Chapter Text
Kitagawa Yusuke is momentarily blinded by the beauty he finds when he looks outside the window of sensei’s car in gridlock traffic. It’s two boys flanking a single girl, but it’s more accurate to see them as one, a delicate beauty just one missing piece away from shattering to pieces.
They drift away in the crowd towards the station. His lips ask for permission to leave the car, but his legs and arms are already working, taking him down the steps of the station after them. His body aches at the run, but it’s all worth it, for he enters the same train as them. It’s a hopeless effort, but he peeks his head above the crowd, but that same flash does not come.
The doors open, and his legs are manic again (albeit running on one dry ramen package now). Just one glance could satiate him, but the crowd rallies against him, and the two heads of blond disappear for good. Yusuke briefly resigns himself to people watching before he remembers that sensei is waiting for him back at the car with a shout (and quite possibly a hand) ready to go. His heart wretches and his back droops and he marches up the escalator. Yusuke’s muse has slipped away yet again.
Except, it hasn’t. They’re waiting for him just outside the station. The girl is staring at him and the two boys slide into place in front of her. Their lips are moving, cars are blaring past, but he cannot hear. He’s not sure whether he sees a painting or a lifeline.
In the silence, he hears a diseased car approach, gasping for air as it comes to a halt. It’s sensei’s. His lips move too. Yusuke tears his eyes off of them to look at sensei and see the tendrils that emerged from his mouth and eyes. The cacophonous laughter brings him back to the real world. The whispers and the stares. The smell of rubber and smog. The tag on his shirt clinging to his skin. Right. He has a job to do.
How he became one of them he will never understand.
How Ryuji treated him like he had known him for a decade he will never understand.
It was a fairytale, the trapped rendered his own savior in front of his apparent knights in shining armor.
And yet, there he was, fox mask and katana sending the poacher running for his life.
Any poetry vanishes when Fox collapses to the floor. His head is burning hot again, and the voices are swirling and swirling and his arms are barely even there to keep him from smacking into the floor–
And in one majestic sweep, Ryuji takes him clean off the floor and into his arms. For a moment, the world is perfectly clear. Of course Ryuji would do that. He would do it for anyone.
Then they’re moving again, but the only things Yusuke can focus on are the calloused hands and the soft touch.
Crazy blonde bitch
there is no way you are straight
Ryuji
is this about yusuke
Crazy blonde bitch
no its about ren /s
no straight man bridal carries people like that
Ryuji
do you want me to bridal carry you to prove im straight
also straight people do shit like that all the time as a joke
Crazy blonde bitch
thats not how that works
also what straight guy looks at their friend like that
Ryuji
me
Crazy blonde bitch
…
Ryuji was the worst model in Tokyo (and, quite possibly, all of Japan). Fidgety, and prone to distracting Yusuke with his wails of how boring being a model was. And, of course, who could find the boy who bleached his hair at thirteen beautiful?
At least, that's what sensei would've said.
Every time Ryuji bemoaned the work of sitting still, Yusuke found his motivation doubled. Everytime Ryuji scratched his head, Yusuke found a new way to more properly infuse the canvas with Ryuji's energy.
Alas, Yusuke could only paint for so long before he had to utter the words “I think I am quite finished.” Ryuji stood up to admire the painting alongside Yusuke, with his signature half-hug.
Yusuke admired the portrait, too, before turning back to Ryuji.
Five centimeters away, probably less. Nothing but stars in his eyes, staring at the painting.
Then Ryuji turned to him.
Faces just at the right level to meet.
Five seconds. Why didn't he paint him from this distance?
Ten seconds. Were Ryuji's cheeks pale or red?
Twenty. Ryuji swiftly retreated, turning a full one eighty. “You blinked, dude.”
“I was not aware of any such staring contest?”
“Uhhh, well, if you tell people about the staring contest then it doesn't work!”
“Did you…have to be so close?”
Ryuji
fuck
the thing you said
about going both ways
Crazy blonde bitch (affectionate)
ok who is it
are you finally going to confess to Ren
please i have to be there for the tea sis
Ryuji
just a guy
how do you figure it out
Crazy blonde bitch (affectionate)
ok you have a crush on a guy
and you talk about wanting a hot girlfriend nonstop
Ryuji
but what if its not a crush
Crazy blonde bitch (affectionate)
just
wait
yeah i cant do that either
Ryuji
wait i got it
He had sunken to his lowest point. He could not paint Ryuji.
Well, it was more accurate to say that he could not paint Ryuji as he was .
Some distortion took up residence in his mind, and the sketches of Ryuji he concocted in his absence were utterly fantastical and nothing like the simple-minded boy that had punched through half of his problems in life.
So. Simple solution. Have Ryuji. In front of you. Again. While painting. Just. Keep. Looking. And no distortions! Quite simple.
“Hey, uhhh, Yusuke. Wanna…go on a run?”
Ryuji seemed to put more thought into the request than anything in his life. He scratched his hair thrice and turned his gaze away from Yusuke quadrice before he sputtered out “I mean, it would be good practice for the Phantom Thief stuff…”
Yusuke tilted his head back and forth. Perhaps Ren had the right idea of training outside of the Metaverse, and Yusuke had been the one most out of breath after leaving it. Yusuke placed the brush down and approached Ryuji.
“Are you seriously gonna go out in your school uniform?”
Yusuke gave him one tilt of his head, and Ryuji sighed hard and picked himself up off the chair.
Yusuke counts his mistakes very carefully. Maybe it was a habit he picked up under sensei. A bad stroke. Raising your voice a touch too loud. Joining a gang that seemed to be a neat and tight jigsaw puzzle and dust in the wind (simultaneously, sometimes).
He counts running with Ryuji as his worst one yet. Standing less than a kilometer away from the Kosei dorms in front of the store Ren stole smuggled attained his guns from, his stomach attempting to figure out whether the instant noodles were friend or foe. And worst of all, Ryuji was there, desperately dragging over a trash can under Yusuke’s mouth and yelled “sorry” at least twenty times.
Eventually, Yusuke’s stomach decided the noodles would be better inside than out, and he was able to stand just high enough to meet Ryuji’s gaze. His head swapped between looking out at the street and the shop thrice before:
“Oh screw it, I’m never gonna be able to do this again. Canikissyoubutlikenotinaromanticway–”
“What?” The thought of Yusuke’s muse(s) being something more had never struck him.
“AndIneedtofigureoutwhetherI’mstraightor–”
Yusuke firmly pressed his hands on Ryuji’s shoulder and moved his face closer to Ryuji’s, abruptly ceasing whatever thought was about to exit Ryuji’s lips.
Instead, his lips do the talking. It's lightning quick, naturally, but he still commits to it 0fully, not going for Yusuke's cheek as any sense would suggest.
It takes a moment for the thunder to roll over Yusuke. His hands, perfectly in control on the canvas, suddenly had minds of their own, gravitating for Ryuji’s cheeks. His neck begs to just lean forward a little more. His legs, who had wailed for so long, had planted themselves into the ground so long as Yusuke did not return the gesture.
“Oh shit.”
Ryuji’s words shattered the spell. No, it was not just thunder, but an entire–
“Wait, no! Uhhh, it’s not you!” Ryuji quickly presses another kiss to Yusuke’s cheek, and his head finally clears of talk of lightning and thunder. “Look, dude, I gotta go talk to someone else. I’m sorry about leaving you so soon.” And just for extra self-assurance, a kiss on Yusuke’s right hand too.
Yusuke brings the hand up to his face as Ryuji turns to leave the alley. “Ryuji, may I…”
“Oh yeah, sure.” Ryuji leans over, offering his left cheek, and Yusuke swiftly obliges.
As Ryuji disappears into the crowd, Yusuke feels a spark go off inside, and he suddenly knows what was missing from that painting. His legs have never been quicker at running.
Ryuji
Ok
Maybe you right
Crazy blonde bitch <3
So is it like 1 or 3 or 5
Ryuji
???
Why must Yusuke’s muse be so absent? Yusuke was always left in a constant state of vacillation, with peaks so high it was like sensei had never existed at all, and troughs only slightly softened by his meetings with Ren. Ren, too, had disappeared with Ryuji under the pretense of helping him rebuild the Shujin track team. How lucky for him.
So Yusuke got desperate. He just needed some company while painting, right?
“What is this really about?”
Yusuke points his head out of the canvas. “Well, I just need a model–”
“Ren and Ryuji?”
“They have been mysteriously absent.”
“And you chose me?”
“Yes.”
“The one you asked to model nude?”
“I am truly sorry I made you–”
“Just say you want to ask about Ryuji.”
The blood in Yusuke’s cheeks seemed indecisive about whether they should rush in or out. “Well, it should seem rather odd to completely abandon someone after you kissed them.”
Tick. Tock. Ann blinks. Tick. Something weird is happening with her face. Tock. Ann usually talks more–
Ann shot up out of the seat, seizing his arm and dragging him out of the studio.
Ryuji creaked open the door. Not even his mother knocked that loud.
Ann’s eye stared back for a second. Then the door flew open.
Yusuke stared at Ryuji, shirt drenched in sweat (on top of a streak of paint), desperately trying to wrench away Ann’s arm.
Ann, for her part, is not angry. Not even close.
Ryuji had only seen this Ann when he declined her help with Kamoshida.
Ann threw Yusuke directly into Ryuji’s arms. And with a resounding thud, she was gone.
Yusuke slowly tilted his head up, his eyes tearing up. “To think you would hide from me…” Yusuke clung even tighter. “So…long…”
“Dude, it was–” Then Ryuji locks eyes with him.
Tick. Tock. Ryuji mumbles under his breath “of course there’s two.” He reciprocated the tight hug and leaned in.
This kiss was on the forehead, but it was far longer than any kiss Ryuji had had, even with Ann. Yusuke was the one to pull back. “You really…?”
“Of course, dude. Didn’t even hesitate to help me out.”
“And you won’t…?”
“Never.”
They don’t let go. Volleys of kisses, assurances, and every promise under the sun go back and forth.
They only stop when Ryuji’s mom opens the door.
Ryuji
Sry for not telling you
Ann
Say sorry to Yusuke first
Ryuji
[20160611_141110.jpg]
done
Ann
<3
pretty quick turnaround on getting a boyfriend
dont forget about me~
Ryuji
???
me and yusuke are literally
oh
thats what you mean
Yusuke doesn’t mind painting alone anymore. His little obsession has resolved into quiet appreciation.
Ryuji takes him out on runs, training him for the metaverse and rewarding him handsomely everytime Yusuke gets just a little bit faster. And in return, Ryuji gets the stars in his eyes over and over, and Yusuke can lean over and press a kiss to his cheek without a worry in the world.
There’s pleasure in knowing that sensei would be furious with him.
Ryuji
[20160617_121609.jpg]
drew me like one of his french girls first :P
Crazy blonde bitch <3
^_^
ok so do i have to paint you next or