Chapter Text
"Boy you're such a lost cause
Now your name is crossed off
How you gonna fix this?
You can't even fix yourself"
This was the 5th time in a month that Kaji Akihiko was crashing at Nakayama Haruki's place. Of course, Haruki let him - why wouldn't he when his good friend and unrequited love interest knocked on his door in the middle of the night with bruises covering his face and body? You would think that Haruki would have gotten used to seeing Akihiko all beaten up, but his heart still clenched when he saw the blueish-purplish spots and the blood surrounding them.
Akihiko looked and sounded exhausted. The instant that he stepped through the door, he flopped onto the couch. Haruki sighed, taking Akihiko’s bag from him and setting it on the dining room table. “You’re hopeless,” he muttered under his breath, a feeling of endearment spreading through him as he observed the man in front of him fall asleep. Haruki checked the time: 1:38 a.m. He had been trying to catch up on some assignments for his classes. “I should get some rest, too.”
He couldn’t help but continue to stare at Akihiko for a few more seconds before pulling out his phone and snapping a pic. He stared at the photo, smiling in satisfaction. “I’ll post this in the morning,” he murmured.
He was so distracted by the photo that he didn’t hear Akihiko get up from the couch and clumsily make his way over to Haruki. Half-asleep, Akihiko wrapped his arms around Haruki’s waist and rested his chin on Haruki’s right shoulder. Haruki’s face turned bright red, and he tried to squirm out of the taller man's embrace. “A-Akihiko,” he stammered, trying to take a step forward, “w-what are you…?”
“Warm,” Akihiko muttered, pulling Haruki backward. “Couch is too cold.”
“Then I'll get you a blanket! Geez, use your words, you idiot!” Somehow, Haruki was able to struggle out of Akihiko’s grasp. Curse your strong build, he thought. “Go back to the couch,” he ordered, pointing his finger at the zombie in front of him. Akihiko groaned but complied and landed on the couch with a loud thud.
Haruki went to his closet and pulled out a thick blanket. He walked back to the living room, where Akihiko knocked out again. “God, this guy is impossible,” Haruki huffed. He unfolded the blanket and gently laid it on top of Akihiko, tucking in the sides so that he wouldn’t get cold. Haruki stood looking at Akihiko for a few seconds again before realizing that he really should go to bed: he had a long shift tomorrow at the cafe.
Haruki shut off all of the lights in the apartment before making his way to his bedroom. He took off his hair tie, set it on his bed stand, and climbed into bed, too tired to change into his usual sleepwear of a t-shirt and shorts). With a sigh and one last thought of Akihiko on the couch, he drifted off to dreamland…
***
...is what Haruki had in mind, but instead, he landed in nightmareland. He couldn’t remember most of his nightmare, but what he did remember was his band, Given, getting into an enormous fight over something ridiculous, like someone forgetting to turn off the volume on the amp. One of Haruki’s biggest fears was an enormous conflict arising in the band like the one he dreamt of, so when he woke up the next morning, it felt like his heart was about to explode. When he realized that he was back in the real world, he sighed in relief and stared at the ceiling to calm himself down.
There was sizzling coming from the kitchen, and the scent of fried rice wafted into Haruki’s bedroom. Haruki frowned and sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Is...Akihiko cooking breakfast?” Haruki didn’t know why he was surprised that Akihiko knew how to cook.
Haruki got out of bed and checked himself in the mirror. His clothes weren’t too badly wrinkled, and his hair wasn’t in a messy tangle like usual. “Not bad,” he murmured. He grabbed his hair tie and tied his hair back into a loose low ponytail, leaving a couple of strands out to frame his face. He slapped his face gently to wake himself up more before stepping out of his room to see Akihiko half naked (from the waist up...get your mind out of the gutter >:)).
“GAH-” Haruki froze, then sighed and covered his face with both hands. “Why did you take off your shirt?” he mumbled. “It’s not even that hot.”
Akihiko shrugged and smirked. “Why not?”
Haruki shook his head. This guy lacks common sense, he thought. He tried to not stare at Akihiko’s abs as he made his way over to him and glanced inside the pan. “You didn’t tell me that you were going to make breakfast. I could’ve helped.”
Akihiko shrugged again. “It’s nothing,” he replied nonchalantly. “I woke up about half an hour ago and scrolled through my phone before I got hungry. You have work in a few hours, don’t you?”
Haruki raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, how did you know?” He never really spoke about his job, much less his shifts.
Akihiko cocked his head to one side. “I remember you mentioning it to me and the high schoolers yesterday during practice. Unless I’m wrong?”
Haruki's mouth formed an “O”, and he felt his face turn red. He didn’t remember mentioning it to the guys, and if HE didn’t remember, he doubted that Ritsuka or Mafuyu would, so he felt touched that Akihiko did. Before he could linger on the thought, he slapped his face with both hands, which earned him a curious look from Akihiko.
“I’ll get us bowls.” Haruki opened one of his cabinets and pulled out two ceramic bowls. “Should I help with anything else?”
Akihiko shook his head. Just as Haruki was about to walk away, Akihiko took a couple of steps toward him and held the untied strands of Haruki’s hair on one side of Haruki’s face between his thumb and forefinger. “Your hair is getting longer,” he remarked.
“Wha-” Haruki hated how warm his face felt and hated even more at how red it probably was, judging by Akihiko’s smirk. Haruki shook his head and put the bowls down next to the stove. “I’ll grab chopsticks, too. Just-Just let me know when you’re ready.”
“‘Mm.” Akihiko turned back to the pan. The smell of fried rice filled the entire apartment. With a bit more stirring and seasoning, Akihiko turned the stove off and scraped the fried rice into each of the bowls, intentionally piling one of the bowls with more rice than the other. “Haruki, can I leave the frying pan on the stove?”
“Hm?” Haruki looked up from his phone. “Yeah, I’ll do the dishes when I get back.”
Akihiko grabbed the bowls and walked over to the table, placing the bowl with the bigger pile of fried rice in front of Haruki. Akihiko pulled out his phone and saw notifications from Twitter. He opened them and saw that they were comments on the band’s new post, which was...a photo of him knocked out on the couch.
Akihiko looked at Haruki with a raised eyebrow. “Really?”
Haruki smirked. He grabbed his chopsticks and shoveled some rice into his mouth. “Good publicity, don’t you think?”
“Hm…” Akihiko stared at Haruki for a few seconds before shoveling some rice into his mouth as well. “I’ll post a pic of you as payback.”
“Hah, there’s nothing to post about,” Haruki bragged, chewing on his rice.
“I’ll think of something,” Akihiko responded. There was thoughtful expression on his face.
“What, are you doing to post a picture of me shirtless or something?” Haruki challenged. The idea of him being shirtless was as ridiculous to him as Rituska being honest about his feelings. He took another bite of his rice and turned back to his phone.
“Hm...not a bad idea. I'll undress you, then.”
Haruki choked. Akihiko stood up to get him a glass of water. When he returned, Haruki’s face was buried in his hands.
“I should just shut up,” Haruki mumbled miserably. “I can never win.”
Akihiko grinned widely and placed the water in front of him. “Eat up,” he replied. “Long shift ahead.”