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It's an indisputable fact that Nagasone throws the best house parties. As a third year, he's perfected the arts of bad music that sounds good to drunk ears, of somehow procuring just enough snacks and booze to get the party started, of inviting all the fun people and booting the troublemakers back out into the curb. Whenever an invitation arrives in Horikawa's inbox he knows he can't say no and neither can the rest of the group. There's no better time to be had.
It's also an indisputable fact that Horikawa is horribly drunk. He's sitting in Kanesada's lap, a bottle of something sweet and cheap in one hand, and he's laughing so hard that tears are leaking from the corners of his eyes. He can't for the life of him remember why but that's just fine. There's no better place to sit.
Another indisputable and unavoidable fact is that Kanesada is even more drunk than Horikawa. He's lounging back on the chair they had pulled up to one corner, cheeks red and hair a tantalisingly messy cascade down his back and shoulders. With one arm looped around Horikawa's waist and the other waving a bottle of beer around, he's fighting tears of laughter as well. There's no better sight in the world.
That is until his eyes fix on something over Horikawa's shoulder and he begins to frown. It's a shame that his eyes are so, so blue because it takes Horikawa an inordinately long amount of time to react to his change in expression. He's too drunk to comprehend that this man - this handsome, kind, perfect man - is not only his best friend but something closer to his lover. He's not worthy. He's not earned it.
He's not paying attention.
"Earth to Kunihiro," Kanesada slurs, leaning forwards to see better over Horikawa's shoulder. "Listen."
"I am, I am," he lies.
"Look."
"Where?"
"Stop being difficult!"
Kanesada uses a hand on the back of Horikawa's head - also distracting - to turn him around enough that he can look across the room. The usual crowd are present; Nagasone's older friends doing something exciting with a beer keg and funnels, a group of sporty types arm wrestling, Kiyomitsu and Yasusada bickering and making out in turns. After a while, Horikawa spots what must be making Kanesada frown. One person isn't in a group. He's sitting on the arm of a couch, eyes narrowed in concentration and fixed on Horikawa himself. He's holding a beer but not drinking it and at one of Nagasone's parties that's just unthinkable.
"Mutsunokami-san?" Horikawa frowns and turns back to Kanesada who's frown has deepened. "Has he upset you or something, Kane-san?"
Even to his addled mind this seems unlikely. A classmate of Horikawa's on a cross-course module, Mutsunokami is always loud but never anything less than friendly. He's never looked quite so serious.
"He's been staring at you this whole time," Kanesada huffs. "I don't like it."
Horikawa really likes that Kanesada doesn't like it but he's not so far gone that he thinks it's a good idea to say this aloud. He settles for shrugging and leaning a little closer to Kanesada's chest.
"I wonder why? Maybe he's curious about why we only have one chair."
"Huh."
No one has asked them about their seating arrangement, not even Kiyomitsu and Yasusada. It's easier that way, of course; this thing between them hasn't got a name and they sooner fall into bed together than talk about it. It's relieving that no one is curious. Relieving but a little bit disappointing too.
"I know why he's staring," Kanesada says suddenly. "He's jealous."
"Of what?"
"He's jealous of how gorgeous you are."
Laughing again, Horikawa can't help but lean forwards, moving his mouth close to Kanesada's ear. Warmth floods out from his chest and through his veins, a joyful and tingling sensation.
"Or he's jealous of how handsome you are," he says, "and he's plotting to kill me."
"Pfft!" Kanesada pulls him closer and Horikawa happily forgets to look concerned about his imminent murder. "He'll have to kill me first."
"Mm?" It shouldn't be sexy. It is anyway. "That's so cool."
"Obviously."
"Kane-san?"
Horikawa drops his bottle in favour of winding his arms around Kanesada's neck. A glance at their other friends confirms that they're too busy with each other to care. Mutsunokami is still staring.
"Can we go back to your room yet?" Horikawa asks, smiling as Kanesada gives him a hungry look up and down.
"Soon," he promises. "But let me glare at him some more first."
Horikawa settles back down into his lap and steals his all but forgotten bottle of beer.
"If it makes you happy, Kane-san."
Mutsunokami is not having a good day. He had tried to laugh it off and when that hadn't worked had spent a solid few hours with a punching bag. Going to the party that Nagasone had been bugging about had seemed like a good idea at the time and he had regretted it only moments after arriving. It's not the party itself, no, that's just as cool as always. It's the guy sitting in the corner with the widest smile he's ever seen, the polite little guy who's been making his life miserable.
Horikawa Kunihiro. It's not his fault that he's the bane of Mutsuonokami's existence. If he knew he would probably apologise and that only makes it worse.
Horikawa Kunihiro. The short and jovial business student who shares his economics module. The guy who is always on time and neat and tidy but says he has no time at all to study. The one who claims he hasn't revised but beats Mutsonokami on every test. The one who gets things first time and answers Mutsonokami's questions when the teacher can't phrase them in a way he understands.
Horikawa Kunihiro. The guy who seems to spend most afternoons practicing kendo but who gets called in to sub for other teams. The one with no height, no reach and no practice that ran circles around Mutsonokami on the basketball court last Thursday. The one who had asked him for pointers on how to improve.
Horikawa. Kunihiro. The kid who's obviously super smart, painfully nice and does great at, well, everything. The one who's only flaw is that he prefers samurai movies to westerns. The one that Mutsunokami can't bring himself to hate.
"You're not allowed to be sad at my party."
Nagasone appears at his shoulder and offers him a roguish grin which he returns.
"I'm not sad!" he protests. "I'm just thinkin'."
"That's dangerous for you."
"Tell me about it!"
Mutsunokami remembers there's a beer in his hands and promptly drains it, handing the empty to Nagasone who is just drunk enough to take it off his hands.
"So what are you thinking about?" he asks.
"Somethin's up with Horikawa," Mutsonokami decides, sneaking a look back at his good natured rival. "Somethin' smells bad."
Following his gaze, Nagasone lets out a short bark of laughter. He slings an arm around Mutsonokami's shoulders and nods.
"Something is definitely up."
"Right? It's-"
"It's Horikawa."
"What?"
Nagasone wiggles both of his eyebrows until Mutsonokami catches up and shoves at him.
"Aw, quit messin' with me! It's a party, people are always sittin' on each other like that. 'Specially at yours."
"Right. So what's the problem?"
It's difficult for Mutsunokami to put words to his suspicions. He glares over at the pair in the corner for a few moments and then shakes his head. Something is definitely going on whether Nagasone believes it or not. Horikawa is too nice and successful. He doesn't seem real. Mutsunokami knows only one person should have aced that last test and it was him, he'd put in the time and the revision and the effort. No way had Horikawa beaten him fairly on no sleep. Not a chance.
"You're friends with that guy too, right?" he asks suddenly, nodding at the long-haired guy that Horikawa is using as a chair. It's only as he points that Mutsonokami realises he's glaring at him. Weird. Alarm bells start ringing in his head.
"Both of 'em yeah," Nagasone shrugs. "What did you do to piss Izuminokami off?"
"Nothin'! But I don't like his face. What's his secret?"
"Something to do with Horikawa I guess."
Nagasone doesn't elaborate and Mutsonokami stares at him until he laughs again.
"You really don't get it, do you?"
"Aha, so there is somethin'!"
Getting to his feet with a sharp grin, Mutsonokami feels better already. He's onto it now. This Izuminokami guy has got to be behind Horikawa's weirdness. And even if he isn't he's glaring hard enough that it's become personal.
"I'm gonna get to the bottom of this," he tells Nagasone who is shaking his head in slow disbelief. "Just ya wait."
Kiyomitsu is draped over Yasusada's shoulders like a red scarf, lips close to his ear and his eyes narrowed to slits. Both of them are watching the guy that Nagasone is laughing at with unabashed suspicion.
"I'm going to slap him," Kiyomitsu decides. Yasusada looks to the other side of the room and shakes his head.
"I'm going to slap them."
Horikawa is dangling from Kanesada's neck, apparently oblivious to the line of fire between him and the stranger glaring at them from across the room. Horikawa sways, stops just short of touching his cheek to Kanesada's, and laughs. Kiyomitsu pulls a face.
"Ugh, could they be any more obvious?"
"Kiyomitsu," Yasusada says gently. "Five minutes ago, you literally had your hand down my-"
"That's not the point!"
He slithers down from Yasusada's shoulders to drape against his side instead, pouting in irritation.
"People know we're dating," he says after a moment. "So it's different. But they haven't even told us. They haven't said anything at all!"
In an effort to calm Kiyomitsu's whiny voice before it gets up to full speed, Yasusada shrugs.
"Maybe they're not?" he suggests.
A full minute passes in silence.
"Maybe he knows," Kiyomitsu continues as if Yasusada had never spoken, head snapping back to watch the glaring stranger. "Maybe he's going to try something."
Yasusada tenses, his usual easy drunken smile turning icy.
"Like break them up?"
"Or beat them up."
They watch as Horikawa drags Kanesada to his feet and the two of them stumble out of the room towards the front door, hand in hand. They watch as the offending stranger gets to his feet as soon as they're out of sight and heads straight to the snacks table as if he had been too busy to eat before. They watch as Nagasone holds a smaller ginger boy upside down by the ankles over a bowl of tequila and then remember what they were doing.
"We're gonna find out what he's up to," Yasusada decides.
"Damn right we are! We-"
Pulling Kiyomitsu into his lap, Yasusada interrupts him rudely with a messy kiss.
"Starting tomorrow," he says.
Kiyomitsu doesn't argue.
It's a week later and it's not a date. Horikawa has to keep reminding himself of this as he spends far too much time getting ready.
Kanesada had asked if he wanted to go to town together to have lunch. Nothing exceptional, just something they've always done. Regardless, Horikawa feels as if this time is A Thing even if it's not a date. Perhaps it was because he had asked while they were tangled up in each other’s arms and still naked and sweaty from having sex. They've been sleeping together for a few months and Kanesada is always sweet in the aftermath. He had asked about the lunch not-date with a peaceful, fond smile and Horikawa can't help but think it means something.
They had agreed not to give it a name, this thing between them. That's fine, really, Horikawa is totally cool with that. He's sure. Definitely.
He spends almost an hour picking an outfit and fixing his hair and certainly not thinking about it at all.
Kanesada arrives to pick him up and is fashionably ten minutes late as always.
"I was stopped by some of the guys," is his excuse. "Sorry, Kunihiro."
His hair is unbelievably well brushed considering he must have done it himself and he's wearing a new shirt that fits snugly to his shoulders in all the right places. 'Stopped by the guys' indeed.
"You look great, Kane-san."
"Don't I?"
Kanesada pauses a moment, eyes roving up and down Horikawa in a way that puts him in mind of locked doors and dim lights.
"Skinny jeans are definitely your thing," he says at length. Horikawa beams. "And isn't that the shirt I bought you last Christmas?"
"Yes!"
It's a dark blue, silky thing that he's never been brave enough to wear before. Kanesada's smile makes him wonder why it took him so long.
"Where would you like to go?" he asks.
“You’ll see.”
Kanesada hesitates a moment, raising a hand between them and staring at it in confusion before letting it drop again.
“Let’s just go, okay? My treat.”
He looks nervous and stubborn all at once and Horikawa has to swallow down an urge to say something stupid.
“All right,” he says instead. “If you’re sure.”
Kanesada gives him a winning smile and leads the way out. Horikawa pauses in the doorway, clenching his hands into fists. How hard would it be to just get it over with, to just ask him out and deal with the consequences good or bad?
“C’mon Kunihiro, or I’ll leave you behind!”
Too hard. Especially when his heart is fluttering just from this. He hurries after Kanesada with a spring in his step that he can’t conceal.
Mutsunokami has his mouth full of takoyaki when he sees them.
They’re heading down the path that leads out of campus and into town, chatting away as they go. Horikawa is more dressed up than Mutsunokami has ever seen him before and this Izuminokami guy is looking pretty smooth as well. As he talks, Horikawa beams up at him, cheeks tinged red.
Narrowing his eyes, Mutsunokami tries to put two and two together.
Two guys, dressed up smart, one hanging on every word the other says as if it’s really important. Horikawa is always busy, doesn’t get enough sleep and rushes off at the end of class. There’s only one logical answer.
“He’s being blackmailed!”
As they disappear out of sight, Mutsunokami shoves the last of his takoyaki into his mouth and begins following them down the path. That bastard, taking advantage of Horikawa. He’s not sure just what leverage Izuminokami has over Horikawa but it doesn’t matter; Horikawa is too nice a guy to be being used like that. Maybe Izuminokami writes his essays and is a secret genius. Maybe he coaches him in sport all night and that’s why he’s so tired. Whatever it is, it has to stop.
No, someone has to be the hero here. Saving his rival had never been something he would have expected but Mutsunokami won’t ever back down from a challenge if it means doing the right thing.
“Don’t worry, Horikawa,” he says as he hurries after them, keeping in the shadows of buildings and trees. “I’m coming.”
“Okay this is ridiculous.”
“Shut up, he’ll hear us!”
‘This’ is the way that both Yasusada and Kiyomitsu are trying to hide behind the same lamppost. ‘He’ is the guy from the party, the one they had only remembered when they stumbled across him five minutes ago.
They had been shopping, which meant Kiyomitsu had been dragging Yasusada into clothes stores and forcing him to try things on. Kiyomitsu had been whining about this season’s fashion when they had seen him. He was difficult to miss, darting from side to side on the street and ducking behind bushes, signs and groups of people whenever possible. Suspicious, Kiyomitsu had decided, and so they had been following him through town, using the twin spikes of his wild hair as above the crowds as a guide.
He has stopped behind a trash can outside a family restaurant and is checking his phone. Kiyomitsu presses himself close to Yasusada, hiding behind him being far easier than behind the lamppost, and snaps a photo with his phone.
“Look, it could be a coincidence,” Yasusada whispers, always the voice of reason. “Maybe he’s just, well, weird?”
“No one is this weird,” Kiyomitsu snaps back. “He’s up to something! Let’s get closer.”
“But I-“
“Come on!”
Grabbing Yasusada’s hand, Kiyomitsu pulls him closer, following the steps that the stalker had taken moments before. As he shuffles forwards into the lobby of the restaurant, Kiyomitsu pulls Yasusada behind the same dustbin he had just vacated.
“Seriously, Kiyomitsu? Seriously?”
“Shh!”
“It stinks.”
“Will you shut up?”
“You stink.”
“I do not, you take that-“
Kiyomitsu pauses with his hand poised on its way to slap Yasusada in the face. His eyes widen and he points through the window of the restaurant instead.
“I told you!” he hisses. “Look!”
Yasusada looks. Inside the restaurant, the stalker is being shown to a booth on his own. Weird but not exactly criminal. Even as he’s handed a menu he’s peering into the next booth over. Following his gaze, Yasusada can’t help but groan.
“Oh god, what are they doing?” he asks.
“Being gay.”
In the booth next to the stalker sits Horikawa and Kanesada. Between them sits the biggest ice-cream Yasusada has ever seen in his life. The location isn’t exactly romantic but Horikawa is all smiles, leaning on his hands and all but fluttering his eyelashes while Kanesada blushes. In the next booth over, the stalker is peering over his menu and glaring at them.
“I can’t watch.”
“Too bad. We’re going.”
Kiyomitsu grabs Yasusada’s hand and begins dragging him towards the door against all of his protests.
“We have to monitor the situation,” he explains in an undertone. “Find out what he’s up to.”
“Can’t I just ask?”
“Don’t you dare ruin their date!”
“This is ridiculous,” he says again. The stalker, the idea of stalking him in turn, the fact that their friends are so obvious but think they’re so secretive. All of it is beyond ridiculous.
Kiyomitsu pushes the door open and tugs at Yasusada’s sleeve.
“Hold my hand so that he doesn’t make a move on me,” he whispers.
“What?” Yasusada frowns. “Why would he?”
Kiyomitsu pulls a face and digs his nails into the back of Yasusada’s hand.
“Bitch, I’m way cuter than Horikawa. Come on.”
The family restaurant is one they’ve visited before. In fact, it’s Horikawa’s favourite. In the old part of town it has a special charm and a nice view of the park from the windows. He’s sure he had mentioned this at some point and so can’t help but smile like an idiot as Kanesada requests his favourite seat.
It’s not a date. At least, no one has called it a date. Yet.
They had chatted about the usual topics while eating their meals. Kanesada had asked about his studies, pretending to understand the details. Horikawa had in turn asked about sport and ‘the guys’ from the gym. They had laughed together about how drunk Kiyomitsu had been at Nagasone’s party and failed to mention that they had also been so drunk that they had ended up making out in the back garden.
It had been nice but something felt off. Kanesada had ordered them ice cream which was definitely not normal and then just sat there once it arrived. Frowning, Horikawa reached out for his hand.
“Is something the matter, Kane-san?”
“Hah? No, of course not.”
“Did you not want ice cream?”
Kanesada shook his head and gently laced his fingers with Horikawa, leaving him light-headed. Getting back from kendo and jumping into bed together? That’s easy. Holding hands in public? This is new territory. He does his best not to move a muscle but can’t withhold a smile.
“So do we… eat it?”
Kanesada looks between Horikawa and the ice cream several times before shaking his head and running his free hand through the lengths of his hair. He won’t meet Horikawa’s eyes as he lets go of his hand and reaches for the spoon.
“I’m full,” he says, voice strangely terse. “But you should eat it. So. Uh.”
Horikawa watches as Kanesada manages to scoop up a spoonful of ice cream and hold it out towards him. The spoon is not long enough and the table is too wide to make it easy but he’d rather jump out of a window than miss this opportunity. Kanesada’s cheeks are crimson and that’s reason enough; he can’t make this effort all for nothing.
He probably bruises a rib leaning forwards far enough to reach the spoon with his mouth and when he finally does manage the ice cream is so cold it hurts his teeth.
It’s worth it. Especially when Kanesada risks meeting his eyes and reaches for his hand again.
This is probably what dying feels like. Horikawa is sure the butterflies in his stomach are strong enough to lift him up and carry him to heaven. He tucks his feet under the seat just in case.
“Do you, uh…”
Kanesada fills the spoon up again and raises a hand to cover his eyes as if by not looking he can stop feeling embarrassed. It’s probably the loveliest thing Horikawa has ever seen.
“Wanna finish it?” he asks. Horikawa nods even though he can’t see and leans forward once again.
It takes an agonisingly long time to finish the ice cream. When it’s done, Horikawa has managed to smile through three bouts of brain freeze and his hand is sweaty where Kanesada is gripping it so tightly. He hurts, he feels sick he’s eaten so much, and he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s not okay with this being A Nameless Thing any longer. As the ice cream is cleared away, he reaches for Kanesada’s other hand and looks him in the eye.
“Kane-san?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you… do you want to…”
Horikawa thinks of all the hours they’ve spent together over the years. He thinks of their in-jokes, the way that Kanesada understands him like no one else. He thinks of what it would be like to lose that, to lose even an inch of what they have now and maybe he’s a coward but he can’t bring himself to say it.
“Do you still want to go to Nagasone’s tonight?”
His voice is quiet and he can’t meet Kanesada’s eyes.
“Of course.” Both of his hands are squeezed. “What’s up, Kunihiro? You look pale.”
“I just need some fresh air, I guess.”
Kanesada nods and signals for their bill. It’s difficult, so difficult, but Horikawa lets go of his hands and sits back in his seat.
Not yet. Not today. Why ruin something as wonderful as a not-date like this?
When it comes to the Good Guy ™, Mutsunokami has a pretty solid understanding of how things should go. He’s watched enough movies to understand. The Good Guy ™ usually rides a white horse and has his father’s old pistol, he’s got some sport he’s good at that he can play with his friends and he always treats a lady fine.
Blackmailers are not Good Guys. This is where the problems start.
It’s difficult to hear all of the conversation from his own booth without just leaning around and getting himself noticed. Mutsunokami settles for hiding behind first his menu and then the sizeable burger he orders and just listening really hard. He expects to hear all sorts of secrets, all manner of threats, insults spilling from Izuminokami’s lips. He looks the sort to be mean. Who has hair that long in this day and age anyway? He’s weird.
As time passes, ‘weird’ isn’t the only word that springs to Mutsunokami’s mind. He’s enthusiastic, to the point and easily embarrassed. He’s slow to understand jokes and when he tries to make his own it’s downright embarrassing. Their conversations jump from topic to topic but he can form some conclusions easily. They seem to be childhood friends, ones who have the same hobbies and spend a lot of time together. There are awkward pauses in conversation that get filled in with laughter and when he dares to sneak a look they’re holding hands.
A Bad Guy ™ doesn’t hold hands. Following this logic, Mutsunokami has to face some difficult conclusions.
Izuminokami doesn’t have a white horse but he had held the door for Horikawa as he entered. He’s nowhere near cool enough to have a pistol but he does talk about the earrings he’s wearing, ones Horikawa had apparently bought him years before. He’s really into kendo and weightlifting which is pretty cool, especially when he and Horikawa start talking tactics to defeat their rivals (or friends, Mutsunokami isn’t quite sure).
And while there are no ladies to treat fine but Izuminokami sure does look out for Horikawa. He orders the food, he asks whether it’s all right and he foots the bill. He does seem to have trouble with the math but doesn’t let Horikawa pay for a thing. Eventually they sweep past Mutsunokami, still chattering away, and he ducks underneath the table in search of a mystery lost item until they’re gone.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” he asks the remains of his burger.
Blackmailers would never fit so many of the Good Guy ™ criteria so that theory is out the window. And no one who messes up a simple food bill would be able to help Horikawa ace that exam.
Mutsunokami is confused and there’s no burger left to eat. He swiftly pays his own bill and gets up to continue the chase. There’s an answer here somewhere, there has to be, and he’s going to find it. Sure so Horikawa seems happy but victims get like that sometimes, right?
“I’m comin’ buddy,” he murmurs as he leaves the restaurant, checking the street up and down to catch sight of the pair before they disappear.
“This is so gay.”
Sitting across the restaurant, Kiyomitsu and Yasusada are sharing a bowl of fries and speaking in a furtive undertone. Being caught is ‘unacceptable’ according to Kiyomitsu and so they are sat as far away as possible. By holding up a hand mirror and angling it just right, Kiyomitsu can see both of their friends and the stalker across the room.
“What are they doing?” Yasusada asks. “Also, you’re literally gay.”
“He’s feeding Horikawa ice cream,” Kiyomitsu mutters. “Also, shut your face.”
“Are they still holding hands?”
“Yes.”
“We’re not even holding hands.”
“That’s because yours are covered in ketchup.”
Yasusada shrugs and picks up another fry, expression suggesting that ketchup is better than any physical contact could ever be.
“Is he still watching?” he asks.
“He’s listening,” Kiyomitsu mutters. “I just know he is. What the hell is his deal?”
Yasusada has to admit that it’s pretty weird. He would probably care more but his feet hurt from shopping and really he’d like to get back to their room and finish the videogame he had been playing. Instead he’s being forced to hear commentary on what’s probably supposed to be a private date and wonder why anyone would follow idiots like Horikawa and Kanesada around.
“Oh! They’re leaving.”
“Thank god.”
Yasusada finishes off the fries and licks the ketchup from his fingers in the silence that follows.
“Oh! He’s leaving too.”
“I didn’t want to hear that,” Yasusada groans.
He stands up, completely ignoring the way Kiyomitsu gasps and flaps at him, and looks over to the other side of the room. Outside the window. Horikawa and Kanesada are heading down the street. Inside, the stalker is staring after them and hurrying for the door.
“I’ve had enough of this.”
He slings some money on the table and begins heading towards the door, Kiyomitsu bustling after him. The stalker just beats them out into the street. Once the door closes behind them, Yasusada points to where the stalker is beginning to follow the others down the street.
Kiyomitsu is stressing, pressing one hand to his mouth.
“What do we do now?” he asks.
Narrowing his eyes, Yasusada cracks his knuckles in answer. Kiyomitsu’s eyes widen.
“God, that’s hot,” he whispers. Yasusada grabs his arm and pulls him onwards.
“I’m busy right now,” he says in the calm voice he has always reserved for violence. “You can have my fists later.”
“Oh my god, shut up!”
“Just come on.”
They don’t hold hands on the walk through town.
Horikawa is horribly aware of this fact, of the way their hands hang in the air between them. Strange really, presumably his hands always hand like this but it feels unnatural somehow, as if not holding hands is something so strange and awkward that the whole town is going to notice.
“You should wear that shirt tonight,” Kanesada says suddenly, clearing his throat immediately after.
“All right.”
“You should… uh…”
They lapse back into silence, Horikawa’s hand still hanging stupidly at his side as if it’s made of lead. Kanesada has nice hands; he’s always thought so. He has long fingers and pale skin, just enough callouses from sport to make them feel nice without them looking untidy. Horikawa thinks about the way they slip so easily under his clothes and can’t deny the thrill that runs through him. He then thinks about how they run through his hair sometimes, the way they neatly fit around his own. There’s another thrill there too, completely different and just as strong, maybe even more so.
Whatever it means, he knows that he wants to hold hands. Nothing more, just a simple touch. He’d never realised how hard it could be.
“Wanna stay over tonight?” Kanesada asks, seemingly oblivious to Horikawa’s internal struggles.
“Hm? Sure. If you don’t mind.”
“If we leave the party early we can…” Kanesada struggles for a moment and then shrugs. “I really like that shirt on you, so…”
“I can leave it on if you like.”
Kanesada’s blush is bright enough that Horikawa finds the bravery to reach for his hand. For a moment he stops walking, eyes wide. Horikawa wears an expression more confident than he feels and waits with held breath.
“We, uh, don’t have to… you know…”
Kanesada carefully squeezes his hand and then nods to himself before beginning to walk again.
“I’d just like for you to stay,” Kanesada mumbles.
The butterflies in his stomach begin to dance. Horikawa wonders if he’s light enough to just float along.
“Are they holdin’ hands?”
Mutsunokami realises he should have stayed silent a moment too late to hide. Fortunately a pair of strong hands grabs him by the back of the shirt and he’s pulled into an alleyway before the pair can turn to see who had shouted at them. He stumbles forwards, hearing footsteps behind him.
“What the-“
“Shut up.”
Before he can turn to look he’s grabbed by the shoulders and slammed back against the alley wall. His instincts scream at him to fight back and he’s already started winding up a punch when he realises he recognises his attackers. Nagasone’s friends, the one with the messy hair and the one who always wears lipstick to parties. The latter is standing back with his arms folded while the former pins Mutsunokami to the wall, his blue eyes cold.
“The hell d’ya want?” he asks, raising his hands in surrender.
“You’re stalking our friends,” Yasusada says, voice quiet. “Why?”
“No way!” Mutsunokami splutters. “I was just in town and got hungry so I-“
“I don’t like liars,” Yasusada says firmly.
“He broke someone’s fingers for it once,” Kiyomitsu supplies from behind him.
He doesn’t need to surrender. Mutsunokami knows he could take them both, no sweat. He gives in because he’s a hero and heroes don’t hurt misguided vigilantes.
“I wanted to know what Izuminokami’s secret is!”
His voice is dramatic. The reaction isn’t. The two share a look before Yasusada tries again.
“What secret?”
“Whatever his deal with Horikawa is!” Mutsunokami waves a hand in the air enthusiastically as he explains. “Horikawa always gets the best grades, ya know? But he says he’s tired all the time and that’s not right! They spend all their time together’n he was givin’ me real evils at the party last week so I thought…”
Now that he says it aloud he’s not sure how to finish. Izuminokami doesn’t seem to be a bad guy. Hell, following him had been more boring than anything. And if listening to their conversation has taught him anything it’s that Horikawa is smart whether he’s in class or not.
“Evidently,” Kiyomitsu says slowly, stepping forwards as Yasusada lets Mutsunokami go. “You’re just stupid.”
“You know that it’s the other way around right?” Yasusada points out. “Without Horikawa, Kanesada would have flunked out by now.”
“But he’s so…”
In unison, the three of them shrug.
“That’s just Horikawa for you,” Kiyomitsu sighs. “Effortless. It makes me sick.”
“Me too.”
“Hey, me three!”
The dramatics being over, Yasusada pulls at his hair and slips back into his usual cheerful smile.
“Stop following them, okay? And no hard feelings.”
“Sure, no sweat!”
Mutsunokami waves them goodbye as they leave, already bickering between themselves. He stays still a moment longer, thinking over the day. It still feels off. Horikawa still has a secret, he’s sure of it. But maybe that’s all right.
“At least I got a good meal out of it,” he tells himself.
Good enough that he’s hungry all over again. Worn out from playing detective, he heads back inside for another burger.
It’s an indisputable fact that Nagasone holds too many house parties.
Here they are again, the same house, the same chair, the same sickly sweet alcohol. The only difference is that Kanesada isn’t as drunk and Horikawa is virtually sober. He realises that this is a fatal flaw when Kanesada looks over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.
“He’s back,” he hisses.
“Who?”
“The guy that was staring at us.”
Horikawa twists in Kanesada’s lap in time to see Mutsunokami not just staring but walking straight towards them with a big and benevolent smile. He waves in greeting and then crouches down on the floor next to them.
“Yo, Horikawa! What’s up?”
“Hello, Mutsunokami-san,” he says cheerfully, ignoring the way Kanesada growls. “How are you?”
“I’ve got a question for ya, actually.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“How do ya get such good grades all the time?”
Taken aback, Horikawa isn’t sure how to answer. Kanesada huffs slightly behind him as Mutsunokami starts speaking again.
“See, I revised real hard for that last exam and you still kicked my ass. I just wanted to know if there was some trick to always doin’ as well as you do.”
“I told you he was jealous,” Kanesada says, not bothering to whisper. Horikawa elbows him before giving Mutsunokami a wide smile.
“It’s simple,” he says. Mutsunokami nods eagerly. “I’ve got all the support in the world. Failing just isn’t an option, you know?”
Mutsunokami’s eyes widen and he looks between the two of them with comical slowness. At length he slams the fist of his right hand into the palm of his left and gives a raucous laugh.
“I get it!” he exclaims. “Man, it was that simple? You’re a funny guy, Horikawa! You too, Izuminokami.”
“I am?”
“What do you mean I’m fu-“
Mutsunokami stands up, stretches, and nods to them both looking incredibly pleased.
“If I wanna beat ya, I guess I should get myself a boyfriend too, right? Or a girlfriend would be great as well. Can’t be too difficult to sort out. Hah! Later guys!”
He gives them a salute and wanders away towards the snack table. Horikawa blinks after him and then turns back to Kanesada to find him frowning.
“He thinks we’re…”
“Mm, it looks that way.”
“Oh.”
The music is loud and the partygoers are even more so. Still, Horikawa can hear nothing but the silence between them, all the things he could be saying. Kanesada’s hands are warm on the small of his back.
“Why is this so difficult?” he whispers. “I should-“
“Sluts!”
Kiyomitsu has never been any good at reading the mood. Yasusada trails after him as he marches straight up to Horikawa and Kanesada, interrupting what seems to be a quiet moment if the heat in both of their cheeks is any indication. They probably shouldn’t have been pre-drinking. Before he can apologise for Kiyomitsu’s behaviour he has already taken hold of Horikawa and yanked him out of Kanesada’s lap.
“Snacks!” he announces. “Let’s get some. Come on.”
Horikawa doesn’t say anything as he’s led away. Neither does Kanesada. This is such a bad sign that Yasusada pulls up a stray chair.
“What are you worrying about?” he asks, stealing a bottle of beer out of the hand of a passer by and handing it to Kanesada who takes it without question. A regular routine follows.
“So what’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh huh.”
“Nothing!”
“I get it.”
“I need some advice!”
Yasusada merely smiles and waits for it to come out. Maybe they’ve had a fight and Kanesada needs help mediating. That sounds likely. Yasusada is already preparing a speech when Kanesada completely blindsides him.
“How do you go about being gay?”
“…excuse me?”
“So, like, if you sleep with a guy you’re gay right?” Kanesada’s voice grows louder as he talks and he begins waving the bottle around dangerously. Yasusada isn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “So if you keep like, you know, having sex with another guy then you’re definitely, totally gay. And if you’re gay and sleeping with a guy then you should probably date them or some shit. But what if you’ve never been gay before and you don’t feel like you’re doing it right. You should get it right before making a move, you know? Right. Right?!”
“…I guess?”
“So you need to help me! As someone who’s gay now.”
Yasusada can’t help but groan. There are a million things wrong with everything that Kanesada has just said. He could take the time to point them all out but he can see that Kiyomitsu is almost done raiding the snacks table and that time is running short. Something simple will have to do.
“Boobs are great,” he says. “Really great.”
“What? But you’re-“
“Dick’s great too,” he continues. “Pretty damn great.”
“But you-“
“No.”
“So you-“
“Yes.”
“You can be both?”
Yasusada does Kanesada the courtesy of smiling and patting him on the shoulder. He looks like he’s having the biggest crisis of his life and probably deserves a little sympathy.
“Yep. What century are you living in again?”
Before he can answer the other two are standing in front of them. Yasusada is sure he has to take control here. Maybe drag Kiyomitsu away, give the others some alone time. He gets to his feet to do just that and is confused as Kanesada follows suit.
“Kunihiro!” he shouts, dropping his bottle of beer. “I have an idea!”
Horikawa looks between all three of them with evident suspicion.
“If the idea involves tequila again then I don’t want it.”
“No, it’s even better! Go out with me!”
In the silence that follows a number of things happen. Nagasone all but drowns the ginger boy in a bowl of Sambuca. Mutsunokami manages to swipe the last handful of potato chips from the snack table. Kiyomitsu laughs so hard that he almost vomits.
And Horikawa punches Kanesada square in the jaw.
“Oi, what was-“
“Yes, Kane-san! Yes, I will!”
“I’ll ban you if you keep being miserable.”
Mutsunokami has finished with the snacks and is sitting back in the same chair watching the same people. It’s not that he’s not happy for them. Horikawa is probably the nicest little guy he’s ever met and he deserves it. Still, he feels uncomfortable.
“I need to work harder, you know?”
Nagasone slings an arm around his shoulders and presses a glass with a mystery liquid inside into his hands. The third year’s smile is warm and invites conversation. Mutsunokami shrugs.
“I wanna be a great guy,” he says. “A guy like Izuminokami.”
Nagasone snorts.
“Or me?” he asks, nudging Mutsunokami in the ribs.
“Nah,” he says with a grin. “You don’t even try to beat me at basketball.”
“Should I start? If it’s a rival you want.”
“Hey, yeah!”
Grinning, Mutsunokami nods. A rival that’s his size sounds great. Horikawa is too small and too nice to be a good rival. Nagasone works better. He’s loud and honest, simple enough. Horikawa and his friends seem complicated. Mustunokami watches as they argue and laugh between the four of them, four guys squished onto two chairs taking selfies, and can’t help but smile. Leave ‘em at it. He’s not one to stick his nose in where things are going well.
“Sounds good,” he says to Nagasone. “I don’t wanna date you though, okay?”
“Uh, sure?”
Across the room, Horikawa and Izuminokami are kissing. Mutsunokami raises his glass in a toast.
“Do it right, guys,” he says to no one in particular. “I’m rootin’ for ya.”