Chapter Text
Ena couldn’t say no to her little brother’s best friend.
Not this time, at least.
Weekend after weekend, An would invite Ena out to all sorts of occasions, ranging from huge music festivals to chill boardgame hangouts at Weekend Garage to some weird-ass PXL outings.
Ena could always figure out a pretty good excuse though. Between work, university, and wallowing in broken-hearted depression, an introvert like her simply has no time to be a social creature. To be honest, she’s surprised An even bothers to invite her after all these years of saying no. Don’t get her wrong — Ena appreciates it! Again, work, university, broken-hearted depression, etc, etc.
But this time, An pulled out her secret weapon and had Kohane invite her instead.
Yeaaah, she couldn’t say no to that scrunkly pleading face.
(Can’t believe she fucking used the word scrunkly.)
Which is why she’s here at a dark, dingy bar, plopped in between a noisy An and a grumbling Akito, and nursing a watered-down oolong hai.
The deep, earthy taste grounds her as her dumbass brother and his music buddy quarrel beside her. Toya and Kohane snuggle against their respective partners, although perfectly sober Kohane looks like she’s trying to pry the alcohol — probably her third or fourth beer — out of An’s hands. Toya’s sipping on an adorable tropical cocktail served in a tiki head, while Akito’s probably on his third or fourth beer too.
Ena’s managed to zone them out somehow.
For a moment, anyway. An shakes Ena by the shoulder, that annoying smile plastered on her face.
“Right? Right? I’m right. Tell me I’m right, onee-sama.”
“Christ, don’t call me that.”
“Okay, okay, okay. Ena, Ena, Ena, am I right?”
“About what? Did you four finally get together?” she asks with a little smirk.
“Hell no,” Akito cuts in, rolling his eyes. “An’s too busy making out with Kohane for, like, 90 percent of the day.”
“Yeah, makes sense. Besides, what girl would wanna date you?” Ena says, sticking her tongue out.
“I’m not the one who’s lonely and single,” he retorts, blowing a raspberry at her.
Ena gasps in fake-offense, then kicks him in the shin. “Rude!”
“Ow!”
“So cruel, Akito!” An says, snickering under her breath.
Akito chugs the last of his beer, slams the mug onto the counter, then lets out a burp. “She started it.”
“Seriously, An, would you actually date this buffoon?” Ena asks, watching the ice spin as she swirls her glass around.
“Pfft, ha! God, no.” Ena glances up to catch An’s huge smile shifting to a thoughtful pout. “Well, maybe, but only if Toya’s cool with sharing.”
Toya chokes on his bright red drink as his cheeks turn the same shade, while Kohane similarly lets out a little giggly-squeak, patting An’s arm.
“What.”
Ena snaps her head over to glare at her brother, right as he does the same. Just as she groans and slaps her palm against her forehead, Akito lets out the same noise and smacks himself in the same way, prompting An to start giggling away.
Why the fuck are they always so in sync? So annoying.
Before Ena can cuss him out, the ever-gracious Toya takes the hint to go pull his grumbly boyfriend elsewhere. “We’ll come back later,” he mumbles.
“Wow, you two seriously are siblings,” An says, that annoying smirk all over her face again.
Just as Ena’s about to unleash the swear barrage meant for Akito, An’s smile grows wider, and she hops to her feet, waving her hands in the air.
“Oh! Over here! Mizuki, we’re over here!”
Ena’s heart nearly stops.
Ah. Right.
It would make sense for An to invite Mizuki to these sorts of things, wouldn’t it?
Well, fuck. It’s too late to leave now. There’s only one thing left to do.
She downs the rest of her oolong hai and waves the bartender over in one motion.
“A whisky mule, please. Actually, make that two.”
Regardless of how many drinks she’s already had, Ena knows she’ll need something harder to deal with this sudden curveball thrown her way.
“Heeey, An~”
God. Fuck. Shit.
She’s not ready for this.
Luckily (and grossly. Fucking gay people.), Akito and Toya have already slinked away to some other corner of the bar, probably to be gross and make out and stuff. But that leaves less people for Ena to hide behind when Mizuki arrives. To be clear, she doesn’t want to avoid them forever. She has a lot of shit she’s gonna unload on them when she’s ready. But right now, is she ready?
“Hey, hey, Mizuki! Glad you could make it this time,” An says, raising her beer in celebration. “We got a little surprise for you.” Kohane lifts her water with both hands and lets out an adorable little “Woo!”
Fuck no.
“Ooh, I love surprises!”
Fuck surprises!
But Ena lifts her gaze anyway and finds herself staring into beautiful, familiar, captivating rose-colored eyes. Her heart thumps and aches and threatens to burst out of her chest as she watches them take energetic little hops across the old hardwood.
They look as amazing as always. Luscious pink hair tied into a side ponytail, accented with a familiar red ribbon. A trendy pink and white cardigan over a light pink blouse. A matching skirt-and-leggings combo with calf-high boots. Small silver accessories accenting their already impeccable style.
God, how do they always look like they walked straight out of a fashion magazine? Ena feels like her favorite pink blouse/black skirt outfit is just a potato sack compared to theirs, and the choker around her neck feels a little tighter as she watches them skip over.
They’re a fucking angel with halos and stars and other glittery shit vomiting all over them in this hellhole of a bar.
It’s honestly hot as hell, and Ena loves all of it.
That doesn’t make her any less mad at Mizuki though.
Mizuki immediately pulls both An and Kohane into a tight hug, and Ena doesn’t even flinch when they pull away and gasp at her sitting right there. Their expression falters for a moment before they manage to piece together a shit-eating grin.
"Ena? You’re… here.”
Oh, fuck no.
They slide around An and Kohane with little pats on their arms — ever the touchy friend, Ena notes, trying to bite back her jealousy — and sits on the stool beside hers. Their gaze shines with something she can’t place but it’s hard to keep eye contact.
“Um. Yeah. Sorry.” She quickly stands, knocking her knees against the stool with a groan, but waves it off. “I was just gonna…” Ena looks around quickly, then shrugs. “Get a drink. Or something. Sorry. I’m gonna… go over there. And get a drink. Or something.”
As if on cue, the bartender slides by and places two freshly made whiskey mules in cold copper mugs in front of the seat she just stood from, then disappears to the other end of the bar. She stares blankly at the bartender’s back, then at the drinks, then, finally, looks at Mizuki. For once, their expression is unreadable.
An snickers under her breath.
Ena sighs and reluctantly plops back down. Counting to ten, she tries very hard to resist grabbing one of those cups and smashing it over An’s head.
“Do… you want one?” she says instead, offering a mug to Mizuki.
“Uh. I…” They take the drink — and their cool fingers bump against hers for a fleeting moment — swish it around in their hand, then laugh quietly. “Thanks, but mules—”
“Aren’t really your thing. Right, I knew that. Sorry. I can get you a…” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Sex on the beach, right?”
An bursts out into unbridled laughter, and Ena silently thanks Kohane for pulling her away before Ena can inflict any bodily harm on the poor hamster singer’s girlfriend.
“Yeah.” Mizuki chuckles, their gaze softening. It doesn’t seem like they even noticed An. They’re looking at Ena like she’s the only thing that matters in the world. And that fucking hurts. “You remembered.”
“It was the first drink you made me make for you,” she replies, smacking them on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “You thought it was absolutely hilarious that someone actually named a cocktail that. So…” Ena glances at the cup they’re cradling all too carefully as her heart crawls into her throat. “Of course I remembered.”
Mizuki’s silent for a moment. If things were normal, they would’ve giggled and playfully smacked Ena back by now, but they’re simply staring into the cup. They’re looking into that copper cup with its cloudy yet mostly clear lime juice and ginger beer mix muddled and tainted by the alcoholic burn of whiskey. There’s a song just waiting to be written with lyrics about that, huh?
“You were always good at that.”
Ena blinks a few times, eyebrows furrowing as Mizuki sighs. “At what?”
“Remembering all the little things about me.”
“Mizuki…”
Her shoulders sag, and it takes all her willpower not to reach out and hold them.
“Sorry. I just…” They take a swig of the mule, groan and stick their tongue out, then place the mug carefully onto the counter. A huge smile spreads across their face, but it’s so damn obvious that they’re forcing it. “Ick. Mules are so not my thing. I’m gonna go get something else, okay? Then we can catch up later.”
“Sure…”
She bites back the “Why are you leaving me again?” that threatens to roll off her tongue.
As they swing their legs over the stool to stand, Mizuki’s gaze softens, and they squeeze her shoulder for the briefest of moments, leaving a searing mark across Ena’s skin.
Ena stares after them as they walk away nonchalantly. Three (four? more?) years apart, and that wall Ena worked so hard to gently dismantle has already been built right back up.
Maybe she needs to use a sledgehammer this time around. That’ll surely smash any wall down to little itty bitty pieces, right?
Later turns into an hour. A maddeningly long 60 minutes filled with endless social media scrolling. An hour of Ena mindlessly ordering different drinks to reach a new drunk high. An hour of leaning against a dirty wall and tracing patterns on the condensation of her glass while she waits for Mizuki to appear. Maybe they won’t. Maybe she’ll sleep alone tonight, just like every other night since they left.
But Mizuki does eventually find her again. Not that there’re many places to hide in a bar this small. Not that she’s trying hard to hide. Not that she doesn’t want to see their stupid and pretty face.
Their eyes meet, and Ena’s heart thumps so loudly that she wonders if anyone could hear it over the shitty rock music. Mizuki perks up when Ena doesn’t look away, and she swears she can see a tail wagging furiously behind them.
It’s a cute thought. They’re cute. Super cute, even.
Ugh, shut up, internal Ena. That’s just the alcohol talking.
The pinkette wanders to her side, a fruity (and pink, obviously) cocktail in hand. Judging by their flushed cheeks and dopey smile, Mizuki must’ve gotten caught up in a drinking competition with An and Akito. They’re definitely more than a little buzzed now.
Not that she’s faring any better. Her eyes flick down to the second whiskey sour — her fifth drink overall… she thinks, at least — already running low, then back up to the pink eyes that shine even brighter in this dimly lit bar. She traces the curve of their jaw, then her gaze lands on their kissable lips.
God, they’re so beautiful.
“Enanan,” they breathe, stopping right in front of her. “Sorry. An roped me into something dumb. Didn’t mean to leave you all alone.”
Their smile widens, and Ena immediately shifts backward, only to find herself already pressed against the wall.
Leave her all alone, huh?
Fuck this.
Mizuki leans in closer, and she smells their vanilla scent mixing with the alcohol and citrus on their lips. Her frustration fades as they fill her senses and remind her that this truly is Mizuki in front of her.
If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch them.
Reach out and kiss them.
Ena blinks the thought away.
Dangerous.
“Mizuki,” she finally says.
Her hand automatically raises, and she finds herself downing the rest of her drink. The whiskey, lemon juice, and sugary syrup go down easy, with a light, pleasant burn at the end. The glass finds its way onto a nearby stool, and her hand finds its way clawing into their blouse.
“Where the hell did you go?”
Her voice comes out as a low, sultry growl instead of the pissed-off tone she was going for.
They start giggling and raise their obnoxiously pink glass. “Sorry~ I went to get a drink. Or three. Silly An made me drink with her. And also otouto-kun! It was super silly. Wait, did I say that already?” Mizuki mumbles, nearly slurring their words. “Oh! This one’s tasty. It’s called a pink love potion. You should have a sip!”
“That’s not what I meant, idiot,” she whispers, pulling them closer.
Fuck. Their scent, breath, and heat envelop her. She’s a moment away from stepping over the edge. A moment away from relinquishing the precious last strip of control she has.
“But it’s a love potion. I need you to drink some!” they whine with a playful pout. “Otherwise, you won’t…” Eyebrows furrowed, they tilt their head back, chug the rest of their drink, then press their forehead against Ena’s, lips hovering over hers.
Their eyes stare deeply into her soul, asking for permission.
She gulps as blood, alcohol, and adrenaline shoot through her veins.
This is unfair. Their hair, their eyes, their lips, their warmth, their everything is so unfair.
“You dummy.”
Mizuki’s smile spreads from ear to ear, and, with that final blow, she apologizes to whatever deities are listening as she throws all semblance of logic into a boiling volcano and swan dives in.
Her arms snake around their neck, and, eyes closing, she presses a gentle, tentative kiss against their mouth. As soon as she makes contact, their lips part, and she can feel the mix of vodka, grapefruit, lemon, and peach slip into her mouth and drip down her throat. Their hands trail across her sides and grip her waist as they furiously kiss her back, their tongue slipping inside and mashing against hers.
It’s hot, messy, and not unlike their first kiss all those years ago.
“You’re so unfair,” she whispers as she pulls away, wiping a strand of saliva from their chin with her thumb.
Mizuki lets out a soft whine as their head drops into the crevice of her shoulder. Blood rushes to her head as she tugs them closer and touches their hair with light, gentle strokes.
“I missed you, Ena,” they mumble, the sound quiet and muffled as staticky rock music pumps through the speakers. The drums and bass pound against her chest, and she can feel her heart thumping faster than the song’s uptempo beat.
It’s been years since their lips last touched, and Ena knows this may just end up being the biggest fuck-up of her life. They don’t deserve her forgiveness for leaving without a word, but she knows there’s probably a million thoughts — all of them self-deprecating and self-blaming and self-hating — running through their pretty little head.
Whether or not either of them deserve anything… It doesn’t matter, does it? All that matters is if they want her. If she wants them. If they’re willing to work on this together.
There’s so much she wants to tell them, but this isn’t the right place or time to vomit her feelings.
Fuck.
“I missed you too,” Ena whispers back, her thumb running over their forehead as they hiccup against her neck.
“I never thought you’d show up,” they say, their grip tightening. “An said she kept trying to get you to come out, but you’d never budge.”
“That’s why she kept inviting me?”
“Mm-hm. I asked her to.” They lift their head slightly, and Ena can see tears forming at the edges of their beautiful shimmering eyes. “I wanted to see you so bad.”
Her next sentence comes out with more venom than she intends.
“Then why didn’t you just talk to me?”
Their eyes lower, and they stay quiet for a moment. Her heart squeezes.
“Because I’m a coward,” is their answer.
Ena lets out a soft sigh. Her thumb finds their lips, then their cheek, then their eyes, and she wipes away the warm droplets.
“I was scared to see you. I’m still scared.” Their fingers fiddle with the pleats of Ena’s skirt, and she can feel the icy digits tremble. “I feel like this is all a dream. That you’re not actually here.”
“I’m right here, dummy,” she says softly, lifting their chin. Her heart flutters and bounces around her chest as she revels in their warmth. She plants a soft kiss on both of their eyes, then again on their cheeks, and, finally, a longer one on their lips.
Ena smiles when she pulls back, watching Mizuki’s face glow with a pleasant pink as they gawk, jaw slacked.
“I thought you’d be upset.”
“Upset is an understatement. But the alcohol is keeping that down.” She pinches their cheek — they pout all cute and let out a little grumble — then shakes her head. The burn in her throat, the lights dancing in her eyes, the erratic thump of her heart as she realizes that she can’t stop gazing at them like the useless fucking lesbian she is — yeah, the alcohol really is keeping everything else down. “For now. We have a lot to talk about.”
“I know. Ena, I—”
“Later,” she interrupts, looping her arms around their waist and pulling them flush against her. She lets out a pleased huff as a mix of panic and passion swirls in their rose-colored eyes when their foreheads — and hips — touch. Laughing softly, she starts grinding against their growing hard-on, surely tenting their skirt already. “I’m not interested in talking right now.”
She can see them going over the possibilities in their silly head, and their eyes glaze over in a haze of desire when they’ve finally made their decision.
Good.
“Enanan,” they growl, capturing her lips as they clutch her jaw and chin in their warm, soft hands.
They kiss her like an enby possessed, and it’s like they’re trying to smother her in nothing but them, their lips, their body, their existence. Her heart soars as her mouth is ravaged by Mizuki’s intense touch. She wants more. Needs more.
Her hands move lower, lower, lower, fingers running over their stomach, teasing across their waist, and her knuckles finally brush against the hardest part of their body. It’s just a ghost of contact, but it makes Ena smile anyway when Mizuki moans at the touch, hips twitching closer.
“Wait,” they say with a gasp as they lean back. “Let’s get out of here.”
Mimicking their earlier grip, Ena cups their face and looks squarely in their eyes. “Are you sure?”
The cheeky dumbass smiles and tilts their head to the side to kiss and nibble softly at the palm of her hand.
“Yeah. Come on,” they whisper, shifting to swipe their tongue between her fingers.
With a prayer to the heavens above, Ena grabs them by the wrist and sprints out of the bar, heart pounding in her throat. Her hand is shaking, her head is spinning, and her body is overheating.
To be precise, she’s in need of a good dicking — regardless of their relationship.
Ah, fuck. She’s gonna hate herself tomorrow.
A small shuffle of movement leaves her warm fingers intertwined with their cold ones, and she glances over when they squeeze hard. Their face is still flushed, and she knows they’re both a solid 12 hours away from sobering up and regretting everything when they both wake up with the worst fucking hangover tomorrow, but, as they wave their free hand wildly to catch a taxi’s attention, the bright smile on their face speaks volumes.
It’ll be okay. She trusts that Mizuki will be gentle with her heart this time.