Chapter Text
When Keigo put an ad in for a roommate, he didn’t expect a 46-year-old divorcee to show up at his doorstep. In a suit and tie. Carrying a briefcase in one hand and his resume in the other.
“Can I help you?” Keigo asks reluctantly.
“Hello,” the man greets with a slight bow. “I’m looking for Takami…Keigo?”
Keigo stiffens. “Uh, I’m Kiego. Is something the matter…officer?”
“What? Oh no, no, I’m not—my name is Todoroki Enji and I’m here about your advert,” the man says, handing Kiego his resume. “For a roommate?”
“Oh.” Keigo takes the two-page resume and gives Enji a quick once-over. He’s tall; a bit intimidating. Stiff as a board with a very serious expression. At least he’s well-dressed. The suit he’s wearing must have cost him at least eighty thousand yen, which means affording a high-rise apartment in central Musutafu will be a cinch for him. He’s certainly not like any of the other prospects Keigo has interviewed over the last week, or anyone he’s boarded with in the past, but that might be okay given his disastrous history of roommates.
Not to mention, the man is eye-candy. Big and buff and definitely someone’s daddy. If Keigo plays his cards right, he could potentially—
Keigo scolds himself. No, stop that. We’re not doing that again.
“I’m sorry, was I too late?” Enji asks. “Is it already taken?”
“Ah—no, it isn’t, I’m glad you dropped by and I totally appreciate the enthusiasm, it’s just…um, can you come back later? Maybe I can text you my availability?”
Enji frowns, disappointed. “Oh. Is this a bad time?”
Keigo looks down. Yep, he’s still sopping wet and definitely only wearing a towel. “Little bit.”
Enji’s eyes widen suddenly and Keigo catches the blush across Enji’s cheeks before he turns around. “I apologize, I didn’t—I mean, of course. My number is at the top of my resume and you can call me at any time. My office is nearby so I can come back as soon as you’re available.”
“Is it okay if I text you tomorrow?” Keigo asks. “It’s getting kinda late, you shouldn’t have to go back into the office at this hour. Go home.”
“I—yes, um. My office is home…for now.”
The silence that immediately follows slams into Keigo like an incoming freight train. They stand awkwardly at the threshold for what seems like forever before Keigo decides to speak first.
“I—shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, uh…”
“It’s alright, it’s not your fault.”
“I know, it’s just—” Keigo shakes his head and pulls the door open. “Y’know what? Why don’t you come in? You’re here, so you might as well take a look at the place. And, uh…maybe we can get to know each other a little better? Just give me a second to change.”
It takes a moment for Enji to take Keigo up on his offer, staring into the apartment with a look of wonder and uncertainty. It’s not the best first impression, but maybe Keigo can still save this somehow because Enji is the first person who doesn’t seem like he’s putting on some sort of act and has actually got some of his shit together. It’d be nice to have a responsible roommate for once.
“Thank you, Takami,” Enji says, finally stepping inside and slipping off his shoes.
Keigo lightly kicks a pair of slippers toward him. “No need to be so formal. Keigo’s fine.”
“Oh. Well, you can call me Enji.”
“Y’sure I can’t call you big daddy?” Keigo pauses, the words flying out of his mouth unwittingly.
Shit. Whoops. Definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“Excuse me?”
“I—kidding,” Keigo says, turning away to hide his flushed cheeks. He gestures to the open common spaces and starts for the hallway to his room. “Feel free to look around and make yourself at home. I’ll meet you out here in a bit.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
Keigo doesn’t even bother glancing back, too paranoid to make eye contact, and bolts as quickly as he can to his room, locking the door behind him.
That could have gone better.
He shakes it off because he knows there’s absolutely no reason to be nervous. He’s the one in control, he’s the one making decisions, and he’s got home field advantage. All he has to do is relax and find out whether this Todoroki Enji is roommate material or not.
Keigo changes into a pair of sweatpants and a makeshift tank, and reviews his list of non-negotiables. The rules. The traits that the prospective roommate must possess in order to live here, otherwise it’s a no-go.
One, prospects must be financially stable, which Enji clearly is. A quick Google search shows that Enji is indeed a partner at one of the most prestigious firms in Japan.
Two, no party animals. Keigo’s line of work is very social and he often has to entertain clients at home—he’d rather not come home to a gaggle of frat boys fucking up the leather or staying up at all hours of the night. Luckily, Enji doesn’t seem the type to party. Plus, he’s a lawyer so he’ll probably be holed up at his office most of the time.
Three, don’t stink. Just don’t.
Four, Keigo needs prospects on a ten on the maturity scale. Yet to be determined, but from the two minutes he’s spent with Enji, he doesn’t think he needs to worry.
Last, but certainly not least, he absolutely cannot fall in love with whoever his next roommate is. Fine if they’re friends because Keigo wants to get along with the person he’s going to be living with, but he cannot fall in love. It’s happened too many times before and it’s always ended in heartache.
Although with Enji, he briefly wonders how far he can bend that rule without actually breaking it. He shakes his head furiously.
Stop! Hold your ground. He has to meet all five requirements.
Luckily, Keigo thinks he does.
“This could be the one,” he mutters, knocking on his wooden dresser for luck before heading back out into the living room to meet Enji.
Interestingly, Keigo finds him gazing at his record collection with a dopey expression, not unlike the one he wears when he’s at a record store. Well, they at least have one thing in common. He clears his throat and Enji turns around.
“You like?” Keigo asks, grinning proudly. “I’ve got hundreds that I’ve been collecting since I was a kid. I’ve got a handful of record players, too.”
Enji studies him carefully and nods. “I’m impressed. And…surprised.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“You have taste.”
Keigo’s jaw hangs open, a little bit insulted, but extremely amused. “Was…did you make a funny?”
Enji tilts his head. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“Oh” is all Keigo can really say because for some reason that just makes it even more amusing. He chuckles. “Well, thanks. I like to think I have some class.”
“I didn’t think anyone your age knew what a record player was,” Enji admits. “I guess I imagined more high tech and surround sound.”
“We have that too,” Keigo says, enjoying the shock on Enji’s face. “Alexa, play Bach’s Mass in B Minor.”
“Okay, playing Bach’s Mass in B Minor.” Soothing violins follow, filling the entire apartment with Bach’s symphony.
“See? Classy.” Keigo winks and waits for more praise about how wonderful his taste in music is.
Enji just stares blankly. “Def Leppard would have been the better choice.”
Keigo’s jaw drops for the second time. “Okay, that was a funny.”
“Yes. Yes, it was.”
Keigo laughs and gestures for Enji to follow him to the kitchen because, in all honesty, this whole exchange requires drinks. “I have to admit, I only know and like one Def Leppard song. I prefer Bowie or Elton.”
“Me too.”
This time Keigo makes an effort to keep his jaw from plummeting to the ground. “Alexa, play Elton John.”
Bach is replaced with Elton’s Border Song and Keigo can’t help but think how on point Alexa is tonight.
“An excellent choice,” Enji says.
“I agree,” Keigo says, smiling and walking across the kitchen to grab a bottle of Merlot from his wine rack. When he turns around, Enji is behind the island with two wine glasses.
“They were easy to find,” Enji says, twirling the corkscrew with the other hand.
Okay. Old man has moves, I’m pleasantly surprised by this.
“I have an electric corkscrew,” Keigo says, snatching it from its charger and fitting it over the bottleneck.
“Of course you do.”
“There isn’t a shortage of gadgets around here. I like the convenience since my schedule is so hectic. You’ll see, you’ll be grateful for roombas and instant pots and self-cleaning toilets.” Keigo pours them each a glass during a bout of awkward silence, suddenly realizing that he’s talking as if Enji’s moving in tonight. When this is technically supposed to be an interview. “Ah, I mean—that is, if this all works out. If you, um…like what you see.”
“I like what I see,” Enji says with a smile and Keigo’s stupid heart skips a beat. “The place is very spacious. Clean. The neighbors seem quiet. It’s walking distance from the office. And you seem lovely to live with.”
Keigo blushes and quickly reminds himself of rule number five, a non-negotiable. Keigo cannot fall for the DILF. He cannot fall for the middle-aged rich man. N-O.
“So, uh,” Keigo says, handing him a glass and attempting to redirect the conversation. “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”
“Right, um…” Enji takes a long sip, a bundle of nerves all over again. “Well. I’m a partner at a law firm here in Musutafa, but we have locations all over the world. We represent companies and business leaders by helping them execute strategy and overcome legal challenges—”
“Enji, this isn’t a job interview,” Keigo interrupts before he starts reciting the firm’s mission statement. “I just want to get an idea of what it’d be like living with you. Have you lived with others before?”
“Well, um…” Enji takes to his drink again and this time Keigo thinks he’s going to empty his glass.
“Hey, wait—” Keigo says, tugging at Enji’s sleeve and seizing the glass from his grasp. “You get a refill after you’ve answered my questions.”
“I…yes, I have.” Enji lets out a shallow exhale, avoiding Keigo’s gaze at all cost. “I’m recently divorced. Separated for about a year but the divorce was finalized just a few months ago.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” Keigo takes the wine bottle and pours him another glass because fuck. That sucks. “Are you…okay?”
“I suppose. There are a lot of things I regret, but the separation was amicable. It was the right thing to do. My family has been very understanding and supportive.”
“Family?” Keigo asks curiously. He takes a sip of wine before prodding. “Kids?”
Enji nods and pulls out his phone from his pocket. “Four. My eldest—Touya and Fuyumi—are probably around your age.” He slides his phone over on the counter and Keigo turns the screen to get a clearer view.
Five gorgeous family members. Damn. Any one of them could be supermodels. Why is life so unfair?
“Who’s who?” Keigo asks.
“That’s Rei, my wife—er, ex-wife,” Enji says, pointing to a slender woman with long white hair.
Keigo’s ears prick up. Did he say… ex-wife?
“Next to her is Natsuo,” Enji continues. “He’s currently attending college outside the city. Then Shouto, my youngest, then Fuyumi and finally, Touya.”
So, hot—hot—hot—and HOLY FUCK HOT.
“He’s a cutie,” Keigo says, zooming in on Touya’s picture. Lots of piercings. Tattoos. Bright blue eyes like his father. And a mischievous smile that makes Keigo weak in the knees.
Although boys like that always spell trouble and Keigo’s officially retired from that kind of life.
Enji chuckles. “I kind of figured you’d say that.”
“Am I that predictable?”
“Hmm. More like Touya is a natural charmer. He can flash someone a smile across the room and suddenly they’re putty in his hands.”
Exactly like boys who spell trouble. “A player,” Keigo mumbles before taking a gulp of his own wine.
“A what?”
“Oh—” Keigo winces. Again, totally didn’t mean for Enji to hear that. What is wrong with your filter today? You’re usually better at being tactful. “Um, a player?” When Enji blinks, Keigo wonders if that term is too current. “Um, gigolo? No, that sounds rude. Smooth operator? Don Juan.”
“Oh you mean like a Casanova?”
“Yes! Yes, he seems like a real Casanova.” He thinks. He’ll need to Google it later.
“Yes, I can see that,” Enji says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But, he’s mostly just an asshole.”
Keigo nearly chokes on his drink. Okay. He likes this guy. Respectable, experienced, frank (if not a little blunt), and funny. And thank fuck he’s straight as hell. Temptation eliminated and rule five is protected. Dodged that bullet.
“You all seem like you care about each other very much,” Keigo says, sliding Enji’s phone back to him.
There’s a bit of heaviness behind his eyes when Enji smiles back and Keigo makes a note to tread lightly about family stuff in the future. “We’ve come a long way,” Enji says. “It’s mostly been lonely after the divorce, which is why a friend recommended co-inhabitation.”
Keigo laughs. “Well, I’m glad you found me. It seems like it might be a good fit.” Keigo quietly scolds himself again. You’re just going to offer him the place after fifteen minutes of meeting him, aren’t you? God, you’re the worst. “And, uh, I don’t think you have to worry. Someone as successful as you will have no problems finding love again.”
Enji lifts an eyebrow, expression hopeful. “You…think so?”
“I know so. You’re a real DILF.”
“Excuse me?”
Ah, fuck. Keigo grimaces and pushes his wine glass aside. Maybe being baked and drunk isn’t a good idea; he’s made way too many mistakes tonight. “Um. DILF. Stands for ‘Dads I’d Like to…” he sucks in a quick breath, suddenly horrified about finishing that sentence. He flails. “...Find Ordinary Relations With.”
Enji studies him for a moment. “Isn’t that technically DILFORWith?”
Keigo reddens and bites back his laughter. “Uh—no comment.”
“You realize I’ll likely just look it up later?”
“Please don’t.”
When Enji chuckles, Keigo can feel the soft, low rumble down to his toes. If something as modest as a chuckle makes his skin tingle, he wonders what a full-belly laugh would do and makes it his life mission to find out. “Anyway, I have a knack for these things,” Keigo says gently. “You’ll find the right person.”
Enji smiles sadly into his glass. “You’re very good at flattery.”
“Thank you,” Keigo says, kicking Enji’s leg lightly. “It’s a huge part of my job so it better be.”
“What is your job?”
“Oh, I’m, uh…” There really isn’t a diplomatic way to say it and as long as Keigo doesn’t say ‘I escort clients, usually lonely middle-aged people like you, to fancy dinner parties and the theater and exclusive events,’ he’s probably good. “I work for a company that provides relaxation, entertainment, and healing through companionship.”
“Oh, like a Rent-A-Boyfriend?”
Keigo’s eyes go round and he reaches over to give Enji a friendly slap in the arm. “Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?” Enji asks, a mixture of shock and amusement on his face. “Why did you hit me?”
“Stop surprising me!” Keigo exclaims, laughing. “How on earth do you know what a Rent-A-Boyfriend is?”
“Touya asked me to rent one for him for his eighteenth birthday.”
“Oh. Yeah okay, that makes sense.”
“Are you surprised because I’m very hip with the times?”
Keigo actually face-palms. “Please don’t say ‘very hip with the times’, it’s not very hip with the times.”
“But, you just said it.”
“Yes, but I’m impossibly good-looking and irresistible, so I’m allowed,” Keigo replies with a wink.
“And I’m not?”
“You—” Keigo freezes because he wants to say you are, but that’s crossing a line. They barely know each other and yet this relationship feels easy. It feels natural and he isn’t sure how that’s even possible. Trust has always been so difficult for him, but this stranger makes him want to trust more freely. “—are about twenty years too late, old man.”
Enji rolls his eyes. “You remind me of Touya.”
“We’d probably get along.”
“Sadly, he already has an apartment he’s locked into,” Enji redirects effortlessly. Damn that courtroom training. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me as a prospective roommate? My bedtime routine? My take on shared chores? If I like to entertain friends?”
Keigo smirks. It’s nice to see him more relaxed. And all of those would be helpful to know, but he’s already decided. It was truly a no-brainer.
“Look, I’m going to cut to the chase,” Keigo says, sliding out of his chair and walking around the kitchen counter to place his wineglass in the sink with the rest of his dishes from earlier. “You’re the best candidate I’ve interviewed so far and I don’t think I’ll find someone else as responsible and financially secure as you. Plus, you’re fun to be around. You just have to pass one last test.”
Enji stands, brows furrowed. “What’s that?”
Keigo pulls the door to his dishwasher open and points. “Load the dishwasher. If you fuck it up, you’re out.”
— — —
It’s a comfort to know that even after being abroad for so long, Tsunagu hasn’t changed one bit. He meets Enji at their favorite lunch spot, fashionably late as usual, in a colorful outfit that Enji’s never seen and heels so high he towers over him.
“Welcome home,” Enji says, extending a hand for Tsunagu to shake. Tsunagu snatches his wrist instead and pulls, hugging him for far too long and with far more enthusiasm than Enji thinks is necessary. Especially in public.
“Enji, how I’ve missed you,” Tsunagu says, tightening his grip and rocking Enji side to side. “How’s my baby gay doing?”
“Currently? Suffocating.”
“Oh. Yes, let’s sit, shall we?” Tsunagu finally lets go and quickly takes his seat, leaving Enji gasping for air. When they both settle in and place their orders with the waiter, Tsunagu stares across the table with a mischievous smirk that Enji doesn’t like.
“So…” Enji starts, shifting in his chair. “How was Paris?”
“Delightful.”
“Al...right. And the collaboration with the Aoyama family went well? Was it a successful venture?”
“Yes. Very.”
Enji narrows his eyes as Tsunagu’s grin widens. “Are you still readjusting to Japan life?”
“I’ve adjusted.”
“Tsunagu!” Enji snaps. He isn’t sure how but Tsunagu always has a way of wearing down his patience, a skill Enji wishes he could have forgotten during his time away.
“What?” Tsunagu asks innocently. “Is something wrong?”
“You are normally an incessant chatterbox so when you go quiet, it’s unnerving. Now spit out whatever you have to say.”
“Oh my god, tell me about him!!” Tsunagu squeals, clutching the tablecloth and nearly knocking their waters over. He clears his throat. “I apologize, that was uncouth. Regale me with tales of this hot, new roommate of yours.”
Enji turns beet red and avoids the side glances of diners nearby. “Can you keep it down? I still have an image to uphold.”
“Oh, please, everyone and their lesbian mothers know you’re gay, that’s yesterday’s news,” Tsunagu says, leaning back on his chair. “You still have people’s respect.”
“I don’t mean it that way,” Enji says, draping the napkin over his lap. “I meant it’s not very professional to gossip during a workday.”
Tsunagu crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m a columnist, all I do is gossip.” He kicks Enji under the table with a pointed stiletto and Enji has half a mind to kick him back. “Oh, come on, Enji. Who was the first person you turned to when your marriage was on the rocks? Who took you under their wing when you first came out? Who welcomed you into their home with open arms when the separation happened?”
“I’m remembering it differently, you opened the door and threatened me with a hot flat iron in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other.”
Tsunagu waves a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, but after that—after that I welcomed you with open arms.”
Enji groans. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Is the sky blue? Do fish swim? Is the atomic weight of Cobalt 58.9?”
Enji cracks a smile at the Ghostbusters reference. “Fine. You win.” He stops Tsunagu with a raised hand before he can start firing questions. “With a few caveats. I will not tell you his family name and I will not show you a picture and I will not tell you which level we live on and will you please pick your jaw up from the floor? It’s rude.”
“You’re rude!” Tsunagu exclaims with a pout. “Why can’t you tell me his family name?”
“I don’t need you snooping around and digging into his private life,” Enji says dryly.
“I can’t even see a picture?!”
“No—oh, thank you,” Enji says to the waiters as they set their food on the table (a lobster bisque for Enji and a cobb salad for Tsunagu—literally what they always order at this particular establishment). Tsunagu also takes the liberty of ordering two mimosas because apparently this conversation warrants it.
Tsunagu hums thoughtfully. “He’s either fugly and you’re too embarrassed to admit it or so gorgeous that you want to keep him all to yourself.”
“Fugly?”
Tsunagu jabs a roma tomato with his fork. “Fucking ugly.”
“He’s not…fugly,” Enji says slowly, stirring his soup with a spoon. “And his name is Keigo.”
“Keigo. Your messages mentioned he was…twenty-two?”
“Mmhm.” Enji takes a couple of spoonfuls of his bisque to hide the fact he’s blushing again. While it’s a little bit irritating that he’s overreacting to a measly little crush that likely means nothing, he’s grateful that he’s able to talk to Tsunagu about it. Rei is a wonderful listener and incredibly understanding, but it’s not quite the same, confiding in your ex-wife. He truly missed Tsunagu.
“You cradle-robber,” Tsunagu teases.
Yes, he missed Tsunagu. Even when he’s being a prick.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Enji mumbles, forgoing the mimosa for a glass of water and dodging Tsunagu’s dirty look. “There is nothing going on between us.”
“Yet,” Tsunagi adds with emphasis. “It’s only been a month. Give it time.”
“There is nothing going on between us,” Enji repeats, glaring across the table. “We are co-inhabitants. That’s all.”
“You’re no fun.” Tsunagu drains his mimosa, which Enji watches with disdain, and hails down a waiter for another glass. “I thought you’d loosen up after finally getting the opportunity to live out your true authentic self. Immerse yourself in gay culture, wear rainbow-colored cut-off shorts and sequin neckties. At least try on various shades of lipstick.”
“You’re stereotyping again.”
“I’m encouraging you to experiment,” Tsunagu corrects. “You’ve lived in this boring, 1.5 cubic foot, heteronormative box for so long, it wouldn’t kill you to lean into your discomfort a little. Who knows, you might learn something new about yourself.”
Enji rolls his shoulders, slightly irked about being called out so accurately. Tsunagu is absolutely right, he’s never given himself a chance to explore beyond what’s expected of him, his whole life spent following society’s rules. And when he’s tried, a voice in the back of his head warns him that he’s too old, it’s too late, he would have to force people who know him to rewrite their narratives about him. It’s a lot of inconveniences and there’s a lot of risk of heartbreak that Enji isn’t prepared to experience…again.
“I’m planning a drag show in about six weeks. Maybe you can come to that?”
Enji immediately opens his mouth to say no, but stops himself. “I’ll…consider it.”
“Wonderful,” Tsunagu says, smiling. “So. What’s it like living with the Gen Z’er?”
Enji flinches. Oh lord. “That’s one way to call out the age gap.”
“You’re double his age,” Tsunagu says gleefully because he just loves to torment Enji. “He’s younger than Touya.”
“Yes, you’ve belabored your point.”
“Does he crush beer cans with his forehead and yell ‘hoorah!’ every time he doesn’t manage to burn a plate of hot pockets in the microwave?”
“You really need to stop stereotyping people.”
“Alright, but am I wrong?”
“Yes,” Enji answers confidently, grateful that he doesn’t have to lie because Tsunagu would be able to tell in an instant. “He’s nothing like that. He’s considerate and respectful and communicative. He keeps an immaculate home and works extremely hard. I see his clients come in and out constantly, and it’s clear they adore him. He’s young, but he’s mature beyond his years. Yes, there are a few things he does that reveal his age, like walk around the apartment half-naked, but I imagine he’s just comfortable and—”
Enji pauses, suddenly noticing the evil grin on Tsunagu’s face and realizing he’s said too much. He rambled far longer than he meant and he isn’t sure how that happened, but the damage is done and now he’s going to suffer.
“You like him,” Tsunagu states blatantly. “I can’t believe it. I thought it was just a crush, but you’ve actually developed feelings for him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Enji drains his mimosa and whatever Tsunagu had left in his second glass.
“I have to say, I’m quite shocked, Enji. I didn’t think you’d fall for someone so fast. Especially someone so young. Oh!” Tsunagu shimmies excitedly and Enji covers his face, embarrassed. “How thrilling!”
“You are jumping into conclusions, Tsunagu.”
“When can I meet him?”
“NEVER.”