes, he taps two fingers against his temple as if he salutes, before he heads for the shower as if nothing special happened. Which is true, technically, but he still can’t deny a little pinprick of (inappropriate) disappointment. 

With a deep sigh, Chifuyu sinks deeper into the sheets, staring at the ceiling with a rather pinched smile on his lips. He is very officially a mess… but that’s fine. He got this. 

Even if he fell a little harder for Kazutora than originally planned – it won’t change a thing. 

Chapter Text

Kazutora hates to be nervous. In his opinion, it’s an unnecessary feeling that only makes you appear weak when you least need it.

He wouldn’t necessarily say that he is nervous right now. Just a little tense. The way you are before an unknown situation with unknown people around. 

Technically, he is used to these kinds of events. With Shuji at his side, he visited plenty of fancy fashion shows with plenty of important people – but without him, he feels strangely vulnerable. As if he lost his protecting shield, which is the most ridiculous thought he ever had, considering that it’s Shuji he’S talking about. The man who threw him to the sharks. 

“Not to praise myself, but – I knew you’d look amazing in this.” Like a proud parent, Mitsuya gives him a whole once-over, eyes beaming with gentle excitement. 

Kazutora, unsure what to do with the compliment, remains silent and tries to help Mitsuya getting a good overall view. 

The black, silky fabric of the button down shirt feels fantastic on his skin and the golden tiger motif that is stitched onto the sleeves matches his eye color. The comfortable pair of trousers is made of a fabric for suits and is also ornamented with a thin, golden stripe reaching vertically from the waistband to the bottom. The plain tiger stripes on his black sneakers add another nice detail. 

It’s a classic look that everyone could pull off. Mitsuya really outdid himself and Kazutora can see why everyone handles him as the next big deal.  

“I also told you!” Hakkai chimes in right away with a pleased smirk on his lips. He wears a similar design, but instead of black, his clothe’s color is midnight blue, matching his short shaved hair and the round ornaments on his sleeves are shining in a bright orange. 

Unlike him, Hakkai looks like a real model.  

“I’m still not used to doing a runway show…,” Kazutora mumbles defensively and avoids his gaze. He is well aware that he is only here because of a friendship bonus, but he is clearly in no position to complain. Every job is a welcome opportunity to get money, although he won’t earn much from this.  

It’s an old tradition that his model agency works together with Mitsuya’s university department and once a year, two students are allowed to present their collection at a prestigious fashion show alongside other designers. It’s a huge honor and Kazutora feels a little out of place, but Mitsuya and Hakkai weren’t the only ones who were keen on getting him here. Hoshino also sparkled with excitement, although he didn’t consider him for a fashion show before due to his lack of experience on a runway.  

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” Hakkai gives his shoulder a reassuring pat. “It’s not rocket science. Just keep your face in check and make sure not to stumble.”

He makes this sound so easy, but the mere option of fucking this up keeps Kazutora on edge. On the outside, he doesn’t let it show though and just gives Hakkai a curt nod. 

While Mitsuya makes some minor changes by plucking the fabric into place, Hakkai chats casually with some of the other models. Kazutora kept his distance up till now and only watches from afar, but they probably don’t really like him anyway. Especially since Hoshino found a certain interest in him. The competitiveness in this business is next level shit.

As if he called for it, the man in question appears only a second later, perfectly dressed as always. The suit Hoshino wears this time has the color of chocolate, with caramel colored accessoires. 

“Oh, you look to die for,” he comments right away and gives Kazutora a full once-over just like Mitsuya did before. “Come, I need to introduce you to someone.”

Without further ado, Hoshino links arms with him and is about to drag him away, when Mitsuya gives a veto.

“He’s already wearing the piece for the show,” he points out calmly and the smile he wears is polite, but it’s obvious that he’d rather keep Kazutora, and especially his clothes, in eyesight. 

“All the better, my friend’s really interested in your work.” The bright smile that Hoshino flashes at him is one that knows no rejections. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to bring him and your clothes back unscathed and in time.”

He gives Mitsuya a short wink and a squeeze to his shoulder and that’s it. Kazutora is alone with the man and in a way, all of this feels painfully familiar, but Hoshino is a very different man compared to Shuji.

He may be brash, eccentric and takes what he wants, but there are no shady intentions or double floors. You get what you see, which is a nice change. 

Hoshino guides him to the pompous entrance area where the guests are chatting under the dim light of chandeliers at high tables and wait for the show to start. Appetizers and champagne are being served on tiny trays, but Kazutora learned that modes aren’t supposed to touch either. 

Different names and short anecdotes are being murmured into his ear, while Hoshino points and waves at all kinds of different people. Kazutora doesn’t really listen and just keeps his head low, trying to avoid too much eye contact. He doesn’t want to draw any attention to himself, which is hard with the position he is in. Hoshino is the center of attention wherever he shows up, so it’s only natural that all eyes are on him as well.

It’s only when Hoshino raises his voice that he lifts his head to see who they are approaching.

“Eguchi! The man I was looking for!” 

Hoshino releases his arm in favor of greeting a gawky guy with oversized glasses and a thin mustache. His suit is black like ink. The silver bow tie, that matches his polished shoes, are the only colorful pieces. Black nail polish finishes the classy look. 

“Hoshino! It’s so good to see you, my friend.” 

With wide arms they fall into a huge embrace and Kazutora welcomes the small pause that is granted to him, but it doesn’t last long.

“I totally need to introduce someone to you. Come here.” Smiling, Hoshino makes a waving gesture and although it reminds him of a dog owner calling its pet, Kazutora complies. All for the money.

“Say hello to my newest attainment: Kazutora Hanemiya! As soon as this beauty set foot into the agency, I knew I had to take him in. I know a diamond in the rough when I see one.”

“Oh, you looks amazing!” That Egushi guy is immediately stoked, observing him as if he is a unique piece of art. “What are you wearing? I totally need to put you into some haute couture and let you walk for one of my shows.” 

The words rush out of his mouth like a waterfall and it’s hard to follow, let alone come up with a suitable answer, but nothing seems to be expected of him anyway, except for standing still and enduring the detailed glance over.

“He’s wearing Takashi’s brand,” Hoshino casually explains and Kazutora suppresses a flinch when the weight of the man’s hands appears on his shoulders. “I just stole him away from the final fitting to introduce him to you.”

Egushi, who just trapped a piece of the collar with his thumb and forefinger to get a better look, stops in his movement. “You brought him here wearing an outfit for the show? Hoshino, don’t you know that this is bad luck? That poor designer kid!”

“He’ll be fine. But I just needed to show you the boy. He’s going to be the next star in the fashion business, I tell you.”

While Hoshino brags more about his oh-so-bright future, Kazutora zones out. His opinion doesn’t matter anyway since they talk about him instead of with him, but that spares him the trouble of having an uncomfortable conversation he never asked for.

Impassively, his gaze drifts through the room. If it wasn’t for his dire need of money, he’d totally prefer to spend the day at Chifuyu’s couch. Play a bit with Peke J, scribble down some stuff into his sketchbook, wait for Chifuyu to come home and – 

His stupid daydream is brutally crashed by the real life horror of a vaguely familiar face. It’s only a fleeting glance at first, but a closer looks turns a first hunch into cruel certainty. 

Kazutora freezes, body shivering under a memory he buried in the depths of his soul, where all of his darkest secrets are hidden. The ones he desperately tries to shove away.

Heart in his mouth, he tries to swallow down the sudden dryness in his throat, fails, and forces his gaze away from the ghost of his past. 

“I need to go to the restroom.” Somehow, these words leave his lips and somehow, he even manages to get moving. 

Kazutora doesn’t wait for a reaction, let alone a permission to leave. Like a robot, he heads towards the restroom, gaze set onto his destination. The taste on his tongue is bitter and the nausea growing in his stomach hard to keep in, but he must pull himself together. He just needs a second to fucking breathe and get away from that ugly memory. 

The cold water on his forearms is balm to his agitated nerves. Kazutora releases a deep breath, careful to not stain the valuable fabric of his suit with a single droplet of water. Cold anger begins to crawl up his throat and he hates the way his hands are trembling. It’s pathetic. 

Why is this loser even here? And why does it effect him? To hell with this! He’ll just – 

The sound of the door opening makes him immediately jerk his head to the left and for a split second, his eyes widen in horror, before he quickly turns away.

No. No, no, no.

“Hey, it’s been a while.” The guy whose name he refuses to recall steps into his personal space without hesitation. Kazutora darkly remembers that he’s in charge for a mediocre brand of shoes. “I didn’t even know Hanma is here today! Where is he?”

The hairs on his neck stand up in response to Shuji’s last name, but he mustn’t let it get to him. 

“I don’t know or care. I’m not working with him anymore.” His voice is clad in ice and Kazutora turns off the tap with more force than necessary, without giving the guy so much as a sideways glance.

“You don’t? That’s a shame.”

A step is being taken towards him and he can smell the familiar scent of an expensive perfume. His throat tightens. 

“But if you want another job, I can surely do something for you. Our last cooperation – ”

“Not interested.” Kazutora interrupts him without thinking, the urge to flee dominating every thought in his head.

“You sure? Well, if you ever change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

He dashes towards the door and thankfully, no one holds him back. The air around him is stuffy, the room full of unfamiliar faces and although Hoshino might get angry, he can’t go back to him. Being in the same room as that shadow from his past is unbearable and the only thing that keeps him from rushing out of the entrance is Mitsuya’s work. He can’t leave before returning his clothes. 

“Ah, look who finally shows himself!” A  familiar voice greets him as soon as he reenters the area behind the scenes with a stony face. Keisuke flashes him a grin that is just as wide as it is proud and after a second of realization, something in his stomach twists.

 “Wow, you look amazing!” A second familiar voice chimes in and he is even more surprised to see Chifuyu, who doesn’t even try to hide his staring. Under different circumstances, he’d consider it cute, but his brain is still busy trying to find meaning in this.  

“What are you doing here…?” Kazutora mumbles, clearly taken off guard. It’s remarkable how quickly his bone deep unease is washed away by utter astonishment. 

“Cheering on you. And Mitsuya and Hakkai, of course,” Keisuke explains casually, grin turning into a lop-sided one. 

“I told them that you’re going to take part in my runway show,” Mitsuya explains calmly, showing him a gentle smile. “And now let me fix your outfit. I can’t believe that Hoshino actually stole you away.” A deep sigh slips through his lips and Kazutora can’t help but apologize.

“Sorry…”

Mitsuya raises an eyebrow. “What for? He always does what he wants. But I hope it’s been worth it at least and he introduced you to someone important.” He works with quiet efficacy while talking, smoothing out any wrinkle or slipped piece of fabric with gentle fingers. His whole presence is strangely soothing and Kazutora can’t help but to think about the huge contrast compared to the scene before. 

Only minutes ago, he thought about nothing but a quick escape, caught in a state of nastiest regret and disgust, while now he is surrounded by people who actually mean well. People who smile at him and try to lift him up. It’s like a different world and it’s still hard to imagine that he is supposed to be part of this now.

Any thoughts about slipping out of Mitsuya’s clothes and cancel the whole event crumble away like ashes in the wind. When his gaze meets Chifuyu, he can only describe his expression as mesmerized.

Kazutora can’t help but giving him a small wink, to which ocean green eyes widen in surprise, followed by a cute blush and he can’t bite back a playful smile when Chifuyu rolls his eyes in fake annoyance, grin remaining on his lips.

It’s the last bit needed to feel comfortable again and even when Mitsuya shoos the others away with gentle sternness, he is confident to manage this. The past is over – and this is the future he chose. 

“Enough special treatment for you two now, get back and wait for the show to begin like everyone else. I need to take last preparations and my models to focus on the show.” 

“Killjoy,” Keisuke complains mumbling, but grabs Kazutora’s shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Kick their asses out there, Tora! If anyone gives you a weird look, I’ll punch them.”

Mitsuya sighs like a tired father, but his amused smirk betrays the fondness underneath. “A fashion show isn’t a fight, Baji, but I’m sure that they’ll be blown away. This outfit is literally made for him.”

The look that Mitsuya gives him is proud and Kazutora can hardly stand it, but he wills the attempt of a smile onto his lips and answers with a weak nod.

“You can do this!” Chifuyu grins brightly and gives him a thumbs up, before he heads with Kei towards the exit. 

Kazutora watches them wistfully, but his smile doesn’t waver and the warmth in his chest is comfortable like a soft blanket in winter. He didn’t expect anyone to come, but it’s a nice feeling that someone out there cares. Although there’s nothing special for them to see, but to him, it means a little world. 

The next ten minutes, Mitsuya scurries around him like a bee collecting nectar from a flower. It's not uncomfortable, although he is in the center of the man's attention.

"Alright. You're ready to go now." Mitsuya gives his shoulder a light pat, smile pleased and calm. Then he walks over tot he next model and does some last minute fixes, before they are ordered to get into line. Kazutora is right in front of Hakkai, which is comforting and stressing in equal parts. He is way better than him and the audience will notice the difference immediately, but it’s nice to have someone familiar at his back – and Hakkai will draw all attention to himself anyway.

They are at the end oft he line, with Hakkai bearing the honor of the last position. Everyone knows that this is reserved for the main piece of the show, so he really mustn’t fuck this up. 

"Break a leg. I know you can do this!" Hakkai reassures him with a gentle grin. And then, the show begins.

The music is a crossover of classical elements like a violin and popular pop with a catchy beat. It fits the elegant but modern style of Mitsuya’s collection. One by one, the models in front of him enter the runway, leaving twenty second breaks in between. The part of the song where Kazutora is supposed to start his walk draws nearer and nearer.

He tries to calm himself down, counting the seconds in between. Breaths in and out. Focuses on the people out there who actually root for him. Chooses the future, instead of the past.  

He can do this. Even with that sucker from before lingering somewhere in this crowd, he can do this.

Suddenly, the guy in front of him starts to walk and for a moment, Kazutora is frozen in place, fingers digging into the flesh of his own hands, but as soon as he recognizes that certain note in the music, his legs start to move on their own.

It’s bright. The flashy lights nearly blind him, but he wills his face into a blank mask and just tries to take one step after another.

It’s hot. The air is stuffy and he can feel the weight of a hundredth different pairs of eyes on his body, staring, judging, urging to touch and control. Somehow, he is briefly looking for Shuji in the crowd, a smug grin flashing up at him, Sin and Punishment wrapped around a box of cigarettes and a lighter. 

But he’s nowhere to be seen. Kazutora barely recognises anyone or anything in the crowd, but he knows exactly that Kei and Chifuyu are looking at him. He can even picture their faces; Keisuke’s proud grin that shows his right canine; Chifuyu’s genuinely amazed expression, with bright eyes and the widest smile.

The mere thought nearly twists his lips into the hint of a small smile and although he still feels unwell with all of that attention, he can stomach it. 

When he reaches the end of the runway, he remains there for nearly ten seconds and tries his best to present Mitsuya’s hard work appropriately.

Hoshino comes into his vision, seated in the front row to his left. From what Kazutora can tell, he looks very pleased, chin resting on his fist while he watches him with an appreciative smile. It’s strange, but the tingle of excitement in his chest might be something like a spark of pride in himself.

When he turns around to walk back and finish his walk, he is painfully aware of the row of designers he has to pass now. They always have the privilege of the better seats and although he keeps his gaze straightly forward, Kazutora knows that this sleazy guy is somewhere between them, watching him like a hawk.

An unpleasant, hot shiver rushes down his spine, followed by a wave of cold and it’s an automatism for his stomach to twist, heart missing a painful beat, but he swallows down the bitter bile in his throat and proudly raises his chin, refusing to let that affect him and his performance. He can fucking do this! No one will stop him, neither Shuji, nor that loser designer. They can all go to hell, for all he cares! 

This is his new beginning, and he will not let it be taken away from him.

It works. The step he nearly misses doesn’t throw him off balance and he actually manages to walk back without fucking it up. 

The stone that is lifted from his shoulders as soon as he reaches the backstage area is heavy like the mount everest and his legs tremble slightly under the pressure, but he made it. He actually made it.

Hakkai gives him a thrilled grin when he follows soon after, but they only have a short break to catch a breath: the designer still needs to make his appearance and earn his well deserved praise. 

Guarded by all of his models, Mitsuya walks over the runway under a massive wave of applause, but his gentle smile is far from arrogant; it’s confident, but in a pleasantly down to earth way. He is really someone to admire and again, Kazutora can’t help but feeling calm in his presence.

It’s truly an honor being allowed to be part of this man’s work. 

The rest of the spotlight belongs mainly to Mitsuya and, to no one’s surprise, Hakkai. Since he wore the main piece, everyone’s fluttering around the pair, bombarding them with questions about the fabric and stitch techniques Mitsuya used, which he answers with polite calmness.

Maybe his outfit would be of interest as well, but Kazutora avoided to be drawn into the center of attention by quietly vanishing into the dressing room right away. He’ll apologize to Mitsuya later, but today is absolutely not the day he will present himself to the waiting crowd. Not with that sleazy guy out there. 

Choosing a hidden space in the far left corner, where the rest of the models barely notice him, he quickly changes into a dark sweater with a very lose fit and tight, ripped jeans of equal color. 

“Your outfit says that you’re not planning to join the aftershow party.” 

Startled, Kazutora turns around, body stiff like a board. With wide eyes he looks at Hoshino as if being caught in the act of doing something forbidden. “I – ”

Hoshino answers with bright laughter and it’s hard to not flinch when he grabs his shoulder to squeeze it. “Calm down, it’s fine. There isn’t anyone important at today’s show who won’t trust my judgment, but for future shows, I’ll need you to do some networking on your own. We’re not always surrounded by friends and the model business is a shark tank.”

His white teeth flash up in an amused grin, but Kazutora knows about the truth in his words and carefully nods. His heart still races in his chest, but the tension slowly floats out of his body like oil. 

“We’re also going to need to work on your pacing a little, but for your first walk, you totally slayed and no one noticed anyway. Everyone was blown away by your pretty face and that outfit really brought out your beautiful eye color. Mitsuya can be lucky to have you, this suit and you are a match made in heaven.”

It’s hard to follow his flood of words and the compliments make his chest ache, but leave a pleasant sensation afterwards. Maybe it’s relief. Maybe it’s even a little sheepish pride, but he really doesn’t want to disappoint this man and it’s nice to fulfill his expectations.

“Thanks…,” he mumbles quietly, unsure how to respond to all of that. Usually, Shuji was the one to get the praise. 

“Have fun with the rest of your evening. I’’ll be talking to some friends and get you some nice, new jobs. It’s going to be a piece of cake after tonight’s show.” The self-assured smile that Hoshino throws at him isn’t one to argue with, so Kazutora just nods, tries to manage a small smile himself, and then heads for the back door for some fresh air.

A deep sigh falls from his lips and the solid door in his back gives him some reassurance. For a few minutes, he just stands there alone, processing the past hours he spent inside. 

It was a real rollercoaster of emotions and he was only inches away from turning his back to this whole thing, but somehow he managed to pull through. Despite the odds, he actually did it and it’s nice to have accomplished something once in his life. 

It might not be a big deal in the greater picture, but…it’s a start.

Another quiet sigh escapes his throat and he digs out a cigarette first, before he turns to his phone. He can already tell that there are a few messages and missed calls before he even takes a look at the display.

With a soft smile, he opens the first chat and sends a message to Kei without even bothering to read his different varieties of ‘Where the fuck are you?”

Meet me outside, he types and sends the same message to Chifuyu. They are the two people he really wants to see right now. 

“There you fucking are! We’ve been looking for you everywhere, but it’s impossible to find someone in that crowd. Couldn’t even ask that bastard Mitsuya, since he’s been handled like a damn movie star right now and most of these fashion guys looked at us as if we’re bugs or something.” Keisuke rolls his eyes in annoyance, crossed arms undermining his point and it says a lot that he even came today. 
He totally isn’t made for such a superficial environment and couldn’t care less about the fashion industry. Which actually makes two of them, but it’s the only world Kazutora has ever found a place inside. Not necessarily a comfortable one, but a place to stay is still a place to stay.  

“Yeah. That’s exactly why I sneaked my way outside. I hate these aftershow parties,” Kazutora agrees with a lop-side grin.

“Okay, yes, but can we talk about how absolutely amazing this show was?” Chifuyu now chimes in, eyes brimming with excitement. “I mean, to hell with that arrogant attitude of these fashion dudes, but Mitsuya’s outfits looked so good and you totally blew them away!”

“Yep, I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you looked fucking amazing and I loved that resting bitch face.” Keisuke gives him a mischievously proud grin that reminds him of the good old days when they did shit like setting a car on fire or throwing rocks at them. “Looked as if you don’t give a fuck about any of that shit, but can totally get away with it.”

“You looked like a real model out there! I mean, you basically are, but… it totally felt like in one of those movies.” Chifuyu looks genuinely amazed and the light blush on his cheeks makes him very kissable, but they need to save that for later.

“You mean the movies that nobody watches but you." Kazutora teases him, which is easier to handle than the rush of compliments. He can take and even appreciate them when it’s these two, but doesn’t feel comfortable to rest there too long. 

“Shut up! You also watch them with me, voluntarily mind you, so your opinion doesn't count!"

It’s their usual playful bickering and for a moment, he even forgets that Keisuke is still with them – until he adds his own comment to the conversation.

“You can always come to my place, you know. I have a better taste in movies and beer in the fridge.” His challenging grin doesn’t reveal any resentment, although Kazutora still feels bad whenever he is reminded about the hide and seek game they played behind his back, but that seems to be his problem to deal with. 

“I hate you both!” Chifuyu tells them through a laugh. “But can we count that as an invitation? Or do you want to go to a bar or something?”

“Nah, my place is fine. Let’s drink some beer and watch a real movie!”

Chifuyu rolls his eyes to that, but his smile never falters and when he turns to Kazutora to check on him, there’s something gentle in it. “Are you in? Or do you have something else in mind?”

“No. Watching a real movie sounds great,” Kazutora replies with an equally teasing grin like Keisuke, but deep down, he really appreciates the underlying concern. Chifuyu really does know him well by now…

The rest of the evening is a harsh contrast to the fashion show. Instead of champagne and overly expensive appetizers, there are bottles of cheep beer and a bag of chips they share brotherly. 

Keisuke decided for a low budged horror movie and although the effects are really bad and the zombies look about as threatening as a harmless fly, Chifuyu flinches very cutely at every unexpected sound and even grabs his arm at one of the jumpscare scenes.  

If they were alone, he’d totally make a move now and distract him with a teasing comment and kiss afterwards, but this is fine either way. (He does makes a mental note to watch a horror movie with Chifuyu soon though. His reactions are just too cute.) 

With Keisuke to his left, who laughs heartily about the really bad splatter scenes and Chifuyu to his right side, who tries his hardest to hide his cute scaredy-cat tendencies, he feels perfectly at ease. 

Or maybe the warm feeling in his chest is what others would call happiness... but who is he to know that.

Chapter Text

Chifuyu is nervous. 

Objectively speaking, there is absolutely no reason for that. This isn’t a date (a sentence he’s been telling himself way too often these past weeks) and nothing special will happen, but… his heart still messes with him, doing funny things in his chest.

It’s a common thing when he deals with Kazutora, but lately, it’s been getting a bit out of hand. In a damn-I-just-want-to-kiss-him-way. Without the sex that follows after. Just a harmless kiss that asks for nothing more.     

He discussed this matter in his head over and over again, silencing his inappropriate wishes with the sober reality, but he just can’t help but to dream a little. 

Of course, he doesn’t push Kazutora to do anything and keeps himself perfectly in check, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the feeling dwelling up in his chest whenever he sees the gorgeous man with the tiger tattoo and the bell earring.

“Where are we going?” Kazutora asks from somewhere close behind his back. “If I didn’t know you, I’d say you have shady things in mind…” 

Chifuyu can hear the smirk even before he turns his head to tell him, “Just a few more minutes. Trust me, it’s totally worth it!” He throws Kazutora a bright smile and focuses on the narrow path in front of him again.

They are on their way to one of his favorite spots in town, near the Kamogawa river. It’s perfect to take some time off and relax – or watch the prettiest sunsets in Kyoto.

At first, it was just a fleeting idea he waved aside as stupid, but it kept popping up in Chifuyu’s mind, so he finally turned it into a solid plan. He isn’t sure if it’s really Kazutora’s thing, but then again, he can’t imagine that someone ever took him to a picnic – let alone watch a sunset with him.

“Tadaa. There we are.” Stretching out his arms in a welcoming gesture, he guides Kazutora to a spot of green at the base of a gnarled weeping willow. It rests on top a small elevation and gives a nice view over the river that meanders towards the horizon. The low branches add a nice feeling of privacy and add a cozy touch. 

“We came here for… a tree?” Kazutora’s clearly amused smile really has no business of looking so damn good on him.

“The tree. The river. The scenery.” Chifuyu gestures towards the beautiful view, refusing to acknowledge Kazutora’s obvious tease. “It’s my favorite place to relax and I swear, the sunset looks magical here!”

“Do you even take time to relax?”

Chifuyu rolls his eyes to that, but can’t help to laugh. “Oh, shut up!” 

He slumps down on the soft grass and drags his backpack into his lap to reveal two leftover sandwiches, a chocolate croissant and a lemon cheesecake muffin. That’s one of the benefits of working at a coffee shop: you can always hope to cadge some tasty leftovers. 

Chifuyu places them on a bento wrap cloth and adds two cans of green tea and beer for later. A bento box stuffed with sliced apples, pears and bananas finishes the small picnic he prepared. It’s nothing special, but enough to have a nice snack together.  

Kazutora watches him in silence and only when he’s done preparing everything he asks with a lopsided grin, “Wow, d’you come here with all of the guys you give shelter for free?”

“Only with the ones who give me lame nicknames all the time.” Chifuyu teases back.

“Lucky me that you took me here anyway, since I’ve only ever given you pretty cool nicknames.”

Chifuyu just laughs to that and shoves one of the cans into Kazutora’s lap. “Here, Mr. Pretty Cool Nicknames. Let’s drink to your success!”

A whiff of insecurity flashes through Kazutora’s grin, only for the friction of a second, but it quickly returns to its usual smuness. “Can’t refuse such a pretty boy, can I?” The wink he gives him does something to Chifuyu and he shakes his head not only to hide his blushing cheeks, but his quiet chuckle betrays him.

Yes, he is totally whipped for this man.

They fall into easy chatter, munching on the sandwiches first. Chifuyu learned that Kazutora likes the ones with egg the most, so he made sure to pick one of these and leave it for him. 

“I discovered this place during a heavy rainfall, when I tried to take shelter,” Chifuyu explains wistfully and takes a sip of green tea. 

“I heard that umbrellas are pretty good to do that job too,” Kazutora teases with that very kissable grin and Chifuyu just rolls his eyes, smile plastered to his lips.

“Shut up!” He gives Kazutora’s shoulder a playful punch, who just widens his grin. 

If this were a shoujo manga, he could easily pull him into a kiss now and feel that grin on his lips, but Chifuyu doesn’t want to turn this into sex. He just wants to have a nice picnic with no expectations in between – but he also longs for intimacy, in the most innocent way. 

In a way that’s meant for lovers…

“But it’s a nice view indeed,” Kazutora rips him out of his train of thoughts. “I can’t deny that. So thanks to your old self for forgetting your umbrella and thanks to your current self for bringing me here.” Kazutora gives him another grin, but it’s soft around the edges and it’s enough for his heart to throw another party in his chest.

I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Chifuyu wants to tell him. I’ve fallen in love with that small smile you show when you’re genuinely happy and the way your eyes lighten up when Peke J chooses to sit on your lap and your bright laughter when you’re bickering with Baji and the little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you draw with concentration and all the little things I notice everyday – and it just makes me happy to be with you. And look at you. And talk to you. Kiss you. 

It lingers on the tip of his tongue, only a fleeting heartbeat away, but he never mustered the courage to say it out aloud. 

It’s obvious though, isn’t it…?

Too caught up with his own mind, Chifuyu doesn’t really answer and just gives him a small smile, eyes glued to the can in his hands. Slowly, he spins it around, trying to distract himself, but it’s in vain. He just – can’t get it out of his head. 

“Kazutora…” Quietly, his name slips through his lips and a part inside wants him to not catch it, but golden eyes take him into focus immediately. Of course, he heard him and Chifuyu’s nervousness skyrockets in record time.

He doesn’t have to tell him. He can still back down, again, but deep down he doesn’t want to keep quiet anymore. 

He has to put the cards on the table. For his own sanity and to keep things fair. He owes that to Kazutora.

“I – really like you,” he mumbles hastily, tongue stumbling over the words in his mouth. His cheeks are growing hot enough to fry a steak and he can’t even look Kazutora in the eye. “In a not friendship kind of way, but rather – ” He stops himself with a soft sigh and a sheepish smile plays around his lips. “I think I’ve fallen in lo – ”

“No.” Kazutora’s tone is sharp like a knife. “No. Shut up!” 

It’s like a slap to the face. Shocked, Chifuyu looks up to him. Stares into relentless pools of gold that are close to desperation, until wrath takes over in the blink of an eye. 

“You know nothing about me! So stop this bullshit.” Kazutora turns his gaze away from him, crushing the remains of the sandwich between his fingers. Chifuyu can nearly grasp his tension with bare hands.

Carefully, he picks out his next words, choosing the soothing tone he would use for Peke J if he was hurt. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you or push you into a corner with this, Kazutora. I still don’t expect anything from you and it doesn’t change a thing. It’s just – I wanted to tell you. Because you make me feel so happy and when I’m with you – ”

“I told you to shut up!” Kazutora interrupts him sharply. “How the fuck do you even came up with this? You don’t know shit! And if you did, you wouldn’t even think about telling me this crap.”

“Talk to me, then. Give me a chance to get to know the real you. Because I do think that I’ll like it.” He sounds nearly as desperate as him, but where Kazutora’s voice is harsh, his is soft around the edges.

“Please, don’t make me laugh.” The words are heavy with bitterness. “I fucking told you to leave me alone with this, but of course, you won’t listen.” He clenches his fists hard enough that Chifuyu fears he will draw blood, but he doesn’t dare to reach out and loosen his grip.

The silence that follows is dreadful and although it only lasts for a few seconds, it’s nearly impossible to bear. The way Kazutora breaks it, however, is beyond anything he could have imagined.

“I nearly killed someone,” he says darkly, tone awfully calm. “Did you know that? Did you know that I went into prison? That I’m a convicted criminal?” His voice grows louder and louder and the last sentence comes out as a reproachful hiss. “Ask Keisuke, if you don’t believe me!”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen. He can’t bring out a single world, let alone form a coherent thought. 

“Yeah, I thought so. No one wants to be with a fucking murderer so spare me this bullshit.” His voice is an icy blizzard. It sounds like a final judgment, without any room to argue.

Clad in coldest anger, Kazutora gets to his feet. 

“Kazutora – ”

“What?” Fiercely, he turns to him. His clenched fist shakes with the effort of keeping his emotions at bay. “What do you want from me now?”

Chifuyu opens his mouth, but still not a single words comes out. His thoughts are tangled in a tight knot and all he can hear is the blood rushing through his ears and his own racing heartbeat. 

A snort of deepest disdain escapes Kazutora’s lips. “See? I told you.”

“Wait!” Chifuyu struggles to his feet as well, uselessly reaching out a hand to him, but it’s not only the forty inches in between that separate them; it’s an ocean of contradicting feelings. 

“Leave me alone.”

“But – ”

“What, do you need me to spell it out for you? I want you to leave me alone!” Kazutora lashes out, taking a heavy step towards him with a wide gesture, only a heartbeat away from literally pushing him back. “This isn’t one of your damn romance stories, so wake up! I’m as fucked up as someone can be, what else do you need?”

“I – I just – ”

“What, want to understand it? Know more?” Kazutora rips the words out of his mouth and twists them until they sound like nothing but cruel mockery. Then, there’s a sudden change in his tone and it’s far worse than the heated yelling. 

It sounds hollow and bitter. Like utter defeat. 

“I’m a walking disaster. That’s all you need to know. So cut it out. You don’t actually like me. You can’t. Because you don’t know shit.” Kazutora raises his chin before dealing his last blow with firm, calculated words. “You just like fucking me. That’s it.”

Chifuyu wants to argue. Needs to argue, but everything happens so fast and Kazutora already leaves the scene with curt and rushed steps and he doesn’t know what to do first. What to think first. 
So he just stares in utter disbelief like a useless fool and yells Kazutora’s name, tries to make him stop, but it’s a useless attempt like trying to fight a fire with a single drop of rain. Or maybe he even mistook water for oil. Maybe there is no way to kill this fire right now.


He can’t tell how long he just stands there, still staring at the spot where Kazutora had been only minutes ago. Everything about this feels unreal. As if it happened in a movie and not in real life, but the heavy stone in his guts tells a different story.

Kazutora’s words still echo through his ears like a cruel mantra, jumping from one horrifying sentence to another and nothing about this makes any sense; but he always lands on that one unimaginable statement. 

He can’t possibly – did he really… try to kill…? 

Even thinking it out loud seems impossible, but the way he spoke left no room for doubt. No room for any reasonable reaction either. 

Shit… how did all of this even happen? Chifuyu just wanted to be true about his feelings – and evoked a real hurricane of destruction.

Yes, he even expected some kind of shock or resistance. He knows Kazutora well enough to be prepared for a first short-circuit reaction. But this? This is way beyond anything he could have imagined.

Numbly, Chifuyu packs his stuff while the prettiest sunset unfolds behind his back, made to be watched in comfortable silence with a person you hold dear, but today, it goes unnoticed.

He wants to tell himself that there’ll surely be another opportunity, but he can’t get the way Kazutora looked at him out of his mind. It resembled a haunted tiger, fighting in blind panic for its life. 

But it’ll be okay. This isn’t the first time that Kazutora fled from a situation with him and he always showed up again after a while. He just needs some time to cool off. They both do. 

With a restless heart, Chifuyu heads back home. It doesn’t surprise him to find his flat empty, except for Peke J who greets him at the door, oblivious of the disaster that took place just half an hour ago. He does wonder if his cat secretly looks for Kazutora or wonders where the man might be, but maybe that’s just him projecting. 

“He wasn’t home, huh?” Chifuyu says with a sad smile on his lips and pats Peke J’s head, checking his apartment for signs of him. His shoes and jacket are nowhere to be seen and when Chifuyu enters the living room, his heart sinks to the floor.

“No…,” he murmurs to himself as an icy fist wraps around his heart and wrings it like a towel. 

Kazutora’s suitcase isn’t here anymore.

Hectically, he starts to rush through the room, throwing his pillows carelessly aside, although it’s a silly place to look for it in the first place. Deep down, he already knows he won’t find it in the kitchen, nor in the living room, his bathroom, bedroom or at the balcony, but he still searches everywhere.

Exhausted, he eventually sinks down at the couch, burying his face in his trembling hands for a second. This doesn’t mean anything , he tries to calm himself down. Kazutora just needs – some space…

But that awful feeling in his chest, weighing it down like a pitch-black rock, whispers a different story. One that is perfect food for the lurking fear that tries to take over, but he refuses to give in. 

He will come back… Chifuyu is more than convinced. 

With a deep sigh, he tries to get rid of his tension, fingers busy searching for the phone in his pockets – and then he spots it underneath the coffee table. Kazutora’s sketchbook.

He actually left it here…

A flicker of hope ignites his chest and he carefully pulls it into his lap, just to be sure. With gentle fingertips, he brushes over the pages, flipping it open after one, two, three hesitating heartbeats. 

The familiar sight of Kazutora’s sketches fills him with relief, but there’s also a faint ache in his chest when he recognizes the scenery. He captured Chifuyu’s side profile during a moment at the coffee shop while he prepared an order. Once again he feels a faint blush on his cheeks due to the very flattering way Kazutora drew him – but the fresh memory of their argument adds a bitter note. 

With a torn smile, Chifuyu closes the sketchbook, trying to remind himself what great sign of trust it represents and that Kazutora would never abandon it. His heart sinks a little, however, when he types a quick message, just asking for a sign that he is okay, that isn’t even delivered.

It shouldn't surprise him, and before Chifuyu tries to make a call he already knows the outcome, but it's still like a stab to the heart when an automated voice announces that the number is unavailable at the moment.

Biting his lower lip, he ponders his options. He doubts that Kazutora will come back anytime soon and has no clue where to even start looking for him. Besides, he obviously wants some distance now… but sitting here and doing nothing isn’t an option either. 

So, with a deep sigh on his lips, he finally picks up his phone again and scrolls through his contacts until he finds the only person who can help him now.

“Hey,” Chifuyu starts the conversation as soon as the call is taken. “Is Kazutora with you?”

In the short pause that follow he can practically see how Baji raises his eyebrows. “No.”

The tiny grain of hope that despite his common sense dwelled somewhere in his heart, dies right away. 

Chifuyu grimaces. 

“...I think I fucked up.”

It only takes him about ten rushed minutes to appear at Baji’s doorstep. His friend greets him with furrowed brows and a ton of questions written all over his face, but lets him step inside first.

Two bottles of beer are already waiting in the living room, to which Chifuyu only smiles weakly.

“So,” Baji grumbles without further ado. “What happened?” He makes a gesture towards the couch and Chifuyu sinks down onto the familiar cushion, juggling different words around in his mouth, but there’s no way to sugarcoat it.

“You know about my little crush…,” he finally gets out, looking anywhere but at Baji. There isn’t an answer, but he can feel the intense gaze of dark eyes on him, silently urging him to go on. “And I’m afraid it got a little out of hand.”

“...meaning?”

He presses his lips into a thin line. “I kind of confessed to Kazutora. But it totally rubbed him the wrong way and things got – nasty.” A joyless smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. “He told me to shut up and that I don’t know anything about him – and then he said something about nearly killing someone…”

“Wait, he what?”

Chifuyu forces himself to meet Baji’s shocked gaze, which is a perfect copy of his own expression when he heard it earlier and gives him a knowing smile. “He told me to ask you if I don’t believe him.”

“Of fucking course he did.” Exasperated, Baji pinches the bridge of his nose. “I am not the one who should tell you about this. He should do that himself,” he stated darkly and a bone deep sigh escapes his throat. “But god knows that he won’t. He’ll just drop such a bomb and leave you behind to pick up the pieces yourself.”

With an annoyed click of his tongue, Baji gets to his feet and has Chifuyu visibly perplexed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll need more than just a single bottle of beer for this.”

Chifuyu can’t argue with that. 

Baji brings a whole six pack and throws himself into the spot next to Chifuyu. He gulps down half a bottle on one go and uses his fingers to absentmindedly comb through his hair. It’s a gesture that might indicate nervousness, which isn’t a word he’d ever associate with Baji and only adds to his own growing unease. 

With a deep exhale, Baji stretches out his legs, gaze pointed towards the ceiling. “Tora didn’t lie to you,” he finally grumbles. “He did nearly kill someone.” While Chifuyu’s heart skips a beat full of disbelief, Baji defensively shakes his head. “But there is way more to this than you might think at first glance.”

Frowning, he looks at the bottle in his hands, slowly turning it around. “We were twelve. Stupid kids with stupid ideas. His family wasn’t what you’d call a loving home and before we met, Tora didn’t have any real friends either – only some kids who took advantage of the fact that his father got some money. So he really tried hard to belong.” Baji stops his movements, eyes still set to an undefined point at the bottle. “We had something like a gang and when our leader’s birthday came up, Tora wanted to get him the best birthday present ever: a motherfucking bike.” A quiet snort slips through his lips and he slightly shakes his head. “It’s so ridiculous when you think about it – we were twelve! And I wasn’t really convinced at first, but when Tora showed it to me, his face really brightened up and somehow, I couldn’t say no. I was just as thrilled as he was. Which is so fucking stupid, in hindsight.” Another shake of his head is followed by a huge sip of beer. Baji wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand, before he continues.

“We decided to steal it. I nearly pissed my pants when we broke into the store, but there was no turning back at this point. At first, everything went well, but when I was trying to loosen the safety chain, someone stepped in, catching me in the act – and Tora immediately jumped in to help me. The guy who caught me had a huge wrench in his hand, so he didn’t think twice and swung the bolt cutter he collected to break the chain. He just wanted to protect me! But it hit the guy’s head – and he didn’t move afterwards. Kazutora nearly lost it at this point. We really thought the guy was dead and, to make things worse, I realized who the fucking guy was: our leaders brother. Who wanted to gift him the motherfucking bike we tried to steal for him. Everything about this was so fucked up!” Driven by old desperation, Baji clenches his fists and teeth. His tone is dark, but sober, when he picks up the thread again.

“The rest felt like a movie. There was police, an ambulance, a crowd of onlookers – the whole damn package. We were both in some state of shock, but Tora was in a way worse condition than I was, mumbling confusing shit to himself. I mean, we really thought that we killed the older brother of our leader – but even when we heard that he’d survive, things didn’t look too bright. It was still a killing attempt.”

Baji presses his lips into a thin line, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“During the trial that followed, Tora, that idiot, took all the blame on himself, although I was involved as well. But his parents could afford the better lawyer and even though I tried to tell the truth, they stuck to the fucked up version Tora presented, in which he manipulated me and tried to use me for his own gain. It was the ‘least damaging option’, they said.” Baji spits out the words with visible disdain. “I was so mad at everyone, especially when Tora’s bastard of a father said that it’d teach him a valuable lesson. How fucked up can a parent even be?” Exasperated, he gestures wildly into the air. “But when the verdict was announced, Kazutora gave me that bright smile, saying how glad he is that I got off scot-free – while he was sentenced to two years in juvie. Alone.” The way Baji grits his teeth looks painful. “That stupid idiot…even back then, he didn’t allow me to protect him, always trying to shoulder everything alone.” Gloomily, Baji adds, “I set three cars on fire that day, cursing him, the whole damn world, but most of all, I cursed myself. But I swore to him, that I’d never let him down.” 

He makes a short pause to let everything sink in or catch a breath himself. While Baji downs the rest of his first beer and immediately grabs a second bottle, Chifuyu still clings to his first one. It’s untouched, nearly forgotten in his fingers. He is far too caught up in Baji's words. Compared to them, everything else seems unimportant. 

It sounds unbelievable. Like the plot of an exciting thriller and nothing that would ever happen in the real world, but the constrictive weight on his chest tells a different story.

He tries to imagine what it must feel like. Being twelve years old and dealing with such a… mess. Even an adult would be pushed to the limits and beyond, but a kid? Without any support from its parents, in Kazutora’s case?

Chifuyu’s throat tightens and the compassion that floods him is nearly unbearable.

“When he got out after two years, things were different,” Baji continues sternly. “Juvie changed him and it felt like he got even more secretive, hiding everything behind his stupid smile and his teasing comments. Things got even more difficult when his mom sent him to a boarding school soon after. It was hard to stay in contact, but after a year and a half, he got kicked out and returned to live with his mom again. We met more often, but things weren’t the same and Tora tried his hardest to stay away from my gang friends. Hell, he didn’t even tell me when he moved out from his mom’s place!” Baji shakes his head as if to get rid of a certain thought. “He was sixteen at this point and I can’t tell you where he slept most nights. Sometimes he crashed at my place, but it became rarer and rarer. He always said that there’s nothing to worry about, but it was obvious that he was lying. You can see the parallels now, can’t you? Nothing really changed since then.” Baji throws him a short side-glance, but doesn’t really wait for a response. 

“At one point, that bastard Hanma came into the picture. His ex boyfriend.” He grits his teeth as if he wants to crush something between them. “Tora didn’t tell me much about him, but when we met, it was mutual antipathy at first glance. I could tell from ten miles away that this asshole is shady as fuck, but Tora wouldn’t listen and the more I tried to talk sense into him, the more he backed away from me.” A hint of regret colors his tone, clad in frustration. “When I moved to Kyoto, things got even more complicated. Whenever we met, he seemed to hide more and more things from me and talking about his relationship to Hanma was off limits.” 

“Things escalated when I visited last year. But you already know that.” Baji throws him another grim side-glance, tone sharp with acid when he continues. “That asshole of a so-called boyfriend invited me to spend a night with some of his friends and Tora. It was obvious that Tora didn’t feel comfortable with that idea, but he didn’t argue, which was strange enough. I, obviously, rather wanted to go to a fucking dentist appointment than spending my time with that asshole, but I did it for Tora.” He presses his lips into a tight line. 

“It was even worse than what I imagined. Tora acted like a totally different person around this asshole, doing literally everything to please him – but his friends were even worse. They treated him like – ” Baji makes a gruff gesture, looking for the right words. “Like an object. Something to toy around and have fun with.” He practically spits out the words. “The line was crosses when one of these bastard friends asked Hanma if he would lend Tora to him for a night or two. As if he was that asshole’s property! And said asshole had the audacity to chuckle and say, ‘No, you couldn’t afford that. But you can look and maybe touch a little, if Tora doesn’t mind.’ I will never forget that slimy grin or how he let his hand slide underneath Tora’s shirt, before mumbling loud enough in his ear for fucking everyone to hear, ‘You wouldn’t mind, would you tiger? For my friends…’ I literally saw how Tora struggled for an answer while these bastards around him were obviously quite amused – and that’s when I lost it.” Baji’s face grows dark as if he is ready to commit murder. 

“I yelled at them to keep their filthy hands to themselves and snapped at Tora to follow me outside. The way he looked at Hanma as if to ask for permission made me even more furious!” His old anger still boils inside and Baji’s frustration is nearly tangible with hands. “It got really nasty afterwards. I yelled at him what the fuck this shit is about and Tora just shrugged, pretending he didn’t know what I meant. I lost it a second time and called him out on being a deluded idiot when it comes to Hanma and that he should finally wake up and get away from this bastard. Kazutora yelled back at me that I don’t understand shit and should leave him alone if I’m only here to judge. I told him that I’m not here to judge but to help him and that I won’t just stand by watching how this bastard destroys his life. Tora told me to shut up and that he doesn’t need my help or ever asked for it. I yelled back, ‘Fine, if that’s what you want, I can just fuck off and leave you alone in your misery!’.” 

Baji exhales deeply, tone rough and gloomy when he continues, “I could tell that it hit him and I’m really not proud of it, but I was just so fucking angry, because nothing seemed to get through! And Tora didn’t back down either. He screamed, ‘Fine for me, just leave, then!’ but his eyes were glossy and there was that certain edge in his voice, so I looked him straight in the eye and said, ‘I’m your friend, Tora. I just want – ’, but he didn’t even let me finish my sentence, snapping, ‘Fuck off and leave me alone already! I don’t need you and your stupid preaches!’ And I couldn’t keep it in either and shot back, ‘Great, I don’t need you and your fucking attitude either! But don't come crying to me when that bastard is done with you and dumps you like garbage!’. It was a disaster and my throat hurt from yelling afterwards. Of course, I tried to reach him again after cooling down a little, but Tora blocked my number and – you know the rest.” 

Baji falls silent and Chifuyu needs a moment to let everything sink in. He still remembers vividly how Baji returned after the argument with his best friend, but he had no idea what lay behind. 

The worst part is, that he can totally imagine the scenery Baji described; Kazutora fits perfectly into this picture and his stomach twists when he just thinks about the incident. It’s obvious how much Baji cares and that he wanted nothing more but the best for Kazutora, but Chifuyu knows first hand how hard it is to earn the man’s trust – and even then it’s hard for him to accept any help, let alone something good in his life. 

He chose the worst…because deep down, he thinks that’s what he deserves. 

“I don’t really know what to say…but that’s a lot to deal with. For both of you.” Chifuyu’s voice is gentle when he breaks the silence between them, giving Baji his best version of a compassionate smile.

“Yeah. And it’s not really surprising for this to happen either,” he answers roughly and gestures towards Chifuyu. “Don’t take it personally, Chifuyu. The closer you get to him, the more he’ll push you away.”

A rational part of him understands. Considering all the things he had to deal with in his youth, it’s only natural that Kazutora has a hard time letting people in, but the taste on his tongue is bitter like bile. 

“Do you think he’ll come back…?” He eventually dares to ask, voice quiet, nearly shy. “He took his suitcase with him… and turned off his phone.” Chifuyu swallows dry, but the bitter taste remains. 

Baji gives him a watchful glance. “My honest opinion? I don’t know. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t. Last time, I didn’t hear from him for more than half a year and wasn’t sure if I ever would again. So don’t count on it, Chifuyu.”

His heart sinks, although the answer is exactly what he expected. Deep down, it’s what he thought for himself, but hearing it from Baji adds something final to it.

“Don’t feel bad.” There lies something unexpectedly soft in Bajis voice. “This isn’t your fault. In a way, it was bound to happen. I didn’t really expect him to stay here forever. I wanted to… but a tiny grain of doubt always remained.” A quiet sigh slips through his lips. “In the past, I would’ve turned every pebble in the city now to find him.” Baji smiles grimly. “But I’ve learned my lesson. He’ll come back if he wants to and if he doesn’t – ” The way he grits his teeth shows his own struggles. “There’s no option but to respect his choice.”

“But – ”

“No. Don’t even think about it. I’ve been through this more often than you think,” Baji interrupts him firmly, before he can even come up with a reasonable objection. “Sorry. But this is exactly why I warned you about him. He has a heart of gold…but getting attached to him will only hurt you.” Something bitter sneaks into his grim expression. “And the worst part is, that he doesn’t even mean any harm. That makes it so fucking hard to stay mad at him.”

It sounds like an irrefutable verdict and although Chifuyu wants to argue, he can’t. Bringing Baji to this point, who fights fiercely like a lion for his friends, until the bitter end and beyond if necessary, speaks for itself.

But he just can’t give in so easily. There’s still a flicker of hope left inside. Kazutora isn’t out of his reach yet… and if all he can do is try one more time for him, so be it. 

For Baji, who tried all alone so often in the past. For himself, to not live with the regret of giving up without a fight. But most importantly for Kazutora, who deserves to know that he is worth every extra mile it takes.

Chapter Text

Kazutora is numb. Detached from reality. 

With dull eyes, he watches the landscape pass by, fingers aching for a cigarette. Unfortunately, he can’t afford to be thrown out since the train ticket was expensive enough already.

It happened on autopilot. Rushing to the apartment. Grabbing his suitcase he never really unpacked to begin with. Heading towards the station. Getting away, away, away.

Now, he forces himself to focus on what lies ahead. Not spend a single thought on where he came from and what he deliberately abandoned. He knows that this is final. That there’s no turning back. And deep down, Kazutora probably knew from the start that all of this was doomed to fail. 

Making it on his own was never an option. This was the only logical outcome. He just never seems to learn, always choosing the most painful path. The one that leaves cuts and bruises and more scars on his miserable heart.

It will take a while to burry these memories. Get used to the sharp pain in his chest that steals his breath away if, for a second, he fails to block it out. But he’ll get over it. He always does, somehow.

At least he can tell himself that it’s better this way. For everyone. 

For Kei. For Chifuyu.

…fuck.

Here they are again. 

These names hurt like a fresh wound and he digs his nails into his own flesh, counting numbers until the pain eases and he is back to feeling nothing.

He is such a pathetic loser, really.

The rest of the train ride passes in a flash and when the main station of Tokyo comes into sight, his heart sinks a little.

When he turned his back to this city, he swore to never return again. Not to stay, at least. But the first step he takes out of the train is like a match setting the bridge on fire he just chose to leave behind – and now, he’ll burn it down for good. 

There’s nothing to look forward to here and if he took a closer look inside, acknowledging the way his stomach turns into a tight knot, it would become obvious how anxious he actually is. 

But giving in isn’t an option. 

Without even really thinking about it, Kazutora heads for the only reasonable place. There isn’t a moment of hesitation or second guessing. It was obvious what would happen the second he decided to enter that train. 

Undecidedly, he digs out his phone for the nth time, shoving it back into his trousers without taking any action. This will be unpleasant to the max, no matter what he does – and showing up as a surprise is probably for the best. That way, he won’t be blocked out right away.

(The mere possibility is another thought he avoids like the plague.)

When he finally stands in front of the apartment complex, he feels sick to his stomach. Every inch of his body screams no, but he learned to ignore it years ago.

It’s cold outside. The wind rips at the seam of his tiger print jacket and the fingers clutched around his suitcase feel stiff. One arm wrapped around his slim body, he looks up at the building, trying to muster up the courage to press the damn bell. This is getting more and more pathetic. 

With gritted teeth and his heart in his mouth, he finally gets over with it, already bracing himself for the worst.

It takes one, two, three, four, five nerve-wracking seconds, before a bored but very familiar voice answer a curt, “Yes?”

Throat raspy like sand paper, he presses out, “It’s me...”

There’s a pause. An awful eternity where nothing happens and just when the rising panic in his system is about to make him do something stupid, like trying again, the sound of the automatic door opener rips him out of it.

Way too quickly, he slips through the door, out of an irrational fear to miss the right moment and be locked out. 
The entrance area didn’t change at all and immediately makes him feel out of place with its high walls and the expensive sculptures and plants framing the elevator. When he first stepped inside, he felt like conquering the world; now, he’d rather get back into that train and return to the place he just fled from, but that isn’t an option. This is his life. So he heads for the elevators and chooses the tenth floor. 

The door is ajar. Kazutora swallows down whatever weird feeling lies on the tip of his tongue and forces a small, remorseful smile onto his lips before he enters. The wheels of his suitcase make an obscenely loud noise on the high polished parquet floor, announcing his arrival in the most ungraceful way possible. 

“Well, hello there! What a surprise!” Shuji’s voice welcomes him right away, harboring no grudge or ill feels, but Kazutora is on guard. “It’s been a while, huh?”

The man he tried to avoid for the past months steps into sight, arms opened in a welcoming gesture. The lopsided grin he wears is a familiar sight, but he knows how fast things can change. 

“Hey…” Kazutora answers smally, clinging to his smile as well, but it’s like his heart is caught in a merciless iron grasp, making it hard to breath. 

A bright laugh falls from Shuji lips as if he just made a particularly funny joke. Kazutora’s throat tightens to that sound.

“What’s up with you, tiger? Why so shy?” Casually, he heads for the bar in the left corner. “Wanna have a drink?” Shuji throws him a brief glance over his shoulder, waiting for a reply. 

Kazutora is hesitant, unsure what to make of this. Shuji doesn’t seem mad at all, but he can tell it’s only on the surface. Underneath lies something dark and unpredictable and he’d rather not challenge it to break through. 

Nervously, he bites his lips, settling for a grateful, “Sure…”

Shuji, nodding to himself, gets out only one glass and pours in an amber liquid that is a shade darker than his eyes. “So. What brings you here?” The change in his tone is only subtle, amusement changing for dangerous boredom in the blink of an eye, but Kazutora is on edge immediately. 

“I – wanted to say sorry,” he blurts out. 

“Oh?” Shuji lifts one eyebrow in pretended surprise. “What for?”

“For leaving so suddenly. And – saying all of that nasty stuff to you and – blocking you out.” 

The words leave his mouth in a chopped rush and he nearly stumbles over his own tongue, desperate to not fuck this up.

Shuji face doesn’t reveal any emotions before he turns back to the liqueur. “Hmm, yeah, that was unfortunate indeed. I mean, you really had me worrying here for a second. But then again, I knew you’d come back to me, tiger.” The man throws him an awfully wide grin, glass resting lazily in his hand marked with Sin. “I know you just too well. It was just a matter of time.” Slowly, he brings the whiskey to his lips and takes a sip, not leaving him out of his focus for even a single heartbeat. 

“But you’re right. Saying all of that awful stuff to me and just running away wasn’t nice of you. Really hurt my feelings. So. How do you plan to make up for it…?” There’s an amused gleam in his eyes and they both know what he is aiming at – so Kazutora looses no time and reaches for the zipper of his jacket. 

It lands with a soft sound on the polished floor, followed by his dark shirt. An unpleasant shiver runs through his body under the intense weight of Shuji’s gaze, who gets down on the dark leather couch dominating the middle of the room. His apartment offers more than enough space to use is lavishly.

Kazutora knows how cold the leather feels on his skin and his fingernails surely left marks from the countless times he buried them deeply in the cushions, a sound of pleasure or despair or both on his lips. 

Today won’t be any different. 

Quietly, he moves towards Shuji, who sits in front of him like a king on his throne. Legs wide apart, he rests his head on a hand inked with Punishment, expression bored, yet expectant. The whiskey in his other hand is swirled in mild impatience. 

Kazutora finds his place between his thighs, putting one knee onto the couch for support. Despite his madly beating heart, he forces himself to make eye contact, lips slightly parted and lids lowered in an alluring way. 

He leans down, breathing a lie into Shuji’s ear. “I missed you…”

In reality, it’s someone else he misses. Someone else he wants to have underneath him. Someone with sunny blond hair and ocean green eyes, but he can’t. Mustn’t. 

Instead, he has to please the man in front of him in every way possible and hope that he’ll take him back. 

The kiss he presses onto Shuji’s neck is wet and messy. He sucks only a little, not daring to leave marks, but he covers all the spots that Shuji likes, kissing, licking, nibbling at the pale skin to keep his attention. 

Shuji doesn’t seem impressed, but he doesn’t make any attempts to shove him away either, so he just keeps going. With skilled fingers, he reaches for his belt, opening the buckle and the zipper in a swift movement. 

He doesn’t think. Doesn’t give any attention to the sickening feeling in his stomach; the fear nagging inside. He just follows the script to fit back into his role.

With bored eyes, Shuji watches how he gets down onto his knees, licking a wet stripe from the bottom of his length to the top. He is still fully dressed and won’t lift a single finger to make this any easier – or less humiliating. 

When he demonstratively gets out his phone to make a call, Kazutora’s heart sinks and he is eager to try even harder. Please him, please him, please him. It’s a cruel game. A sheer demonstration of power and deep down he knows that he deserves it. He is the one who fucked up. The one who ran away and now came back, crawling on his knees, begging to be let in again. 

And Shuji knows that he’s at his mercy. That there’s no other place for him to go. That he’ll do exactly as told, because as fucked up as life with Shuji is, at least it’s something stable. Something that will provide him a place to stay and enough money to get by without dragging anyone into his mess. Something he is used to; it’s so much easier to pay a price when you know the costs. 

Kazutora tries to relax his jaw, taking in as much as possible. He knows what Shuji likes. Knows how he thinks that tears look so pretty on his face. He has told him time and time again, whispered it into his ear as he brushed them away with his thumb; and Kazutora got addicted to his praises and gentle touches. It’s the epitome of carrot and stick. 

With relief he notes how Shuji’s breath slightly starts to get out of sync and he counts it as a good sign that he ends the call and sticks a cigarette between his lips instead. 

He still looks rather unimpressed, but they’re getting there. 
Lips wet with salvia, Kazutora releases him with a quiet popping sound. Spit dribbles down his chin and he resists the urge to wipe it clean in favor of shoving three fingers at once into his mouth. It must be a highly obscene sight how he swirls his tongue around each digit, keeping his gaze on Shuji the whole time.

It’s a show for him and only him and Kazutora is well aware that each movement is carefully judged by those amber eyes. 

Forcing out a soft moan, he pushes in a first finger, pretending it’s exactly what he wants, when in reality, it isn’t comfortable at all to work with spit instead of lube. But this isn’t supposed to be pleasant for him. It’s supposed to be an atonement. 

Slowly, he wraps his lips around the tip again, pressing his tongue against the slit. The taste of salty precum spreads in his mouth and he tries to keep his eyes at Shuji while he lowers his head down to take in more, fingers busy stretching himself open. 

The man in question takes a lazy drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke right into his face. Nothing betrays any of his emotions, but his rock hard cock is proof enough that it does has an effect on him – although he doesn’t let it show. 

“That’s enough.” Shuji orders after a while, expression blank and unyielding. Surprised, Kazutora immediately stops in his movement, suppressing a chocking noise when he quickly pulls back his head. His throat feels as if he swallowed a fistful of nails. 

Frozen like a rabbit facing a snake, he looks up at Shuji, heart slamming against his ribcage as if it wants to break out. He wills his face into a blank mask, trying to appear unaffected, but the seconds of silence that follow, even though it’s only a few, leave him on edge.

“Get onto my lap.” Shuji takes another sip of whiskey, but keeps his merciless gaze on him the whole time.

Unceremoniously, Kazutora slips out of his trousers and shorts first, before he climbs onto the couch, legs spread around the man sitting in the middle. Fingers wrapping around the waiting cock, he guides it towards his entrance without any hesitation. This will surely hurt, but he survived worse. 

He struggles a little at first, but sinks down without a noise of complaint. Instead, he forces out more sounds of arousal. 

Shuji still doesn’t lift a single finger, smoking, drinking, watching in silence while he starts to ride him in a slow rhythm, giving the man the show he wants and himself some time to adjust. Kazutora arches his back in fake pleasure, presses his eyelids together, moans as if he means it, fingers digging into the cold leather of the couch. 

Suddenly, there’s a movement. The half smoked cigarette wanders into the hand holding the glass; it’s Sin. Punishment reaches towards his body, finding its place on his hipbone as a relentless weight. It’s the first time that Shuji actually touches him.

A shiver runs down his spine and Kazutora opens his eyes, catches the gaze of dangerous amber eyes. 

“So, you missed me?” Shuji’s voice is calm like a frozen lake. 

“Yes…” he presses out through chopped breaths, not daring to stop in his movements. 

“How much did you miss me?” The grip around his hip tightens. Lazily, Shuji tilts his head as if he tries to read the answer in his expression.

Kazutora swallows, adam’s apple bobbing visibly. He doesn’t know what is expected of him, but Shuji fills in the silence before he can come up with something wrong. 

“Enough to finally trust me and do as I say?”

He knows exactly what Shuji is aiming at. An unpleasant wave of heat crawls up Kazutora’s body and he lowers his head, biting back the bitter taste of bile crawling up his throat. It’s not like he has a choice, but another piece of his dignity irretrievably dies when he weakly nods his head.

“...yes.”

The rest passes by without many emotions or passion. He rides Shuji through his orgasm with all the fake enthusiasm he can muster, but deep down, he is just glad to be done with that very humiliating experience. Or rather the first part of it. He is aware that he still needs to try harder. Show that he really means it. Desperately. 

So, despite the rough treatment and a body aching for a break, he scatters promising kisses onto Shuji’s neck and mumbles between two heavy breaths, “Wanna take another round in the shower…?” 

Shuji gives his chest a little push to make him back away and lifts an eyebrow as if he has to give it some thought.

“No,” he concludes. “I think it’s time for you to leave now.” His tone conveys no emotion, but it hits Kazutora like a bolt of lightning.

“What…?” he chokes out, still trying to comprehend the meaning of this.

“Get out. Now.” His voice is sharper now, a low warning that allows no objections, but Kazutora is way too dumbfounded to react properly.

“But – ”

“Do I honestly need to repeat myself?”

He flinches, quickly clambering out of Shuji’s lap as if he just got burned. With shaking fingers, he reaches for his clothes that are scattered on the floor like dirty rags. 

The playful atmosphere from before suddenly changed into something cold and merciless and Kazutora doesn’t dare to look up at him. 

“You didn’t actually believe that you could just show up out of nowhere and think it’d be done with a middle class blow job and a little wiggling of your hips, did you?” His voice is colored in scorn. “Do you have a clue how much money I lost because of the little stunt you pulled here? All of the jobs I had to cancel, because you suddenly decided to be a difficult brat?” 

Kazutora, who just slipped into his jacket, obediently shakes his head, trying to appear as remorseful as possible. It’s a rhetorical question, but Shuji expects his full attention. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. You can be very grateful that I have a weakness for your pretty face. Otherwise I would have thrown your ungrateful ass out on the street right away.”

It’s like a punch. It’s what he deserves. Expected even, but that doesn’t make it any easier to handle. With a man as unpredictable as Shuji, you never know what to brace yourself for. 

Heavy steps gap the distance to him and Punishment is being reached out to him. “Give me back the money you stole.” It’s an order, not a question and his heart sinks even deeper. 
Fear claws at the seams of his mind and he actively has to fight the urge to take cover before admitting, “I can’t.” 
In a strange way, he feels like a five year old right now, only seconds away from being hit by the fist of his father. 

It wasn’t much money he took from Shuji before he left, but clearly more than he has to spare. 

“What do you mean you can’t.”

“I don’t have enough!” Suddenly, it bursts out of him like a flood wave and his next words are clad in sheer desperation. “Listen, I know that you’re mad at me, but I don’t even have a fucking place to go! I will pay you back with my next job and the one after, but for now – ”

“And who do you think will give you these jobs?” Shuji cuts him off, voice cold as ice. 

Remorseful, Kazutora lowers his head, teeth maltreating his lower lip. “You…”

“Damn right. So I suggest you overthink your tone and that attitude before you dare to show your face here again.” 

Shame and guilt color his face in an ugly shade of red and Kazutora digs his fingers deeply into his upper arm, nodding obediently. 

 “Give me the jacket.”

His head snaps up, eyes growing wide in horror; in despair; in a silent plea that Shuji will only deem pathetic. He wants to argue. Wants to point out that it was a gift and that it’s freezing cold outside, but he swallows down the words, knowing how paperthin the ice is he is standing on right now. One misguided step, and he will fuck this up. So he complies without any objections and hands over the expensive gift. It feels like admitting defeat. 

“You can earn it back, but you owe me a lot of money,” Shuji informs him coolly. “So I expect you to work your ass off and not complain about a single fucking thing. Are we clear?”

“Yes.” His voice is a hollow sound.

“Great. Now get out of my sight. And don’t even think about contacting me on your own. I will be the one to call you, not the other way around. And when I do, I expect you to show up here without any of your damn excuses or you can fuck off for good.”

He nods numbly, fingers clenching around the handle of his suitcase before he follows Shuji towards the door.  

“You brought this about yourself, Kazutora. So bear the consequences and show me that you actually mean it when you say that you’re sorry. Proof it to me.”

He nods again, barely listening anymore.

A deep sigh falls from Shuji’s lips while he opens the door for him to leave. “This hurts me way more than it hurts you.”

It resembles a gunshot when it closes shut behind him and he's never felt so much like an unloved pet, thrown out of a warm house to freeze outside in the middle of the night as a form of punishment for unwanted behavior. 

If he really were a pet, he could roll up on the foot mat at least and seek shelter from the cold world outside until the door opens again, but this clearly isn’t an option. He needs to stay away, until Shuji allows him to come back. It’s another piece of repentance and he already dreads the coming days and weeks. 

Shuji will demand a lot of him to make up for this; and they both know he is in no position to refuse. 

Kazutora allows himself to remain in the entrance area for another ten minutes. Long enough, to come up with a plan. Only then he steps outside and is immediately greeted by a harsh wind, ripping at the hem of his shirt. Ignoring the trembling of his body, he makes his way through the night, followed by the rumbling sound of his suitcase. 

His mom probably still lives in the same plain, soulless flat, but she hasn’t been an option since he moved out without a word of goodbye. There aren’t any friends he can count on either, so apart from Shuji, there is no one to rely on. That only leaves the abandoned arcade hall, where he spend most of his time after leaving his mom’s place for good. 

It’s a huge building, containing more dirt than anything, but it has four walls and a roof that will keep out the wind. From the few yen he finds in his trousers, he buys a warm corn soup at the nearest vending machine, but it’s not nearly enough to keep the biting cold at bay. 

Hands wrapped around his puny meal, he sinks down at one of the graffiti sprayed concrete walls he knows from the past. It’s hidden deeper inside the building and belongs to something that might have been a storage room in the past. 

His phone is the only source of light, but that’s probably for the better. He doesn’t need to see all the trash scattered messily on the floor. To add at least a bit of warmth, he digs out a pile of additional shirts out of his suitcase, but nothing is really suited to replace his jacket. 

Cold and miserable, he finally picks up his phone, doing the one thing he avoided like hell; but he needs to be prepared when Shuji calls him. So, with a huge rock in his guts, he turns off the flight mode, allowing messages and calls to be delivered again. 

It aches and stings when a certain name pops up over and over again, sometimes changing for his best friend’s name and suddenly, he can’t breath. Tears well up in his burning eyes, on the verge of spilling over and during the next painful heartbeat, he can’t keep them in anymore. Hot and ugly they run down his cheeks, staining the display of his phone and the sob that escapes his throat is loud and unrestrained like a child crying over a broken toy. 

But he just can’t stop. All alone in the dark of an abandoned building, with nowhere to go and no one to hold him, Kazutora cries his heart out, body shaking like a leave. It’s old tears, mingling with fresh ones. Tears he never shed. Tears he didn’t even knew about. Tears he has never shown anyone. 

When it stops, he feels drained. Numb. Dull.

Bones heavy with exhaustion, Kazutora turns to his phone again. Deletes message, after message, after message, without giving them a read. 

It’s only when he sorts out Chifuyu’s name in his contact list, that his finger comes to a halt. The button to delete his number is right there. Only a single tap away. It’s not even a big deal. 
He won’t see him again. Won’t answer any messages or calls. Will bury the memories of him in a dark place inside and never look back at them again. 

But somehow, he just can’t bring himself to do it.

Not yet…

Chapter Text

Hope is a strange thing.

On the one hand, it can burn brightly like a flame, fueling you with passion, strength and the determination to keep fighting for your goals and dreams, but on the other hand, it can be draining. Painful. Lead to despair even, in the depths of night, when nothing seems to work out.

Still, Chifuyu hasn’t given up on it yet. Couldn’t give up on it, because he is not the type to just let it pass without even trying. And for Kazutora, he absolutely has to try.

It’s been a month since their argument. A month since he talked to him. Laughed with him. Got lost in his presence. 

A month since he received the last sign of life altogether – and it’s only been in form of the fact that his messages were delivered, after all, but never responded to. Of course not. 

If it had been up to Chifuyu, he would have rushed out to look for him right the next day, but a voice inside told him to wait. Give Kazutora the space he obviously needed after his confession. That stupid, stupid confession.

By now, that space turned into an unbearable weight on his chest that makes it really hard to breath whenever he remembers those golden eyes and wonders where he might be. Weather he is safe or not. If he’s getting by. 

Worry and guilt truly are nasty companions and Chifuyu realized abundantly clear, probably knew it the moment Kazutora rushed away, that he won’t be coming back on his own.  

Weather he doesn’t want to or doesn’t dare, he isn’t entirely sure about; both would make perfect sense. But as long as there is a possibility that it’s the latter, Chifuyu will not leave it at that. 

All he wants is another conversation at least – and the certainty that he is safe and sound. The thought that Kazutora might tell him that he never wants to see him again is a knife in his heart, but it’d still be easier to handle than this nagging uncertainty. Besides, he knows that Kazutora did like him. Maybe not in a romantic way, but as a friend. With some benefits, but that’s not the point here.

Of course, he asked around. Asked Mitsuya. Asked Hakkai. Even his model agency, but no one heard a single word of him, let alone see Kazutora these past weeks. He also checked his frequently visited spots, but there isn’t any sign to find. As if he had never been here in the first place. 

And maybe he even isn’t anymore. Maybe he really went back to Tokyo… the thought still sits like a stone in his guts, but he just can’t get it out of his mind. Not since Baji brought it up. 

It’s a sensitive topic. Chifuyu doesn’t really dare to talk about it again after he tried to discuss their possibilities with Baji. For example, contacting that shady ex boyfriend and try to get some information from him.

Baji’s reaction was just as fierce as it was resolute and he made more than clear that it’s not an option.

“No. Don’t even think about it. That guy is the biggest asshole on this planet and can’t be trusted,” he pressed out, clearly trying to keep his temper. “Do me, Tora and yourself a favor and move on.”

“But we can’t just give up on him…” Chifuyu knew how childish his objection sounded, but it just didn’t sit right with him. With Baji probably neither, but he had a different history with Kazutora.

“We don’t. He is the one running away and if this is what he wants, so be it. Chasing after him is a fucking waste of time.” 

The way Baji gritted his teeth showed painfully obvious how much, despite his harsh word, it actually bothered him, but Chifuyu knew him well enough to get that there was no discussing this. 

He was done chasing after Kazutora and maybe it’d be healthier and less painful to follow his advice, but Chifuyu can’t let it go. He just can't. 

It’s not hard to find Shuji Hanma’s contact information. On a high polished website, he is present with an email address, a business phone number and an address for his office. Dates by arrangement. 

Briefly, he thinks about just calling the man, but discards the idea. From what he knows, this guy is shady as fuck and treated Kazutora more than poorly, so chances are high that he’d just mess with him. Plus, if he really knows something, Chifuyu wants to be in reach, just in case…

The urge to talk to Kazutora, see him one more time, is unbearable. 

Not just because he misses him like hell, but because he needs him to know that he can always come back if he wants to. That for Chifuyu, nothing changed between them. That he isn’t deterred by his past, but rather holds compassion in his heart for all the things he’s been through. That Kazutora isn’t a ‘walking disaster’, but someone who is fun to be around; a kind soul with a contagious smile and the skilled hands of an artist who has been hurt so much that he can barely believe into good things anymore. Someone worth fighting for. 

And even if Kazutora still doesn’t want to come back, at least he can give him a proper goodbye. That’s all he asks for… although the notion hurts like a vice around his heart. 

He doesn’t involve Baji. Not to keep things from him, but he made his opinion very clear and Chifuyu got the message. So he makes his way to Tokyo alone, on a Friday afternoon after his classes.

To say that he is nervous is an understatement. He has no idea what this Hanma guy really is like, let alone if he even knows something or is willing to share if he does, but it’s the only lead he has.

With a bad gut feeling, he searches the city for the adresse he found on the website. It’s an office building in the middle of Tokyo, surrounded by small boutiques in the higher price segment. Nothing looks shady so far, but Chifuyu is on guard. He has heard enough to not be fooled by the first impression. 

The foyer is chic and elegant. Huge advertising posters frame the walls and his heart skips a beat when he recognizes Kazutora’s familiar face. It’s a picture he already knows; a black and white advertisement for perfume where only the gold of Kazutora’s eyes and the flacon are being left in their natural color. The first time Chifuyu saw it, it already took his breath away, but now there’s a painful ache in his chest in addition. He looks absolutely stunning, but Chifuyu can’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable Kazutora must feel about it. He wasn’t too fond of that picture. 

Awe-struck, he walks down the hall, scanning the walls for more and there are two other ads with Kazutora to find. Two other stunning pictures that go right under his skin. Yet, this man looks like an entirely different person than the Kazutora he knows. It’s a mask he presents, very pleasant to the eye, but it doesn’t compare to the person he really is. All the things that make him really beautiful aren’t visible on a mere photograph. Still, he can barely take his eyes off him. 

Slowly and with a weird feeling trapped in his guts, Chifuyu makes his way towards the reception desk. A young woman with a thigh ponytail is currently discussing something with a tall man. He wears an expensive looking suit. The blond highlights give his dark, wavy hair an elegant note and the thin pair of round glasses looks classy, but what is most remarkable are the very prominent tattoos on the back of his hands. It’s Sin and Punishment. 

Chifuyu swallows. This man looks like someone you don’t want to fuck with and he can tell immediately that he is someone with power. A big fish in the fashion industry probably.

Willing his face into a steadfast expression, he approaches the secretary as soon as she has finished her conversation with the tattoo guy. 

“Excuse me. Hello.” Chifuyu shows her a polite smile. “I want to talk with Shuji Hanma.”

She opens her mouth, but it’s the tall man who answers. “What do you want from Shuji Hanma?” 

He stopped in his movements and throws him a calculating gaze over his shoulder. His eyes are golden like Kazutora’s, but something dangerous lingers within. 

“It’s private,” Chifuyu tries to dodge. 

The guy slightly narrows his eyes. “What private matter would you want to discuss with me?”, he drawls, giving him a quick once-over. “Who are you even?”

Chifuyu is stunned for a second, trying to comprehend that new information. So this is Shuji Hanma…? Kazutora’s ex boyfriend? A thousand different thoughts rush through his mind, but he keeps them at bay for now, concentrating on the task at hand.

“Chifuyu Matsuno,” he brings out, heart pounding insanely fast against his ribcage. “I want to talk about Kazutora.”

A spark of curiosity flickers over Shuji Hanma’s face and suddenly, he looks a lot more approachable than before. 

“Why didn’t you tell me right away? Follow me. We can discuss the details in my office.” The corners of his mouth twitch into a light grin and Chifuyu can’t tell why, but something about it unsettles him. Perhaps it’s because of the things he heard about this man from Baji.

With a curt nod, Chifuyu follows him through a hallway. He tries to picture Kazutora next to this man. Tries to see how they’d interact and the notion sends a weird mixture of awe, anger and even a pinprick of jealousy through his heart. He settles for his anger, because he can totally imagine how a man like him would toy around with Kazutora and treat him like nothing but an object. It’s someone who is used to getting what he wants and won’t take no for an answer. Someone with power, who won’t shy away from using it.

When he finally enters Hanma’s office, another breath gets stuck in his throat. The walls are plastered with more pictures of Kazutora. There are other models in between, but his familiar face clearly dominates the room. 

“Make yourself at home,” Hanma says, making an inviting gesture into his office. “Do you want to drink something?”

“No, I’m fine,” Chifuyu replies, forcing his gaze away from the pictures on the walls.

Hanma seems to notice it if the little smirk on his lips is a reliable indicator. Then he shrugs and plugs out a cigarette and lighter from his suit, before he throws himself into a high-backed chair. 

“So, Matsuno,” he casually opens the conversation and blows smoke into the space between them. If it bothers him that Chifuyu prefers to remain standing, he doesn’t let it show. “You wanted to talk about Kazutora.”

“Yes. Do you know where he is?” He really tries to not sound as desperate as he feels inside and face this man without showing any weakness. 

Hanma slightly raises an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m his friend,” Chifuyu states, staring straight into those calculating eyes. 

“His friend?” A flicker of genuine interest crosses Hanma’s face. “Interesting. He never told me about a friend like you.” Chifuyu ignores the painful sting in his chest. “But if you are his friend, why don’t you just call him?” Hanma tilts his head and doesn’t let him out of his gaze for a single second.

Hesitantly, Chifuyu bites his lips. He isn’t sure how to answer that question, but unexpectedly, Hanma comes to his aid.

“Ah, let me guess: he’s ignoring you.” The grin on his lips is wolfish. “Yeah, that’s a bad habit of him. I went through the same treatment.” Hanma shrugs and takes another drag of his cigarette, following the smoke he blows towards the ceiling with his eyes. Then, he directs his gaze to Chifuyu again and casually asks, “Where do you know him from?”

It’s weird how a conversation that appears to be complaisantly on the outside can feel so much like a cross examination. This guy is really hard to read and unpredictable like the weather in April.  

“From the past six months,” Chifuyu reveals carefully.

“Oh, you’re a friend from Kyoto? I’m so glad to meet you, then!” He reveals a row of bright teeth. “Bet you can tell me a lot about how he’s been doing there. He didn’t tell me much about it yet. A secretive little bitch as always.” He smiles as if he made a particularly good joke and a cold shiver runs down Chifuyu’s spine, followed by a rush of boiling anger that burns his throat when he forces himself to swallow it down. 

“But I’m really glad to hear that he made some good friends out there.” Something weirdly knowing creeps into Hanma’s expression and Chifuyu feels as if he’s being scrutinized by those amused eyes, but he tries to not let it under his skin. 

“Can you tell me where he is?” he tries again, clinging to the fact that this guy really knows something. 

“Of course,” Hanma replies as if it’s no big deal. “Just give me your phone number. I’ll talk to him and let you know when you can visit us.”

Chifuyu would rather not give this guy anything, but for Kazutora, he will. So, with lips pressed into a thin line, he writes down his phone number onto a small piece of paper and shoves it towards Hanma.

“Thanks,” he says curtly. “I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, Matsuno. See you later.” Something about his grin sends another unpleasant shiver down his spine, but Chifuyu ignores it in favor of giving the man a short nod. It’s only when he leaves the office behind that he realizes he barely dared to breath inside and lets out a deep exhale through his nose.

This guy surely knows how to demonstrate his power in the most unpleasant way possible and his bad gut feeling from the start only solidified. 

How the hell did Kazutora get involved with someone like him? And even worse: decided to stay…? The possible answers his mind comes up with are hard to stomach, but also flood him with determination. 

It doesn’t have to be like this. Kazutora doesn’t need this shady guy, whatever he has to offer. The past months are proof enough… and Chifuyu won’t tire to remind him about that. 

He doesn’t have to wait long. About two hours later, Chifuyu gets a message with an address and a time to meet. His stomach twists in response. The notion of meeting Kazutora again makes him nervous, but is also a huge relief. However, the weird feeling in his guts is still present and only increased after meeting Shuji Hanma. 

Heart in his mouth, he appears in front of the fancy apartment building about ten minutes early. Chifuyu double checks if it’s the right place, but deep down he isn’t surprised. This totally looks like where he’d expect someone like Hanma to live. There’s another pinprick of inappropriate jealousy upon realizing that Kazutora does live with someone else now. Someone who has a lot more money and a fancy apartment. Compared to that, his own flat probably looks like a shoebox. 

It’s nothing he really cares about and Kazutora probably doesn’t either, but he can’t deny feeling a little inferior to that. Which is stupid and he knows it. 

After waiting five minutes that feel like forever, Chifuyu decides to finally ring. In the short silence that follows, his heart skips a beat, but it’s not Kazutora who answers. It’s Hanma.

“Yes?”

“It’s me.” Chifuyu clears his throat. “Matsuno.”

“Ah, yes, hello! Come to the upper floor and knock when you’re there.”

Chifuyu nods, although it goes unseen and swallows down his nervousness. Without much success. 

The way up takes him another eternity. He wonders how Kazutora will react to him, but counts it as a good sign that he agreed to meet him. That’s a start and more than he got these past weeks…

Bracing himself for whatever may happen during that conversation, Chifuyu knocks carefully against the door.

At first there is silence, and he can hear his own frantic heart echoing like a drumbeat in his ears. When the door is finally being opened, he meets a pair of beautiful golden eyes that he knows so well. Instead of calmly acknowledging him, they grow wide in utter shock; horror even.

“What…?” Kazutora stammers, face turning pale like chalk. 

“Surprise!” Hanma’s voice chimes in from the background, arms opened in a welcoming gesture. 

Like a haunted animal, Kazutora’s head shots to Hanma, who gives him an amused grin. “I met your friend today.” He gives Chifuyu a curt nod. “And thought, why not inviting him over? He wanted to talk to you anyway and seemed concerned. It’s really a shame that you didn’t tell me about him.”

“There’s nothing to say about him,” Kazutora grits out immediately. “I have nothing to tell him.”

It hurts. Each word spoken with coldest anger hurts, but desperation seeps out of Kazutora’s words like black tar and Chifuyu can practically grasp his fear with bare hands. 

“That’s so rude of you. He came all the way from Kyoto looking for you and that’s how you greet him?” Hanma shakes his head in disappointment and then adds towards Chifuyu, “Please excuse his behavior and come in, Matsuno. Be my guest.”

“I don’t want to cause any trouble... I just – ” Chifuyu lets his gaze dart back and forth between Hanma and Kazutora, before it lands on the latter. “Kazutora. Can we just talk for a second please?”

“No. Fuck off. I have nothing to tell you.” His voice is harsh, cold, but rough at the edges as if he’s trying his hardest to keep his emotions at bay.

Hanma sighs deeply and massages the bridge of his nose. “Get away from the door, Tora.” There’s a weird undertone, making it sound like an order you don’t want to object to. 

Kazutora bites his lips, avoiding his gaze like the plague, but eventually, he moves away.  

Chifuyu feels sorry for something he doesn’t quite understand, but it’s obvious that Kazutora is stressed to the max. Uncertainly, he takes a step inside and tries to reassure him. “I really just want to talk…” 

He doesn’t get an answer. In stoic silence, Kazutora moves away from him, arms crossed in a defensive manner. 

Another heavy sigh falls from Hanma’s lips. “I’m really sorry, Matsuno. He’s been rather difficult since he returned from Kyoto. Maybe you can tell me what happened?”

Chifuyu, who looks around in the luxury apartment and feels a little out of place, gives him a surprised glance. “No, I – ”

“Nothing happened,” Kazutora snaps coolly. “We barely even know each other. I have no idea what he wants from me.”

“Seems like you’ve made quite the impression on Matsuno, huh? Since he came all the way from Kyoto just to see you…” Hanma gives an inviting pat to the couch and Kazutora sits down next to him with clear reluctance written all over his face.

“What kind of friends are you even…?” Hanma lifts his head and takes Chifuyu into focus, lips stretching into a knowing grin. “Or let me ask a little more straight-forwardly: did you fuck him?”

Chifuyu’s eyes grow wide in utter shock and even if he wanted to say something, not a single word would leave his lips right now. 

Hanma laughs as if he has the time of his life, hand sliding casually underneath Kazutora’s shirt to caress his skin way too intimately. “Don’t worry, I’d hold no grudges. Technically, we weren’t in a relationship according to Tora, but it’s fine anyway. I mean, you’re really cute. I could totally see that happen.” His eyes gleam with amusement. “And if you want to, we could take this a step further. I really wouldn’t mind to share. So if you’re in for some fun, the three of us could – ”

“No, leave him out of this! I don’t want him near me!” It bursts out of Kazutora like an avalanche and he jumps to his feet, fists shaking with anger. “He can fuck off. This conversation is over.”

“But – ”

“Are you deaf? Fuck off!” Forcefully, Kazutora grabs his upper arm and drags him towards the door. “And don’t show your face here again. Just leave me alone already!”

He tightens his grip hard enough to leave bruises and literally shoves him out of the door.

“Kazutora…” Chifuyu mumbles helplessly, trying to understand. He can see his despair clear as day underneath his burning rage; the pain; the angst. 

Something in these golden eyes breaks when he whispers, “I hate you. I hate you for coming here. Stay away from me, Chifuyu.”

The sound of the door being thrown shut is like a slap to the face and Chifuyu flinches. A million different thoughts run through his mind and he wants nothing more but to rush back inside and demand answers. Drag Kazutora out of that apartment and talk with him in privacy. Understand everything that was written between the lines, because despite his harsh words of utter rejection, Chifuyu saw how much it killed him. Saw the raw panic in his eyes as soon as he recognized him in front of the apartment and he just wants to understand!

What’s he so terribly afraid of? Why is he choosing this, choosing Hanma, although it’s obvious how uncomfortable this man makes him feel? 

What is he missing here…?

Chifuyu doesn’t know, but despite his stubbornness, he is smart enough to get that he won’t get any further here. 
It leaves him with no choice but to return to his hotel room, defeated and miserable, with the bitter taste of rejection on his tongue, the image of these beautiful golden eyes widened in terror upon seeing him and words meant to break a man’s heart. 

And the worst part? It not only broke Chifuyu’s heart. He is sure that Kazutora’s broke even more. 

Chapter Text

This is a nightmare. 

Kazutora still presses his hands against the doorhandle. Keeps Chifuyu out, out, out with all of his might. 

It’s irrational, since the man can’t get in without a key, but he is way too agitated for rational thoughts. 

Heart racing like mad, he tries to process what happened. Tries to understand how the fuck Chifuyu could end up here, but then again, he shouldn’t be too surprised. Kazutora learned enough about him to know that he won’t give up so easily. When it comes to this, he’s so much like Keisuke that it hurts. Keisuke, who, apparently, didn’t bother to show up anymore. It shouldn’t sting, but does, although it’s exactly what he wanted. 

A stupid part inside wants to appreciate Chifuyu’s effort. Wants to feel valued and special, especially after fucking up so royaly and throwing one if his ugliest truths right into his face. But he won’t be fooled; it doesn’t change a thing and the faster he can forget about the whole incident and move on, the better. 

“That was really harsh of you,” Shuji comments dryly behind his back, making his skin crawl. “The poor guy.” 

The amused smile is audible in every line and Kazutora wants nothing more but to change the topic immediately. Rip Chifuyu out of Shuji’s focus and make him forget that he ever heard about the man who made him vulnerable to the core. It’s far too dangerous and he absolutely mustn't allow Chifuyu to be dragged into this.

Instead of coming up with an answer, he crosses the distance to Shuji with quick, determined steps. Distraction. He needs to come up with a good distraction. 

Willing his face into a blank mask, Kazutora stops right in front of him. Shuji still sits on the couch, observing him with watchful eyes. The grin on his lips never faltered. 

“What happened between you two?”

“Nothing,” Kazutora deadpans and gets down to his knees. With calculated movements, he spreads Shuji’s legs and slides into the space.

The grin that looms over him like a threat deepens. “You’re a bad liar, Kazutora.” A hand marked with Sin reaches out to cup his cheek. Caresses it with slow, gentle circles and Kazutora tries to swallow against the dryness in his throat. Tries to not let show how his stomach drops. How fear digs its sharp claws into his guts. 

“Are you scared that I’ll be mad? That’s really cute,” Shuji singsangs, still tracing over his skin with far too soft fingertips. Kazutora avoids to look him in the eye. Keeps his concentration on the task at hand and pulls down the zipper of a pair of trousers that’s worth more than his whole outfit.  

“You like him.” A thumb presses down his lower lip. “It’s written all over your face.”

His heart sinks, clenches, punches the air out of his lungs. Putting a mask of indifference onto his face, he forces himself to meet those cruel, amber eyes. Tries to appear all unaffected and calm. Banns any sign of an emotion out of his voice. 

“He means nothing.”

It’s a lie and they both know, but he can’t afford to panic. Without another word, Kazutora leans down to his crotch. Parts his lips to fill Shuji’s brain with pleasure rather than cruelties. 

Another blowjob, another attempt to make up for his mistakes. 

Shuji seems very pleased with the situation. Lips stretched into that amused smile, he leans back and enjoys the show. After a few moments, Kazutora notes out of the corner of his eyes how he gets out his phone. Then, Sin wanders into his hair and brushes a strand behind his ear.

“Look up to me.”

Despite his bad gut feeling, Kazutora obeys. The phone is pointed right towards his face and the soft clicking noise indicates that Shuji just took a picture of him. He shoves his dick harder into his mouth and takes another one. Grabs a fistful of his hair to lift his head even higher and shoots more humiliating pictures.

Kazutora tries not to choke, swallowing down the puny rest of his dignity instead of complaining and demanding to at least ask him for fucking consent. He learned that it means nothing and he’s still at this man’s mercy. So he won’t act up anymore – and Shuji knows. He knows so damn well. 

“Mh. I like that one.” He turns the display around to show him the lewd scene he just captured. Even the tears that formed around the corners of his eyes are visible on the picture. Kazutora feels like getting sick. The urge to rip the fucking phone out of his hands and stomp it to bits is hard to handle, but the worst part is, that Shuji got more on him. So much fucking more. 

As if he just read his thoughts, Shuji digs out another piece. “And what do you think about this one?” 

The phone is turned towards him again and the bitter taste of bile wants to crawl up his throat. It’s him, blowing some big fish in the fashion industry into oblivion. 

“Or rather this?”

Another ugly piece of his past is being shoved right into his face.

“Ah, I’ll just send all of them. If that doesn't make Matsuno agree to my offer, I don't know what will.” 

Kazutora’s eyes grow wide at these words and for a second, he freezes in his movements. 

“Aaaaand send. Let’s see what he thinks.” 

Shuji flashes him a smug grin, while all he can do it stare at him in utter shock. For a second, his vulnerability lies bare and naked in front of Shuji, raw and unprotected and he wants to yell at him, jump at his throat, throw a fist at his stupid face, but all Kazutora can do is getting back to his task as fast as possible and clench his fists in helpless despair. He needs to overplay it. Needs to shove his emotions down into the darkest corner of his mind, but if he were alone, he’d scream and cry and punch a wall until his fists were covered in blood. 

Kazutora can’t tell how he makes it through the next minutes. He feels like being on the brick of snapping any moment, but somehow, he manages to detach himself enough from reality to pull through. It’s a skill he polished through the years. Something that helped him to stay alive. 

When he is done, his throat burns and inside, everything is cold. Shuji doesn’t stop him when he heads for the bathroom. He just watches him curiously, typing something into his phone and Kazutora doesn’t want to spend a single thought on who he might be texting. 

He locks the bathroom door. Presses his back against it to keep Shuji out. Digs out his own phone. Checks for a message. A call. Anything.

There’s nothing. 

His heart clenches. Sends a stab of pain through his body. He shoves it aside. Fights down his panic. His burning disgust. 

With gritted teeth, he pushes the phone back into his trousers. Slips out of his clothes. Walks towards the rain shower, more a shell than a human being.

It washes over him like the needle sharp drops of cold water. The emotions he tried to keep at bay out there. Driven by despair, by fury, by helpless self-disgust, he bangs his fist against the tiles. Clenches his jaw. Releases a sound that is somewhere between a hiss and a sob.

He knows that this is just another punishment. Another way to show him his place. Make him regret with every inch of his body that he dared to leave.

And it does a fucking awesome job. This is literally the worst. Now, the mere thought of Chifuyu and what he might think of him makes him want to throw up and it’s really hard to keep it in. 

Kazutora changes the water from icy to burning hot. Tries to burn his skin away. The nasty sensation of all the hands that have touched him in the past. 

Deep down, he still feels dirty after stepping out of the shower. There are stains on him that can’t be washed away. He is far too aware of that.

Mechanically, he slips into a bathrobe made of silk. Its shiny black, adorned with golden patterns to macht his eyes. A gesture that once made his heart beat faster leaves a bitter aftertaste now. 

Shuji was convinced that he’d come back. And he was right. 

When he enters the living space, the familiar weight of golden eyes is immediately on him, gleaming with smug amusement. His throat tightens upon the notion that Chifuyu might have replied to him in the meantime, but he shoves it aside just like the rest of his emotions, not even meeting Shuji’s gaze. 

He’s not really sure what to do now, but taking a smoke sounds like a fucking brilliant idea now, so he heads for the wardrobe to get his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. 

It’s just when he reaches the coat hook that he can hear approaching steps behind his back. Kazutora tenses a little, but refuses to turn to him, fingers wrapping around his cigarettes.

“You’re so quite,” Shuji murmurs into his ear, coming to a halt right behind his back. Placing a forefinger under his chin, he lifts Kazutora’s head a little to make him look up. “Everything alright?” It’s not that he looks actually concerned, just a bit curious.

If Kazutora had any strength left to fight, he’d spit a sarcastic comment right into his face, but he settles for a cold stare and a lifeless, “Yes.” 

Then, he sets his focus onto the task at hand again, searching for his lighter in the other pocket of his jacket. 

Shuji, however, doesn’t let it go so easily. Hands wandering to his shoulders, he gives them a good measured squeeze. “You’re stiff as a board,” he notes, adding light pressure to his tensed muscles with his thumbs. “You should relax a bit, cub.”

With practiced movements, he begins to massage his shoulders, leaning closer to his ear again. “And I think that I should take you out on a nice dinner.” 

Sinful lips trace over the shell of his ear and although Shuji is the last person on earth he wants to be with right now, it sends an arousing shiver down his spine. “Put you in some nice clothes and show off my pretty tiger.” 

A hungry mouth presses messy kisses onto his neck and a hand inked with Sin moves around his body to slip underneath the bathrobe that covers his bare skin. Slender fingers run over his chest, falling into sync with the lips that nibble softly on the sensitive skin of his neck.

“You liked the view of that sky restaurant, didn’t you? I’ll make sure to get us a table at eight.” Shuji’s words are smooth like summer golden honey. A deadly trap that lulled him time and time again. 

 “But first…” A soft moan slips through his lips when a hand wraps around his twitching cock, giving it some practiced strokes. “Let me hear your pretty voice.” 

Kazutora hates how his body is clay in those cruel hands. Hates, how he can do nothing but press his clenched fists against the wall to seek for some support. Hates how he melts into the embrace of the arms wrapped possessively around him. Hates, hates, hates.

But at the same time, it hits a vulnerable spot deep inside. Shuji being nice to him is always like a straw he can hold onto. Especially after all the shit he pulled. It’s a glimpse of sunlight in a devastating winter. 

Since he returned, it’s the first time that Shuji actually does something to treat him nicely and give him hope that he won’t punish him forever. 

Kazutora can’t tell what brought him to acting like this now. Maybe it’s because he looked like he was on the verge of breaking for good and even Shuji realized that he can’t endure his cruelties forever, but it shows that he does care in a way. That even he has a limit when it comes to treating him like shit. 

Pathetically enough, his eyes start to burn a little. Perhaps it’s because he learned what it’s like to be touched by more gentle hands; learned what it’s like to be treated as something valuable. And it hurts a little to realize that this is the nicest he will get from now on. 

“Look at you.”

With Sin and Punishment resting on his shoulders, Shuji stands behind him in front of a high mirror and devours him with his amber eyes. “You look so fuckable, everyone will be jealous of me.” 

Words of praise that would have him longing for more in the past, now only leave a shallow taste in Kazutora’s mouth. But it’s still better than anything else this man has to offer, so he won’t complain.

He’ll just need some time to adjust. Then, he’ll appreciate it again.  

Kazutora forces the attempt of a wry grin onto his lips that rather looks like a grimace. 

“Yeah.” 

The clothes that Shuji gave him are expensive as usual. A silky button-down shirt with a plunging neckline, resembling the color of molten caramel; a dark pair of trousers that matches the oversized blazer. A prominent bucket belt shaped as a tiger. It’s a new present that fits to his tiger print jacket he earned back after two weeks. What would have given him a rush of excitement in the past, now barely triggers an emotion. 

If he allowed himself to feel too much, he’d break for sure. 

Shuji is in a noticeably good mood. While he hums to the melody of a song playing in the radio, Kazutora watches the passing city through the window without much interest. If things went his way, he’d lock himself in a room and never come out again.

“You’ve changed since you came back from Kyoto. I’m still really curious to find out why,” Shuji notes, throwing him a calculating side-glance.

“There’s not much to find out,” he dodges, but can’t deny that Shuji is right. His past self would have felt loved and cherished over the dinner, eyes brimming with excitement, but that was before their huge breakup. It’s not only Kyoto that changed him. It was realizing what Shuji is willing to do to him. 

Absentmindedly, he digs out another cigarette. It’s his second on a car drive that won’t take longer than ten minutes. Then, he finishes his statement. “I was stupid enough to think that I could make it on my own and failed. End of the story. ”

“Aw, you sound so dark now. I really hurt your feelings with that Matsuno guy, huh.”

It’s another, unexpected punch. Kazutora’s stomach twists upon hearing this name and all the messed up emotions he desperately tries to keep in, scratch at the surface, but somehow, he manages to push them back down. Only the nasty taste of bile remains in his throat. 

“You know that I just love to tease you a little from time to time. But I’d never do something to really hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

The audacity of those words is unmatched, considering what this man did only today to humiliate him in the worst possible way, but at least he probably won’t hurt him physically, huh. 

Perhaps the cold soberness of his own thoughts should concern him. 

“Yeah,” Kazutora replies, without really meaning it. They both know he will do it again. The only difference is, that Shuji’s ways of making up for it doesn’t get him excited anymore. 

The restaurant is a high class establishment for people with heavy wallets. Shuji is treated like a well-known guest and while they are led to a quiet table in the corner providing the best view, he stops when they pass two middle aged man.

“Ichikawa! What a pleasant surprise.”

The man in question gulps down his bite of food and dabs his mouth with a napkin. “If that isn’t Shuji Hanma. Hey, how you’re doing?”

“Never been better.” Shuji’s reveals a toothy grin. “I don’t want to disturb your dinner, gentleman. But we totally should make a call in the next days and talk about an upcoming project. I never introduced you to my most special model here.”

Sin is a heavy weight on his hipbone and drags him closer to Shuji’s side. “He is gorgeous. You’ll love him.”

The gray eyes of the man wander to him, measuring his body within seconds. Kazutora’s knows that gaze and doesn’t want to think about the implications of that conversation. Not today. He can’t deal with this shit right now.

“I’m going to the restroom,” he announces, voice as blank as his face and tries to slip out of Shuji’s grip. He’s held back by Punishment’s slender fingers that wrap around his wrist. 

“Don’t make me wait too long, tiger,” Shuji murmurs into his ear, delighted, and turns his head with the fingers that brush over his cheek. A kiss is being pressed onto his lips, dark and alluring and the smirking wink that Shuji gives him afterwards is pure sin; but it leaves him cold. 

Heavy-hearted, Kazutora rushes into the bathroom. Only when the door of a cabin closes behind his back, he feels safe enough to let out a deep breath. 

Smoking is prohibited in here, of course, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck. Getting down on the toilet seat, he leans his head back against the tiles and stares at the extravagant ceiling, It resembles black marble and a heavy chandelier adds another layer of exclusiveness. Like, who even needs that in a restroom?

The smoke helps him to calm down and briefly, the naive thought of just running away again crosses his mind, but he crushes it like an annoying fly underneath his thumb. This is the only life he can pull off. If only it hadn’t become so hard to swallow down everything Shuji gives him.

It had been easier in the past. When this had been all he had ever known, there was nothing else to secretly wish for. But Chifuyu – 

Kazutora clenches his jaw. This name brings so many mixed emotions that he can barely contain it and all the messed up shit from today crashes down on him once again. He’s still not sure how to deal with this. What to actually do, but when he digs out his phone, just to check if something happened in the meantime, his heart drops to the floor. 

There’s a message. It’s from Chifuyu. Of course, it’s from him, but he can’t bear the thought of actually reading it. Can’t bear the thought of possibly being judged or pitied, or worse, find out that he actually agreed to Shuji’s offer. 

It’s not even in the realm of impossibility, Kazutora realizes with growing horror. He might go along just to find another possibility to talk to him. The notion settles like a rock in his guts. 

Unsure, he bites his lower lip until he draws blood. He told Chifuyu to leave him alone, but his distress must have been blindingly bright for him to see, like fucking neon lights. So he’d probably try again. He’s just that kind of guy. Trying to make sure that everyone around him is fine, while being stubborn to a fault. 

Kazutora can’t leave it like this. No. 
It’s far too risky…

Hesitantly, as if defusing a bomb, he opens the message. It looks harmless on the surface, but rips at his deepest fears and vulnerabilities. 

Can we please talk?

He stares at the message for what feels like an eternity, mouth dry like sand. Briefly, he wonders if Chifuyu also replied to Shuji and the stuff he send him. What he might have said to that. But rationality tells him a different story. 

This is Chifuyu – and Kazutora learned to trust him. Which makes everything about this so eternally worse. 

Telling him about his messed up youth is one thing, but this? It’s a secret he not even shared with Kei. For obvious reasons. 

Even his best friend would judge him. Label him as disgusting if he knew. Everyone would. It’s only natural. 

But now, the elephant is in the fucking room and he can’t shove it back into the hell it escaped from. 

The only positive thing? Once he tells Chifuyu the whole story, he’ll leave him alone for good. Which is exactly what he is aiming for. If only it wouldn’t feel like ripping his soul out so much. 

Tomorrow at 10 am. Hibiya station.

It’s near the old arcade hall and far enough away from Shuji’s workplace to be safe. If he could, he’d just storm out right here and now and get it over with (before he can reconsider and overthink this shit), but he mustn’t let Shuji know. So he has to survive the hours until tomorrow morning somehow, without going insane, leaving the country or throwing himself off the nearest rooftop.  

His heart clenches when he hits the send button and his next impulse is to shut down his phone. He doesn’t want to see Chifuyu’s response. Hell, if he could, he wouldn’t show his face in front of him ever again. 

But Shuji forces him to. It’s his favorite game to send him over cliff after cliff and somehow, Kazutora learned to survive every fall. 

Chapter Text

Chifuyu wouldn’t consider himself an overly nervous person. Sure, there are things that leave him on edge or situations where he tends to overthink, but usually, he can solve things with a calm and collected attitude. 

Waiting for Kazutora to show up, however, sends his nervousness level to a new extreme.

Getting here an hour early probably wasn’t his best decision, but staying in his cheap motel room wouldn’t have been any better. Doesn’t really matter where he is an agitated mess right now, really. Plus, if Kazutora decides to show up earlier as well, he is prepared. 

Emphasis on if. 

Chifuyu wouldn’t be surprised if he reconsiders this last minute, but that’s a possibility he shoves into a darker corner of his mind, because if they don’t talk he’ll probably explode. 

The whirlwind of emotions that broke lose inside him is contradicting like a punch given after a kiss.

“Fuck off. I have nothing to tell you.”

“I hate you. I hate you for coming here. Stay away from me, Chifuyu.”

Sorry about Tora’s rudeness again. My offer still stands. He looks really good like this, doesn’t he?

It’s lines like these ghosting through his head, the last one accompanied by these highly unsettling pics that Shuji send to him. Chifuyu can’t imagine that Kazutora actually agreed to sharing this and he doesn’t even want to think about the disturbing implications that linger heavily in the air like lead. 

It makes him sick with anger to think that someone who calls himself his boyfriend would treat him like this. Talk about ‘sharing’ him as if he is his damn property. It fits so brutally well into the image that Baji painted, but hearing about something and witnessing it firsthand are two entirely different things.

But the worst part? It hurt. The stupid part inside that caught feelings, despite his better reason, was hurt for a split second. Chifuyu hates himself a little for that glimmer of jealousy in such a situation, but his heart still longs for this man, so seeing him with someone else was a stab right in the chest. 

Shit. He isn’t any better than the rest, huh. 

The minutes pass. Chifuyu keeps his gaze darting between his phone and the surroundings.
For once he understands the appeal of a cigarette between his nervous fingers. Sounds like a welcoming distraction and would give him something to do at least.

It’s half past nine when he spots a familiar tiger print jacket in the far crowd. Apparently, he is not the only one who wants to get over with this conversation as soon as possible… 

It’s hard to tell from the distance, but Kazutora seems to freeze when he notices him, before quickly averting his gaze. One hand buried in his jacket, the other one equipped with a cigarette, he approaches him with quiet, calculated steps.

Chifuyu is unsure how to even greet him, shoving away the undeniable urge to pull him into a tight hug, but Kazutora shortens the welcoming procedure with a curt nod, leaving a notable distance between them. 

“Follow me,” he murmurs, voice thin and blank like a sheet of paper.

He’s still not looking at him, keeping himself busy with smoking and Chifuyu can tell that he is more than on edge. 

His heart sinks a little at the sight. He’s gotten so used to a Kazutora that feels safe and comfortable around him, that it hurts to see him like this. 

“Thank you for coming here…,” he mumbles a quiet appreciation, but his reassuring smile goes unseen.

In tense silence, he follows Kazutora down the street. The dark circles under his eyes indicate that he didn’t get much sleep these past weeks and overall, he looks battered to the bone. There’s no playful gleam in his golden eyes anymore, nor even a spark of anger or reproach. 

Nothing. There’s bleak nothingness.

He looks numb and hollow. Like a man who's given up.

Without looking at him or his general direction even once, Kazutora guides him towards a worn down building. It’s huge and the windows are nailed up with weathered planks. The remains of a barrier tape hangs loosely on one side of the double-door. With a few, practiced movements, Kazutora shakes at the entrance until it opens without much effort. 

Chifuyu swallows down the questions that linger on the tip of his tongue and follows him inside. 

“This is where I spent most of my time after prison,” Kazutora reveals as he steps into the wide space and makes an all encompassing gesture. Then he throws him a curt glance over his shoulder. “I guess you talked with Keisuke about that.”

Chifuyu, a little caught off guard by the sudden interaction, needs a seconds to react.  “Yeah…,” he then admits, heart growing heavy with compassion.

Kazutora just nods to himself and turns his back to him again. “So you know that I told you the truth. When I got out, my mom tried to get rid of me right away. But when her boarding school plan failed, I just packed my stuff one day and landed here.”

Without slowing down, he walks over the dirty ground. Pebbles and junk are scattered on the concrete floor and scrunch under every step he takes to keep up with Kazutora. 

“I was out most nights anyway and she never cared if I was home or not. To her, I was like an unwanted pet. Or a bug maybe. Something you just accept in your home because it’s not worth the trouble, but would rather have outside.” A hint of bitterness colors his words that seem cold and detached on the surface. An unpleasant shiver runs down Chifuyu’s spine. 

“I had no money. No plan what to do with my fucking life, but here were some people who respected me at least. Having been in prison gives you some kind of street credit and everything was better than staying with my mother.” Kazutora kicks against a fist-sized stone in his path and stops in his movements to watch it slither over the floor.

“I got by with stealing and some low-key criminal jobs, like beating some losers up and stuff. Nothing to be proud of, but I just wanted to get through somehow.” 

Golden eyes meet his and give him an intense stare as if he is looking for any sign of judgment or rejection. Chifuyu holds in a breath, trying to appear as neutral as possible, but he hangs on every word being spoken and is clearly on edge. This is a story that isn’t easily shared and he doesn’t want to destroy this.

Kazutora keeps eye contact, not even faltering when he reveals, “I also met Shuji here. Actually, he was the reason for leaving my mother’s place for good.”

There’s a notable pause and Chifuyu isn’t sure if he’s supposed to say something, but he keeps quiet and just watches the man in front of him. Hands buried in his pockets, Kazutora stares at an undefined point in the distance. He is turned halfway to him, so Chifuyu can only see his profile, but the slight frown on his forehead shows that he is thinking carefully about his next words. 

“Shuji was one of the common faces. Something like the head of the drug dealers here, so he mostly collected debts or just showed up as a warning,” Kazutora continues in an overly casual tone and digs out another cigarette out of his pocket. “One day he approached me, asking what someone like me is doing here all the time. I was wary and wanted to know what the fuck he meant with that.” He presses his lips into a thin, bloodless line. “Shuji smirked and said,  ‘A face like yours belongs to the cover of a magazine. I’m a photographer, I can tell. Mind if I take a few pics?’. I thought he was fucking with me, of course. But then he got out his phone and showed me some really cool pics. In the end, he gave me his business card and told me to meet him for lunch the next day if I’m interested.” With a soft sizzling sound from his lighter, he ignites the cigarette tucked between his fingers, but doesn’t take a drag. 

“It sounded shady as fuck and I didn’t believe him a single world, but he looked rich and I thought that I could give it a shot and try to get some money from him.” He shrugs slightly as if to brush it aside as nothing special. “But things turned out differently from what I expected. In fact, it started off – nice.” Kazutora frowns as if the word doesn’t sit right with him. “Shuji was nice. He treated me as someone special. Someone he actually saw potential in.”

Something like a resigned sigh falls from his lips and Kazutora briefly shakes his head as if to get rid of a certain image or thought. Then, he walks over to a half crumbled concrete wall to lean his back against the worn down surface. One hand finds its way back into the pocket of his jacket, the other is busy with the cigarette, rolling it nervously between his fingers.  

Cautiously, Chifuyu catches up to him, but keeps a certain distance. He feels like Kazutora needs some space to tell his story.

The man in questions keeps his gaze away from him and leans his head back against the solid wall, willing his face and voice into a blank mask of indifference before he starts to talk again. “When he took these first pictures of me, I was overwhelmed. A tall, handsome, charming guy like Shuji catching interest into someone like me? It sounded ridiculous, but after telling me how good I looked and that I am totally a model type for a whole evening, I slowly started to believe him.”

Chunks of self-disdain seeps into his tone, dark and heavy like tar, betraying what lies underneath the surface.

“He took more pictures of me and started to take me out on fancy dinners soon after. Bought me expensive clothes. Showered me in compliments about my appearance. Invited me into luxury hotel rooms. The whole package. Slowly, he dragged me into his life and I got addicted to his approval and praises.
 “It was like entering a different world and with Shuji, everything seemed so easy. He showed me around as if he wanted the world to see that I belong to him and I loved every second of it. Sure, he had some shady business going on in the background and his so called friends and business partners made me uncomfortable, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle and a small price to pay for what I got in return.”

He nearly crushes the cigarette between his fingers now, jaw tensing in visible anger.

“I was dumb and naive. Thought that this man actually likes me.” Kazutora grimaces in disgust, before spitting out the next word like a nasty secret. “Loves me even. And I was willing to do everything for him. So when the first changes happened, I just went along with it.”

Agitated, he pushes the cigarette between his lips to take a first, deep drag. Chifuyu can tell that he is buying time, trying to prepare himself or figure out how to go on. It does nothing to ease his own nerves, but he just remains where he is, with enough space between them to allow him an escape anytime and is grateful for every piece he gets. 

“It was after three or four months.” Kazutora looks nearly bored, but something about the way he talks now makes Chifuyu’s skin crawl. “He told me that he wanted to introduce me to a fashion designer who’d love to work with us. At first, everything seemed normal. Shuji took pictures of me and that guy just watched us, but when we were done, Shuji walked over to me, gave my shoulder a pat and told me to be ‘nice’ to that guy and do what he says.” 

Kazutora takes another pause, another drag of his cigarette and his indifference alone makes Chifuyu’s stomach twists. 

“I was a little confused and didn’t get it at first, but that asshole wasn’t really subtle and got straight to the point,” he rattles off without any emotions. “He was the first of many to come. Just a blowjob and a little touching in exchange for the best model jobs. Shuji said it’s the way this business works and lulled me in with nice words about how satisfied our business partners were with the results. He didn’t mind at all. Not even when the first guy did more than what was agreed to.” While Chifuyu’s eyes widen in shock and his stomach drops and turns, Kazutora is the epitome of coldest apathy. 

“It happened a few times at first and then more and more often. One of these assholes even drugged me and did the devil knows what with me. And do you know what Shuji said?” Now, he grits his teeth hard enough that Chifuyu fears he might hurt himself in the process, spitting out the next words like venom. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t worry my pretty little head about it. He’ll just rise the prices for them and take me out on a nice dinner to make up for it.” His face goes back to a blank mask, but there’s a sharp edge in his tone. ”When he fucked me afterwards, he was especially nice as well, telling me how good I looked and how well I did.”

Suddenly, Kazutora throws him a piercing glance and it’s so unexpected, that Chifuyu feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Maybe you get now why I’m not too fond of these fucking pictures of me. I didn’t get them for my great modeling skills or anything. I’m not even a damn model. I’m just a free-to-use whore, pretending to be something else. It’s pathetic.”

Every line is spoken with so much self loathing that Chifuyu wants to object with every word known to him, but even if he found his voice, he wouldn’t stand a chance against this wall of deep-rooted hatred; nor could he come up with something appropriate in time. All of this is so unimaginably horrifying that he has a hard time to even process it properly and Kazutora continues before it even can sink in fully.  

“Things escalated when one of the customers had a special wish.” His face darkens and golden eyes dart to the ground again. “This time, Shuji talked to me about the whole thing. Probably because someone else was supposed to be involved as well.” Bitterness lingers heavily in his words. “He said that this is a huge thing. A real stepstone for my career. All I needed to do is say ‘yes’ to a little filming, oh, and another model would participate as well.” A sound of disgust escapes his throat. 

“I told him that I won’t agree to do fucking porn! Or a threesome. Or whatever sick fantasies that designer asshole wanted to live out. I’m supposed to be a model, not a prostitute,” he grits out. “Shuji started to laugh and told me to not act like a spoiled brat. Besides, it’s no big deal anyway. He has plenty of footage already.” Coldest anger creeps into Kazutora’s voice when he reveals, “That asshole filmed me the whole time. Whenever I had to get down on my knees for one of these bastards, he made sure to film it. To have something up his sleeve, just in case one of these guys wanted to act up one day, he said.” In a nearly helpless gesture, Kazutora clenches his fists.

“To back up his words, Shuji showed some of the footage to me and advised me to ‘reconsider my answer to his request’. If I denied, one of these videos might slip into the hands of any model agency I’d try to contact, in case I thought about becoming independent from him. So I should chose wisely and trust him. Do what’s best for my career.”

The bitterness in his tone is hard to stomach. Face torn with despise, Kazutora crosses his arms as if to substantiate his aversion. “I told him to fuck off. That I’m not his damn whore and that I’m through with him and his bullshit. It’s the day were I packed my stuff and traveled to Kyoto. You know the rest.”

This time, it doesn’t throw him off tracks when golden eyes take him into focus, but still Kazutora’s gaze goes deeply under his skin.

“You don’t have to say anything. The only reason why I’m telling you this is because I want you to understand what kind of person I am. So just leave me alone already.”

“I don’t want to. Not because of this.” Chifuyu can’t really tell how he even manages to come up with an immediate response, but the words just slip out of his mouth.

He earns an expression that lies somewhere between shocked and questioning as if Kazutora didn’t expect him to answer either; or maybe it’s his response in general.

“You’ve been through a lot. And I – I honestly don’t even know where to start with this. I’m so damn angry at that asshole!” Chifuyu clenches his fists and raises his chin in determination before he continues, “But I don’t want to make this about him. This is about you and it doesn’t change a single thing about who you are to me. I’m just – it makes me so sad. And angry. And it’s just not fair!”

It’s not even coming close to describe the whole story he just heard. Chifuyu listened in some kind of shock state, unable to actually process it entirely. Process what it actually means for the man in front of him. To Kazutora, it’s not a story he just got told. It’s what actually happened to him. It’s his reality. His life. 

Chifuyu can’t even begin to describe how the mere thought makes him feel – and he doesn’t even want to get started with Kazutora. It must be – hell, he can’t even find the words. 

The man in question answers with a dismissive snort. “I honestly don’t know if you’re dumb on purpose or just delusional. It doesn’t change a thing? Wanna know how I got by in Kyoto? Wanna know what I did before I sneaked my way into your apartment?” Kazutora raises his voice and gestures wildly into the air. 

His next words are spoken like a slap in the face. “I slept with some old geezers in exchange for a roof over my head! Looked for the richest guys out there and tried to seduce them. You were just an exception that happened by chance. I didn’t look for guys like you.” He makes it sound like a mistake, spoken with another load of self-contempt. “You asked too many questions and were way too fucking nice in general and – I knew that I was deceiving you. The whole fucking time.” Kazutora grits his teeth. “Did you know that I still tried to find someone when I was living with you? That I went to bars, looking for another asshole to use me? Just like the cheap whore that I am. Because it’s all that I’m good for.” 

It hurts. Listening to Kazutora putting himself down like this hurts on a fundamental level, but Chifuyu won’t be scarred off. He knows what Kazutora is trying to do – and he won’t play along. 

Yes, the thought that he actually went out there, trying to seduce random strangers fills him with unease. Friendly spoken. A part inside even is tempted to ask if he still did this when they started to sleep together, but he doesn’t give in to that. Chifuyu understands. He understands so many damn things now and he won’t fuck this up.

“You’re wrong.” Chifuyu faces him with determination, taking a step towards him. “And certainly I’m not here because of that. You know that it’s never been about sex.” 

He just needs to point that out, although it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but he can’t get Kazutora’s accusation from their last huge argument out of his head. It was spoken in anger and meant to scare him off as well, but he needs to say this for his own peace of mind.

Kazutora lets out a sound of contempt. “Yeah. You’re here because you’re stupid and don’t know the meaning of leave me the fuck alone.”

“I will,” Chifuyu assures without hesitation, ignoring the deep ache in his chest. “If that’s what you really want, I will. I won’t bother you or force you to do anything, Kazutora. I never wanted to. But I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t has to be like this. You don’t have to stay here. If you want to, there’s always a chance to come back to Kyoto. We’d welcome you with open arms.” Chifuyu backs up his words with the suitable gesture. “Baji would. I would. You just…have to come back. Out of your own free will. It’s your choice. No one is going to force you.”

His determined expression turns into a gentle smile. It’s torn at the edges, but genuine like a heart’s secret. 

“I just wanted to tell you this in person. Our last conversation in Kyoto didn’t go as planned and I just wanted to – I wanted to let you know that your past doesn’t make you a bad person.” Chifuyu takes another step towards him, cautiously, as if he is approaching a wounded tiger. “And that I don’t expect anything from you. You can come back and nothing will change. Remember when I told you that I just want to get to know you and be your friend? I still mean it.” Briefly, he drops his gaze to the ground, before admitting with a whiff of a guilty consciousness, “Yes, I caught feelings when I shouldn’t have. And of course, I still like you. But that’s my problem to deal with, not yours and I won’t bother you with this. I just – I want you to be happy, Kazutora.” Chifuyu gives him a warm smile, but he can feel how his eyes start to burn a little and the world gets blurry at the seams. “So please, think about it. You don’t have to stay here. You deserve so much better than this.”

Another sound of contempt slips through Kazutora’s lips. “And how is this supposed to work?” he grumbles. “I have no real job. No money. No nothing. Besides, being a convicted criminal doesn’t do well in a resumé.”

Despite the bluntness of his statement and the biting bitterness dwelling within, Chifuyu doesn’t shy away from him.

“You once told me that you wanted to study art, didn't you?” To back up his words, Chifuyu starts to rummage in his pockets until his fingers brush over the hard cover of Kazutora’s sketchbook. Determined, he holds it towards its owner who left it behind many weeks ago and briefly, a vulnerable emotion flickers through the golden eyes of his counterpart. 
“There are scholarships. And you could earn money with your model jobs. Besides, I’d love to help you. And I’m sure Baji would as well. You just – ”

“I told you that I’m not a model,” Kazutora cuts him off, eyes hard as coins again. “Wanna know what will happen if I get back to Kyoto now and apply for a model job? They’ll see my face on screen blowing a random geezer into oblivion. No thanks.”

“But – ”

“Even I have some dignity left in me. And I’ve learned my lesson now. This is all I am good for.” Unceremoniously, Kazutora spreads his arms. “Besides, it’s way more than I ever could’ve hoped to achieve. Shuji may be an asshole, but he has money. It’s not the worst way to live. So spare me your naive fantasies and grow up. This isn’t one of your stupid romance stories.” Disparagingly, he nods towards his sketchbook. “You can burn that shit for all I care.”

It’s hard to stomach. Every word spoken in cold resignation, but Chifuyu swallows down his overwhelming urge to argue in favor of keeping his hand reached out to him.

“You don’t have to decide now,” he tells him softly. “My door will always be open for you…”

“Just shut it close and throw away the key then. I don’t need it.”

Despite the harshness of his words, Chifuyu bridges the distance between them. Hesitates briefly, to leave room for retreat, but Kazutora doesn’t push him away when he pulls him into a gentle hug. He doesn’t return it. Remains stiff like a board, but at least he allows it. That’s all Chifuyu can ask for. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, pulling him a little closer. “I’m really sorry for everything that happened to you and no matter what you say or think: to me, you’ll always be special. A valuable friend, that I hold dear and I’ll never stop cheering on you.”

There’s a notable pause before Chifuyu gets a response in a voice that is raspy with an emotion he can’t quite name. “Safe your energy for someone who cares.”

Slowly, Chifuyu takes a step back. Releases Kazutora out of his embrace and gives him a pained but knowing smile. “You do. I know that you do. Else, you wouldn’t have bothered to come here and tell me all of this. But I also get that it’s not easy, so… please, take care of yourself.” His smile grows a little wider and a little more pained as well. ”And… you’re not worthless, Kazutora. Anyone who tells you differently can go to hell. They don’t deserve you.”

Kazutora says nothing, but swallows heavily and there’s a treacherous shimmer in his golden eyes he would deny forever. 

Chifuyu wants nothing more but to take him back to Kyoto now. Hold him close and never let him go, but he gets that taking another step back is all he can do for him now. Give him room to breath instead of pushing him into another corner. Although it’s one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

“I will go back home now. It kills me to leave you here, but…it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life.” He gives Kazutora his saddest smile. “Just know that there’s a place where you’re always welcome. And… I hope that you find your happiness out there, Kazutora. I really do.”

Tears dwell up in his eyes and if Kazutora can see them, so be it. He has nothing to hide from him. 

Chifuyu gives him one last glance. One last smile. One last chance to take his hand right here and now, but deep down he knows that he won’t. 

Not today. Not tomorrow. And maybe never.

Chapter Text

Kazutora stares at the item in his hands for solid five minutes. 

Objectively speaking, it doesn’t look like much. It’s just a plain envelope in the size of a piece of paper, addressed to a post office nearby. He just got the notification to pick it up. 

His name is written accurately onto the white paper and he doesn’t even need to take a look at the sender. It’s a handwriting he knows all too well.

Something in his chest tightens and a voice inside tells him to throw it away without taking a look inside, but he already knows that he won’t. He can’t.

Kazutora wants to hate him a little (but never could), but also is curious. Whatever is inside is only meant for him and not for Shuji’s nosy eyes.

With trembling fingers, he carefully opens the envelope, heart skipping a beat when he takes a look inside. 

The first item brings a strained smile to his lips, for the memories it holds are dear, but the pain of loss follows soon after. 

It’s his sketchbook. The one he refused to take back as he burned down the very last bridge leading back to the pipedream he abandoned. In Chifuyu’s hands, he deemed it safe enough to leave it behind. 

But it doesn’t end here. There’s a smaller envelope inside and a folded piece of paper. Kazutora aims for the letter first and the familiar handwriting is enough to send another ache through his chest.

Dear Kazutora,

I don’t know if you’ll read these words, but if you do, I hope you’re well.
This letter isn’t supposed to bother you and maybe you’ll get mad at me for this, but I couldn’t help it.

First of all, I’m sending you your sketch book. It didn’t sit right with me to keep it, since I know how you feel about this. (If you want me to keep it and shut it away, you can send it back of course. But I want you to decide what to do with it.)

The second part is where you’ll probably get mad it me (I hope you’ll read this before you open the second letter). Remember when I told you about a scholarship? I did some research and in the end, I just had to try. Maybe you’ll hate me for this (I understand if you do), but I sent them a few of your sketches, pretending to be you. You’ll find their answer in the second envelope. It’s an invitation to have an interview about a possible scholarship, which means you’re on the shortlist.

It’s up to you what you’re making out of this. I just wanted to let you know that their might be a chance to follow this path if you ever want to. 

I also added two train tickets for a ride to Kyoto and back, in case you decide to go to the interview. You can always stay at my place or Baji’s, of course, and if you need anything, we’ll gladly help, but that’s completely up to you. 

If you want to do this alone, go for it.
If you want our support, go for it as well.
If you want to throw this letter away and hate me for it, also go for it. It’s a risk I’m taking, not because I don’t care about the consequences, but because I care about you deeply.

Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again with this (unless you ask me to).

Take care, Kazutora.

Chifuyu

With huge eyes, he stares at the piece of paper in his hands. Wrinkles start to form where he grips it too tightly. 

It’s strange, but he feels no anger inside. Not an ounce of an ill feeling towards Chifuyu for doing this. But something pulls at his heartstrings and his lips form into a tiny, desperate smile as he tries to swallow down the tears that try to well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s pathetic, but the thought that someone out there still cares, despite it all, makes him soft where he shouldn’t be. 

…things would actually be easier if he could just hate him, huh.

It’s been three months since their last conversation and truth be told, he actually thought that he’d never hear from Chifuyu again. Or not so soon.

Kazutora would be lying if he said that it doesn’t make him (really fucking) happy to hear from him, but the price is a stabbing pain in his chest. It’s not been nearly enough time to get over the whole situation and thinking about Chifuyu is a dangerous road to take, paved with memories to cherish, but the aftertaste is bitter and suffocating like cold ashes. 

With a weird feeling in his guts, he now takes a closer look at the smaller envelope. Inside are indeed two train tickets and the mentioned invitation for an interview. 
Briefly, he skims over the words. Holds the solid evidence in his hands that some of his messy sketches were enough to be considered for a scholarship. It’s supposed to be in three weeks, on an early Wednesday afternoon…

For a few seconds, he just stands there, trying to figure out what to do with this. 

It’s a stupid naivety. A hopeless dream. A kick in the stomach. A chance. A shackle. A way out. Impossible. An opportunity. A cruel reminder of what he can never achieve. 

Carefully, Kazutora shoves everything back into the huge envelope. Swallows down the weird feeling that settles in his throat. His heart is beating like mad and he maltreats his lower lip with his teeth. 

It’s obvious that throwing the thing away as a whole – or even better, burn it to ashes – would be the most reasonable thing to do, but something holds him back. He can’t really tell what it is, but…getting rid of it just doesn’t sit right with him yet. So he brings it to the only save place that he knows.

First, Kazutora buys a new pack of cigarettes in the nearest kombini, to get his hands on a plastic bag and wraps everything inside. Then, he heads straight for the old arcade hall. It takes him a few minutes to find it, but he remembers a lose stone on the ground that is perfect to hide things underneath. 

It feels weird to leave something that makes him so vulnerable here, but he’d never dare to let Shuji even get close. If he did, the only part of him that this man could never touch would be ripped out of his hands and teared to shreds as well. Kazutora isn’t sure if he’d ever recover from this. 




“Ah, there you are!” Shuji greets him with a toothy grin and an inviting gesture. The restaurant he picked can barely be called high class, which means the designer today isn’t too wealthy. Kazutora tries to count it as a good sign. Less money means less room for special requests, but it’s only a faint hope. “We were just talking about you, take a seat.” He points towards the space right next to him in an elegant sitting niche. 

Kazutora nods towards the man at the other side of the table. He’s in his mid thirties, tall and rather unremarkable with his short, dark hair and brown eyes. What stands out the most is his poison green tie.

“Did I promise too much? What do you say?” Shuji chats easily as Kazutora sinks down next to him and soon, the familiar weight of Sin and Punishment rests on his shoulders to present him like a product that’s to be inspected by a customer. 

“Not at all. He looks amazing.” White teeth flash up in a grin. “Ah, but where are my manners? Good evening, Hanemiya. Kobayashi my name. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Hearing his last name always leaves a nasty taste on his tongue, but he swallows it down, alongside with his overall uncomfortableness. 

“The pleasure is mine.” Kazutora forces a charming smile onto his lips and reaches out his hand for a shake. The designer, whose name he already forgot, takes it with delight and gives a gentle squeeze. An unpleasant shiver runs down his spine, but he doesn’t flinch and keeps his smile like a shield.

“We just skimmed through Kobayashi’s newest collection,” Shuji informs him and kneads his tensed shoulders as if to calm him down. “I’m sure you’ll love it.”

A designer map is shoves towards him and while the two man discuss different outfits, Kazutora spaces out. He can already tell that this isn’t going to be a normal model job from the way this guy acts, but his hopes weren’t all too high to begin with.

Since he returned, Shuji barely leaves him any room to breath. Before Kazutora ran away, he came up with a shady  job about once or twice a month. Uncomfortable, but bearable. But now? It’s at least one fucked up job per week and since they got over with that damn filming request, he secretly fears what’s coming next.

It’s to repay his debts faster, Shuji never tires to tell him. As if he owes this man anything but his deepest despise.

The evening passes by as if he’s nothing but a bystander and he only participates when he must. Sprinkles in a delightful smile now and then and leans in more towards Shuji when he wraps an arm around his waist and Sin starts to lazily caress the skin underneath his shirt, subtly and hidden from the excited eyes of the designer. 

Deep down, he just wants to close his eyes and go to sleep, but whenever his mind is about to drift away, it lands on an envelope carefully hidden underneath a lose stone. He only allows himself to linger there for a few, fleeting heartbeats, but in the days that follow, he always catches himself getting back to it. 

It becomes a balancing act between the soothing effect a nice daydream can have and the crushing weight of reality, but sometimes, he dares to stay a little longer. Think about a world where it might become reality. 

Looking back, Kazutora can’t really tell what shifted the scale. Weather it was another sickening ‘job’ or a humiliating comment Shuji dropped like bullets from a gun, but somehow, he finds himself back at the arcade hall on a Wednesday.

It’s early in the morning and cold enough for his breath to from little clouds in the air, but the sun is already rising. 

He asked for a day off. A day to clear his mind. Shuji granted it with a smirk, twirling a strand of his blond hair around his finger. His eyes gleamed with amusement when he added, “As long as you don’t run away from me again, tiger.”

Kazutora’s stomach dropped, but Shuji only laughed and pulled him closer. Smothered him in a kiss clad in smoke. That night, Sin and Punishment felt like relentless shackles around his body.

Just like when Kazutora picked up the envelope for the first time, he just stares at it for some minutes as if it holds all the secrets of the universe.

Inside are still the invitation, the train tickets, his sketchbook and Chifuyu’s letter. All he needs to do is get to the station and take the next train to Kyoto. He checked the schedule and knows exactly which one to take. Slipped into his most reputable set of clothes, but it feels wrong. As if he tried to get into a role that doesn’t fit him. A tiger pretending to be a fish. 

Actually, he shouldn’t even bother to try. It will lead nowhere. He already knows. 

But like a moth drawn to the moon, he can’t help but trying to reach it; until he collides with the glass of reality and breaks his wings once and for all.

Something must be fundamentally wrong with him. 

Sucking in his lower lip, Kazutora checks the time. Still an hour until he’d need to take the train…

There’s also a message on his phone and Shuji’s name settles like a rock in his guts. Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, he opens the chat, heart suddenly in his mouth. It’s panic, he realizes. Panic that Shuji orders him to cancel all of his plans for today and come to him instead. Panic that he’ll destroy this chance before he even tries, cause hand on heart, Kazutora doesn’t have what it takes to come up with a suitable lie if it came down to it. His dread of the possible consequences is way too overwhelming. 

But contrary to his fears, it’s just a picture of a pricy looking hotel room, accompanied by the words, Found this nice, little room and thought you might like it. Care to join me for the weekend, pretty tiger?

It’s supposed to be a treat. Something to keep him going between all the shit that Shuji demands from him. Kazutora knows the pattern by now. 

Do I get something nice to wear…?, he plays along, ignoring the sickening feeling in his guts. He knows that he should be grateful. Instead, he dreads the weekend now.

In favor of waiting for a response, Kazutora gets moving. His fingers search for a much needed cigarette and the smoke soon calms down his nerves a little. 

It’s not that he actively decides to go to the station, but it’s where his feet get him. Still half an hour to go. Still plenty of time to chicken out.

To keep himself busy, he walks over to the nearest coffee shop and gets himself some caffeine. It resembles a place he knows like the back of his hand, but the aprons of the staff are not colored in burgundy but pale green and instead of a blond guy with excited eyes an overworked girl with a bob cut takes his order. 

Of course, he thought about contacting Chifuyu. Or Keisuke. More than once, but just like all those times before, he shoves this train of thoughts immediately away. 

He has nothing to offer them. Not even words of any value.

It takes forever until the train finally arrives and Kazutora’s head snaps left to right for the nth time, checking if someone might see him. It’s stupid, but to him it feels like doing something forbidden. The collar around his neck has gotten tighter, the leash shorter and Shuji knows exactly how hard he needs to pull to keep him in place. 

But the man in question just sent him a teasing message about teaching a greedy tiger a lesson on the weekend and that he’s looking forward to it. Apart from that, he doesn’t seem to care what he’s up to right now. Which is a relief.

Fighting down his unease, Kazutora enters the train. With his head kept low, he takes the next best seat and tries his hardest to not overthink. Spoiler: the train doesn’t even get moving before his mind starts to spin and it’s a miracle that he doesn’t just get off at the next station and travels back to Tokyo immediately. 

When the main station of Kyoto comes into sight, his heart sinks. It’s stupid, but a part inside wishes to see a familiar face waiting to pick him up. Someone who’d greet him with a bright smile and maybe even another someone who’d give him a reassuring pat to the shoulder, despite being pissed to the max. Yeah. Kazutora can totally see that…

But he didn’t contact neither of them and true to his words, Chifuyu stayed away. He’d drop everything and come immediately if Kazutora asked him to. Even Keisuke would. Deep down he knows. He knows it so damn well.  

Pushing these things aside, he gets out of the train and heads straight for the art department. No detours or stopovers. No room for second guessing either. 

Luckily, the building is miles away from the main university campus, so there’s no way he’ll run into someone he knows. If he did, he’d probably lose his courage and run away without getting a single word out. He’s in no shape to meet anyone in this town who ever had the doubtful pleasure to get to know him. 

When he arrives, there are still two hours left until his interview. Nothing that helps to soothe his nerves. Finding the room only takes another five minutes and since he doesn’t really trust himself to return if he leaves the building now to take a smoke, Kazutora sinks down onto one of the chairs that are lined up in the hallway. 

Pressing the envelope against his chest as if his life depends on it, he tries to blend with the wall and not draw any attention to himself. Luckily, everyone seems way too busy with themselves to take any notice of him, but he scans his surroundings with the precision of an inspector investigating the scene of a crime. 

When the door suddenly opens and another applicant steps out, a huge portfolio tugged under their arm, Kazutora freezes. 

It’s a nicely dressed girl who is welcomed by a bunch of friends and an elderly woman down the hall. Probably her mother. They cheer for her with brightest laughter and Kazutora sinks deeper into his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s painfully obvious that he doesn’t fit in here and the longer the waiting, the more uncomfortable it gets.

He has no idea what to even expect from that interview. Weather he should have prepared something, like the girl obviously did, or not. All he has is his messy sketchbook and the invitation letter Chifuyu send him.

Is this even enough…? 

Quickly, he waves that thought and the accompanied panic aside. No matter the outcome, this is just – it’s nonsense. An act of desperation. Even if the impossible happens and they’d actually consider him for that scholarship, he can’t just leave Tokyo. Can’t leave Shuji. He would – 

Kazutora grits his teeth, trying to fight down the nasty heat of shame that crawls up his spine. No one would take someone in like him, would they? It’s not the fashion world, but still. Somewhere out there, the evidence exists. In the palms of a man who marked his hands with Sin and Punishment – and the mere thought is enough to make him want to dig a hole to hide inside forever.

With restless fingers, he digs out his sketchbook. Pulls it close to his chest, so no one can take a look inside. Tries to busy himself with clumsy pencil strokes, until breathing becomes a little easier and only a certain heaviness remains in his guts. It’s a weight he learned to live with. 

“Hanemiya Kazutora?” The sudden sound of his name makes him flinch slightly and his heart starts to race as if he’s being caught in the act. Quickly, he closes his sketch book and tries to look all calm and collected when he faces an older man with graying hair at his sides and a thin framed pair of glasses sitting on his nose.  

“Yes?” he brings out. Straitening his back is an automatism and he can totally see how the man gives him a quick once over, but nothing betrays his thoughts.

“You can come inside now.” His voice is friendly and calm as he gestures inside the room, but Kazutora is still on edge.

With a hasty nod, he gathers his few belongings and follows the invitation to step inside with his head down low. 

He is greeted by another man and a woman, both wearing a reassuring smile on their lips. They look a bit younger than the man who picked him up outside, “Hanemiya, hello. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Do you want a coffee? Tea?” the woman chatters easily and it’s an automatism for him to deny.

“No, I’m fine,” he replies quietly. “Thanks.”

“If you change your mind, just tell me.” Her smile is an understanding one and Kazutora feels like she can read him and his uncomfortableness like an open book, which makes things only worse. 

The door is being closed somewhere behind his back and he throws a curt look over his shoulder, which is another automatism. Heart drumming against his ribcage like a jackhammer, he tries to calm down and takes the seat that has been offered to him. His sketchbook looks rather small and puny on the wooden table and despite the welcoming and relaxed atmosphere, he feels like sitting in a trial. 

“Alright.” The older man clears his throat. “Welcome to the University of Arts in Kyoto. I am Kato Masahiro, professor for applied arts and these are my colleagues Oba Natsuki and Hotta Atsushi, both lecturers for traditional art.” He gives them both an appreciative nod, before turning his attention to him. “We’re here to get to know you a bit and discuss the conditions for a possible scholarship, but first we’d like to know why you have applied to our university."

“I didn’t,” Kazutora reveals the truth, biting his lower lip. Lying just doesn’t feel right. Not when it’s about his art. “Someone else did for me. They liked my sketches and send them to you.” Discouraged, he shakes head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m not suited for your university. I didn’t take any art classes in the past or went to a fancy art school. I just – it’s a hobby. Nothing more.”

Eyebrows shoot up and Kazutora can tell that the old man isn’t too fond of that revelation, but to Kazutora, it’s strangely liberating to be honest for once. Not to pretend or play a role. 

…it’s probably also pretty self-destructive, but he has nothing to lose anyway. 

“But why did you come here today if you think of it as just a hobby?” the woman gently inquires as if she actually tries to understand him. 

“I – don’t know. Out of a stupid naivety I guess.” Kazutora admits with growing unease. He realizes only now that he’s wasting everyone’s time here. “Sorry for bothering you. I – good luck finding someone for the scholarship.”

Quickly, he jumps to his feet and nearly knocks the chair over in his attempt to get away from here as fast as possible. Just when he is trying to keep it upright at the backrest, the professor speaks again. 

"Hanemiya. Do you know who our scholarship is for?"

Caught off guard, Kazutora stops in his movement and shakes his head a little. It’s an automatism to tense when an older man calls him. 

“Students with a vision. With passion. Art isn’t about perfection. It’s about expressing yourself.” The man makes a meaningful pause as if he wants his words to sink in. “I want to be frank with you. I’m a little startled, but appreciate your honesty. It’s also what I see in your sketches.” He spreads out a couple of sheets on the table and Kazutora recognizes his own drawings. It must be the copies that Chifuyu send in. “Honesty. Raw emotions. Your art has a story to tell.” Now, he nods towards his sketchbook that rests untouched on the table. “If you want to show it to the world and learn how to polish your skills, feel free to apply again. On your own, this time. Then, we can talk about a possible scholarship and the conditions.” 

Kazutora’s eyes widen, but it’s too much to process. Too overwhelming to handle. 

“I’m living in Tokyo,” he stutters, unsure, how to even respond. “I – can’t just come over again so easily. I’m sorry…” Something in his voice is about to break and he turns away. Turns away from these people who seem to mean well. Turns away from his sketchbook. Turns away from this dream. 

He just – he can’t do this.

When he reaches the door, fingers already wrapped around the handle, he pauses one last time. Kazutora doesn’t find the courage to look them in the eyes, but at least he manages to get out a few, clumsy words.  

“Thank you for – just thank you.” It’s barely more than a murmur, but all he can muster right now. With that, he rushes into the hallway. Feels relieved in a way, but there’s also a huge lump in his throat and his eyes start to burn even before he reaches a restroom to get some much needed privacy. 

Muffling a gasp, he sinks down in one of the cabins and his body starts to shake miserably as hot tears dwell up in his eyes. 

He cries in silence. Can’t even tell what exactly he’s crying about, but he wishes he was a man who could stomp back into that room and tell them in the brightest colors about all of his ambitions and dreams. Paint them a future that is worth to chase, worth to support, worth to live. But he isn’t. Instead, he is a man who dreads coming home, because all that awaits him are sins and punishments. 

But he’ll return anyway.

After all, he never learned how to follow a dream.

Chapter Text

There are days when Chifuyu hates his job.

For the whole of five minutes he already discusses the list of ingredients with a customer who wants to know about the origin of every damn grain of sugar in the cake. 

“And the apples are imported from New Zealand, probably?” the man in front of him, who apparently never visited such a coffee shop before, moves on to the next topic and Chifuyu’s forced smile freezes.

“I really don’t know, sir. We get our pastries from the local bakery I told you about, but I can assure you that they use fresh and good products.” His patience is running thinner and thinner and his co-worker can probably tell, because Kimura, someone bless her, jumps to his aid. 

“Matsuno, could you please get me a new palette of milk out of the storage room? I’ll handle the register in the meantime.”

“Of course,” he exclaims over his shoulder, throwing her his most thankful glance and she answers with a wink and a thumbs up. Yeah. They are a good team. Especially since Chifuyu called out these losers who tried to hit on her in the past.

“Excuse me, sir. My colleague will take over,” Chifuyu tells the man with his best version of an apologetic smile, but it probably looks about as honest as a shady door-to-door salesman trying to sell you rubbish. 

A deep sigh escapes his lips as soon as he reaches the safety or the storage room. The day already started with a demanding woman who wanted a refund, because according to her, there was too much milk froth in her latte macchiato, robbing her of the coffee she paid for. Next, there was a bunch of giggling first semester taking forever to decide as they whispered excitedly fourth and back and blocked the whole line. In the end, he was handed a messily scribbled down phone number, before they left without ordering anything. 

And now this guy! Today seems to be official let’s-annoy-Chifuyu-day or something and the worst part? His shift is another three hours longs, which means a lot more time for a lot more annoying stuff to happen.

Motivation somewhere below sea ground, he grabs the palette of milk and returns to the frontline. He’ll just stay in the background for a while and focus on the coffee making rather than the selling. They all have these days and thank god he can always rely on his colleagues. 

It only takes a tilt of his head and a light nod towards the sideboard and Kimura gets it immediately, handing him the receipts with the next orders, together with an understanding smile. He takes them with a thankful nod and gets to work. A plain coffee. A caramel macchiato. Another plain coffee, but with a sprinkle of almond milk.

Chifuyu arranges the different drinks on a tray and adds the pastries and snacks that Kimura already prepared. When his gaze falls onto an egg sandwich that goes with the plain coffee, his heart aches a little. It’s not much. Just a little pinprick of melancholia that brings a wistful smile to his lips, but he can easily handle it.

It’s not always been like that. In the beginning, it hurt like salt in a fresh wound. Every little piece that reminded him of Kazutora sent a new wave of pain through his chest. But over time, the gaping wound grew smaller. Turned into a scar that sometimes aches under the weight of a memory, but doesn’t rob him of the air to breath anymore.

It’s been about three quarters of a year since they last spoke face to face and he has never heard of him once since then. No message. No missed call. No nothing.

At first, Chifuyu still had some hope, but even he realized at some point that all he could do was to accept Kazutora’s decision and move on, like Baji told him. No matter how hard it was. But deep down, he never forgot. Of course, he didn’t. Neither of them did.

Gently, like you’d wipe dust from an old photograph, he lets go of the notion and brings the trays to counter. Work doesn’t wait for him and the next annoying customer is probably just waiting around the corner.

He spends the next hour at the coffee maker. Kimura handles the customers like a pro, but her smile grows alarmingly thin as well, so Chifuyu jumps in for another change. His bullshit batteries could recharge a little and they already survived the first rush hour. Only a handful of customers are inside now, giving them some time to breath and brace for the late afternoon. 

Just when Chifuyu is busy sorting in some small change into the cash register, someone quietly clears his throat.

“Can I have a black coffee?” 

He stops in his movements, the customer friendly smile already trying to stretch his lips, but something has him hesitating. As if in slow motion he lifts his head, staring at the person in front of him with eyes wide as moons. 

“No sugar or milk, please.” 

A small smile shows on the lips of his counterpart and nervous fingers rummage for something in a small shoulder bag to the sound of a softly ringing bell. The smile becomes a little insecure, when a handful of flyers are placed on the counter. “I also wanted to ask if I can leave some of these here. It’s for a vernissage…” 

Time seems to stand still. Blood rushes into his ears and all Chifuyu can do is stare, frozen in place, trying to comprehend the meaning of this. 

A few seconds pass. The man in front of him bites his lips, gaze drifting to the ground, timid and vulnerable and – Chifuyu’s legs start to move on their own. Guide him around the counter, quickly, as if every second counts. 

When he’s about three feet away, he stops once again. Scans him from head to toe. 

He wears his dark hair in a messy bun, but the blond strands that frame his face betray that its gotten longer over time. The prominent tigerprint jacket was changed for an olive coloured one. The rest of his clothes is baggy and looks rather comfy than the tight fit he used to present himself with. 

But what stands out the most are his eyes. The dark circles underneath faded to a healthier color and and there lies a certain glow in their golden tone, rather than a bleak numbness.

Tears are about to spill from the corners of Chifuyu’s eyes and he finally bridges the last distance between them. Opens his arms to pull him, pull Kazutora, into a tight embrace that is returned without hesitation. 

The shape of his body, the warmth it provides, the scent of his hair…it’s all so painfully familiar that he can’t help but to draw him even closer. Cling to him like a drowning man to a plank.

“I have no idea why you’re here, but – thank you. Thank you for showing up…” His voice is nothing more but a choked whisper, voice rough with the thin trail of tears that streams over his cheeks. 

It feels like a dream and even if Kazutora is just here to pay a brief visit, it means the world to him. Seeing him once again, alive and hopefully well, floods him with unspeakable relief and the thousands of questions in his head can wait. All that counts is that he is here.

“It’s a longer story, but… you’re still on your shift, aren’t you? Maybe we can meet afterwards…,” replies Kazutora, a small smile audible in his words. 

“I’ll use overtime hours and – ”

Kazutora interrupts him gently. “You don’t need to. Really. I won’t run away. I promise.” He takes a step back to throw him a weak, nearly sheepish smile. “I’ll just grab my coffee and wait until your shift is over.”

Chifuyu gives it a thought and although everything inside yells at him to not let Kazutora out of his reach again, he agrees. A single look at the waiting line tells him that Kimura is already handling way too much and he can imagine how nervous Kazutora must be about the whole situation, so he just presses his lips into a strained smile and gives him a nod. 

“Right. Let’s talk as soon as I’m free.” 

Kazutora seems equally relieved and grateful, throwing him an apologetic smile before he lines up again to get his coffee, while Chifuyu quickly wipes over his cheeks and tries to get back to work. Emphasis on tries.

At first, there’s enough to do to keep him occupied, but nevertheless he tries to sneak in as many glances as possible at Kazutora. Not just to reassure himself that he’s actually and still here, but – it’s been such a long time and he can hardly focus on anything else. Which seems to show.

It’s when he nearly mixes up two orders that Kimura has enough. “Alright, I have no idea what’s suddenly going on, but I think maybe you’ve had enough for today.” Her smile is kind, but something urgent lies in her tone.

Heat crawls into Chifuyu’s cheeks and he is quick to come up with an apology. “Sorry. It’s just – there’s someone waiting I haven’t seen in a really long time…”

“Yeah, I figured it must be someone important to you.” She smiles gently and Chifuyu realizes with slight horror that their short reunion was rather public, which adds just another embarrassing memory to his workplace. “It’s fine, Matsuno. I can cover for you until Agawa and Hayashi show up, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

She nods and gives him a thumbs up. Torn between embarrassment and gratefulness, Chifuyu makes a mental note to somehow make up for it in the future.

“My co-worker kindly kicked me out.” Chifuyu tries to appear as casual as possible when he approaches Kazutora. “Guess I was a little too distracted.” A soft sigh slips through his lips, but he shows a little smile. “Wanna take a walk?” Nodding towards the entrance, he presents two large coffee-to-go cups. His heart is beating like mad, but he hopes it doesn’t show too much.

Kazutora, who has been focused on his sketchbook, flinches a little, before he looks up to him. It’s a way too familiar sight and the small smile that forms on his lips looks like another apology. 

“Yeah, sure.” Quickly, he closes his sketchbook and shoves it messily into his sling bag, eager to get to his feet and follow him outside.

“You’re still drawing.” Chifuyu states, not without a glint of fondness and hands him one of the cups that he takes with a grateful nod.

“Yes…”

Kazutora doesn’t look him in the eye, gaze rather focused on the coffee in his hands. The way he chews on his lips is familiar, but apart from that, he looks totally different compared to the last time he saw him. Instead of unapproachable and cold, he appears rather nervous, even a little awkward, but the smile he wears really does look good on him. When it was about his art, Kazutora never smiled like this before.

They walk in silence for a few minutes, heading towards a park nearby. It’s late afternoon and the leaves colored by autumn are glistening in the slowly setting sun. Despite the burning questions that linger on the tip of his tongue, Chifuyu decides to wait for Kazutora to talk and not press for anything. 

It’s one of the first things he learned about him: back him into a corner and he’ll be gone in the blink of an eye. 

Absentmindedly, Kazutora plays with the lid of his cup. When he finally starts to speak, his voice is cautious and soft. 

“Sorry about disturbing you at work. I wasn’t really sure how to approach you, but I thought this is better than showing up uninvited at your doorstep. Just in case you – didn’t want to see me…” His lips form a smile, but something torn lies within.  

Chifuyu’s first urge is to object and tell him that no way in hell he wouldn’t want to see him, but he gets it, in a way. A lot of time passed and he would be careful as well to get into contact again. Especially with Kazutora’s background…

He answers with a reassuring smile that probably goes unnoticed. Kazutora seems to be rather focused on collecting his thought and takes in a deep breath before he finds his voice again.

“I wanted to thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.” The side-glance he throws him is cautious, but something deeply grateful lies within.

“What happened…?” Chifuyu can’t help but to ask, bracing himself for, well, the worst. Although Kazutora seems to be in a way better state now, he isn’t fooled. The horrors of his story never left his bones and he knows that Kazutora must have been through a lot more.

“I got your letter. The one with the invitation,” Kazutora admits, biting his lower lip. “At first, I wanted to curse and hate you for it, but…we both know I never could.” Something wistful flashes through his face. “I wanted to throw it away and just forget about it, but couldn’t do that either and somehow, I ended up on a train to Kyoto.”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen and he listens in genuine surprise and awe. Of course, he remembers the invitation. Remembers how desperately he tried to cling to the notion that it might reach Kazutora, but…he gave up on hoping that it left any impact a long time ago. 

“I fucked up the interview.” The attempt of a wry grin appears on Kazutora’s lips. “Told them the truth. That it wasn’t me who applied and that I’m surely not a good option to pick, but – they told me to try again, if I really mean it. So I did, in the end.” His golden eyes fall back to the coffee mug in his hands. “It wasn’t easy. Keeping this from Shuji. Deciding to actually give it a shot. It was scary as hell, but somehow… I needed to try.”

He wraps his fingers tightly around the paper mug, until coffee spills out of the little opening in the lid. 

“Shuji still has a lot on me. I don’t know if he – ” Kazutora gulps visibly. “What he does with it. Weather he already tried to use it against me or not, but I don’t want to be involved with the fashion industry anyway, so it should be fine.” He tries for a weak smile, but Chifuyu can tell how much it has him on edge. Which is only natural. If Chifuyu were in his position – damn, he can’t even imagine what it must be like and a wave of anger boils up in his stomach. This fucking bastard!

“So…you got accepted and want to move back to Kyoto?” Chifuyu asks carefully, keeping his frustration out of his voice. 

As if he’s caught in the act, Kazutora adverts his gaze back to the coffee. “I already did a few months ago, to be honest. They accepted me for the scholarship and my first semester is about to end.”

It’s another revelation that leaves him speechless and a ton of new questions pop up in his mind, above all how he got by all this time or how he didn’t notice that at all. It’s a big city, but… the thought that Kazutora has been in reach all this time leaves the echo of a dull pain in his heart. Nevertheless, there’s also a huge swell of pride dwelling within, because he knew it all along. He knew that Kazutora could get this scholarship if he tried.

“I wanted to achieve something on my own before I show myself again. Proof that I can be more than a problem that always needs to rely on everyone else. I already got so much from Kei and you…” Slightly, Kazutora shakes his head. “I couldn’t have taken more.” The way he bites his lower lip shows how uncomfortable he still feels about the subject and although Chifuyu doesn’t agree, he can understand where he’s coming from. Maybe, he would feel the same way if he were in his shoes… 

“But I’m fine now. I rented a small room in a student residence and got a part-time job in a record store and sometimes, I help out in a bar. It’s not much, but… with the scholarship, it’s enough to get by.” His smile has an apologetic tone. “Sorry. I kind of tried to avoid you and everyone else at all cost these past months. It’s nothing personal. It’s just…” Kazutora sighs softly and lands on a strained expression. “Fucking up and then come crawling back doesn’t feel too nice.”

“No one would think that way…” Chifuyu says softly. Sure, it’s been painful to be pushed away, but he knows that everyone would be happy to see him again and welcome him with open arms.

Kazutora arches an eyebrow to that. “I left without a single word. That’s not what I call friendship behavior.” Guilt-ridden, he shifts his gaze to the ground. “Keisuke can sing a fucking song about it.”

Chifuyu throws in a pinched smile. Technically, he can’t argue with that, but the harshness of that statement doesn’t sit right with him. “Maybe it’s not, but you had your reasons. I mean – ” Chifuyu bites his lips. Suddenly, there’s a huge lump in his throat and his voice becomes a lot quieter when he says, “You’ve been through so much, trying to handle everything alone… so I’m just glad that you decided to come back. It must have been hard.” And lonely. And devastating. And terrifying. 

Chifuyu can’t even imagine what it must have been like to take this step all alone, but… he did it. Kazutora was brave enough to actually do it and his admiration for him only grows. 

“You’re still way too nice. That’s exactly why I didn’t want to meet you before I got my shit together.” A weak smile is thrown at him and with his free hand, Kazutora rummages for something in his bag, revealing a small envelope. “Here. It’s the money for the train tickets.”

Once again, he is caught off-guard and his first impulse is to deny, but Kazutora is quick to add, “Take it, please. I know that you mean well, but… I’m tired of only taking and give nothing in return.”

Chifuyu swallows down his objections and lands on an understanding smile. This isn’t about the money. It’s about meeting as equals. “Right. Thank you.”

“No. I need to thank you. Without you, I’d still…” The last part of the sentence only comes out as a quiet mumble and Kazutora seems to get rid of of a certain thought with a shake of his head. “I owe you. More than big time.”

He doesn’t shy away from his gaze now and Chifuyu can’t help but to soften his face. “That’s what friends are for. Besides, I only gave you a gentle push into a certain direction, but you achieved this yourself, Kazutora. So please, give yourself some credit.” With a gentle smile, he adds, “But I’m always glad to help you. By now, you probably know that…” 

And it’s not just him. There’s someone else who’d also drop everything and come to his aid anytime if he asked…

“Say. Does Baji know…?” He picks up the thought, but before he can even finish his sentence, Kazutora already shakes his head. 

“No. I’ve been too much of a coward to face him yet.” A grim smile shows on his lips. “There are just too many reasons for him to punch me and tell me to fuck off forever.” 

It’s meant to come off as a joke, but the grain of genuine worry hidden within is painfully obvious.

“You know that he never would.” He gently points out.

“Yeah. That’s part of the problem. Makes me feel only worse.”

Compassion widens Chifuyu’s smile. “He’ll be mad for sure, but he’ll be more than glad that you’re safe now.” 

Kazutora answers with a pinched expression. “We’ll see about that. But I wanted to invite him to the vernissage and – maybe he’ll come.”

Chifuyu draws his eyebrows together and the questioning look on his face seems to show, because Kazutora is quick to explain, “It’s the one mentioned on the flyer. The one I gave you in the coffee shop. It’s… another thing I wanted to talk about.” Golden eyes dart back to the ground and his fingers start to fidget nervously at the plastic lid. 

Chifuyu, on the other hand, has to admit that he has completely forgotten about the flyer, but his interest is immediately piqued.

“It’s no big deal, but if you’ve got the time to spare, I’d like you to come over. The vernissage is – it’s also for a few pieces I made.” His smile is small, sheepish even. “It’s just a project for university and other student will be there as well, but – I thought, maybe you’d want to come.”

Fondness settles in his heart and he gives Kazutora his warmest smile. “Of course. I’d love to see it. After all, I was your first fan.” He tries for a little joke, tries to make this a little easier, but deep down it touches him to the core. Chifuyu knows how much this means and the great sign of trust it shows. 

“Don’t expect too much. It’s really just… a small exhibition.” Kazutora sighs and seems to shove away another thought before he faces him again. “Alright. I think I’ll be heading home now and – try to find the guts to contact Keisuke.” He tries for a smile, but it’s clearly torn. “Thanks for hearing me out and…see you in a week, I guess. For the vernissage.” His expression is equally grateful and timid, reminding him of a careful child. 

It tears at his heartstrings and Chifuyu can’t help but to give him his most genuine smile. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it,” he says, adding after a short moment, “And, Kazutora…?” 

Cautiously, the man in question looks over to him. 

“I’m really happy that you’re back.”

Their eyes lock for one, two, three, four, five fleeting heartbeats. Something unspoken lingers between them. The notion of what could be if things were different. If the last few months never happened. If Kazutora didn’t leave.

It’d be perfectly normal to invite him over. Celebrate his success with a can of beer and a movie on his couch. Talk until sunrise and watch the beginning of a new day on his balcony. Enjoy each others company and the ease it brings…

The moment breaks with a small smile, a brief nod and a quietly whispered, “Me too,” as he turns away to leave. The bell on his ear rings softly and Chifuyu watches him with warmth and wistfulness and a faint ache in his chest. 

He’s happy, genuinely happy, but somehow, he feels like crying. 

After a few minutes of just standing there, deeply lost in his thoughts, he remembers the envelope Kazutora gave him. Chifuyu can’t really tell what brings him to open it, but when he does, there’s not only money waiting inside. 

It’s one of the flyers and a folded piece of paper, signed with the words Thank you.

When he unfolds it, another wave of fondness hits his heart and if a tear breaks lose, he won’t deny it, but the smile on his face doesn’t waver for a second even.

It’s an old sketch of Peke J, wearing a shirt with his thousand winters logo. Chifuyu still remembers the playful bickering that evolved around it and although it hurts a little, like every memory of something you won’t get back does, he is hopeful.

Things might not get back to how they used to be, but they don’t need to. The most important thing is that Kazutora actually returned… he won’t ever ask for more. 

Chapter Text

If he could, Kazutora would have fled the scene a hundred times already. Move to a different town, where no one knows his name, forget about the whole incident and pretend it never happened.  

Well. Technically, he could leave of course… but deep down he doesn’t want to. He just wants this unbearable tension to end and jump to a place in time where he already survived the vernissage – and everything it involves. 

He can’t even tell what makes him most nervous: showing off his art or facing Keisuke again. If he comes. If he doesn’t – Kazutora tries to shove this nagging thought aside before it can fully bloom, but he knows that Keisuke not coming today would be worse than anything his best friend could ever say to him. 

His stomach twists, so he excuses himself with a weak smile to his fifth cigarette in one hour. His fellow student, a lively girl named Senju, just gives him an understanding nod and a thumbs up, indicating that she’ll cover for him if someone asks. 

Only four students got the opportunity to exhibit their work, so he is glad that Senju is part of it. Her fast flow of words can be overwhelming at times, but she is nice in her own way and wasn’t deterred by his rather defensive attitude towards others. 

Once he’s outside, he plucks out a cigarette with nervous fingers and tries to calm himself down. Showing his art to fellows students doesn’t feel weird anymore, but presenting it to other people still has him on edge. Especially when it’s people who know him.

In ten minutes, the whole thing is supposed to start and a small crowed already formed near the entrance. Mostly other art students and a few older women and men who are probably friends of their professor. Who else would come and visit a vernissage from some random first years anyway? 

Kazutora watches them from a certain distance, but his heart drops to the floor as soon as he can spot two familiar faces coming nearer and nearer. He nearly chokes on his next drag and freezes on the spot, heart beating like mad. 

Keisuke has come, he notes. He really has come…

When Chifuyu notices him he raises a hand to wave in greeting while Keisuke keeps his arms firmly crossed and follows some steps behind. Kazutora returns the gesture weakly and tries for a strained smile. 

This is even worse than showing himself to Chifuyu again.

He takes a last drag and gets rid of the other half of the cigarette, straightening his back as if to brace himself. 

“Hey!” Chifuyu greets him with a bright smile, while Keisuke already stopped somewhere behind him, leaving notably more distance between them.

Kazutora gives him a brief, appreciative nod, but keeps his focus on Keisuke, waiting for what’s coming next.

His best friend’s face is gloomy and doesn’t reveal anything. He just stares at him, calculating his next steps and the silence between them stretches into a cruel eternity.  

Kazutora knows that he deserves this or whatever Keisuke will throw at him, but he wished it would be over already. Any outcome is better than this unbearable tension. 

“So you’re really back,” grunts Keisuke eventually, tone rough around the edges. He doesn’t sound too pleased, but Kazutora can’t blame him at all.

“Yes…,” he confirms quietly, clinging to his sorry attempt of a smile, but he can’t keep up with Keisuke’s gaze.

“How long this time?”

He feels caught and comes up with a helpless shrug, cause how is he supposed to know…? What he wants is out of question, but he is well aware how fragile happiness and peace can be, so there’s no guarantee for anything. Fucking this up is still an option and he knows that any promise coming out of his mouth won’t mean anything to Kei. 

“I don’t plan on going back to Tokyo if that’s what you mean…,” he cautiously states. The mere notion makes his throat go all dry. “I came back for a new start, but I’m better prepared this time. I have a room, a job and the scholarship, so… I won’t be causing any problems.”

Lips stretched into another attempt of a sorry smile, he lifts up gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I know that I fucked up. Again. I don’t expect you to forgive me or anything, but thank you for coming here and – listen to this.” He takes in a very deep breath, trying to fight down the overwhelming feelings that come with the next words. “I understand if you want me to fuck off forever after everything, but before you go – take a look inside, please.” Weakly, he smiles at the floor, waiting in tension for what’s coming next.

The following silence feels like another eternity and when he spots a sudden movement in the corner of his eye, he nearly expects a punch. Instead, he is pulled into a bone crushing hug. “You’re still such a fucking – idiot,” Keisuek grits out and exhales deeply. “How often do I need to tell you that you can count on me? Do you need it as a tattoo? Will you remember it then?”

“Maybe that would help,” Kazutora replies softly and tries for another small smile as relief eases the heavy weight on his shoulders. It’s an automatism to fall deeper into the embrace. Lean against him like a pillar of strength. “I’m sorry. It was – messed up. But things are better now and… I left Shuji for good.” 

Keisuke’s sharp inhale is hard to miss and he can feel how his friend immediately tenses up in his arms. “I don’t know what that fucker did to you. Chifuyu didn’t tell me any details, but… if he ever dares to touch you again – ”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Kazutota is quick to assure and swallows down the bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Carefully, he takes a step back and promises with a genuine smile, “But thank you, Kei… one day, I will tell you everything.”

He owes him that. A full explanation. But that’s something for another time and day.

Keisuke just nods to this, a grim expression on his face, but there lies a warmth in his eyes that feels like home. His throat tightens and he needs to advert his gaze again, but he knows that Kei gets it without a single word being spoken. His eternal gratefulness for a friendship that goes deeper than any bond formed by blood ever could. 

“So. What’s with this versage thing now?” Keisuke eventually grumbles, nodding towards the entrance. 

Only now Chifuyu chimes in again. “You mean vernissage, Baji,” he corrects him cheerfully and the bright smile on his lips resonates with a part deep inside Kazutora.

It’s a hidden longing, accompanied by a faint ache in his chest, but he doesn’t linger long on it. 

“Yeah, uhm, it’s about to start in five minutes,” Kazutora says with a quick look at his phone. “Sorry, I need to get back inside. You’ll find me in the left corner, but it’s not that huge anyway.” With one last nervous smile, he rushes back towards the side entrance to slip inside. 

It’s a little chaotic, with everyone doing last minute preparations, so Kazutora can easily dodge attention and nosy questions when he heads for the backstage room to – well, catch another breath. 

It’s not surprising that his phone lightens up with a message from Senju asking where he’s at, since the whole thing is about to begin any second, but he can’t go out there and face Kei and Chifuyu now. Can’t see their first reaction. It’s way too…personal for that.

Sorry, I’ll need a few more minutes. I’ll be back soon.

You owe me a large coffee and a donut! :P But don’t worry, I’ll handle the crowd until you’re back.

Kazutora smiles a little and shoves his phone back into his pockets. He owes her a monthly load of coffee and donuts. 

With a soft sigh, he checks the time. Waiting something like ten minutes should be safe enough, he thinks. They should’ve found his stuff by then and get a look at it…

He knows that it’s stupid to hide. After all, he invited them here to see two pieces in particular, but – he’s just not ready yet.

It was just a fleeting idea, that turned into a messy sketch soon after. He didn’t even give it much thought, it just kind of happened…

The one with Kei was the first he worked on. It shows a scene from a well-kept memory that Keisuke probably doesn’t even remember, but Kazutora treasures it to this day. Their silhouettes are drawn with charcoal and so are the outlines of the rooftop, but the sky that unfolds in front of them is coloured in the warm shades of daybreak. 

Back then, Kei gave him shelter from a shitty night at his parent’s house and showed him the secret spot on the roof for the first time. They shared a blanket, ate cookies until their tummies hurt and talked until dawn about whatever kids who are about to grow into teens talk about, but it’s not the conversations he remembers to this day. It’s the feeling he had. 

It was warm. Cozy. Safe. 

And once the artwork was done, Kazutora knew the title immediately. 

Family.

It’s what Kei is to him. Someone he can always come back to. Who never lets him down. Supports him no matter what. Despite all the shit he pulled and the countless times he fucked up and hurt him, Kazutora always knew that if he needed something, Kei would be there in a second. No matter what. He’d always be there. 

Since the moment they met, it’s been that way and although he knows it’s a puny attempt to  make up for the countless times Kei helped him out, he hopes that his message somehow gets across through his art. 

And not only to Kei, but to Chifuyu as well. 

The artwork inspired by him also shows a scene that happened in the past and Kazutora still remembers it all to well. He even has the pic from that moment still saved on his phone, but preferred to stick to his memories when he created it. 

His own charcoal silhouette is sitting on a counter, watching the back of the figure that presents Chifuyu handling a huge coffee machine. Adding all the details from the coffee shop was a lot of work, but he recreated Chifuyu’s workplace as best as he could – although he only had eyes for the man in front of him.  

It wasn’t easy to capture the essence of the moment, but when he brought colors to the background and dyed the scene in shades of yellow, orange and light blue, the warm feeling in his chest returned. A bittersweet ache of melancholia also dwelled within, but that lies in the nature of happy memories, for they are always doomed to pass. 

Happiness is the title he gave that one. 

To an outsider it may not make sense, but Kazutora remembers vividly how in this exact instant of time he felt perfectly content – and that’s exactly what he tried to capture with his art. 

It was right before they crossed that line between friends and something more for the first time and although the kisses were great and the sex amazing in its own way, Kazutora would rather go back to that innocent moment if he could. Just watch Chifuyu in silence, how he prepares his own coffee creation in the middle of the night for them, with a bright smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheeks. 

Even now, the memory brings the ghost of a smile to his lips, but the familiar twinge in his chest follows soon after.

Maybe he should have stayed outside to see Chifuyu’s reaction… but he’s not brave enough for that, so Kazutora sticks to imagining how his oceangreen eyes widen in surprise when he recognizes the scene, before a wistful, but genuine smile will show on his lips. 

…why is he such a coward?

The soft vibration of his phone rips him out of it and he recognizes another message from Senju.

Where are you? Someone is asking for you, I said you’ll be here any moment. You didn’t tell me that you already have fans!? :D

They’re my friends, Kazutora feels the need to correct her, although he knows that Chifuyu would object, insisting that he is a fan indeed. The made up scene in his head brings another smile to his lips and Kazutora gets to his feed, reminding himself that there’s nothing to fear. Quite the contrary. They’ll probably like it… and if they don’t – they won’t judge him at least. Or make fun of it. Or use it against him. 

But just because he knows, doesn’t mean he isn’t nervous. Making himself vulnerable like this still is a challenge, no matter what his rational mind tells him. 

Hands buried in the pockets of his trousers, he sneaks out of the room and is welcomed by the chattering of the crowd. More people than he expected gathered here and Kazutora hopes that he doesn’t need to talk much.

Trying to avoid any unnecessary attention, he cautiously heads for the left corner of the room, but Senju’s watchful gaze spots him immediately. 

“There he is!” She waves at him enthusiastically, to which Kazutora only replies with a weak smile. Kei und Chifuyu, who are waiting with her in front of his small exhibition area, turn to him immediately, but Senju seems totally unbothered by the weird tension that lies in the air.

“Right, I’ll go back to my area now, come and visit me later!” she chatters cheerfully, before she tells Kazutora, “And you should stop hiding and take credit for your art!” Her tone is playful and warm, but he still hates how she sees right through him, although it’s probably not really hard to tell why he’s been absent… 

“Kazutora…” Chifuyu is the first one to approach him once she’s gone, voice gentle and brimming with emotions. 

Keisuke, on the other hand, can hardly look him in the eye and Kazutora is surprised to see a faint shade of red on his cheeks. 

“I’ll go looking for a drink or something,” he announces roughly, but briefly stops next to him. Kazutora nearly flinches when Kei grabs his shoulder to give it an acknowledging squeeze. 

“Your art – it’s amazing, Tora.”

In the short look they exchange lies everything Kazutora needs to know and the tension in his shoulders melts away under the small smile that forms on his lips. 

“Thank you, Kei…” It’s barely a whisper, but no more words are needed here. They’ve never been great when it comes to sharing emotions anyway, but they both understand. That’s all that matters. 

With Keisuke vanishing in the crowd, only Chifuyu remains, which does nothing to ease his nervousness, although his expression is gentle and reassuring. It speaks of a fondness that makes Kazutora’s heart ache and it’s hard to keep his gaze up, but he doesn’t shy away from him.

“So, what does my number one fan say?” he tries for some joking, but his smile probably looks rather strained than casual. “Do you like it?”

It’s ridiculous how anxious he is, cause this is Chifuyu and from his face alone he can already tell that he does, but he just can’t turn it off. 

Chifuyu’s smile deepens and he takes a step into his direction, before bridging the last distance between them to pull him into a tight hug. “It’s breathtaking, I – ” He swallows, voice soft and deeply touched. “I’m so proud of you. And – thank you. Just thank you. I feel so honored."   

When he takes a step back, Chifuyu reveals a smile that feels like the first rays of sunshine after a long and hard winter and Kazutora can barely stand all the tender emotions that linger within.

He tries for a similar smile as well and for a few heartbeats they just stand there, looking at each other with warmth and the affection he always tried to shove away. Now, Kazutora allows it to stay and he knows that it’s about time to finally take up the courage to say what’s been on his mind since they met again. 

“There’s – something I wanted to ask…,” he starts awkwardly, which earns him a questioning glance from Chifuyu and does nothing to ease his overall nervousness. 

Shit. Why is this so hard…? He’s been flirting casually with him all the time, yet, his heart feels like jumping out of his ribcage any second now.  

“I was wondering if – you want to go on a date with me,” Kazutora somehow brings out. “I don’t really know how to do this, but I wanted to do it properly.” There’s only a short break before he quickly adds, “It’s not supposed to be a sexual thing. Just – a date…”

Eyes wide as moons, Chifuyu stares at him in utter surprise (or is it shock?) and seems frozen in place. In the silence that follows, Kazutora realizes his massive foolishness and wishes to just turn back time or erase his own existence right here and now.

“You found someone,” he concludes the obvious and curses himself for being so damn stupid. How could he even have thought that someone like Chifuyu would still be single, let alone interested in him? After everything that happened, it’s only natural that he moved on and – found someone new. Someone better. Which isn’t even hard to begin with. Anyone would be a better choice than him, but –  

Shit. Why does he always fucks things up…? He promised to be better now. 

“Sorry. Let’s – just forget about it.” Kazutora forces a smile onto his lips. “I’m – going to take a smoke.” 

It’s probably very obvious that he just wants to get away as fast as possible, but before he can fully turn around, Chifuyu stops him.

“No, wait!” 

When Kazutora faces him again, he is confronted with an apologetic smile. “I – am just a little caught off guard. I never expected you to – ” He gestures awkwardly into the air, cheeks colored in a cute shade of red. “Ask me out.” Sheepishly, he looks up to him, before he slightly shakes his head as if he tries to get a grip on himself. 

“I’d love to, Kazutora. There’s no one else,” Chifuyu then answers with that gentle and genuine expression he couldn’t trust when they first met, but now it loosens the tight knot in his stomach and fills him with cautious relief; a tingle of excitement even. 

“Right. Good.”

They exchange an awkward smile or maybe it’s just him feeling awkward and he’s more than glad when Keisuke returns, but deep down he is… happy. 

It’s not that he expects anything from this and even if things don’t work out, he’s just looking forward to spending some time with Chifuyu again. 

It’s something he really missed…

Him, a quiet voice inside whisper. It’s him he missed. 

Kazutora arrives way too early. He’s been racking his brain for a good idea and landed on something he still isn’t really convinced about, but it’s the best he could come up with. 

Going out on a date really isn’t something he’s used to. He only knows how to hook up with a stranger or have fancy dinners with Shuji, which are both things he rather wants to cross out of his memories forever. 

Sure, he could take Chifuyu to a restaurant and he probably would appreciate it, but – it doesn’t seem fitting. 

Money and status aren’t things he cares about, which makes things easier and also harder, because Kazutora can’t provide any luxury, but doesn’t really have a clue what else to do.

He knows about a lot of things that bring a smile to Chifuyu’s face and it’s obvious that he has a thing for romantic stuff, but all Kazutora came up with seemed so small and insignificant that he dismissed it right away.

He really wants to do this right and – make him feel special… 

Even thinking it out aloud seems cheesy, but it’s the truth. For the first time, it really means something to him which makes this so much scarier. 

With a deep sigh, Kazutora takes a drag from his cigarette and uses his free hand to rummage around in his bag until his fingers hit the solid surface of his sketch book. The hard concrete floor in front of the campus building may not be the most comfortable place, but he gets down into a cross-legged seat and busies his mind and fingers with his pencil. 

It became a habit and helps him to calm down. Turns out that doodling around is way better than getting lost in his own stupid thoughts. The only downside is that sometimes he gets so absorbed that he forgets everything around him.

He can’t really tell how long Chifuyu already stands there and watches him, but when he looks up out of a hunch, he is confronted with oceangreen eyes and a warm smile. It’s a little overwhelming, like getting a compliment you don’t really feel like deserving, but he can handle it a lot better now.

“Since when are you here?” he asks, trying to appear all calm and casual. 

“A few minutes. Sorry. I didn’t want to come off as a creep, it’s just – it’s so nice to see you drawing again. Can I take a look?”

It’s nothing unexpected and Kazutora hands it over without much hesitation, but the smile on his lips is rather insecure. Not because he fears judgment. It’s just an overall feeling.

“Sure. It’s just the street though. I need to practice drawing backgrounds...” 

Chifuyu nods, eyes focused onto the lines he just brought to paper. “It’s so detailed,” he mumbles to himself, holding up the sketchbook to compare it to the real deal. “I’m amazed as always. Your number one fan approves.”

The grin he throws him is bright, maybe a little challenging as he hands him the sketchbook back, but Kazutora just takes it with a small smile and gets back to his feet.

“Thanks.” Pretty boy. The addition lingers on the tip of his tongue, but remains unspoken. Somehow, it feels misplaced and he doesn’t want Chifuyu to think that he’s messing with him, but he’s not really sure how to act either. It’s like walking on ice with your eyes closed, so every step he takes is cautious and unsteady and a possible mistake. 

There’s an awkward pause, probably because he messed up the mood a bit, so he is quick to change the topic.

“Thanks for coming. It doesn’t look like much, but – I want to show you something,” he explains, gesturing towards the building behind him. It’s a short walk away from the main campus of the art university and mainly used for seminars. 

“Alright, lead the way.” Chifuyu doesn’t seem bothered at all, smile still all bright and warm, but he just can’t stop being on edge. Their interactions used to be so light and easy, but he fucked that up by any means possible and has no real clue how to fix it. 
With Kei, he always tried to act as if nothing happened, but he can’t do this anymore. Chifuyu knows way too much and – he agreed to come here today anyway. Despite everything, he came here today, so maybe he should try to focus on that…

With an unsure smile, Kazutora gives him a nod and leads him towards the building. It’s amazing, really, how even now Chifuyu manages to lighten the mood within seconds just by talking about how his day went as if he’s not bothered by his awkward behavior at all. Although it should be the other way around since this was his idea, but Kazutora is grateful anyway. 

It takes some time to climb all the stairs to the top and at one point, Chifuyu states, clearly out of breath, “I won’t question where you’re taking me, but – please tell me there aren’t many stairs left to take.”

Kazutora turns to him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. We’re nearly there.”

It’s the truth. On top of the next stair is the door he has been looking for. With the key he got from his lecturer by stating he’d like to work over the weekend on his current projekt, he lets them inside; or rather outside. 

The roof is empty, except for the two cushions he has put down and the pile of snacks and drinks resting in between. It’s a selection of four store bought bento boxes, a few onigiris with tuna, salmon, chicken and avocado and some sweet stuff like melonpan, mochis, a small cake and cookies. To round it up, he also got some cans of beer, green tea, soda and a thermos flask with warm tea and another one with coffee. Maybe it’s a little too much, but he wanted to be prepared.

To him, it looks rather puny and the fairy lights he arranged around the area don’t help either since it’s still too bright for them to really have an effect. Looking at it now, he kind of regrets his decision to pick this place and it’s an automatism to come up with a quick explanation. 

“I know this place from a little semester party we had here. The view is nice and I remembered that you like to watch sunsets, so I thought it might be a good idea to come here…” He doesn’t really look at Chifuyu as he walks towards the sitting area he prepared, fearing to see a hint of disappointment on his face. Everything seems cheap and not enough to be labeled as something special. 
“I know that it can’t compare to your place at the river, but – I thought it might be better to pick something else.” A strained smile stretches his lips and he quickly changes the topic, gesturing towards the snacks now. “I also wasn’t sure about the food, so I bought a bit of everything. It’s from the kombini near your apartment, since I know you always liked the food there, but it’s nothing special. I just – tried I guess.” 

Everything he says sound like an excuse and he probably would’ve come up with more if it weren’t for Chifuyu who interrupts his stupid rambling with a gentle smile. 

“It’s perfect. You really gave this a lot of thought and… I’m happy.” His smile deepens into something nearly wistful. “I’ve been looking forward to this the whole day and it still feels a little unreal, but I’m also kind of relieved now. Usually, I’ve always been the one who’s all overwhelmed and flustered around you, so it’s good to know that it’s not just me.” It’s just a gentle tease not meant to harm, but to add some lightness to the conversation. “But there’s nothing you need to worry about. I’m just glad that you’re back and – want to spent time with me.” 
A sheepish laugh falls from Chifuyu’s lips and he briefly rubs over the back of his head. “Okay, this is getting embarrassing. I’ll just stop talking now and rather listen to how your new life as a partying college student is going.”

Kazutora can’t help but to laugh a little as well and he gladly picks up the threat. “There’s not   much to talk about. I’m not going out a lot, so I don’t have any flashy stories to tell, but – it’s nice.” The revelation brings a genuine smile to his face. “Mostly, I’m at the record store or draw some stuff or both. Guess my days as a cool, unapproachable model are over.” He tries for a little joking as well, but the aftertaste on his tongue is a little bitter. It’s easy to swallow down when he’s with Chifuyu though, who gives him an amused grin.

“I see. You’re in your mysterious artist era now. But I hope you’ll never forget about your first fan once you’re rich and famous.”

“No. I’d never forget about him. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him, after all.” Kazutora changes his playful tone for a heartfelt smile and can see a flicker of surprise flashing through oceangreen eyes, but he lands back on a lighter note without much effort now. “Plus, he’s a real cutie. But don’t tell him or he might find out that I like him.” 

The bemused smile he is rewarded with leaves a tingle of excitement in Kazutora’s chest and Chifuyu plays along with a conspiratorial expression on his face.

“Oh, what a coincidence, I heard that he likes you too – but don’t worry, I won’t tell if you promise the same.”

Kazutora can’t suppress an amused snort and takes the hand that is offered to him for a brief shake. It’s warm and soft in his palm. 

“Deal.”

The connection last for a few shared heartbeats and Kazutora would’ve loved to linger longer in this moment, but he doesn’t argue when Chifuyu gently withdraws his hand. 

They settle down on the cushions he brought and he realize right away that they are far from comfortable on the hard ground below. Some of the onigiri also got a little squashed in his bag and the coffee turns out to be lukewarm. He also forgot to bring mugs, which means they have to share the lid of the thermos flask and the cloudy sky doesn’t really promise a good view on the sunset either (if they even can get a glimpse at all).

There are a ton of other things he could point out as well that contradict Chifuyu’s words and make this far from perfect, but he realizes that it doesn’t have to be. This never was about perfection. It’s about lightness and laughter and…happiness. Being with Chifuyu always came with these things and the more they talk, the more Kazutora eases into the situation and even forgets to overthink for a while.

Sure, there are tiny moments of hesitation or awkwardness in between, but overall it nearly starts to feel like nothing really changed between them. Not in a fundamental way.

It’s only when their date is coming to an end and they are about to part ways that he’s getting back to carefully thinking about his next steps; what would be appropriate or not; what Chifuyu might expect even. 

Usually, that would be the part where you’d invite someone over to your place and hook up, but he made clear that this is not supposed to be about sex, so… they’ll just say their goodbye and call it a day now? He’d love to spend more time with Chifuyu, but – for a first date, he probably should draw the line here…

“I really loved the view!” The man in question breaks cheerfully into his useless train of thoughts. “But we totally need to go and see another sunset. The clouds really messed with us, I feel betrayed.” 

“Yeah…” It’s a weak response paired with an equally weak smile, but Kazutora has a hard time to read the situation. Something seems to linger in the air, but he just can’t grasp it.

“I had a really great time. Thank you for taking me here and – I’d really love to do this again.” Chifuyu gives him a gentles smile and looks at him with so much fondness that he has a hard time to keep his gaze or come up with a response in general.

His throat tightens and he feels like being on the brick of messing this up if he isn’t careful now. He can’t even tell why, it’s just – he’s really not good with this and probably doesn’t meet Chifuyu’s expectations at all.

“Me too,” Kazutora somehow gets out and manages another thin smile that can’t compare to Chifuyu’s in the slightest.

There’s an awkward pause. A moment where he feels like he can’t breath, but contrary to his ill gut feeling, the face of his counterpart softens and Chifuyu carefully takes a step closer to cup his face. 

The look he gives him is understanding and brimming with affection, but Kazutora does catch the hint of sadness that dwells within. It tears at his own heart and he doesn’t quite understand its origin, but when Chifuyu leans in closer, slowly and with caution to give him enough room to adjust, Kazutora can only stare at him in awe and disbelief and the deep longing he always refused to acknowledge.

Something breaks lose. A tear, a suppressed sob, a vulnerability, but Chifuyu doesn’t shy away and presses his smile softly onto his lips. 

It’s an automatism to grab his hips. Keep him close. Savor that kiss, but Kazutora can’t tell what to do next. He never allowed those lips to kiss him with a gentle intention before, although they tried. They tried over and over again and only now he realizes what he denied himself all these times before. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and he feels stupid for the tears that fall from his eyes, but Chifuyu has seen far worse of him. 

When they part, Kazutora is quick to rub his sleeve over his eyes, but Chifuyu doesn’t comment on it and only gives him that heartfelt smile. His tone is gentle when he says, “How about a movie next time? Peke J missed you too. He’ll be glad to see you again.”

Another smile pulls at Kazutora’s lips. “Sounds good.”  

They get lost in each other’s eyes again and this time, his heart beats in excitement rather than nervousness when Chifuyu leans in for another quick kiss. He’s a little puzzled though, when it meets his nose instead of his lips.

“I’m looking forward, then.”

There’s no further explanation. Just another smile fitting to heal a heart and Kazutora watches him in mild confusion as he walks away, nose still tingling from the gentle touch. 

It only takes a few seconds for his expression to soften and the smile that settles on his lips is wide and unbelieving and wistful. More tears forms in the corners of his eyes, but they bear no sadness or desperation. Need no comfort or someone to hold him close. They are warm and soft like summer rain and Kazutora realizes that it might be tears of joy. Tears of hope. Tears of relief. 

This can actually work, a soft voice rises inside. This can be your life.

Kazutora swallows heavily, knowing that the familiar sound of doubt will soon chime in, but he won’t be discouraged anymore. Chifuyu doesn’t let him. He proved it wrong time and time again, in the most gentle way possible, until even a heart like his couldn’t help but to start believing into his kindness. 

It will take time and he will make mistakes and mess some things up, but for the first time in his life, Kazutora’s hopes are louder than his fears. They tell of a future worth dreaming about and he will be brave enough to chase it.