Chapter Text
“Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice,” Gakushuu says.
“Why am I here again?” Karma asks, swinging back and forth in his seat.
“The wheels on that thing weren’t intended to be your personal plaything, you know,” Gakushuu says, staring very pointedly at Karma.
“You look like your dad,” Karma says, spinning a full 360 degrees. “If we slicked your hair back and made you stand on a crate I’m sure no one could tell the difference in a dimly lit room.”
“I think all that time you spent on top of a mountain has severely damaged your cognitive skills,” Gakushuu says, turning around to open a—PowerPoint presentation? “Long-term oxygen insufficiency has been known to do that.”
“Asano,” Karma says, very slowly, as the title loads onscreen, “what’s this about?”
“Well,” Gakushuu says, gesturing to the slide titled Reasons You Shouldn’t Date, “I can’t help but notice you’ve been attempting to pursue a romantic relationship.”
“It was one Tinder date,” Karma cuts in. “Rio made me go. He literally showed me pictures of his cats during the whole thing. Not that I’m complaining, but—,”
“That,” Gakushuu continues, as if Karma hadn’t spoken at all, “is detrimental to your career. And in general. In this presentation, I’ve compiled a list of reasons why it is ultimately highly inadvisable for you to begin a committed relationship.”
“Asano,” Karma says, again.
“Firstly, it is highly unlikely you’ll meet anyone capable of tolerating your neuroses, as illustrated here.”
“That’s a frame from that time you caught me on camera trying to break into your office,” Karma says, unimpressed.
“Precisely,” Gakushuu says, “incontestable evidence of your proclivity for chaos and chronic incapability to control your childish impulses.”
“It was one time,” Karma protests. The chair creaks. “See?” he says, “even the chair agrees.”
“This month,” Gakushuu says, evenly. “One time this month. And we’re, what, five days in?”
Karma pouts. “You give me boring stuff to do on purpose,” he says. “It’s like you want me to try and break in.”
“I want you to do your job,” Gakushuu says. “And that’s beside the point.”
“Which is?” Karma asks, arching an eyebrow.
“That no one unfamiliar with your particular brand of insanity could tolerate this behavior in a long-term romantic partner,” Gakushuu says.
“Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you’re right,” Karma says. “Why do you care who I date?”
Gakushuu falters. “I thought you said you weren’t dating.”
“I’m not, but still.”
Silence. Then, “I’m glad you asked, actually. This brings us to our second point. Data shows that committed relationships decrease the amount of time a person invests in their job by 15 percent, on average.”
“So, this is about you benefiting from my slave labor?”
“I pay you a very decent wage.”
“Yes,” Karma says, “but what about the emotional abuse I suffer at your hands?”
“Telling you that you can’t give presentations to our highly esteemed clients in your Sailor Moon pajamas isn’t emotional abuse,” Gakushuu says.
“But you like my Sailor Moon pajamas.”
“Irrelevant. It’s still inappropriate attire.”
“You say that like you didn’t come dressed as Sailor Mercury to last year’s company Halloween party.”
Gakushuu flushes. “I lost a bet,” he says.
“Remind me again what Sakakibara bet you?” Karma says, smiling wide.
“To get dressed as my favorite childhood superhero if I couldn’t hold my liquor,” Gakushuu says, sounding simultaneously irritated and generally resigned with life. Karma likes to think only he can bring that out in him, that it’s special like that.
“I still can’t believe you started complaining about your childhood two shots in,” Karma says.
“Moving on to my third point,” Gakushuu says, voice sharp. “Any sort of prospective partner most likely wouldn’t enjoy your tendency to barge into my apartment at odd hours in the morning.”
“I come for your cat,” Karma says. “You know this.”
“I am aware,” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “Princess is, unfortunately, very fond of you. But think about how it would seem to a sane person. You, with a bag full of unspecified items, sneaking out and returning hours later in much higher spirits.”
“I could just explain, you know.”
“And say what?” Gakushuu asks. “Oh, honey I’m going over to my boss’ house to pet his cat, okay, love you, bye. That’s probably already a euphemism in French.”
“Don’t you speak French?” Karma asks, squinting at him.
“I—a little, I don’t actually—,” Gakushuu says, growing redder by the second.
“Asano,” Karma says, “I’ve known you since middle school. What’s this really about?”
“I, uh, I just—I mean, I simply—I would miss you, alright?” Gakushuu says finally, almost a shriek.
“You would miss me?” Karma repeats, slowly.
“Yes,” Gakushuu says, fidgeting with the collar of his button-down. “I, um, realized. When you went on that date. I had this whole, weirdly vivid flash-forward to a life without your—without you. And it wasn’t particularly satisfactory.”
Like a thousand alarm bells going off at once, it dawns on Karma. “Is this—oh my God, is this your confession?” he says, something a little too panicked to be simple laughter escaping him.
“Yes?” Gakushuu says. "I thought I made it abundantly obvious.”
“You made a PowerPoint presentation,” Karma says. “Is that what qualifies as abundantly obvious in the Asano Gakushuu manual of romance?”
“I used Arial,” Gakushuu says, like he’s trying to defend himself.
“Oh,” Karma says, jumping to his feet. “My mistake. Everyone knows Arial means you don’t even need to wine and dine me beforehand.”
“It’s a very nice font,” Gakushuu says, a little choked and a lot redder than usual. “It shows a specific intent and personal attention that Times New Roman fails to while still emphasizing the seriousness of the topic. And I—I suppose I needed the comfort of a professional setting. In case your response turned out unfavorable.”
“My response?” Karma asks, taken aback.
Gakushuu switches to the next slide. Ultimately, for the above-mentioned list of reasons, it reads, this is why you shouldn’t date. Anyone but me, that is.
“So,” Gakushuu says, “will you?”
“Will I what?” Karma asks, smile slowly coming back.
“Will you date me, you unbearable human being?” Gakushuu asks.
“You really want me to?”
Gakushuu gestures to the PowerPoint, a little angrily.
Karma smiles. “Fair,” he says. “Okay. Okay, I’ll date you.”
“Good,” Gakushuu says, “that—that’s good. I’m glad you—”
Whatever he was going to say, he doesn’t get to, because Karma swoops in and kisses him. Gakushuu is still at first, but then Karma pulls him closer, and the kiss turns into something more fervent. Something Gakushuu would normally be too scandalized to even think about doing inside a conference room in the company he runs, Karma thinks, and if he weren’t too busy figuring out all the bits of Gakushuu he has yet to know, he would smile.
It feels like there’s a lot of time for it still, though. For now, he’s going to kiss this insufferable boy some more. His insufferable boy, now. For good.
…
“While it was very on-brand for you, I still can’t believe you confessed like that,” Karma says, later. “What are we going to tell our future children if they ask how mommy and daddy got together?”
“Oh, shut up,” Gakushuu says, only a little exasperated, and kisses him.
Beside them, Princess meows happily.