second best ; sae itoshi x f!reader PART 1
note: got to 10k words and decided to cut it in half<3
wc ; 8.8k | content ; slow burn..? swearing, tension, angst, situationship, kissing, making out, crying, more angst, lots of timeskips, not proofread, reader has a huge crush on sae bc tbh who wouldn't, sae is rich, cringe cliche tropes i'm sorry, english isn't my first language, two parter?, no prns but reader wears a dress, ooc, reader and sae both have rich and absent parents
summary ; growing up with sae itoshi isn't quite what you'd expect
Sae Itoshi isn’t exactly sure when he first meets you – there are no formal introductions or anything of that sort. One day, you enter his life, and you never really bother to leave after. He’s kind of the same for you, appearing all of a sudden – your parents’ friends’ kid, a neighbor of yours – and never disappearing afterwards. As unlikely as it sounds, you’re probably one of his oldest friends – his first friend, as a matter of fact. [Not including Rin, that is. And not including the fact that he doesn’t really see anyone as friends, either.] Coincidentally, you’re also his first kiss.
It’s another one of those things he’s not quite sure about; he doesn’t know how it happened or why, exactly. All he remembers is that he’s twelve, and you’re sulking on the swings next to him at the park, refusing to talk. He doesn’t really care, but you huff so obnoxiously, for so long that he’s forced to take the bait. Only because he feels a little bad for you, though.
“What’s up?”
You perk up ever so slightly at the sound of his voice. It’s a small movement, one that only he sees, because playing soccer has already significantly honed his senses, and because he’s known you for the past seven years. You’re still upset, though, judging from the stupid pout on your face. The one that annoys him to the core, for some reason, even though he doesn’t even care.
“The boys in class called me ugly,” you sigh. Sae thinks he’s too mature to worry about little things like these, but you’re still tender, and apparently it matters a lot to you. He’s not the type to lie to comfort people, and he doesn’t lie when he replies to you. It’s a simple statement, one that he doesn’t think too much of.
“You are pretty, though,” he says. He’s confused; why would the others lie to you? You’re not ugly in the slightest.
“What?”
“I said, you are pretty,” he repeats.
You shake your head.
“Not pretty like in a friends way, Sae,” you chastise him with a tilt of your head. “Like, in a, uhh–” you cut yourself off, chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully. “Like, you’d wanna kiss me, that kinda pretty.”
“I’d kiss you.”
This time you’re surprised. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I would.”
“Wouldn’t.”
“Would too.”
“Do it then,” you huff, confident that you’ve won the argument.
“Okay,” Sae replies, flat and emotionless. He slides off his swing, making his way towards yours. You stop swinging yourself, confused, and he grabs the ropes on either side of your swing, forcing its final halfhearted sways to an end. “So? Wanna kiss?”
It seems that you’ve finally realized he’s serious. “Oh…”
“Well? Don’t waste my time,” he grumbles, but there’s no actual malice behind his words. He thinks you know him well enough to know that, and you do, because then you’re getting off your swing too, and there’s a tense, awkward moment before you lean in, and then–
It’s nothing like you’d imagined; there are no fireworks, and there’s no cheesy romance music in the background either. But the feeling of Sae’s lips on yours are terrifyingly real. But then he pulls back abruptly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks you up and down quizzically. “Happy now?”
You seem unsure of what to say, and he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns around, ready to leave. “I’ve got soccer practice later,” he announces. “I gotta go.”
Sae doesn’t need to see your face to know how it falls, disappointed. He doesn’t look back as he walks away, because even at this young age, he knows how to pick his battles. And he doesn’t really care about you all that much, but he still doesn’t like it when you’re sad.
“Bye,” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear.
He doesn’t bring up the kiss the next day. Or the day after. Or after that. It’s like it never even happened. And if he were anyone, anyone else, you would’ve worried – even a little bit, because you’ve read those cute tween romance books that your best friend lends you – about how the friendship would work after this; but he’s Sae, and Sae doesn’t have friends. You’ve heard the whole spiel before – how he doesn’t care for friends, how he has Rin if he needs company, how soccer is always, always, always his first priority – and even though he’s basically told you that you aren’t friends, he’s never told you to leave either. So it’s not like he doesn’t like you, right?
But then again, it’s kinda changed everything for you. Because suddenly, Sae is no longer just Sae. It’s as if something in your brain finally clicks, and you realize that Sae is a boy too. It’s as if you’ve always seen him as an extension of your girlfriends, but now it’s different. So, so different. For the first time, you look at him like he’s one of the cute boys in class – because he is.
And unbeknownst to you, Sae notices. He sees the way you stare at him unabashedly when you think he’s not looking, how your movements suddenly become more calculated around him. Suddenly, you’ve stopped speaking your mind around him, started caring more about your appearance instead. You’re more conscious of your words and actions, and you keep applying and reapplying the strawberry lipgloss that’s always on your person The regular afternoons at the swing set in the park before practice have turned into hanging out maybe once a fortnight; instead of bugging him to hang out, you now shyly wave goodbye at him after school, and he watches you run over to your friends. You all giggle and push each other around, and if he notices the indiscreet glances your friends throw at him, or hears one of you say his name, he makes an effort to steadfastly ignore it.
It’s already kind of pathetic, how obvious you are with your little crush on him. He tries his best to ignore it, even when your entire face burns red when he throws you a ghost of a smile. But sometimes, even he finds it hard to resist teasing you. He deserves it, right? In his mind, he does. If you’re going to pine over him like this, might as well mess with you at least once while you do so.
It’s a week before your thirteenth birthday – he’s already turned thirteen by then – when he looks at you, feigning curiosity. “Y/n?”
You look at him, startled. “Yeah?”
“What happened to that guy you used to like, what was his name again-”
“N-nothing!” you stammer, interrupting him. “I don’t like anyone, I mean him, anymore!”
Sae’s lips quirk up momentarily; he shakes his head and walks away as you blush and babble incoherently, hands stuffed deep into his pockets.
You’re actually kinda cute.
Kinda.
He doesn’t know why it feels this good to have you indirectly confirm that you like him.
Thirteen passes by so fast, but it leaves you dealing with so many changes too.
There are no more afternoons spent at the swing set in the park.
At fourteen, you stop focusing on yourself for long enough to notice that Sae is changing too. He’s suddenly much taller than you, voice beginning to get deeper. He lets his reddish-brown hair grow out so it frames his face – somewhat unevenly, but it’s still pretty. He’s started to spend more time at soccer practice, and it shows. Like, physically. The muscles in his arms and legs have started to become more defined, and the number of girls who are into him have therefore increased drastically. It irks you. And then he actually starts dating, and it pisses you off even more, because 1) since you’ve basically grown up together, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend, and 2) girls are basically lining up to date him, even when all the relationships he’s been in so far barely last a month, and his personality is ass, and he always prioritizes soccer more.
He doesn’t deserve it just because he’s pretty.
You don’t really understand why they do it; you’ve been pining for him silently for almost two years, and even though you fantasize him liking you back, and marrying you in the future, you know you probably wouldn’t do anything with him, not right now, not when he’s like this. You hope that if anything happens with him, you’ll be sensible enough to not pursue it. And you even miss just being friends with him – now that he’s busy with soccer, and teaching Rin, and girls, he doesn’t have any time for anything else. Anything else being you, in this case.
You barely talk to him anymore, and it’s not like he makes any effort either.
You miss him.
Sae doesn’t take all these relationships seriously at all; he’s fifteen, and no one really falls in love at fifteen, right? Besides, it’s not like any of these girls want him for anything other than his looks and money. They’re pretty, sure, and it’s fun sneaking around and having someone cheer for him at his soccer matches is nice, but he doesn’t really care for it in the end.
Freshman prom takes place when you’re almost sixteen. You’re one of those few people who doesn’t have a date; you’ve never dated anyone and quite frankly, you’re contemplating whether you should go at all. Maybe you won’t waste money on a dress and makeup and just stay home instead – it won’t be worth it to go alone and face the awkwardness of not having someone with you. All your friends have dates, so you’ll basically be alone anyways, and you don’t want them to give anything up for you – you know they would.
You’re thinking of all this while stranded on one of the higher seats on the bleachers; your friend Asa’s boyfriend is at soccer practice, and she’s brought you with her to watch. You’re not very interested in whatever they’re doing down there, but Asa appears to be, since she’s left you up here alone to go down to talk to her boyfriend. You look up momentarily, not expecting to see anything interesting, but then you catch sight of a familiar number on the back of a jersey – number 10. Despite not wanting to give in to his effortless allure, you can’t help but drag your eyes down the vast expanse of his broad back, down to where it tapers off into a surprisingly small waist, and then his toned legs. If he’s like this at sixteen, you can’t even imagine what he’ll look like when he’s older.
And then he turns around. And your eyes meet. He smirks at you, as if he knows you’ve been staring. You tear your eyes away from his mesmerizing teal ones, trying to focus on the math book that’s perched precariously on your lap. A moment later, you glance up again, thinking he’s moved to some other part of the field, but instead he’s approaching the bleachers, specifically in your direction. You panic for a second – maybe he’s just going to talk to someone else down there, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. But then he starts climbing the steps, one by one, until he stops at your level. Please walk past me, please walk past me, please–
He sits down on the seat next to yours. You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the notebook, refusing to acknowledge his existence until he acknowledges yours.
“You got a date?”
“Huh?” your brain doesn’t register the question before your answer flies out of your mouth. “What?”
Sae sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. Even now, sweaty and tired and annoyed, he looks absolutely gorgeous. “Prom, you have a date?”
“Actually I’m thinking of not going at all,” you admit sheepishly.
“Why not?” Sae has the audacity to actually look interested.
“It’ll be awkward,” you reply flatly. “All my friends have dates, but I don’t, so I won’t have anyone to be with, and if I tell them I’m going alone, they’ll just ditch their boyfriends to hang out with me. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Go with me, then.”
“What?”
“Be my date, to prom,” he sighs.
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?”
“Don’t you have a date? I thought girls chase you everywhere,” you scoff.
“What, you jealous?” he says, almost as if he’s musing.
“Of course not!” you lie.
“So? Is it a yes, or do I gotta find some other girl to take?”
“I don’t think you have to go looking to find one,” you reply coldly.
He snickers in response, but there’s no mirth behind it. “I’m serious. I want you to go with me.”
You’d hoped to be sensible in situations like these. Spoiler alert: you’d hoped wrong. You are, after all, only fifteen.
“What about your girlfriend, though?” you ask him later.
“We broke up.” he replies curtly. Of course they did.
You ignore the twisted glee that boils in the pits of your stomach.
Your friends are probably more excited than you when you tell them who’s taking you to prom; you try to convince them – and also yourself – that it’s nothing like that, it’s purely platonic. But you still don’t know why he chose you. You’re also not sure why you accepted. If only he wasn’t so damn pretty.
You’re not deaf – the whispers start as soon as you enter prom attached to the Sae Itoshi’s side, the corsage on your wrist matching the boutonnière on the lapel of his tuxedo. All eyes are on the two of you; the soccer prodigy and his childhood friend. But Sae is surprisingly courteous tonight. He notices your discomfort almost immediately, squeezing your hand reassuringly to calm you down.
“Ignore them,” he advises you under his breath. He’s nothing like the person you’ve known so far. Is this how he treats his girlfriends? You shrug the thought off, instead forcing yourself to smile up at him.
“I’m fine,” you murmur.
You’re not.
Sae is an excellent date; he dances with you until you’re tired, refuses to leave your side, and looks after your punch when you go to the bathroom. He seems somewhat tired, but it feels like he’s trying to hide it, so you don’t mention it. But then again, you’ve been wrapped up in your own thoughts again. Because of tonight, the emotional part of your crush on Sae has once again been reawakened – he’s no longer a piece of eye candy you stare at when you’re bored.
And then, just when you decide things can’t get any worse, they do.
“Y/n, Sae, c’mere,” calls Asa. “Let's play spin the bottle!”
You shake your head, about to refuse, but Sae grabs your hand and starts walking towards the small group that’s assembled around a glass bottle that’s half full of some dubious liquid you can’t quite identify.
“Sure,” he says. “We’ll play.”
Fuck.
The circle consists of you, Sae, Asa, her boyfriend Denji, your other friend Maki, and a bunch of other people you don’t know by name. You’re sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of the gymnasium, and for some reason, you have a really bad feeling about this. Maki goes first, leaning forward to spin the bottle with a swift flick of her fingers. It slows down near you, moves to Sae – your breath catches in your throat as it inches past – and stops in front of Asa. She leans in, giving Maki a cursory peck on the lips before pulling back. They’re both laughing, and she leans into Denji, immediately murmuring an apology. He shakes his head, grinning. “I don’t mind, babe, I swear! But whose turn is it now?”
Everyone turns to look at you.
Shit.
You swallow nervously, reaching out to the bottle with one shaky hand. You don’t know why you’re this anxious. Taking a deep breath, you spin. It takes longer than you expect. You can hardly breathe – and then Sae bends his head towards yours, whispering, “Calm down, it’ll be fine.”
But it isn’t. Because as soon as the words exit his mouth, the bottle comes to a stop. And because the universe does everything it possibly can to fuck you over, it comes to a stop in front of Sae. You hastily shake your head. “It’s okay, we don’t have to–”
“What?” he interrupts. “You don’t wanna kiss me?”
“It’s not that,” an angry flush spreads across your cheeks, and your hands ball up into tight fists. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Make it ten seconds at least, this time!” Someone cheers, but you’re only looking at Sae. You turn towards him, and just like that, you and Sae share your second kiss together. He’s obviously much more experienced than you, tilting your head up with one hand to get a better angle. His lips are chapped, but still soft. It feels… nice. You almost wish you were dating him. But when you finally relax, almost starting to enjoy it, he pulls back. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”
You nod, flustered, still trying to compose yourself. “ Yeah, it was okay.”
“I think I’m cursed,” you complain to Asa and Maki in the girls’ toilets where you’ve taken refuge to touch up your makeup. “He was my first kiss, and my second one too. Next you’ll see him being the third one too!”
Asa giggles. “Ooh, I hope so!”
“Maybe he’s secretly in love with you, you never know,” interjects Maki, but you shake your head sadly. She rolls her eyes, closing the tube of mascara. “Stop acting like a pathetic puppy,” she chides. “It’s okayyyyy.”
You don’t answer, busy swiping the applicator of your lipgloss across your lips.
“Um, I think I gotta pee, you guys go back without me,” you say. Your voice is too loud, too high-pitched. It’s obvious that you have other reasons for wanting to come out later. There’s an awkward silence, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. Will they refuse and Call you out? Anxiety bubbles up inside you. But Asa and Maki are your best friends, after all. You can see in their eyes that they don’t buy it at all – they pretend to, though, and leave you alone in the restrooms to rot alone with your thoughts.
When you finally get the guts to exit the toilet, you find yourself standing behind Asa. She’s asking Sae how much longer the two of you will be staying, and hasn’t seemed to notice you behind her yet. Sae does, though, raising one perfect brow ever so slightly. Asa continues talking, unaware of the silent conversation going on between the two of you. Sae tilts his head to one side, as if asking a question; you shake your head vehemently in return, hoping he understands what you’re trying to convey.
“We’ll get going as soon as y/n comes back,” says Sae. You breathe a sigh of relief; how could you possibly have doubted him? He’s known you since you were what, five years old – longer than anyone else in the room, even Maki and Asa.
“But it’s barely eight,” Asa argues, but he shakes his head.
“Her parents said eight thirty tops,” he shrugs. Sae is an impeccable liar. Before Asa can say anything else, you interrupt them.
“ Sae, we gotta go.”
“Yeah,” he says. “See? Later, Asa.”
“Bye Asa!”
She waves goodbye as the two of you leave the gym.
The school looks completely different at night, dimly lit with countless locked doors on either side of you, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost. Sae watches you standing uneasily by a window, face lit up almost ethereally by the moonlight that’s streaming in. You don’t notice him staring as you gaze distractedly out of the window silently. You really are pretty.
He doesn’t realize when he walks over to stand beside you wordlessly. You tear your eyes away from the world outside and turn to him. “You need anything?”
He shakes his head. “Not really.”
His voice is lower than usual, barely above a whisper, and suddenly the air is thick with tension. He hears you breathe in, sharp and fast, as your gaze flickers from his eyes, to his lips, then back to his eyes again. He can’t blame you, not when he’s doing the same thing. Sae takes a single carefully calculated step forward, and before he can move another muscle, you step forward too, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down to kiss him. He’s startled at your boldness – he hadn’t expected you to initiate anything – but it’s a nice surprise. It takes a moment for him to regain his senses before he kisses you back with equal fervor, large hands coming up to cradle your face. He feels you sigh softly into his mouth, fists tightening around the fabric of his jacket. What had Asa mentioned again– oh. So this is your first real kiss – not one that’s part of a game, not one that’s being used to just prove a point. Your stupid strawberry lipgloss smears across your mouth and his, and it tastes good, and you taste good, and so what if a tiny part of him doesn’t want this to ever end?
But then the two of you separate, and you’re probably the most beautiful girl he’s seen in his entire life. You’re panting slightly from the lack of oxygen, chest heaving gently. Your lips are parted a little, slick with a mix of lipgloss and saliva, and you’re watching him with widened eyes. He’s not sure what to do now, but suddenly you take a step back, and then another, and another. You shake your head. “This was a mistake, Sae. I’m not gonna become another one of your disposable girlfriends.”
Sae doesn’t know what to say. In fact, he doesn’t even have anything to say at all. No excuses, no defenses. You are probably right after all. Though he may be an expert at starting relationships, he certainly fails to keep them alive – not that he cares to, in the first place. And soccer is always more important anyways. So he stays silent, watching you hurry away into the dark.
He hopes you won’t get lost this time.
School starts a week later, a day after your sixteenth birthday. You’re almost relieved to see that Sae has gone back to ignoring you. [he hasn’t wished you a happy birthday.] You play it off to your friends as him just being busy again, but you know that’s not true. And he already has another girl hanging off his arm again, and although you’re unsurprised, it still hurts after that night, when he’d kissed you like you actually meant something to him. You know you don’t, though. Not in the way other things matter to him – soccer, for example. Or getting girls.
It’s painful to even look at him now; it’s annoying how fast your views of him have changed. It also doesn’t help that he glances towards you every now and then. Whatever, you think. Fuck him. You need to focus on your classwork instead. Or more specifically, the project that’ll make up a significant portion of your grade and act as a replacement for your finals. Unfortunately for you, it’s a partnered project, meaning you won’t be able to work as efficiently – you’re in your element when you’re working alone. Half the class has already been paired up by the time your name is called. You scan the remaining people for Asa or Maki, hoping you get one of them as a partner, but your peace is shattered as your teacher calls out a name that you’ve grown to dislike, no, fear over the past week. “Sae Itoshi!”
Sae’s face is painfully neutral, betraying absolutely no emotion. You don’t know whether he even cares about this – he probably doesn’t – but it’s still an important project, so all you can do is suck it up and work. He walks up to you, face still annoyingly blank. “You have my number, right?”
What happened to hello? How are you? You nod anyways, unsure of what he wants.
“Call me then,” he says flatly. “I’ll do whatever as long as you arrange the time and place.”
What a bitch. You want to slap him.
“Okay.”
It’s not okay.
Every time you’re even near him, all you can think of is his lips on yours; the feel of his hands on your waist, your face. You don’t want anything to do with him, let alone spend the next two weeks working on this stupid project with him.
That night, you scream at yourself in the mirror. Why can’t you just be normal? These things happen, it’s not a big deal. You spend half an hour pacing around the bathroom, raving to yourself like a madman. It takes another hour before you calm down enough to be able to text him.
You: hey
You: this is y/n btw
Sae: ok
You: you told me to arrange everything
Sae: yea
You: i’m free tmr after school. At like 3
Sae: i have practice
You: dude skip out on practice once nothing will happen
Sae: no
y/n: ur literally a prodigy..
Sae: and?
y/n: okay yk what?
y/n: you set everything up then idc
Sae: wtf okay
Sae: 3pms okay
Sae: your place or mine
The first time the two of you meet up, time passes slowly but uneventfully. It’s at your house; the two of you have decided to alternate until the project is done. It doesn’t really matter, though, considering how close you live to each other It takes you almost six hours to perfect the outline, and you’re fucking exhausted by the end of the day. Even Sae doesn’t have any energy in him to spit out any witty remarks until he’s leaving. He shoves his things into his backpack messily. Usually, everything that belongs to him is neat and immaculate, so this goes to show just how much the day has worn him out. But it appears to have reduced the tension between you two as well. [Not that you care.] At the door, he turns back to you. “Fuck you for choosing the most complicated topic just for some extra credit,” he grumbles.
You scoff, even though you know he’s not being serious.
“Fuck you too, Sae Itoshi.” you call.
He raises up one hand to flip you off behind him as he walks off.
You think you hear him laugh.
The second day of the project is spent at Sae’s place. It’s a Saturday, and he forces you to wake up nice and early so the two of you can start working on the project as fast as possible.
“The faster we start, the faster we finish,” he says.
Sae is infinitely more comfortable in his own house, body draped over one of the many sofas in the living room as he types on his laptop. You’re sitting on the floor, on top of a large piece of paper that you’re decorating. This project is such a pain in the ass. The air conditioner is on full blast, but for some reason you’re still feeling kind of feverish. Sae, on the other hand, seems to be living his best life in a tight black t-shirt and light gray sweats that hang annoyingly low on his hips – it’s a simple yet devastatingly distracting outfit, and you can barely focus.
Sooner or later, the two of you find yourselves in the kitchen looking for something to eat. Sae bends down to rifle through the fridge while you seat yourself on one of the high stools around the kitchen counter. Your legs hang in the air, and suddenly you feel very small. But more and more loud noises come from the fridge as Sae curses and throws an empty box behind him; you take this moment to shamelessly ogle his turned back. He straightens up again a moment later, and you rip your eyes away and look down at the counter. Just in time too, because he turns around, slamming the door shut.
“That little shit Rin finished everything good here,” he grumbles, stretching. You have to force yourself to look away from him and the way his shirt rides up to reveal perfectly sculpted abs. He turns to one of the cabinets instead, pulling out a container instead. Opening it up, he sticks one hand inside, pulling out a chocolate chip cookie. Then he holds it out to you. “Want some?”
You nod in assent.
Sae finishes eating before you, but he doesn’t leave the kitchen as you steadily work through the pile of cookies on your plate. It’s not exactly awkward, but he’s slouched against the marble of the kitchen counter, chin resting on one hand as he watches you eat. His pretty teal gaze follows your every movement, yet his face remains completely passive.
You help him wash up after you finish, even though there’s not a lot to clean. But then, as you turn around to leave the kitchen, Sae moves too, and suddenly you’re standing with your front all but pressed up against his. You move to one side to give him space to pass, but apparently he has the same idea at the exact same time. You move to the other side, and so does he. The double coincidence makes you giggle, and pulls a chuckle from him too. But the atmosphere shifts in a way that’s all too familiar, and the pit in your stomach reopens, and you swallow, looking up at Sae. He stares back at you, nonchalant, and before you can say anything or get yourself out of this situation, he speaks. “I want to kiss you again.”
His voice is controlled, toneless. But his eyes, the ones you’ve known for over nine years right now, betray his true feelings. He’s really not as unbothered as he’s trying to appear; a steady fire of something you can’t identify burns in his eyes.
You want to say no. You know that’s the smarter option here. You know you’ll only get hurt more if you let it – or whatever this is – continue like this. The path that you’re walking is already doomed, you can see where the road ends, fades into nothing but pain and suffering. But you’re young, and you’re stupid. And you like Sae Itoshi way more than you should. So you shrug. “Sure.”
Sae cups your face with one hand, adjusting your positioning slightly before he leans down to kiss you. This time, along with the anxiety, there’s also something in you that yearns and yearns. The second or two before Sae kisses you feels like an hour at the least; something almost akin to relief floods through your veins when he finally does.
It’s as if your world shifts as he kisses you again, slow and languid. Or at least, that’s how it starts. In a matter of seconds it turns into something more zealous, all tongue and teeth. Your hands instinctively fly up to tangle into his messy hair as he picks you up effortlessly with one hand and places you atop the kitchen counter. You gasp into his mouth in surprise at the sudden movement, and it draws a low chuckle from him before he pulls away infinitesimally. You’re confused; is it ending already? You don’t want it to end. And it’s as if Sae reads your mind.
“Calm down, pretty,” he pants, eyes wide and pupils blown out. He smirks against your lips, smug, confident. “It’s just a breather, I’ll kiss you again, don’t worry.”
You roll your eyes, and Sae kisses you again; you can feel the way his lips curve up. He feels you loop your arms around his neck, somehow pulling him even closer to you, and he maneuvers one of your legs so it’s hooked around his hip. You seem to get the message, wrapping your legs around his waist. Sae hums into your mouth in approval, dragging a thumb across your cheekbone slowly, lips still against yours. He knows all of this is still more or less new to you, considering the fact that everything you’ve experienced has been with Sae, but it’s obvious that you’re growing more and more used to it by the second.
He doesn’t taste the lipgloss this time; he almost misses it – both the taste, and the way it smudges across your lips so prettily.
The taste of him intoxicates you, leaving you in a drunken stupor where he’s the only thing you can focus on. His every touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake across your body.
But heaven on earth always comes to an end, one way or the other. You’re both oh-so wrapped up in everything going on when Sae suddenly pulls away. You lean back from him, confused. “Sae, what’s wrong?”
“Just, just gimme a sec,” he rasps. His voice is low, husky from the kissing, and he’s somewhat short of breath. “I’m not looking for a relationship or anything. I don’t know why I did it, I broke up with Kaori like a week ago.”
“I know,” you reply matter-of-factly. “Like I give a fuck.”
And then you kiss him again.
The sound of his phone ringing interrupts the two of you, and you both turn your heads to look at it simultaneously. It’s an unknown number; he cuts the call, cursing, and turns back to you. But your eyes are widened in disbelief as you stare at the clock on his lockscreen. “Sae, it’s been almost an hour since we came here!”
“No way,” he says. There’s a note of mild surprise in his voice as he checks for himself.
“We have to get back to work,” you tell him.
“Whatever, five more minutes?”
You shake your head, finally leaving the kitchen. Now that the haze you’d been lost in has finally cleared, the magnitude of just how badly you’ve fucked all this up has begun to really sink in. Sae is much more composed than you – like he didn’t just spend the last thirty-ish minutes making out with you on his kitchen counter.
The two sides of you are fighting, clawing, tearing each other apart. One side wraps around you protectively, trying to keep your heart safe. To keep you safe. Stay away from him, it screams. You’ll only get hurt. The other side wants him – wants him so badly. He has you addicted with a singular touch; your body needs this, craves him.
And you hate how he’s perfectly fine about all this.
Spoiler alert: he isn’t. Although his face doesn’t betray it, he has been thinking.
That evening, before you leave, he asks you a question.
“What are we?”
You pause. “You said you’re not, y’know…”
“Yeah.” he’s selfish; he knows that you’re into him at least a little bit. [or a lot, considering how the last few days have been.] “What do you wanna do?”
This is the last moment you can turn back, save yourself. But you only live once, right? Might as well do it for the plot. “We can keep it like this, I don’t mind.”
Sae watches you touch up your makeup before you leave. You work calm and methodically – mascara, lipstick, that damned strawberry lipgloss. “y/n.”
You move your gaze from your compact mirror to him. Damn, you’re pretty. “What?”
“Kiss me,” he says, from the couch.
You don’t say no as you take your shoes off again.
You reapply your lipgloss again half an hour later, on the way home.
The project is completed much earlier than expected. If you’re being honest, though, you should have expected this, considering the two of you spend most of every day at each others’ places now anyways. You’ve always hated having rich, absent parents, but it doesn’t seem half as bad now. Not when Sae’s hand sits so comfortably on your waist, chin resting atop yours as he takes a photo of the finished piece. It’s like you’re two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, that are meant to be. You wish it was meant to be.
You and Sae have been pretty good at keeping things under wraps, especially when you can barely keep your hands off each other. Ever since you okayed the relationship-not-relationship, it’s as if things have automatically upped a notch. And even then, you barely text, unless it’s about meeting up in secluded corners and empty parking lots, where Sae kisses you silly, until you can’t breathe and his sharp teal gaze is unfocused and glazed over. Sae chases you the way he chases every goal on the field, focused on you and only you, ruthless, mindless of everyone else until he has you right where he wants you, with unbuttoned shirts and loosened ties and roaming hands that grab collars and venture daringly underneath clothes without ever crossing that invisible line. In the past few weeks, for example, you’ve felt up Sae’s abs way more than you’re going to admit; you’ve lost count by now anyways, but you know you’d never go farther. [you never started.]
When Sae Itoshi truly puts his mind to it, he is an emphatic lover. Between days of stolen kisses and fleeting touches and nights where you sneak out to meet him like he’s your boyfriend, time passes fast. Your favorite drink sits at one corner of your desk every day at school, and sometimes people ask if you’re dating someone. You shake your head no, but it still is a pleasant surprise every day, you tell people. It’s most definitely not Sae, especially when he’s slightly late to school every day after his early morning soccer practice.
In his own classroom down the hall, Rin’s lips quirk up into a subtle smile.
Sixteen turns into seventeen in the blink of an eye.
Sae’s slowly becoming more and more busy with soccer, and it’s not like you aren’t busy either. You barely see him now, except at schools and parties, both of which are less than ideal, considering the nature of your relationship. This doesn’t deter Sae, however, and you often find yourselves in empty rooms or the like, risking it all for a few kisses.
And then there’s the matter of his girlfriends. Because whether you like it or not, Sae has begun to date girls every now and then. They’re not serious relationships, just stupid flings that last a month or two. He never brings them up to you, and you never mention them either, unless you’re asking whether he’s done with them. He doesn’t tell you when exactly he starts dating someone new, but it’s obvious from how he pulls back and stops texting you at all. And then you see a new girl hanging off his arm at every party, and of course you’re jealous. Why wouldn’t you be? After all, it’s been five years since the first spark of anything you’ve felt for him came alive.
You’re the one constant in his life, though, other than soccer. Every time he’s done with another girlfriend, he comes straight back to you. Or you go back to him.
Sae: come over?
Sae: yeah yeah im done w her dont worry
y/n: okay
You never refuse him, overpowered by greed, trying to get as much of him to yourself as you can.
“Hey,” he greets you. His lips are already on yours before he’s closing the door. You don’t respond – how can you, given your position – but you smile into the kiss all the same. Sae is the closest you’ve ever had to a boyfriend. You have no interest in anyone outside him anyways. His parents are rarely home, and so are yours, so you often end up spending nights at each others’ places. It’s nothing sexual; you’d just rather not be alone. There’s a drawer of Sae’s things in your room, and he knows – and you know he knows – that you wear them occasionally. You always deny it, but he encourages it with a sly smile. “Better you than anyone else,” he says. It makes you feel special. Even his girlfriends don’t get that treatment. But that’s before you sleep over at Sae’s. Once you start staying over, his clothes are basically at your disposal. You steal his button ups, his t-shirts, his shorts. And the best part is, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. All he does is grin at you lazily while he shamelessly checks you out. “You look good, pretty girl.”
He laughs at the way the pet name startles you.
Seventeen is also when your life falls apart.
Sae shows up unannounced one night at your door, with a bouquet, a gift bag and an envelope. You haven’t seen him in a while. He’s been busy with some sort of tryouts, you’re not really sure. He hands the bag and flowers to you watching you toss the bouquet onto a couch and turn to the bag. You take out a small velvet box. It looks expensive. Inside, there’s a simple gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Your eyes widen. “Sae, what is this? How much did it–”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. His usually dispassionate face seems almost sad. “Just a present for my favorite girl.”
Sae has never been a verbal person with you. In the last two years, he’s only ever made his thoughts clear through his actions – never his words. This is new, and for some reason, it scares you. “But why?”
“It’s my way of saying goodbye,” he admits. Your heart drops.
“What?”
He hands you the envelope next, and your eyes frantically skim through the document until you finish; he’s been chosen to go to Spain and train under that one soccer team he’s always talked about. You look up with wide eyes. “Sae, I’m so happy for you!”
He smiles, albeit melancholically. “I knew you’d be. But there’s also… us.”
You’re confused. “Huh? Us?”
He nods. “Whatever we’re doing right now – I can’t continue it. Not like this, over texts, with the time difference and everything. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.” Your heart shatters into a million pieces, but you don’t want to feel any of this. Because even though you’re losing him right now, he was never yours in the first place – and you were never his. And you’d known this from the start; anticipated it even. There’d been a small part of you that had hoped, of course, that things would go a different route, but it had been set in stone all along. You take a deep breath. “Okay, Sae Itoshi, what do you wanna do?”
The corners of his lips twitch at the use of his full name, even as he tries to remain serious. “I don’t know, y/n l/n, what do I wanna do?”
Stuffing the envelope back into his hoodie pocket, he cradles your face softly with both hands, like you’re fragile. Weird. He’s never done anything like this, especially not almost-in-public. He’s always been careful, trying not to get caught. And he has kept this hidden for almost two years now, so you can’t exactly complain. You grab his wrists with both of your hands, pulling him into your house. You lock the door carefully, but you don’t notice the girl at the corner of the street. The one with a wicked little smile on her face, as she clicks yet another incriminating picture of you and Sae, damning evidence of the stupid not-relationship the two of you have kept hidden for so long.
“Do me,” you snicker as soon as you make sure the door is locked. It’s not your usual humor, not with Sae, anyways, but you’re too absorbed in your thoughts, trying to hide the intense pain you’re feeling right now. You hope it doesn’t show on your face.
Sae raises one eyebrow, arms crossed in front of him. “Come again?”
“Nothing,” you say. “C’mere, help me put this on.”
He follows you to your room like a sad puppy, waiting silently as you turn the lights on and stand in front of the mirror. He takes the necklace from your hands, fastening it around your neck. You fix the positioning of the locket; the metal is cool against your skin that’s heated up from the brush of his fingers on the nape of your neck. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and the silence is strained, awkward even, unlike anything you’ve experienced with him before.
“So, when are you leaving?” you ask him.
“Tomorrow.”
Oh. So that’s why it’s goodbye. Of course. [You want to die.] Instead, you turn to him, hoping your face doesn’t betray your emotions. “How long are you staying here?”
“How long do you want me to?”
“When’s your flight?”
“Stop asking me questions,” he huffs. “Eight, I think.”
You open your mouth to ask another question.
“AM, eight in the morning,” he says, hands raised in surrender. “Now will you stop?”
“Let’s watch a movie,” you tell him, ignoring the second statement. “Then you can go home, I guess.”
“You guess? What, you wanna keep me here forever?” he means it as a joke, but you hum in agreement.
“Sure.”
He pulls one of your drawers open, taking out two sets of clothing. He chucks one at you with a grin. “Go change, stupid. Get comfortable.”
“Oh,” you say. “You have to take all this back, right?”
“Nah,” he responds carelessly. “I don’t. Keep ‘em, throw ‘em out for all I care.”
You change in the bathroom, giving him space to do the same in your room. But when you come out after giving him sufficient time to finish – he’s always been quick in every way – he hasn’t changed, standing with his back to you while talking on the phone in only his boxers. You wait for him to finish, patiently staring at his back until he finishes. He notices your presence almost as soon as the call ends, turning around to face you. “What?”
“Nice ass, Itoshi,” you grin.
He narrows his eyes at you. “For real, y/n?”
You don’t answer, instead busying yourself with fixing up your bed while he gets dressed. When your bed looks okay enough for your [arguably low] standards, you turn back to Sae, who’s still very much shirtless. He holds his t-shirt in front of him, staring at it skeptically.
“The fuck, Sae? Put your clothes on!”
“It’s hot tonight,” he complains. “Can’t I go without?”
In all those nights of staying over, he’s never done that before. If it had been anyone else you’d probably have said no. But it is Sae asking, and when have you ever said no to him? You make a show of thinking it over, but your mind has already said yes.
You start off at separate sides of the bed – you always do. This time, though, you don’t really concentrate on the movie as much as you should. Sneaking looks at Sae Itoshi’s lean, yet defined and extremely attractive body is much more fun anyways. When you’re about halfway through the stupid, sappy rom-com you’re watching, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your middle before Sae pulls you into himself. Your terrified shriek turns into a groan as you turn over to smack him in annoyance. “Maybe ask next time!”
Sae shakes his head, burying his face in your hair. Humming appreciatively, he pulls the hem of your [his] loose t-shirt up just enough to be able to wrap his arms around your bare middle. He turns back to the movie, but you’re stuck in contemplative thought. This is all new; he’s never actively done anything like it during any of your countless movie nights – if they can even be called that, considering the majority of them are interrupted by him initiating something or vice versa – and he’s always waited for the two of you to slowly come closer to each other rather than pull you to him, like tonight. He’s acting like what you'd expect a real boyfriend to act like, and suddenly your insides lurch, and once again the gravity of the situation hits you.
You’ve never really minded being Sae’s little secret, someone he comes back to when he’s tired of school and soccer and his girlfriends. It makes you feel like you’re kind of a safe space for him, where he’s not afraid to be soft or tired or imperfect. Of course, he’ll always be perfect in your eyes, anyways. But it hurts like hell now, when he acts like he’s yours, buying you expensive shit, calling you his favorite girl – who even does that? You’re already thinking of giving the necklace away, because how can you live with something like it, when he’s the one giving it to you, his “favorite girl”, when he’s not even your boyfriend. And even then, you’ve managed to somehow fall in love with him.
It’s so fucked – you’re so fucked.
Sae seems oblivious to your troubled thoughts, hands busied with toying with your necklace.
“This looks pretty on you,” he murmurs, and you want to throw up. You can’t take it anymore; you want to forget it, forget him, forget every compliment that he’s handed you today like some sort of indirect apology. Another second of all this, and you might just cry. You need him to shut the fuck up, and the easiest way to do that is–
“Sae, wanna make out?”
He never says no to you, either.
Sae leaves like a shadow in the night; he kisses you goodbye and whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “I’msorryIloveyou” before he pulls away. But he’s Sae, he would never say that. And even while breaking your heart into pieces with his bare hands, slow and deliberate, he still has the audacity to look so devastatingly beautiful while doing it. And you still can’t hate him. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to. It’s maybe two in the morning when you stand at the door waiting for him to leave – you’re not sure because one moment you’re falling asleep, and the next he’s waking you up, cursing, running late. He still needs to pack half his stuff. You’re startled out of your sleep when you hear that; is he fucking stupid? Who leaves that for the last few hours?
But you digress.
You haven’t bothered to turn the lights on, knowing that you'll probably just go back to bed and cry. Maybe grab some ice cream from the kitchen on your way. Not that it matters. Sae’s changed back into his normal clothes again. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Stepping out of your house for the last time in who knows when, he turns back. You both speak at the same time.
“y/n.”
“Sae.”
“You go first,” he says.
“How long will you be, um, gone?” you ask. You’re aware your voice is shaky. Your lower lip trembles, and you bite down on it to stop. You’re going to cry – you don’t want to, not in front of him.
“Two years,” he replies sheepishly. “Give or take.”
Two–
“I won’t have my phone, or anything,” he continues, unprompted. “So…”
“Yeah, I get it,” you say.
“Yeah.”
“What were you gonna say?” you ask. You’d almost forgotten.
“Oh,” he seems shy, all of a sudden. The cocky, confident, arrogant, brash Sae Itoshi, acting like this in front of you? Something’s definitely up. “Oh.”
“Hm?”
“I’ll miss you,” he says at last.
He watches your face carefully: the way it moves, the way your expression changes, the way the tiniest spasm of pain flits across it before it goes back to whatever facade you’ve been maintaining carefully ever since he came over today. You don’t say anything back, but god you’re beautiful. Even in your [his] ugly, oversized clothes and with your messy hair, you look absolutely enchanting, angelic features illuminated by the silvery moonlight. Suddenly he’s transported back to a certain evening almost two years ago, with you in a shimmery blue dress, standing by a window. You in that same blue dress, kissing him like your life depended on it. You–
“You should go,” you say shakily. I’ll miss you too, Sae. So much. You don’t even know.
“I should.” He doesn’t want to.
[You don’t see Sae Itoshi again until you’re on a cruise ship, celebrating your nineteenth birthday.]
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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
summary: in which someone flirts with them, but they're only looking at you.
includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.
notes: this one's shorter than the one before but still, go wild my loves <3
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐘 who values you very much. is the type to be very secure in the relationship; doesn't like any unnecessary drama and is definitely ready to move onto the next stage. wouldn't really care about the other person but will not tolerate having his boundaries crossed. especially when it's clear that he's yours and yours only.
isagi, yukimiya, bachira, nagi.
his eyes are on his phone, feet tapping against the tiles of the cafe. it's a hole in the wall that he's used to frequenting with you, so much that the staff know your orders by heart. the line is short, seats mostly empty, as the rush hour has passed. the rain is pouring against the window beside him, and he taps his finger on the table to their rhythm.
tilting his head, his eyes find you in the middle of the line. you're focused on the menu, your bottom lip between your teeth as you scan the list of food and beverages. it makes him smile, chuckling under his breath because he knows you'll end up getting what you usually do. he gets onto his feet, wallet in hand, when you're finally set to order.
"hi. good morning, how are you?" your sweet voice tickles his ear as he approaches, his heart warm and sated as you go through your usual routine.
"hey." he presses a kiss to your head, wrapping a hand around your waist. his lips trail down, stopping at your cheek, a smile pressed against the skin as he hears you giggle. "what's taking so long?"
the cashier smiles, amused at the sight. "mornin' i'm great. how about you two lovebirds?"
"we're good," he answers for you both, an easy-going expression on his face. he looks down, scrunching his nose at you while you giggle at his answer. "just waiting for this angel to finish ordering."
"we'll have matcha latte, caramel macchiato, and a blueberry cheesecake please. the usual." he tilts his head, looking for your confirmation. he smiles proudly, chest puffing when you nod your head.
"i'll pay," you say as you show your card to the cashier, smiling at her. he chuckles, letting you take the bill this time. "how much will it be?"
the drinks are out in a second, the green and brown a contrast against each other. there are two pairs of utensils on the plate, and he thanks the staff for their work, taking the tray into his hand. "i'll take these to our table first, okay?" he looks over his shoulder, a gentle look in his eye as he processes just how... domestic this all feels.
"yeah, i'll be there in a minute. i need to go to the bathroom." you smile at the cashier one last time, tucking your purse into your bag. you glare playfully, poking your tongue at him. "don't you dare finish the cheesecake before i'm back."
he pokes his tongue back, a laugh breaking loose from his chest. "no promises."
he sits back down, placing the food on the table as he goes back to drumming his fingers. the rain doesn't look as if it'll be stopping any time soon, wind combining with water to shower the earth clean. he looks at his watch, mentally thinking about making dinner later with you. a smile grows at the thought.
there's a shadow in the corner of his eye that he assumes is you. he smiles, ready to lean over and press a kiss, only to stop when his eyes meet a stranger instead. "sorry." he backs away, a furrow in his eyebrow as he looks around, searching for you. "you've got the wrong table."
"no. it's okay. i've definitely got the right table." the stranger lays it thick with a high-pitched tone, and fluttering eyelashes. "hi, handsome. here's my number."
he watches as she slips a piece of paper onto the table, confusion blending into annoyance when she leans over to take his hand. "look," he says with a frown, pushing his hands into his pockets. he's very obviously looking in the direction you went off in. "you've got the wrong table and i'm already with someone."
"ah but i don't see this someone?" the smile on her face is pushing at his limits. his jaw ticks when she moves to sit beside him. "c'mon, handsome. give me a chance."
the bathroom door by the end opens with a creak, and his head snaps at the sound. before she has time to reach over once again, he's quick to swerve away to your side. you're already eyeing the girl at your table with curiosity, your head tilted in question. "hey, who's that? one of your frien-"
he doesn't let you finish. he's quick to reach for your waist, tugging you into a kiss with a hand cupping your cheek. all negative feelings drain from his limbs, turning him into a puddle of love as you thread your fingers into his hair.
"as much as i love your kisses," you say with a gasp of breath as you look up into his eyes, finding love looking back at you through the orbs. "that was a bit sudden. did something happen?"
"not at all." he shakes his head, nuzzling into your nose. his hands are on the side of your neck, lovingly stroking the skin. "not now that you're here."
you look back at your table, seeing it empty, and the girl from before nowhere in sight.
"shall we enjoy our drinks?" he pushes you with the hand he has on your waist. he sits down first before pulling you to sit right beside him, your hands intertwined under the table. "can't wait to eat dinner with you later."
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. he won't say no to playful flirting since it feeds his ego but will only respond if you're somewhere near or in his field of vision. he won't give the other person any of his attention if you aren't. will think it's funny that they're trying their best but will either shoot them down in a way that crushes their pride or brush them off as if they don't exist.
reo, aiku, karasu, kaiser.
the bass is thrumming against his skull, a tune that doesn't fit the mall's calm and serene energy. he's sitting on one of those plush sofas in a clothing store outlet, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waits for you to finish changing. he feels the warning glare the manager's sending, and he snorts as if trying to go into the dressing room with you is a crime. he would be so much more satisfied with you between four cramped walls than in the wide space where people are obviously gawking at him.
"excuse me." someone calls his name timidly, and he cocks his head towards them, wanting to see where this goes. they send him a smile, one that's too teethy and falsely sweet but hey he can't fault them for not flashing his favorite smile; they aren't you after all.
"yes?" his reply is short and blunt, but he sighs when the girl flinches away. you've always said that his resting face looked too mean. he chuckles at the thought.
shaking himself out of his daydream, he shows his best smile. he leans back, arm stretched out against the back of the couch as he adjusts his pose, manspreading. a peacock, you'd once muse when he first did it in front of you. he watches with thinly veiled boredom in his eyes, a juxtaposition to the sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. "can i help you with something?"
the girl flushes, biting her lip and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. being coy, he realizes with an amused scoff.
"sorry to bother you. it's just- you looked so bored. i thought i could entertain you."
his eyebrow quirks at the word entertain, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "and how would you do that, hm?" he takes her in, taking in her choice of clothing and hairstyle. cute he'd give that much to her. nothing like you, though. she couldn't compare.
he realizes belatedly that the once over was seen differently than what he meant for it to come across. amusement flickers in his eyes when she flushes a bright red, fidgeting on her spot. "you do this often?" he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded, trying to gauge her reaction. "flirting with random strangers in the mall of a hobby, eh?"
"just the handsome ones," she says with a giggle. he watches as she points a finger to the row of clothes, her interest clear as day. "how about we look around? buy some clothes or jewelry so we match."
he chuckles, shaking his head at the thought. he can't wait to tell you about this. right on cue, the door to your dressing room opens, and you step out. his breath gets stuck in his throat, his eyes widening, and a grin making its way to his lips.
the black dress you have on is nothing short of stunning. it tapers off to your knees, the material hugging your curves. he sends you an eager look, one which you giggle at. you turn, showing him the back of the dress, keeping eye contact as you do. his mouth falls and thoughts short circuit as his eyes rake down your bare back, stopping just before your bum.
oh the things he'll do to you in that dress. no wonder the manager was so adamant on not letting him join in on the fun.
"nah," he says distractedly at the girl still waiting for his response. he sends you a wink and a flirty smile, mouthing one moment, before turning back to her. "see that gorgeous specimen right there? yeah i'm hers."
"she and i, we match." his eyes are filled with mischief as he tugs his shirt down, showing off the collection of marks you left on him last night. the skin around his collarbone is red, purple, and bruised. littered with love bites. a symbol of your love he thinks smugly. "see?"
there's pride blooming in his chest, a smug smile forming on his face the moment her eyes widen and the color drains from her face. "i'm not interested in anyone who's not her. so scram." he's quick to wave her away, skipping over to tug you back into the fitting room, this time with him in it.
𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐂𝐄, the type to literally not care at all. will not give them time of day and will appear hostile if necessary. but he'll mostly just look at them, expressionless with dead eyes.
sae, rin, kunigami
there are so many options to choose from, he frowns, glaring at the row of refrigerators stacked next to each other as if they've done something wrong. the supermarket is relatively busy, customers ranging from middle schoolers to elderly. he's in the drink section, passing one fridge to another, looking for your favorite drink from outside the glass, his frowning reflection looking back at him.
you're somewhere in the dairy section, picking out pints of ice cream, and who knows what else. he checks his phone, checking for any new messages from you. i'll head over soon, after i find the popcorn, it reads along with multiple hearts and photos of you smiling beside the ice cream. he shakes his head, tapping a finger against the screen to save the photos.
he pockets his phone, ready to move on to the next isle when he bumps into someone. he huffs, his eyes looking at the girl that's staring right back at him.
"really?" she says with a flirty giggle after she gets a clear look at his face. he remains stoic, hands in his pocket, even as she nudges him on the shoulder as if a longtime friend. "you're handsome but if you don't say sorry when you bump into someone, they'll lose interest. but maybe that's your charm."
he moves to slight past her, not at all caring about her presence, but before he knows it, she's stuck a hand into his back pocket, sending a kiss playfully before bounding over somewhere he doesn't give a damn about. the frown on his lips deepens, but before he has the chance to look into his pocket, you pop up right beside him.
"hey, i can't find the drinks but i've got everything else." he hears you say as you show him your basket full of things, smiling up at him. there are all kinds of things in the basket, ranging from chocolate, popcorn, ice cream, sausages, and many more. tonight is monthly movie night and he tries to shake off the weird encounter from his mind, not wanting to dampen the mood.
he smiles back, leaning down to take the basket from you. the hoodie you have on is his, and it dwarves you. the hem reaches your knees, and he can't see your hands which makes him chuckle all the while more. you told him that you were cold, he knows it's just another excuse to wear his hoodie.
"let's go home." he ruffles a hand through your hair, affection getting the best of him, before taking your hand with his other.
he drops the basket on the self-checkout counter, and helps you scan all the necessary items. he eyes the chupa-chups by the counter and grabs two, strawberry and cola, scanning both and handing them for you to choose. he chuckles when you brighten, choosing the strawberry for yourself.
"i'll take the bags." he takes both bags into his left hand, the other placing itself on your back. he leads you out, shaking his head in amusement when he feels you slip your hand into his back pocket.
"hey what's this?" the tone of your voice has him frowning. "i didn't know you smoke. it's bad for you, ya know?"
looking down at the cigarette in your hand, he eyes the scribble of numbers surrounding the stick. ah that's what she slipped in, he sighs. taking the cigarette from you, he's quick to throw it to the ground, crushing it with his foot.
"i don't," he chuckles at the look of disbelief on your face. leaning in, he plucks the candy from your mouth, pressing a kiss and pushing his tongue in. you taste sweet from the candy he notes, you smell like ice cream too. he's quick to pull back, chuckling when he realizes just how flustered you've become.
"i prefer sweets," he says with a smug smile before popping the candy into his own mouth.
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