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Three AM.
Somehow, they had found themselves in some old, ratty diner with red booths torn at the seams and checkered flooring. Not Ash’s kind of scene, but who was he to refuse Eiji— who practically dragged him by the arm towards the neon sign beckoning them from across the street?
It was expected of him. Eiji had always worn his big heart on his sleeve, swayed by blinding colors and the very notion of love itself. So when they’re sitting across from each other and sharing a strawberry milkshake and thin-cut fries, Ash isn’t fazed. He isn’t fazed in the slightest by his glimmering eyes that reflected the red-blue-green strip lights overhead, or the way he swung his legs under the table, or how his lips shone from the sugar-sweet of their milkshake. Maybe he’s numb to it— or chooses to be. Once, his heart stirred for him, but Ash knows he isn’t anyone special. Eiji is Eiji. He’s like this to everyone.
“Aren’t you gonna help me?” Eiji asks, mouth full of starch.
“Dunno. I mean, bendy straws?”
“Don’t be lame. You know I’m lactose intolerant. If I finish this whole thing by myself, it’ll come right back out.”
Fair.
Ash goes in for a sip, tempting to pull back as Eiji moves closer to drink. Their foreheads are almost touching, and for a second, his chest flutters. His face shares the same hue as the cushions he’s sitting on as he watches Eiji smile around the straw.
“What?” splutters Ash, twirling a fry between his fingers to distract him from the pulses throughout his body.
“Nothing,” he chuckles. “It’s just really nice of you, man. Paying for my shake and fries and all. You’re too kind.”
“Ha. Ha.” He points the soggy fry in his direction and chomps. “Very funny, Eiji.”
Eiji settles back in his seat, swaying his body to the jukebox jazz lulling from the back. Ash observes the way his head of hair bounces with him as he hums absentmindedly to the scratchy tune. Must be as soft as down feathers. Ash wants to reach out and touch. Instead, he tucks his hands under his thighs and shakes his knees.
“This is pretty romantic, don’tcha think? Perfect place to bring a girl.” Ash chokes. “Late night. City’s asleep besides the two of you— like you’re the only people in the world."
“Hardly. This place is extremely tacky.”
“Such a doomer! Bring a girl here next time and I guarantee you’ll be smooched before sunrise! Then, you’ll rue your words and thank me!”
Ash sucks on his straw thickly as he side-eyes him with amusement, feeling so ‘in-the-know’ for harboring a secret Eiji is forbidden from hearing. The irony is bittersweet.
“Okay, Oh Wise One. I’ll file it in the back cabinet for future reference.”
“You won’t."
“You’re right.” Ash smirks.
“Well, I’d totally kiss you right now,” Eiji says, jaw dropping immediately at the sudden realization of his innermost thoughts coming to surface. Ash had reached the end of the glass but still continued to sip— making this obnoxious gurgling noise to drown out the heavy pounding in his ears. “If I were a girl!”
“Oh.” Ash feels sick to his stomach. Maybe he’s the lactose intolerant one.
“I didn’t mean— You’re a great guy and—“
“I get it. You’re fine.” Ash musters a grin. “You yapped so much that I finished your milkshake. You’re welcome.”
“I made things so weird just now, didn’t I? Oh my God. I’m really sorry.” Eiji buries his face into his palms. “Don’t… Don’t look at me for a while, okay? I’m seriously embarrassed.”
“It’s only weird if you think it’s weird, weirdo,” he chuckles. “If you could see the look on your face right now—“
“Meanie.”
Ash gawks, placing a hand on his breast to feign his bewilderment.
“Me? I’m the mean one? First, making me pay and now playing victim. The audacity!” Eiji doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even have one of his stupid quips ready to fire. Noticing that something is amiss, Ash nudges his leg with the tip of his toe. “You good? It was a joke.”
“Let’s forget about this and talk about something else,” he whispers, finally looking up behind a curtain of black. He’s glowing— absolutely glowing with this warm fuzziness that Ash can’t help but be entranced by it yet again.
“Yeah. Totally, dude. I’m chilling.” Why does he feel so winded? Like someone punched him in the gut and deprived him of all of the oxygen in his body? He hates this. “But before I use the Neurolyzer on myself, if you were, hypothetically speaking, female…”
“God, Ash—“
“No, no. If I recall, you said you’d kiss me.”
“Yeah. Sure. I said I would. Moving on.“
“So riddle me this: Would you still kiss me the way you are this very moment?” Eiji shoots his gaze down immediately. He fidgets in his seat and twiddles his thumbs, actually considering the question. He takes a minute. He takes two. The silence withers Ash's life force until he's lived up to his name and reduces to a pile of dust in this excruciating wait. “Eiji. I’m teasing. You don’t have to actually answer—“
He nods.
He nods and it rips an inferno through every fiber of Ash’s being. Every sense in him is heightened. The strawberries are fresh on his tongue. Everything around him’s blurred, save for his best friend sitting an arm's-length away from him— His adorable, tenderhearted best friend he wishes was slightly more than a best friend. His fingertips tingle with yearning, nose fills with the scent of his cologne. Etta James is crooning a swing ballad that plucks his heartstrings in a one-two-three, one-two-three tempo; setting a slow and steady beat to have your love requited. A beat to dance with a special someone. Hand in hand. Chests pressed together.
“Ash. Say something.”
It’s three AM, and Ash is convinced he’s asleep. He pinches his leg, once, twice, and feels the pangs of reality reassuring him that his feelings had been reciprocated.
“Hypothetically speaking, if I were to kiss you right now—“
“Does it always have to be hypothetical?” Eiji groans.
“No." Ash smiles. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Cool.” Eiji grabs a handful of fries and shoves it into his mouth.
“Cool.” Ash traces the curves of his mouth with his eyes. Eiji bites his bottom lip as if he was aware with the sudden infatuation Ash had with it.
"So..."
“So,” Ash draws out the vowel and gulps the lump in his throat down.
Eiji makes the first move and leans forward, eyes shut and lashes brushing his bronze skin, waiting for Ash to meet him in the middle.
Oh. They’re actually doing this. He hyperventilates, suddenly thinking about the Burt’s Bees and the pack of gum he forgot to bring. Jesus. He might have that permanent coffee taste stained on his tongue. Might have a little dead skin on his lips—
Before he can have second thoughts, however, Eiji’s lips had already eclipsed his in a sweet and salty smooch. He’s on his feet, torso practically splayed out over the table as he cradles Ash’s face in his hands, angling his head like he’s done this— dreamed of this— many times.
Ash is starting to see it. The romance in it all. In neon lights and checkered patterns. In bendy straws and grease. He feels it wrap around him in an embrace of lush musical notes, elevating him to a rose-colored plane he never knew existed.
“You think too much,” Eiji tells him, pulling away slowly. Breathlessly. He likes how hot it feels on his face.
“Was that a hypothetical girl-kiss or a you one?” asks Ash, brushing his fingers where Eiji once was.
“Me, dummy.” Eiji plants another one, and another, and another until he expunges 'hypothetical' from Ash’s vocabulary.