#limerence au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kooktrash · 7 months

Text

LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedal edel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine e @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun n @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook fic #Jungkook oneshot #Jungkook one shot #Jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts jungkook

2K notes · View notes

petalsofyouth · 9 months

Text

limerence; and it goes both ways | ran haitani x reader

tw: unestablished relationship, smoking, mentions of usage of weed, sexual activity (it's not really detailed, but it is, haha) /i think that's it, but i probably missed something as i usually do, so please do tell me if you think i forgot something/

wc: 28 128

author's note: ran was supposed to be extremely toxic in this, but he isn't. we'll meet the version of ran i initially intend in another story. oh, and they all are in universities, so it's uni au, no usual gangs activities.

Aoki Ogura is perfect, or so Ran thinks.

She says her first name is spelled with kanji that mean 'a little love,' and her last name means 'tiny' and 'blue.' She giggles as she says it, staring with her beautiful eyes at Ran. She might like him, and he might like her too.

Or even more.

Ran thinks he is in love with the girl in front of him, and it doesn't really matter that he has only seen her twice in his life: once when Rindou was picking him up from rehearsals for dinner and Ran happened to tag along, and today, for the second time, at someone's party in Kamakura.

He doesn't dare to say it aloud yet, but he already calls it fate. Ran is quick to assume.

He chats up this pretty, perfect girl, leaning down to her so she can hear him over 'Cherry Girl' by Black Cherry, which is playing too loudly for Ran's taste. But today he won't complain and whine about it as he usually would've, because this works exactly in his favor, creating the much-desired proximity between his body and Aoki's. They are really really close.

Her body is nice too. She's wearing a white summer dress that hugs her shoulders and waist so tightly that Ran doesn't need much imagination to have her undressed before him. Besides, he knows that Aoki is a dance major. A nice body is a given. He has hooked up with girls from the dance department before. He has never been disappointed once.

Right now, though, he feels like the happiest person at this party in the house that is too small for so many people. His chest is burning, and a smile blooms by itself. Aoki is telling him about her white cat, and Ran, who has never before been very enthusiastic about animals, nods at her, agreeing that cats are the best pets to have.

By the end of their conversation, Ran forgets that he always wanted to have a dog and that his favorite color was never blue, but white and purple.

ii.

Rindou doesn't share his brother's enthusiasm about Aoki.

He doesn't think she's cute, beautiful, or even talented. He has spoken to her before numerous times, and the only thing he remembers is the deep irritation he felt as she spoke in that high-pitched voice of hers that every J-idol claims to have. If she weren't your friend - of a sort - he would never entertain her with his company.

But you are classmates, and you are Rindou's best friend, and he loves you too much to ruin your somewhat good relationship with Aoki.

So when he spots his brother's face with the softest expression he has ever had while he talks to Aoki, Rindou is beyond disgusted. Blame it on alcohol or real physical disturbance from the unfolding scene, but Rindou gets nauseous and, closing his mouth with his hand, retreats to the back of the house in the direction of the beach. All the toilets are occupied anyway.

It's not long after he is done, and the rusty taste fills his mouth, that you appear with a bottle of sparkling water and mints in the pocket of your leather pants. He can see the outline of the box there, and he shoots you a half-smile, knowing well that you stole those from the cupboard in the hall of Ryou's house.

"Are you good?" you ask, squatting down near him. You pass him a bottle of water and watch him as he drinks it to the end.

"Yeah. I am okay," he hums appreciatively and takes a candy from the box. They aren't minty. They are strawberry flavoured. He likes these. "Thank you. You are a real-life angel."

You don't reply. Just nod at him and peer in front of you at the vast darkness where the sea and the sky are one black hole; your eyes are the same.

The music from the house is distant, and it feels as if you and Rindou are somewhere far away from this place, only the two of you in your own little world where no one and nothing can touch you. However, this is not true, and Ran is the one to prove it. If there's someone more worthy of this role for shattering illusions than Ran, Rindou doesn't know them yet.

"I've told you not to mix weed and alcohol," Ran sighs, standing behind you both. He doesn't sit down or come closer, and yet his presence is suffocating.

You turn your head, disappointment written all over your face, and Rindou wonders why it is that you are disappointed. Is it because instead of words of consolation, Ran is quick to assume? Or maybe because you just don't want him here? Or perhaps it's for your own reason that you hide deep in your chest, unknown to him?

You and Ran aren't really friends, but you aren't on bad terms either, nor could your relationship be called neutral. It is whatever it is - the mess, the chaos, and the calm understanding.

"We weren't smoking, Ran." Your lower lip quivers, and your eyes are squinted. Finally, you are disgusted with him, but out of habit, you call him by his name. There's something Rindou knows you won't admit, but you like Ran's name a lot. Otherwise, why would you say it so often? "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be entertaining your bimbos?"

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your red-haired celebrity?" Ran shoots back, taking a step closer in your direction, and if he wants to be intimidating, it doesn't work on you.

"First of all, Haru's hair is pink. Secondly, he isn't even here. And lastly, are you colourblind, by any chance, Ran? That would explain this atrocious outfit…"

The sentence is never finished because Ran yanks you by the elbow and pinches your arm. Hard. You yelp and barely stand on your wobbly legs that hurt from squatting for too long. Ran steadies you, helping you not to fall down on your ass as he holds each of your arms in his hands. Your eyes meet. Yours furious and his calm but curious.

You open your mouth to say something, probably unpleasant, but Rindou cuts in. "Stop pinching her."

"Okay. I am sorry." Ran still holds you by your arms, his hands warming your cold skin where he touches you. When you scoff and attempt to break free, he doesn't let go. He tugs you closer. "I really am. See."

Fatigue from emptying his stomach only a few minutes earlier returns when Rindou stands up. His vision goes blurry for a second. The world spins around him, and the music and you and Ran are a beautiful smudged carousel. He grounds himself, breathing in and out. In and out. More than anything, he doesn't want to puke again.

But when the world clears, and he sees Ran rubbing soothing gentle circles on the place on your arm where he pinched you, he wishes he puked. It's even worse looking at him being tender with you than dumbstruck by Aoki. With you, it's gut-wrenching.

"You know, Ran, I prefer it more when you are rude to me than whatever this was," you exclaim, but if you were angry before, you aren't now. You break free from him and come to Rindou's side. You take a good look at his face and cupping it, brush long blonde hair away from his eyes, spreading them all the way to the back of his head. "Do you want to go eat something? Maybe ramen? Hm? No. Actually, you should eat ochazuke now, and then we'll get you that vitamin thing from 7-Eleven. Okay? So you won't have a hangover tomorrow."

Rindou is not that drunk. He only had two cans of beer and a shot of vodka. But he doesn't argue with you. After all, he is used to you babying him from time to time. He hated it at first, but hate is nothing more than love that you can't untangle just yet. He nods at you and steals a box of strawberry candies from your pocket, popping one into his mouth. They are indeed nice.

As you leave the party, your arms linked, Ran follows behind you both. He wasn't invited to your little late dinner or early breakfast, but he assumes he is coming because he is the one with the car.

Well, if anything, Ran is quick to assume. iii.

Inside the diner, it's warm, and the air is rich with the smell of delicious food.

You sit beside Rindou on red cushions and watch him eat ochazuke with unagi and nori. Ran is sitting across from you, his plate of shoyu ramen untouched. He's waiting for it to cool down a bit. He claims that hot food never sits well in his stomach. For one reason or another, you don't believe it's true; it's probably another white lie.

In your opinion, Ran is woven with lies—innocent and not. As long as those lies don't harm you, you're fine with them.

The diner you're in is the usual one you always stop by after Ryou's parties. It's small, cheap, and the food is always fresh and tasty. It's in Kanagawa, near Shirahataike Park. If Ran weren't with you and Rindou didn't throw up earlier, you would've asked Rindou to go there and lie down on the grass near the pond, maybe smoke one or two of your specially reserved "Seven Stars" until dawn found you there and it got too cold. He, of course, would have agreed. He always does. It's more of a habit now. A little custom that's only yours.

Out of the blue, Ran asks, "On what days does the dance department practice?"

With a spoon between your lips, you frown. You shoot a quick glance at Rindou and catch how quickly his eyes harden, his mouth becoming a thin line. Oh, so Rindou knows the reason for the question, and while you might not, you have your suspicions.

"So? Who's your next victim, Ran?" you ask and put the spoon down in the bowl with the thick brown broth. You and Ran ordered the same.

"Why victim?" His eyes widen in surprise, and he looks quite comical.

You tilt your head to the side and laugh. Rindou near you is smiling too, but for a different reason than you suppose. "Just tell me who you want to hook up with, and maybe I'll give you her number."

"Actually, you know what? I can just ask myself."

"You sure can," you reply, shrugging your shoulders and in the next minute, you forget all about Ran's question as you turn to Rindou and ask him if he finished that music assignment he was working on. You say that today you talked to Ryou, and he had almost finished his.

The conversation between you and Rindou flows as effortlessly as ever. You discuss your classes, assignments, and even gossip about your mutual friends and people you don't even know the names of. You laugh a lot, and a couple of times, you get too serious, needing a pause before picking up the conversation again. You enjoy these two hours spent at the diner more than you enjoyed the party itself.

When the sky is flushed with pink and blue, you decide to call it a night. Rindou excuses himself to the restroom, and you find yourself with Ran standing on the porch of the ramen shop. It's raining a little, but the air is fresh, smelling of grass and soil. It smells like new beginnings and the meaning of life. You catch yourself thinking that for the first time in a long while, you're truly happy.

Sometimes, life is worth it all.

"Do you like the color blue?"

"What?" You stop swaying on your tiptoes and tuck your hands into the pockets of your jacket. It's mid-April, but still a bit chilly. "Do I like the color blue?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Depends on the shade of blue. It can be the happiest or the saddest color in the world. I need to know which shade of blue you mean, Ran." You contemplate it for a moment and then shake your head, quickly adding, "No. I don't think I actually like any color at all. Maybe just white and black."

"Aren't those two colors too?"

Your lips curve into a smile, and you look down at your tabi boots, thrifted from a vintage shop in Nakano. The shop owner told you, it once was his wife’s boots and she got them in Belgium in 1994. It was her favourite pair of shoes, but she died recently and he can’t bring himself to keep them around. He said that he wanted these stupid tabi boots to continue living on and bring happiness to other people even if his own wife was beyond the point of any human emotion.

"No, they aren't, really," you whisper, more to yourself than to Ran. "It's the absence of color that I like. It's like none of them exist."

The rain continues to pour until the afternoon, and then it suddenly stops, as if it was never there.

iv.

Ran had never longed for a girl before.

The feeling is new, and it is unpleasant. He doesn't understand why he keeps thinking about her and why he wants to hear her voice again. The fact that he couldn't remember what they were talking about at the party doesn't matter. Ran never remembers conversations he had with girls. He only remembers Aoki's plump, pink lips and her sweet, pretty eyes.

He needs to see her now. Today.

But unfortunately for him, he doesn't study at your university, and tagging along with Rindou to pick you up after your classes might be suspicious. Besides, Aoki might not even be there.

He doesn't want to ask you about Aoki either. It's stupid, really. He has asked you about multiple girls from your class before, but right now, he feels that asking about precious Aoki might spoil everything. Ran wants everything to be perfect because he thinks he was in love.

Having you as a connection to Aoki is like having no connection at all.

So, he tries the only remedy he knows—sex. And when that only blows off steam for a couple of days, a week at best, he does something he has never done before: he studies.

That's how you found him one day as you stop by their apartment to pick Rindou up so you can have your lunch together. Ran guesses he looks ridiculous in his grey sweatpants and old, loose T-shirt, surrounded by piles of books and handouts. Otherwise, why would you smile at him?

"Didn't know you were such a fan of studying, Ran," you say, dragging his name out and he rolls his eyes at you. If you want to mock him, you need to try harder. "Why don't you join us for lunch? Have you eaten already?"

"Not interested," he replies, not tearing his eyes away from the handouts with case-study before him.

"Oh, really? Too bad. I thought you might want to see Aoki Ogura again."

As Ran lifts his eyes to take a look at your face, to see if you were being serious or messing with him, you aren't there anymore. He catches a glimpse of your back disappearing through Rindou's door and hears his brother cursing at you for scaring him.

You close the door as you get in.

Of course, Ran tails for the lunch with you, and of course, it annoys Rindou.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy hanging out with his brother—he pretty much does, and yet, he prefers having his own circle of friends to himself. You and Haruchiyo were his sacred zone. Only his to enjoy and spend time together with.

With Ran and Aiko and Aiko’s new boyfriend Takeshi, lunch gets awkward. Not because Ran is upset or mad or anything of the sort, but because Aoki gets flustered when she sees Ran and despite bragging to you before that she is so in love with Takeshi - you have told that to Rindou over another lunch on another Sunday - she sits between you and Haruchiyo, leaving Rindou to sit next to her stupid boyfriend.

"How did you two get together?" Ran asks Aoki, his voice dripping with sweetness. He chews on a yellow plastic straw that smells of fresh orange juice. "The last time we saw each other, you were single, or am I wrong?"

Aoki giggles, and her doll-like face turns pink. "We met at the party a week after Ryou's. I thought you would have come. That's why I went."

"Me?" Ran raises his eyebrows and takes a big sip of juice from the glass, ignoring the forgotten straw on the marble table. "Why would I?"

"Probably because I was invited, but I didn't end up going. I heard that party was a huge flop. What happened?" Already tired of the meaningless and obviously flirtatious exchange, Rindou cuts in, shifting Aoki's attention from Ran to him.

The girl sighs and, before replying, cuts a small piece of her vanilla cheesecake and puts it in her mouth, chewing. Pretentious little bitch. "You probably don't know them, but Shota from the second-year oil painting class got into a fight with Rintaro from the first-year dance class. They say Shota's girl cheated on him. Wasn't much of a fight, though."

"Bullshit. I know Rintaro pretty well, and he never laid a finger on that girl."

"Oh, really? I heard they made a tape with her."

"Like a sex tape?"

"Yes. I haven't seen it, but they say it was..."

"Cut the bullshit, Ogura." Haruchiyo is too loud as he defends his friend for the second time. A couple seated nearby turns their heads toward your table, intrigued by the sudden commotion. "It wasn't him in the video."

"You talk like you're familiar with his dick," the smirk on Takeshi’s full lips is not meant to be perceived as a mocking one, Rindou really wants to think it’s not, but before he or either anyone else reacts, you laugh and your laugh is cruel and cold.

"If Haru says it wasn't Rintaro, then it wasn't Rintaro. Why the dick comment?"

"Just joking. Right, baby?" Takeshi shoots a toothy smile at Aoki, who sheepishly nods. Rindou wishes you hadn't invited her to lunch. It should've been just you, him, and Haruchiyo. "But I still find it strange that he's so sure it wasn't him in the video. It was just a guy's dick sliding in and out."

"I've never seen the video."

"So you believe whatever he says?" “Oh, God. It’s annoying.” You whine. You lick your lips and stare straight at Takeshi who is right in front of you. Your eyes are black and endless, bottomless, reminiscent of that party where Rindou threw up, where Ran saw Aoki for the second time, and where this mess began. “So, say, your friend comes to you and says he didn’t do it, but everyone else says he did it. Who do you believe? Your friend or them?

Takeshi doesn't hesitate in his response. "A lot of people can't be wrong, right?"

A small little cloud of air escapes your mouth, and your body that has been strained like a tightrope, is now limp in the chair. You look tired. Rindou wants to ask if you're okay, but he refrains. Besides, you start speaking again, this time not looking at Takeshi but at the blue summer sky above you. "Nah. I think they can be wrong. If Rindou or Haru tell me they didn't do it, that's all I need to know. No one can convince me they did it if they say they didn't. So if Haru says it wasn't Rintaro, then it wasn't fucking Rintaro in the video."

For the rest of the lunch, you don't speak much, and Rindou is concerned. He doesn't like it when you get quiet, as it usually means you're sad. More than anything in this world, Rindou hates it when you crawl inside the small room in your heart and lock the door from the inside. It’s the one place he can never reach.

He will never be there for you. Sure, you love each other, but there are places in you that he won’t ever have an access to. He is not the only one who notices the change in your mood. There’s Haruchiyo who brings you into conversation every chance he gets and smiles at you so brightly you totally find it annoying and then there’s Ran, who hasn't taken his eyes off you, since your little quarrel with Takeshi. It's a Ran, Rindou has never seen before - calm, defenceless, and so very curious. He too isn’t participating in the conversation as much as he was before. Only occasionally when he is directly addressed to would he say something, but other than that he remains silent, vigilant over you. It's as if he's afraid that if he looks away, even for a second, you might slip away from him. The sun is close enough to jump behind the horizon to wake up another part of the world when you stand up from the table. The chair screeches against the pavement as you drag it. The sound is jarring, but the entire street is bathed in gentle golden glow, and to Rindou, you look the most beautiful in this moment, even with sadness resting inside you.

"I think I'll head out. I wanted to practice for the showcase," you say, picking up your bag from the floor. Before Rindou or Haruchiyo can say anything, you wave at them. "No need to walk with me. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Neither of them protests. Both know it won't lead to anything. They give you space when you need it. Around midnight both of them will call you anyway to check if you are still at the campus studio, and if you are, they'll come to pick you up and take you home. They'll both call you around midnight to check if you're still at the campus studio, and if you are, they'll come to pick you up and take you home.

So you bid everyone farewell, leave money on the table, and head on your way.

As Rindou watches you walk down the street, he wishes he could fall in love with you and you with him. Then, everything would be simple, and you wouldn't be sad, and tears wouldn't mar your pretty face.

But this dream will remain just that—a dream, a mere thought in his mind that will never fully bloom.

His little sacred wish.

vi.

No one is at the university, and it's not surprising. It's Sunday, and it's almost summer. Everyone has better things to do.

Even you. You could have stayed with your friends and then invited yourself over to Haru's place and watched a movie with him or maybe read a book in solemn silence, eating homemade sandwiches without cheese. There is never any cheese at his house since he is intolerant, but it doesn't bother you. Not even a little.

Or, you could have gone with Rindou to the cinema and stayed over at his apartment. He would let you take his bed and then complain about a backache the next morning. He'd promise to make Ran buy a more comfortable couch, but the next time you'll visit, it will still be that white sofa they bought at a discount from some local shop in Roppongi. You'll point it out - you always do - and Rindou will say that it's actually quite okay and he just wanted to get your attention. You'll pinch him then.

And, of course, the three of you could've crashed at your place or gone together to the studio where you would've taught them some choreography. Haruchiyo would give up first; he is really stiff when it comes to dancing. But Rindou would surprisingly be good, and you would praise him, making him really happy about it.

But you made your choice, and now you are all alone in the studio, and the sun has already set. You dwell a little bit on what made you so upset earlier, but these thoughts - ugly worms - crack open old, forgotten scars, and they bleed. You don't know how to stop them, so you blast music at full volume and dance.

Dance is your sanity, your method of salvation, and your coping strategy. You dance and dance, and you don't stop until it hurts to breathe, and only then do you collapse onto the floor. The hundreds of you in the ceiling-to-floor mirrors do the same. They smile at you and they were smiling as you were dancing, and you suppose you did too, but unfortunately you can’t remember it, and therefore, it never happened.

The door cracks open while you're lying on the floor. You don't turn around to see who it is. Somehow, you know it's him.

It's Ran.

"Is purin daifuku your favorite, or did I mess up, and you won't let me stay?"

Food as a bargain is a bit outdated. For Ran it’s even quite a bit lame. You don't buy it, not for a single second. Because Ran himself is a white lie, a spider web of confusion [in which he pulls you in].

The heavy iron door doesn't make a sound as he shuts it behind him, and you gently close your eyes. Your eyelids fall as they would if you had fallen asleep in your tiny rented apartment in Nippori. It's an act of surrender, almost as if you're giving him the reins, but you doubt he understands it, and so it's alright.

The bags in his hands rustle, and you catch a slight smell of tuna. What has he brought? And why? The second question is the most important, so that's what you ask.

"What do you want? Aoki won't come today or ever. She doesn't practice much."

"Who said I came for her?" Ran counters, and you hear him settling down next to you. You hear the bag being ripped open and try to predict his moves. It's a silly game, but you let yourself indulge in it. You imagine him taking out the food and sitting in a lotus pose to your left. Does he glance at you? Only briefly. There's nothing new or exciting for him to see.

You'll never know if you're right in your guessing game, and you're not very interested. There's no prize to it, anyway.

"You didn't?"

"No. I came to see you."

You sigh, and his indirect lie makes you take a deep breath before opening your eyes and rolling your head to the side, so you can have a good look at him. "Don't lie to me, Ran. There's no point. Just tell me what you want."

He stops whatever he was doing, and his face, so uncharacteristically gentle in this moment, shows surprise. "What would I want from you? There's literally nothing I need from you. I just came here to see you. That's all."

His words are both hurtful and pleasant. Ran Haitani is a duality of a man. He is both white and black. The absence and richness in one body.

You sigh again, this time more disappointed, and leaning your body on your palms, you sit in the same pose as Ran. He still looks at you, his gaze unwavering and searching. A question seems to be on the tip of his tongue, but his lips pressed into a thin line keep it at bay. Only when you look down, your mouth falling open, your eyes widening in awe, does he continue the task of taking the food out of the bag.

"You clearly want something. It's my favorite food. Everything here is what I like."

"So you do like purin daifuku?"

"I do." You nod, reaching out for the bag of caramel corn chips. The flavour is almond caramel, your favourite. "Did Rindou tell you to come here?"

"No. He doesn't even know I came to see you. He's staying over at Akashi's today." He takes out a pair of wooden chopsticks and shoves them your way. A plate of the finest sashimi sits between the two of you. "Stop acting like that. You make me regret coming here. Doesn't my brother spoil you?"

"It's Rindou. Of course, he does." You fall silent as you break the glued-together chopsticks into two pieces. Ran does the same. "It's just different when you do it. Until last year, I thought you didn't even know my name."

"You're being stupid, you know? Of course, I always knew your name." He shakes his head and laughs, and the insult he directed at you a moment ago doesn't feel like an insult at all. Just a little teasing, nothing more. And that’s why you don’t bite back.

Silence envelops you as you eat. No one comes to the studio, and you hear nothing other than the sound of you and Ran chewing. He doesn't speak much, only praising the food he brought and mentioning that he got the sashimi from his favourite restaurant in Roppongi. He promises to tell Rindou to take you there, and he promises to come along. You tell him that you hope he's good with promises because the sashimi is really good, and you wouldn't mind having it again.

But when, after some time, you ask him again why he's here, he merely hums and ignores the question.

"Aoki asked me about you a few weeks ago. We don't share many classes, and we aren't friends, but she knows Rindou is my best friend. So she asked me about you when she saw me." It's another silly guessing game. This time, you try to pinpoint the reason for him being there with you, and if it's not about Aoki, then you're lost. Gladly, there won't be any retributions; just as there won't be any prizes. "She told me she spoke to you at Ryou's party and that she thought you might have liked her, so she asked me to link you two because she liked you too. I told her she should come for lunch with us. She never mentioned she had a boyfriend, though. And then..."

"I liked what you said to him back at the cafe."

"Didn't you hear what I just said, Ran?"

"I did. Did you hear what I said?" On his lips is a playful smile, but his eyes are relaxed and drowsy, and he is looking at you as if seeing you for the very first time. It might be it, but you won’t ask why he saw you only now and he won’t ever say it.

"Yeah, I did. We need to clean everything up here and get going. It's probably around ten now."

He agrees, and together you collect the trash and leftover food. The unfinished snacks and greasy chopsticks go into the paper bag with the restaurant's name on it. For some reason, you fixate on it, trying to commit the name to memory, repeating it over and over in your head.

Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi.

Retreating into your thoughts won't help you, just as it never had before, and certainly not now, not with Ran, who can access every sacred part of you.

You can't hide from him. He'll find you.

"Can I come to your place? I don't want to go home to an empty apartment just yet. It's completely fine if you say no. I'll understand."

"Don't be silly, Ran. Why not? I'd be bored at home alone too."

You're always before him.

vii.

It's his first time in your apartment, yet it feels like he's been here before.

Even though he knows very well that he hasn't.

There's no recollection of your old worn-out black leather couch, mahogany table, or the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that stands half-empty, most of the books lying on the floor near it instead of being placed on the shelves. He can't remember the two bar stools near the kitchen island, and he definitely shouldn't recognise your bedroom, the only separate room in your apartment.

And yet, he does.

The sound of water splashing across the tiles doesn't drown out your singing, and as Ran traces his fingers across every single object in your house, he listens to your voice, which somehow feels familiar to him too. Maybe it's what they call deja-vu, or perhaps it's a sense of belonging. It's peculiar and it's strange, and too difficult for him to comprehend, so he locks it in the back of his mind.

While waiting for you to come out from the shower, he occupies himself with a book that was lying on the kitchen island. It has a bookmark inside - a polaroid picture of his brother's smiling face. Rindou is being hugged from behind by you, your body looming over him. Your head is tilted down, so he can't make out your expression, but he has a hunch you were both smiling. You always smile around Rindou.

Ran has always wondered why the two of you aren't dating. He asks you just that as you're making cherry tea for both of you in the kitchen.

Before answering, you roll your eyes at him. "We don't see each other in that way. I mean… No. I can imagine dating him, but I don't see it leading us anywhere. I love Rindou too much to risk losing him, and I don't really love him in that romantic way. You know what I mean."

Love is a foreign concept to Ran, and even now that he thinks he might be in love with Aoki, he doesn't believe he understands what you mean. To him, love is love. It either exists in you or it doesn’t. You either feel it for someone or you don't. With all these ways and methods, you're just overcomplicating something that shouldn't be difficult in the first place. "What about Haru then?"

"Haru?" You place a white mug with tea in front of him. It smells really good - sweet and pleasant, somehow just like you. "We kissed once, but we were really drunk, and it was a bet. It didn't feel like anything. I doubt Haru even remembers it."

"Have you kissed Rindou then too?"

"No." As if deeply offended, you frown at Ran, then hop onto a bar stool and look to your right at the dark window, its reflection showing the compact room you're in. He might be imagining things, but he swears you're looking at him through the reflection. "I would never. Anyway, don't you want to know what else Aoki said to me about you?"

Ran licks his lips, not responding immediately. He watches you, observing your gaze fixed on the room's reflection, and takes a sip of the tea. The tea is hot and a big gulp he takes burns his throat. "This tea is delicious. Where did you get it from?" When you turn your head, and he meets your eyes - empty, sad, and meaningful - it startles him. He adds, "No, I don't want to talk about her at all."

"I'm sorry. I thought you might want to know what else she said to me." You tilt your head, offering him a smile. In this moment, you remind him of something he once lost. It's a huge relief knowing he won't ever need to search for it again. "You can stay the night if you want. You look really sleepy, Ran. It probably won't be safe for you to drive."

"Can I take a shower then?"

"Yes, and I probably have some of Rindou's sweats lying around. You can sleep in them if you'd like."

Ran chuckles, standing up. The tea is nearly finished, and his throat, still tingling from the burn, makes him aware of its warmth. "Do you have a lot of Rindou's clothes here?"

"A couple of sweatpants, t-shirts, and his contact lenses."

He nods, more to himself than to you, making a mental note to ask his brother why he doesn't date you.

You seem like a really nice girl.

The sky is black when Ran wakes up in your bed, his arms and legs tangled in your sheets. Your scent, sweet and fresh, envelops him, and he takes a deep breath, letting the air stay in his lungs for as long as he can. He prefers his own bed with its silky appearance and soft mattress, but yours isn’t half as bad. He doesn’t regret staying.

You aren't beside him as you promised you'd be in a few hours after reading your book. You said you didn't mind sharing the same bed. You said you and Rindou always shared the bed when necessary.

You said, you said, you said.

To him, it doesn't matter much where you'd sleep – in your bed or on that monstrosity of a sofa. What matters, and stings, is that you said you would come, and you still aren't here. His eyes barely open as he shifts and turns to the right, spotting a small patch of light coming from the living room [which isn't just a living room but also a kitchen and a hallway].

Peeling the creamy comforter off himself, Ran yawns and gets up. His body, still warm from sleep, stiffens immediately when met with the cool air. The window in the room is open, and he swears under his breath, not recalling whether it was him who didn't close it or you who opened it after he fell asleep.

His feet on the wooden floor, he takes one step and then another, and soon you are before him. You stir a bit, as if annoyed by his presence, your fingers clutching the book tighter as if afraid it might be snatched away from you. Your sudden hostility doesn't deter him, and he rubs his eyes as he mumbles, his voice deep and groggy, "What time is it?"

The night is deep and dark when he notices your glossy eyes and wet cheeks. The reflection on the window, one he got used to, isn't there anymore. Only an eternal void, an absence of everything. You once told him you like black and white because they aren't really colours, because it was like they don’t even exist. He didn't retort back then, but now he knows better than that.

Black and white are the brightest, and you exist in them.

"What's wrong?" Ran suppresses another yawn. Sleep still lingers on the tip of his tongue, in the corners of his mind.

As expected, you don't say anything. You're like a statue of melted ugly wax, yet to Ran, you're incredibly beautiful.

He needs to know what upset you. [So it won’t ever again].

"Is the book sad?" he asks, sitting on the floor next to your bare legs.

"No, it's not," you whisper, closing your eyes. More tears escape, and Ran catches them with his outstretched palm. Your quivering lips and salty cheeks make you look too innocent between his hands. "I think I made it sad."

"You made it sad? How?"

"Because it's a nice book about people living their lives and being happy. But all I could think about was how mundane and ordinary it was, and I couldn't understand why they were so happy. Then I thought that I, too, lead the same life. It's a never-ending cycle of the same things." A sob tears away from your chest and comes alive. Ran's heart breaks a little. He doesn't know why. He doesn't have time to ponder why. "Ran. Am I thinking too much into it?"

"I don't think so. No." He shakes his head and, with the last wipe of his fingers across your cheeks, stands up. "Not really. But I don't think your life is all that ordinary."

"You don't think so?" You sound expectant and hopeful. His heart cracks a bit more.

"I don't think so." Gently, he takes the book from you and slips his hand into yours. Your hand is cold. "You're studying to be a professional dancer, Rin is your best friend, and that 'red guy' is almost a celebrity. And now you're going to sleep in the same bed with your best friend's brother. Now, tell me, how is this an ordinary life?"

This makes you laugh. The ice is melting, and the darkness recedes.

Soon, it will be dawn.

He helps you stand up, holding you by your hands, and together you return to the bedroom. He lets you take the side of the bed closest to the wall. You hesitate for a moment, but then you slip under the creamy blanket, your head and body disappearing beneath it. Now it's his turn to laugh. You remind him of Rindou. He used to do the same thing when he was little, back when they were poor and lived in their old apartment, sharing a bed because that and the broken table was all they had.

The memory itself isn't bad, but it's sad, and the nostalgia it carries isn't to Ran's taste. Your sheets still hold his warmth, providing a welcoming feeling. He tugs at the comforter and lifts it off you. "Don't hide. Wanna see you."

"Do you often sleep with girls?" Your cheeks are tear stained and they shine under the forgotten light of the lamp still on in the living room.

Ran turns, lying on his side to face you. Your hot breath grazes his mouth, carrying scents of cherry tea and summer and something salty. "Are you asking about sleeping as in sex, or sleeping as in just sharing a bed?"

"Sleeping as in just sharing a bed. Like what we're doing now."

He doesn't notice you reaching out to undo his braids and when he finally does, he stops breathing, taken aback by the unexpected yet pleasant sensation. He lets you continue, because, contrary to what he might expect, it feels good – almost caring – like someone finally cared enough to untie his long hair so his head wouldn't hurt in the morning.

"You'll be the first," he breathes out, his eyes half-closed as he watches your fingers dance through his hair. If not for the complete silence that reigns in your apartment, you probably wouldn't hear his words at all.

But he's mistaken, and you prove him wrong. "In moments like this, doesn't it feel like we're the only people in the world? Like it's just us and this apartment, and nothing more?"

"It does." He easily agrees.

You hum in response and he can sense that you are far far away from him, already hopping on to your next thought, pondering over something that he doesn’t understand or maybe doesn’t want to. He wants to bring you back to him, so he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose grazing your sensitive skin, and your goosebumps become his. He smiles, leaving traces of his happiness – ordinary or not – on you, and you return to the real world, freed from the constraints of your mind.

"Good night, Ran. I'll make us breakfast in the morning."

"And I'll take you out for coffee after breakfast."

"Thank you."

He wants to ask what for, but the sky will soon turn blue and he doesn’t want that. He wants this night to carry on forever.

With his arms around your waist, he falls asleep.

viii.

"Hey, Rin, I've got a question, but promise me you won't get mad."

The black sports bag sitting on the unmade bed contains sneakers, two t-shirts, sweats, and a large white towel. In fifteen minutes, he should be out of the house to catch the bus to the gym and meet up with Kakucho on time. Missing the bus would mean being half an hour late. Kakucho, of course, will wait for him, but then later today he promised you he’ll take you out for ice-cream.

Unlike Kakucho, however, you wouldn't wait, and to pick you up from the dance studio on campus without delay, he couldn't afford to miss the bus that would take him to the gym.

Ten more minutes. He needs to put on his shoes.

"So?"

In the doorway to his room, leaning against the doorframe, stands Ran. He's not wearing a t-shirt, and his hair is disheveled, with a sleepy look on his annoyingly handsome face. He probably just woke up.

"What do you want?" Rindou doesn't mean to be rude, but he's in a rush, and Ran has a tendency to take his sweet time with everything.

"I told you. I have a question for you."

"Yeah? I'm listening."

Rindou zips up the bag and strides over to his brother, heading straight for the door. He grabs a pair of blue Adidas and sits on the floor to put them on. Ran follows closely behind him.

"It's about your best friend."

"What about her?" The bus, the gym, and Kakucho are forgotten. Rindou tenses up. Everything that comes out of Ran's mouth is tainted. He stares at the laces on his sneakers, hands momentarily frozen. "What do you want to know?" “Do you like her?” “Why?” Finally, Rindou raises his head up. Ran towers over him. Hands locked on his chest. Not an ounce of usual laziness in his curious waiting eyes.

"Just curious. You seem close, and she's a really nice girl. Why haven't you two started dating?"

Five more minutes. If he’d be late, you’ll mask your sadness by your anger, and the world will turn bitter.

The best option right now would be to lie to Ran. To say, I'm sorry, I'll be late. We'll talk about it later. To come up with some nonsensical excuse and make him believe it. To protect you.

Rindou does nothing of that. He sees his brother's expectant face and takes a deep breath, knowing that he'll tell the truth. He holds out his hand, and Ran reaches out to him, allowing Rindou to steady himself, pulling him to his feet.

"I wish I liked her, but I love her. And love is never simple, is it? We're better off as friends. I care about her too much to risk spoiling our friendship."

"Oh, I see." An appreciative, contented hum escapes Ran's thin lips. "Maybe you're just… Anyway, forget I asked anything. Are you going to the gym? Tell Kaku I said hello."

Maybe you just... what? But Rindou doesn't ask. He nods, waves at his brother, and with his gym bag in hand, rushes out of the house. Down the stairs and onto the street.

He watches the bus pass by a few meters away from the bus stop.

ix.

The cigarette between your fingers carries the scent of tobacco and vanilla.

You hate smoking and yet you bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale the bitter sweetness into your lungs. It awakens your cloudy mind and burns your body from the inside. You are a room full of pale smoke and hate it all you want, there’s nothing you can really do about this nasty habit of yours.

You hate dancing too and yet you dance every single day. That’s the irony of it all, you think. Being doomed to doing what you hate for the rest of your life. Making it your legacy and descending into the abyss of eternity with it.

You despise dancing at parties, yet you find yourself dancing every single day anyway. The irony isn't lost on you. Being trapped in doing something you detest for the rest of your life. Making it your legacy and descending into the abyss of eternity with it.

The music has turned down, but your head still throbs with every thought. It's painful, but this particular hurt feels borderline nice and relaxing. Almost like returning home after a long day of dance practice – utterly exhausted, yet content. You hum along to the rhythm, shifting in the corner of a bright red velvet sofa. You can't recall whose house you're in right now; it was one of Haruchiyo's friends, but he has too many for you to remember them all.

"Care to explain why the eldest Haitani can't take his eyes off you today?" Talk of the devil, and he is sure to appear. Even though Haruchiyo is more like an angel. With his sweet pink hair and easy smile, he settles on the back of the sofa, leaning against you. His voice sounds as soothing as a cat's purr. "Girls are furious with you. Overheard a few of them calling you names."

You don’t need to turn around and see his bloodshot eyes to know that he is high. Rindou, who's not in sight, is probably stoned as well. They often smoke together, and if you hadn't been late today, you might have joined them. But you're not, and it leaves you feeling incredibly sad. You hate being sober when they are not.

"Don't be silly, Haru." You extinguish the cigarette in a handcrafted clay ashtray, the color an unappealing cheap purple. Oddly, you want to take it home.

"I'm not being silly!" He whines, making an irrational turn before finally settling on the sofa next to you. Under his weight it sinks down. Suddenly, the apartment feels aged. "He's been staring at you since you arrived, and I actually spotted you two on campus the other day. What's happening between you?"

"Nothing. What could be happening between me and Ran?"

In the adjacent room – the kitchen – a bottle crashes to the ground and shatters, followed by a cacophony of loud noises. A few girls scream, their high-pitched voices drowning out the electronic music. Haruchiyo pays no attention to this minor disturbance. He slips his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers, and rests his head on your shoulder. Despite his inebriation from weed and alcohol, he smells pleasant.

"Dunno. I just wanted to warn ya to be careful, and Rin's been suspicious too. Says Ran’s been weird about you lately."

"Oh."

People come and go, and you follow them with weary eyes, attempting to deduce how much they've had to drink or their field of study based on their attire. A silly little game to distract yourself.

You want to go home, but you can't bring yourself to leave.

"He's just hung out at my place a few times. Maybe more. And we've been hanging out, spending some time alone together. Just the two of us." You finally admit, and when Haruchiyo doesn't stop playing with your fingers, nor does he falter, you know he won't judge you.

He is your safe haven.

"Did you fuck?"

"Oh my god, Haru! No." You exclaim, and he erupts in laughter. His joyful chuckles spread happiness throughout your being.

"Rin's older brother is quite the catch. I wouldn't blame you if you did fuck him. If I were you, I definitely would've." Haruchiyo yelps when you pinch him, but then he grabs the hand you attacked him with and edges closer to you. His gray eyes soften as they meet yours. "I won't tell Rin. Don't worry."

Moments like this make you forget all the hatred, and you come to appreciate cigarettes, smoking, dancing, plum cakes, ironies, hot days, and the bitter aftermath. Most of all, you love Haru and his gentle nature. You kiss him on the nose, a small peck, an offering of lost affection. His face lights up with smiles, his cheeks flushed with either alcohol, humidity, or simply your presence.

"You're the best, Haru," you whisper to him, and he nods in response. He never accepts compliments easily. Then you add, "Let's go find Rindou. I miss him."

In the end, you don't get up from the sofa, and it's Rindou who eventually discovers you both in each other's arms.

The air in the small ramen shop near Waseda University is heavy with the scent of pork broth, and Ran wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Don't make such a face. This place has the best ramen in Shinjuku." The machine with different water stained stickers makes a loud noise and the automat lady says something incomprehensible. Shion turns around and with a happy face shoves tickets into Ran’s chest. "I’ve gotta go take a leak or I’m pissing myself right here.”

Before Shion disappears behind a grey curtain that Ran thinks was originally white, he turns back briefly. "Kakucho should be here in about five minutes. Let him know I've already paid."

Generosity isn't exactly Shion's strong suit, but today he'd received a perfect score on one of his projects and wanted to celebrate with his favourite ramen and favourite people – or so he claimed. Ran doubted this particular ramen shop was truly Shion's favourite, but since he had said it was the best in Shinjuku and Ran was too tired to drive somewhere else, they'd settled on staying nearby. As for the sentiment, it probably wasn't genuine either.

The interior isn't crowded. A few waitresses – pretty young girls around Ran's age – and an elderly man engrossed in his newspaper occupy the space. There's a half-empty glass on his table with cloudy yellow liquid; obviously sake. Ran ponders whether he's ever drunk this early in the day, but he can't recall such a memory. He's chosen to keep a clear mind since he and Rindou have been on their own.

You never know what might happen next. And that's something Ran dislikes about life. He prefers to be in control, but with how things flow you can never be. Nothing depends solely on you.

So when the door opens, and you enter the ramen shop with Kakucho and a short girl who strongly resembles your best friend – yours and Rindou's red-haired companion – Ran's throat tightens. Conflicting emotions surge within him. On one hand, he's genuinely thrilled to see you here. When you both woke up in your apartment this morning – where he had stayed the night, once again – he hadn't had the time to take you out for coffee, and this deviation from your usual post-sleepover routine had left an aching void in his chest. [Rindou would probably say he's being overly dramatic, but fortunately, Rindou will never be privy to this particular struggle.] On the other hand, he wishes you weren't here, in this damned cramped space, where everything smells a little bit too much.

He can already envision loving stares Shion will cast upon you, and he hates it so much he wishes you'd disappear. And he wants you to stay. He wants you to consciously choose a seat next to him and he wants you to talk only to him and don’t spare a glance for anyone else.

He wants you.

The revelation dawns on him suddenly, and his eyes widen. He's surprised, and there's sadness and anger swirling within him. His heart is tender, though, as you lift your head and grace him with a small smile. He nearly forgets where he is.

"You didn't tell me Ran was here. You said we were coming to see your friends." If not for the playful undertone in your voice, someone might think you were chastising Kakucho.

"You two know each other?"

You scoff, offering Ran an amused glance. "Of course we do."

"How would she know you but not me? I should be the one surprised that you two know each other."

An unexpected edge tinges Kakucho, and he frowns, subsiding. The girl beside him bites her lip, a reproachful look in her eyes, and mumbles something Ran thankfully can't hear. But you, you smile broadly and settle into the seat next to him [just as he wanted you to]. You toss your bag at your feet and place your hand on his thigh. "I actually agree with Ran. It'd be strange for me to know you and not him. Do you know how much Rindou complains to me about him?"

Your teasing stings, and Ran rolls his eyes, playfully pinching you on the soft skin near your thumb. You squint, gritting your teeth, and he quickly presses his fingers over the irritated area, soothing the discomfort he caused. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be so harsh."

"You're insufferable. If I'd known you were here, I would've turned down Kakucho's invitation to come."

This hurts. Even as a joke it does and Ran releases your hand with a flick. "You're such a liar, ba…" A sudden cough interrupts him from adding a pet name and he frowns, turning his head to its source. It turns out to be the short blonde girl – the one he momentarily forgot was present.

"Akashi Senju," she says, offering him a small hand. "I'm her friend and Haruchiyo's sister."

"Senju also studies at Waseda, just like you. She's a first-year student," you add, grinning at your friend. "Anyway, aren't you hungry? You said you were starving."

The second you stand from your chair, Ran's mood darkens. He stares at your back, noting that you've changed since the morning, now wearing different jeans. He prefers the ones you had on earlier. These are a bit too low-rise for his taste, and the color doesn't sit right with him either. Did you practice at the studio and change into a new outfit? Or perhaps you came back home after your morning class and specifically changed for your meeting with Akashi?

"Don't bother asking me anything. I'm not in the mood," Ran says, noticing Kakucho's smug expression. "Oh, and Shion has paid for your ramen. Don't order anything."

"I wasn't planning to."

To what Kakucho is referring is a mystery Ran won’t entertain himself solving. For now, he has another thing to settle and that thing is his own melting heart.

He knocks on your door that same evening after dropping you out just hours before. The ride home from the ramen shop was silent for most part and your home was the first stop. He didn’t say goodbye as you silently closed the door wishing to see everyone soon again. And he didn't allow himself a pleasure of a biting remark – one that had been simmering on his tongue since Shion let out an unnecessary whistle upon meeting you – to slip and pierce through his friend.

Both boys and the Akashi girl had asked to be dropped off at Nakano Station, which was relatively close to your apartment. Ran hadn't argued and hadn't offered anything in response. He is a mess and all he needs to calm down is you and your annoyingly good cherry tea. You made it every single time he was over.

So when he knocks on your door carrying two bags with a chicken logo – from a small restaurant he spotted on his way back that claimed to serve the best karaage – and a box full of glazed donuts from an American coffeehouse chain, he hopes you'll allow him another cup of tea.

"I knew you'd come," you say, stepping aside to let him in. "What did you bring? Oh! I love that place! Give me that, and go sit down. I'll grab the plates and everything."

But he doesn't sit. He follows you into the kitchen, observing as you tear into the bags, too impatient to untie knots. He smiles at your little quirks and habits. By now, he believes he knows you well. All the small details, bumps and preferences that are arranged in such a way, they make you. You are a thousand myriads of memories, of happiness and of never ending dark night and he wants to conquer every single one.

He wants you.

When you reach for two plates, he steps closer and wraps his arms around you, his hands over yours, he guides them to your chest. In this close proximity, he can smell the lingering fragrance of your shower gel and soap on your skin. He traces his lips over the damp skin of your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear.

"Were you planning on going out today?" he asks, not moving a single centimetre away. "You smell so good."

"No. I told you I knew you'd drop by, so I took a shower earlier. You always look so bored when I leave you alone while I'm showering."

He smiles into your skin and playfully nips it, licking the pain away immediately. He wants you, and he wants you to know it. He wants everyone else to know that you're wanted by him too. A purple mark blooms on your skin, and you tremble, your hands gripping his arms.

"Why are you so good to me? For me," he leans his head on yours and kisses the crown of your head, pulling you even closer to him.

"Ran."

"Tell me."

You wait a second. Two. Three. More. Your breath quickens and he feels your heart pounding against his own, and he closes his eyes in an attempt to steady himself, to find some stability amidst the chaos that is you.

Somehow, he senses that whatever you're about to say won't be pleasant, which is perhaps why he doesn't rush you or urge you to continue. Instead, he litters your head and neck with kisses, communicating his love.

"You don't really like me, Ran, do you? You like Aoki."

Your fingers are entwined with his, and he can't recall who initiated it. You or him.

"Bullshit. I barely remember her most days until you bring her up. Just what did she tell you? We never had anything going on."

"Maybe. But you don't like me. You like her, and that's why we shouldn't."

His kisses come to a halt. He gently turns you around to face him, searching your face. You don't appear sad or disappointed or disheartened. Maybe a little flustered and your eyes shine a different way. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

"Bullshit."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're a terrible liar, Ran."

He scoffs. "I'm not. I am a good liar, but I am not lying to you when I say I want you. I need you. You are the one for me." "Then can we agree on one thing, Ran?" You take the hair ties out of his braids, your fingers deftly working to undo them.

"Anything you want."

"If we do this, can we agree not to kiss? At least until you figure out how you truly feel about me."

"That's ridiculous. What else? Should I take you from behind so we don't have to see each other's faces?" He is irritated, but not mad. Yet.

"Don't be crude. No, I just don't want to kiss you when you have feelings for someone else. I don't want to get too attached. I don’t kiss people without feelings." Your hands run through his hair, and he melts into the sensation. You're his solace, his sanctuary. He can't understand how you fail to see that.

"Please, Ran. It's more for me than for you, and I'm sorry."

He sighs, his thumb brushing over your lips. He had been looking forward to kissing you. Ran loves to kiss. But patience is often rewarded, right? Or something along those lines. It doesn't matter.

One day, he's sure he'll get to kiss you. He knows it.

"It's stupid, but alright. I'll kiss you when I'm certain I love you," he says, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your forehead. "I don't understand why I can't kiss you now, though, but anything for you. If it will make you feel better then okay.”

I'll do anything for you.

Damp beige sheets are scattered in the corner of the room near the door. The entire space is filled with the scent of sex and the nighttime city, and Ran never wants to leave. He feels at home.

His grey t-shirt you are wearing stands out on the clean black sheets you spread out a little before. You're lying on the bed with your limbs stretched out, your body still sensitive and trembling. The pose reminds him of starfish, and he bites back a laugh, his eyes twinkling with delight.

"Ran!" You roll your head to the side, propping yourself up and adjusting the pillow on the headboard to make yourself comfortable. You do the same for him, and his heart swells, yet again, for what feels like the millionth time and beyond this evening. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No. Why would I?" He places two bowls of karaage and rice – one for each of you – on the bed and slides under the blanket. Your bare thigh brushes against his hip. He isn’t wearing much. Just his boxers. And if he isn’t mistaken you too aren’t wearing anything except for his t-shirt.

“Don't know. You were just all smiles when I turned my head.”

He doesn’t grace you with a response, because just for this once he wants you to find the answer yourself. He wants you to read it in the depths of his eyes, in the creases that form beneath them, and in the glow of his lips. Lips you didn't get to kiss today. The chicken and rice are cold, but the food is still good and he has been starving ever since he got up from the bed and took you to the shower. You had been hazy and sensitive, his cum on your thighs and belly, and when the water was hitting your body it seemed like it was hurting you more than bringing you relief. He asked you if it was true, but you just nudged him closer, holding him close with your arms tightly wrapped around his waist. He'd carefully washed you clean.

"What's on your mind, Ran?" you ask, your chopsticks poised between your fingers. "Oh, wait, don't tell me. Let me guess."

As you contemplate your guess, your eyes scrutinize his face, and he notices every small change it makes.. How your lips quiver after you lick them clean. How your eyes narrow as you attempt to focus on him. How you fidget with the wooden chopsticks, transferring them from one hand to the other. How you look flushed and innocent and so incredibly young and beautiful. How you now forever have him as a part of you.

You sigh, your shoulders rising and falling gently. Your bowl is only half-empty, and he guesses that you probably aren’t the type to get hungry after sex. "Are you thinking about sex? Or maybe Rindou? Oh, no, wait! Maybe you're craving that dessert you love. What was it called? Rindou once made me get it for you because he said you were mad at him and it was the only thing that could save his life."

"How do Rin, sex, and my favorite dessert all fit together?" Ran sets his now-empty bowl aside and takes yours, which you kindly offer him to finish. "It doesn't really make sense."

"Your expression. You looked like you were thinking about something you really eally love."

So fucking innocently curious. So naively observant. So so so. Ran tries to grab what arises in his chest and what burns his throat, but he can’t, so he swallows and reaches out for you instead. Nestled in his arms, you fit perfectly, and he nuzzles his nose in your neck, which now carries the scent of him. He's never shared this level of intimacy with the girls he's been with before, but with you, it's different. With you, he can sense his imprints all over your body, just as he knows you've marked yourself onto him.

"Could you make me some of that cherry tea in the morning?" he murmurs into your skin. He senses a slight flinch as you're tickled, and to make amends, he places a soft little kiss there.

Your embrace tightens around him. "Were you thinking about my cherry tea?"

"Well, if you put it that way... yeah, I guess I was. Will you make it for me when we wake up?"

In this moment, in your bed, bodies entwined under warm blankets, Ran lies to you for the first time. And you both understand he's doing so. You both know he wasn't really thinking about cherry tea, but rather you.

And yet, no matter how terrifying it is, you comply, you choose to believe him and say, "Yeah, I will. Of course I will."

xi.

Rindou has a suspicion you are hiding something from him and he is determined to find out what. He is all in for secrets and mysteries, but not from you. When it comes to you he is greedy and he wants to know everything. So if you get hurt he will know whom to punch and what words to say to make the wound they inflicted upon you sting less.

Rindou, who has always been protected by Ran, loves to be protective of you. It’s a self-assigned role of a big brother he never was to anyone that he cherishes too much. But no matter how many times he has hinted - too bluntly - for you to pour your heart out to him, you simply don’t say what he wants to hear. He gets desperate and when one day he is high with Sanzu in his apartment, he asks him if he noticed it too. Your strange behaviour and how lately you’ve been smelling different. Like something too familiar and close to him.

In his typical manner, Sanzu laughs it off. He promises Rindou that there’s nothing to worry about, cause if you’d wanted to tell them you would’ve. And if not, then you will tell them later. You all are best friends and you will be so until the end of your days. A little trust, Rin, never hurt anybody.

There’s nothing left for him, but to agree, and yet the smell on your skin stays and in the next days all Rindou can is to get familiar with it since now it’s part of you.

The rumours that you slept with a college professor for the main stage in the showcase spreads around not so long after.

Rindou punches a guy who he overhears saying it in the cafeteria and almost gets detention for breaking university’s principles. But it doesn’t stop him from beating that guy up again. This time he is smarter. He does it outside of the school.

Knuckles bloody and torn he feels alive.

He isn’t that much surprised when he finds out it was Aoki who started this nasty lie about you.

After all, you’ve always been rivals.

“That was stupid, Rin.” You murmur sitting on the floor of their apartment. His hand rests in yours, a warm dead weight. The cotton ball soaked with vodka - they didn’t have any first aid kit at home - glides across his scraped skin. Despite you speaking gently, your movements are precise and harsh. You obviously are a bit mad or maybe sad and worried. “You know I don’t care what they say.” The alcohol stings his skin more than your words. He closes his eyes. “But I do. I can’t just brush it off if they call my best friend a whore right to my face.”

“He didn’t see you,” you observe, quickly glancing at him, before returning to your task.

“What a pity.” “Will he live?” you tear the gauze in two and wrap it around Rindou’s knuckles tying in with a pretty bow. He thinks it’s a bit excessive and he doesn’t really need something to cover up the wound, but he lets you tend to him. He likes it a bit too much to deny it.

The water in the bathroom stops running and for a second it’s eerily quiet in the apartment. The only noise comes from honking cars - might be someone parking for too long - and people loudly laughing right under their building - might be a student couple that rents a flat above Haitani’s. Life never stops even when it stills for you. The world is wheeling around and around and around.

"What's with the hospital? What happened?" Veiled by his thoughts Rindou doesn’t notice his brother coming out of the bathroom. With Ran beside you looking at his hands, the world speeds up; Rindou subconsciousness suffers. “Hey, Rin! What happened?”

Without your permission he can’t tell the truth. He won’t dare to spill that ugly rumour about you and he won’t - everything inside him riot against this nasty lie - even say it outloud if you don’t want him to. Even to his brother.

Rindou’s loyalty is his doom. “Rindou fought the guy who he caught saying I slept with mister Okamoto for the main role in the showcase.” There’s not a hinge of bitterness or resentment in you as you answer Ran’s question.

Rindou wants to smack you. He wants you to be more serious about yourself. He hates that you aren’t and he is surprised when Ran is.

“Why would someone say that about you?”

“Jealousy, I guess. It’s going to be the second year I am the lead.” You stand up from the floor and take the open bottle of vodka along with the remaining gauze and cotton balls to the kitchen. “Honestly, Ran, it’s just a stupid rumour. Why even bother? People are gonna talk anyway.”

“No. If we’ll make them, they won’t,” Ran retorts, going after you and Rindou can’t help, but turn around and peek out from the corner to get a better view. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I am being serious. Don’t let them come at you for something you didn’t do.”

“Yeah. You worked hard to be the lead. Don’t let them take it away from you.”

The simple truth is the hardest to swallow, and you almost crumble under its pressure. It's obvious to Rindou that you didn't like what the wind was carrying around the university's halls. Maybe it really didn't bother you that much, but it still soured your sweet success. He wished he could've helped before blood needed to be spilled. Because now, Rindou isn't sure if his warmth and care can make you feel better. What is left for you is to wrap his hands in gauzes and share the warmth of your existence.

And so he raises to his feet, to catch you one more time, to not let tears stain your cheeks and your heart.

“Oh, no, no.” It’s Ran. He reaches for your face and cups your cheeks between his palms, his big fingers erasing fat tears from your skin. He coos at you, eyes searching for you. “You know what? I don’t want to see you cry, and I bet Rin doesn’t want to see you cry either. But it’s okay if you want to. I won’t stop you. So cry all you want, and then I’ll take you to that restaurant I told you about. Alright? I am going to blow dry my hair, and we are good to go. Okay?”

Frozen, near the kitchen countertop stands Rindou. He takes his glasses off and wipes them with the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t dare to look at you, and besides, he isn’t even sure if he will see you. Your presence isn’t for him, and maybe it never was. Maybe he was never that important in your life; only a connecting chain to something bigger than him.

He can’t find you.

“I am sorry,” you whisper when Ran is gone to his room and your eyes are almost dry.

Rindou frowns. There’s no reason for you to apologize to him, and yet he leans into you, his forehead burrowing at your shoulder. “Whatever you say or do is okay. Remember? We accept each other as we are. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else around me.”

“I love you, Rindou.” Again, it’s a whisper, a small meaningful promise. “I love you so so much.”

“I know.” He laughs, suddenly uncomfortable and very shy. That new foreign smell of yours hits his nose and Rindou inhales it fully, filling his lungs with it and a realisation comes at him so simple, he thinks he knew it from the beginning. The shock he imagined he would go through isn’t here. Nothing is. Just acceptance and your detachedness in which he loses himself. You smell like his brother. Like Ran. You’ve been for a while. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you closer. His hands don't hurt him anymore.

xii.

His fingers are warm on the gentle skin of your hips, and every little caress feels like millions of kisses planted straight to your heart.

Girls in your university and mutual friends through Rindou who slept with Ran had the tendency to discuss him in bed, and besides claiming that he always knew what he was doing and how he should do it, they always mentioned him being exceptionally rough. He never stayed at your place for a night, never brought you to his apartment in Roppongi (everyone assumed it was their mutual agreement with Rindou), and never slept with the same girl twice. Never. Never. Never. There were too many rules and details for you to remember. Laying under him on his bed in his room you would swear they all were liars.

Running your fingers through his long hair and combing them behind his ears so they won’t tickle you falling onto your face, you moan from the burning pleasure that never left you from the moment Ran declared he wanted you.

Slow, but powerful rolls of his hips catch you off guard - they always do - and you tug at his hair a bit too harshly. His face comes closer to yours and your naked chest touches his, he brushes against your hard nipples, and with pure curiosity and pleasure watches you close your eyes, back detaching your body from the damp sheets. It’s like you want to be closer to him. Like you run into his arms; into him.

[He accepts you.] He welcomes you.

The exposed marked skin of your neck comes into his vision and he leans down to kiss you there. Mark it again. Purple on purple. More purple. You and him are the same colour.

His breathy whispers burn like holy oil. Something sacred that was never meant to be shared with anyone else. “So good for me, baby. Always good. It’s you. Only you for me. Right, baby? I am yours. Oh God, I am yours, baby.”

More confessions. More promises. More spilled love.

With you Ran is always tender. He always eats you out - despite you not wanting to, since you say it’s like a kiss, too intimate - and he always stretches you before he puts his cock inside you so it won’t hurt you. He always listens to your needs, without you voicing them out even once. And after you are done you both eat and talk and laugh, and then go at it again.

After the fifth time you are sure that Ran Haitani never fucked you, but made love to you. And it was not in the tempo or poses he had you in or where you had sex or if he initiated it or you or how many times you both finished or many other stupid reasons. No. It was in his touches, his words, his smiles, his laughs, his gestures, his eyes and how soft they were right after or sometimes in the moment.

It was in his being and how you both felt around each other.

Today, when Ran cums, your lower part warm with it, he crushes you with his body. You stroke his toned shoulders and back. It’s not just his hair that gets your attention. It’s every part of his body. You love to please him too. His breath is hot against your ear shell, and you squirm, grazing your nails against his tattooed skin. He winces, but laughs, detaching himself from you.

“I am so spent,” he confesses, yawning and you giggle at this natural confirmation from his body. “Do you wanna take a nap? We can order something later or go out. I wouldn’t mind having shabu-shabu. Whatcha think?”

You bite your lip, pretending to consider his offer, when in reality you already know you’ll agree and now you are just taking him in. Ran is very beautiful. Womanly pretty.

"Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

Before Ran rolls to his side, he kisses you in the corner of your lips and then up your face to your brows. Never on your lips. Because you asked and he promised. Genuine content smile brightens up your drown in pleasure face.

"You know," he muses, "I like your red-haired friend more now."

You laugh, immediately understanding what he meant by that and as if the sound of your laugh is an alarm for his need to be close to you, Ran shifts closer to you, bringing you too, flash against his naked body. Skin to skin.

"His hair is pink, and his name is Haruchiyo. But you always say his hair is red. It's kind of funny," you murmur, closing your eyes. Your body is too sensitive for you to move much without feeling the never ending hunger for Ran, but you still do and you gasp, your palms gripping onto his shoulders.

He smirks and lets you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. You kiss him there.

"Yeah, Haruchiyo. Next time, I'll pay him myself to take Rin to Hakone. For a whole week. Anyway, let's sleep. I want to make you feel good again when we wake up. Do you want me to wake you up with my fingers or my mouth? You seem like you need it. You are so fucking sensitive everytime we have sex. It’s like I am your first and you never had decent co…”

"Rude, Haitani," you slap his back. Gently. "So rude."

Silence settles over the room and your breaths even out. You think he has fallen asleep. His chest rising up and down. His body is warm and solid and heavy next to yours. Your fingers continue their dance across his nape.

"But you still like me, right? Rude or not?" He asks, his voice a bit clearer than before, and you know that he has been thinking about this all this time.

Without a delay or hesitation, you speak. "Yes, I do. Rude or not."

Again, he doesn’t reply back and after an unknown amount of lost time, you understand that he indeed has fallen asleep. You follow him right after, thinking that maybe his question was more serious than you initially thought it was.

xiii.

The plans for Rindou’s surprise birthday party were made in advance in the kitchen of your apartment.

For the first time in four years that you’ve become a part of Rindou’s life, Ran lets you both - you and Haruchiyo - to play a part in the arranging of the birthday party for his brother. He does it because of you, of course. Another reason is knowing that Rindou will be very pleased and happy. Unlike Ran, Rindou likes surprises. It was your idea to veil every little preparation, location and guest list with exciting secrecy. Both boys [under an insane amount of pressure] promised you to not even speak of the upcoming birthday to Rindou. Let alone spill any details or hints about the party.

Just a few days before it Haruchiyo however sitting in the cafeteria accidentally mentioned to Rindou that the colour of banana milk reminded him of kitchen countertops in the house Ran rented for the surprise party. He was saying it with a huge smile on his face that quickly faded when he realised what he said. You - who obviously had a huge soft stop for Haruchiyo - didn’t even get mad at him. You all laughed it off and Rindou asked no questions, appreciating your efforts.

"Can you believe it?" Happy Birthday Rindou garland shimmers in your hands. You tape the second end of it to the wall and lean back, looking at it, trying to see if it’s even. It’s the fifth time now and Ran slowly loses his patience. He doubts Rindou would notice if it declines for one degree. “I thought you would be the one who would uncover us.”

The ladder echoes a clunking sound as you come down. You fall right into Ran’s arms who were steading it for you the whole time, hands gripping the metal so you didn’t fall. He is surprised. “Me? Why? You know I am actually good at keeping secrets.”

“I know you are.” Hands on your chest, you squint at the wall, overlooking the garland. Your expression is hard and serious and no matter how much Ran tries to decipher it he can’t. Silently, he prays you won’t readjust it yet again. He is getting tired and he still needs to fill the fridge with beers and what else alcohol he bought. There were also snacks and fairy lights to be taken care of. At least, all the vases and unnecessary fragile decorations were already sitting in the storage.

“Does it look good?” Ran asks, hopefully. “To me it seems fine. From where I stand. But it seemed fine the second time too. Maybe you just should draw a huge line with a pencil on the wall so you could see where you should hang it. Or you know what? Rindou will be fine without garland. He’ll live. It’s not like he knows we were gonna hang it.”

The silence on your end is scaring him. Is this stupid garland really so uneven? He steps in front of you and scrutinizes the wall. Everything is perfect. The colorful "Happy Birthday Rindou" written on the beige wall looks fine; the tape is not visible and every letter is as neat as it could be. When the silence stretches, he groans and grabs hold of the ladder. The metal is warm under his palms from how long he has been holding it.

“Ran.” He feels your lovely hands and you pressed to him before he registers you calling his name. All frustration and tiredness are exterminated from him, thrown out of the window the second you open your mouth.

"Mhm?"

The softness of your body melts into his existence and he cranes his neck at the angle where he can see you.

Your eyes are already waiting for him and he is met with so much tenderness and endearment and fondness he resists the urge to kiss you and it’s the worst fight he’s ever been into.

His body is bruised and ugly. He is losing.

“The garland is fine.”

“Is it?” The sudden eagerness in his voice makes you giggle. He giggles with you. “I expect the same garland for my birthday. You’ve got to put Rin through the same shit as me.”

“Do you want us to rent you a house too?”

He hums, thinking of an answer. His fingers slip between yours. “Yeah. Two floors, and I want the backyard facing the ocean. A pool is a must, too. Oh! And the guest list? I’ll make it myself. Rin would invite people I dislike just to annoy me.”

“Deal.” A wet touch of your lips encourages shivers. His eyelids tremble as he closes his eyes, losing himself in your affection. You press another kiss under his ear and then on his jaw, only to move to his cheeks, and then to the corner of his lips.

His only instinct is to follow you, lean into you, reach out to you and for a second his lips are on yours, but you move away and he curses. Turning around, Ran pushes you towards the huge oak table and you comply, jumping on it. Your legs are spread for him and yet you push him away when he grabs the hem of your shirt.

Your palm on his chest he hopes you can feel how his heart reacts to you. And as if you do - or maybe it’s something else, Ran hopes it’s something else, something sweet and precious where you can’t deny him - your open palm turns into fist and you bring him closer. You pepper his face with small kisses and it’s embarrassing for him to think how happy he gets, how you can ask of him anything now and he will do it. Be it steading the ladder for you or bringing you hot gazing stars from outer space.

“You are so lovely, Ran.”

Oh God.

“Anything for you. Lovely, gentle, harsh, rude… yours. However, you'll want me.”

There’s a known firefly in your eyes and he holds your face. At this point you are just staring at each other, searching for answers or commuting without words. Or maybe both. “Yeah. I like it all. Remember? I’ve told you before.” “Say it again, then. I like hearing it.” And you do. I like you. I like you. I accept you, Ran. I like you. I like you. I like you.

Pink looks pretty on you and Ran knows it.

You sway with his younger brother in the middle of the huge living room of the rented house for which Ran paid a bit too much [but you were so adamant it was perfect and Rindou would absolutely love it so he couldn’t say no] and laugh. Your head thrown back, you hold hands with Rindou as he swirls you around, careful to not let go of you.

You are the centre of this party and Ran’s attention.

The beer in his cup is still cold and he sips on it watching you having the time of your life celebrating the existence of his little brother. The fact that you so dearly love and care for Rindou touches Ran’s heart more than it should, but it does and it warms the world around him. He tries to remember if someone from his own friends has this much love for him as you do for Rindou and suddenly he can’t name a single one. It’s a moment of loneliness and fear. Ran can deal with both, because he will always have Rin and Rin will always have you. So it’s fine. Everything is fine and the party goes smoothly just like you planned it. There’s enough food and alcohol and people who are here are the ones Rindou is happy to see. All his previous birthdays - and Ran’s too - they celebrated at clubs. Tones of booz, weed and girls never made Rindou smile as brightly as he did through the whole evening and well into the night. There was something alluring in intimacy that Ran never felt or noticed before and that he waited all his life to learn through you.

So he drinks a bit more and watches you dance in your pink croco trousers and he knows you look unbelievably good. So good all he wants now is to get you in his car and drive you far far far away where no one could take you from him. For good measure he’ll lock you in the house [of his heart]. The keys will be thrown away with eyes closed so even he wouldn’t know where to look for them. No escape from this dream land of his. Forever imprisoned the two of you.

It gets hard to breathe as if Ran is the one to dance and laugh. Leaving his unfinished beer on the table, Ran goes outside. He catches Kakucho’s questioning gaze on him, but mouths a simple ‘i am fine’ and then he is all alone again.

It’s chilly outside. The night sky is clouded and no stars can be seen from the porch. Two houses down there’s another party. Music travels this short distance, but as if there’s an invisible divider, it stops exactly in the middle and never touches their own music. Ran can clearly hear both songs and this alone creates a peculiar sense of detachment. It’s like he is here and then it’s like he never was and never would be. Much to his displeasure it’s not you who finds him there. He didn’t even know he was waiting for you until viscous regret filled his lungs and the disappointment rested in his chest. He might have been scowling because the girl before him looked, if not scared, confused for sure.

“Don’t say you don’t remember me.” The girl is beautiful, and Ran thinks he saw her at your university. She steps closer and brings her face right to his, her brown eyes waiting for recognition, but when even proximity doesn’t ring a bell, she pouts. “What they say about you is right. You never called me back.”

Oh. That’s why she looked familiar. Ran has slept with her. He gives her a dead stare, not in the mood to make a joke out of it. He turns his back on her. “Well, I never call anyone back. It’s always a one-time thing.”

He expects the girl to be offended or for the poison of humiliation to spread through her veins, but obviously, none of it happens. Instead, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and leans on the wooden rails, overlooking the empty night street. “It’s stupid, but I thought I might be good enough for you to change your mind,” the girl giggles. She lights a cigarette for herself and doesn’t offer one to Ran. “But you don’t even remember me. You don’t, do you?”

“No. I don’t.” There’s no point in lying, and Ran doesn’t care if he hurts her. She’s been hurt before and she will be after this insignificant encounter.

“Do you wanna fuck now?” The answer is immediate and it’s the same as before. “No. I don’t.”

“Not with me?” Lit cigarette between her fingers stands out on a stormy night sky.

“No. Not with you.”

The cloud of smoke escapes the girl's mouth and Ran stares at it for a bit, trying to remember how it tasted when he kissed her. But he can’t. It’s not her mouth that he sees, but an empty place. It’s scary.

You and your crucifying rule that broke his bones everytime he was with you made kisses mean a lot and dissolved those that he shared before into drivel. They didn’t mean anything.

Ran never remembered his first kiss.

He guesses it happened when he was thirteen with a girl that was much older. It probably was a bet.

The butt of the cigarette with dark stains from the girl’s lipstick is pressed against the wooden floor. The light dies. “You look awfully sick with love, Ran Haitani. It does suit you, though. Your eyes look more alive. Usually, they were like you just murdered someone. It’s scary.”

Fat raindrops hit the pavement and soon the world around is speaking. Ran can’t tell what it’s trying to say, but his heart tells him it is a premonition. A little prophecy, because what is born meaningless has a tendency to die as the most important thing.

But of course, there are exceptions.

There are memories, people and webs that were and always would have the dearest place in Ran’s heart. There is you and there was Aoki Ogura and now next to him is the girl he had slept with once and doesn’t even remember. There is the smell of rain and a few seconds ago there was a lit cigarette, the fire of it now dead. It’s a birthday party of his little brother, his only family, and it’s a day when Ran realises some things aren’t our choices, but are chosen for us.

No matter how much we want, we can't change them, because just for once it didn’t happen because of us, but because of who we are. The rain intensifies. Chills creep under Ran’s thin grey blouse. Are your pink trousers and white tee keeping you warm enough? He desperately needs to know. Now.

“What’s your name?” Ran is at the door. His hand lies on the handle.

The girl raises her hands in the air, gasping. She pretends to be offended. In reality, she isn’t. There’s not a tinge of sadness in her. “It’s Hatsu Ikazuchi.”

The beginning of thunder. How fortunate. How coincidentally amusing and pretty. Life is full of wonders. The door behind Ran softly closes. Rain and storms stay on the other side.

xiv.

The second Rindou accidentally learns about the party, he knows it was your idea.

When he steps out of the car and sees the prettiest house he knows it was you who chose it. The small hidden alley where it stands and green pots with pink flowers are definitely what made the cut for you. And then, when he enters the house and everyone screams happy birthday Rindou, and he shushes them so he can greet every single person there, he knows it was you who decided who should be invited.

It’s the same with the cake that you bring out to the living room singing-whispering his favourite song, instead of the classical happy birthday one. He knows it was you who ordered it and decided on the fillings. You hold it before him, a huge happy smile on your pretty face, and he closes his eyes to make a wish before he blows off the candles. Ran stands behind you, his chin on your shoulder watching his brother, but Rindou barely notices this unusual proximity. He only sees the fairy lights and decorations.

He knows it was all your doings too.

He is happy and he is loved and he drowns in your love the whole evening and well into the night.

He only loses you right after the clock strikes two when Haruchiyo finds him and urges him to smoke. They share a joint on the second floor in the bathroom. And even in the state Rindou is in now, he thinks about you. How you’d be mad if you were to find them smoking in this enclosed space without a window. How you’d scold them like you always do and say that weed smells disgusting. How you’d still slide down the door and sit on cold tiles with them, breathing smoke from it into your lungs, intoxicating yourself to the maximum. You’d laugh and smile looking at them both, your best friends, and in those moments everything in the world would be right.

High as kite - because it’s a special birthday joint, claims Haruchiyo - from half of the cigarette and drunk on God knows how many beers and two cocktails with an unknowing mix of alcohol in each, Rindou stumbles down the stairs. Haruchiyo follows suit. With mouths dry as parchment they go into the kitchen where they gulp down two bottles of water, one and a half litre each.

The thirst subsides and they giggle, finding the situation funny. The party carries on and so does the fun. Behind the veil of smoke and fog and fun everything [and everyone] seems brighter - happier - than they really are. Weed is better than alcohol, but both of it mixed together is a devastating cocktail of unknown feelings and emotions, so bright and positive, Rindou wants to stay in this superficial land forever.

But the effect will wear out with time and nothing but sadness and regret will stay. And when Rindou will wake up in the morning, he will be grumpy and untalkative and borderline aggressive, angry thoughts swarming inside his pounding head. He might throw up or he might not and when this state too will pass, for there is nothing permanent, he will wonder if sadness and hostility is all he has. This eats Rindou alive.

But there is still time till this terrifying clarity.

For now everything is blurry. And he is happy. He allows himself to be.

A very gracious birthday present.

Together, with Haruchiyo they find you in the company of Senju, Ran and his friends. In the midst of loud music and the smell of alcohol, your small circle gives the impression of a cold calm island, warm to its habitants and cold to intruders. There’s an effortless conversation that flows between you all. He has no idea what it is you are talking about, but it must be something very interesting to each of you, because your eyes sparkle and everyone speaks almost at the same time, contributing to the discussion.

A deep gut feeling of being unwanted washes over him and Rindou’s body is sticky, clothes too close to skin. Blood pumps loudly in his head and for a second or two all he hears is a stretching white noise. It calls out for him, forms a message, something so important and crucial, but it disappears before Rindou can decipher the meaning behind its static nature. And then, his brain overwhelmed and tired, his being happy and loved, he thinks that maybe some things aren’t worth reading into. Maybe it all happens just because and maybe nothing has any sacred meaning.

Maybe living in the absence of all is easier and maybe that’s what Rindou chooses in the moment Senju spots them and waves her hand urging them to join your company.

“My favorite birthday boy!” You exclaim, stretching your hands toward him. He accepts your invitation and dives into your arms, stumbling over his unstable feet. He falls face down onto the sofa, and Senju, who had been sitting next to you, groans and moves to the floor. But she doesn’t say anything to him because today is his birthday, and he is allowed a little more than he usually is.

“Am I really your favourite?” Rindou asks, his tongue loose from the effects of alcohol. His head rests on your shoulder, and he tilts his head to take a good look at you. You are a bit drunk yourself. Your eyes are only half-opened, and you look undeniably sexy and warm. “Tell me the truth.”

You squint your eyes, pretending to think, and he whines at you, causing you to laugh. He is happy with himself because of that. He is even happier when you ruffle his hair and whisper to him, "You are. Even when you reek of weed and beer." You lick your lips before you continue, a bit more serious than before. "Even if you find yourself a pretty girl and dump me because she's going to be jealous of us."

"No one's gonna date us with you in the picture, baby. Honestly?" Haruchiyo chimes in. He sits on the floor next to Kakucho, opposite you. Only when you and Rindou turn your heads his way, your attention fully on him, does he continue speaking. "Even I feel jealous of you, and I'm a part of our threesome."

The interrogation on Rindou’s behalf falls short at that and you slump into scolding Haruchiyo for his poor choice of words to describe your friendship. You argue, as you usually do, because obviously to Haruchiyo the threesome sounds okay and he even claims he heard someone at university refer to your trio using it and he in fact is not the one who came up with it. At that you gasp and a sound too similar to a sad wolf howl comes out of your throat.

"Actually, you know what I always wanted to ask?" Interrupts Shion. He is taking the first long drag from his cigarette. The smell of smoke that hits Rindou’s nostrils almost immediately indicates that they are cherry-flavored. It's quite a strange choice on Shion's side, if you were to ask Rindou. "How did you all meet? You are super close. I’ve been looking at you today, and if Ran hadn’t told me before that you are seeing someone, I would’ve thought you are dating our birthday boy."

All attention has you as the centre and for a split moment Rindou is sober. All haze and blurriness swept away leaving the palace for stunning clarity. But he feels how tense your limp body gets and he sees his brother who sits at your feet with your left leg thrown over his shoulder, laying his head on your thigh. Ran smirks as he waits for your answer, but he knows his brother the best, so the sweet tender expectancy doesn’t go unnoticed. Nor does the gentle caressing of his fingers around your ankle.

“We actually met through Haru, who I knew because I am friends with Senju. We went to the same high school.”

Shion nods. He brings a bottle of sui-umeshu to his lips and, not taking his eyes away from you, takes a large sip. When he is done, the sweet liquor swallowed, he asks you, "Why is your boyfriend not here?"

"He isn't my boyfriend yet. We are still figuring it all out," you retort. You tilt your head to the side and playfully smile at Shion. "And just why are you so interested in him?"

“I am not interested in him. I am interested in you.”

"Oh," the smile is gone from your face and you stare at Shion as if you are seeing him for the very first time. "Thank you."

The rest of the night is spent almost quietly. You dance some more. You drink and Haruchiyo smokes again. This time with Senju on the damp porch. The rain that Rindou never acknowledged has stopped. The air now is cold and crispy. It finally feels like winter is just around the corner.

The golden light of sunrise adorns the living room, building an illusion of it being way more spacious and bigger than it really is. Rindou can barely stand on his own feet. He so desperately needs to go to bed and sleep until it’s well after noon. And yet, he comes to a halt when he hears your quiet laughing and Ran’s murmuring. Through the buzzing in his head he can’t hear what you are talking about, and even if he wants to eavesdrop, he won’t. He respects you and he respects his brother. He respects his loving touches and he respects your choice. So, he goes straight into the kitchen and the first thing he sees is not your blood splashed across your white t-shirt in bright stains, but Ran’s gentle moves when he wipes your face. Come to think of it, his brother was always like that around you. Curious and tender even in anger. The softness doesn’t evaporate from Ran when he looks up and sees his brother standing in the arc that connects the living room and kitchen.

"Did you get the nosebleed again?" The house is silent, so Rindou’s voice echoes through it like a bell in the middle of a field.

Somehow, Rindou imagines it’s sunny there in that field of his despite dark heavy clouds hanging low in the sky. It’s going to rain, but before it will, there will be a thunderstorm. This time Rindou is going to be there to see it.

“Yeah. Don’t worry though. I am just tired. That’s all.”

Contradiction arises in him and guilt fills his throat to the brim. He can’t say anything so he just stares at the white wet towel in Ran’s hands. Its twisted tip all red and pulpy. Behind you, on the beige plain wall, is a garland. It says “Happy Birthday Rindou”. He wants to take it home with him and put it under his bed, in his heart, to store it there forever as a reminder that someone cares for him. [Always will].

There are so many words and confessions he desires to share with you, but instead, he says, “I am going to sleep. Can we go for yakitori when I wake up? I just know I am gonna be starving.”

“Nankotsu or tebasaki?” Suddenly excited, you turn your head toward him.

“Both?” “Fuck, I love you so much, Rindou! You are the best!” “I know. I know. I love me too.”

“Okay you all enough with love. Let’s take your makeup off too, while I am at it. Now, look at me.” Without anything to say Rindou leaves. He goes upstairs and without taking a shower goes straight to his makeshift bed for today. He is sharing a room with Kakucho who is already asleep. His light snores break the solemnity of the room.

Undressed, in his boxers, Rindou comes up to the window that overlooks the neighbour's patio. Classic Japanese garden stares back at Rindou and he tries hard to remember when was the last time he saw one. He can’t. It’s a bit sad. He finds himself liking the moss, the rocks and those pretty wooden lanterns. Beauty is simple; he appreciates it.

At last, he closes the window, shutting curtains tight. Today was a good day. He felt loved and needed and cared for.

Rindou wishes every day was like this one, but then wouldn’t its significance be lost on him? Life is a contradiction and Rindou loves it too. Just for today he allows himself to.

xv.

Flowers bloom inside you when Ran’s hips meet yours and you moan into his shoulder, your teeth drawing blood from his skin there.

Arms limp around his neck, your body violently quivers and he, too vulnerable and high on his own orgasm, spreads his palms across your naked back, running them up and down. Mouth hungry on your skin he leaves open sloppy kisses across your neck. It does little to calm you down. It does nothing at all to subside the hunger and emotions you have for him in this moment [and always].

"Shit, I bit you. I am sorry," you say, your breath still hitched. You run a finger across the mark, wiping the blood that stains Ran’s perfectly smooth skin. "Didn't want anyone to hear us. Does it hurt?"

Tilting his head to the side, his palms on the small of your back, Ran inspects the damage. He winces, and in your blissfully tired state, you don’t pay attention to how fake that wince sounds or how unnaturally he grimaces when you touch the wound again. "It…"

He doesn’t have a chance to finish, because you run your fingers around the mark and bring your lips closer to it, pecking the red irritated skin there in an attempt to soothe the pain. Ran freezes. All jokes and teasing he intended to voice die.

He dies with them.

“Ran are you okay? Does it hurt that much? I kissed it because I thought it might lessen the pain. I probably only irritated it more. I am sorry. Let me go take a look if they have band aids in the bathroom.” You are still sitting on his lap with him inside of you and your legs still tremble, but now only lightly and you think you can stand up and walk the short distance to the en-suite bathroom. But when you lift yourself off him, Ran grips your hips so harshly you yelp.

You are confused. Lines on your forehead you look at him with a question in your eyes. Did you do something wrong? Was he repulsed by your spontaneous biting? Love is about questions and you drown in them. It’s fortunate that Ran holds you just where you should be held. “Don’t go. It doesn’t hurt at all. I haven’t even noticed you bit me until you said. I was just teasing you.”

In the silence that follows, each of you think of some distant places that never correlate with each other and yet even there you are together. In the comfortable familiarity and warmth of his body you doze off. Ran’s huge tattoo fades away with every drop of your eyelids; little butterflies landing on ink orchids. You swear you can smell their faint flowery aroma, but that simply can’t be true.

A lot of things can’t be true and yet you choose to believe in them.

"A girl today asked me to have sex with her, and I refused," Ran says after a while.

Sleepy, you place your chin on his chest, locking a gaze with him. Ran does have the prettiest eyes, you think. But instead, you ask him, "Was it Ikazuchi?"

His blonde brows coming together, he tries really hard to remember. So hard a deep wrinkle appears on his forehead. You raise your head and smoothe it, waiting for it to disappear. You don’t like seeing him troubled and now he looks like that whole encounter was unpleasant for him.

"I can’t remember," he says honestly, catching your hand when it wipes at his eyebrows. He brings it to his mouth and kisses your knuckles.

"Oh, it was her. I know," you giggle, a stray ray of bleak mid-autumn sun pecking at your face, causing you to squint as you squirm on top of Ran. He whines, and you press a hand over his mouth, whispering, "Ran, don’t do that! You’ll wake someone up."

You see him roll his eyes, and then it’s you who is screaming, because he holds you by your waist and flips you over, so that you are under him. "So much for 'Ran, don’t!'" He mimics your voice and intonation a bit too perfectly, and then he stops, and you can only imagine what makes him shut up. But he stares at you, his half-closed eyes forever young and full of longing. You can only guess what’s going on in his mind.

Bathed in morning sun and your love Ran looks exceptionally beautiful.

“What is it?”

There’s no hesitation in his reply. "You are pretty."

And there’s no hesitation when he brushes his lips against yours. His breath is warm and sweet and he is your new source of air, because altogether you stop to breathe and it’s him who inhales life in you. Like a little lamb before sacrifice you stare at him with wide eyes. So full of questions. So full of don’t you remember I told you not to kiss me before you feel something for me. If you ever feel something for me.

It’s a plea. It’s an incantation. It’s his chance; his doom and forgiveness.

“I should’ve done it before,” he mumbles. Lips on lips. He has been inside you a few moments ago and numerous times before that, but you swear he has never been this close. “Should’ve kissed you when I’ve seen you cry that day. Should’ve kissed you when you undid my hair before we went to sleep that very first night. Should’ve fucking known I liked you all this time.”

Salty sad tears draw pretty patterns on your face and you choke on sobs, too overwhelmed, too shocked and so desperately confused. All the thinking process in you comes to a halt - blame it on your tipsiness, tiredness or early hours of the morning - and you shake your head, hands reaching out to Ran, clutching onto him.

You are contradicting yourself and you know that. But you can’t think what’s more disappointing: that you are uncontrollable or that you don’t believe that Ran likes you. He is made of white lies. Always have been and yet you choose want need to trust him.

In the clouds of white sheets and duvets he rolls to his side and brings you closer. With one swift strong motion he throws your leg over his hip so even air can’t come between your bodies. He wipes at your face and the uncharacteristic patience and understanding he shows you, are enough for you to peck his lips. He smiles against them, into the kiss, and it’s sincere.

“Don’t want you to cry,” he whispers. “Especially over me. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Hand on your waist, Ran nuzzles up to you, his nose brushing over yours and you surrender.

You fall to pieces.

“Only wanted to say how I feel. Would’ve done it before if it wasn’t so hard to understand. Why when it’s real it’s so hard to realise you are in love with someone?”

Leaning your forehead on his, you sniffle, but you aren’t sad anymore and you don’t cry. It’s a light grey feeling that envelopes you and if it means that this is what Ran Haitani’s love feels like you are okay with it. You accept it.

"It wasn’t hard for me," you say, and Ran reclines back, taking you in, his head and heart full of you.

“What?” “I said it wasn’t hard for me to understand how I feel about you.” He grins then and he looks so boyish, so happy, so content your heart explodes, its broken fragments piercing through his chest to fill up cracks in him where nothing could before.

This time, when Ran kisses you, his fingers caressing your jaw, you respond to him. It’s shy and testing at first, but soon it gets sloppy and it’s wet and messy and lots of tongue. It’s so so so good you don’t need him to get you ready and you don’t need a lot of time to come undone again.

Again and again and again.

xvi.

It’s been weeks since Rindou’s birthday party and by the mouth pressed into thin line and grumpy hooded eyes that Rindou only has with Ran, he can tell that his brother has a lot of questions that burn him on the inside.

However Rindou doesn’t ask them and Ran would never feed his brother’s pride by responding to them before he was even interrogated. That it’s going to be an interrogation he doesn’t doubt for a split second. Glares and muttering Rindou provides Ran every time they are in the same room are enough to guess. It’s late November when Rindou finally snaps.

Ran is putting on his black boots he bought a few days ago in Harajuku after getting his hair done when the burning sensation on the back of his head intensifies. It’s a little after eight and he is worried he is going to be late to pick you up from the practice. Earlier today, you agreed to meet at nine thirty. If Rindou holds him for more than three minutes he won’t be there on time and while Ran is always late he hates to be late to you.

Dressed in all black - black hakama, black button up and black socks - Rindou reminds Ran of a kid who pretends he is into fashion, but can only mix and match black clothes and even that isn't given since Ran can clearly see that Rindou’s hakama is slightly darker than his t-shirt. He bites a smile, averting his eyes from Rindou so he won’t notice the playfulness that spills from him. Of course, Rindou does notice.

Of course, he groans and Ran can only imagine what names his little brother has called him inside his head.

"What don’t you like about my outfit this time?” Rindou spreads his hands across his freshly ironed clothes and places them on his hips. He looks down at himself, but Ran is sure that no matter how much he tries, he'll never understand. Finally, he raises his now angry eyes and looks at the smiling Ran. “Is it my pants?”

“No.”

“Then what is it? I can tell you think there’s something wrong with it.”

Orange sun paints their apartment in a pretty peach colour. It licks at Rindou’s blonde hair and he is even more handsome than he usually is. Ran looks at him, while he stands before him frustrated, angry and lost, and in this moment he knows he won’t ever forgive himself if he wrongs his younger brother. He doesn’t remember when Rindou became so big and how his shoulders are even broader than Ran’s are and he for sure missed a moment when Rindou started dating, but he will never forget this particular moment.

When Rindou is twenty and sunset kisses his existence.

“The hakama colour doesn’t match with the button up.”

“Oh.” Rindou's fingers circle around the collar of the blouse, and now he isn’t just lost, angry, and frustrated, but also self-conscious and lonely.

As an older brother Ran has - always had and always will - many responsibilities. To provide, to keep safe, to care and to love. To spare from the misery of unknowingness. Never to betray.

And that’s why, this time, Ran gives in. He kneels down to tie his left boot and answers a question that wasn’t asked but was thought. “Yes, I am going to see her, and then I’ll take her to eat whatever she wants today. We might take a walk right after dinner or go straight to 7-Eleven and buy her favorite pudding and that stupid pizza-flavored snack she likes so much. I’ve grown to like it too by now. It isn’t too bad. Anyway, when we are inside her apartment, I’ll start kissing her the second I close the door behind us, and we’ll probably take it to the shower, and after the shower, to her bed. If she doesn’t fall asleep immediately, we’ll eat, and in the morning…”

“Does she let you eat on her bed?”

Done with his laces, Ran raises up, he blinks at his brother, and a shit-eating grin spreads on his face. “Well, yes, she does. Always. Why?”

“Really?!” Under the circled tinted glasses, Rindou blinks a couple of times. “She gave me and Haruchiyo a lecture about how we can’t eat in bed. How are you supposed to sleep with crumbs under your asses? You absolutely shouldn’t eat in bed. Especially you, Rindou. You always spill the sauce.”

The imitation of your voice is pretty accurate. Down to the intonation and pauses you do when you are speaking and Ran can’t help, but laugh. His brother does know you well. It’s a pang in his heart. He can’t translate it into words.

“I guess she just likes you more than us,” concludes Rindou. He adjusts his glasses and points at the pile of shoes by the door, leaving no room for Ran to contradict. Rindou blurts out almost immediately, “YSL or Yamamoto boots? What do you think?”

They settle on the Japanese designer, because Ran claims the European vibe doesn’t really suit Rindou. He also doesn’t change the button-up and it’s been more than three minutes.

The sky is a deep blue, borderline black, when they enter Itabashi area. The roads are unusually empty for this time of the day and a few stars appear each time it darkens one shade more. Today the world is very beautiful and Ran hopes on his way back it still will be so you can see it yourself too. These floating lights, rich colours and street lamps with their alien light.

“I don’t think she likes me more, Rin,” Ran's voice breaks the absolute silence that reigns within the car. The engine of Ran’s Honda continues its song, undisturbed and infinite. “Our significance for her is different. And not on the scale of lesser to greater.”

Beside him in the passenger seat, Rindou stretches, his palms hitting the roof of the car. “Honestly? I could kinda tell you were always into each other. All this bickering, sneak glances, accidental touches. And you never once forgot her birthday in three years. Don’t know why I was so surprised she started to smell like you in the summer.”

“Smell like me?” Despite them being on the road Ran turns his head to the left and stares at his brother. “What does it even mean?” To that Rindou never responds. He shrugs as if he never said what he just said and Ran’s curiosity remains a hungry fox.

In less than twenty minutes they’ll reach you. They both wonder if you will wait for them outside and if not, who of them should come pick you up from the studio.

“Can we stay at our place today? We can invite Haru, Kaku and maybe Senju over? Would be nice to watch something and eat. I think the DVD rental next to us should be still open.”

Loneliness, myriads of sparkling little fireflies, illuminate the space between Ran and Rindou, and Ran bumps his brother on the shoulder with his fist, playfully but not too strongly. He communicates to him, "I am always here. I always will be." Then he suggests, “Of course. Shoot them a message. Say the food is on us, but if they want to drink something, they should bring it themselves.”

A huge toothy smile appears on Rindou’s face and that’s how Ran knows his brother understands that love is never divided between people. It’s shared and fed in equal amounts. Just differently.

“Oh. And mention that if anyone is to crash at our place they might be ready to hear a few whimpers here and there.”

With his eyes already on the phone, fingers typing away messages to their friends, Rindou raises his head and gives his brother a disgusted look. "What?"

“Your friend is awfully loud in bed. That’s what I am saying.”

“Gross. Stop the car.” Ran laughs and when he catches Rindou’s smiling, shaking his head in a what-a-bastard way, he laughs some more. The firefly of loneliness is dead by now.

More cars pass them on the highway and nothing feels real.

xvii.

The park near their house is not that grand as the park you always stop by after Ryou’s parties, but it has a small square playground and that’s all you need.

Three bags with snacks and cup noodles are forgotten on the bench. Half of the goods lay scattered on the ground, but neither you or Rindou pay much attention to it. You probably haven’t even noticed it yet. Too busy laughing and enjoying yourself.

It was - of course - your idea to stop by and play. Just for a little, you said, tugging Rindou by the sleeve of his black puffer. Inside the park it’s dark. The lit lamps here and there are the bonbori ones and while they already aren’t the brightest, the shadows of trees absorb whatever lights they illuminate. If Rindou wasn’t Rindou he would find this place creepy. The desertness of it due to the hour only intensifies the feeling.

But you are happy before him as you sit on the swings swaying back and forth. You laugh loudly and when he drugs you by your waist to the roundabout you scream at him to set you free so loud people in houses nearby might think he wants to murder you. None calls the police though or comes outside so in your wail they might have heard merriness, the same Rindou did. They probably think it’s teenagers in love fooling around.

But you are not teenagers and you aren’t in love. And that’s what you tell Rindou when you push him into the huge metal circle with holes in it. He does his best to imagine what child game this surrealistic installation serves, but nothing comes to mind.

"Rindou, I am sorry," your whisper echoes inside the metal walls like an arrow. "I should have told you from the beginning."

"It's alright," he murmurs back instantly. It should be the other way around, you comforting him, but it is not.

"I just think I really, really, really love Ran, and that's why I couldn't tell you."

The confession sits heavy on both of you and the tension made of substantial marine ropes hangs around your necks. In the dark Rindou can’t see you, but he can imagine you playing with your fingers or biting your cheek. Too full of emotions and pregnant with spilled secrets. He knows you too well and you know him well too, so when he outstretches his arm and his hand falls into your, you both giggle.

“Like I feel bad for not telling you, but I couldn’t help it. He is your brother. I was too shy to tell you. I still am.”

"You aren't making any sense," he puffs, suddenly sounding a bit angry or maybe tired. Perhaps both. "One second you are declaring you love my brother, and then you say you are bashful about it. It doesn't make any sense." Your hold around his fingers tightens, and he throws his head back, leaning against the cold metal. It would be good to feel its bitter licks against his naked skin, to sober up, jolt back to you, away from his illusions and disappointments. But then, he thinks, even if you threw him into cold Antarctic waters, with your gentle hand in his, he could never be cold. That's why he softly adds, "And I've already told you. It's alright. No matter how I feel about it."

"And how do you feel about it, Rindou?" Instead of sounding bitter or disappointed or angry, you sound mellow and kind. You sound like everything you shouldn't. "I want to know."

When he speaks, it's not what you wanted to hear, but that's all he could say to you now. Or ever. "Ran is my brother, and if something happens, it's him I am going to choose. I want you to know that."

The last sentence is a regretful hum. Barely audible, but still evident. He clutches his eyes shut and holds his breath. What he said to you hurts him badly enough to have them closed forever and he supposes it’s painful for you too. He hopes it doesn’t hurt you as much as it does him. And he is glad it’s really dark in here so you can’t see his shattered heart.

In an ideal world you’d run away from him or at least be angry. You really should be. He gave you all the reasons too. He desperately wishes for your fury so it eases his turmoils - so he can be mad at you too - but it never comes. Instead, you fall in his arms and wrap your hands around his shoulders. You breathe him in and smile into his neck. This world, this version of you and him, and everything you are are too far from ideal. He loves it too. He loves you.

“I know that. And I know that you know that it’s okay. I’ll never blame you for choosing Ran and I’ll never leave your side. It’s not even a choice, Rindou. He is literally your brother. Your other half and your only family.”

“You feel like family too.”

The walk back to their apartment is mostly silent. Hand in hand, you stroll through the dark alleys of Roppongi that you both know so well, each of you thinking about each other. But thoughts can’t hurt anymore. Not after that small significant moment in the kids playground. Rindou can’t exactly pinpoint what happened, but something did. Was it what you said? Was it what he said? Or perhaps it’s the hug or clasped hands that took the weight from his heart away and glued its torn pieces back together.

And by the time you are actually inside the apartment, when everyone is already there and waiting for you, Rindou is calm and the part that constantly worried and kept him high on his toes is gone, he doesn’t even remember what it was like to live with it. It’s like he is another person, reborn and better. Still the same Rindou just maybe a tiny bit freer and the sparks in his eyes are shining with new light, new colour, not the absence of it.

So, when you enter the apartment and you take your shoes off and Ran who meets you by the door notices blood stains on your white socks [a never ending battle between new shoes and dancers] and he scolds you for not telling him earlier that your feet hurt while scooping you away, Rindou doesn’t worry. Nor for your feet. Nor for the ease with which you follow his older brother to the bathroom. Instead, he joins Haruchiyo and Senju who are already there in the living room. Together, they sort out the food you got in the 7-Eleven. For the most part, it’s silent, the TV is off and the door to the bathroom remains open. Rindou can’t see you and neither can Haru or Senju, but they hear you just fine. They hear the water running down and how patiently Ran instructs you to put your feet with socks on in the warm water. He then explains you how they mother and later he himself used to do the same to Rindou when he was little and his new pair of shoes would hurt him so bad, blisters became bloody mess that stuck to fabric of his socks and unless you wanted little Rindou to scream and cry and tear the skin and meat off him, you’d need to soak his feet in the warm water. This way it won’t hurt at all and Ran, assures you, he never wants you to hurt at all.

In the middle of this conversation Ran also points out that when Rindou was really small he always had socks with Super Mario print on them and if they were ruined for good, he would cry so hard, you’d think someone had died. To that Rindou rolls his eyes and Haru openly laughs, mouthing a silent really? And when Rindou nods, Haru laughs some more and shakes his head in pure amusement. If he or Senju catch on to something they don’t show it or maybe they knew all along, reading into sudden tenderness between you and Ran quicker than Rindou had. At this point, it’s all in the past. He doesn’t care.

The indifference remains when Ran makes you take a shower and dresses you in his clothes. His brother stays the same and you despite looking too adorable in Ran’s old loose black t-shirt, too are the same you were before. You still bite your cheek and you still sit between Rindou and Haruchiyo, leaning your head against Haru’s shoulder.

And yet, the stoic callousness Rindou has been experiencing through the whole evening, evaporates when Ran finds you sitting on the floor by the ceiling to floor window. The white letters that form actors and crew names flow inside the screen of their Panasonic Viera and the light in the room hasn’t been turned on yet. The boxes of instant ramen are left on the floor around the sofa and armchair. The air still smells like chicken and miso. Next to him Haru stretches in his place and yawns. Rindou is too exhausted - mentally and physically equally - but he doesn’t want to go to sleep yet. Today was different, but pleasant all the same. He doesn’t want this day to end. That’s why when Shion, who came along with Kakucho just after you were done with your shower, starts his usual post-movie banter about the hidden philosophy behind the story you just watched, Rindou happily joins, effortlessly lurking into the conversation. It’s then, in the middle of the heated argument that Rindou tries to justify his judging of the poor choice that the main character made in favour of her lover other than her career that he finally takes in consideration the vacant place to his left. He wanted to ask you what you think, what would’ve you done if you were to choose between your dream job and your boyfriend.

But you aren’t beside him and Rindou hadn’t noticed when you disappeared or why.

The confusion on his face must be evident because Kakucho who sits opposite him grins and with his chin points at something behind Rindou’s back. He doesn’t really need to turn his head and see for himself what’s going on. Kakucho’s happy mischievous eyes tell him all there’s to know.

But he does turn and he does see you and Ran talking in low voices in front of the dark night and myriads of small lights of someone else’s lives. The whole room falls silent then and in this short pause Rindou remembers how you once told him that those windows are your favourite place to be in their apartment.

It’s like you are alone in this wild wild world, but never lonely. Just how many people live in Tokyo. Isn’t it crazy we are part of them? Do you think they think about us too sometimes?

You must be telling Ran exactly the same thing or something along those lines you shared with Rindou years ago. His eyes shift into two slits and he smiles at you. Softly. Fondly. Lovingly. His hand rises to your face, caressing it gently, thumbs ghosting over your jaw. The closing credits end and the TV blazes with white colour so bright it lights up the whole living room and bits of kitchen. But no one seems to care. Everyone watches Ran leaning into you and planting a kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and familiar. It holds something sacred that no one in the room even after witnessing it would understand. It’s beyond everyone.

"You mean to tell me that when I asked for her number and Ran told me she’s seeing someone, that someone was him?" Fully confused, a cloud settles over Shion’s scrunched face. "What a fucking bastard. He should have just told me she was his."

At that, Kakucho laughs and shoves his elbow between Shion’s ribs, then winks at Rindou whose cheeks are now burning red. “Some things aren’t that easy to voice, Shi. Especially when it comes to love. It’s not like Ran would’ve come up to us for love advice. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Shion hums in agreement, still seemingly perplexed at the sudden revelation. It’s not clear whether he even understood Kakucho’s comment.

“And besides, you'd be a moron to think that Ran wasn’t seeing someone,” Kakucho adds, resting his head against the back of the love seat armchair. He closes his sly eyes and bites his lower lip to hide a smile.

“Why is that?” Shion asks, obviously believing that "the moron" comment was directed at him. He turns his head to the left, looking at Kakucho, who cracks his right eye open. The playful smirk is still on Kakucho's lips.

“Because when that little bimbo girl that Ran was going crazy about made a move on him in the club, he rejected her.”

“Which girl? When?” It's clear that Shion doesn't remember the incident, and neither do Rindou, Haruchiyo, or Senju. They all eagerly wait for Kakucho's explanation, but he remains silent.

The tease that he is, he only opens his mouth after finishing his can of Coca-Cola.

“I don’t remember her name, but I think it was written with the kanji for 'blue.' She kept mentioning it to Ran. Like, 'Don’t you think it’s pretty? Don’t you like it? You said you liked it before,'” it's evident that reminiscing about this is quite painful for Kakucho, and Rindou genuinely pities him. He hates Ran's fickleness. He hates Aoki Ogura even more, even if she was never one of the girls he slept with.

That it’s her Kakucho is speaking about Rindou has no doubts whatsoever.

“Oh, well. It’s not like Ran had ever liked a decent girl. They were always so fucking annoying. Remember the one that barged into the classroom for him to talk things out?”

Down the memory lane they go, and Rindou barely listens to them anymore. There’s nothing new for him to hear. He too became a victim of Ran’s romantic encounters. [If you can call them as such, because besides sleeping once and never again, Ran and those girls had literally nothing going on].

“Our baby isn’t annoying,” eyes lidded from tiredness Haruchiyo whines, invisibly tugging Rindou by the hair out from his thoughts. Kakucho and Shion too turn at him, slight surprise on their face and Haruchiyo groans seemingly disturbed that he would need to elaborate. “My baby isn’t annoying or something. She is the best and Ran actually really really really likes her. So don’t say he never liked a decent girl, cause my baby is the best and Ran loves her very much.”

The trip in Haruchiyo words is intentional and that’s how everyone knows he is being sincere. No one argues and Rindou pats his shoulder, agreeing.

You are the very best.

And, yes, his brother likes you a lot. Loves, even.

xviii.

This January is awfully rainy and Haruchiyo thinks it fucking sucks.

Not because of the dampness and the cold, but because he can’t light a cigarette outside on the campus and instead needs to smoke in the clamped smelly toilets. Observing the rain, he actually likes it since he’s been a little kid, from the circled window adds little to the pleasure of inhaling the fog into his lungs.

At this point he might as well give up on smoking.

In slow deliberate motions he pulls the pack out of his trousers and cracks it open counting the cigarettes. He places a bet that if it’s more than seven he won’t give up and if it’s less than that then maybe his smoker habit will end now.

Eleven cigarettes look back at him and he smiles, kisses the pack and slips it back into the pocket.

Today is his lucky day.

“Knew I’d find you in here.” Across the bathroom scrawls a harsh slap of the door and Rindou barges in. His blonde hair disheveled and wet from the rain. He doesn’t need to tell him that he’s been outside a mere second ago. There’s a grave coldness from his damp coat and his heart. Haruchiyo squints his eyes and decides, almost certain, that you two haven’t talked yet.

“I assume you haven’t talked yet,” as always straightforward Haruchiyo doesn’t wait for Rindou to bring up the topic.

He dives in without a single pint of hesitation. He cocks his head and laughs when Rindou shakes his head an affirmative ‘no’.

In between those two weeks you haven’t spoken with one another, it seems like nothing much really changed. When it comes to you Rindou still loses his ability to speak coherently. He still lowers his head down and looks at the floor. This time he also steals a cigarette from Haruchiyo’s “Hope”. The irony in seeing Rindou clutching to a literal hope in his hands would be funny, if this irony wasn’t a suffocating pool of your tears and sour expression.

So he doesn’t laugh. Haruchiyo suffocates.

For just a little while he needs to talk about something else and that’s why he recites to Rindou who now sits on the low windowsill about the bet he had earlier with the cigarettes. Any other day, they would laugh at it so hard and Rindou would tease him so badly, the back of their throats would hurt them from saying too much and talking too loudly. But not now.

Now Rindou just cracks a smirk and crashes the cigarette between his fingers. The white paper snapping in two.

Then, he is back to you. [Like always.]

“Is she alright?” Is all he asks.

Any other day Haruchiyo would tease him, but not today. Not now when his best friend is grayer than the clouds outside in the sky.

“Caught her crying yesterday while she was making us tonkatsu. Said she’s fine and it’s just onion.”

“There wasn’t any onion?”

“Bingo,” Haruchiyo puts the cigarette out, pressing its flame against the white wall. There’s quite a few fading black spots of the same size around the surface indicating he’s been here before.

“I miss her,” the confession slips out of Rindou’s mouth effortlessly and easily, but the dead weight in his chest doesn’t lessen. It hurts all the same. “I can’t talk to her though. I mean I am totally on Ran’s side. How could she believe her out of all people? I swear if that little bitch told me she fucked Ran I would’ve never believer her.”

And that’s a lie and they both know it.

“She haven’t told her she fucked Ran. She’s been whispering about it with Misa when my baby was there practising. She made sure she heard that and then she added he called her little love while he was balls deep inside her. Of course it hurt. Fictional or not.”

Rindou sighs, banging his head against the window, drops of rain chaotically sliding down. “No doubt, but Ran told me nothing of the sort happened. Besides, he hasn't seen Aoki in a while. Ran might be Ran, but this is not a thing he would do.” “Then, he should’ve explained himself properly,” Haruchiyo retorts, his smart eyes peering into Rindou. “One text and no visits screams to me as a lack of interest.” “He is just too prideful and it’s not like it’s easy on him too. All he does is sleep, eating and beating the shit out of me. Yesterday he snapped because I put soya sauce in the fridge and apparently you don’t store it there. There’s a cupboard for it,” the mocking comes out perfectly and Haruchiyo cracks a smile. He spots a light purple colour he hasn’t noticed before on Rindou's cheek and presses his lip into the thin line. Smile evaporating from his face. Again, it’s gloomy. “You know, Haru, I might try to talk to her on the day of the showcase. I am quite positive Ran might come around by then too. We can go celebrate it at Shabuan then. Yeah. That’s what we do.” Your showcase is five days from now and Haruchiyo doubts much will change and yet he hopes. And so he nods, gathers his things from the floor and hugging Rindou by the shoulders leads him to the dining hall. After smoking he is always hungry.

Just a day before your grand performance Haruchiyo stops by your apartment and spends the night.

All you do is talk and it’s light and enjoyable and for the first time this month his heart stings a pretty pain. And that’s why, desping knowing, it’s wrong and the time is not right [but when is it right?] he mentions that Rindou is coming tomorrow to see you.

The brief glint of joy that lights up your eyes doesn’t escape him. But it’s there for a mere second and then you are you again. Without Rindou or Ran in your life.

“Tell him to stay in the back then. He would distract me with his stupid face and I want everything to go smoothly tomorrow,” he knows you are only half joking and he makes a point to actually hold Rindou at the back. But then it won’t do any good, because you’ll stumble upon him in the crowd anyway. You two could never escape each other and Haruchiyo feels slightly jealous. Then, you add, in a whisper. “It might be my last year at the university after all.”

It’s a slip up on your side because your eyes go wide and you stare at him and then hurriedly you sprint to the bathroom and stay there for seventeen minutes and when you come out you say you are going to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day after all.

Patient and sweet, Haruchiyo nods and takes a step forward, lurching you into a big hug. He kisses the crown of your head and feels you tremble in his arms. You might think he is someone else, but he is not, and he leans back, looking at you with a genuine kind smile that screams at you you are home and whatever you do I’m right here.

He knows he doesn’t need to say anything and yet he does. “Whatever you do or say it’s right to me. If you want to drop out then be it. If you want to switch majors or change universities be it. Mhm? Now, go rest and do your best tomorrow. I'll be right there and so will be Rin.”

You nod at him and disappear to your bedroom. Back in time, you would always share the bed, but today there’s a pillow and a blanket on the sofa and it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been with Ran and yet you still have his claim over you.

Hands on his tummy Haruchiyo lies on your sofa. Green plant with wide leaves tickles his feet and he stands up to move it aside. He wonders if even one night Ran spent on his couch and he laughs to himself at this absurd thought.

Of course not. Ran’s place is by your side. Body is made of muscles, flesh and skin, Haruchiyo thinks, blood and bones. Hair and nails.

But not yours.

Yours is made of Ran touches and his presence. His sweet words and loving stares.

It probably eats you alive on the nights when he is not with you. On those days you are restless and tired and lonely and your body is burning and your mind is tortured. On those days you think, you think, you think and there’s no end to it. No salvation and no easiness. No ice pressed to the wound. Nothing. Just you and black absence of Ran and what he is.

Today is such a day and it hurts you and Haruchiyo drowns in your pain as nothing more exists in your small apartment in Nippori.

On the day of the showcase it’s snowing. The world is white and very beautiful.

Despite it being awfully cold Haruchiyo is only wearing a thin leather jacket Senju got him for his eighteenth birthday years ago. It’s his favourite. Under it is a thick navy sweater. This too is a gift, but from you. A spontaneous one. You said to him you got it because it reminded you of him. How and why you associated it with him is a mystery. He never asked you. But he likes it no less than the leather jacket.

He is wearing them both today.

When Rindou comes in, cheeks red from cold and hair messy from running down the hall, he is afraid he missed your performance.

“The road was so fucking slippery and Ran wasn’t home so I used my Kawasaki to get here,” Rindou explains in a hushed whisper.

“Does Ran know today is the showcase day?”

Before replying, Rindou rolls his eyes. The question is a bit stupid, Haruchiyo agrees. Ran knows everything about you. “Of course he does. And I told him about the dinner too, but he hasn’t said a thing back which is a good sign. He might actually come. I was hoping he would be here already, but I guess you haven’t seen him.”

Haruchiyo shakes his head. He hasn’t seen Ran here and when he parked his own Kawasaki - a model just below Rindou’s - he didn't see Ran’s car everywhere. Not that he looked specifically for it so it might be that he just hadn’t noticed it.

The conversation between them is cut short, because you appear on the stage. There’s no music yet. Just a red draped curtain behind you and a circle of light in which you stand. All eyes are on you, but it seems like no one notices the slight shaking of your right hand that is raised in the air. Nor do they see your wobbly legs.

The music plays and you start to dance. This time, unlike last year, you don’t have a costume on. It’s your usual practising attire that you wear. A leotard and shorts. And Haruchiyo wonders if it’s meant to be that way. He squints his eyes and tries to convey what your dance is about, but he can’t understand a thing. It confuses him because never before did that ever happen.

Haruchiyo blinks and turns to Rindou. [He believes Rindou always understood you better. Which isn’t true at all. He just tries harder.]

“What the fuck is going on?” Is all he says.

“She’s hurting. Physically. Something is hurting her, but… It’s her feet. Shit! Haru, we need to stop it. She’s hurting herself.”

The broken clock inside Haruchiyo clicks and all the gears fall into their right place. For once he gets it. The strange outfit, the mannerism, the simplicity of it all and the absence of everything. The blood on your feet and wet stains you leave after yourself.

In the second row someone is sick. The small girlish voice shouts something that couldn't be heard under the weight of your performance. No one can tear their eyes away from you and even Rindou who was so eager to help you stays frozen to the place.

Cruelty and violence are always marvelling. It’s in their ugly beauty that people find themselves.

It ends as quickly as it started.

The girl from the second row marshes through the open door to the safety of the halls and Haruchiyo recognizes in her Aoki Ogura. He notices her crying red face, but does nothing to stop her. There’s guilt evident in her scared eyes and Haruchiyo hopes she suffocates in it. The last thing he hears from her is her throwing up somewhere down the corridor. He wonders if she’s embarrassed. For what she did to you and for the pool of acid that somebody will clear up for her lately.

The light is on and the music is off when you take your dance shoes off and shake them in the air. The broken glass and razors waterfall to the floor and you smile widely. Almost insanely. Your mouth quivers as if you want to say something, but at last you don’t. You place your shoes soaked with blood in the middle of the stage and bow. Then you leave. Then Rindou takes off and latches himself onto the dean of the Univercity. His beige coat covers them both as he strikes the old man in the face. Once. Twice. Thrice. No one is stopping him.

Everyone is still staring at your shoes.

The night is dark and the snow is still falling when Haruchiyo finds you splayed out on the asphalt in the middle of the parking lot.

For a mere moment he stops and he feels like the whole world stops too. It’s silent as he paints the image of you laying on the ground with a thin white veil hugging your body that reminds him too much of cerements.

The image is sorrowful and it’s beautiful. Like you, this night and bloody snow.

Your wounds are still open and bleeding.

“What on Earth were you thinking?” As always Haruchiyo isn’t harsh or reprimanding you.

He isn’t Rindou to scold you for your stupidities and he isn’t Ran to worry about you more than he needs to just because you are you. Haruchiyo loves you in a special way where he doesn’t try much, but gives you everything anyway.

“I just wanted them to see what I am,” you utter, cracking your eyes open. “Just wanted them to know I am enough. No glass or razors can stop me.” There’s something else you aren’t saying, but Haruchiyo knows what it is already. He kneels down to you and a smile on his face matches yours. Tired, but triumphant.

“Art is a beautiful form of expression, isn’t it?” The question is rhetoric and he isn’t expecting you to answer him so he takes a deep breath and takes your hand in his. A mere reassurance and everything beyond it. “Now, let’s get you to the hospital. Gotta make sure you are okay.” ‘Thank you, Haru.”

“Anytime, love.” The night is dark and beautiful and full of light that shines right through you and those you care about.

Since early childhood Haruchiyo hated hospitals.

He hated the lethargic smell, the richness of white colour everywhere and apologetic gazes of the stuff. Blunt himself he couldn’t stand the half-said truth and insincere apologies. He avoided hospitals like plague. And maybe if Rindou wasn’t so occupied with getting his anger out on the dean, he wouldn’t have taken you there himself, instead handing this task to Rindou.

But here he is. An hour later with you submitted and Rindou in the emergency care getting his broken nose checked. Doctors said he might need a cast. Haruchiyo can barely picture Rindou with a white cast across his face, but he laughs nonetheless. He doubts it will cut the girls off Rindou though. The last time he got into a fight - on your behalf again - and had bruises all over his face, every single girl at university had fallen in love with him. Thus, if they weren’t in love with him before.

Haitani curse.

So, Haruchiyo really really really doubts the cast will scare anyone.

More time passes and then Rindou joins him in the waiting area. Without cast, but with a plaster across his handsome face. Haruchiyo grins at the sight and Rindou elbows him between his ribs. Not hard. Playfully.

All the anger gone from his being.

As they wait for the news on your condition they stay silent. Each thinking of you, but probably in very different contexts. It’s only fair as you were never the same for them. Stagnancy and constancy were never your forte. You are the best at evolving, moving and… dancing.

The doctor leads them both to your appointed room. He is a handsome male in his early thirties and he is very to the point when he says that you will be okay and that they cleaned your wounds and bandaged them and that you will need to do the same procedure for at least two weeks until you are fully healed. Some cuts were too deep, he mentions, if they weren’t it wouldn’t take so long. He mentions that you also needed stitches on your left sole, but it’s too nothing to worry about and you don’t need to get them taken off at the hospital, they will dissolve with time.

He tells all that under three minutes that it takes him to guide boys to your room. He opens the door and hastily adds that today you will need to stay here, but tomorrow you can probably go home. Probably. If the blood that they drew from you is good and there’s no infections.

The chances for that are low. Don’t worry. And with that he is gone.

On the huge medical bed with both your bandaged feet poking out of the thick duvet you look almost comical. Haruchiyo wants to say just that, but notices how your eyes widen and mouth hangs open and then your arms are open, inviting Rindou for a hug. In his hold you cry.

“I am so sorry,” you repeat again and again.

It’s a loud mantra, a plea, and Haruchiyo isn’t that sure it’s intended solely to Rindou.

“You shouldn’t be. It’s okay. I am glad you are okay. I am so fucking glad you are fine.” But Rindou can’t peel himself off you and Haruchiyo understands why. He understands why your fingers are in his blonde hair and why your tears salten his cheek; why you can’t pull yourself away from his comfort.

He doesn’t interrupt. He lets you soak in Rindou and lets Rindou enjoy the feeling of your warm skin. The sight is quite usual to him - you and Rindou, and Haruchiyo to have always been very touchy among each other - but there’s something new, something raw and therefore incredibly sincere between your bodies that attracts his attention.

He feels like he is intruding so he turns away and walks to the window. The snow is still falling and the night is quite dark, but in the parking lot he can see Ran’s white Honda that stands proudly under the light of the streetlamp and his mouth stretches into a knowing smile. Haruchiyo closes his eyes thinking that what were the odds of your windows facing the fucking parking lot.

Life, it seems, is full of sweet coincidences and their outcomes.

“Honestly, I was half expecting my brother to get expelled at one point, but you, love? Never.”

Ran’s voice is sweet with just a tinge of mocking to it. Only he can speak like that. Haruchiyo is a firm believer no one in the whole world can insult you and charm you at the same time as well as Ran can.

And then it’s you and Haruchiyo doesn’t need to turn around and open his eyes to see how you slowly pull away from Rindou. How you close off for a second, eyes going wide as if you witnessed the most vile horror. How your lips tremble and how your whole body melts. How you pick yourself up and notice the soft gaze that Ran reserves only for those he loves. How he looks at you and no one else.

How you understand once again what it means and how you fall into Ran again. How you love him and how he loves you.

Love is yet a foreign concept to Haruchiyo and he hates hospitals, but he thinks he understands.

He doesn’t need to see to feel it all.

“I was dropping out anyway,” you confess. “What’s in the bag?”

“Purin daifuku, those pizza chips, Pocky and soda.”

“You didn’t bring anything for us?” If Rindou tries to hide the fact that he is a bit offended, he does it poorly.

“No, I didn’t. You can’t stay here for the night anyway.” Ran says in his usual calm tone. Then he addresses you. “I asked if I could take you home today, but they told me we need to wait for the results till morning. Stupid if you’d ask me. But I’ll keep you company. You both can go now.”

Under different circumstances Haruchiyo would have argued with Ran. Just for the sake of it. But right now, when he turns around and sees Ran sitting on your bed, his long hair down, head resting against yours as he holds both of your hands in his, all the words die in his throat.

But not Rindou’s. His best friend seems agitated. “What do you mean? Why can’t we stay and you can?” “Only close family and such can stay with a patient overnight. If I were you I wouldn’t be worried about that, but about an ugly bruise that’s gonna appear on your face tomorrow. You better go home and apply that Kobayashi cream we have. Works like a miracle.”

“Since when are you her close family?” Deliberately Rindou ignores Ran’s warnings, latching onto what he wants to know. “Okay. Let’s go, Rin.” Haruchiyo grabs Rindou by his elbow and pulls him towards the door. “We’ll see you both tomorrow.”

When Haruchiyo closes the door behind him he catches the last glimpse of you and Ran. For a split moment that will forever float between those walls of the patient room, he sees Ran leaning closer to you. He watches as his fingers brush across your jaw and your breath hitch. Ran smiles at you and his smile is so gentle, so loving, so comforting and reassuring. Haruchiyo understands why you were hurting so much when Ran wasn’t with you. He finally understands the longing.

And yet, the smile is nothing compared to the way he looks at you. The pure raw affection he reserves just for you, that was never and will never be spent on anybody else, excludes Haruchiyo fastly and sharply. He is not needed there. No one is.

He closes the door and sighs. Maybe hospitals aren't that awful after all.

The thin paper doesn’t do much to prevent their asses from freezing. It was Rindou’s idea - a bad one - to lay down a thick layer of newspaper he spotted in the reception room on the parapet so they could sit on it and share a cigarette before deciding what to do next. Now it got all soggy from the snow and brought more wetness. It was like sitting in a dirty puddle.

But the view from here was quite serene and a cigarette pleasantly burnt their throats so none of them moved. Before them was a highway and each passing car passed so fast from where they were it looked like it flew in the air. Their tires high in the sky, the lights guiding beacons. It reminded Haruchiyo of a sci-fi movie Takeomi once rented at a DVD store near their old flat. Title and plot of it was completely forgotten, but finding himself in a similar scenery brought back the unusual feeling of childish excitement. Something new was before them and Haruchiyo couldn’t wait for it.

“Don’t you feel a bit sad?” Asked Rindou breaking the silence.

Haruchiyo expected this question and even though he was thinking of the perfect answer for it for a while nothing right came to his head. Maybe there’s questions and problems that will never be solved and maybe that’s okay. Maybe not everything needs to be perfectly in order.

“Don’t we always feel a bit sad?” The cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth Haruchiyo turned around and looked at his best friend. “Wouldn’t it be a boring plain world if we were happy all the time?” Rindou shrugs. Between the snowflakes and lights from the hospital windows he looks exceptionally beautiful. “I wouldn’t mind being happy all the time.”

“You only think so, Rin. And anyway it’s not like she’s gone. She’s still our best friend and will always be this. You were stupid to not talk to her. Now that you finally made up I can finally tell you that.”

Haruchiyo laughs. His laugh is dry, but sincere. The bark he produces would suit a gangster way more than it suits him now, but maybe under the layer of time and all possible varieties that is our life somewhere out there he is one.

Everything is possible and nothing is sure.

“And don’t you think Ran always kinda liked her? I thought that it might be because she’s your best friend that he is attentive to her, but now that I am thinking about it I am not really sure.”

Rindou takes off his fogged up glasses and reaches Haruchiyo to wipe them with the sweater you bought. He sighs. “Well, yeah. I mean Ran isn't a douchebag to other girls, but he was extra nice with her. I wonder when he understood it. She told me they spent a lot of time together during summer. So it probably happened then.”

“Probably.” Not that it matters now, Haruchiyo wants to add, but doesn’t. Instead, he asks. “What are you gonna do now that you got expelled?”

“I am going to run a nightclub. Make my fucking dream come true. Ran said we have enough money to rent a decent place in Roppongi. In a couple of years if everything goes alright we can buy it and make it truly ours. What do you think she’s gonna do?” The wind blows south and snow stops falling. Everything seems still. Somewhere behind in the building is you and Ran. Probably talking or kissing. It doesn’t matter since you have each other. And Haruchiyo has Rindou. And to be honest, you are never truly alone. There’s always someone with you or within you. Present now or in the past.

Wickedly Haruchiyo smiles and stands up from the parapet. His pants are thoroughly soaked, but he is warm. Despite everything, today is a good day. “Don’t you know? She’s gonna look out for the kid her and Ran made a couple of months ago.” Haruchiyo watches Rindou’s face fall and he laughs, licking his lips. “I am kidding. Or not really. Saw a test in her bathroom when I stayed over and she mentioned dropping out to me. Said she was sick of dancing. Don’t make such a face, Rin!” Haruchiyo laughs again and again and then Rindou laughs too. “We can think about this in the morning… Now don’t you want to eat something? I am fucking starving.” “Ramen or soba?” “Soba.” “Well, soba it is then. Let’s go.” Their motorcycles roar a long time after they are gone, but the smell of youth they carried never fades away.

It stays forever.

#haitani brothers #haitani x reader #haitani ran imagines #ran haitani #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani scenarios #ran scenarios #ran fluff #ran #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #ran smut #rindou haitani #ran x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader

187 notes · View notes