Chapter Text
I think I've got my sight for you
I don't mean to let it brew
I thought I thought it through
Now come on you know I just get confused
Come get your funky love story
I love it when the skies can't sleep
I left a message encased in me
So bye bye (so bye bye)
A flawless ending
So beautiful
— DPR Ian, So Beautiful
🍵
Kojiro has just finished counting his last till when Kaoru lets himself into the restaurant.
He learnt very early on in their friendship that Kaoru treated everything of Kojiro’s as his own, and Sia la luce was as much of an endeavour of Kojiro’s as it was Kaoru’s. After all, Kaoru is the one who told Kojiro to go for it, who let Kojiro video call him nearly every night when he was gallivanting around Europe; hell, he’s the one who gave Kojiro the idea for a name.
So having his own key was a given.
The late night wine sessions were not, but Kojiro will never turn down an opportunity to spend time with Kaoru.
“Hey,” he greets, closing the door to the strong room and heading to the cellar without prompting.
Kaoru doesn’t answer, merely crouches down to plug Carla into the wall to charge. That’s never a good sign. Kojiro eyes the stray rain droplets in Kaoru’s fringe and grabs a clean dish cloth.
“Here,” he says, tossing it at Kaoru before finding glasses.
Kaoru still doesn’t comment as he takes his spot at the bar. Definitely not good, then.
Outside, the rain begins to fall heavier, like an ill omen. Kojiro’s neck is sore from service and he rubs at it as he pours Kaoru’s a little higher, wondering where the fuck his endless patience for Kaoru comes from. It’s a bottomless well at this point.
“Rough day?” he asks, pushing the glass at Kaoru.
Kaoru takes it and gulps down a mouthful. “Something like that.”
Kojiro peers closer at the darkness around Kaoru’s eyes. It’s an effort not to touch the softness there, but then again, his entire relationship is an effort in self-control. “You’re not sleeping well again.”
“Never have, never will,” Kaoru says, looking like the wine in his glass is actually expired milk. “And my forearm has been killing me all day. I could barely manage an hour at a time at work.”
Kojiro snorts, gesturing to Kaoru. “Give it here.”
Kaoru bickers at him but does as he’s asked, and Kojiro really should have thought this through, because the moment he presses his thumbs into the muscles there, Kaoru groans.
“Brute,” he whines, but Kojiro keeps at it anyway.
One foot in the grave already, he guesses.
“Just shut up and let me do this, will you? Christ, you’re the brute for letting your muscles get this hard. I bet your neck is a fucking landmine.”
Kaoru refocuses all his attention on draining his wine glass and then doesn’t look to Kojiro for permission as he pours himself another. Kojiro lets him, digs into the pressure point over his wrist and watches in satisfaction as Kaoru fumbles with his glass.
“You really are a brute,” he hisses, pressing a hand to his eyes.
“Shut up,” Kojiro repeats, releasing his hold and squishing Kaoru’s arm higher up again. “Stop acting like it’s the end of the world.”
“If I can’t work tomorrow, it’ll be your fault.”
“This is helping you,” Kojiro snipes. “Christ, you need to loosen up, four eyes. Go and get laid or something.”
Kaoru is not impressed with the suggestion, because he smacks Kojiro’s shoulder. “You’re so uncouth.”
Kojiro grins back at him with all of his teeth, because this prim and proper calligrapher before him was a menace when they were growing up. He was the peer pressure Kojiro’s mother had warned him about.
“What? It’s a great stress reliever.”
“Yes, and you’re the epitome of relaxation,” Kaoru deadpans.
Kojiro doesn’t rise to take the bait. So what if he enjoys sex? He’s human, and he does a damned good job of taking care of his lovers.
“Just a suggestion, you prude. Jesus, when was the last time you just went out and spent time with someone for a few hours?”
Kaoru’s eyes glaze over. “Too long.”
“Well, beggars can’t be choosers,” Kojiro snickers, smoothing his palm over the now malleable forearm in his hands. “What’s with the drought? Are you actively trying to make yourself miserable?”
Kaoru glares at him. “I rather think the company I keep is making me miserable instead.”
“The door is always there,” Kojiro reminds him. “You’re free to leave.”
Kaoru goes quiet, in the way that Kojiro knows he’s trying to come up with the words for what he wants to say next. In the corner of the room, Carla hums.
“I just can’t say I’ve had very many good experiences, that’s all.”
“Yeesh,” Kojiro clicks his tongue in sympathy. “Did they not do as they were told?”
Kaoru coughs delicately. “The opposite, you moron.”
Kojiro stares at him, confused for a moment, before—oh. Oh. “You’re a sub?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kaoru says, instantly on the defensive again.
“Bec—you—” Kojiro splutters. “I totally thought you’d call the shots.”
Kaoru looks like he desperately wants to punch Kojiro across the room. Kojiro honestly feels like he already has by this new revelation. “Surprise.”
It’s Kojiro’s turn to pour himself a new glass. “But… but you’re so… you.”
“Again with the cryptics,” Kaoru snaps. “What the hell is the issue here?”
“Hell, I don’t know, Kaoru, because you’re a control freak in everything else?”
There’s a reason Kaoru is the one who plans their meticulous itineraries, after all. Whereas Kojiro is perfectly happy to leave everything up to spontaneity, Kaoru is the one who maintains a schedule and has to know what’s going on at any point in time.
“See that’s just it…” Kaoru says, the rest of his sentence snuffing out like a candle with too little oxygen. “It’s just… I’m always, always in control of everything. All the time. And that’s the one place where I want to forget.”
Kojiro nods. “That’s fair, I guess. I mean, like, I can understand it. When you put it like that.”
One scathing look from Kaoru tells Kojiro just how smoothly he delivered that. Like crunchy peanut butter, apparently. But that’s no matter, right now. For all their bickering and banter, Kojiro knows that Kaoru needs his ear at times like these. They’ve been together since they were in kindergarten, for god’s sake; he’s experienced enough snapping and been in hopeless love long enough to be patient during Kaoru’s more vulnerable moments.
Kaoru laughs, and it’s a bitter, self-deprecating thing that makes Kojiro want to hold him and say, look at yourself, you are the brightest thing in my life.
“Of course, it’s hard enough just to find someone to trust in the first place.”
Ah.
Kojiro studies his wine glass, letting the sentence settle, like dust amongst rubble. And it’s stupid, to feel possessive after all these years and partners, but Kojiro can’t ignore the tendril snaking its way around his heart, the one that feels a lot like you can trust me, I’ll take care of you, I always have, I always will.
He takes a deep breath in, lets it burn his nostrils and lungs when he holds it a moment too long. “I’ll do it.”
Kaoru tilts his head and appraises Kojiro over his glasses like their grade six sensei used to when the two of them would argue in class. “Don’t be stupid, gorilla.”
Kojiro scowls at him. “I’m being serious, four eyes.”
Kaoru shows his teeth. “I know your head has always been big, gorilla, but I’m not one of your girls.”
“Damn it, Kaoru, I know that. I meant what I said, I’m serious.”
“Are you even into that? Or is this just some ploy to win? I’m not signing myself up to be a guinea pig for your ego.”
Kojiro is going to need botox, seriously. This much frowning is going to leave gouges. “We’re both in the same camp, sweetheart.”
Kaoru turns away. Kojiro can’t see the clench of Kaoru’s fingers in his yukata, but he knows all the same by the shift in his shoulders. Kaoru has always had the same tells.
“You can’t be serious,” Kaoru mutters, still refusing to face Kojiro.
Kojiro isn’t going to beg, but come on. “I really am.”
“How would that even…” Kaoru huffs, and from here, Kojiro can see the pink tinge gracing his cheeks, and his gut twists. Christ. “We’ve been friends for years.”
“Big news, I know.” Then, when Kaoru doesn’t say anything further, Kojiro recognises it as his time to take the reins. “Listen, I’ve seen the best and worst of you, Kaoru. What’s one more thing?”
“This is sex we’re talking about, dumbass,” Kaoru hisses, finding some vestige of anger within him, because of course he isn’t going to go down without a fight. “Not some silly skating event.”
Kojiro slaps his hand on the counter. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? Yes it’s sex, but that’s the thing—it’s just sex. Nothing else about us would change.”
When Kaoru keeps looking at Kojiro like he’s grown a second head, Kojiro gentles his tone.
“If trust is the biggest issue that’s stopping you, then I’m your guy.”
He told himself he wouldn’t beg. It's just to help get Kaoru out of his head. Kojiro being desperately in love with him is irrelevant. He'll always give everything to Kaoru.
“Come on, I’d be so good to you.”
It feels like touching the raw edge of a wound. And maybe it shows on Kojiro’s face, how much this actually means to him, because Kaoru’s gaze softens. Kojiro can almost see the walls being pushed down again.
“This is crazy talk, Kojiro,” he says quietly.
“And so is skating to avoid death,” Kojiro laughs.
Kaoru ducks his head again, but Kojiro catches the small smile and counts it as a win. It simmers in his ribcage like the warmth from the hot cocoa they shared on their last ski trip, and gods, when was the last time the two of them actually went on holiday together? Minus the kids, because their island stint with them was more stress than relaxation.
“Send me a list of things you like, and if they line up, we can give it a go.”
“I haven’t decided anything, gorilla.” It’s the weakest line Kojiro’s heard from Kaoru in a while.
He blows on Kaoru’s ear. “Just send it, will you?”
Kaoru slaps him away, rising from his chair. “I’m going home.”
“It’s bucketing down with rain out there.”
“I don’t care!”
🍵
A list comes through the next morning, early enough that Kojiro is the only one in the gym destroying his quads in a superset.
There’s nothing very eye-opening, in fact it’s almost anti-climatic. But the idea of Kaoru sending the list to Kojiro makes his chest feel fuzzy, knowing how much Kaoru would have probably angsted over the whole thing.
And he’s never punished Kaoru for his anxiety.
So he sends back a quick message of acknowledgement, along with his own list of likes and dislikes, ending it with: looks like we can work something out.
Kaoru responds almost immediately, which confirms Kojiro’s musings about his mental state. They seem compatible enough.
Kojiro’s heart is pounding. They’re doing this, they’re really going to do this—
Saturday?
Unlike its predecessor, this message takes its time to come. Fine.