"Ugh, I'm so stiff."
It was evening and Izuminokami Kanesada's room was a mess. It looked as if his wardrobe had simply exploded, knocking over everything else he owned in the process. The youth himself was sitting on the floor – on top of some of the mess – and rolling his shoulder with a wince.
"Old men get stiff, Kane-san. I thought you were cooler than that?"
"Hey!"
Horikawa Kunihiro laughed brightly even in the face of Kanesada's glare, and continued trying to make some semblance of order out of the mess in the room. Honestly, he tidied this room more than he did his own. True, he spent more time here than he did there but still...
"You don't need to do that, you know. I'll do it later."
"No you won't."
It had always been this way. Horikawa would tidy, Kanesada would make half-hearted attempts to stop him and life would go on. When they had been younger and had made sense; Horikawa was older after all. But later, when Kanesada stopped being a tearful little boy with arms and legs too long for him and had become a tall, toned - tearful - young man it had stayed the same. They didn't really talk about it, even though others did. Horikawa preferred it that way. What were best friends for after all?
"Jeez, my arms really hurt," Kanesada was still complaining, stretching them high above his head and causing the edges of his oversized blue summer jacket to fan out like a cape. "Did you have to go so hard on me, Kunihiro?"
"You just need to work harder Kane-san," the smaller youth said with an unflinching smile. "I bet the others aren't complaining as much as you."
"I don't know," Kanesada snickered, dropping his arms to cross them smugly over his broad chest. "I chipped Kashuu's nail polish."
"Poor Yamatonokami. You should apologise tomorrow."
"Eh, what for? We were fighting. Injuries are bound to happen!"
Folding a pile of red and blue shirts away into a drawer, – did he even own any other colours? Honestly. - Horikawa shook his head.
"Practising. Not fighting. And a chipped nail is hardly an injury."
"But-"
"And neither is aching arms."
"You're being really mean today."
If being mean meant tidying the other's room, straightening the bed sheets, sorting his notes and workbooks back into a neat pile and then searching for a hairbrush then Horikawa could stand being a little meaner. He hummed happily to himself as he worked, half-listening to Kanesada complaining from where he had flopped on the floor.
It all started when they decided to take up kendo again.
They had tried out all sorts of hobbies over the years, sticking with some and completely abandoning others. Horikawa had kept up cooking as a hobby – much to Kanesada's delight – whereas the younger had persisted in writing old fashioned haikus – to Horikawa's quiet despair. Kendo was different, somehow. No matter how many times they gave it up they always seemed to come back to it, and always at around the same time that Yamatonokami and Kashuu expressed renewed interest as well.
It was, well, a little bit strange, if Horikawa was honest. Like so many things involving the other three, Kanesada in particular, it just felt right. If it wasn't so enjoyable he would have questioned it more. Surely it wasn't normal for them all to work so well together, or against one another, when they hadn't even practised for years? And that wasn't even getting started on the altogether weird things they would shout at each other in the heat of the moment, battle cries he had never even heard before.
Despite all that, he enjoyed it. He'd never seen any reason in bringing up his worries and ruining it for everyone. They'd probably just laugh it off, anyway. It was one of the reasons he loved hanging around with them so much. True, Kanesada had a temper, Kashuu had his pride and Yamatonokami could be so obvious but they were all cheerful for the most part. That, too, felt like how it was supposed to be.
"Oi, Kunihiro. You're spacing out again."
"Sorry, Kane-san."
Across the room, the taller youth's eyes were narrowed. Horikawa knew this look of his well enough; it was a sort of false anger he displayed when concerned about someone else. The 'cool' way of being worried.
It didn't look very cool but the slight hint of sternness in the others eyes was commanding regardless. It always brought Horikawa back to earth at least.
"What were you thinking about?"
"Ah, you know me," he smiled. "Just planning ahead."
"Hm."
Kanesada wasn't buying it. Horikawa opted for the easy way out.
"Should I fix your hair?"
"If you want."
Another attempt to be cool that they both knew meant 'yes'. When it came to Kanesada's hair there was only one expert, and it definitely wasn't Kanesada himself. If it hadn't been for Horikawa making sure he took care of it - even if that had sometimes meant washing it himself - then he would have been forced to cut it a long time ago. As it was, he said that he wouldn't feel like himself without his hair. Horikawa agreed. It just...worked.
It shouldn't have, especially now that he was so tall and so broad-chested, but it did. He looked like some sort of old time hero, swinging the sword at kendo or joining Horikawa for a morning jog.
That image worked, too. Another one of those strange things that he wouldn't bring up.
"Earth to Kunihiro."
"Receiving loud and clear, Kane-san."
"You were totally spacing out again."
"Sorry."
"Don't go flying away or anything all right?"
Taking the brush from where he had tidily stored it away, Horikawa dropped to his knees behind Kanesada and began working it through the lengths of his hair.
"Everyone knows you're more likely to do that, Kane-san."
"Don't be rude."
They were both smiling and so anything Kanesada could say was okay by Horikawa. And brushing his hair was just so nice, as soothing as if he was the one being looked after. Kanesada had such thick, soft hair that people often accused him of it not being real. Working the brush tenderly through first the ends, tangled from running around at kendo, and then the rest, Horikawa let his mind wander again. It was easy when he was doing this, always had been. Invariably it made him think of lamplight, tatami mats, cicadas. Once he had finished brushing he worked the hair into a long braid, securing it with a red hair tie and wondering, not for the first time, why he didn't tie it with a ribbon.
Everything about looking after Kanesada made him feel strange, strangely right, as if nothing else in the world made sense. He worried about it when they were apart. But not now, not like this. Not when he was so happy just sitting quietly.
"Thanks, Kunihiro."
And, as usual, Kanesada ruffled his hair as if their ages were reversed. That felt right as well, however much the other two laughed about it. As he lowered his hand from Horikawa's head, Kanesada winced.
"It's not even funny how sore I am..." he grumbled, rubbing at his shoulders. "Do you think a shower would help?"
"I can help."
Horikawa answered with such certainty that it took him a moment to realise that he was the one speaking.
"Can you?"
Can I?
"Of course! Anything for Kane-san."
His hair having been tied out of the way, Kanesada's awkward blush was visible. As always he tried to wear it without shame.
"Well, show me then."
Horikawa, despite not having a clue what he was doing, proceeded to do just that.
He had never even been given a back rub, or a shoulder massage, or whatever it was that he was giving. He had briefly taken up yoga and he was pretty sure that this had nothing to do with that. Logic dictated that he didn't have a clue.
He concluded that his hands were moving in their own.
His fingers seemed to know just where to press, where to push, the best places to balance his palms. They knew the planes and curves of Kanesada's shoulders, his back, his upper arms. Horikawa was concentrating so much on why this was working that it was going on without him.
"God, Kunihiro..."
And it was definitely working. Horikawa peered over Kanesada's shoulder, over his rogue masseuse hands, and saw that the other had let his head fall forwards, his eyes closed.
"That feels really good," he murmured.
It was downright indecent. Horikawa couldn't quite nail down why but it was and he hadn't asked for this. He felt tense all over. All over.
This isn't fair, Kane-san.
"All done," he announced, injecting perhaps too much cheer into his voice. "Did it help?"
"Damn right it did."
Kanesada was practically growling. Horikawa considered just jumping out of the window, just to smooth things over.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Kanesada was asking, getting to his feet and prompting Horikawa to do the same.
"I didn't?" Horikawa said uncertainly. "I guess it's just not as hard as it looks."
"Huh."
Kanesada stretched his arms high above his head, sighing in pleasure. Horikawa watched the muscles he had just been kneading at work and wondered if he was drunk on air or if he had just gone mad.
Stop thinking about his muscles, he commanded himself. It's not healthy. And he would probably hate it.
He certainly didn't hate having his shoulders looked after and gave Horikawa a bonus hair ruffle before suggesting they go grab some lunch.
Doing that once was probably fine, Horikawa decided as they headed out and he carefully avoided looking at anything but Kanesada's face. No harm done.
A few weeks later and this optimism was wavering.
It had been a weird month. Not just because of his apparent skill at massaging shoulders - although that was a large part of it - but because he had spent most of the time feeling like he was living in a dream.
He had known Kanesada for basically his whole life. He had looked out for the kid in school, dried his tears when he had found out that Santa wasn't real, patched him up when they first got into fights - because if Kanesada's temper got him into a punch up then Horikawa would be right behind him - and even spent a year after high school 'travelling' so that they could go to college together. Travelling mostly between their houses but that was besides the point. All of their friends knew that you couldn't have one without the other and Horikawa had always been happy with that.
The last few weeks had felt different. They were as inseparable as ever, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Horikawa was starting to feel like maybe he didn't understand their relationship at all but that there was something he was forgetting. It was as if giving him the stupid mystical shoulder rub had broken a part of his brain.
He had become emotional over Kanesada's newest haiku, for a start. It was bad. It was always bad. But he had felt sweetly sad when hearing it, the same way he felt when reading old notes they had written in childhood. He had almost known each mora as it came.
Then there was kendo. They were both good, all four of them were when it came to it, but their teamwork had never been quite so on point. Horikawa hadn't even needed to think about where he was placing his feet to be in just the right place at the right time. That had made him emotional too.
These reactions were...strange but something he could deal with, if he put his mind to it. They were best friends so it was fine to be moved, wasn't it?
He was pretty sure that the way he had been looking at Kanesada the whole time wasn't.
If he had been given a coin for every time he had thought about Kanesada's muscles he would have earned enough to buy himself therapy to get over it. Horikawa was pretty mature when it came to things like this; if he found someone attractive he would accept it calmly, regardless of who they were or what they looked like. And yes, he was a young man with a healthy body so these thoughts were bound t happen and that was totally fine.
But about Kanesada?
He would be the first person to explain to others how handsome and cool his friend was, would have been the best wingman ever if Kanesada himself hadn't been so awkward. But that was objective, or so he had thought. Waking up in a sweat because of a dream he was definitely not comfortable exploring in all its glorious detail was definitely not objective.
So, he liked Kanesada's body. Well then. It was magnificent, after all, and all the result of hard work however much Kashuu enviously accused him of chugging protein shakes. From this standpoint, it was fine to lust after it. Wanting alone wouldn't do any harm, if he kept quiet about it. Besides, no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was wrong, it felt right to do so, just like crying over bad haikus and brushing his hair. It felt normal right up until Horikawa tried to understand it.
It was probably wrong to think such things about his best friend, the kid he'd known since forever. He was convinced that if he told himself that enough then this strange phase of his would pass.
Things would have been easier if Kanesada hadn't really liked shoulder rubs and begun not-quite demanding them after every kendo session. Horikawa found it impossible to say no.
"Kunihiro, I'm dropping out of college to pursue poetry."
"You can write haikus on the side, Kane-san."
"Are you actually listening to me or was that a reflex?"
That afternoon in particular, it was the latter. Horikawa pulled his mind out of the dark places it had been wandering and shook his head.
"I'm listening. What is it?"
"I've forgotten now," he grumbled. "You were spacing out for too long."
"All right then."
They were sat on the floor, as usual, and the room was incredibly warm. Kanesada had insisted on having a shower after kendo which meant that drying his hair had taken what felt like ten years. Ten pleasant years but the hair dryer had left the room warm and too comfortable. Later, Horikawa would blame that for the question he asked next.
"Can you take your shirt off, Kane-san?"
His voice, much like his hands, seemed to be acting on muscle memory that it was making up as it went along.
"Eh? Why?"
"It should make it easier," he said, wondering if that was true and, if it was, why he knew. "If that's okay."
Shrugging, Kanesada pulled his tastefully patterned shirt - designer, for all his teasing of Kashuu's shopping habits - up and over his head. Horikawa instantly regretted his decision.
Underneath, Kanesada was wearing one of the skin tight black tank tops he had become taken with out of the blue in the last few weeks. It was, against all reason, more indecent than if he had been naked. Horikawa knew he was staring because as Kanesada turned to look back at him in question, he had a perfect view of a tightly toned stomach and chest apparently trying to burst through the damned shirt. How was it comfortable, if it was that tight? And why wear something like that under something super loose?
Why was he even thinking about this?
Please forgive me, Kane-san.
"Is this all right or should I take this off too?"
"It's fine, it's fine!"
He set to work. It was easier than having to think. The problem with not thinking was that it left him more brainpower with which to feel.
He could feel how warm Kanesada's skin was, even through the shirt, almost burning when he touched bare skin. He could feel how soft it was too, could tell that he'd been moisturising as Horikawa had suggested even if he'd never admit it. Worse, he could feel a low groan through Kanesada's back as the other leaned his head forwards, hair falling to cover his features. It seemed to ripple through Horikawas hands and up his arms where it settled, trembling, in his own chest.
This wasn't good at all. It had been a long time since he'd been this affected by anyone. Had he ever felt like this before? He couldn't recall and that was worrying too.
This was going to have to be the last time he did this. He wasn't sure he would be able to stay sane if it wasn't.
"Ah, Kunihiro..."
It was easier when he didn't talk.
"Is this really okay for you?"
That was it. The concern for his well-being, even though he always offered. The hint of shyness. It was kind, and cute, and his voice was husky and really he could never do this again.
"Sure," he found himself saying, touching his fingertips to the back of Kanesada's neck before pulling away.
Horikawa thought he saw the other shiver but that was impossible. Kanesada had no idea of the strange places his thoughts had been venturing. If he had he would have said something. His blunt honesty was one of the many things Horikawa loved about him. That and his mischievous sense of humour, and his good Samaritan heart, and his mile-wide competitive streak, and the way he would talk softly when he was relaxed, and maybe it wasn't just his body that had been setting Horikawa on edge but maybe it was-
"Kunihiro."
Gone. He felt as if he had been close to something, something important, and simple, and forgotten. He knew he looked as dazed as he felt because Kanesada was staring at him in suspicion.
"You've been spacing out a lot recently, you know?"
"Yes, I know. Sorry, Kane-san."
"Is everything okay?"
It was hopeless. Horikawa shrugged and put on his bravest smile.
"I hope so. Please don't worry about me."
"Tch. Stay there."
He could do nothing but sit still and frown in confusion as Kanesada got to his feet, moved behind him and then sat back down on the floor. Horikawa turned to see a wide smile on the other's face.
"Uh, Kane-san? What are you doing?"
"We're switching. I keep feeling like... ah, how do I put this..."
Horikawa watched as Kanesada visibly struggled to put words together in his mind. He folded his arms over his chest and was silent a moment before giving a nod.
"Right," he decided. "I keep feeling like there's something I should be doing to say thank you for everything you do for me."
"You don't have to, you-"
"Oi, let me finish. It's been bugging me for ages, you know? It's such a pain. I know there's something I'm forgetting to do but I don't know if I ever knew what it is. Was. I don't know. It sounds stupid when I put it like that..."
"No, I think I get it," Horikawa said quietly, still feeling dazed. "I get that feeling too."
"D'you think we both hit our heads when we were kids?"
The expression on Kanesada's face is so serious that Horikawa can't help but laugh.
"Maybe. You probably hit yours harder, then."
"Shut up! Look, do you want me to do the shoulder thing for you or not?"
The shoulder thing.
Well then.
Maybe this would take some of the weirdness away?
"Only if that's what you want to do," Horikawa said uncertainly. "I'm happy enough just looking after you, Kane-san, so-"
"Right, so we're doing this, end of discussion."
There was a moment of silence during which they stared at each other in mutual confusion. Kanesada broke it loudly.
"Do you take your shirt off or what?"
"Ah, no?"
"But you said it makes it easier."
Horikawa knew he only had himself to blame. So much for this making things less weird.
"Fine, fine."
He kept his eyes on the wall in front of him while unbuttoning his shirt, making sure to fold it himself before placing it down in the knowledge that Kanesada would have just scrunched it up.
"All right, I'm ready."
"Any, uh, tips?"
Have magical hands that know what they're doing, he didn't say.
"Not really. If I can do it, I'm sure you'll be great at it."
And, really, he did believe that. He felt a little nervous as Kanesada placed his hands on his shoulders, cautiously optimistic but also deeply worried that the weird was going to come back and he would be forced to get everything back in order. Kanesada cried if he lost a shirt for more than a week. There was no way he would be able to handle what Horikawa had been feeling gracefully.
Kane-san has really warm hands, he thought.
This was the last nice thought he managed before an unholy brand of torture was unleashed upon his upper back.
He was pretty sure nails weren't meant to come into it. And since when had he had a bone there and why did it hurt so much? Well, other than the way Kanesada wasn't just kneading his muscles but going at them as if he was using a washing board to try and remove wine stains. His hands were warm, and soft, but were also seemingly made of rocks.
"Oh," he breathed, wincing. "Kane-san, you-"
"Is that good?"
"It's n-not not good, it's-"
Something went crack and that was the last straw. Horikawa fell forwards onto the carpet, struggling to breathe first with pain and then with laughter as the sheer ridiculousness of this whole situation began sinking in. Things might have felt strange and yes he may have been dreaming about sleeping with his best friend – in a strangely antiquated bedroom of all things – and okay so maybe he had been hoping that getting a shoulder massage would have been a little more sexy than this but ultimately, everything was going to be okay.
Kanesada was still the same, whatever else was going on. A good-hearted, over the top, adorable idiot.
"Oi, Kunihiro, did I kill you? Please tell me I didn't kill you. Did I break a rib? Are you-"
"Fine!" he gasped, forehead pressed to the floor. "I'm fine!"
It took considerable effort to sit up again and he was aided by firm and thankfully not painful hands on his shoulders. He was turned to face Kanesada, who was red-cheeked in embarrassment and wide-eyed with worry.
"I'm so sorry," he was mumbling, averting his eyes to the floor. "You said it was easy, so..."
"It's fine!" Horikawa managed to stop laughing long enough to shoot Kanesada a peace sign. "I guess I'm just a natural?"
"Damnit, Kunihiro."
Laughing again, Horikawa gave a rather painful shrug.
"I'm really grateful that you tried to do that for me. It's the thought that counts, isn't it?"
This was when, breathless from laughter and feeling happier than he had in weeks, things turned strange again.
Just like his hands had moved on their own when he first touched Kanesada's shoulders, the same way he had given answers he hadn't realised he knew, he moved as if he had done this a hundred times before, without thought, without hesitation. He leaned up and placed a hand on Kanesada's cheek and will still smiling as he pressed his lips to the flushed skin there before moving his mouth close to the other's ear.
"Thank you, Kane-san," he said quietly.
As soon as the words left his lips, Horikawa froze. Terror hacked through the warm daze that had clouded his mind without giving him a chance to reconsider.
Oh god.
What had he done? Why had he done it? They were close, sure, but not cheek-kissing close. Would Kanesada hate him now? Was this what he would call too far? What if he became distant? What if he got angry? If they couldn't carry on being this close, what was Horikawa going to do? He couldn't function by himself. He had no place other than at Kanesada's side. If they weren't together, if there was no we then who was he?
"I'm sorry!"
He scooted backwards as quickly as he could, pressing his face back into the carpet and his palms flat either side of his head.
"Please forgive me, Kane-san! I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe I'm tired. Things really aren't okay at the moment so-"
"Oi, Kunihiro."
Kanesada's voice was low but firm, effectively stopping Horikawa in his tracks. He fell silent, heart pounding in his chest.
"Look at me, will you?"
Like any order, Horikawa couldn't bring himself to disobey. Kanesada was staring at him with his blue eyes wide. He seemed as lost as a ship in the open sea. Another apology died on Horikawa's lips as Kanesada leaned forwards, mimicking Horikawa's own actions, and kissed his cheek. Kanesada always being Kanesada he missed the mark, pressing his lips to the corner of Horikawa's mouth instead.
"Have we done this before?" he murmured, lips close to Horikawa's ear and voice just as nervous.
"I...don't think so."
"It feels like we have, though."
"Mm. Yes."
"I think this is... what I had been thinking of. As a thank you."
"Oh."
"You worked it out for me."
"I did?"
"What's that all about, Kunihiro?"
He didn't know. It was strange, and nostalgic, and terrifying, and like coming home. He could do nothing but shake his head.
"I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Silence, Horikawa fancied he could hear both of their hearts beating. After a time, Kanesada reached up and tousled his hair, more gently than usual, but the familiar action helped. Horikawa felt rather than heard him sigh and then he was standing up and moving away.
"Kane-san? Where are you-"
"Shower."
"Eh? You just had one."
"It helps me think, okay!"
Oh.
"I can leave if you want."
"Don't you dare! Wait for me."
The bathroom door slammed shut and Horikawa could hear what sounded remarkably like a facepalm.
Now that the terror was subsiding, Horikawa realised that he could do one of any number of things. He could leave and run away from the strange, right, feelings. He could open the bathroom door and demand they talk it out, which would probably make Kanesada cry if he was that embarrassed. Or...
Or he could do as he had been told, by the only person he ever let tell him to do anything, and wait.
Somehow he felt as if he had been waiting a long time. Ten minutes more wouldn't hurt.
He filled the time with trying to work out the kinks that Kanesada had managed to rub into his shoulders. That, like a lot of other things, was something they were going to have to work on.