Chapter Text
When Kaelix had first told his chat that he’d like his first time drinking to be with the rest of By the Beat, this isn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.
Not that he minds other members of Nijisanji EN being present, of course; in fact, it’s quite the contrary. Even with this particular gathering being primarily limited to those in the branch who had moved to Japan — in addition to himself, the rest of By the Beat, and a few other non-residents — Kaelix had been ecstatic to meet everyone in person and witness all the ways through which their most endearing quirks came through outside of streaming.
(And naturally, he’d been curious to see how much of a lightweight Vanta actually is in the flesh — it’s a shame Krisis had opted out of tonight’s outing, but it can’t be helped seeing as the three had been scheduled to record something early the next morning.)
At least Zeal gets to experience his oshi during this trip in all their drunken, uninhibited glory, Kaelix thinks bitterly, and for what feels like the umpteenth time that night, his eyes wander to the corner of the izakaya that’s currently occupied by Zeal and Uki. Uki, somewhat infuriatingly, is every bit as beautiful in person as the other livers had attested time and time again. Perhaps even more so now that their characteristic reticence is seemingly fading in proportion to the alcohol they’ve consumed, gazing up at Zeal through long lashes, doe-eyed and glowing and elegant and everything Kaelix isn’t–
Some revenge trip this is turning out to be. And to think he had been so excited to actually get to experience Tokyo after having almost completely missed out the first time around.
“Are you okay, Kae-chan? You’re a lot quieter now compared to earlier. Getting sleepy?”
There’s something about the concern in Seible’s voice that leaves him feeling indignant and defensive. But it’s not Seible’s fault he’s feeling this way, so he bites back the urge to snap back and merely shakes his head. “’M fine,” he mutters, avoiding Seible and Freo’s gazes, and downs another gulp from his glass of umeshu.
“You should really slow down,” Freo cautions, sliding a glass of water toward him from across the table. “Try to take smaller sips, and drink this in between.”
Kaelix glowers at him. “I’m not a kid, you know.”
Seible smacks a hand over his mouth a little too late to hide his snicker, and Freo raises an eyebrow. “Don’t act like one, then.”
“Wait hold up, I kinda dig this bratty Kae-chan, though–”
“Of course you do. Cochino.”
“Hey now, I’m innocent! What do you mean by that, Furi-chan?”
Under normal circumstances, Kaelix would have giggled as the two bantered and even encouraged it. But as of now, he can only think about the two people sitting at the bar on the opposite side of the room, away from the rest of the noise and invested in a seemingly engaging conversation.
“My first time was supposed to be just the four of us,” Kaelix says miserably, eyes fixed downward on the drink in his hands, staring at nothing. “So why are you two the only ones here to spend it with me?”
Seible clears his throat, biting back a chuckle as Freo side-eyes him, immediately skeptical of whatever he’s about to say. “Well for one, I’m not sure why you had to word it like that. But jokes aside–”
“You’re sick,” Kaelix groans, interrupting him.
“As I was saying, jokes aside–” Seible continues, undeterred, “You can complain that not all of By the Beat is here to dote on you in your time of need, but Furi-chan and I both know you’re most upset because it’s Gin-chan who isn’t here with you.”
Had Kaelix not been intoxicated in this moment, would the silence that follows those words still linger? Would he have been rendered speechless by Seible’s audacity in uttering the secret he’d been so determined never to speak into existence? Had he been sober, would he have vehemently denied everything while praying to no god in particular that no one would dare bring it up again?
“How long have you known…?” Kaelix finds himself asking, feeling as if his heart has dropped somewhere in the pit of his stomach. “No, scratch that, how exactly did you know?”
Seible and Freo exchange mildly apprehensive-looking glances, relaying some mutual understanding that Kaelix can’t grasp.
“Not long. We weren’t completely sure, if it makes you feel better,” Freo explains after a brief hesitation. “At first, we just figured it was because you’re affectionate with everybody, and then we thought it was because you and Zeal are particularly close… but after a while, we started running out of excuses.”
Kaelix cups his face in his hands in a vain attempt to hide himself, and part of him feels like he could cry.
“It’s too sly of you guys to wait until I’m drunk to confront me about it,” he grumbles — not the kind of response he’d give just anyone, but his wavemates know him well enough by now to recognize that it’s just a hyperbole; he’s exaggerating in true Kaelix fashion as opposed to being truly accusatory. It means the world to him to have debuted alongside a group that offers him so much patience and goodwill.
“Well, that part’s on Seible,” Freo points out, waving a hand dismissively.
Next to him, Seible grins apologetically. “I mean, someone’s got to move things along sooner or later, y’know? Besides, I don’t like seeing my friends so sad.” He glances pointedly in Zeal and Uki’s direction. “Gin-chan’s always pretty astute when it comes to other people… he’s emotionally intelligent, right? I think that’s the phrase. But since this involves him, I don’t think he knows. Maybe you could do something about that?”
In all honesty, Seible’s words are increasingly blurring together by the second. Even as his brain feels like it’s turning to mush, though, one thing is abundantly clear — he wants– no, he needs Zeal Ginjoka. With all of his being, or at least the parts of himself that have the capacity to want.
And like a slow-motion action sequence in a movie, that’s when it happens: he catches sight of Zeal touching Uki’s waist as they rise out of their chair.
Even in the midst of his drunken haze, Kaelix knows full well that it doesn’t truly mean anything. Zeal, the gentleman that he is, is just accommodating his senpai by making sure they don’t stumble on the way to the restroom or wherever it is that they’re heading. Yet despite everything, Kaelix can’t repress the overwhelming urge to set the record unmistakably straight that Zeal Ginjoka is taken.
Between another sip of umeshu and vague perceptions of Freo and Seible’s insistence that he remain in his seat, he finds himself across the room and unapologetically maneuvering past a stunned Uki.
“Focus on me instead,” he demands, climbing into the older man’s lap as if there’s nobody else in the room and shutting up all and any means of verbal protest with the deepest kiss he can muster.
The bitter taste that lingers from Zeal’s whiskey sour doesn’t pair well with the sweet plum flavor of Kaelix’s own drink, but at present Kaelix is worlds away from caring. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had been mentally prepared for Zeal to immediately pull back. To shut him down, to reject him outright. Maybe then, he might find it within himself to put these god forsaken feelings to rest, to play everything off as a drunken mistake that they would laugh off and forget about the following morning.
Yet for better or for worse, Zeal — who always, without fail, manages to meet him in the middle — reciprocates.
Not immediately, of course. Having initially been caught off guard, Zeal’s body tenses against the explosive fervor of Kaelix’s kiss. For several moments, he does absolutely nothing.
And then before the seeds of doubt invariably creep up from the well that is Kaelix’s insecurity, one of Zeal’s hands finds the small of his back; the other hikes up his thigh, stabilizing him so he’s even more firmly seated in Zeal’s lap. And then he’s kissing Kaelix back with just as much passion as Kaelix had brought into it, maybe more.
For a while, nothing exists at all other than Zeal’s arms and the resolute tenderness of his kiss and the peppermint-based top note of his cologne. Maybe that’s why it feels like the most natural thing in the universe to cling to Zeal, arms strung across either one of his broad shoulders, carding his fingers through the wispy dark green ends of Zeal’s hair — to sigh contentedly and unabashedly against Zeal’s parted lips and surrender his sense of self.
Finally, Zeal pulls back from the embrace and taps a finger on Kaelix’s kiss-swollen lips as if to preemptively mute whatever protests are bound to follow. “Kaelix, my darling bouncer — I’m flattered by your enthusiasm, I really am. But are you positive you want to… exhibit your affection so intimately in front of this big a crowd?”
The abrupt withdrawal of the lips he’d so thoroughly claimed moments before elicits a tiny, disappointed whimper from Kaelix. A sliver of tongue peeks out to dot the pad of Zeal’s fingertip as he gazes pleadingly through the fringe of his lashes: a clear invitation.
“Kaelix?” Despite the inflection being that of a question, Zeal’s eyes are narrowed, expectant, communicating an unspoken warning to use his better judgement and to behave.
What better judgement, though? Kaelix thinks, indignant. Is he not sufficiently drunk off his ass enough to demonstrate the inefficacy of trying to appeal to his so-called “better judgement?”
Then again, he can’t really shake the feeling that maybe Zeal has a point.
“Ah. It seems that once again, I’m surrounded by perverts,” Kaelix complains a bit too loudly, his voice slurring on the last word. He glares over his shoulder at the onlookers, hoping it helps to drive home the point (the point of which being, something even he isn’t entirely sure about). In all honesty, it’s a little scary the way he doesn’t recognize any of their faces through the haze in his vision — who had he come here with, again? By the Beat and Uki and… who else among the Nijisanji livers? He can’t recall, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how safe it feels, here in Zeal’s arms.
“Yes, well, we are in a public place,” Zeal reminds him, not missing a beat. He plucks the glasses off the bridge of Kaelix’s nose, using the edge of his sleeve to clear away the smudges that had probably manifested from all the kissing they’d done earlier. “We should probably think about getting you home so you can at least pass out in the comfort of a warm bed.”
“Please,” Freo interjects, his voice catching Kaelix off guard because when exactly had he approached them on this side of the room? “I don’t care what you guys do, just do it somewhere else and not in front of me.”
“I know, I know,” says Zeal quickly, turning his face away much to Kaelix’s chagrin. “Sorry. I was so surprised, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Whoa, Gin-chan! Isn’t your face a bit red?” Seible chimes in, walking up next to Freo. “Will you really be okay to take care of Kae-chan all by yourself? Seeing as you’ve been drinking a bit yourself and all…”
Up to this point Kaelix had been relatively zoned out, yet the sliver of mischief in Seible’s voice is palpable enough even for him to catch onto. Scowling at the other two, he makes a point to clutch onto Zeal tighter. “No! I’m not leaving unless it’s with Jii-san.”
“Thanks, Seible, but I’m feeling just fine.” Presumably in an effort to demonstrate his still-intact motor skills, Zeal pulls Kaelix to his feet while pushing aside a couple stray chairs in order to clear the path in front of them. “See? It’ll be all right. There’s a few things I’ve been meaning to talk with Kaelix about anyway, so this is a good opportunity.”
“Oooh, I see, I see. Just be sure to text me or Furi-chan once you get back, okay?” Seible calls after them as they make their way toward the door, to which Zeal responds with a nod and a thumbs-up.
“Easy there, bud, watch your step on the way out.” One of Zeal’s hands rests on Kaelix’s waist to provide support, gently guiding.
In spite of the fog that thwarts his cognizance, Kaelix’s heart flutters in his chest.
“Carry me home…?” he suggests hopefully.
Zeal shakes his head. “Nice try, but luckily for us both, the taxi Seible called is almost here.”
Kaelix pouts.
“Have pity on this old man’s bones, my beloved bouncer. As it is, I’ll somehow have to haul you into the elevator and up to your room once we arrive.”
“Haul?! But I’m not even heavy!” Kaelix insists, suddenly overcome with the inexplicable urge to bicker. “And it’s not like we have that big of a height difference — or is this just your way of being petty?”
Zeal, frustratingly, doesn’t take the bait and instead shifts his attention to confirming their destination with the taxi driver. In retaliation, Kaelix manages to go the entire trip ignoring Zeal. Or almost the entire trip, rather. (Not really.)
“Thought it was my job to have a stick up my ass, not yours,” he grumbles approximately ten minutes in, unable to quash the instinct to yap even a moment longer.
Zeal doesn’t bat an eye. “I mean, if you want it to be.”
“Pervert,” Kaelix mutters, wincing a little when the clapback comes out sounding more defeated as opposed to scathing. Still, he gravitates toward the warmth emanating from Zeal’s skin like a sunflower cropping up to face the sun, leaning over to rest his forehead against one of his wavemate’s broad shoulders. “Just let me rest my eyes for a second, mmkay? I’m soooo sleepy.”
Zeal lets him stay there, snoozing softly, watching kaleidoscopic streetlights from the world outside cast an array of colors over the smooth planes of the bouncer’s face. He doesn’t touch him, not even a little. He doesn’t dare wish for anything else.
What exactly happens in the span of time between then and stumbling back to the hotel is beyond Kaelix, but what matters is that they’ve managed to get back safe and sound.
Unsurprisingly, it seems Zeal had been downplaying his strength all along. Not that Kaelix has a clear memory of it, although he does vaguely recall stepping out of the taxi and onto Zeal’s back and being placed down onto the couch of his hotel suite, seemingly with relative ease. Then again, perhaps Zeal just isn’t prone to complaining, but the unwillingness he had expressed prior suggests otherwise.
Whatever the case, Kaelix has every intention of using this situation as justification for getting Zeal to carry him everywhere from now on.
Bleary vision greets dimmed tungsten lights as he regains consciousness, his world slowly shifting back into focus. He pulls himself up on his elbows and scans the hotel suite, which is unmistakably empty.
He feels substantially more lucid now compared to before. Fortunately, the alcohol seems to have cycled through his system pretty rapidly. Another benefit of having been blessed with a fast metabolism, he supposes.
Before he has the chance to wonder about it, he hears the door open followed by shuffling noises and what he assumes is the sound of someone taking off their jacket. Seconds later, Zeal emerges from the other room, holding a plastic bag of items from the convenience store. “Oh, you’re up. How are you feeling now?”
“Mm… Not bad, I don’t think?” Kaelix muses, scrubbing one eye with the back of his hand. “This couch is kinda short for me, though, so my legs are cramping up a bit.” He demonstrates by pointing to the way his feet brush up against the armrest when he tries to lay down flat.
Zeal looks apologetic. “Couldn’t find the room key in your wallet, and I didn’t want to rummage through your pockets and risk waking you. In hindsight, maybe I should’ve.”
“Ah, no big deal. It’ll probably go away once I get up and stretch.”
A few awkward moments pass with neither of them saying anything. Typically, Kaelix is the first to break the silence in times like this, on the incredibly rare occasions it happens between Zeal and himself — but maybe he really is out of it still, because for once he can’t think of a single thing to say.
Zeal, who unlike Kaelix doesn’t usually go out of his way to avoid these sort of quiet lapses, takes the initiative to speak. “Um, I got some extra water bottles and ginger tea and some random snacks. Any of that sound appetizing to you?”
“Tea would be amazing, thank you.” Kaelix smiles and Zeal heads to the other side of the room to switch on the electric kettle.
A few minutes later, Kaelix has a freshly-steeped mug of his favorite beverage cupped in his hands, warming his core from the inside. Zeal is sitting on the other side of the couch, gaze fixed ahead at nothing in particular, intermittently sipping a cup of decaf coffee.
The elephant in the room deters any further exchange between the two that might have taken place, manifesting as uncomfortable silence.
“You’re so nice to me,” Kaelix says at last, “even after all the trouble I’ve caused you.”
“It’s nothing, really, considering you’re a very dear friend.”
Friend. Even if Zeal is downplaying his affections the way Kaelix suspects and hopes he is, the word stings nonetheless.
”I know, but I do hope I didn’t embarrass you too badly. Even without remembering all the details, I still lowkey want to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe highkey, even. The more I think about it… God, what the fuck was I thinking?“
“I mean you weren’t, so don’t beat yourself up over it. Shit happens, especially when alcohol is involved.” Zeal downs another swig of coffee. “My point is, it’s not going to change anything between us.”
It’s a pretty uncommon occurrence for Zeal to swear even off stream, and the fact that it’s coming out now in response to Kaelix’s own slip as an unspoken extension of solidarity — he couldn’t explain it if he tried, but there’s something about these subtle displays of kindness that makes Kaelix’s heart surge with affection.
Kaelix swallows back the unexpected wave of emotions and does his best not let it show on his face, setting his now-empty tea mug down on the coffee table in front of them without a reply.
”Honestly, the whole thing makes for a funny story if you feel comfortable telling it on stream or even just behind membership. Maririn got a bunch of people’s reactions on video, and some of them are pretty hilarious. Luca-senpai, for example– Actually, you know what? Never mind. I’ll show you once you’re feeling up to it.“
“Say, what if I wanted things to change between us?” Kaelix blurts out. “What would you do then?“
There must be something in those words that exacerbates the tension that permeates the air. If the silence that had preceded was uncomfortable, this is worse by far — it’s harrowing.
“Depends on the kind of change you’re referring to, though I assume you meant a positive one,” Zeal answers. His tone is flat. Unreadable.
“I did, yeah. Of course I did. So, think about it: you’re already one of my best friends. How else do you level up from there?”
Until now, Zeal hadn’t really been avoiding Kaelix’s gaze, but it’s hard not to notice the way his eyes are suddenly fixed on his coffee mug as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. Long fingers tap rhythmically over the handle as he presumably contemplates his response.
“I think you’re still drunk, honestly. Now’s not a good time for this conversation. Let’s get you to your room, and–”
“I feel pretty clear-headed right now, at least enough to be honest,” Kaelix argues. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. If you don’t wanna answer that question — fine, whatever. That checks out with the way you’ve been holding back on me all night.”
Without warning, Zeal slams his mug down onto the table with so much force, it makes Kaelix flinch.
“Kaelix,” he warns, “I fear you don’t understand how quickly other men would… misinterpret what you mean by that.”
“Well, I don’t care what kind of interpretation other men would have. I just care about one man’s, yours.”
“You realize you’re effectively telling me not to hold back.”
“And what if I am, Ginjoka? What then?” Kaelix asks, the ghost of a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Before Zeal has a chance to call him out on his scheme, though, he’s abruptly and unceremoniously pulled down onto the sofa on top of Kaelix — landing square on his chest with a muted thud.
“Caught ya,” Kaelix gloats, practically tripping over his words as he erupts into a fresh bout of giggles. His thighs part, long legs wrapping around Zeal’s core like an embrace, straddling him from underneath.
Zeal just stares down at him, frozen in disbelief.
“I don’t get what you’re so afraid of, but I’m telling you it’s okay. Go ahead. Touch me.” Kaelix gazes up with a kind of forwardness even he himself hadn’t realized he was capable of, fingers skimming over the expanse of Zeal’s chest and hooking at the collar of his shirt. Eyes bright with lust, cheeks adorned with a pretty flush, Kaelix’s breath hitches oh-so-slightly as he deliberately rolls his hips against Zeal’s lower half–
And with that, at the end of his rope, Zeal snaps.
“We– no, I can’t do this,” he rasps. Despite whatever might have remained of his formerly inebriated state, Kaelix’s trained vocalist’s ear picks up on the tightness in Zeal’s throat, the dryness in his mouth, the shallowness of his breathing — a perfect storm of conditions that altogether inhibit Zeal’s voice, its characteristic resonance. Hours of precariously upheld self-restraint bleed into his words now, sizzling behind an illusive veneer of composure, finally on the verge of boiling over.
The hand Kaelix hadn’t realized he’d reached out with is pushed away. Zeal removes himself from the tangle of Kaelix’s limbs and sinks to the ground in front of the other end of the sofa, creating distance as if it could protect him — head bowed, the view of his eyes obstructed by a curtain of dark hair.
“All I wanted was to offer my lap as a pillow as you drifted off into sleep,” he continues, voice thick, weighed down by long-carried burdens of weary heartbreak and untold secrets. “To fetch you water bottles and hot tea as you get through tomorrow’s hangover, or whatever else you’d need, even if you were too shy to ask, sometimes when you didn’t fully know yourself — I was content, no, thrilled with that alone. But now, now that the opportunity is there, I can’t. I can’t move forward while knowing what the possibility of something more looks like and knowing that it can’t ever be mine.”
He fumbles through his pockets before pulling out his phone, hands trembling to the extent that he nearly drops it in the process. “You’re in much too vulnerable a state right now. Hell, I don’t even feel like I can trust myself anymore, so… so let me call Freo or Seible or somebody else you can actually feel safe around. Let’s call them right now, in fact, the sooner the better, and, and–”
“Zeal, Zeal,” Kaelix interrupts, “I need you to listen to me. Okay?”
And when Zeal abruptly freezes and shakes his head and doesn’t utter a word in reply, bracing himself for what must seem like inevitable rejection — that’s when Kaelix promptly launches himself toward the opposite cushion, wrapping his arms around his dearest friend, clinging to him from behind.
“You are so unfathomably ridiculous, Ginjoka,” he whispers fiercely, resisting the near insurmountable urge to cry. “You ridiculous, deplorable, unbelievable man. To think you could be so deliberate, so selfless in everything that you do, and yet so quick to run with your own twisted assumptions about how I feel. What made you think you had the right?
“Listen. I may be young and inexperienced, but I’m not naïve. When I went out of my way to kiss you of all people, when I insisted you be the person to take me home, those weren’t coincidences. I’ve wanted this for God knows how long, I would’ve told you, I wanted to tell you, but I never could. The alcohol was just an opportunity, an excuse to brush things off because I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. I don’t know if that’s too scheming or if it’ll affect how you see me — I guess I was just hoping I’d lose enough inhibition to confess, but then seeing you with Uki who is so beautiful– I don’t know. Something overtook me.”
A long pause ensues. Kaelix doesn’t attempt to coax out an answer. He merely holds Zeal tighter and closer, waiting for him to collect himself.
“For one,” Zeal says quietly, at last, “perhaps it’s my turn to call you ridiculous. Uki is beautiful, yes… but that doesn’t mean I’m any less in love with you.”
Kaelix’s first thought is that it doesn’t seem real. More than anything, he needs those words to be tangible. Something he can reach toward and grasp. Something definitive, that holds the intrinsic promise of not letting go.
“Say that again for me,” he says, treading cautiously, as if the admission itself could shatter. “Look me in the eyes and tell me one more time.”
It doesn’t matter if Zeal had intended to refuse that demand, Kaelix wouldn’t have let him. He whirls the older man around by the shoulders without offering him a chance to resist — or perhaps it’s a joint effort, with Zeal jerking backwards to face him as well. Everything happens far too quickly for either of them to know for certain.
As Kaelix reaches forward to push the hair away from Zeal’s eyes, his fingertips graze damp lashes. It shouldn’t come as a surprise; he’d already had an inkling, but even so, his heart skips a beat.
“I love you,” Zeal confesses again, a whisper away from breaking. “So, so much. In ways I can’t express with words, to the point that I didn’t dare wish for it. Maybe I’m stupid, but I need you to spell it out for me — to confirm it all over again, just so I can be sure.”
That’s all it takes to open the floodgates behind Kaelix’s eyes.
“Keeping everything bottled in all while saying nothing, hurting for all this time…” He trails off, helpless to prevent the tears from spilling over, fighting tooth and nail to remain coherent at the very least. “You’re not stupid, stupid — you’re just kind. Unassuming. Of course I’m in love with you, the man that you are. I’ve wanted you for so, so long. How could I not, when–”
Zeal pulls him in closer, abruptly shutting him up with a kiss.
“My bad,” he murmurs against Kaelix’s lips, withdrawing just enough as not to render himself unintelligible. “I didn’t mean to cut you off there, darling. Indulge me one more time.”
“Love you,” Kaelix repeats without hesitation, voice cracking on the words.
Another kiss. Deeper this time, with Zeal’s tongue slipping between the threshold of his lips with practiced ease and a certain unspoken confidence that Kaelix can’t help but be smitten by — and when Zeal pulls back again, Kaelix has to bite back a whine in response to the loss.
“One more time,” Zeal whispers fondly. “Say you love me.”
Kaelix scowls at the Zeal-shaped blur he can just about barely discern in front of him. “Ginjoka…”
“Ah, sorry. Didn’t realize I’d hit the limit.” Zeal’s mouth curls into a devilish smirk (or rather, that’s what Kaelix imagines given the fact that he can barely see and the smug tone of Zeal’s voice). “That is, I didn’t realize your love had conditions.”
“You really can’t afford to be nice to me in the middle of professing your love for me? I think you actually do hate me. Unironically.”
“S’pose I just can’t get enough,” Zeal says with a chuckle, bringing a hand up to the level of Kaelix’s eyes and using his thumb to brush away a few stray tears. “Think I need to hear you say it a hundred thousand more times before I can fully convince myself that I’m not actually dreaming.”
Kaelix sighs mock-disapprovingly, but his expression softens visibly. “Fine,” he relents. “You can hear it as often as you like, without having to ask, for the rest of the foreseeable future. Just... promise me something, okay?”
“Anything. Just say the word.”
“Then make it up to me. Kiss me again, this time with the promise of making love to me into the early hours of the morning.” Kaelix’s hand finds the hem of Zeal’s shirt and he tugs playfully at the fabric: a seemingly absentminded yet altogether calculated effort to tempt him. “Or is that not clear enough for you?”