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The tattoo. The damn tattoo. If you could blame anything as to why Ichiro was so distracted lately it would definitely be that damn drawing on his partner's back. Well, saying "partners" would make it sound like they're together, wich they're not. At least not yet. Ok, scratch that, Ichiro doesn't think it's even a possibility... right? Anyways, the tattoo.
Yes. That infuriatingly beautiful drawing perfectly adorning an already perfect back, slim but strong and confident, distracting him everytime Shiro gets out of the shower (because he has a habit of going around the house naked), changes in front of him or stretches on his yoga mat. Ichiro's almost certain he's doing it on purpose. That, or he's the most dense bastard on Earth. Actually, Ichiro might be the densest one, because he still doesn't know why it's riling him up this much.
Chika. Chika-chan this, Chika-chan that. Don't get him wrong, Shiro adores this girl and thinks she's extremely sweet (almost as sweet as the cakes she makes), but he's just tired of hearing her name all the time. Especially if it's coming from that guy. Ok, maybe saying he mentions her all the time is an exaggeration, but he still does it pretty often. Right? Ugh, fine, maybe twice a week, or a little more, usually when Ichiro comes back home with the sweets he ordered. He knows it's petty, but somehow the name of the woman coming out of Ichiro's mouth makes him unrationally annoyed. Shiro's not stupid, he knows what it means, he just chooses to ignore it and pretends he doesn't have a massive fucking crush on this guy. His partner. Because that's it, they're supposed to be investigation partners, maybe friends at most, but nothing else. While sometimes he thinks they might have something going on, a spark, so to say, he quickly shuts down the idea because Ichiro is just like that. Kind, considerate, caring. It's not special. He can't just throw away all the trust stored in their relationship like that. He knows Ichiro needs someone to be by his side, to support him. And if Ichiro rejects him, he doesn't know how their relationship will change. He needs him. He doesn't want silence, he doesn't want awkwardness, he doesn't want distance. So he shuts up, sucks it up, and pretends that Chika's name followed by compliments coming out of Ichiro's mouth doesn't make his insides boil in jealousy.
It's late at night when Ichiro comes home from the interview with Nonomura, Shiro and Rion's former orphanage teacher. As always, Shiro got tired of waiting and accidentally fell asleep on the couch, making the policeman chuckle. He crouched in front of him and watched silently before taking out a hand and gently starting to pet his hair. "You must be so tired, and yet you're still waiting for me at this hour? i don't know if that's sweet or stupid".
Shiro moved slightly at the contact and opened his eyes.
"Ichiro...?"
"Hmm. You fell asleep on the couch again. Next time just go to bed."
"... No, I wanted to see you before sleeping. I want to talk to you about something" he said while sitting up straight.
"...Oh? All right, tell me then" he answered and proceeded to sit next to Shiro. The other man shuffled closer, looking intently at his hands and playing with his fingers, as if he was having trouble with what he was about to say.
Taking a deep breath, he started talking, "You know, Ichiro... What you're doing is incredible, and very admirable, but it's also very dangerous. You don't have to go this far to save the man who protected us when we were children. I know this case is important to you, but I can also see that talking to Nonomura is hard because it reminds you of your parents' death. Even if Aneki and I think he didn't do it, he also might have actually been the one behind horrible act. Nothing is sure... I know it's a lot for you. You don't have to go through those conflicting feelings, you don't have to do this."
"..." Ichiro just looked at him, mouth agape. Shiro was still looking at the floor, a sour expression on his face.
"...Shiro... I know that... But I still choose to do it. This is important to me, like you said. It seems like he's the only way to get closer to that case, so I'm willing to do it. And I trust your judgment as well."
"Ugh, yes, but I can see how much it affects you! This isn't doing you any good, you come home every night looking even more tired than before, I can hear you turning around at night and practically digging your brains out, yesterday you even put sugar in your coffee, sugar!!!" He was practically yelling at this point, his voice clearly high and strained. He was looking at Ichiro face to face now.
"What, what's up with you so suddenly? This is my job, what do you expect!? And this case is super hard too, and for god's sake I'm also helping you two, not even a thank you? I thought you said you wanted to help me, not slow me down. And you put four spoonfuls of sugar in your tiny little expresso every morning! Don't go around crticizing me. Seriously, what's gotten into you, why do you meddle so much-"
"BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU, YOU IDIOT."
A quick silence and then Shiro gasped and rushed a hand to his mouth as if that would erase what he had just said. Fuck.
Ichiro looked at him, eyes wide, and then let out, in the tiniest voice, "...You what...?"
"I, uh. Shit. Shit. Um- Fuck it. Yeah, Ichiro, I care about you. Is it really so hard to understand?"
"No, it's just that... I didn't expect you to... I mean- you, you never show any of it- and also why?"
"Why? Seriously? Are you really that dumb? You literally cook for me every morning, fold my laundry, take care of me when I'm sick, help me out with my business, make me pancakes and put sugar in my tamagoyaki because you know I like it and expect me not to fall for you? Leaving aside the fact that you're a fucking beefcake and I feel like foaming at the mouth whenever I see you shirtless. I mean, you know what, this probably not what you want to hear, now or ever. Hah, this is so stupid, you probably do all of that because you're just that kind of a human being, you'd probably do the same with anyone-"
"Shiro-"
"–Yeah, sorry for popping your little hetero bubble, but I'm bi you know? I already told you that, you can't expect me to be unphased by all your charms, mr. oblivious. Actually you're probably head over heels for Chika already, right? A confession is definitely the last thing you want to hear coming for my mou- hmmfh". His unending blabbering suddenly got interrupted by a pair of big, strong hands. The grip was suprisingly soft, though.
"Shiro." Piercing black eyes looked at him with a glow he couldn't quite decipher. They trembled slightly. How beautiful. "Just shut up."
Before he could even mutter something in complaint, the hands on his mouth were replaced by lips, firm but soft, and this time shut him up for good. Ichiro's hands moved to cup his face as if to keep him for pulling away, as if begging to stay where he was, mouths smashed together like that. And what could Shiro do other than fucking comply? He moved one of his hands on top of Ichiro's, squeezing it gently and let the other one grab his neck and pull him closer. Ichiro seemed happy by this because he let a tiny pleased sound out and Shiro felt like he could die right there and then. The kiss was messy and sloppy but careful, as if they were both scared of the other running away at any moment. Shiro wasn't sure what this all meant, but if Ichiro really was going at this then it was certainly not bad. He could ask questions later. Right now he was too distracted by his partner's tongue trying to get in his mouth and his hands moving all over his body, touching and gripping everything he could. Shiro moved the hands on his neck down to his back then grabbed Ichiro's hips. He never thought he would one day be allowed to do that. The contact felt heavenly, the skin under the shirt was firm and he could feel the warmth in his fingertips, exploring those perfectly defined muscles and soft spots. Now Ichiro's arms seemed to have found a place around his neck, pulling them even closer than they were before, and seemingly not enough because suddenly he was also moving and shuffling to sit comfortably on Shiro's lap, wich made him incredibly aroused but also short circuit the second he realized what was going on.
"Hold on!" He abruptly put his hands in between their torsos to put a bit of distance between the two. Ichiro looked at him confused, then asked, softly, "...You don't want this?"
"No! I mean yes. I do. That's not it at all, this is really more than I could ever ask for... but... I feel like we're going so fast, and I thought you said you wanted your first time to be with someone you loved...?"
Ichiro's face visibly relaxed, and then he pulled his hands down and rested his forhead on Shiro's shoulder, breathing out a small laugh. "Oh my god... Shiro, you really are worse than me."
"Haah?? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Do I have to spell it out for you? You made a whole speech about inevitably falling for me but failed to realize it goes both ways. You literally let me stay at your place every day, buy me chocolates but only the dark ones because you know i can't stand sweetness, give me a key to your apartment, say stuff like "don't overdo it" or "take care of yourself" whenever I go out, patch me up when i'm wounded, let me be vulnerable in front of you and let yourself be vulnerable in front of me... you made this relationship a place of trust, comfort and happiness. I don't want Chika. Or any girl, or anyone else for the matter. I want you, Shiro."
Yeah, that was it. No more holding back.
"Oh god, I want to fuck you so bad."
"Then what are you waiting for, pretty boy?"
Ichiro woke up first, slowly opening his eyes and adjusting to the morning light coming from the window. Thank god it was a sunday, because the last thing he wanted to do right now was detach himself from the sleeping man next to him. He quietly studied their positions: Shiro was the little spoon, back against Ichiro's chest, an arm over his and legs entangled perfectly together. From this side of the scene, Ichiro could see Shiro's back in all its beauty. The faint sunshine made his frame glow, and he could clearly see all the beautiful details that adorned his skin. He gently traced the lines with the tip of his finger, different coloured inks forming an interesting map to discover. He was happy to have this little moment to himself, and felt even happier knowing that he could watch, touch, kiss that picture now and forever, that he was allowed now. He didn't have to steal glances, or feel awkward for wanting more, it was all given to him, it was all there. After taking it all in, he decided to press another soft kiss in between his shoulder blades, just like he did last night, and proceeded to close his eyes and sleep some more. They had all the time in the world, after all.