Work Text:
“What did you want to investigate up here again?”
Nagito smiles over his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Isn’t it interesting? There are all these empty houses on this island. I’m interested in whether the inhabitants left anything behind. Surely, for there to be so many houses, someone must have been living here before we arrived.”
The empty houses Nagito is talking about are all the small abodes that litter the hillside behind the main attractions on the third island. Only Nagito would think to investigate the seemingly insignificant. So, he had gone to the effort of dragging Hajime up here during a spell of free time they had.
Hajime huffs, looking around, noticing a distinct lack of something present everywhere on the island that was important, “I don’t think you’re going to find anything.”
“What makes you say that?”
“There’s no surveillance.” Hajime crosses his arms, “If there were anything up here to find, then there would be. You’re just wasting your time.”
“I’m sure you’re right. An ultimate is always right. Would you be so kind as to allow me to indulge my curiosity for a little while longer?”
Hajime groans, puffing out his cheeks with a soft tilt of his head . A weak, reluctant agreement to Nagito’s request.
“I can’t help but think about the families who must’ve lived in these places. Probably all regular, non-special, average members of society. I wonder if they would’ve left their houses in better condition if they’d known who they’d be hosting later on down the line.”
“Even if they were pristine, who knows how long it’s been since anyone’s lived in them?”
“Did you use to dream about this kind of thing?” Nagito muses, walking over to a window and clearing the grime off of one of the glass panes with his palm, “Owning a house, building a family, a dog called Fetch and a cat called Fluffy. Twins, one boy and one girl. The white picket fence.”
“What, like a nuclear family?” He snickers, “No. Or, well, not that specifically, I guess. I don’t think a normal life with a normal family is so bad. I might have an ultimate, and maybe it’s because I can’t remember what it is, but I think even normalcy is better than this.”
“Yeah?” Nagito turns to face him, leaning back against the ledge underneath the window, “The life of an ultimate can never be normal. It’s an oxymoron.”
“And you are an oxy- moron .” Hajime mutters under his breath. “Why do you ask?”
“Do you want to see what that feels like?” Nagito takes a few easy steps towards Hinata, “A normal life?”
“I don’t think it’d be all bad. Fat chance of that happening around here, though.”
“I can help you. A little role-play?”
Hajime scoffs, “And what would you know about being normal?”
“Just because I hate it doesn’t mean I can’t mimic it.” Nagito says with the same clemency he always has, “Just close your eyes.”
“Are you joking?” Hajime blinks in confusion, “Nuh-uh, no way.”
“C’mon. Don’t you trust me?”
Hajime pauses while he processes that astonishing question.
“Obviously not!”
“Just…ugh, here.” He covers Hajime’s eyes with his hand, “Close your eyes! The scenario is…hm…you just got home from work.”
Hajime rolls his eyes so hard they do a 360, but with Nagito’s insistence, he relents, closing his eyes, trying to envision the vacant shell of a house they were in as a normal apartment.
It could be any apartment in the centre of a bustling city. The sound of far-off car horns and sirens. The cutting caws of crows sitting on electric wires. The cry of laughter from the auntie who lived next door, watching her daytime TV shows.
Inside, a cream-coloured sofa, big enough for two, in front of a TV. Two doors that lead to a bedroom and a kitchen. Paintings and stock photos were left in picture frames they’d put up, but were too lazy to fill. Old magazines that were frayed at the edges, piled, filling up the awkward space in the middle of the coffee table. A junk table by the door, with pamphlets that had to be thrown away, a bowl of loose change and a couple of sets of keys.
Even just thinking about it made Hajime feel a little more soothed, despite the ache of missing such places.
Nagito clears his throat, “So…how was work?”
Hajime bites back the cringe he feels, and shrugs, “Busy, but it was okay.”
“You’re always so busy at that damn place.” Komaeda whines, “Your boss forgets you’re a human and not a machine.”
“It’s not too bad.” Hajime mumbles as he tries to imagine what he’d be doing, “I’m just…restocking drinks and selling cigarettes to old men on their lunch break.”
“A convenience store? Really? You couldn’t be more creative than that?”
“Hey! Quit it. You’re the one who suggested doing this.”
“Okay, okay, okay. How heavy are those drinks anyway? No wonder your shoulders are so tense. Come, sit, I’ve got dinner in the oven.”
“Have you?” Hajime chuckles, “Well, I guess I can’t wait to eat.”
Nagito takes Hajime’s wrist and guides him to an old chair in the middle of the house, making him sit down. “Maybe a massage while you wait?”
“Are you using this as an excuse to touch me?”
“Using what as an excuse?” Nagito hums, “It’s just us two, in the apartment that we share.”
“As if I’d choose to share an apartment with you.” Hajime feels Nagito’s fingers on his shoulders, pressing tentatively.
“Well, right now, you are.” Nagito leans down so his lips are next to Hajime’s ear, “I think I’d be a pretty good roommate, y’know? I’d clean, learn to cook, look after my things…and you.”
Hajime fights back the shiver that wants to run up his spine at how close his voice sounds. He is feeling vulnerable, with his eyes closed, alone with Nagito.
Hajime starts to feel Nagito’s hands squeeze and press along his shoulders, despite who was doing it, and how awkward it seems, it feels good. Hajime tries to remember if he’s ever been given a massage before, but he draws a blank. Another first from Nagito. This guy seemed to be full of them. First guy to ever become a crazy psycho in front of him. The first guy to pretend to be normal. The first guy to have taken such a keen interest in Hinata.
“Does that feel better?” Nagito asks, “I hung up our laundry. I used that fabric softener you like.” Nagito continues, “I’ll iron your shirt before you leave tomorrow morning. I know you like it when your shirt is warm when you leave.”
Hajime lets the smell of fabric softener fill his nose, and the image in his mind becomes clearer. He starts to imagine how he’d move around the space, where he’d put things he owned. What stuff he’d have to move to make space for Nagito’s things. How the shelves would fill with random trinkets chronicling their time together. How long had they lived in that dinky little apartment together? Were they roommates? Friends? Something else?
“Oh, you did? Thanks. It’s uh, thoughtful. The one from the supermarket in central?”
“Yeah.” Nagito sighs, “You always have me travelling so far into town just to get that softener! You’re lucky I like you.”
Hajime laughs softly, “What would I do without you?”
“Perish.” Nagito teases. “You know your co-worker? The pretty, cute one who likes video games? She stopped by the other morning when you were doing the grocery shopping.” Hajime immediately knows who he’s talking about, “She was asking about you. I think she likes you.”
“Is that right? Maybe you’re just seeing something that’s not there.”
“Who would stop by someone’s place unprompted if there wasn’t something there?” He frowns, “I felt kind of jealous.”
Hajime allows himself to relax into Nagito’s hands. “Jealous, huh? Why were you jealous? Do you want some cutie to drop by looking for you?”
“No, I want some cutie to get home looking for me.” Nagito leans down, “But in reality, all he does is get in, discard his bag and fall onto the couch.”
Hajime halts, “Is this part of the act?”
“Shush.” Nagito says, “What should I say to my cutie to make him pay more attention to me?”
Hajime takes a moment, deciding Nagito is still playing a role. He must be, there’s no other option, so Hajime plays back.
“Maybe you should just tell your cutie that that’s what you want.”
“Do you think that would work?”
“You never know until you try.”
Nagito goes quiet for a minute, kneading and pushing at Hajime’s skin, “Hinata-Kun. I want you to pay more attention to me.”
The tone of seriousness in Nagito’s voice catches Hajime off guard and shocks him into silence.
“Do you think you could do that?” He continues, “We’ve been living together for three years. Everything here is you and me. That stain on the couch because you spilt orange juice on it the first night after we got it. The dining table that hasn’t stopped wobbling after I fell over it when you scared me. The TV that we both know exactly how hard to whack when the signal is bad. It’s all you and me. So why can’t we be you and me?”
“You’re taking this a bit far.” Hajime murmurs.
“The sleepy boy on the beach. The search for a missing talent. An admiration of such a talent. The house on the hill with no surveillance. That’s all you and me, too, right?”
“…Nagito.” Hajime goes to open his eyes, but Nagito’s hand closes over them again.
“I think you’d like living with me.” Nagito stoops back down so his lips are centimetres from Hajime’s ear again, “I’d make sure you were worshipped like an ultimate is meant to be.”
Hinata is stunned solid when Nagito’s lips make contact with the soft nook of skin between his neck and shoulder, stupefied on how to respond.
“You’re only human, right?” Nagito’s hand stays over Hajime’s eyes firmly. The air moves, so Hajime knows he’s standing right in front of him, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. “And it’s just us, in our apartment. The apartment with the leaky sink, the cracked bathroom tile, the coffee-maker that was too expensive and complicated for either of us to understand how to work . Here I am, in front of you. What are you going to do about it?”
Before Hajime can wet his tongue enough to respond, their lips touch softly. Briefly . It lasted just a moment. If it hadn’t been prefaced by Nagito, Hajime could’ve chalked it all up to his imagination, but it wasn’t; he had just been kissed.
“I…don’t…” Hajime mumbles feebly, unsure what to say or do. Does he get angry? Does he storm out? Does he throw a punch or a kick? Does he want another one?
What?
“I don’t what?” Nagito repeats him, “Which question are you trying to ask? I don’t…know how I missed this? I don’t know how I was so stupid to go exploring with you without knowing your intentions? I don’t know why I haven’t noticed how you fit so squarely into my routine? I don’t know how I didn’t notice how much he really, really likes me? Those are all questions I’d be asking myself if I were you.”
All Hajime can do is say his name.
“Nagito!”
Hajime reaches up to pull Nagito’s hand from his face, but Nagito is stronger than he looks, not allowing it.
“Don’t break the illusion, Hajime. You were enjoying it, weren’t you? Thinking about how nice it would be to come home to someone. How nice it would be to have someone dote on you. How nice it might be to feel someone’s lips at the end of the day. My lips on yours. It’s nice, isn’t it?” Nagito steals another kiss, “Just like that.”
Finally, Nagito draws back his hand, and Hajime’s eyes snap open, wincing at the bright light streaming in from outside. He’s still sitting in the same empty, dilapidated house they were exploring before, already desperately missing the world he made up in his head.
Nagito smiles softly, not seeming the least bit affected by what just transpired.
“What the hell was that, Nagito?”
“I was helping you use your imagination.”
“N-Not that, obviously! Why did you kiss me?”
“Did I?”
“What?!”
“Did I kiss you? I think I would remember that.”
Hajime shoots up from the chair, bristling, pointing an accusatory finger.
“You did. You did! I felt it!”
“The human memory is so unreliable, though!” Nagito laughs breezily, “If that’s what you want to imagine your life would be like with me, you’re more than welcome to!”
“Komaeda…” Hajime hisses, “Don’t gaslight me.”
“I would never, my beloved Hinata-Kun!” Nagito smiles with a flourish, “But if you ever want to play house with me again, just let me know, okay?”