When Yokozawa's phone buzzed with Masamune's casual "drinks saturday?" his first reaction was to text back an immediate, crushing, no.
Maybe followed by a what the fuck?
His frown deepened as his fingers twitched, wanting to do just that. There was no way he still loved Masamune like he had before, but he'd be lying if he said that his chest didn't twinge painfully every time he saw him around, and that being alone with him wasn't too soon.
Still, that was no excuse to act absolutely childishly about whole affair. Especially since Masamune had taken it upon himself to be the bigger person. It was only Yokozawa's responsibility to respond in kind, since the whole messed-up situation had been his fault in the first place.
Just the fact that Masamune had gone out of his way to make the first move towards salvaging their raging trainwreck of a relationship was, Yokozawa knew, his own, wordless way of saying I still care about you.
"Just what part of give me time does he not understand…" he muttered to himself as he contemplated his options.
Idealistic notions as he might entertain, the truth was that things were more awkward than anything else between them right now. The tension between them hadn't been helped one bit by Masamune walking in on him with his hands literally down Kirishima's pants.
Shit, his cheeks still burned in shame at the memory as he let out a quiet groan. He was never going to let him live that one down. He knew it was all the more reason to refuse him, but it wasn't like Masamune was any stranger to the desires of the flesh.
And it wasn't like he could lie to him, either. They'd always had an unspoken contract to answer honestly whenever interrogated by the other about their love lives.
Unbidden, the memory flashed across his mind.
"Of all people, why Onodera?"
"Because I love him."
His blazing eyes had delivered the message with more finality than any words ever could.
His train of thought was saved from taking a running leap into the gutter by the appearance of Henmi, who came bursting into his cubicle after a hurried knock. Yokozawa seized the opportunity to put off replying to the troublesome text, shoving his phone into his briefcase as he shot Henmi a questioning look.
"Yokozawa-san, you'll never guess the news I have for you!"
"Huh?" Yokozawa said, thrown off for a moment by Henmi's face, flushed with exertion and excitement. He'd obviously run all the way here. Whatever the news was, it had to be pretty important for him to get this worked up over it. Then again, he was a pretty excitable sort. Yokozawa couldn't deny his curiosity.
"Let's have it, then."
"You're going to be on the Board for the Diamond Heart anime!"
"Huh?" Ichinose Erika's bestselling manga was something he was familiar with, of course, having worked with pretty much every manga the shojo department churned out. However, having someone from Sales on the Editorial Board was unheard of. The anime editors were, as far as anyone in Manga was concerned, from another dimension altogether. "Just where did you hear this from?"
"Isaka-san told me to tell you when I bumped into him in the hallway earlier today. Apparently it's all very hush-hush for now, but Ichinose-sensei put in a personal request that all the manga departments be involved with the creation of the anime."
He could see how it was a clever sales strategy, of course. Working with the people who actually dealt with the story at its most basic level and understood the existing demographics was sure to put out an anime with mass appeal, but- "Hold on a second. All departments?"
"Yep!" Henmi chirped happily. "But I wasn't surprised at all when he told me. If it's anyone from Sales, it has to be you, Yokozawa-san! Do us proud!"
Yokozawa's stomach was churning, and for a reason very different from excitement.
All the departments necessarily included the editorial department. And the person in charge of Ichinose Erika's book was…
"Masamune!" he barked into his phone as soon as he set out on his daily rounds. "Just when the fuck were you planning on telling me that we're on the Board for Diamond Heart?"
"When it becomes my responsibility to make sure your calendar is up to date," Masamune drawled at the other end of the line.
"Well, I do apologize for not keeping up," he snarked back. A warm feeling settled in his chest as he felt them slipping back into their old, familiar banter. Maybe they could do this after all, although holding a conversation over the phone was completely different from doing it face-to-face.
"You wouldn't feel the need to bitch at me over the phone if you'd deign to reply to my mail," Masamune said, tone dipping at the end.
"...…!" Yokozawa had not expected him to bring it up casually. Still, with that catch in his voice…
"Kounoiz. Later." Masamune's voice sounded over the phone, and, with that, he hung up.
Yokozawa let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Just like that, he was meeting him for drinks.
Things were bewilderingly simple for the two of them sometimes.
Yokozawa switched into business mode as he walked into Books Marimo, smoothing a hand through his hair which had been considerably rumpled by the autumn wind. Being around books always filled him with a sense of peace. He called out a greeting as Yukina Kou, the salesman for the shojo section, rushed over to talk to him after spotting him.
"Good afternoon, Yokozawa-san! Marukawa Shoten's manga are flying off the shelves as usual."
Yokozawa nodded. "It's all thanks to you."
And it was true. Yukina's handsome features and charming demeanor played an admittedly huge part in attracting the store's overwhelmingly female clientele.
He looked embarrassed as he waved off the compliment with a "Oh, it's not really a big deal. I only recommend the titles I personally like to my customers."
A little bit of modesty didn't hurt his appeal, either.
"Speaking of, how has the reception for Ichinose-sensei's Diamond Heart 4 been?" Yokozawa had come here with a specific purpose in mind. Since his first Editorial Board meeting was scheduled for the next day, he waned to spend the day gathering information about the readers' opinions on the manga.
Yukina's face lit up.
"Ichinose-sensei never disappoints! We're all sold out for the second time this month."
Yokozawa felt a surge of pride. Every book he'd handled had a personal significance to him, although he didn't actually get the time to read most of them.
"Would an anime adaptation of it be something you would watch?" he ventured. He wanted to get an honest opinion, without revealing too much.
Yukina hesitated.
"This might be presumptuous of me to say, but… I don't really think that a plot so intricate would be something I'd have the patience to watch. I know most of my friends prefer to confine the heavy subject matter to reading."
"A-ah. I see. Thanks for the insight," Yokozawa said. Although he tended to gravitate towards more serious subject matter, it would make sense that a younger fanbase would prefer something more lighthearted and simple. This was something he'd have to bring up at the meeting tomorrow. "I'll be taking my leave now. Thank you for your hard work."
"Oh, it was no trouble at all! Your visits show how seriously you take your job." Yukina said as the sliding doors ushered Yokozawa out.
His feet mechanically traced the familiar path to Marukawa as his body followed, mind buried in thought. It was only when he came to a halt before the steps leading up to the building that he remembered that he'd finished his work for the day before heading out.
"Shit…" he cursed under his breath as he made to walk back to the station. Suddenly, a call of his name made his head turn as he spied Kirishima exiting the office.
Shit.
"Yokozawa! Good work today. Just finished your rounds?" Kirishima said, making a beeline for him.
"Yeah, but I'm done for today so I was going to head back. Good work today."
"So you came all this way just to see me? I'm touched," Kirishima teased.
"Wha-no way in hell," Yokozawa replied, discomfited. It was just like Kirishima to interpret his actions however he pleased, if only to rile him up. "I'm leaving. Good work today."
A hand grabbed his arm.
"Hey- come home tonight." Kirishima said, looking at him imploringly. Yokozawa's knee-jerk reaction was to snatch his arm away and straight-up refuse, but he hesitated as he actually took in Kirishima's appearance.
"….…."
Suffice to say, his ghastliness was a close contender to Masamune's in his glory days. The least he could do right now was play along with his harebrained schemes.
Making an indistinct sound of agreement, he extricated his arm from Kirishima's and set off in the direction of the station.
Kirishima fell into step beside him and they walked in silence, shoulders brushing occasionally. Yokozawa's stomach roiled in discomfort every time this happened, casting about frantically for thing to talk about.
Even after all the time they'd spent… intimately, they knew next to nothing about each other. Yokozawa probably knew Hiyori better than her father, yet somehow when they got time to talk like this, his awkwardness froze up his tongue and he was left floundering for words. The feeling that he shouldn't be here, beside Kirishima, that his wife would have known all of this perfectly well, still persisted, and the shameful insecurity kept the questions firmly locked away.
After a few long moments, Yokozawa took the initiative.
"I'm on the Board for Diamond Heart," he blurted out. Work was the safest ground to discuss with Kirishima, and he might be able to provide some valuable guidance, after all, given his years of experience.
"Ahh, yes, I've heard talk of that happening," he said thoughtfully. "Well, congratulations. I'll take you out to drinks to celebrate. I can't say I'm surprised, though. Choosing you was a smart decision.""
"Yeah, yeah," Yokozawa said stiffly, "It's just an assignment, not a big deal." It was honestly strange how he had barely reacted when Henmi has said this to him, but just a few careless words from Kirishima along the same lines had him squirming uncomfortably.
The rest of the way home, they made small talk while Yokozawa surreptitiously tried to cast glances at Kirishima. It wasn't like he was worried, he knew Kirishima could take care of himself perfectly well. It was just that he knew the guy tended to bottle up stuff inside and ignore little things, like the nasty cough he'd developed.
"Take some medication for that cough of yours."
"I did this morning, so it should go away soon."
They needed to talk about whatever was bothering Kirishima, that much was certain. Yokozawa just had no idea how to bring it up. The same awkwardness that inhibited his curiosity towards Kirishima's life crept up on him, forcing him to throw his opportunity away with arbitrary conversation.
"I'm home!" Kirishima called out as they stepped into Kirishima's genkan.
"Welcome back!" Hiyo's chipper voice greeted them, along with the appearance of her shiny brown head, ornamented with a frilly pink accessory. She ran right into Kirishima's waiting arms that picked her up and twirled her around.
"Papa! I told you to stop doing that!" she scolded him, trying to hide how much she actually enjoyed him doing it. Kirishima just laughed, and Yokozawa felt his face involuntarily softening into a fond expression as he watched the little exchange, somehow feeling like an intruder on their father-daughter moment.
"Yokozawa-oniichan!" Hiyori said when she spotted him, her eyes lighting up. "You're here too! You should have called ahead and told me, but we sure are lucky today, 'cause grandma sent a gyuudon over. I'll heat it up, so have a seat, both of you."
With that, her small figure disappeared into the kitchen.
"Pardon the intrusion," Yokozawa muttered as he crossed the threshold into the house.
A dinner punctuated with little conversation other than Hiyori's cheerful chatter about her school and Yuki-chan, where Kirishima did barely anything but push his food around his plate, and a bath later, Yokozawa was feeling considerably ruffled.
He hadn't wanted to have such a personal conversation in a public place, and it was obviously not something they couldn't discuss in front of Hiyo. But now that she was safely asleep and they were sitting within the confines of Kirishima's living rooms nursing their beers, Yokozawa had no reason to put if off any longer.
"If something's bothering you, spit it out already," he said in a lowly, looking down at his hands that held his beer can.
"Hm?" Kirishima said, looking startled. A shadow passed over his face. "It's fine. Nothing important."
"It's obviously important if you've been distracted all day because of it!" Yokozawa snapped, irritation surging at Kirishima's casual dismissal. Then, softening his voice, "…Is it about that nightmare you had?"
Kirishima was quiet for a few moments, expression dark, before he replied. "…Yeah," he said quietly, expression dark. "I dreamt about Sakura."
"…Ah."
Of all possible things, Yokozawa least knew how to react to that. It felt like sacrilege even being here instead of her, so he couldn't possibly offer any advice pertaining to Kirishima's wife.
"I dreamt that I woke up beside you, and then you turned around and it was her, and she asked me to come to her. I was going to follow her, but then you were standing there, and. God I feel so pathetic getting so worked up over this."
Yokozawa just let him get it out, not knowing what to say. Before he knew it, his arm had crept to Kirishima's shoulder, steadying him.
"And I felt terrible. Because, in that moment, I honestly didn't know which way to turn. And the worst part of it is, I didn't even know what I felt guilty about. Choosing you, or choosing her." Kirishima's feelings were now flowing out unrestrainedly, like a dam within him had burst.
"I just feel like I'm letting you both down by feeling like this. Yokozawa," he tilted Yokozawa's face towards him, looking into his eyes so that he could see, in stark detail, the conflict marring his handsome features, "I'm sorry."
Yokozawa didn't know what to say to him. He'd never been good at the whole 'consoling people' thing, so he decided on settling for absolute honesty. Truth be told, he had never expected Kirishima to choose him over his wife, and just the very idea that Kirishima held him in such high regard as to not be able to choose between him and her gave rise to a warm buoyancy in his chest.
"I think… that's not a choice you'll ever have to make, right?" he finally replied, slowly, thinking out his words carefully. "So what's the use of worrying yourself about it? It's not a choice between me and her- it'll never be. So don't think you're doing either of us a disservice by not being able to choose."
Kirishima breathed deeply, considering for a few long moment, and then leaned his head on Yokozawa's shoulder.
"Yeah, you're right. How come you're always so sensible about these things?"
Yokozawa snorted. "Yeah, right." He was the least sensible when it came to fits of irrational jealousy and self-doubt. "I just gave you my honest opinion is all."
Kirishima hummed contentedly against Yokozawa's shoulder. "And that's what I love about you."
Yokozawa stiffened, and then was annoyed at himself for reacting like that. For God's sake, Kirishima hadn't even said anything too outlandish, so what was he getting all worked up over?
To hide his consternation, he picked up their empty cans and put them in the recycling, tossing Kirishima a tissue to mask his persistent coughs.
"I'm heading to bed. Goodnight," he said, heading towards the spare room, when Kirishima grabbed his hand, stalling him in his tracks.
"Come to bed with me," he murmured.
"Are you crazy? You do realize that Hiyo lives with us, right?"
"Just for a little bit. Please," and there were those damn imploring eyes again. Yokozawa faltered. Just what was Kirishima's angle? It didn't sound like he wanted to do anything, but sleeping with another man, non-sexually was… just strange.
"..."
He breathed a deep sigh. Just this once, and only because Kirishima looked like he was going to break apart with exhaustion any moment now.
'If you try anything weird, and I mean anything, you're on dishwashing detail for the next month."
Kirishima groaned. "You're so heartless~"
'I'm not heartless, we're just currently sleeping near a little kid and have work in the morning!"
"Oh, so you're saying it would've been fine otherwise?"
"J-just fucking get into bed."
"Alright, alright." Kirishima laughed, climbing into bed and holding out his arms. "You're going to be my little spoon, right?"
"Wh-who the hell said anything about being a little spoon?!" Yokozawa barely got the word out through his splutters of disbelief. The way Kirishima just said such things brazenly, without a trace of self-consciousness, was something he'd never be able to understand or imitate. "You've got to be joking. We agreed on me staying here with you. Nothing more."
"Awwww, no cuddles?"
"Hell no. What if Hiyo walks in to wake you up and sees us?"
"Locks exist for a reason, you know."
"Her finding the door locked with the two of us inside is even worse!"
"Okay, okay, but just this."
Soft lips brushed over Yokozawa's, and before he had time to react, they had disappeared. He froze in shock.
"Don't just do that to other people!"
"Hmmm? You mean this?" Kirishima said smilingly, tilting his chin up and claiming his lips again, soft and almost... sweet. It was nothing like how he normally stole the air from Yokozawa's lungs, and though his usual kisses set Yokozawa's body on fire, if he was forced to admit it, this was kind of nice, too.
After a long, slow moment, Kirishima released his lips, smiling against them as his hand stroked Yokozawa's cheek.
"Whoever knew that the wild bear of Marukawa had it in him."
Yokozawa smacked his hand away, feeling the all-too-familiar blush staining his cheeks and neck, looking away to hide his discomfiture. He hadn't know he had it in him, had never considered himself the romantic type.
"Awww, don't blush!~"
"I'm not blushing!"
When they did finally settle in, though, for all his teasing, Kirishima seemed to go out like a light, complaining for barely five minutes about his aching body and how it made him feel old before slowly drifting off. Yokozawa watched his sleeping face for a while, taking in the lines of fatigue marring his youthful face, before his brows furrowed. Kirishima's face appeared swollen. Had he been crying?
Yokozawa quickly shook off the thought. It was ridiculous to think that a man he'd never even seen ruffled would cry over something like this. It was probably just the lighting, but it would be unwise to disregard it.
"You'd better get yourself checked out," he muttered.
Kirishima, half asleep, only hummed his assent. And if Yokozawa softly traced a hand over his cheek after he'd made sure that Kirishima was asleep, he never had to know.
"A beer for me, please," Yokozawa said to the bartender as Masamune slid into the stool next to him. "And a shochuu for him."
"Thanks," he muttered. "I need a drink after that."
That referred to the second Editorial Board meeting they'd had. The first one had gone surprisingly well, Yokozawa's research being well-received and suggestions being considered, albeit after a lengthy debate. The second meeting, however, had gone to the dogs about two minutes into its opening, and the members had run themselves ragged by the end of it.
"Yeah. It had its moments, though. Did you see the look on Aikawa's face when you shot him down?"
"It's not my fault that the idiot thought it was a good idea to fuck with the character design." Masamune replied, raising his glass as their drinks were set down before them.
"That's the surest way to put watchers off, change stuff about the characters. I don't know why they put such half-assed people on the Board." Yokozawa clinked his glass with Masamune's, then took a long drink. They sat in companionable silence for a beat, staring into their drinks before, without even looking, Yokoawa could tell that that all-too-familiar smirk had graced Masamune's features.
"So, Kirishima-san, huh?" he said, in that tone of voice he only used when he intended to hold something over Yokozawa's head forever.
"Oh hell no," Yokozawa said, spinning around to face him.
"Oh hell yes," Masamune's expression was pure evil. "We so are talking about this."
Yokozawa buried his face in his hands. "You're never gonna let this go, are you?"
"Nope," he looked entirely too happy for his own good, his smirk a full-blown devilish smile by now. "Well? Are you guys together?"
Yokozawa shifted uncomfortably. It was way too soon and way too unlike him to be admitting their relationship like this.
"…Yeah."
"Never pegged you as liking that type," Masamune said contemplatively. "You always used to go for the stodgy ones, and I could never understand why. Glad to see you've finally wised up."
"Wh-they weren't stodgy. They were intelligent and conscientious."
"You're just reiterating my point." His grin broadened. "Although, remember that one phase you had with Fumiko-chan, when-"
"Yes I do." Yokozawa hurriedly cut him off before he could start reminiscing on his truly embarrassing street punk phase.
Masamune started laughing, a genuine, happy laugh. It had been so long since Yokozawa had heard that sound that it sounded alien to his own years, yet came with the haunting familiarity of an old favorite song. A bittersweet pang rushed to his chest as he recalled the time when he had been the only one to elicit and to hear it.
He forced himself to maintain an impassive mien and tossed back lightly, "Well, at least I'm not the one who slept with his college professor, because, and I quote, I wanted to see if I could get her to do it."
Masamune colored, and Yokozawa couldn't help but let out a laugh of his own at him being the one lost for words for once.
"At least I didn't date a yandere!"
"Well, at least I didn't have weird object-insertion fantasies!"
"At least I didn't walk in on my roommate's girlfriend trying to rekindle his lost boner!"
"AT LEAST I DIDN'T HAVE SEX WITH THE DOOR OPEN!"
Despite barely being able to get the words out, they weakly spit fragmented insults at each other, clutching at their aching sides as they laughed and laughed. And Yokozawa realized how much he'd missed this, this easy companionship where he knew everything about the other person.
"So?" Masamune gasped out, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "How big is it?"
"How big is what?" Yokozawa said, confused for a second before realization dawned on him and he punched Masamune in the arm.
"No comment," he tried to hide the furious warmth rising in his cheeks as some very inappropriate thoughts concerning the organ in question lodged themselves firmly into his mind.
"Hey, at least tell me whether you're the dog or the cat!"
"I'm leaving!"
And with their combined laughter reverberating in his ears, Yokozawa basked comfortably in the knowledge that they were well on the way to normalcy.