Chapter Text
The funny thing about falling in love, and, I’m sure, you’ve likely heard this often enough, is that you don’t know when it starts — at least, not exactly. Maybe you spy them at the bar; the way their thumb slides across the rim of their drink and how their smile carries that odd, telltale of sadness, attracts you to them. The next thing you know you’ve been looking at that smile for five years.
The process was gradual, quite literally invisible, but nonetheless was happening .
From sexual attraction to love. I guess in that sense the equation’s pretty simple.
But what if, like Matsuoka Rin, you’ve known a smile (or in his case, more often than not, a frown ) for almost a decade, and it’s only recently that you notice how his Adam’s apple looks inviting to the lips and how his scent isn’t something you’d mind lingering in your room for longer? In fact, you start to welcome it. No, not even that, you yearn for it.
Rin thinks that this is a problem. He knows what this means; he’s not stupid. Rin has fallen completely and hopelessly in love with his best friend. (The head-over-heels kind where he wants to sit and do nothing with him all day, but also wants to be pushed against the wall and be devoured. Rin’s got it bad.) If you knew Yamazaki Sousuke, you’d understand the predicament.
One: Sousuke can be a real pain in the ass. Not just because he’s so fucking stubborn (the shoulder incident, for example) but because he also knows how to get into Rin’s nerves. He pushes those damn buttons like a pro, and Rin has no idea why he fell for something so stupid. Two: that guy legitimately has no romantic bone in his body. Can Sousuke even fall in love? Last week, he turned down a girl who confessed to him with a simple no, thanks. I’m not interested. Who does that bastard think he is? Just because he’s got god-like abs and a smile that probably causes holy angels to sin and fall (maybe this is the reason why he doesn’t do it often) doesn’t mean he has the right to just walk away without a mindful rejection or even a simple explanation.
And so, three: what if he does the same thing to Rin? Really, that’s what Rin is nervous about. It’s Sousuke’s blunt nature that makes him one of the most honest people Rin knows, and if he hasn’t ever admitted aloud he likes Rin romantically, then there’s close to no possibility that he actually does. That scares the hell out of Rin. He doesn’t want to confess and be another one of those people who weren’t even important enough for a little justification. He doesn't think he can handle being abandoned on the side of the road like that.
It’s then, sitting at Nanase Haruka’s living room that Rin has a brilliant idea.
“I’m going to fucking seduce the guy,” he audibly decides, placing his cola down on the kotatsu. He’d pretty much stopped drinking the stuff since middle school, but today he couldn’t help but indulge in a second can. Haru blinks, bleeding disinterest, but there’s also a hint of curiosity there, Rin can tell — or maybe it’s concern? The blue eyes switch focus.
“Makoto, do something.”
An abrupt, nervous laugh comes from the boy beside him. Even though it’s clear Makoto’s uncomfortable with Rin’s bluntness, Rin doesn’t try to mediate it. He simply sneers in response, quite proud he can say such things without looking pathetic. In fact, he probably looks damn cool. He fiddles with the metal tab of his soda can.
“Wow, Rin, that’s uh . . . ambitious. Do you really think that’s the best way to go? Shouldn’t you just be honest with Yamazaki-kun and tell him how you feel?”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Rin scoffs. “You and Haru can practically read each other like an open book. With Sousuke . . .” The words drift off as plants his elbows in the table and digs his hands in his hair. The pride he has tapers a little. “I mean, I know I know him better than anyone, but sometimes he’s just so hard to get. Maybe if I can get him just the least bit flustered, I could tell if he’s into me or not.”
“Anyone would be embarrassed red if you start shoving your ass at them.” Kisumi says.
“Why are you even here?”
“I heard something juicy.”
Rin shoots Nagisa a look.
“Don’t look at me, Rin-chan,” Nagisa mumbles around the straw of his drink. He innocently goes back to sipping it, raising his blond eyebrows accusingly at the person next to him in the process.
“ Rei? ”
“I thought Kisumi would have an expertise at love—”
“Which I do,” the love-expert interrupts.
“And he knows the dynamic between you two better than anyone else at this table, so I thought he would be able to help.” Rei adjusts his red frames. The blame game continues. “ Clearly, I was wrong.”
Kisumi flicks his hands up in defense. “Hey now, I haven’t finished giving my piece of advice.
First of all, seduction , great idea if your target was Makoto over here who’d probably unhinge at a little show of skin, but this is Sousuke we’re talking about. That guy’s as dense as a brick.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Makoto says, defensively.
Kisumi leans in towards Makoto, hooking a finger around the collar of his shirt. “Oh, really? ” Haru shoves himself in between Kisumi and his boyfriend without a word.
“Nice going, Rei,” he finally offers.
“Wow. You guys are help.” The kotatsu looks like a great place to lie down and die.
Nagisa sets his drink next to Rin's cola. “Honestly, Rin-chan, I believe Mako-chan’s right,” he volunteers. “You should just be honest with him. Why does it matter if you know if he likes you or not beforehand? You’re going to find out eventually.”
“Because, Nagisa, I’m not going to confess if I know he doesn’t feel the same way.”
“Why not?”
“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”
“Yes.” The room insists in unison. The different sets of eyes all fall on him for an explanation. (Well, minus Haru’s, who’s still burning a hole into Kisumi’s profile). Light seeps through the translucent paper windows. The cracks in the wooden walls and his friends’ faces are slowly painted in warm colors, and Rin can tell that the sun is setting behind him. Sousuke would be home soon.
“There’s no point in telling him if he doesn’t like me, right? It would only ruin our friendship.”
They stare at him blankly, unconvinced.
“He’s my best friend,” Rin reminds them. “I can’t just go and ruin that on some gamble that he might like me back, because if he doesn’t, then . . . then, what would we be?”
“You can stay as friends.”
“That’s —” That’s impossible, because Rin’s too far gone. He’s in love with Sousuke — so, so in love. He wants those damn arms wrapped around him, wants his dark hair entangled in his fingers, and his annoying, permanent scowl to smile for him. So either way, whether Sousuke knows it or not, Rin wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way. Maybe it’s worth a spiteful rejection.
“You’re right.” He lifts his eyes to Makoto, to Nagisa, to everyone in Haru’s tiny, illuminated living room. “I have to tell Sousuke how I feel. No fucking around the bush.”
“Doing it out in public isn’t so bad once in awhile,” Kisumi casually notes. Fixing his palms on the matted floor, he leans back looking satisfied. “Nice. Then, I’d say this convention was a success.”
This time, it’s Rin who glares at him. “Why are you here, again?”
Kisumi grins, his purple eyes always so carefully carrying that signature glimmer of mischief.
“I’m an expert at love, Love.”
The funny thing about being in love — you know, you’ve heard this before — is that it makes a person blind.
It makes a person irrational.
It makes a person, in the middle of the night, rummage through the drawer of their best friend’s clothing, unsteady hands pull at each loose sleeve, and leave all but one button detached. It’s like there’s a million tiny soldiers banging the ends of their guns against his chest. He sits on the bottom bunk and waits for the doorknob to turn.
Like hell, Rin was going to confess.