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In retrospect, Hawks shouldn’t have stopped at that conbini to grab a can of coffee. Maybe then he would have reached the library before the downpour. Thinking he could outrun the angry cloud following him into campus had been his first mistake. The second, apparently, was hoping that his misery would end there.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you in, sir,” said a stern-looking woman sitting behind the counter. She was wearing a Santa hat, but it looked like the festive air had yet to thaw out the icicle she had for a heart.
Mumbling an I understand, Hawks ducked back out of the building. The statement felt quite insincere. Hawks didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve this astral conjunction of bad luck. Shivering into his soaked jacket, he ducked under an overhanging balcony and took out his phone. With a defeated sigh, he tapped a quick text and pushed his freezing hands into his armpits. The afternoon air wasn’t exactly chilly, but he hadn’t thought of bringing an umbrella when he left the house. Now his hair was plastered to his face, and the only dry thing about the situation would be Touya’s humor as he made fun of him. Tch. At least Hawks had a thing for that sardonic little smirk.
Shaking his head, Hawks leaned his head back against the wall. The courtyard was a kaleidoscope of flashing Christmas lights. They shone off the wet sidewalk, painting the campus red, blue and green. Despite himself, a small smile played on his lips. He’d never been big on the imported holiday, but he couldn’t deny there was a certain magic to the light shows. Once a year, Fukuoka shone like a collection of shiny jewels, lighting up the night with its joyful artificial lighting. As a kid, Hawks used to get entranced looking at them. If he wasn’t as wet as a cooked noodle, he’d stay here all afternoon to look at them.
A snort from his left distracted him from his clattering teeth. He turned, and two amused turquoise eyes met his. Clad in a cozy raincoat, Touya was standing in the doorway of the library, gazing out at Hawks, who was still out in the pattering rain. If Hawks squinted, he thought he could glimpse the beginning of a smile on his lips. He was enjoying this far too much.
“Not a word,” Hawks said, but the warning came out sounding like a whine. With rain dripping from his nose, it was no use trying to look intimidating. Or to salvage his dignity. “I can practically feel how badly you want to crack a joke about bird baths.”
“You said that, not me,” Touya shot back, and now his mouth was definitely tugging upwards. He had also yet to get closer, the asshole.
Hawks resisted the urge to huff. “Well. Since the librarian won’t let me in and our project is due tomorrow, do you have any brilliant plan to save our grade?”
Touya shrugged. “My grade is fine,” he put in evenly, that amusement never leaving his eyes. “I’m dry, I have all the material I need here, and my citations don’t need revising. Why should I care that you’re shit out of luck?”
“Because you’re oh-so-generous?”
“Try again.”
“Come on! It’s a group project. For better or for worse, we’re in this together,” Hawks pleaded.
A glint passed through Touya’s eyes too fast for Hawks to catch. “Are we?”
Running out of options, Hawks rummaged in his messenger bag. He took out the traitorous purchase, shooting it one last betrayed look. It was his favorite brand, too. Et tu, my beloved caffeine.
“Alright. How about this? Borrow the books we need and let’s go study at my place. I’ll let you have my drink in exchange for the trouble.”
Touya’s gaze moved to the can. He gave a disinterested shrug of his shoulders. “Wax Coffee? Only you can drink that shit. If you wanna go for bribery, at least make it count. Buy me lunch and we have a deal.”
The suddenness of his agreement threw Hawks off guard. He blinked owlishly. Lunch?
“Prepackaged onigiris from the store don’t count,” Touya added. He disappeared back into the library before Hawks could offer a response, taking his silence as the only authorization he needed.
Hawks watched him go, closing his mouth with a click. Touya’s words had been innocent enough, his posture appropriately slack, but—had Hawks imagined the way Touya’s head had ducked, hiding those sharp turquoise eyes under his unkempt fringe?
Stomach twisting, Hawks retracted his still extended arm, hugging the can of coffee to his chest. Rationally, he knew Touya must have seized the opportunity for a free meal. So why couldn’t he shake the feeling he’d been asked on a date?
They shared an umbrella. Which, Hawks realized, was much more romantic in movies. In reality, Hawks spent the entire walk to the train station trying not to brush his shoulder against his much drier companion. And then his walk to Touya’s apartment, too, because Touya had no train pass or spare coins to buy a ticket.
“Let’s just go to mine,” Touya said, rolling his eyes when the machine ejected his crumpled bill without scanning it. “It’s closer, anyway.”
Hawks stopped in his fruitless attempts to flatten the money to shoot a curious glance at his companion. “You live alone?”
A shadow passed over Touya’s face, but he quickly wiped it away. “Aren’t you lucky? You’re about to find out.”
Touya didn’t live alone. That much became clear as soon as they entered the apartment. There were no shoes at the genkan, but Touya forewent five different sets of slippers before landing on a spare pair. He held them out, grimaced, and disappeared down the hall with them.
“Uhm,” Hawks put in, still in the doorway. “Getting bored of me already, man? I’m hurt.” There was no answer. “Hello?”
He heard a drawer opening and closing. “Just grabbing a towel,” came Touya’s drawl from a few rooms over. “I’m not cleaning up your mess.”
Right. At Hawks’ feet, a small puddle was steadily growing. He scratched his cheek.
“Sorry about that,” he said, looking up right on time to catch the towel with his face. He grinned, starting to pat his hair dry. “Aw, you really are quite generous today. Someone might even call this”—he lifted one corner of the fabric—“a nice gesture.”
“Keep running your mouth, and you’ll see how nicely I’ll kick you out.”
Hawks laughed, but started peeling his soaked jacket off. “Too late. Now that I’ve seen that you’re capable of compassion, I won’t buy that you’re tou—” A loud sneeze swallowed the rest of his sentence. A second one followed. Shit. He glanced sheepishly at his host. “Do you happen to have a tissue?”
Touya pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go grab a shower before I regret bringing you here.”
Touya had left a change of clothes for him on the dresser, and Hawks was trying to be calm and rational about this. They were just clothes. Clothes that Touya had worn. He’d worn them quite a lot, in fact, because Hawks recognized them on sight. His fingers traced the plain white top. It was the same low-cut shirt that had made focusing on his (blue, blue) eyes that much harder when they studied together. If it was such an ill fit on Touya, it would look downright obscene on Hawks' leaner frame. And that wasn’t even the worst part.
Chewing on his lip, Hawks stifled a groan. Touya owned plenty of loose clothes. Knowing that he must’ve grabbed the first shirt within his reach didn’t lessen the squirming in Hawks’ chest. Oddly enough, he almost wished Touya had picked this outfit to ogle at him. Hawks could deal with lust. The prospect of seeing himself clad in Touya’s clothes, though—innocent as it might be—was downright terrifying.
Taking another steadying breath, Hawks decided he wouldn’t make this weird. He started getting dressed, pointedly avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. Any more overthinking, and he would need another shower. An ice-cold one.
Hoodie zipped up to his chin, Hawks exited the bathroom. If Touya heard him open the door, he showed no sign of it, and Hawks took it as his chance to take a better look at the house. Now that he was paying more attention, he could see the signs of several people cohabiting in the same space. The place wasn’t cluttered, per se, but there was a certain homey vibe to the decor. A potted plant here, a Christmas tree there, a blanket draped over a couch. Hawks even spotted a couple of polaroids duct-taped to a wall. He got closer to inspect them.
The first one that caught his eye was a graduation picture of a guy with long, wavy hair. Next to it were some snapshots of a night out. A birthday party, maybe? A bulky dude with short blond hair was nursing a beer bottle and had his arms slung over a small group of people. Another picture showed the same guy doubled over on a table, seemingly passed out, and a tall man in a flashy waistcoat dealing cards. Hawks' eyes roved over all the photos, looking for familiar turquoise eyes, but came up empty. Uh. Odd. Maybe they’d all been taken before Touya moved here?
“Snooping around?” purred a voice near Hawks' ear, making him jump.
Hawks swiveled around, a hand flying to his heart. “How long have you been there?”
Touya smirked. “Enough to figure out what you were doing. I am in those pictures, too. You just haven’t looked hard enough.”
Hawks' brow furrowed. “I didn’t see you anywhere.”
“I’m right here.” Touya tapped on a corner of the graduation picture. It was a shadow.
“You’re fucking with me,” Hawks deadpanned, casting a sideways glare at his host.
Touya’s smirk widened. “No, that’s really me. Ask Toga if you don’t believe me.”
When Hawks' scowl didn’t recede, Touya gave a half shrug.
“She wouldn’t shut up about getting us all to pose. For ‘posterity,’ or whatever. So there I am.” He tapped the shadow again. “That’s as close as I could get the little gremlin to desist.” He moved a little to his right, looking at the photos from the birthday party. “I’m in these as well. I’m surprised you haven’t spotted me. You’re not much of a stalker.”
His smile never left his lips, but now there was the glint of a challenge in his eyes. Hawks squinted at him, suspicious, but gave in with a sigh. He turned his stare to the polaroids, chewing on his lip as he scanned them a second time. He was at least 80% sure that Touya was pulling his leg. Yet, a part of him was intrigued. Did Touya make it a habit to avoid the camera as much as he could? Or did he like the anonymity of a photographer, sharing the moments with his models but escaping the glare of a flash?
At last, Hawks found him. A tuft of spiky black hair poked in a tiny corner, right behind the blond man’s left arm. Touya must’ve ducked down to get something on the floor; only the top of his head was visible past the wall of people posing for the camera. Like the clumsy imprint of a finger at the corner of a photo, his presence there was almost accidental. You could only tell he was there by what was missing. Furrowing his brow, Hawks examined the other pictures, determined to prove his theory. Now that he knew what to look for, he found Touya easily. Next to the guy sprawled over the table was a skinny elbow covered in a black hoodie. Likely the same one Hawks was wearing.
“Uh,” Hawks said. Why was Touya showing him this? “I didn’t peg you for the shy type.”
Touya clicked his tongue. “I’m not,” he agreed.
Hawks waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Brows furrowing, Hawks considered Touya’s strange reaction to the mention of his roommates at the train station. Did he… not get along with them, or something? He frowned at the polaroids, his mind whirring. In them, everyone looked like they were having fun. They all seemed close, hanging off each other, smiling without facing the camera, distracted by a joke or caught in a noogie. Sure, Touya might not be the focus of any of these shots, but he was in most of them. A steady presence, hanging at the corners, easily missed, almost a bystander on everyone else’s fun. Yet an unequivocal part of their unit, judging by their insistence on capturing a still of his elusive company. Did Touya even realize he liked these people as much as they clearly liked him?
Hawks tilted his head, amusement and fondness alike making his eyes shine. “Admit it. You’re one of those guys who hate social media,” he joked. “You sound like the type who would rant for hours about the fake life of influencers, if given the chance.”
Touya cast him a sideways glance. “I don’t need an excuse to put you on blast, Mr. Popularity.”
Hawks laughed. “I’m not hearing a denial.” He elbowed Touya playfully. “I stand my case. You’re a social media and fun hater. You probably spend all your time grumbling about how the Ten Years Challenge was just a way for companies to perfect their facial recognition softwares.” He perked up, hitting his palm with a fist as if hit by a sudden realization. “That’s why you don’t let your friends take pictures of you. It all adds up. That’s my theory, anyway.”
Touya shoved him. “Your theory is shit.”
“If that’s your only rebuttal, your dialectic skills could use some work. I’m having second thoughts about working on a group project with you.” He dodged another shove, this time having expected it. “It’s sound logic! I bet you’d find many perks to being a social cryptid. For one, if your face doesn’t appear in the photos, your roommates can’t tag you on their social media.”
Touya snorted. “Toga still does. She set up an account for me and all.”
That piqued Hawks' interest. “What’s your handle?”
They held each other’s stare. Touya looked away first, shaking his head. “Figures you’d say that,” he muttered, but that smile had never left his face. “I’m not giving you the handle of my empty account managed by a gremlin high schooler.”
“Why not?” Hawks pouted.
“Cause she’s fucking weird. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.”
“I think we’d get along.” Hawks shoulder-checked him lightly. “She can’t be too bad if you’re hanging out with her. All of your friends sound like they’re fun, actually.”
“They’re not my friends,” Touya immediately denied.
Hawks had to suppress a smile. “Sure they’re not. By your standards, that’s basically a confirmation.”
Touya looked at him as if he was regretting not leaving him out in the cold December rain. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
That you’re the most contrarian person I know, Hawks didn’t say. He didn’t have a death wish. Grabbing the zipper of his hoodie, he hid his grinning mouth behind his collar.
Touya’s eyes followed the motion. A scowl crossed his features. “Are you really that cold?” he murmured, his gaze lingering and bordering on staring. It sized him up from head to (bare) toes, as if just realizing whose clothes Hawks was wearing. A beat passed, and Touya didn’t look away.
Hawks coughed. “Like what you see?” he teased, despite the knotting of his stomach. The weird nervousness he’d felt in front of that bathroom mirror returned, and it made his smile a tad stiff. He tried his best to ignore it.
“Hard to see anything,” Touya shot back in a lazy monotone, sounding almost bored. “You zipped yourself up like a sleeping bag. I take it that the rumors about your ink weren’t worth any money.”
“You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?” Hawks mused, awkwardness fading, replaced by amusement. “I’ll admit, you can think fast on your feet.”
Touya huffed. “I’m serious. I have a bet riding on this. I need the extra bucks.”
“What did you bet on?”
“Shigaraki said you’re too chicken to get a full sleeve and back tat. Said some shit about it shooting your chances to get a good job.” He smirked. “I had better informants.”
Hawks laughed. “Rumi?”
“I saved her a seat for the 7 am lecture and she owed me.” Those smoldering turquoise irises dropped down to his hoodie once again, almost subconsciously. There was a light of curiosity and fascination in them that made shivers run down Hawks' spine. “She said you finally made good on that shitty nickname of yours and got a pair of red wings on your back.”
Touya looked up again, catching himself in the act, and held Hawks' gaze expectantly.
“That why you let me shower here and lent me your loosest shirt?” Hawks fluttered his lashes, striking a pose. “All for a sneak peek at my new tattoo?”
“No, it’s because we have a fucking group project due tomorrow and I took pity on you,” Touya denied with a roll of his eyes.
Hawks hummed. “Did you, now.”
Hawks didn’t know what compelled him to keep pushing Touya’s buttons. But slowly, he inched closer, egging him on. He leaned into Touya’s space and saw his reflection in those unblinking blue pools. Touya’s gaze never left him, and this close, Hawks could hear it if he held his breath. The air between them felt almost electric. Hawks opened his mouth. Hesitated. Touya’s eyes got distracted by the motion before he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.
Hawks had had an inkling that Touya had been flirting with him earlier, but his oddly focused, intense stare just now left him no doubt. That, and the way Touya had yet to lean away. Hawks licked his suddenly dry lips. Those blue eyes didn’t track the movement, but Touya’s shoulders had gone very still, his entire posture tense. There were flecks of gray in his eyes that Hawks had never noticed before. They got swallowed by the black of Touya’s pupils as Hawks leaned closer and closer.
Hawks swallowed, and the sound was deafeningly loud in the silence between them. The back of his neck felt uncomfortably hot. It would be so easy to shift another inch and claim those mismatched lips. Instead, Hawks moved till he was an eyelash away from Touya’s ear. Like he was whispering a secret. His breath fanned over scarred skin.
Hawks inhaled to steady his nerves and murmured, sickly sweet, “You know, there were easier ways to get me to undress.”
Touya jerked away like an elastic stretched too far. He turned his head away, hiding the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. His shoulders bunched up, but when he spoke again, his voice was controlled. Almost bitter.
“Was cosplaying a puddle a crucial part of your plan to seduce me?” he muttered. With a huff, he walked off to the furthest door down the hall.
Hawks stood there for a moment, squashing down the squirming of his stomach. He’d just been trying to rile Touya up, hadn’t he? So why did he feel crushing disappointment?
He made himself laugh. “Aw, come on, man, you walked into that one!” And I sure seized the opportunity to turn the situation into a joke. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“Maybe you’re still in time to catch pneumonia if I kick you out now.”
Hawks followed him into what seemed to be Touya’s room. He looked around, curious about Touya’s living space. There wasn’t much to inspect, though; no posters on the wall, no pictures in sight, no shelves with prizes on display or random gadgets. Nothing to hint at Touya’s interests. There was only a small bookshelf in a corner and a chair full of clothes next to the closet.
Hawks’ eyes flickered to his host and away again. Touya wasn’t paying him any attention, busy taking books out of his backpack, so he approached the bookshelf. His eyes roved over it, tilting his head. He couldn’t deny that he was a little intrigued.
Touya was an odd oxymoron. His words were loud and sharp, often meant to sting, claiming attention; yet, his personality was anything but. His appearance, his self-confidence, didn’t belong to a person used to blend at the corners of someone else’s story, but Touya did so anyway. He hung around his group of friends like he was the odd one out. Someone dragged along in their chaos instead of an active part of their group. He was a keen observer of other people’s behaviour, but the moment he was the undivided focus of their attention, he shimmied out of any probing stare. But he’d still pointed at those pictures and said, That’s me. I was there all along. Please notice me.
Hawks wanted to notice everything.
He ran his fingertips over the spines of the books, taking in title after title, hungry for—something. He wasn’t quite sure what. All he knew was that he wanted to catch another clue, another hiccup in Touya’s song. Another hint at the man hiding behind the hunched shoulders, the flirtiness that was there and then brushed off with a sarcastic remark. What made Touya want to keep his cards close to his chest, inviting others to only guess at his hand? Was it Hawks who made him clam up, or was he simply scared of giving up control, too?
“Still not done snooping around like a creep?” Touya said, but he didn’t sound annoyed yet.
Hawks shrugged, taking out a copy of Chuuya Nakahara’s poetry. “You threatened to kick me out twice now. This might be my only chance to look around.”
He hadn’t bothered turning around as he replied, but he did when silence met his words. Touya was looking at him strangely. Not with hostility, but his gaze was oddly intense. Hawks struggled to place the emotion in his eyes. He didn’t like the faint furrow of Touya’s brows. Somehow, he felt like Touya was studying him, trying to figure him out as much as he was trying to figure out Touya.
Hawks put the book back on the shelf. It would be no use overthinking things now. Focusing on the books again, he shrugged off the feeling. Touya hadn’t told him to fuck off, had he? That had to count for something. He traced a couple more spines with his fingers, and that was when he caught sight of it.
His eyebrows lifted.
There it was, the contradiction he was looking for: a photo album. A fairly thick one, too.
The urge to pull it out and unearth Touya’s secrets was stronger than ever. Hawks was a man stranded on a desert, and in front of him there was a bottle of water. Yet… Hawks didn’t need to turn to know that Touya’s focused, intense eyes were still on him; he didn’t need to look to know that Touya had tensed up.
Hawks moved past the album.
His hesitation had lasted less than a blink, but Hawks was sure that Touya had noticed it all the same. Would he say anything? Hawks bit his lip. He busied himself extracting the umpteenth poetry collection and looking at the index, trying for nonchalant.
A chuckle made him look up into amused turquoise.
“Do you need me to go take a piss so you can sneak a glance at those pictures, too?”
Hawks’ shoulders loosened. “Depends,” he bargained, reverting into joking-mode to mask his relief. He threw a sultry look at his companion, winking. “How many of those are nudes?”
Touya ignored that, shaking his head. “You wanted to look. Don’t deny it.”
“I still do,” Hawks admitted, abandoning his book to sit down at the small table, too.
Touya leaned his cheek against his fist. “So why didn’t you?”
Hawks considered the question. Why hadn’t he, indeed? He couldn’t chalk it up to being afraid of crossing a boundary. No, it was more complicated than that. Touya was a mystery through and through, but one thing Hawks could tell for sure. Despite the facade of carelessness, behind the bravado Touya wore like a mask, it was clear Touya was a reserved person. He gave value to things that were just for his eyes. Hawks liked that about him, and he respected it. They had it in common.
“I know what it’s like to have people breathe down your neck,” was what Hawks finally settled for, surprising even himself by his honesty. His shoulders loosened, like admitting that much had lifted a weight he didn’t know he was carrying.
Every moment of Hawks’ life was part of a strict schedule. Being on a scholarship, he wasn’t allowed to have a part-time job. But with his parents sucking his bank account dry, Hawks had to make ends meet somehow. Between maintaining a good GPA, the two jobs he worked off the records, captaincy of the track team and his classes, he would turn gray by the time he was thirty.
There was always someone scrutinizing him. The team’s fan club, his bosses, and most of all, his tutors. When they weren’t inspecting his academic results, they probed into his personal life, casting judgment on this or that hobby, vetoing this or that ‘distraction’. Perhaps that had been why his conbini detour had been such a temptation earlier that day. When Hawks wasn’t sleeping, he was running on caffeine and plastic smiles.
“There’s very little about my life I feel in control of,” Hawks confessed. “That’s why I started getting tattoos.” And why I lay it on thick with the flirting, he didn’t say. In different ways, both things were easy deflections from other people’s suffocating expectations.
He tried for a smile, but it felt hollow. His gaze fell to his hands. Holding Touya’s seemed impossible right now. He laughed humorlessly, tugging at the sleeves of his borrowed hoodie. In an ideal world, he could paint, crochet, or write poetry. His body wouldn’t need to be his only canvas. But while his time wasn’t his, his body was the only autonomy he had left. Once the ink had stained his skin, it was permanently there. No one could take it away, no matter how ‘unprofessional’ it would make him look. Once it was out there for everyone to see, ironically, it had the privilege of being something just for his eyes. It became his.
“It’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s not like I can keep something like a huge back tattoo a secret. I’m in a sports club. I change in front of my teammates every day. But I like that it forces people to re-evaluate their assumptions about me. Since I jest so much, everyone always thinks they know all I’m about. But when they catch a glimpse of my ink, they make up narratives to interpret it, and that keeps them guessing. It throws them off my scent long enough for me to breathe, you know?”
There was a stretch of silence, and Hawks finally looked up to meet Touya’s gaze, his stomach knotting. Was that too much honesty? He’d figured Touya would appreciate the lack of bullshit for once.
Maybe he should’ve dosed it more.
“You do that a lot,” Touya said at last. His voice was even, his tone almost nonchalant, but his expression had shut off. “Keeping people guessing.”
At once, Hawks realized his mistake. He suppressed a wince, knowing it would be received even more poorly than his already poorly worded explanation. Shit. Figures that the one time he tried honesty, he ended up sticking his whole foot in his mouth. He racked his brain for a way to fix this. What could he even say? I did catch that you’re into me and yes, I was definitely keeping you hanging! But trust me, I feel the same! Promise! I was about to kiss you earlier, but that would make it a little too real, so I got cold feet.
Yeah, no. That would never fly. But Touya was clearly done with the conversation. He’d turned on his laptop and started cracking open a couple of books. With each second that went by, the hole Hawks had dug for himself grew deeper. If Hawks didn’t say anything, they’d soon descend into silence and never talk about this ever again. Once their group project was over, Touya would have no reason to bother with him anymore.
Explain yourself.
Biting his lip, Hawks blurted, “My feet get cold!” The words caught up with his brain a moment later, pulling a grimace out of him. That was not what he’d meant to say. But Touya was slowly lifting his gaze from his textbook, so Hawks considered that progress.
Unfortunately, Touya was also looking at him with open confusion. “What?”
Thank fuck. A chance to backtrack.
“I said, my toes are cold. You forgot to lend me a pair of socks.” The excuse rolled off his tongue easily. It was pretty chilly in here.
Now that the pleasant warmth from his shower had worn off, Hawks noticed the lack of heaters in the house. In fact, Touya’s bed still had light covers, too. Was he one of those people who constantly ran hot? Man, that sounded nice. Cuddling with him would be so cozy. Hawks was almost jealous of whoever got to sleep with him.
Touya’s unimpressed monotone brought him back to the present. “Go grab your shit. I don’t have all day.” He pulled up their powerpoint presentation.
“Aw, not even budging? Now that’s cold. Even my freezing toes are shivering,” Hawks joked, but he obligingly pattered down the hall to retrieve his bag.
Thankfully, it seemed like the waterproof fabric had protected his stuff from getting soaked. Hawks sat back down, setting out the material. He went as far as paging through his notes for the first of his still blank citations before flopping over the table. Citing sources sucked. How was he supposed to fill out something as boring as the academic version of paperwork when he had a much more interesting distraction sitting next to him?
“Come on. Where did all your surprising chivalry go? You let me borrow your undies, but socks are where you draw the line? Surprisingly kinky.” He rested his cheek over his elbow and grinned up at his companion. “Did you forget to do your laundry or something? I won’t judge. Just tell me you’re not karmically punishing me via frozen feet for ruining… whatever your plans were for today.”
Touya looked up at the ceiling as if praying for strength. “Do you ever shut up?”
“Not when I have pressing questions like this one still unanswered,” Hawks supplied easily, his smile widening.
It was so easy to mess with him. It almost made Hawks think Touya would eventually forget that he was mad at him. Perhaps, if Hawks messed with him a while longer, he would even get a clean slate to start anew.
“I didn’t forget to do laundry,” Touya said, spitting out every word like it pained him greatly. “I don’t own any socks.”
It was Hawks’ turn to be confused. “What? But you wear boots all the time.”
“Yes.” Touya’s gaze returned to his computer. He tapped away at his keyboard, not elaborating further.
Unfortunately for him, now Hawks was intrigued. “You’re serious,” he realized, his eyebrows shooting up. “So wait, do you have no socks at all? Not even Christmas stockings?” There was no reply. Hawks took that as a no. “Where does Santa leave all your candy?”
Touya was determinedly not looking at him, and Hawks laughed heartily. His eyes returned to the bed briefly, and he realized that Touya must have a superhuman tolerance for the cold. Either that, or the chafing on his ankles was more trouble than it was worth it. Hawks dropped it, but his eyes were brimming with newfound fondness. He knew what to give Touya for Christmas now, at least. Candy. Perhaps even chocolates. A big box full of the most tooth-achingly sweet treats Hawks could afford.
Shifting closer, Hawks squinted at the laptop screen. He watched Touya work for a moment, his eyes swimming over the text. “You know,” he said at last. Touya made no sound of acknowledgment. “I know another way you can keep me warm.”
The tapping on the keyboard keys halted, then resumed even more furiously. “Finish revising your notes, Hawks,” muttered Touya.
Hawks didn’t. Instead, he grabbed his notebook and a pencil, and pushed Touya’s left arm away, wiggling underneath it. His plan had been that of wiggling into Touya’s lap for optimal warmth. However, Touya had other ideas. Hawks got as far as slinging Touya’s arm over his shoulders before that same arm roughly pushed him away.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Touya hissed, sounding halfway between strangled and homicidal.
That was an excellent question. Hawks floundered. “Cuddling?” he tried.
It came out sounding more hesitant than he intended, and Touya’s eyes flashed. The power of his glare made Hawks feel self-conscious. He wasn’t cut out for romance. Or honesty. Or both. He rubbed his arms, avoiding Touya’s eyes. The urge to flee from that probing stare was overpowering. As usual, Hawks covered it up with a joke.
“I really wasn’t kidding about being cold. Was that too much for first base? We haven’t even kissed yet. Personally, I tend to go a bit faster. I’m a bit of a slut.”
There was a beat of silence. When Touya didn’t say anything, Hawks hesitantly lifted his gaze. The look in Touya’s eyes was one of stunned disbelief. At last, Touya rose to his feet, looking down at him with a fierce glare.
“Don’t drag me into your stupid mind games,” Touya said lowly, and the coldness in his eyes looked like hurt. “I don’t care how many chuckles you get from leading someone like me around. You can either take this fucking group project seriously or grab your shit and walk out that door. I’m sure your tutors will find a way to save your GPA even if you don’t show up for the presentation tomorrow.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked away. “You know, I could’ve taken a straight no. Maybe I should’ve said that from the start. It would’ve saved you the time of coming up with a way to humiliate me.”
Shoulders bunching up, Touya stormed off. Hawks heard the sound of the bathroom door slamming closed.
Shit.
There was a Starbucks around the corner from Touya’s place. Rubbing his hands together, Hawks pushed the door open and waited in line. Christmas music immediately assaulted his ears. They were playing Mariah Carey’s All I want for Christmas is you, as if to pour salt over his fresh wounds. Hawks robotically ordered a drink.
He wasn’t running away.
Or was he?
Casting a glance outside, Hawks wondered if leaving had really been the best choice. After Touya had left, Hawks had debated whether to stay and clear things up or give Touya space. Were it for him, he would’ve stayed. But he wasn’t sure that Touya would appreciate finding Hawks still in his room once he came back.
A barista called his name, and Hawks grabbed his drink with a mumbled thank you.
A part of him wanted to believe that a straight, honest chat would fix this. But Hawks had dug his grave with words. Could he really trust his mouth to be sincere? Evidence proved that no matter how much Hawks wanted to say the words, they always died on the way to his tongue. Especially when it mattered. Hawks had always been a master at denying himself the things he wanted. If he ruined his chances from the get-go, he couldn’t mourn what was always within his grasp, but still out of reach.
Sighing into his cup, Hawks occupied a table. He took out his borrowed books and set out to finish his assignment.
One day, he vowed. He would give Touya space for one day. Tomorrow, Hawks would swallow his nerves and confess. Touya deserved better than becoming collateral to Hawks’ crippling insecurity.
Waiting for the class to fill out, Hawks kept staring at the door, his heart hammering in his chest. What if Touya didn’t show up? What if Hawks never got a chance to apologize and explain himself? He felt ill just thinking about it. Nevermind his cold feet. The anxiety of leaving Touya hanging, thinking that Hawks had been mocking his feelings all along, was much worse than his fear of commitment. If he could go back in time, Hawks would slap himself for the shit he’d pulled.
At last, a familiar head of black hair poked through the door. Turquoise eyes roved over the few empty seats, landing on Hawks at last. Upon seeing him, Touya’s face crumpled like he’d bitten into a particularly sour lemon.
Guilt squashed Hawks’ throat in a vise. He deserved that stare. Avoiding Touya’s eyes, he lifted his bag from the seat next to him in a silent invitation. After a moment, Touya plopped down next to him.
“Didn’t think you’d show your face today,” he muttered.
Hawks fidgeted with the cap of his ballpoint pen. “You didn’t give me a chance to respond yesterday,” he mumbled back. He heard a scoff.
“You left,” Touya said dryly. “Was that not your answer?”
“It wasn’t. I just thought I had pushed enough boundaries for a single day. I figured you’d be more willing to listen if we talked on more neutral grounds. So uh.” Hawks scratched his cheek. “Here I am.”
“I’m still not hearing an apology.”
Hawks cleared his throat. He clicked his pen on and off again, stalling. “I'm sorry," he said as earnestly as he could while still staring at his hands. "Trust me, making you uncomfortable was never remotely my intention. I—this is a misunderstanding. But I can explain." Silence. “Check my bag.”
“Why?” Touya asked.
“Just check it.” Hawks heard rustling, a zipper opening. A quiet huff.
“Nice groceries.”
At last, Keigo made himself look up into that familiar shade of turquoise. He remembered the flecks of gray he’d spotted yesterday. Would he ever come close enough to catch a second glimpse of them? For now, it seemed like an impossible delusion.
“They’re the ingredients to make karaage,” he explained to distract himself from that thought. “I don’t know if you like it, but it’s the only food I can cook with my eyes closed. I, uhm. I hope you were serious about getting lunch together.”
Touya dropped the bag back to the floor, his face pinching. “You forgot your clothes at my place. Pass by later today to grab them or I’ll throw them away. Don’t bother returning mine.” It was a clear dismissal.
Hawks closed his eyes, his stomach knotting. Shit, he’d already fucked up again. He should’ve led with that other thing. If he said that now, Touya would think Hawks was fucking with him. Again. Child prodigy or not, it turned out that Hawks was fucking terrible at interpersonal skills, uh? Right now, he would kill for a crash course in healthy communication techniques. Every time he opened his mouth, he made things worse.
“Please,” he begged. “Just give me this chance to explain myself. You’ll get a free meal out of this, and I’ll get out of your hair afterward, if you still want me gone. That’s all I’m asking.”
There was another stretch of silence. The professor walked in right as Hawks thought he was about to get turned down.
“Fine,” Touya muttered at last.
Hawks had the feeling that Touya had simply relented to shut him up. Still, he wouldn’t ruin this opportunity.
Third time’s the charm, wasn’t it?
“You said that you would explain. So”—Touya pointed a celery at him—“Explain.”
Chopping the chicken breast, Hawks considered his options. Where should he even start?
“If I lead with the truth, will you let me finish before throwing me out again?”
Touya bit into his celery. “Depends. Try to be convincing.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, given how I acted…” Hawks took a steadying breath. “… But I really like you, too.” He didn’t look up as he blurted out the words, focusing on slicing his chicken as evenly as he could. Thankfully, he hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning. His stomach was all too willing to send its contents back up.
Touya remained silent, so Hawks made himself continue.
“You were right about one thing, though. I knew your intentions from the start.” He paused, then admitted, “At first, it was heady.”
He heard a scoff and glanced up to see that Touya was rummaging through his cabinets. He pulled out a plate and some disposable chopsticks. His posture wasn’t tense, but Hawks couldn’t see his eyes. Had Touya expected Hawks to say that? He certainly didn’t look surprised.
Hawks set out to prepare the marinade. Keeping his hands busy made this easier. Once his mind was set on a goal, however trivial, his feelings were easier to shut down, to push down a corner for the time being. It was a skill born out of the countless all-nighters he pulled to be on top of his schoolwork. He’d always hated it; hated the ease with which he pretended to be okay with that life.
Now, he blessed his ability to compartmentalize. It made honesty a tad less terrifying.
"But then I realized you were a much more decent guy than some of my one-night-stands. You were surprisingly thoughtful. Patient, even. Even I would've kicked myself for that almost kiss," he admitted.
"I considered it," Touya said, startling a chuckle out of Hawks.
"Fair enough."
"Why did you even pull that shit?"
Hawks hummed. "I got scared," he whispered. "I'm not used to thoughtful. I—” He swallowed hard. “I didn’t grow up in an… affectionate environment. I don’t exactly do dating, either. Usually people get bored of me fast when they realize my life isn't as picture-perfect as my Instagram advertises. For one, I work two jobs and I have no free time. I also have insufferable tutors who love micromanaging every minute of my life, holding my future over me as a weapon. That, and my loud mouth typically ruins any chances I have to ever go anywhere. As you noticed."
Having left the chicken to marinate, he glanced up again. Touya was studying him, seemingly pondering over something. Hawks' hands itched, restless. He set out to mix the flours to give himself something to do.
"Do your tutors micromanage your dating life as well?" Touya inquired.
Hawks stilled. "They don't need to. As I said, I never really dated anyone."
"And if you had?" Touya pressed, his voice growing urgent enough to draw Hawks' eye again. His expression was neutral, almost deliberately so.
"I don't know. I never gave the thought much attention, to be honest. Without a boyfriend—or a willing candidate for the role—I never felt the need to test the waters. I guess they would see it as a distraction," he said at last.
Touya appeared to be mulling that over. When he spoke again, his gaze was cutting, observing him closely. "Do you purposefully ruin your chances so you don't have to find out?"
The first response on the tip of Hawks' mouth was a knee-jerk no. One look at the fire simmering in Touya's eyes was enough for the syllable to get stuck in his throat, though.
The urge to crack a flirty joke to deflect reared its ugly head, giving Hawks the answer he needed. He squashed it down.
He returned to his cooking to avoid Touya's questions. The chicken needed to marinate longer, but if Hawks didn't keep his hands busy, he would lose his mind.
"You said you'd tell me the truth, Hawks."
Hawks set down the food. "I don't know," he gritted out, perhaps a tad more forcefully than needed. He slammed his palms against the counters. His knees felt weak. "You think this is easy for me? Why don't you tell me what's in that photo album in your room, instead?"
It was a low blow. Hawks knew it was. For a moment, Touya looked angry enough to kick him out. Hawks wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, shoulders bunching up.
For a moment, running away almost seemed better than staying.
"It's family pictures," Touya said.
Hawks' face swiveled up to him, his eyes widening. "What?"
"The album. It's all pictures of my family." Touya ran a hand across his face, almost hiding away from Hawks' gaping shock. "Baby pictures, mostly. My father lost all interest in us once we were old enough to talk and develop conscious thought. He always liked kids best when they were babies. It made it easier to think of them as disposable toys."
Hawks didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," he finally mumbled, eyes downcast.
Touya laughed humorlessly. "That he's a heartless bastard? Me too."
"No, I—" Hawks hesitated. "Would you have told me if I hadn't pried?"
"Would you?"
"Probably not," Hawks conceded. "We really are more similar than I thought."
They lapsed into silence. Maybe the uncharacteristic honesty had taken a toll on them, but it had also zapped out most of the tension between them. When Hawks started deep-frying the meat, Touya actually got closer to help. Between the two of them, the food didn't take long to make. Hawks set it out on a serving plate. When that was done, too, he figured he had outstayed his welcome. Without cooking as an excuse, he didn't know if Touya would feel any obligation to listen anymore. Besides, Hawks wasn't sure he had any more juice for another heart-to-heart.
With a sigh, Touya ducked into his cupboard again, reemerging with another plate and an extra pair of chopsticks. He wordlessly set out the table for two.
"Does this mean you accepted my apology?" Hawks asked.
Touya divided the chicken evenly between the plates. "Just eat your fucking chicken," he said tiredly, but there wasn't much bite to the remark.
Hawks sat down.
Two days later, Hawks returned Touya's clothes, freshly washed and smelling of lavender. He dropped by between one lecture and the next and was out of the door as soon as Touya mumbled a thanks.
They kept meeting afterward. Mostly in passing. Then, a week later, Touya saw a familiar silhouette on his way back from his last class. Frazzled and looking like he hadn't slept in just as long, Hawks had needed Touya's coffee more than him. If it was black, all the better. The bitterness would wake him up faster than all the artificial sweetness of his usual toppings.
Before they knew it, winter break was around the corner. Hawks’ classes eased up, and his club activities were suspended. Perhaps that was how Hawks found himself ringing Touya's doorbell a couple of days later, a bag of donuts in hand. He’d meant to repay him for that (vile, undrinkable) coffee, but he hadn’t seen him around campus much ever since. That single-minded goal had pushed Hawks through the last week of retail hell.
Things between him and Touya were getting easier. Perhaps too easy. He’d been daydreaming about turquoise eyes all morning, wishing for an excuse to see him. Unfortunately for him, though, the guy who opened the door wasn’t Touya. They blinked at each other for a moment, and Hawks held the bag out.
"Er, I brought donuts…?" he said awkwardly.
The guy—Shigaraki, as he'd later learn—grabbed the treats and left, leaving Hawks in the doorway. "The fucker came back," he announced, off in the distance. "Pay up."
Still in the doorway, Hawks debated whether he should leave. Was Touya not home? Should he… leave a message? Uhm. Turning on his heels, he made it three whole steps back before a beefy arm was slung over his shoulders.
"Hawks! It's great to meet you. I'm Jin." Then, in a deeper voice, he added, "I just lost 3000 yen because of you!"
"Ehm, sorry? I think?" Hawks tried, getting whiplash.
A high-pitched squeal cut off any response the guy might've come up with. Hawks blinked, and he only glimpsed blurry blonde buns before an armful of overexcited teenager tested his reflexes.
"Hawksie!" the girl squealed, showing off two very sharp canines. "Touya-kun is out on an errand with Shuichi-kun, but you'll wait for him here, won't you, bestie? Your birthday is around the corner, and I still don’t know what gift to give you! You need to tell me your blood type, the hour you were born in, and whether you have any food allergies. Oh, and chicken is your favorite, right? I'll tell Atsuhiro-kun to include it on the menu."
Hawks floundered, struggling to follow the fast-paced babble. "The menu?" he echoed, utterly lost.
The blond guy clapped his back, stealing all the breath from him. "For Christmas! Touya is cooking for us. No, he's not!"
The girl (Toga?) giggled. "Well, he certainly is if Hawksie will be there." Her smile turned wicked. Yeah, this was Toga all right.
"Hold on. I never got an invitation from him. Are you sure you should be speaking for him?"
"Speaking for whom?" a lazy voice asked at his back. Hawks jumped. He turned around, meeting familiar turquoise.
"It's already decided!" Toga all but dragged Hawks inside. "Hawksie is joining us for Christmas!" she announced to the rest of the house, to a chorus of grunts of varied enthusiasm.
Uh.
“Hope you didn’t have plans,” Touya muttered once Toga was successfully distracted by the (now almost empty) box of donuts.
Hawks smiled. “Well, looks like I do now.”
Touya did cook for Christmas. A fact that lost most of its charm once Hawks found out that the rest of his roommates couldn't even boil some spaghetti without setting off the fire alarm. All in all, he considered himself lucky; he hadn't spent the break at the ER for food poisoning. Even with the mistletoe strategically placed at every nook and cranny of the house—or held above his and Touya's heads by a grinning Jin—the day went by smoothly. Which was to say, without Touya slitting any throats with a butter knife. It was a close call, though.
To the chagrin of his roommates, their first kiss had no flare or dramatics. It wasn't under a mistletoe, for one, but in the kitchen, after Hawks had finished washing the dishes. It had no audience, either. At least for the first blissful minutes. Hawks lost himself in the sensation of mismatched lips pressed against him, against his throat, against the edges of his ink visible through the cut of his shirt. Then a camera flash startled a squawk out of him, bringing those (wonderful, addictive) lips away from him. To his greatest disappointment, they didn't return to his skin, too busy mouthing a litany of expletives.
Mourning the loss of contact, Hawks didn't immediately jump in to break the fight. That turned out to be a mistake. When both parties grabbed bags of flour, Hawks realized he had no intention of subjecting himself to a white Christmas. He snatched the bag from Touya’s hands.
“We’re not having a food fight,” he said sternly. What were they, twelve?
Actually, Toga might as well have been. Hawks made a mental note to ask. Later. Once they reached a truce. That observation seemed particularly apt when she stuck her tongue out and hid her phone in her bra. Touya’s attempts to snatch it ceased at once, and he pulled a face in response. Hawks pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Let me deal with this," he pleaded, not keen on bailing his boyfriend out of a cell on Christmas day.
Touya looked torn between accepting the help and disgust for where that phone had been. The latter seemed to win out.
Hawks held out his hand. "Hand me the phone, Toga."
The girl pouted. "Will you delete the picture, too? It's so cute!"
"It's not cool to snap pictures of intimate moments without getting consent first," Hawks said, sternly but not unkindly, and saw the moment Toga's glee muted into regret.
She pulled her device out, mutely handing it over. Touya scoffed in disbelief.
"Really?" he said. "All it takes is one pep talk about consent from him, and you walk with your tail between your legs? You've been trying to sneak pictures of me sleeping since I met you."
They started bickering again, but Hawks only paid them half a mind. His eyes had fallen to the picture, and his stomach dropped. He’d expected to get a shot of their make-out session. What he found was much more tender, and his mouth went dry. The snapshot had caught a moment between all the heated kisses. Hawks' face was flushed, his expression caught between shyness and adoration. But Touya—Touya was smiling. It wasn't his usual smirk, either, but something softer, more intimate. Something meant just for Hawks' eyes.
Before Hawks could consciously realize it, he was texting himself the photograph. He deleted the original from Toga's phone and their text history as well.
This seemed to catch Toga's attention. Touya was squishing her cheeks and puckering her lips, but the look she sent to Hawks still conveyed all her betrayal. Swatting her housemate away, she flung herself at Hawks with a whine.
"Hawksiee," she lamented. "What am I going to upload to Touya-kun's profile now?"
"Nothing," Touya supplied all too gleefully, smirking down at her. Unlike his friend, he hadn't noticed that Hawks had sent himself a copy of the photograph.
"I'll make sure to get him to pose for me one day. With his consent," Hawks bargained.
The smile dropped from Touya's face, but Toga forgot her bad mood altogether.
"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up.
"That's never going to happen," Touya grumbled.
"What's not going to happen?" Atsuhiro asked, entering the kitchen, too.
The innocent question descended into a new round of arguing, and Hawks gave up trying to mediate. He went to sit next to Shigaraki, who was setting up some game to play with Shuichi.
"Mind if I join? Those two are exhausting."
Shigaraki considered him, seemingly debating the pros and cons of adding a player with unknown skillsets to his team. At last, he gave in with a shrug. "Knock yourself out."
When Shuichi handed him a controller, Hawks felt a bit like he was receiving the blessing of the grumpiest adoptive siblings in the world. He bit his lip against a laugh. Between that and the picture secured on his phone, his chest felt warm.
Sinking into the couch, Hawks smiled. He could get used to this. He wanted to.
For the first time in his life, that was all he'd ever needed to worry about.