Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Hey, partner? Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

The first hints of sunset filter onto the carpet through the window panes, unobstructed by the thin curtains pulled aside for the day, casting everything in a warm citrine hue. A sweltering heat invades the room, a byproduct of the throes of summer, something that adds to his restlessness, though that isn’t the worst part. The song of cicadas harmonizes with the droning of the portable fan, a slight reprieve from the scorcher they’re stuck in, accompanied only by the rustling of pages and the scratches of pencil on paper.

They’re studying—or Yu is, Yosuke gave up two hours ago—in Yu’s bedroom. Yosuke turns his attention away from his magazine to focus on his partner. Despite the heat, the sweep of his bangs don’t plaster to his forehead like Yosuke’s everything sticks to his own skin, gray bowl cut combed neatly into place without a single misbehaving strand in sight. He barely even appears to be sweating despite the fan blasting in Yosuke’s face for the past hour, instead laser-focused on his textbooks and notes with that neutral stoic expression he always wears. The light lands on his face just right, highlighting the curve of his jaw and the particular glittering in his eyes. Perfect. Poised. Immaculate.

Yu doesn’t look up, but he does bring his pencil to his lips and Yosuke’s eyes drift to watch the way he chews on the eraser. When he’s done, he gives a simple, “No,” and returns to his work.

Yosuke, on instinct, nods, before scrambling up so he’s sitting properly instead of laying against the arm of Yu’s couch. “Wait, seriously?”

Undeterred, Yu shrugs. “Unless you want to count the girl in third grade that kissed me on the cheek, I haven’t.”

“But you’re so…” Yosuke rights himself to face the boy leaning over the coffee table properly, sitting criss-cross on the cushion and waving his arm around while he tries to find the right words. “Cool. And popular! You get so many love letters! Half of the school is head over heels for you! You have to have kissed someone.”

“I haven’t.”

“Seriously?”

Yu finally looks up and gives him a tired look. Yu’s tired look, at least, which consists of a minute frown and a subtle droop of his eyelids. “I’m not sure why it’s a big deal.”

“It’s your first kiss, man. It’s totally a big deal.”

“I don’t know. I’d rather have my first kiss with someone I care about than get it over with when the next person who doesn’t know me and I feel nothing for confesses to me.”

Yosuke purses his lips. He understands where his best friend is coming from, but as usual, he always had a strange outlook on things. He knows Yu is, for lack of better words, weird. Despite the picture-perfect image many people have of him, Yu has a lot of eccentricities, least of all his apparent disinterest in girls or complete nonchalance towards not getting even a slight peck on the lips at seventeen. Maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising, but Yu’s popularity within Yasogami—Hell, all of Inaba—made it evident to him he must have some experience in the romance department. Though, evidently, he must have been wrong. “I guess that makes sense. I still thought you’d have done it by now, though.”

“If there’s anything we’ve learned this year, isn’t it that outward appearances can be deceiving?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The conversation should have ended there, with Yu turning back to his textbooks and Yosuke, more reluctantly, leaning back and unfolding the magazine again. Unfortunately, the ongoing silence featuring cicadas and fans and a frankly gross amount of sweat accumulating beneath the band of his headphones without his MP3 player to distract him is driving him insane.

He peeks over the edge of the magazine. “Aren’t you gonna ask me if I kissed anyone?”

“Did you finish your homework?” Yu shoots back.

Yosuke winces. “We still have a few weeks left of summer break, man. I’m more surprised you’re actively studying when you already finished it.”

“I have to stay on top of things.”

“During summer break?”

Yu doesn’t say anything, just gives him a meaningful look before turning back to his textbooks. Again.

Yosuke also knows Yu is a bit of a study freak. He’s mellowed out a lot since he first got here, with Yu no longer excusing himself from casual group hangouts early and Yosuke no longer inviting himself over only for Nanako to tell him her big bro pulled an all-nighter locked in his room. Even still, Yu spends an absurd amount of time studying, and that’s not even considering the time he puts aside for his fifty different friends and his twenty part-time jobs and the seemingly endless random requests that lead them all back into the TV world on rainy days and the investigation efforts, inside the TV and otherwise.

Honestly, Yosuke is baffled. Yu shows no signs of stress whatsoever, no matter how tightly packed his schedule is. Then again, Yu has always had an air of untouchability about him, and Yosuke knows better.

He doesn’t want to add unnecessary strain on Yu’s schedule (especially when he’s already intruding on it), so he sighs and shimmies back into his original spot and flips to the next page. It’s a music magazine he picked up from Okina the last time he went that he never had the chance to read before the police caught on to that Kubo kid and shit hit the fan. There’s a bunch of cool guitars and keyboards and stuff he doesn’t have the money for, a few columns about musicians he’s not super interested in, a list of album recommendations for different genres…Maybe he can send some over to Yu later? He’s getting a better idea of his partner’s music tastes, which pretty much consists of classical music from old dead white guys he can’t tell apart from each other, but he’s enjoyed some of the CDs Yosuke made him listen to, so he’ll probably like something. If he doesn’t, Yosuke can either keep them, hand them off to their friends, or sell them back. Maybe he can use this as a late birthday present? He’ll have to set aside some of his paycheck to buy a CD player and a pair of headphones for him too. He doesn’t think Yu has either.

Suddenly, Yu heaves a sigh and tosses the cover on the textbook closest to him closed. “Yosuke.”

Yosuke jumps and snaps his head toward him. “Yeah?”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

A wide grin creeps across his face. Yu frowns. “Nope,” he replies, popping the P.

The other boy’s eyebrows pinch just underneath his fringe. “You really begged me to ask only to say you haven’t done anything?”

Yosuke flattens his mouth. “I didn’t beg.”

“You still wanted me to ask. I thought you had an anecdote prepared or something.”

Yosuke waggles his pointer finger at him. “Ah ah, Mister Narukami. You of all people should know not to judge people by appearances.”

An eyebrow disappears behind his bangs. “I’m not sure it works like that.”

“Of course it does. Maybe I wanted to wallow in mutual misery instead of smear my accomplishments in your face. It’s your fault for assuming, partner.”

“Not sure if it counts as smearing if I wasn’t bothered by my lack of experience in the first place, but whatever lets you sleep at night.” Yosuke rolls his eyes. Yu’s mouth curls into a small smile, the one he uses when he’s talking to one of them all the time. It can mean a lot of things, but with the crinkling of his eyes and the pupils themselves sparkling, Yosuke can tell he’s amused. “What about that first love you mentioned a while back? Nothing about her?”

Yosuke isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry whenever he recalls how that went. “I tried giving her a dandelion before asking if she wanted to go out with me and she called me a big dumb stupid idiot and never talked to me again.”

Yu bites his lip as it quivers in an obvious attempt to bite back a laugh. “A big dumb stupid idiot?”

“Yup. Word for word.”

“Wow.”

“I know. It was devastating.”

“Horrible. I don’t know how you ever recovered.”

“Maybe she was right,” Yosuke sighs breathily, stretching himself over the length of the couch and resting the back of his hand on his temple for dramatic effect. “I should have given her a rock instead. She always did like geology.”

“I would have taken the dandelion,” Yu says, like Yosuke would ever give him one. “It’s her loss. She missed out on the casanova of a lifetime.”

“I know, right? I was so smooth, even back then.” He straightens out and curls his fingers into claws, throwing in a signature wink for good measure. “Watch out, ladies! Hanamura Yosuke is on the prowl.”

Yu’s smile widens, and Yosuke relishes in the rare sight of his partner’s teeth. “Very. You even managed to sound like Teddie.”

Yosuke cringes. “Man, don’t say that.”

“Am I wrong? Bears prowl.”

“Teddie would have totally said something worse.”

“Teddie would have made a bear pun, and bears prowl.”

Yosuke doesn’t have a rebuttal to that. Instead he just huffs. “Don’t give him any ideas. I already have to drag him away from the free sample lady enough as is.”

“Noted.”

Their banter lulls again, and Yosuke resigns himself to skimming through the magazine while Yu refocuses on his studies when the latter speaks up again. “What kind of girl do you like?”

Yosuke raises an eyebrow at him. “Not going back to studying?”

“You broke my concentration, and I’m curious.” That’s odd. Maybe he was wrong in clocking him as someone completely disinterested in the topic? Then again, he did bring it up while he was trying to be a responsible student, something Yosuke very much is not. He probably just got annoyed at the timing and Yosuke’s lack of diligence.

He feels bad that he doesn’t feel bad about reclaiming Yu’s attention, but damn it, Yosuke is bored. He bites the inside of his cheek and stares up at the ceiling in thought. He’s talked about it before, in the city with his old friends, and his answer hasn’t really changed, though it’s a bit less…figure-focused than it used to be. Actually, thinking about it, a lot of his friends as he got older really liked locker room talk. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Though it’s not like he’s much better. “I guess…This is kind of a basic answer, I guess, but someone who’s kind and reliable, but also someone I’d wanna protect.”

“Not her curves or posture or beautiful, slim legs?”

Yosuke groans and slaps his palm over his face. “Will you guys ever let that go?”

“If it helps at all, I’m pretty sure Rise teases you more about it than Kanji does.”

“How is that supposed to help?!” Yosuke turns on his side and glares daggers at the other teen. “I don’t just think about boobs, you know!”

“I never mentioned boobs.”

Yosuke needs a Zionga to strike him down right then and there. Unfortunately, this is the real world, and thunderstorms don’t materialize out of thin air, so he does the next best thing: deflect. “Yeah, whatever. What about you? What’s the oh-so-famous Narukami Yu’s type?”

He takes the bait, thank god, and backs off with a chuckle. “You already asked me that.”

“Not really. I mean, if you think about it, the only thing I know is that Satonaka and Amagi aren’t your type.”

Yu opens his mouth like he wants to argue on that, before grimacing and closing it. He sighs and splays his fingers over his mouth like he does when he’s contemplating something. Yosuke props himself up with his forearm and fights back the giddiness threatening to crash over him. The warmth in his chest from Yu extending care and thoughtfulness into his answers to Yosuke’s questions (as stupid and inconsequential as this conversation really is) aside, the most Yosuke has ever pulled out of Yu regarding his interest in women was the confirmation that he wasn’t interested in Satonaka or Amagi romantically. Did he like someone more like Rise? Someone bubbly and more intelligent than she lets on? Maybe someone like that girl from the drama club or the one with the trombone Yu hangs out with sometimes? He doesn’t remember their names, but they were both cute in their own ways, and Yosuke could get behind whatever Yu’s reasoning might be. Or maybe even Ebihara? She’s also cute, but a complete nightmare to deal with. But, hey, don’t judge a book by its cover and all that, right?

Or the first few chapters.

Or…something.

Regardless, he’s finally getting a glimpse into Yu’s love life, as dry and barren as it might be. Even if he’s never kissed anyone, or so much as dated, he can still be content with a peek into the type of girl Yu would want to do that stuff with. Hell, maybe he can try to set him up with someone? Give him a little nudge in the right direction? Okina Pick-up Contest: Round 2: Narukami Edition?

Finally, Yu looks up, smile gone from his lips, and shifts onto his knees to lean over the table. Gunmetal gray meets chestnut brown. Yosuke meant to waggle his eyebrows in that obnoxious way people do when they’re teasing someone about their crush, but his throat decides to run dry instead. Yu does that innocent little smile he does when he’s happy just to be spending time with them. Spending time with Yosuke. Tilts his head just so.

With the calm confidence Yosuke exclusively hears in the TV world, Yu delivers the final blow: “You.”

Yosuke’s brain, constantly in overtime, grinds to a halt.

Then Yu very badly bats his eyelashes at him and it kicks into high gear.

“I’m not a girl, dumbass!” His face definitely way too hot even for mid-August, Yosuke chucks the forgotten magazine at Yu and watches in utter misery as it falls pathetically in a crumpled heap on the floor, not even breaching the coffee table. Yu’s pure, affectionate smile breaks into a smug, triumphant grin. Asshole. “Give me a serious answer, dammit!”

Yu shrugs like he didn’t just ruthlessly kill Yosuke in one shot and sits back on his calves, propping his head up with his palm. Yosuke has to strain to hear him over his own galloping heartbeat. “As long as she’s nice, I don’t mind.”

Yosuke unsuccessfully urges his heart and the burning in his face to calm down as he scrunches his nose. “That’s such a nothing answer, dude.” Yu just shrugs again. “Come oooon, there has to be more! Like…I dunno, her sense of humor? Personality traits? Hell, her body? Anything?”

“Like her beautiful, slim legs?”

“Fuck off.”

Yu chuckles again but obliges (hopefully). His fingers go back to covering his mouth and he glances out the window at the sinking sun. While Yosuke recovers from the brutal assault, his partner progressively seems to get lost deeper into thought, staring blankly into space. A faint dust of pink crawls up his neck, barely visible past his dumb popped collar, and across his cheeks and that same giddy feeling springs back to life. Is the reason Yu never talks about this stuff and fills his answers with jokes because he’s embarrassed? He’s never seen Yu blush before either, even when they saw Satonaka and Amagi in swimsuits or whenever Rise snuggles up to him every two minutes. It’s kinda cute.

Not cute, he reminds himself. Yu isn’t cute. Rise and Amagi and even Satonaka are cute. Yu’s off limits in the cute department. Because he’s not cute.

“…Reliable.”

Yosuke blinks himself back to reality and furrows his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Yu isn’t looking at him, his eyes darting around the room in random intervals with his bottom lip between his teeth when he isn’t mumbling. His free hand fiddles with his notes. “Someone reliable. And kind. Someone who always looks after others. I’d probably wanna care for her, too. Really smart, even if…she doesn’t realize it. Really funny and can make me laugh, but can also be serious when it really matters. Um.” Yu sends Yosuke into mental shock as he buries his increasingly red face in his hands. “I never thought about any of this before. I dunno. Yeah.”

Yosuke, ever the master of eloquence, blurts out, “Besides the smart and sense of humor thing, isn’t that just Satonaka?”

Yu’s shoulders shake alongside an awkward laugh. “You already know the answer to that.”

The answer to that is a resounding yes (even the smart and sense of humor thing, if he’s being generous), but somehow she still didn’t quite make the cut. Is there something about Satonaka in particular that’s a total turn off? Is it a physical thing that Yu is too much of a gentleman to talk about? Is there another trait he’s too embarrassed to say? That might not be too far of a stretch; if he’s this shy talking about it in front of Yosuke, there’s likely something he isn’t letting on. And Yu doesn’t like talking about himself too much in general. And Yosuke can be a dick, but he’s not that much of a dick.

Granting him this one mercy, Yosuke smiles reassuringly and points out, “Aren’t our types kinda similar?” Yu peeks at him through his fingers, his ears and what Yosuke can see of his face still a bright crimson between the gaps. “I mean, I didn’t say as much as you did, but I wouldn’t complain if she had those extra qualities, y’know?”

“…Yeah.” He hides behind his hands again. Yosuke lets him run the course of his flustering until Yu sighs and uncovers his face, now only adorning a slight flush. He still looks a little on edge, but Yosuke is sure he can put him at ease with a few well-timed jokes. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem, man. I’m kinda surprised you even shared that with me. Especially after that first answer.” Stop thinking about it!

His brow furrows. “Really? I don’t have a reason to hide anything from you.”

“You weren’t. You just never really seem interested whenever I’m talking about girls.” Yu chews on his bottom lip and glances to the side. Another signature Yu Contemplating expression.

“I was never invested in the topic,” he says after a few moments. “Romance, I mean. I figured I’d just find someone one day and it would just…happen, so I never bothered trying to get a girlfriend or anything.”

“Huh. I guess that sounds like you.” Yu nods, and Yosuke belatedly realizes that now the silver strands covering his forehead are beginning to cling to his skin. “You know, I’ve never seen you blush before. It’s kinda cute.”

Yu blinks. Slowly. Like a frog. Yosuke swears the piercing stare he’s getting is dissecting him, picking through his brain trying to figure out what the fuck is going on in there. Yosuke doesn’t even have the answer to that. He’s too busy calculating how fast he can hurl himself out the window.

“Sorry, that was weird,” Yosuke manages once his brain catches up with his mouth. Yu is still staring at him. Yu needs to stop staring at him and Yosuke needs to stop being an big dumb stupid idiot. “Um. Do you wanna just play Twenty Questions or something? We’re already kinda doing that. Unless you wanna keep studying. Whatever works.”

Yu blinks one more time before slowly asking, “What do you miss most about the city?”

Yosuke’s lips tug upward in spite of his embarrassment. “I don’t think that’s how you play Twenty Questions, man.” It’s also a weird direction to take their romance-fueled conversation, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

“I don’t want to play Twenty Questions, I want to know more about you. And I’ve been wondering for a while.”

“Really?” He guesses he hasn’t talked about missing the city much since they went to Okina together back in April. It just never came up, and Yosuke never thought to mention it. He knows he talked about his old friends and the air or something, but his feelings towards what he really missed most could be summed up with a resounding everything.

More surprising is Yu’s interest in the answer to that. It’s such a mundane thing that doesn’t particularly matter, especially when Yosuke isn’t moving back to Tokyo any time soon. Though, whether Yu kissed someone or what kind of girl he likes were also mundane questions that don’t particularly matter in the grand scheme of things. But, still, wondering what he missed most about the city? And apparently for a while?

“Yeah.”

Yosuke wraps and unwraps the cord of his headphones around his index finger. “Huh. Well, a few months ago I wouldn’t even be able to answer that. I mean, the country has its charms, but I’m more of a big city guy.”

“And now?”

“…I guess the way a lot of the townsfolk talk about me,” he decides. “Or, well, didn’t talk about me. I mean, when I worked in the city right before we moved, I still had to deal with some of the part-timers since I’m the manager’s son and all. But at least I didn’t have to deal with all of Tokyo talking shit about me behind my back.” He pauses, ignores Yu’s sympathetic and welcoming expression, then adds, “Also, not falling on my ass in the snow and getting laughed at by Satonaka.”

Yu doesn’t snort, but he does something close to it. “I’ll bet.”

“She was ruthless, man.”

“Did she help you up?”

“No. She just shoved me into Aiya after school and made me help her with that gigantic beef bowl thing.”

That small, fond smile. The one Yu gets when he’s with or talking about or thinking about his friends with nothing short of pure adoration. So imperceptible compared to his average half-smile, but so important. It’s the eyes. The shining in his irises. Pure, affectionate, devoted. It steals Yosuke’s breath away more times than he wants to admit, gives him a weird ache in his chest he can’t tell whether he likes or not. It’s worse when that smile is directed at him. When it’s because of him. “That sounds like her.”

“I— Yeah.” Yu’s tilts his head in a silent question and Yosuke mentally punches himself. He needs to calm down. Get his head in the game. Why does Yu always fluster him so much? Think, Hanamura, think— Right. “Uh, what about you? You adapted to Inaba pretty well. Anything you miss about Tokyo?”

Yu is quick to answer with a shrug and a short, “Just the transportation.”

“That’s it?” That’s an odd thing to miss out of everything he could possibly miss, let alone exclusively. There had to be something else, right?

Then again, Yu is odd. So.

“It’s more convenient, and even then I don’t mind walking around Inaba. It’s nice.” Yu fiddles with his notes again and stares a hole into the table. “Nothing exclusive to the city really matters to me. No offense.”

“None taken. I kinda get it. Inaba is pretty nice.” That affectionate smile returns, a bit wider than before, and Yosuke’s voice softens. “I meant it when I said this place is special to me, y’know? Even if it sucks sometimes.”

Yu’s next question is: “What’s your favorite thing about Inaba?”

Yosuke readjusts to lay down flat on his side, resting his head in the crook of his elbow. “Oh, man, that’s tricky.”

“Even more tricky than what you miss about the city?”

“What can I say? Living out in the middle of nowhere has grown on me.”

“I’m glad.” Knowing him, he really is. It doesn’t matter that he’s not a local who’s lived here his entire life, he loves the quaint town just as much as, if not more than, everyone else. “That just means there’s a lot of potential answers to look forward to.”

There’s only one answer that pops into his head.

It’s embarrassing, and weird, and probably a million other things that scream it’s a horrible idea, so instead Yosuke scrambles for something else and settles with, “All of you guys. More specifically the memories I’ve made with all of you, I think.”

The smallest of smiles, almost private. The one exclusively for Yosuke. As far as he knows. He hopes so. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s kind of ridiculous. He feels ridiculous. The fuzziness in his head and his chest spreads and curls around the rest of his body. Yosuke tucks his knees to his stomach and absentmindedly plays with his hair, twirling tufts around or running strands through his fingers. Yu is still smiling with an overwhelming affection Yosuke can’t fathom, like Yosuke is the entire world.

Is it bad that he wants to be?

“What will you miss most about me?”

The question leaves his lips before he can think better of it and he immediately bites his tongue and forces himself to stare at the neatly folded futon in the corner. It isn’t a secret that Yu is moving back to Tokyo in March. In fact, this singular truth crashes around his brain the more the inevitable date speeds towards them like a bullet. He wanted to avoid talking about it, because Yosuke knows he’s clingy, and that he’s overreacting. It isn’t like they can’t talk to each other; Yosuke has been saving for weeks to pay for extra data on his phone plan just so he could call and text Yu whenever he wants. There’s that tiny voice, though, in the darkest crevices of Yosuke’s mind. One layered over several other voices in a variety of tones and pitches, teeming with false bravado and resentment. It jeers at him, mocking him with the fact that once Yu leaves, there’s no reason for him to bother with Yosuke anymore. It’d be so easy for him to just ignore his calls. Maybe at first he’d text him that he was busy with homework, or studying, or one of his many part-time jobs. Eventually he’d stop bothering entirely, and Yosuke’s own messages would trickle into a shallow How’s school? every few days, then every few weeks, then every few months. He can’t beg for attention when they’re hundreds of meters apart, not in a way that would force him to actually give him any. He’ll be too busy with important things like college entrance exams or his cool new city friends or, maybe, just maybe, someone more likable and more worthy of Narukami Yu than Yosuke could ever be.

He doesn’t want Yu to leave. He’s never wanted anyone to leave, but Yu is different. He changed Yosuke’s life, made him a better person. Someone who can be honest with himself. He can be honest with him. He can handle his old city friends leaving. Always kept at arm’s length, never too close, never close enough, safe but unfulfilling relationships. They can forget about him or secretly think he’s the scum of the earth or whatever they want. They aren’t Yu. They could never be Yu. He doesn’t know what he’ll do without Yu. He doesn’t want to know what he’ll do without Yu.

Not just Yu. Who’s to say Yu isn’t the only thing holding their merry band of misfits together, frayed threads tightly woven together carefully by Yu’s calloused hand? What happens when it isn’t there to hold them taut? Will they crawl apart until they spring loose? Will they be pulled so hard in a desperate attempt to keep everything the same as it’s always been that they snap from the pressure? Will he go back to how he was before he crashed into Yu’s life? Never meaning what he says, bored out of his mind, surrounded by people, never by himself, always alone?

“Yosuke?”

Yosuke releases his tongue and tentatively gazes back at Yu’s face. It’s hard to read his expression lying sideways, but the all too familiar concern in his eyes still makes his throat feel tight. He chokes out a derisive laugh. Yu’s eyebrows pinch. “Sorry. I kinda ruined the mood, huh?”

Yu shakes his head and leans as far as he can over the coffee table. “Is everything alright?”

Yosuke coils the cord around his finger so tightly it hurts. His eyes drift to the squares that make up Yu’s carpet, now a darker shade of blue than usual. He didn’t notice the sun setting this much, only a fraction of its light making it through the window. How much time has passed? “Yes? I dunno. I just started thinking and I guess…” He can feel Yu’s eyes piercing through him. Is he judging him? Yu’s never once judged him in the four months they’ve been friends, not even after witnessing all of Yosuke’s most disgusting, abhorrent thoughts and feelings made manifest right in front of him, and everyone knows how much he deserves it, but it’s never too late to start. Shit, they’ve only been friends for four months. It feels like they’ve known each other for years. “…No. I’m going to miss you, partner.”

Yu doesn’t say anything for what feels like eternity. Yosuke’s too anxious over whatever face he might be making to look at him. He shouldn’t have mentioned it. Shouldn’t have reminded them both just how easily this could fall apart. Shouldn’t have brought attention to just how clingy he still is. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t—

“Your smile.”

Yosuke tentatively faces his partner. He’s still leaning over the table, but now he isn’t looking at him and is fidgeting with his fingers. His cheeks are tinted a soft rose.

Yosuke’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he tries to speak words like people do. “…My smile?”

Yu nods and opens his own, but hesitates. The slight pink deepens into a bright red as he does his best imitation of a fish, once again darting his gaze around the room, landing everywhere except on Yosuke. Maybe they’re both fish out of water here. Yosuke isn’t sure what to make of it. He’s not used to…this. Opening up his heart so readily and pouring out its contents for someone else to see. Getting the same in return. It’s terrifying no matter how many times they go through this.

Or how many times he has. It isn’t lost on him that Yu hasn’t done the same, not to the same extent. He knows it’s not out of distrust, or reluctance, or just a plain lack of desire to. He’s just like that; always dishing out advice and a helping hand and an open ear to anyone who needs it, but never allowing himself to accept the roles in reverse. He gets it, and he cherishes the few times Yu allows himself to open up and holds those moments close to his heart. This is no different.

“It’s…warm,” Yu starts, slow and quiet like uttering these words is going to shatter something, like he’s hitting a glass vase with a metal baseball bat. “It’s like…a warm blanket is being wrapped around me? And it’s really contagious. Whenever I see you smiling, I feel like everything will be okay, and I find myself smiling too. And technically not the same thing, but this goes for your laughter, too. Your laughter is like…It’s like someone injected pure dopamine into it. I-I know that sounds weird, but it’s true. It never fails to lift my spirits.”

He’s starting to ramble a bit, words spilling out like a fountain, or maybe more like a waterfall. Uncontrollable with a desperate edge to it, even as he keeps his voice low and steady. “There’s a bunch of other things I’ll miss, obviously. But hearing you run up to me on the way to school and shouting ‘Partner!’ and then turning around to see your smile is the best part of my day. Sometimes I wake up feeling like I passed out in the TV after getting run over, but the moment I see you, I feel like I can conquer anything. Especially when I’m the reason you’re laughing or smiling, either because of some stupid joke or because you’re just that happy to see me. It’s so bright and addicting. Sometimes it feels like I’m staring directly into the sun.”

Yu stops, his lips slightly parted while he catches his breath. Then the weight of what he said seems to hit him with the force of a brick wall and he quickly buries his face in his hands again. Yosuke didn’t think it was physically possible to actually resemble a tomato, but Yu has always shattered his expectations of what normal people can do.

Yu has always shattered his expectations, period.

Yosuke’s head is spinning. Maybe if Yu had that carefully crafted neutral expression taped onto his face, Yosuke could calm the fuck down and pretend his heart isn’t breaking free out of his chest, or that a thick staticy fog isn’t filling up the space where thoughts should be, or that he can barely breathe with how hot the room is even with that forsaken fan still running cool air straight into his face. As it stands, even Yu has to be aware that all of that was way too much, more than Yosuke can handle, more than Yu can apparently handle.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, with Yu looking like he wants the floor to engulf him whole and Yosuke staring at him like he’s grown five extra heads before he rolls over and internally screams into his palms.

He’s not mad. He feels like he should be, but he’s not. Butterflies are fluttering in his stomach and distantly he wonders if he’s as cherry red as Yu is, but neither of that really matters when he’s left reeling and trying to make sense of it all.

Honesty is difficult. For Yosuke, it’s like trying to clamber up Mount Fuji without rock-climbing supplies. For Yu, it’s like taking a pleasant swim with the occasional wave dragging him under. He thinks about why Yu never had to face his Shadow sometimes, how Satonaka said he has nothing to hide. Maybe that’s true, maybe it isn’t. He can be honest with himself with such ease Yosuke feels those horrid tendrils of envy slither up his heart because of it. With other people, though, it’s more complicated. Yu doesn’t have to say anything for his affection to be obvious. The slightest softening in his tone, the different ways he touches (and lets them touch in turn) each of his very different friends, the act of going out of his way to do what he can for them, the deeper meaning in shooting texts that say They’re showing this at the movie theater, want to go see it together? or This cat reminded me of you :), the millions of tiny expressions he can make, that damned smile. So much love is stored in every facet of Narukami Yu, Yosuke has no idea how he handles it all. Though containing it in those small acts that can just as easily go unnoticed must make things easier, because Yu has rarely, if ever, outright said how much they mean to him past simple would-be platitudes that everyone uses everywhere.

It’s not that he doesn’t mean them. They just don’t capture the sheer depth of how much he feels. Something he never expresses directly, doesn’t know how to, and gets embarrassed and anxious when he does. Timid. Bashful. Human.

Yosuke isn’t mad. He’s happy, somewhere within the confusion and shock and something tangling together inside him. It’s completely foreign to him, someone putting so much care and thought towards him. Sometimes he can handle it, when he can pretend the sentiments are more fleeting and one-dimensional than they really are. Sometimes he can’t.

Nobody misses Hanamura Yosuke. Nobody. If they do, it’s for something stupid or shallow and only for a miniscule fraction of time. That’s just a fact of life, like how birds chirp or the grass is green or the girls suck at cooking. Everyone is supposed to laugh at him doing stupid shit that makes baby giraffes look graceful until they eventually get sick of him and then they leave. Nobody spends every Thursday afternoon, without fail, studying/succumbing to Yosuke’s attempts to cure his boredom with him. Nobody holds him like a fragile girl while he’s sobbing on the riverbank. Nobody talks about the warmth of his smile. Nobody calls him their partner.

Partner. Aibou. He feels so stupid for blurting that out in the middle of battle back at Amagi’s castle, when they were chasing Satonaka down the first few floors before a Shadow could mince her into bits of flesh and bone. He feels even more stupid over how hot his face felt when Yu twisted in his seat when the lunch bell rang with that same exact smile and said it back for the first time while plopping an overprepared bento on his desk. He feels stupidest over the way he kicked his legs and grinned into his pillow for days after that, right before Kanji appeared on the Midnight Channel. But it always felt right. It’s their thing. They’re partners. Nobody else can be Yosuke’s partner. Nobody else can be Yu’s.

It makes him so unfathomably happy. Is it even okay to feel this happy? Over this?

Something gentle and warm lands on his shoulder. Yosuke violently jolts at the unexpected contact but it stays firm. Yu’s voice is soft near his ear. “Yosuke?”

Yosuke breathes in through his nose and lets it out in a shaky exhale. “You can’t just say shit like that, man.” His own voice wavers and cracks a little at the end, and Yu begins rubbing small, soothing circles through his shirt. He takes another breath before continuing. “I, um, thought you were gonna say something stupid. Like me eating shit while riding my bike or something.” Then, because he can’t just shut the fuck up, he adds, “I mean, those moments are pretty funny. I wouldn’t blame you.”

Yu doesn’t say anything, just keeps kneading his shoulder with his thumb. Yosuke kinda wants to throw up, but vomiting on his best friend’s couch isn’t exactly the way he wants his day to end, so he doesn’t.

Yosuke jolts again when Yu shoves him over until his chest is practically flush against the back cushions. He’s about to protest when the area behind his knees dips, and he notices an arm that doesn’t belong to him gripping the backrest, and Yosuke twists around to glare at him. “What the hell, dude?!”

Yu stops in his tracks, stares at him for a moment, then asks, “Is this alright?”

“No!” Yu’s face still resembles a (slightly less ripe) tomato. Yosuke isn’t sure if that makes him more or less likely to frantically wave his arms at him, but he does it anyway. “There’s literally no room, and it’s like forty degrees outside—”

“It’s closer to thirty-five, actually. I checked.”

“Same thing! What happened to your embarrassment from earlier?!”

“My face still feels like someone set it on fire, if that’s what you’re asking—”

“I can see that!”

“—I just hate seeing you upset and—”

“And you thought this would make me feel better?!”

“—and putting yourself down,” he finishes, and Yosuke clams up. “We’re partners, Yosuke.”

A few seconds pass before Yu nervously glances to the side and adds, “Also, um, if you’re actually uncomfortable and aren’t just freaking out I’ll move.”

Yosuke swallows. He should tell him to get out of his personal bubble, even push him off the couch he’s half suspended over. He should. Should, should, should.

He rolls back over and croaks out an “It’s fine”. Yu doesn’t move for a moment, and when he does it’s careful and almost reluctant, like he’s giving Yosuke time to change his mind, but when he’s finally laying down next to him, more of a presence than actually touching him, he finds he doesn’t mind it. The proximity is comforting despite no longer being in the fan’s hitbox and having a guy nearly pressed up against him. It’s still weird (something Yosuke reminds Yu of, which earns him a jab to his side), and it should feel wrong, but it doesn’t. A lot of things that should feel wrong don’t when Yu does them.

Why?

“What about you?”

Yosuke should stop jolting, it’s getting ridiculous. He tries to look over his shoulder, but the most he can see is the edges of Yu’s hair. “Huh?”

“What will you miss most about me?”

God. A better question would be what he wouldn’t miss about Yu, and even that was difficult to answer. He adores every part of him. His reliability, his patience, his strength both physically and metaphorically. How he always somehow knows just what to say, how he remains calm even under pressure, how he devotes himself wholly to the people he cherishes. The tiny changes in his expressions, so subtle he’s certain nobody else has noticed just how many faces he can make. The way he smiles, so small yet so full of love for the world and the people around him. The way his eyes glitter with delight whenever he’s happy. His cooking, warm and tasting like home. How he adopts the role of big brother so seamlessly when Nanako and even sometimes Teddie scamper up to him. The way he can go from wielding a sword in the TV, masterful in his maneuvers from months of fighting, to mass producing paper cranes during their hangouts, fingers worn but diligent and tender. The gestures he makes when he’s talking. How his wrist flicks when he’s writing. (Yosuke probably pays a little too much attention to Yu’s hands, actually.) How soft his hair looks. The way he can somehow pull off a bowl cut without looking ridiculous. The rumbling of his laughter, especially when Yosuke manages to pull out more than a short chuckle. The soft baritone of his voice. The way he chews on the eraser of his pencil when he’s solving a difficult problem. How he always has an answer prepared when he (or Yosuke) gets called on in class. How smart he is. How focused he gets when he studies. The silly drawings accompanying private notes he passes to Yosuke when the teacher isn’t looking. His hugs, despite the stiff awkwardness that accompanies someone who doesn’t know how to hug. How warm he is. The way he fusses over people, like making sure everyone in the Investigation Team is eating proper meals or that Nanako remembers her umbrella when it rains. His quiet demeanor juxtaposed against the way he takes charge in the TV world, barking out orders loud enough to break through the music pouring out of Yosuke’s headphones. The way he doesn’t even need to say anything with him; Yosuke can just look at him and know. The way he listens to all of the songs Yosuke plays for him between classes or during former study sessions and gives him his unfiltered thoughts. Even the weird things, like how his wardrobe almost exclusively features six shades of gray, or how he seems to always have an army of stray cats trailing behind him, or when they have a midnight phone call that’s just Yu complaining about the inevitable stomachaches he got after eating weird shit from the back of the fridge. Everything. He would miss all of it so much just thinking about it forms a deep pit in his stomach and makes his heart ache.

Then it hits him.

It’s horrible. Mortifying. He should pick something else from his ever expanding list. It’s the only answer that feels right.

“You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I won’t laugh.”

“Well, it’s stupid.”

“Nothing you have to say is stupid.”

Yosuke faces the cushions again and fiddles with a loose thread by the corner. “Not even me distracting you so I can ask if you kissed anyone?”

“Not even you distracting me so you can ask if I kissed anyone.”

He slowly turns over, careful not to bump into the boy by his side. He swears Yu’s flush deepens a few notches once they make eye contact.

He takes another deep breath. “Your safety.”

Yu doesn’t laugh, or give him a weird look, or even just stares at him blankly. He blinks once, twice, then pinches his eyebrows slightly in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Fuck, now he has to talk about it. It’s only fair considering Yu talked in detail about him, but a part of him hoped he could get away with just that. He can’t keep staring into his eyes and watches himself playing with his headphone cord instead. “I-I dunno how to really explain it.”

“Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Yosuke’s smiles a little at that. “Yeah. That’s exactly it, really.”

“It is?” He sounds surprised.

“You’re always there for me. For everyone—you’re crazy for that, by the way, but I’m trying not to revert the attention to you and your…toxic selflessness.” Someone needs to outlaw someone huffing out a laugh on your face. Yosuke’s pretty sure a part of him went and died. “A-Anyway, you always know what to say. Even when I feel like everything is spinning and nothing makes sense, talking with you makes everything click into place. When I’m around you, I just…I dunno. I feel like things will be okay. I feel safe.”

He tries to not wish for a meteor to fall on him at that exact moment, but he at least succeeds in staring at his own fingers instead of covering his face with them. The one leg up he has on Yu as of recent.

“…I feel a lot of things,” he mumbles after a few minutes in relative silence. He never did like the emptiness in conversational pauses on his best days, and he’s already vomiting his heart out. What’s a little more? “I…don’t really understand most of it. You confuse me a lot, but you make me really happy, and I really don’t understand why you’re wasting your time with me when you seriously could have literally anyone in Inaba if you wanted to, but it makes me really happy that you do, and…I have no idea where I’m going with this. I—” Of course he can’t beat Yu for long. The other boy has a chokehold on him. He never even stood a chance. “Fuck.”

There’s some shifting, and then fingers are gently wrapping around and tugging at his wrist. Yosuke lets him until he can look at the other boy through his fingers. “Hey. We’re both awkward teenagers who don’t know how to communicate to save our lives. And what I said is arguably more embarrassing.”

Yosuke snorts. “I think I’m more awkward than you, partner.”

“Probably.”

“Wow. Not gonna even try to deny it?”

Yu raises an eyebrow. “My first proper interaction with you was me pulling you out of a trash can.”

Yosuke smiles into his hand. “Touché.”

He doesn’t let go of his wrist until Yosuke pulls his hands away and tucks them against his chest. Yu lays his own beside his head.

“…You’ll still have that,” Yu finally promises. “The, um, safety, I mean.”

“It won’t be the same,” Yosuke counters.

“I know.”

Another bout of silence as Yu’s eyes flit across his face before he gives him another smug grin and softly says, “Your blushing is kind of cute.”

Yosuke slaps Yu’s arm and shoves his face into the cushion, ignoring the fire in his cheeks. If Yu’s laughing at a normal distance sounds nice, then Yu’s laughing up close can be likened to an angel choir. “Jerk.”

“It’s not the worst thing you’ve said. At least you didn’t talk about my curves or my posture or my beautiful—”

“You know I can strangle you, right?” He just laughs again. Asshole.

They lay there. Only a sliver of sunlight breaches the room now, a thin line across the floor and Yu’s abandoned study materials. The uncomfortable prickling he felt when Yu hugged him even in the face of the comfort and safety it provided only teases at the back of his skull. Somehow this feels right, even if it shouldn’t. He can probably even fall asleep like this. Which would be embarrassing, because Yosuke always wakes up with a pillow in his arms (and Teddie, once, that bastard), but Yu would understand. He always does.

“I’m not upset, by the way.”

Yu tilts his head into the couch in lieu of a question.

“I wasn’t upset when you were talking about…my smile and stuff. I was embarrassed, and like a hundred other emotions, but I was happy.”

That smile, exclusive to his partner, only with the faintest glimpse of his teeth. “You’re really bad with compliments.”

“Obviously.” He fiddles with his shirt next. “I’m not really used to it.”

“We can change that.”

“Do not,” he warns, narrowing his eyes at the other teen, who pouts at him. “Yu, I swear on Satonaka’s meat addiction—”

“Fine. You’ll have to call me cute again, though.”

“Dude, what?”

“Call me cute or I’ll barrage you with the cheesiest and most mind-numbing compliments you have ever heard in your life.”

Yosuke shoves at his shoulder and is rewarded with another laugh, but Yu’s grin says he isn’t off the hook yet. “Ugh, fine. You’re cute, okay?”

“And?”

Yosuke groans. “Seriously?”

“Yosuke, you’re—”

“Fine! And your blushing is still cute, and I actually meant it but I panicked because who even says that?!”

“You,” he replies with sincerity etched into every corner of his being. He scoots a little closer and stares straight into Yosuke’s heart. “Nobody else can be you.”

Yosuke can feel every breath, every syllable he doesn’t say, every sentiment Yu wants to convey fan across his face. He feels like he’s dying, except in a good way, and he wonders if he should be feeling this way too. If Yu leans forward, just a little, their lips would touch.

Yosuke’s eyes flick to Yu’s mouth.

He’s going to regret this. He’s going to regret this so bad.

Throwing caution to the wind, he leans over and buries his face in Yu’s chest, gripping his arm with enough force to make him wince. Yu makes a surprised noise but quickly manages to cradle the back of Yosuke’s head with his hand. He threads his fingers through his hair, something that should definitely not feel as nice as it does, but that’s nothing compared to this.

“Hey, partner?” His voice is a shaky whisper, muffled against Yu’s shirt. Yu gives him a small hum of acknowledgement and massages the pad of his fingers against his scalp when he grasps him tighter. “Do you wanna try kissing someone?”