I saw Work Text:
~October 2012~
“Crowly’s dead, and it’s all yer fault, Yoshiki.” Hikaru glares at the other boy, holding in his hands a box with a tiny black bird.
“… Yer wrong.”
“Am not! It was yer turn to feed ‘im today!”
“He’s a livin’ creature… this sort of thing happens…” Yoshiki reasons, shrugging. He’s always so calm, and so smart. Anger burns in Hikaru’s stomach. What the hell do you know? You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know anything.
“What?! It doesn’t just happen! Stop makin’ excuses!”
Yoshiki’s voice starts to raise. “Well, you forgot to feed him a couple times, too, didn’t you?”
“But today was your turn to feed ‘im!” Hikaru insists, fists clenching.
A soft, impatient sigh escapes Yoshiki’s throat. “Look, I’m sorry for forgettin’ to feed ‘im. But it was just one time.”
“Well, he died durin’ that time.” He lets the venom come through in his voice. It feels good.
“You forgot twice, and I fed him both those times.”
Always got the right answer, don’tcha Yoshiki? “Tch! Just admit it! You killed ‘im! You dummy!”
“Huh? No way! It’s not my fault!”
“You make me sick!” It was true. Hikaru’s stomach is churning, he feels so sickened. By fighting with his best friend. By finding Crowly, motionless in the box earlier. By the barrage of thoughts about his daddy, who died in an accident just a few months ago.
Yoshiki’s trembling voice shouts back. “You’re the one who makes me sick! And it’s been me takin’ care of Crowly all this time! Why do I have to take the blame!?”
Crowly’s box falls to the floor, forgotten, as Hikaru closes the gap between them. “Huh!? So how did he die, then? He was doin’ fine up till just now.”
“Beats me! You’re the one who makes him eat weird junk all the time! So don’t ya reckon yer the one who killed ‘im!?”
Hot tears of anger and guilt threaten to spill down Hikaru’s face. Gritting them back, he screams, “Yer always such a whiny wimp!” before grabbing Yoshiki’s shirt and wrestling him to the ground. Like always, the taller boy easily overpowers Hikaru. After several moments of awkward grappling, Hikaru shakes loose, rolls out from under Yoshiki, and sprints away, knowing that what he lacks in strength he more than makes up for in speed.
Glancing back, Hikaru notices his friend isn’t chasing. He’s not even looking this way. Yoshiki is kneeling and wiping his eyes, unknowingly smearing dirt on his own face. That makes Hikaru feel even more guilty and upset, and he ducks back into the shed they’d kept Crowly’s box in. Hiding himself under a table, he continues crying in peace.
“… Hikaru?” He hears Yoshiki’s voice in the doorway. The light is a little different; he must’ve dozed off. His guest plops down onto his knees in front of Hikaru, a weary expression on his face. “Hey… I’m sorry, Hikaru…”
Hikaru wipes his face with his hand, then his shoulder sleeve. “What for? I was bein’ stupid. Let’s go back,” he suggests, pulling himself to his feet and making the familiar trek toward his home. Yoshiki’s s’posed to stay the night, and I made it weird by getting’ mad about Crowly…
“Mama’s not gonna be home till late,” Hikaru announces while they remove their shoes in the entryway. “She said we can eat whatever’s in the fridge for dinner. I think she made rice, an’ there’s some watermelon left.” Yoshiki searches the kitchen to see what he can scrounge up, a natural routine—since Hikaru’s daddy died, his mama took on a new job in town and sometimes she didn’t come home till after dark.
“Hikaru… what the hell is this?” Yoshiki stops in front of the fridge, eyes wide and leaving the door hanging open.
He’s probably not referring to the half of a watermelon, or the pot of leftover rice, or even the chicken on the top shelf (it’s marinating for tomorrow). No, it’s more likely he’s gaping at the stacks of dozens of pudding cups that weren’t there last time he visited.
“Oh, those…” Hikaru mumbles, frowning. “Mama got ‘em on sale at the supermarket. They’re, what’s it called… sugar free.”
“Huh… wait, how? How d’ya make pudding with no sugar?”
“I dunno actually.” Yoshiki’s always asking smart questions like this. “Wanna try one? They’re not too bad.” Yoshiki nods. “Pull two outta there, then.” He obliges, bringing two cups to where Hikaru is seated at the table, then busies himself by heating up some rice for the two of them.
By the time Yoshiki brings the hot rice to the table, he’s greeted by a Hikaru whose face is covered in pudding, beside two empty cups. “Um… Hikaru. That one was ‘sposed to be mine, remember?”
His sticky friend chuckles mischievously. “’Sokay, there’s like a hundred in there. Could ya grab like, two more?”
Yoshiki scoffs, turning to get more pudding (and a spoon). “What’re you, some kinda wild animal?”
“Somethin’ like that,” Hikaru grins.
“Yer gross,” Yoshiki laughs, shaking his head. Taking a spoonful into his mouth, he pauses. A confused expression flits across his face as he swallows with great effort. “Dude…”
“Yeah?”
“Hikaru… this pudding is… really nasty.” Yoshiki proceeds to shovel rice into his mouth, obviously eager to replace the disgusting flavor.
“Huh? It’s not that bad,” Hikaru argues softly, finishing the scorned fourth cup. His chest starts feeling heavy again like before. “Yoshiki… I’m really sorry. For yelling at you about Crowly.”
“Oh. I mean, yeah, I’m sorry too. Yer right, it was my turn to feed him—”
“No! It wasn’t yer fault, it was…” Hikaru’s eyes started stinging again. “It was mine.”
Yoshiki turns in his seat to face Hikaru. “Why d’ya say that?”
“You were right, like you always are. I fed ‘im weird stuff. I… I gave Crowly this pudding the last two times it was my turn. He seemed like he really liked it! So I didn’t… I didn’ know…” The words come tumbling out of his mouth, and by the end he was choking back sobs.
He looks up to see a concerned expression on Yoshiki’s face. “It’s ok, Hikaru—”
“It’s not okay!! He died!”
“But you didn’t know it was gonna hurt ‘im,” Yoshiki soothes, “It’s really sad he’s dead. I’m sad, too. ‘n I’m really sorry, for pushin’ ya earlier.”
“Yeah, me too,” Hikaru uses the palms of his hands to wipe his eyes, smearing some pudding on his cheekbone. Woah, how’d that get all the way up there? I really am a wild animal.
“Gross!” Yoshiki stifles a laugh. “Go get cleaned up, then let’s read some manga.” Hikaru obeys, because Yoshiki is smarter and calmer and has good ideas.
Hikaru’s dreams were disturbing. He was burying Crowly’s body. But before he shoveled the last scoop of dirt, he saw the orange of his daddy’s hat peeking out of the shallow grave. In a panic, Hikaru scrabbled his fingers through the earth, desperate to reach his daddy, pulling out nothing but white hair and black feathers that dissolved as soon as he touched them. The hat was also gone. He kept digging. Crowly was nowhere to be found.
He wakes up, sweating and gasping. I dreamed about Daddy… was it my fault he died?
He glances to the left, hoping he didn’t startle Yoshiki. The other boy still breathing deeply, Hikaru sighs, then gets up to go sit on the porch. Some cool air will help, right?
I killed Crowly. I poisoned 'im with the pudding. Suddenly, he was terrified of who else might get hurt. What if it makes Mama sick, too? He makes a beeline for the fridge. I can’t let her eat it, I can’t lose her too!! He scoops all 30-something remaining pudding cups into a bag and takes them out onto the porch with him.
(He forgot a spoon again. But that’s okay.)
After about twenty cups and an ominous churning in his stomach, Hikaru starts to think this maybe wasn’t his best idea ever.
“Hikaru? Oh my god… Hikaru, what the hell?”
Hikaru swivels to see a baffled, slightly horrified Yoshiki standing in the doorway.
“Hey.”
“Dude… what are you…”
“Mmf. Hang on, would ya?” Hikaru staggers over to a bush and empties the contents of his stomach onto the grass.
“That dream sounds like it was real creepy,” Yoshiki mutters, passing a cup of water to his friend. “But that doesn’t explain why ya’d eat all that pudding. What the hell was goin’ through yer head?”
“I didn’t want Mama to eat it. What if she got hurt or sick, like Crowly?”
“Your mama’s not a bird, Hikaru.”
Hikaru pauses, considering the truth of this for the first time. Yoshiki makes a noise. “Hey, don’t laugh at me!”
“’m not,” Yoshiki deadpans. “But besides, doesn’t that just mean you got sick instead of her? D’ya think that’ll make her happy, you makin' yerself sick?”
“Well, no, but—hey! Ow!” He feels Yoshiki’s palm muss up his hair.
“I should call you ‘diet pudding cup boy’ from now on, huh?”
“What? No! That’s the worst name!”
“You shoulda thoughta that before you ate thirty cups in one night.”
~April 2020~
Hikaru zips up his backpack, eager for soccer club to begin. He loved practice games, passing drills, hell, even running laps. After taking barely two steps toward the door of their homeroom class, Yoshiki’s hand shoots out and grips his wrist, cementing Hikaru in place.
“Hey, puddin. Wait.” Yoshiki rifles through his own bag with the other hand, clearly focused on something.
“Whyyy, Yoshiki,” Hikaru whines, heat climbing to his ears as he hears Yoshiki absently using the dumb nickname. “I need to get to club.”
“Here.” He hands Hikaru a piece of paper. “You left your homework in my bag again.”
“Oh, uh… thanks, Yoshiki.” The nickname is our little joke. He never calls me that in public… maybe it was a mistake. He glances around to see if anyone heard.
He hears Asako and Yuuki giggling together. Aw, crap, they’re gonna make fun of me now. “Oh my gosh, y’all are too cute!” Asako chirps, a fond gleam in her eyes. Yuuki nods fervently.
Maki lets out a groan, his fingers clasped behind his head in a dramatic arm stretch. “Maaan! Why am I the only single one in our friend group?”
“Cuz yer a loser,” Yuuki teases with a grin. Yoshiki and Hikaru share an awkward glance.
As the two walk their bikes home, they chat about the day's club activities. One of Hikaru’s teammates got smashed in the face with the ball during a scrimmage. Yoshiki happened to be walking by with his camera and actually snapped a picture of the ordeal.
“Whoooa, a real action shot!” Hikaru barks with laughter when Yoshiki shows him the photo. The teammate was being launched backward with the force of the ball, the image captured expertly. “It’s not even blurry! I’m impressed, Yoshiki.”
They had stopped at a turn in the dirt road, leaning their bikes up against a fence so Yoshiki could display his work. Hikaru was enjoying basking in Yoshiki’s cool confidence; he didn’t often seem proud, but in this moment he was absolutely radiant.
“Hey, so…” Hikaru began, leaning himself up against the post across from Yoshiki and raising a hand behind his head.
“Hmm? What’s up?”
“Today in class.. Maki talked like he thought we were dating. They all kinda seemed to think so. Did ya know about that?”
Yoshiki let out a cautious chuckle. “I mean, are we in a relationship, or are we in a brolationship?”
Hikaru raises an eyebrow. “Brolationship? The hell does that mean?”
“Is that right?” Yoshiki squints toward the sky, seeming uncertain. “Brolationship? Bromance? Ah, I dunno, it’s somethin’ like that… Honestly, though, I got no idea. I heard one of Maki’s baseball buddies saying it one time,” he finishes hesitantly, face buried in one palm as he covers another laugh.
Hikaru gives it some thought. Then, heart racing, he offers, “I meeean… If you wanna date, that’s cool with me.”
Yoshiki stares, awestruck for a moment. Stepping forward, he closes the gap between them. “…really?” he breathes.
“Yeah... ‘course,” Hikaru whispers, trying to sound cool despite the flush rising to his cheeks. “I... like you a lot,” he admits, looking at his shoes.
He feels a hand cup his face, prompting him to glance up. Yoshiki is much closer now, he realizes, swallowing. Has my throat always been this dry? He reaches up and places his own hand over Yoshiki’s, his other resting on the taller boy’s shoulder.
The two stand mere inches apart, foreheads touching. When did that happen? Then, Yoshiki’s lips brush against his own. They’re warmer and softer than he’d imagined. Did I ever imagine this...?
Finally remembering to breathe, Hikaru leans into the kiss. He pulls his friend closer, moving his hand from Yoshiki's shoulder to gently frame his face. A strange thought comes to him as he inhales awkwardly through his nose: Yoshiki... smells really good.
Yoshiki pulls away first. Dropping his arm to his side, Hikaru notices, a little self-consciously, that he was lingering on his tiptoes for this kiss. Yoshiki is so tall, and strong, and—
“—okay?” Oops. Yoshiki’s definitely saying something.
“Hm?” Hikaru answers, as soon as his brain decides to stop short-circuiting.
“The kiss. Was it okay?” repeats Yoshiki, breathless and timid and adorable.
Hikaru can only beam and giggle in response, taking Yoshiki’s hand from his face and linking it with his own.
~~~
We’ve been dating ever since.