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It’s twenty minutes to midnight, and Chiaki has embarked on a heroic mission.
At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself. Convincing his brain that he’s on a quest to save a damsel in distress makes the lonely walk in the dark to the ES building a bit less daunting.
He hadn’t intended to be out at such a late hour. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to be awake. But a text from said damsel - he really shouldn’t refer to Kanata like that, he thinks, because he’s more than capable of saving himself - asking for company got him up out of bed and slipping on his sneakers. Morisawa Chiaki never hesitates when a friend needs something from him. Especially not when that friend is Kanata.
He’s still rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes as he tugs open the building’s doors, already making a beeline toward the elevators. The warmth of the lobby is comforting against his chilled skin, though he knows he won’t be able to bask in it for long. Chiaki understands more and more about Kanata every day, yet he doesn’t think he’ll ever comprehend why he believes a swim at this hour is logical.
The ride up to the hanging garden is over in the blink of a tired eye, and he slips his hands in his pockets as he steps back into the nighttime air. It’s a nice evening despite being a bit chilly, the sky wide and clear and decorated with a smattering of stars.
As the pond comes into view, so does a mop of pretty blue hair. Kanata is as still as a statue where he sits in the water, legs hugged to his chest, until Chiaki steps into range. Then his head rises up from where it rested on his knees, he sits up a bit straighter, and his lips curve into a delicate smile. Chiaki loves watching Kanata perk up like this whenever he catches sight of him, like a flower spreading its petals toward the sun. He likes the idea of being Kanata’s sun, something he can’t live without, something that makes him feel warm inside.
“Chiaki.”
At the sound of his name, Chiaki breaks into a smile he didn’t realize he’d been holding back from displaying.
“Kanata.”
“Join me?”
Brown eyes scan the water hesitantly. Chiaki should not be doing this. There is work to be done tomorrow, and with the chill of a late night breeze it will be a miracle if neither of them catch colds. Yet Chiaki gives in to him anyway, slipping off his shoes and setting his jacket down beside them before taking a careful step into the pond. Surprisingly, the water isn’t nearly as frigid as he expects it to be. Maybe it’s because of the brisk air around them, or maybe Tenshouin installed some kind of heater, knowing that the pond would have a guest more often than not. Whatever it is makes sinking down into the water a bit easier.
The liquid laps against Chiaki’s stomach as he settles into as comfortable of a sitting position as he can, legs criss-crossed. Kanata, not even a foot to his right, smiles at him like this is the most natural thing in the world, two teenagers sitting in a pond at the stroke of midnight, fully clothed.
“You came.”
What a silly statement. Of course he came. Chiaki will do anything for Kanata, so he says as much.
“Of course I did! I promised I would go anywhere if you called out for me, didn’t I?”
“Yep,” Kanata nods slowly, shifting his gaze toward a lilypad drifting aimlessly along the pond’s surface. “Even if I have no ‘reason’ to ‘call’ for you. I remember.”
Chiaki absentmindedly cups a handful of water, watching it drip between his fingers and splash back where it belongs. “And is there a reason now?”
Kanata pauses for a moment, then puffs out his cheeks, laying his chin back atop his knees. “Not anymore.”
“Not anymore?” That’s one way to catch Chiaki’s attention. He wouldn’t mind having been asked to come out here for no purpose other than to provide company, but the thought that Kanata has - or at least had - another motive rouses his curiosity. “Was there a reason before?”
“Hmm…no.”
Yeah, Chiaki’s not buying it. He honestly doesn’t think Kanata expects him to. “It’s no good to lie, you know. Especially not as a hero of justice.”
Kanata exhales and seemingly resigns, hugging his legs just a bit tighter. “I wanted to ‘tell’ Chiaki something.”
That…really didn’t narrow things down at all. There are about a million things Kanata could spring on him right now. Maybe he’s going through a rough patch. Maybe it’s family issues (and oh, how Chiaki wants to know something, anything about Kanata’s familial situation, but he knows it isn’t his place to ask or to know at all). Maybe nothing is wrong, and Kanata wants to share good news and Chiaki’s here getting all in his head over nothing.
“You know you can tell me anything. We’re each other’s trusted confidants, right? I share everything with you.” Kanata gives him a side eye like he’s told a half-truth, though Chiaki swears it’s whole. At least, in high school it was. Guilt crests in his throat and he swallows it down. That isn’t the point right now.
Kanata’s focus has returned to the lilypad, and Chiaki finds himself following his line of sight. The plant is small, maybe the size of his palm. He’s had to pluck those off of Kanata’s head several times since they started working in this building.
“I ‘like’ you, Chiaki.”
Silence falls like a blanket over the garden. Kanata is staring at the poor lilypad like he’s trying to bore a hole into it with his mind. Chiaki’s chest tightens as he waits for him to say more, to tack on a “but” or go off on some tangent, but the quietness prevails. Morisawa Chiaki and silence don’t mix, so he breaks it.
“You like me?”
A nod.
“Like, as a friend?”
“More.”
More. Chiaki briefly feels like his mind is swimming, and all it took was one word. Is this a confession? If Kanata likes him as more than a friend, and he likes Kanata as more than a friend, then that means both of their feelings are reciprocated, right? It doesn’t seem right. Chiaki knows damn well why he fell for Kanata, would list the reasons off if he had enough fingers to do so. But Kanata liking him? Chiaki is aware that everyone is their own harshest critic, but he’s certain that Kanata’s affection is wholly undeserved. He’s about to voice this, but Kanata doesn’t let him. He wonders if he knew what he was thinking.
“I like being ‘around’ you. Every day is ‘fun’ when I spend it with you.” There’s a sincerity to Kanata’s tone and Chiaki knows he’s speaking straight from the heart. His own is pounding against his ribcage. “When Chiaki is around, I feel safe. I feel like ‘myself’. I do not want to ‘think’ about where I would be without you.”
Chiaki could say every single one of those words back to Kanata and mean them wholeheartedly. He’s confident in how he feels, but the idea that another person could experience those same feelings directed toward him is both mind boggling and cheek reddening. If not for the breeze nipping at his flushed face, he might’ve thought this was a dream.
“You taught me how it feels to be ‘comfortable’ in someone’s arms. It feels ‘good’ when you hold me. I want more of that ‘feeling’.”
Kanata lifts his head and their gazes meet properly for the first time since this conversation began. Chiaki has always liked Kanata’s eyes. They remind him of peridot and fresh grass in the spring. He finds it very easy to get lost in them, like he is now.
“I want to ‘kiss’ you, Chiaki.”
Tell it like it is, why don’t you. Chiaki feels his stomach do a flip. Is this really happening? Right here, in the garden pond? Given their track record, maybe Chiaki’s a fool for meeting Kanata by a body of water in the moonlight and not expecting something monumental to happen. The grin is slipping off his face in favor of a far more flustered expression as he searches for the right words. There are a lot of things he’d imagined saying to Kanata at a time like this, yet he’s lost his ability to articulate any of it properly.
“Y..You really… I mean, I’d like that! A lot, actually. I, uh- ah…”
Ripples scatter across the surface of the water as Kanata shifts positions and Chiaki loses his train of thought. Kanata is on his hands and knees, the distance between them is lessening, and his breath is catching in his throat. A hand lifts up from the pond to grasp Chiaki’s chin as a chill breeze sweeps across the garden, but Chiaki can feel nothing but warmth spreading across his face, creeping through his veins as he meets Kanata’s eyes.
He doesn’t know how Kanata is keeping his composure with their faces this close. A single motion could make their lips collide and Kanata is searching for permission in Chiaki’s eyes. How kind of him. Chiaki can’t get words out of his mouth so he screams them in his mind, kiss me, do it, and he can only hope Kanata understands all that from his gaze.
The breath that Kanata exhales tickles Chiaki’s lips, and then there’s another pair pressed against them. The kiss lasts for all of two seconds, but Chiaki’s heart throbs in his chest every moment they’re connected. He swears he can hear his blood pulsing in his ears as Kanata draws back, that pleasant warmth still lingering on his skin.
Chiaki feels like he’s short-circuiting. He can tell Kanata is gauging his reaction from the earnest look in his eyes, and for a few seconds Chiaki doesn’t know how to respond, how to react, because what do you do when your first kiss is taken by the boy you’ve loved since you were sixteen? The answer, he decides, is to stare at him for a tender, breathless moment, then lean right back in.
He knows he told Kanata not to grant any of his wishes, but he’s considering this one an exception. A second passes and Chiaki is kissing him again, reaching a hand out to slip up the back of Kanata’s neck and tangle in soft cyan locks. Kanata feels like velvet and tastes like saltwater, and it’s nothing like Chiaki had imagined yet everything he’s ever wanted. His brain is buzzing with a million thoughts and all of them revolve around Shinkai Kanata, whether he should pull him closer, whether he’s enjoying this just as much as he is. Chiaki can only hope he’s fulfilling a wish of Kanata’s as well.
They part with a gasp and Kanata immediately presses their foreheads together, his breath ghosting over Chiaki’s lips. It’s like he can’t bear an inch of distance between them, and Chiaki would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same.
“Chiaki…”
Kanata’s eyes, open and shining in the pale moonlight, are trained on his. Chiaki thinks they’re the loveliest eyes in the world.
“…let’s go home.”
– ☆ –
Chiaki learns that the walk back to the dorms is a lot less scary when his arm is draped around the one who drives his heart crazy. He can feel Kanata shivering, even with the added warmth of his jacket draped around his shoulders. Chiaki wants nothing more than to sweep him up in his arms, just like he did way back in their second year, and run all the way to the warmth of Seisou Hall. But he’s drenched too, and the evening air is sinking into his skin and causing his limbs to ache. Keeping Kanata close to his side will have to do.
They soon arrive and are greeted by an empty lobby, which Chiaki is grateful for. Not that he’s embarrassed to be seen draped over Kanata like this – he does this all the time, it’s nothing out of the ordinary – but instead because he doesn’t want to have to explain why they’re both dripping wet at such a late hour. What time is it anyways?
The elevator dings as the doors part, granting them entrance. Chiaki allows his arm to slip off of Kanata’s shoulders, letting his back settle against the wall and exhaling deeply. Kanata stands before him, hands grasping at the edge of the now slightly damp jacket, tugging it tighter around his body. Their gazes meet, and Kanata offers a smile so sweet that Chiaki is certain if he kissed him, it would taste just as delightful.
There’s no harm in testing that. As soon as the steel doors slide shut he’s grabbing at Kanata’s waist, tugging it to his own. Chiaki’s heart races a mile per minute and the warmth in his chest spreads to his face as Kanata stares at him with those pretty green eyes. His gaze is so innocent yet his lips are just begging to be kissed, and who is he to deny Kanata anything?
Chiaki slots their mouths together with such force that he can feel Kanata’s back arch. Their lips dance, catching each other and pulling apart just as quick, over and over. Chiaki nips gently at his bottom lip in a moment of boldness, savoring the way Kanata gasps into his mouth as he thumbs gently over his hip. He knows he should be shutting his eyes, but he can’t help but keep them open just a bit. He wants to see Kanata, wants to see his cheeks flush, wants to see the way he reacts against his lips, in his arms. This midnight encounter has opened so many doors and Chiaki wants to charge through them all at once.
One more door opens, the one belonging to the elevator, and their little moment of intimacy ends almost as quickly as it began. Chiaki is panting like he ran a marathon rather than kissed his unitmate. Kanata doesn’t seem equally as breathless, lips cherry red from their exchange, but he does look just as content, and that’s what matters in Chiaki’s eyes.
Kanata’s own dorm is just one more floor up, but Chiaki takes his hand and leads him out of the elevator and down the hallway of the second level. Each squeak of their wet shoes against the polished floor makes him cringe, praying that no one decides to open their door to check out the noise. He fumbles for his key, the fabric of his pants pocket sticking together, and quietly ushers Kanata into the room once the door is unlocked.
Flicking the lightswitch on reveals that no one else is home. Otogari is away for the weekend, he knew this, but he’s fairly confident Yuuki is supposed to be here. Maybe he’s out playing games in another dorm or something. The lack of company is welcomed now, as Chiaki shuffles to his dresser, rifling through his clothing to find something suitable for the both of them.
“Here.” A plain red t-shirt and some well worn black sweatpants are tossed in Kanata’s direction, which he catches easily. Chiaki’s voice is unusually soft, despite there being no roommates to worry about waking up. “We’re the same size, so it should fit just fine.”
Kanata nods, then hooks his thumb on his waistband and makes Chiaki’s heart leap into his throat. A strangled sound escapes him, stopping Kanata in his tracks and making him tilt his head in confusion.
“You…you can change in the bathroom, okay? You can use my towel to dry your hair.” He hopes Kanata doesn’t pick up on the nervous waver in his voice, but Kanata’s always been observant, and he’s never been particularly good at hiding his embarrassment. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, only nodding and turning to enter the bathroom.
They’ve changed in front of each other countless times before, and Chiaki knows it shouldn’t make him uncomfortable now. But they’d never made out before any of those other times, he reasons with himself as he slips on his own pajamas, so of course it feels different. Part of him wonders if everything will start to feel different. For every kiss they’ve exchanged tonight there’s a hundred new questions flooding his brain, questions about how Kanata wants to proceed and what these touches mean and whether he deserves the love he’s received.
Questions he’ll have to think about another time, as it’s not long before the bathroom door cracks open. As expected, his clothing fits Kanata nearly perfectly, and although it’s not the first time they’ve shared clothes, it still makes Chiaki’s heart skip a beat. For Ryusei Blue, red looks exceedingly good on him.
He can’t help himself from stealing glances as he gingerly places a spare pillow and blanket on the couch, noticing how Kanata is still wearing his jacket from earlier. “You like that jacket, huh?” he comments, stretching out his arms as he finally sits himself down on his bed.
“It smells like Chiaki,” Kanata states, nuzzling his face into one of the jacket’s sleeves as if to prove his point. “I would like to keep ‘wearing’ it for tonight.”
Chiaki lets out a chuckle, sinking himself down into the warmth of his covers. “Go ahead! I’m glad you like the way I smell.” As soon as the words leave his mouth he cringes. Why’d he say that? Kanata is making his brain do funny things tonight, or maybe it’s just exhaustion. “Lay down and get some rest, alright? We can’t have you catching a cold.”
Kanata seems to be full of surprises this evening. Instead of heading over to the couch, he starts to walk straight toward Chiaki, or more accurately, his bed. The mattress dips as he climbs onto it, and for once the sun freezes over as Chiaki sits and watches Kanata slide his body beneath his covers.
They’re no strangers to sharing a bed. Tight unit funds mean that more often than not, only one hotel room gets booked, and their juniors are adamant in their refusal to sleep beside their loudmouth leader. Chiaki has spent many a night beside Kanata, hair still soaked from a shower and dampening the sheets. But none of those nights had been preluded by a kiss beneath the moonlight, nor did they involve Kanata pressing this close to him. He’s snuggling up against his chest, one arm draped over Chiaki’s waist and green eyes already shut tight. That’s probably for the best, at least the brilliant red hue painting Chiaki’s cheeks will go unnoticed.
Chiaki’s arms hover awkwardly in the air for a moment, unsure of where they should rest. They settle on Kanata’s upper back, hugging him closer, if that’s even possible.
“Goodnight, hero,” Kanata mumbles into his shirt, seemingly overcome with newfound drowsiness. He presses his cheek over his heart and Chiaki is thankful that Kanata is too exhausted to comment on how fast it’s thumping away.
He begins to rub slow, gentle circles into Kanata’s back, petting him like a cat. How cute he looks, all cuddled up against him. “Goodnight, Kanata. Sweet dreams.”
The room falls quiet, the silence only broken by the sound of his hands rubbing against the fabric of Kanata’s jacket. His jacket, technically. But he kind of wants Kanata to never take it off.
Chiaki wants more of this. More of him. He’s spent years wading in Kanata’s waters, he’s ready to dive headfirst into the waves. Romance is a territory he’s never set foot in, but if he’s hand in hand with Kanata, he’s confident they’ll be able to navigate it. Well, they’ll probably get lost a few times, knowing them. But they’ll get lost together.
He has the urge to tell him this, so he takes a gamble.
“Kanata.”
…
No response. Ryusei Blue is off in dreamland, where Ryusei Red really ought to be as well. Chiaki glides his hand up along the back of Kanata’s neck and threads his fingers through his hair, careful not to wake him. They can talk this over in the morning, after they’ve both rested up. Closing his eyes, he concentrates on the feeling of Kanata’s chest rising and falling against his own, slow and steady breaths escaping the lips which had kissed him so sweetly today. This feels nice. Kanata feels nice. It’s a feeling that Chiaki would like more of as well.
Tomorrow morning he will wake up and stutter his way through an explanation of why Kanata is curled up next to him in bed, and he will be met with a kind, knowing smile from Yuuki. But for now, with his face nestled in Kanata’s hair and the ghost of their first kisses on his lips, Chiaki is content, and he lets himself give in to sleep.