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Kohaku’s sat with one leg underneath him in the middle of couch.
“Kohaku-chan,” Rinne calls when he doesn’t look up even after Rinne’s knee bumps into his, ”Pick a side. Yer Rinne-han can’t even sit down next to ya.”
The boy continues to ignore him. “That’s the point,” He replies still without looking up, instead staring into his reflection on his black phone screen, putting on mascara.
Kohaku never wears makeup when he isn’t forced to— most idols don’t when they aren’t on the clock, so it’s not weird. The first time he even held an eyebrow pencil, he tried putting it on with the cap still on. Even now, months after that incident— Rinne never let him live it down— HiMERU still holds his face still by his chin and puts it on him themselves, much to Kohaku’s verbal dismay.
Rinne raises an eyebrow. The sudden change in character getting him hooked on Kohaku and making him his target for today.
“What’re ya doin’? Dollin’ yerself up for yer girlfriend? It’s supposed to be the other way around, silly.”
“Shut up.”
“Do you even know how to put that on? Did Merumeru teach ya? Wait, actually,” Rinne bends down, getting all too close in Kohaku’s personal bubble, “What brand is that? Looks good.” He barks a laugh in his face.
“Can you just go away?” Kohaku spits out, inpatient. “Rabu-han’s gonna be here any second, you’ll creep him out.”
“So you are doin’ it for Ai-chan. I don’t see why though, he sees you without makeup every day. An’ why are ya doin’ it with yer phone, there’s a mirror right there?”
Kohaku sighs, fed up with the pester, and finally puts his phone down, looking up at Rinne’s devilish face.
“You talk an awful lot.”
Rinne smiles, but it’s less of a nice smile and more of a shit-eating one, “Aw, ya look cuter than usual. You should wear makeup more.”
“No way. Not if yer thinkin’ ‘m cute. Go away.” Kohaku scowls.
“C’mon, I’ve barely even said five sentences! Lemme do the rest of it.”
The pink-head send him a look telling him that never in a million years would he ever let him near his face and to leave him alone.
Rinne, of course, does the opposite, squeezing his way on Kohaku’s left and pushing him over with his hips. The boy huffs as he has to use this hand to keep himself up and finally scoots to the opposite side of the couch. He makes a show out of pressing himself as far as he can away from Rinne.
Rinne tries to start again, “Y’know, I really dunno why yer even putting that on-“ It’s like trying to yell at a person with noise-canceling headphones; Kohaku just won’t acknowledge him.
“I don’t care if you don’t know.” He twists the lid back on and sets it down on the coffee table to pick up something else. Strands of hair get in face as he does and he slaps them away.
“Shut yer trap, shorty. I mean ya don’t need to impress him or anythin’.” Rinne shrugs, watching Kohaku take the lid off. It’s liquid eyeliner. Rinne falters a little after seeing it, for a reason he can’t describe.
“He already thinks yer the coolest person to ever exist. Ya don’t see Niki caking on product to get my attention, I’d still love him if he were the ugliest, most repulsive person I’d ever met.”
Kohaku pauses his raising hand and sends an uncharacteristically soft glance to Rinne, “Gross, I don’t care about how much ya love Niki-han, n’ I don’t want advice from you.” The glance turns into another scowl. Really, where is Niki to save him.
“We aren’t y’all; we’re jus’ friends.” He huffs a little again, blinking rapidly after holding his eyes open for so long. He’s trying so hard not to make his eyes water and ruin his work. “An’ Rabu-han can name twenty other people he’d rather spend his time with than me.” He adds with a roll of his slightly red eyes.
Rinne watches the other just continue painting his waterline black like he didn’t just practically stab him in the heart.
“Oh, you-“ When Kohaku pauses to blink again and brings the tip away from his eyes, Rinne lunges forward to push Kohaku’s hand right into his face.
Kohaku gasps and then exclaims, “What the fuck?!”
Without time to react, Kohaku had smeared the jetblack, waterproof eyeliner all over his cheek. “Rinne-han, the makeup! The fuckin’ makeup!”
His head whips around, looking for a tissue before giving up and landing on Rinne. To say he was angry is an understatement, the boy looks at the other completely fuming.
Rinne laughs at his misery, “Ay, if I catch ya sayin’ somethin’ like that again, I’m messin’ up more than just yer makeup n’ cutie face.”
“The hell does that even mean?!” Kohaku unfolds himself to go anywhere that’s away from Rinne, to the bathroom probably. Rinne had expected him to do that, and he’s not about to let his pray go that easily.
“Ugh, you-“
“Kohaku-chaaan! Aira-chan is here!”
Like something out of a comedy skit, Kohaku’s face drops as Rinne’s rises even more. He turns and the pair stare at each other as the sound of Niki and Aira making small talk fills the silence.
“Ya gonna go get him or what?” Rinne smirks.
Kohaku stares at Rinne, looking dumbfounded. “Fuck you.” He breathes.
“Yer lucky this is yer shirt,” and he wipes with his sleeve harshly, enough to turn his pale skin red, at the mark. It does little to help the situation, just blends it into a fine gradient of black on peach on the side of his face.
Rinne holds a fist up to his mouth when Kohaku asks if he got it off and struggles out a, “yep” while throwing him a thumbs up.
Aira taps away at his ankles. There’s no rhythm, really. Just tapping. His back is starting to ache from the hunched over position, and the weight Hiiro is putting on it isn’t helping.
“Ow, I told you not to lean on me. Are you almost done?”
He asked him earlier if he could put his hair up for him. Now that it’s getting longer, it’s been a real hassle. Aira’s thought about cutting it, but the feedback from fans and peers hold him back.
Hiiro had happily agreed— a little too happy. It made Aira a little irritated, his reaction.
“Yes, Aira.” Hiiro pulls tight on the two pieces of hair he’d separated in the ponytail. “This tie doesn’t seem to be tight enough, though. I may have to re-do it.”
So that’s how they’ve ended up on Hiiro’s dorm floor with hair ties and brushes strewn around them. Aira doesn’t know why they didn’t just sit on the bed.
“Seriously? I should’ve just got Mayo-san to do it. Hurry up, I have to leave soon.” He probably doesn’t, he doesn’t even know what time it is. But he does know Hiiro’s been at his hair long enough and it would be absolutely terrible if he were late.
Hiiro hums in response, knowing that through his words, he still picked him, and still will next time. They fall back into silence after that. The blond finds his eyes closing from the gentleness of Hiiro’s touch and the warmth radiating off of him. He hums his own hum at nothing in particular. Hiiro’s always been amazingly good at making Aira so at peace and vulnerable even when he’s not trying.
As he cards his fingers through his hair, Aira loses track of time even more. It could’ve been ten minutes or two hours and he wouldn’t know the difference. He chalks it down to his excitement for his and Kohaku’s hangout.
“Ok. Done.” Hiiro announces after some time, sitting back on his feet behind Aira.
He observes his handy work while Aira stretches before gasping the tiniest bit, “Oh, wait. I forgot something. One moment.” Aira is lightly pushed back into the same uncomfortable position by Hiiro.
He doesn’t have time for whatever Hiiro forgot— he needs to go. “No, stop. Get-“ Aira slaps his hands away from his head, “Stop, I wanna see.”
It feels done enough to him, there’s nothing he could think Hiiro needs to add, except maybe hair pins to hold the short pieces back, but they aren’t necessarily needed. It’d be cute for next time, he adds to the back of his mind.
“It isn’t done. It’ll look bad.” Hiiro argues with no aggression.
Despite him trying again to reach for his hair, Aira shoots up from the carpet. He guesses he’ll let Hiiro have the last word.
The mirror of the dorm is just on the other side of his bed and Aira wobbles on his way there from sitting for so long. As his reflection comes into view, he pauses.
Whipping around, he hisses at the boy, “Hiro-kun! What is this?!” Displeasure is evident on his face.
Hiiro’s sat up on his knees up against the bed with his head resting on his folded arms to watch Aira’s reaction.
“What do you mean, Aira?” He replies with a tilt of his head and a glint in his eyes— like he’s innocent.
Aira throws his hands up, “No, what do you mean?! What did you do?!“ Aira runs up to the mirror and touches his hair cautiously like it’ll burn him.
“What time is it, oh my goodness.” He stomps back around to the side of the bed where Hiiro is. The dorm below them will definitely be filing a complaint.
“Um,” Hiiro looks down to turn on his phone and replies, “Just past 12. I haven’t been paying attention, I was too busy playing with Aira’s soft hair. Sorry.” It’s said with much regret and hurt, like he truly didn’t mean to take that long and was sincerely distracted by him.
Aira doesn’t even give Hiiro the grace of pausing to look at him like he just spoke morally-banned words, just paces around like it’s the end of the world and he’s just been informed.
“Oh my goodness, I have to go. Like, right now.” Eventually, he finds himself back in front of the mirror, staring at himself like he’s some freak on the side of the road.
Somehow, Hiiro had gotten Aira’s hair into what looks like two, very messy, half french braids that turn into pigtails at the tops of his ears. He doubts Hiiro even knows what a french braid is, probably just saw it somewhere and tried to imitate it. The pigtails don’t even go down like normal pigtails should, just stick out like unnatural antennas. In the braids, if you can even call them that, the hair that’s too short looks like pointy needles. It’s atrocious . He can’t go over to Kohaku’s house looking like this.
“Where did you even get this idea?! Who told you it would be good?!”
Hiiro smiles. He smiles. Aira’s gonna punch him.
“Well, it’s a long story, but Nii-san tried to do it on HiMERU-san, and I thought it would work on you since it didn’t for HiMERU-san.” He explains, still with upturned lips.
“What do you mean it didn’t- y’know what, I don’t care. I need to go and I look like a circus show! What’ll Kohakucchi think?!”
Aira’s back to stressing about. He resists the urge to slap Hiiro or slap himself or do anything violent. His next best choice is snapping at his nails.
“Well, he’ll think you’re cute.”
Aira pauses to gape at the boy, doesn’t even respond for a few good moments.
“Not looking like this, he’s not!! Are you freaking serious?!”
Hiiro nods. “I am.”
“You- Ok- no. No. I have to leave. Right now.” He can fix his hair on the way there and ignore the weird stares from everyone in ES. His phone and bag are snatched up rather aggressively and fast, and he hopes he hasn’t forgotten anything.
Hiiro watches him slide his shoes on and not tie them properly, whispering a “don’t trip, that’s dangerous,” and earning a “shut up, Hiro-kun.”
He’s polite enough to tell Hiiro bye and thank him for letting him over before he sprints down the halls. Yeah, Hiiro’s definitely getting a complaint. He’ll have to apologize later.
Niki gasps and puts his protein bar down when he sees Aira standing in the open door. “Your hair,” he points, “It looks different.”
Aira’s eyes widen, “Is it bad? Does it look too bad? Hiro-kun completely messed it up, I had to fix it on the way here.” And fix it on the way there he did (tried to). He ripped out at least ten dozen strands trying to get the excessively tight ties out. The braids didn’t come out easy either, leaving nasty knots all in his hair.
“Looks fine.” Niki shrugs between bites. “Kohaku-chan’s in the living room with Rinne-kun, I think.” He tosses the wrapper into the trashcan at the edge of the kitchen and turns to call out, “Kohaku-chaaan! Aira-chan is here!”
Niki invites him in, but they stay by the door to wait for the called boy. Aira fiddles with his sleeve, occasionally swatting and patting at his hair, trying to fix it. Hiiro’s probably permanently messed it up and now he can’t continue being an idol because of his stupid hair and his stupid friend. Ugh, he swears he’ll kill him later.
“So,” Niki eyes Aira. He thinks he’s about to say something about his hair and combs at it once more, smiling nervously. But, no, Niki leans on a counter, “you two are hanging out here? Why? The dorms too embarrassing?”
The questions catch him off guard. “Embarrassing?” He echos. “Err, no. Kohakucchi just suggested it the other day. No real reason.” Aira shrugs.
Niki nods along, “Aw, that’s cute.” The man reaches into his pocket to pull out another bar, “I think he just wanted to have you at his house.” He smiles. “Not so cute when Rinne-kun is here, though.”
Aira giggles at Niki’s prejudice against Rinne and nods.
“Speaking of,” Niki turns and skips to the corner of the kitchen to hang off it, “Kohaku-chan! You’re being rude, leaving your guest by the-“ He pauses and jerks back like Kohaku was right in front of him. “Um. Kohaku-chan?” He questions, sounding caught off-guard
With the way the apartment’s set up, Aira can’t see what Niki is looking at. His first thought is that Kohaku isn’t even there. He sneaks his way up behind the man on his tiptoes.
Rinne’s muffled laughing is very evident in the small room, he suddenly notices.
“Kohaku-chan, you got a little something…” Niki trails off and points to his cheek.
Even peeking around the long-haired man, Aira still can’t see, so he steps to the side of Niki, fully in the living room. He looks like a child hiding behind their parent when meeting new people.
When Kohaku and Aira make eye contact, they both slap a hand over their mouth: Aira because Oukawa Kohaku has makeup on and he think the world might seriously be ending in an hour, and Kohaku because Aira’s messy, in-his-face hair is something he was not expecting to see. (And something he’s not disappointed to see, either.)
Rinne gives up on trying to stay quiet and fully barks out a laugh, gasping for air.
“Ai-chan, the fuck happened to yer hair?”
Aira blushes behind his hand, embarrassed. Clearly he hadn’t fixed it good enough. Was Niki setting him up for failure, lying to him like that?
“No,” Niki answers for him, “I should be asking what happened to Kohaku-chan’s face!” A smile blooms on his features as he speaks, staring at the youngest.
Kohaku turns pink as well, “Niki-han, Rinne-han made me mess up my makeup.” He snitches, looking up at Niki with crossed arms. He’s trying to put on an act that isn’t working. Niki’s smile bothers him, but he’s his last hope.
“Why are you doing your makeup? Did HiMERU-kun finally get to you? What’d they do to you?” Niki’s shoulders slump, like he’s truly disappointed this boy just put on makeup. Aira almost laughs before remembering the position he’s in.
“Well, why is Ai-chan doin’ his hair?”
Both the boys give their own uncomfortable faces at being called out. Aira combs at his hair erratically with his other hand, getting frustrated. Seriously, what did Hiiro do?
When they’re obviously not going to get anywhere just standing there and making fun of the two teens, Kohaku groans and pushes past Rinne and Niki, passing Aira to go to the bathroom.
“Sorry, Rabu-han. Lemme get this off real quick.” Despite the soft way he talked to Aira, he slams the bathroom door, earning a shout from Niki.
Aira forgot how much he hated the Amagi brothers. He moves back from the middle of the living room to the wall, standing awkwardly as he Rinne and Niki talk.
Rinne says something about him and Niki being as cutely in love as they are, and Niki shoots that it’s because he’s Rinne-kun and “he can never be cute.”
Rinne gasps and shoots up, striding up to Niki to make him pay for what he said. Niki very wisely takes cover in the kitchen, seeing what’s coming. Aira steps out of his way.
As he’s standing there, watching Rinne bother Niki and hearing the sound of running water and carding through his hair, he huffs. Heat is still prominent on his cheeks, and he decides to alter from fixing his hair to fanning his face. How long is Kohakucchi gonna take…
Though, it isn’t as bad as he’s making it out to be, he guesses. He still gets to hangout with Kohaku, at his house— every time he thinks about that fact, he gets a little hot. Sure, his hair looks ridiculously silly, but he isn’t the only one with an unfortunate appearance. Kohaku looked just as stupid as Aira did, probably felt as stupid too. And above all, he gets to see Kohaku with makeup. He almost squeals out loud at the thought.
He’ll have to text Hiiro an apology later and thank him for at least attempting to do his hair.