Work Text:
And for now don't be afraid
If the sun never rises
There's a time to let it grow
There's a time to let it slow
And a time to let it go.
(Cocoon - Cathedral)
“How clumsy of me, my apologies!” Koushi exclaims when he stumbles and nearly spills his cup of fresh water over the short boy in front of him.
“No, no!” the other boy says quickly. “I should have watched out. I'm so embarrassed!”
They straighten up, each of them with a hand at the back of their heads, huffing out flustered laughs. Koushi's face burns and he can feel tears welling up from shame.
“I'm Koushi,” he introduces himself and bows slightly, like he has been taught. He might be clumsy, but at least he has manners.
“I'm Yaku,” the other boy tells him and smiles wide. “Are you my age? Are you new here?” Yaku asks and leans forward, his head tilting slightly like that of a curious cat. “And what were you doing with that much water all by yourself?”
Koushi's mood brightens when they sit in the grass together and pass the cup back and forth until it's empty. As it turns out, they are indeed the same age.
“We're from Lindon, but my parents decided to move here. Their friends live here,” Koushi tells Yaku.
“But why did you move? Why couldn't you stay in Lindon?”
“I don't know.”
“Hm,” Yaku seems to consider this for a while. “But that means you can be my friend, right? All the others are younger or older than me.” Yaku pouts but Koushi's face pulls into the widest smile at the suggestion.
“I'd like that,” Koushi beams, “very much.”
In winter, Yaku freezes. Terribly.
“It's because you're so short, your body doesn't retain heat very well,” Koushi tells him.
Yaku kicks him with an angry hiss. But he lets Koushi wrap his arms, and his blanket around him, until he stops shaking and falls asleep by the fire.
“Not as if I'm that much taller,” Koushi murmurs and joins him in his slumber.
“It might be hard to believe now,” Yaku lilts in imitation of his neighbour's voice “But you'll see, once the time comes there will be nothing sweeter than to woo a lady and have the interest returned.”
“ Akh ,” Koushi makes and scrunches up his face. “Oh and Yaku, sweet boy. There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he adds in the same mock sweet voice. “This is a perfectly normal way to feel for a young man your age.”
“ Geh ,” Yaku snorts when Koushi pats his shoulder.
They heave a sigh in unison and roll their eyes at each other. Koushi loses it first - he always does - and they land in the grass next to each other, laughing so hard that their stomachs hurt.
“Let them talk,” Koushi says and Yaku nods grimly.
And what else is there to be done about it? It's not their fault that the neighbours have funny ideas about what they should or should not put their minds to.
The summer they turn fifty marks the end of their growing years. They are not yet of age, but a new time has come, and they don't count as children any more either. Yaku gifts Koushi with a bow he has carved himself. When they go for a hunt together to test it out, Yaku's trap snaps into place and Koushi's arrow earns them a dinner with near perfect aim.
Afterwards, they bathe in the river, to rid their bodies of sweat and mud from the day's adventure.
“Let me,” Koushi says and reaches up to lift Yaku's tresses aside. His light brown hair has turned ashen blonde from the summer's bright sun, and there is dust clinging to the nape of his neck, right below his hairline.
“Oh,” Yaku makes and shivers when Koushi runs a wet cloth over his skin.
“Cold?”
Yaku swallows. “Y-yes,” he says, but doesn't meet Koushi's eyes.
“Glazier,” Koushi tells him when Yaku asks what type of training he will start.
“That figures.” Yaku snickers. “You've always liked pretty things.”
“Like you can talk,” Koushi counters and points at the necklace and wristbands Yaku wears, adorned with colourful beads.
Yaku turns red as a berry and they both start laughing.
“What about you then?” Koushi asks after a while.
“Something less fragile.” Excitement burns bright in Yaku’s eyes when he says, “Carpenter.”
It's Koushi's turn to deal with flushed cheeks. Yaku reaches across the table for a biscuit and Koushi's gaze follows the delicate shift of muscle as Yaku turns his wrist. Koushi tries very hard not to think about how the muscles in Yaku's arms might jump and bulge when he works with wood and heavy tools.
And he fails gloriously.
In early winter, a baby boy is born to the closest friends of Koushi's parents. He is named Tadashi and his cheeks are kissed with stars.
Yaku nearly suffocates from laughter when his neighbour starts speculating whether it will be Yaku or Koushi who first marry and start a family of their own.
Koushi pats his back deftly and he finds that he doesn't quite care about whoever's views. Yaku has his face buried into Koushi's shoulder and upper back and his breathing slows until it is nothing more than a faint tickle against the side of Koushi's neck.
Yaku's breath feels warm. It raises goose bumps on Koushi's skin. And for the first time Koushi wonders what exactly he finds so ridiculous about the constant suggestions of Yaku's neighbour.
The beginning of Yaku's training is hard on him and he often ends up exhausted in Koushi's room. It's a small chamber right under the roof, with a window through which they watch the stars at night.
They have always been doing that, as long as they've known each other, stayed there until late at night. And more than once Yaku had fallen asleep on Koushi's bed, curled up against his side like a cat seeking warmth.
It is no different now that they are older.
“Hold still,” Koushi says tersely as he spreads a chalky paste across Yaku's sprained wrist. “I know it hurts, but if you don't want the healer's scolding you'll have to endure this.”
Yaku hisses and grits his teeth. But then he relaxes and allows Koushi to wrap a tight bandage around the delicate joint.
“Thank you,” he heaves when it is done and accepts the tea Koushi pushes into his other hand.
They are silent for a while. Eventually, their cups are empty and they sink back into the cushions of Koushi's bed and Yaku cradles his hand against his chest.
“Wanna tell me what happened this time?” Koushi asks into the darkness. “You don't usually get hurt without a reason.”
“I slipped and got the saw's handle pushed into my wrist on the backstroke.”
“Yes, but... why?”
Yaku sighs. “The older apprentice was teasing me.”
Koushi rolls to his side. He can barely make out his friend's silhouette in the dark room, but he sees enough to spot a tear glittering at the corner of Yaku's eye. Yaku blinks it away angrily.
“They are all insane,” Yaku whispers. “Obsessed with the idea that I need to show interest in some maiden or the other.”
Koushi says nothing, only reaches up to wipe away the moisture from Yaku's lashes. And Yaku allows it, doesn't pull away as he would if they weren't in the safe confines of Koushi's room. It is easier for him to be comforted when it's just the two of them, when Koushi cannot clearly see his face.
A long time passes like this, with Koushi's fingers gently stroking over Yaku's face and Yaku leaning into the touch. His breathing evens out and Koushi thinks he's fallen asleep so he pulls his hand back but --
“Koushi?”
“Yes?”
“I'm not,” Yaku whispers, “interested. In maidens. Not in that way.”
“I know,” Koushi replies and, “neither am I.” It is so easy to admit when it's only Yaku who can hear him. “Sleep now.”
“Yeah,” Yaku mumbles. “Sleep sounds good.”
The next day they don't speak about what happened. There seems no need to.
Maybe, Koushi thinks, it hadn't been a big revelation to either of them.
Winter Solstice is the only day of winter when Yaku doesn't freeze.
They dance around the bonfire, laughing and singing, happy as they can be. As far up north as they live the winters are hard and long; they will gladly take any reason to celebrate and share warmth.
“One more?” Yaku asks excitedly and waves a full cup of spiced wine before Koushi's face, gestures large and rocky from his own intoxication.
Koushi giggles weakly and reaches out. “Whoops,” he makes as he sways and covers Yaku's hands with his own. They are still both clutching the cup when Koushi lifts it to his lips to drink.
The wine is sweet and hot and burns his mouth, but Koushi doesn't care. Yaku's fingers twitch slightly, and it seems only natural to push the cup his way next, to let him have a share of the drink.
Everything is blurry and Koushi can only focus on Yaku's eyes, how his lashes cast spidery shadows over his cheeks when he lets his eyelids flutter shut. There is a drop of wine clinging to his upper lip when he lowers the cup.
It's enticing.
“Mmh,” Yaku murmurs happily, and when he opens his eyes again he's suddenly very close. When did that happen? It matters not.
Yaku's tongue slides out to lick away the excess wine and –
Oh no, Koushi thinks faintly, and he can't help it when he leans in, closer and closer until –
“Oh-” Yaku makes and then their lips meet.
Yaku's mouth is soft and tastes of wine. He giggles. Koushi pushes forward in a daring and exhilarating rush, and he doesn't even know what's happening or why, he only knows that right now it seems like the best idea.
Then Yaku lets out a hiccuping breath and pulls back without a warning. And the next thing Koushi knows is a wetness clinging to the front of his tunic and the sickeningly sour smell of wine mixed with vomit.
“Yaku, are you--!”
Yaku retches again and this time he manages to turn away and the remaining contents of his stomach hit the ground.
Well, crap, is all Koushi can think as he sinks down next to Yaku and pats his back and holds his hair away from his sweaty forehead. Crap.
They are in the middle of apologising profusely to each other when Koushi can't help but burst out laughing.
“What in the Void! Don't make fun of me!” Yaku protests and kicks at him. Koushi jumps to avoid his friend's foot. He's known him too long not to.
“I'm not, I'm not,” Koushi says as he still laughs. “I was only thinking that this is how we met. With apologies for things that were neither of our fault.”
Yaku lets out a frustrated groan and covers his face with his hands. “Koushi, I... I kissed you. And then, to add insult to injury I even-- Ugh. How is any of that not my fault?”
Koushi freezes in place. “You...?” He swallows. “Yaku, it was I who first... I mean. I didn't even ask if--”
“We're both idiots.”
Koushi grins sheepishly. “At least your neighbour has something real to worry about now.”
That makes Yaku laugh. “Let them talk,” he echoes their conclusion from long years ago.
But there is something important, something Koushi feels like he should say. “I'm not in love with you,” he blurts out before he can stop himself.
Yaku laughs even louder. “I know,” he says and rolls his eyes.
“Oh,” Koushi makes. “Good.” And then, “I needed to make sure.”
“You're my friend, Koushi,” Yaku says, suddenly earnest. “A drunken kiss isn't enough to change that.”
“Good,” Koushi says again and is surprised at how relieved he is. “Perhaps, it was still a bad idea.”
“Yes, perhaps.”
“Let's not, again.”
“No,” Yaku agrees, and the look in his eyes is bright and intense when he rests them on Koushi. “Let's not.”
In the end it doesn't really matter what they agreed on. Not when Yaku is this close, curled up against his side, and Koushi is sleepy and pliable and happily sinking into his cushions after a long day of work.
Koushi's body seems to have a mind of its own, there is no other explanation for the way his fingers find their way into Yaku's hair, or the way he leans in when Yaku presses his lips against Koushi's collarbone, the side of his neck, his jaw.
“Yaku?” he manages to whisper.
“Hm?” Yaku makes and it sounds endearingly sleepy.
“I'm still not in love with you.”
Yaku chuckles softly. “Good. Neither am I.”
“Okay.”
Yaku returns to nuzzling Koushi's neck and it sends a delicious shiver down his spine.
“Is this alright?”
“Yeah,” Koushi breathes and tightens his fingers in Yaku's hair.
But Yaku pulls back at that. “When we're not... in love,” he begins slowly. “Then what are we?”
Koushi shrugs. “Friends, I suppose.”
Yaku seems to contemplate this. “That sounds... complicated.”
“It doesn't have to be complicated if we don't make it so.”
“Then let's not,” whispers Yaku and clumsily slots their mouths together in the dark, and Koushi thinks faintly that this is even better than drunken kisses.
It really shouldn't be. At least not according to Yaku's neighbour.
But then again, how can something be wrong if it feels this good? Koushi wonders and decides to stop thinking altogether when he pushes his tongue past Yaku's lips and is rewarded with the sweetest sigh.
In summer they are out there again to hunt together. They work as always, Yaku sets up traps and Koushi shoots. It's still the same bow he uses, and he refuses to use any other.
Koushi laughs and splashes water at his friend when they wash. The sun is beginning to set and there is a deep gold and pink playing in Yaku's hair when he grins up at Koushi. The water is shallow where they stand, it encloses Koushi's hip and draws a shimmering line just above Yaku's navel.
There are drops clinging to Yaku's nose and Koushi, still laughing, reaches up to swipe them away with his fingertips.
Yaku catches his wrist and pulls him in. There is a sly grin on his face and the next moment he has tucked Koushi down for a kiss.
“Hmpf,” Koushi makes and giggles but it turns into a small gasp as Yaku's lips work him open and their tongues slide against each other.
Yaku presses against him eagerly and Koushi puts his hands on either side of his waist to pull him closer. Their chests brush, and oh, this is new. Usually, when they've kissed, there have been layers of clothes separating them. This is softer. Better.
And Yaku's training has done wonderful things to his arms. Koushi runs his hands over them, across his shoulders, down his back, and he can feel every shift of Yaku's muscles against him. He's suddenly feeling very warm and all he wants is to feel even warmer.
Yaku's breath is coming in starts and Koushi realises that he himself is in no better condition. He lets his lips wander along the line of Yaku's jaw, tastes the softness of his neck. Yaku does nothing but tighten his fist in Koushi's hair and then he lets out a shuddering breath against his ear. His voice clings to it in a faint moan and the sound runs down as shivering heat across Koushi's back.
Koushi pulls back and Yaku looks at him with large eyes. With both of them naked there is nothing to hide.
“You're hard,” Koushi says bluntly.
“Likewise,” Yaku counters and it sounds like a challenge.
“Oh no, what would your neighbour say,” Koushi smirks, and suddenly the world flips because Yaku has fallen from laughter and pulled Koushi with him, losing his balance on the slippery stones of the river ground.
They splash around without grace and struggle to get their heads above the water's surface.
Worth it , is all that Koushi can think, even long after when they are dry again and on their way back home.
It could have been avoided, probably, Koushi thinks later, when he’s shivering and shaking in front of the fire and feels as if he’ll never be warm again in his life.
“Now you know what every winter is like for me,” Yaku says and it doesn’t help at all.
“T-that’s d-d-diff-- ‘rent,” Koushi manages between clattering teeth.
Yaku rolls his eyes at him and starts to pull Koushi’s dripping clothes off him. “Things to not repeat: Falling into the river in late autumn.”
Koushi coughs out an annoyed groan. “I w-was wa-washing m-my t-tools,” he defends helplessly and his hands are shaking so bad from the cold that he can do nothing but let Yaku deal with his clingy mess of shirts and trousers.
“Still,” Yaku insists, “You should have gone home instead of looking for me. It’s already dark outside. What were you thinking, Koushi?”
Truth be told, Koushi hadn’t been thinking. He only knew that he didn’t want to be scolded by his parents so he had done the first thing that came to his mind. And that was to go to Yaku. But now the cold was getting to him, and everything hurt, and beneath the shaking and shivering breaths he feels hot tears spill down his cheeks.
“Hush,” Yaku coos and wraps a blanket around Koushi’s now bare shoulders. “I’ll help you warm up.”
Koushi shudders out half a laugh at his friend’s determination. But Yaku is already guiding him to his bed, and blessed be Yaku’s ever freezing toes, he has the softest and warmest blankets there.
“Careful, slanted ceiling,” Yaku warns as if this is the first time Koushi is here.
Koushi ducks down to crawl into the cozy space made of softness and Yaku’s scent. He already feels a little less terrible about his mishap. He turns then and is about to thank Yaku when--
“W-what are you-- Ya-yaku?”
Yaku’s cheeks flush brightly but he doesn’t stop stripping down. “Scoot over,” he huffs out when he’s completely bare and slips under the covers where Koushi is nestled. “You’ll warm up quicker like this. Skin transfers heat more easily without a barrier of clothe-- Argh! Koushi!”
Yaku lets out a high pitched shriek when Koushi pushes his feet against Yaku’s calves and presses his cold nose against the curve of his neck.
“Warm,” Koushi sighs happily and notices how Yaku has to control his temper. It makes Koushi chuckle. For someone so small his friend can lose his patience quite spectacularly.
But Yaku remains calm now, only pulls the blankets tighter around them and after a while spent in silence, the space between them heating up slowly, Koushi stops shaking and shivering.
“Better?” Yaku asks quietly.
“Better,” Koushi murmurs in agreement and presses his lips against Yaku’s shoulder as he holds on to him. “Thank you.”
Yaku says nothing but he tilts his head just enough for their mouths to fit together, lips and tongues caressing each other lazily until there is a new kind of heat spreading within Koushi.
“Warm?” Yaku breathes out and trails his fingers down Koushi’s side to his hip. Koushi lets himself be pushed back onto the pillows. He knots his fingers into Yaku’s hair as he follows without pause, leaning over Koushi.
“Warm,” Koushi hums back, knees sliding apart easily to fit on either side of his friend’s waist as they resume kissing in the safety and warmth of Yaku’s bed, separated by nothing but their bodies’ heat.
This feels more intimate than their usual kissing. It feels more altogether. Koushi faintly wonders if that should concern him. But today hasn’t been a day of great thinking, and he’s not about to start thinking now.
Instead he tugs at Yaku’s hair to gain access to his neck. He wants warmth, he wants to hear Yaku’s breath come in starts again. He wants to hear his voice shake with repressed need. And Koushi gets all that when he suckles at Yaku’s skin and bites down where neck meets collarbone.
“Koushi,” Yaku hisses out and there is a new fervour in his kiss as he licks across Koushi’s lips and into his mouth. Koushi lets his head fall back and shuts his eyes. Everything is warm and comfortable and it feels safe to be here with Yaku, to be this close.
“This… alright?” Koushi mumbles between kisses and lets his hands wander down Yaku’s back to tug him even closer against himself. Yaku’s hips jerk reflexively and he nods, and then they don’t speak anymore.
It’s all shaky breaths, hands sliding across heated skin. Neither of them know what they’re doing but that’s not the point anyway. It’s curious and glancing, and their bodies are moving together as if on instinct, seeking out waves of pleasure between them, sliding and grinding against one another eagerly to find out what feels best.
Koushi keeps his eyes closed, doesn’t want to see anything, only feel and feel and feel . Yaku lets out a whimper and his head drops onto Koushi’s shoulder.
“Too much?”
But Yaku shakes his head, breath rushing past parted lips. He is so close, so impossibly close, pressed against Koushi everywhere, smearing his lips all over the skin of Koushi’s neck and --
“ More, ” Yaku sighs right into Koushi’s ear and everything in Koushi tightens at the sound and before he knows it he cries out against Yaku’s shoulder as he falls, floating in blissful heat, surrounded by the echo of his own heartbeat.
Yaku’s hips give another rough jerk and then he’s shuddering against Koushi, gripping his sides tightly, before he collapses onto his chest.
“Eww,” Yaku murmurs. “What a mess.”
“Mmh,” Koushi makes, eyes still shut, “Warm.”
Yaku groans weakly, and Koushi giggles, but whatever protest Yaku has in mind isn’t enough to get him to move.
“Sleep now?”
Yaku hums an agreement, and then there’s only breaths and heartbeats and they both drift off.
The years go by.
Yaku still gets all riled up about his neighbour's opinions. Koushi still laughs and kisses him until they are both breathless.
“Do you think it’s true what they say?” Koushi asks one night. “That there is a war coming?”
Yaku shrugs. “I suppose so.” And then, “I guess we couldn’t change it either way.”
“Hm,” Koushi makes. “You’re probably right.”
“Are you scared?” Yaku asks, and it’s not in mockery but in sympathy.
“Yes.”
Yaku nods. “Me too. But,” he says then, and there is brightness in his eyes. “I won’t run. If I need to fight then I will, to protect what matters to me.”
That comforts Koushi somehow. He relies on Yaku. As long as Yaku doesn’t run then it will all be all right somehow. He reaches out and laces his fingers between Yaku’s.
“I’m glad you’re my friend,” Yaku tells him and Koushi chides him for being sentimental.
They laugh together, as they always have. Yaku’s lips are on Koushi’s and it’s enough to chase away the dread and fear.
Somewhere, far back in his mind, Koushi wonders if he could get himself to be interested in maidens if only kissing Yaku didn't feel so good. He thinks probably not.
The first harbinger of war hits them all sooner than expected.
Yaku is there when it happens. Yaku sees the desolate look on Koushi's face as nobody else does.
“You are going to be an amazing brother, the best brother anyone could wish for,” he whispers to Koushi as he holds him close. “Your parents are going to be so proud of you.”
But Koushi's parents are devastated and Koushi thinks there are more important matters on their minds. Their best friends have died, been torn from this world brutally and left their small boy behind. They have been like aunt and uncle to Koushi. They were family.
“Tadashi will love you,” Yaku tells him and rubs a circle between Koushi's shoulder blades.
None of it brings them back. And Koushi lets himself fall apart. He lets the sobs wreck his chest, lets his tears spill onto Yaku's tunic, and somehow it dulls the pain.
Koushi doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up the next morning, Yaku is still there, quiet and solid as he had always been.
Neither of them say it, but the day marks a new beginning, new responsibilities. Yaku remains true about one thing though – Tadashi does grow to love Koushi as his brother, purely and deeply, and the feeling is mutual.
It happens less and less and at some point they don't kiss any more, and they don't talk about it again. There is no need to, there is nothing unresolved between them. Koushi loves how easy it has always been between them. He is glad it has been Yaku with whom all of it had happened; not because it never meant anything, but because it was special in its own way - safe and full of trust, secrets discovered with his best friend.
And that's what they are after all - friends, best friends, have never been anything else. And Yaku's neighbour doesn't need to know the details.