Chapter Text
“God, it’s fucking freezing out here.” Tachihara glared at the cluster of buildings across the street, as if Yokohama’s skyscrapers were to blame for the temperature.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t wearing a cropped jacket you’d be alright.” In contrast to Tachihara’s suffering, Junichiro Tanizaki seemed alright despite the cold, sitting on the bus stop’s bench as casually as if it were the middle of summer. The only sign of the bad weather was his sweatshirt, which he’d put on properly instead of just leaving it tied around his waist. The only other sign was his reddened face, but if that was a ground for judgement, Tachihara definitely couldn’t be the one to bring it up. At any rate, at least he wasn’t so cold that his ability to make snide remarks towards the Port Mafia member was hindered.
“It’s a fashion statement, asshole.”
“Not a very good one.”
“If we weren't on a joint mission right now, I’d kick your ass.”
When Tanizaki glanced over, his expression was almost proud. “Too bad that we are on one, then. And anyway, that didn’t go so well for you last time, did it?” Before Tachihara could respond he had already turned back to the buildings they were supposed to be doing surveillance on. Tachihara huffed but followed his lead, watching the entrance to the office building (as if anything would happen- it’d been an hour already and he was starting to think that their respective bosses got off somewhere on sending them on wild goose chases.)
The silence returned, and continued for a few minutes. It would’ve been relatively peaceful, if not for the snowflakes starting to spiral down to the pair. Tachihara’s teeth started to chatter- he wouldn't ever admit it, but he was starting to think that his temporary partner was right about the jacket. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, watching his breath turn to fog in the air.
“Are you really that cold?” Out of the corner of his eye, Tachihara could see Tanizaki staring at him, but he didn’t turn to face him.
“It’s like 30 degrees outside, of course I’m cold.”
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t realize you were that serious. I kinda thought you were just talking to pass the time.” He sounded sheepish, like he was embarrassed for the misinterpretation.
“So you thought I was complaining just because I was bored?” He asked skeptically.
“Yeah. Seemed like your style.”
Tachihara rolled his eyes, too cold to put effort into being properly offended. “Whatever. We’ll probably be able to get inside somewhere soon, anyway.” He wasn’t sure if that was true, but it was a nice thought anyway.
Tanizaki still looked unsatisfied, despite having taunted him just a few minutes earlier, but he didn’t press the matter. They went back to not speaking, Tachihara ignoring it when Tanizaki glanced over at him every few minutes. There was still no activity across the streets; it seemed that even their organizations’ mutual enemies knew better than to be outside in this weather. After a few minutes, the ADA member looked like he was about to burst with unspoken words.
“What is it? Why do you keep staring at me?” He didn’t frantically defend himself or turn away like Tachihara would’ve expected. In fact, he did quite the opposite, sliding across the bench until their sides were almost pressed together, casual as ever.
“What the hell?” He wasn’t graced with a response, instead watching as Tanizaki held out his hands, palms up.
“Give me your hands.”
“What?”
“I said, give me your hands!” Without an ounce of embarrassment or hesitation he yanked Tachihara’s hands away, ignoring a half-assed attempt at protesting. Tanizaki held onto his hands like a little kid playing one of those hand-slapping games before sort of tugging them into his sleeves.
Tachihara had given up on protesting what was happening, but he asked anyway- “What are you doing?”
As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, Tanizaki replied, “I always did it when Naomi and I were kids when it was cold like this.”
“Naomi?”
“My little sister.” He had started to absentmindedly (or not?) rub his thumbs over Tachihara’s cold hands, and he wondered if he’d done that for Naomi too, or if it was a unique, Tachihara-only experience. For reasons he didn’t really understand or want to, he found himself hoping it was the latter.
“Right, the one with black hair always hanging onto you?” Tanizaki nodded with a small smile, continuing his attempt at making the cold more bearable.
Realistically, the hand-holding shouldn’t have done much to help with the cold, but Tachihara felt as though the boy opposite him had somehow warmed every inch of his frozen skin.
“I’ll buy you a hot chocolate when we get out of here, alright? There’s a cafe under the agency.”
“Who says I like hot chocolate?” He did, to an embarrassing extent, but Tachihara was an argumentative person at heart, and one pretty boy holding his hands like it was as natural as a sunrise wasn’t going to change that.
“Who says you don’t?”
“Would they actually let a mafia member in a cafe under a detective agency?”
“Sure, as long as you’re with me.”
Suddenly, the cold didn’t seem so bad anymore. Tachihara still didn’t pull his hands away.
(In the end, there was no real reason for watching the buildings across the street, but neither of them seemed to mind all that much)