Nezumi's not really sure why he bothers to feel anything anymore, but here he is— feeling everything in Shion's old-ass car, smack dab in the middle of a gas station parking lot.
Bastard.
Nezumi's eyes burn and he chokes on the curses in his throat.
It's not Shion's fault. He can't blame him. If their situations were reversed he would have done the same. Shion's learned well, really.
Why does it hurt so much?
His companion's lips are still slightly wet and parted in a stupid 'o' shape that only fans Nezumi's entirely undesired want.
This wasn't supposed to happen. It's all just so ridiculous. Shion pushed him away. Shion, who's been looking at him like he's water in the desert for the last week—pushed him away. Nezumi half-expects to hear clapping and see Shion take a bow as he reveals that this was secretly a performance all along. It's like a sick joke.
He laughs. Loudly. A mirthless, uneven noise that echoes through the car. He tugs his fingers through his tangled hair as the sound reverberates in his chest.
Shion just about startles out of his seat. Good. Great. Fucking fantastic.
"Nezumi!?"
But Nezumi finds he can't stop, he raises a hand to his throat, eyes widening. What's going on?
Arms wrap around him, his or Shion's, it's hard to tell but they're squeezing a little too tight.Nezumi leans into them and lets his body shake and his air to run out, laughter giving way to rasping breaths. Shion's whispering to him in his stupid pleasant voice, it's okay, it's really okay, but Nezumi's stopped listening. His mind abruptly flashes to the note that started this whole mess. Plain and simple—surrounded by color.
I just want to get out of this city for a while, Shion had written.
I understand, Nezumi should have replied. I do and I don't understand.
Let's run together.
Why—?
"Nezumi, talk to me," Shion pleads, purple eyes wide and nervous. Nezumi shakes his head. His mind stills, and a wry smile forms on his face. It's a rush, close to standing on the ledge of a cliff, frightening Shion like this. Everything abruptly feels right again. This is what Nezumi's meant to do— it's what he is. He'll break Shion like this, and that's okay. Everything between them can become unimportant now.
"I didn't—" Nezumi pauses, temporarily thrown by how hoarse his voice sounds. He forces himself to sit up, and realizes Shion's the one holding him. Shit. The fucked-up adrenaline pumping through Nezumi's veins grants him a few breaths, and a steadier voice. He continues, "I didn't think you would be so cruel, as to reject a crying man's kiss."
Shion's breath catches. Hands start rubbing soothing circles on Nezumi's back— Nezumi flinches.
"Oh no. Nezumi, no. I wasn't— "
It's warm in Shion's arms. Nezumi chokes out another laugh. He kissed Shion. He kissed Shion. Fucking idiot.
"Perhaps I'm trying to seduce you was simply a platonic phrase?" he taunts into Shion's collarbone. It's relatively easy to nestle in there as Shion's firing so many opposing signals Nezumi might as well just relax into the one that's the most comfortable and allows him to potentially take a nap.
"You know it wasn't."
There are lips in his hair, warm and perfect. The same lips that were against his own minutes ago. Nezumi jumps. One of Shion's hands is smoothing his hair, the other rests innocuously on his back. Shion's heart pounds against his ear. Pricks of heat spread through Nezumi everywhere Shion touches.
"Nezumi, look at me. Please."
His shoulders burn and Nezumi realizes Shion's attempting to turn him in his arms. He shuts his eyes for a second, refuses to budge but then helplessly melts into the motion.
He can't run. "Shion why—"
Shion presses kisses against his forehead, his cheeks, his ear. Gentle, chaste kisses that force his eyes open and shut down his brain.
Wha?
Shion frantically mumbles between scattered kisses, "Please don't misunderstand. I want to kiss you so much, Nezumi. Nezumi, more than anyone I just want to—to keep you safe. But you looked so scared just now. So angry and sad. I didn't think you wanted to kiss me, I think you wanted—"
Shion wants him? …Still?
But. Why?
Nezumi mindlessly tilts his head trying to meet Shion's lips again to pull the answer out through them, but Shion's hands return to his shoulders. He doesn't push him away, but holds him still.
Nezumi finds himself staring straight into purple eyes.
"I think you just wanted to get out of your head," Shion finishes.
Nezumi blinks. Once. Twice. Shion strokes his cheek with aching caution. His eyes shine. An ocean sunrise comes to mind.
"I don't want to kiss you back only to find it's something you regret later. I'm not an outlet. I'm interested in you. I don't know if that was something you really wanted or if you just didn't want to talk to me anymore so you did what you knew would distract me. I just need to know what that kiss was, before I reciprocate."
Shion looks away, ducking his head.
Reciprocate.
And Nezumi thinks with startling clarity— somewhere between waves of guilt and confusion and the memory Shion's lips against his own—
Fuck everything.
His hand finds Shion's. Nezumi has the impulse to crush the fingers under his, but destroys the thought. Hurting Shion is the last thing he wants. He is going to do this right, in spite of everything between them. He brings Shion's hand to his lips, kissing each of his knuckles softly like he deserves.
"Nezumi-?" Shion blinks.
"Don't do that," Nezumi whispers.
"Eh?"
"Put words in my mouth Shion. It's—a bad idea." Nezumi clarifies, taking Shion's face into his hands, properly this time. Shion's cheeks heat at his touch and Nezumi studies his face. His fear doesn't fade completely, but seems to transform into something governable with Shion gazing at him.
"I did want to get out of my head, yes. But I didn't regret it until you pulled away." Nezumi swallows, the awkwardness of the situation finally settling and resulting, surprisingly not in terror, but in embarrassment.
He swallows. "I don't know…what I was doing. And I don't know what the kiss was, but I know meant it."
"Oh," Shion says.
"Oh," Nezumi repeats.
It's far from an answer and it probably brings up more questions than anything but when Shion moves in and kisses him hard on the mouth Nezumi can't find it in himself to hesitate.
He shuts his eyes and lets it happen, buries his hands in Shion's soft, white hair and indulges in helpless attraction. Shion's arms hug him closer and Nezumi's ready to comply— maintaining this connection is absolutely crucial to the rotation of the earth at this point.
Shion kisses messily, but with a certain exhilarated intensity that kindles something in the pit of Nezumi's stomach.
It's different than any other kiss Nezumi has given or received. It's in the small things, the unmistakably Shion things, the way he tries to calm his fast breathing by mumbling little mindless things into Nezumi's mouth that neither of them understand. The way Shion awkwardly twists his body trying to get a better angle, all too ready to pull Nezumi closer, no hesitation. No pause. The way, between kisses, Shion whispers selfless words to him but kisses in a deep, consuming way that speaks of need.
A fever starts between them and Nezumi wants desperately to break it— he pulls Shion closer, ready to drag him back to his seat and continue this, whatever the hell it is. Shion's so close and terror spikes in his gut but Nezumi's drowni— his hip knocks the hot chocolate between them. It teeters dangerously.
"Fushmuh!" Nezumi blurts (complete nonsense instead of the intended curse) catching it painfully before it tips.
Shion holds up his hands, giving him room, thrown by the sudden distance between them.
"What is it Nezumi? The syllables of his name are broken up between gentle inhales, leaving Nezumi's head pleasantly empty and his heart strangely proud. Dammit.
"Move over, I don't want to get burned today," Nezumi clarifies, gesturing lamely to the almost-full hot chocolate. It's an ironic sentence. He ignores it.
"Oh right I'll just—" Shion inches over slightly and Nezumi joins him on the too-small driver's seat. It quickly becomes apparent that between the steering wheel, drink holders and Shion— there's really no comfortable way for them to sit side-by-side. Nezumi settles onto Shion's lap, trying not to put all his weight on him at once.
Shion squirms a little—a strange, unsexy shimmy. It's almost endearing.
"Am I crushing you? Is this alright?"
Shion's arms slip behind his back, more of a strategy to get comfortable than any spicy move. "Yes it's fine—but —are you comfortable there? You're touching the ceiling a bit."
Nezumi cringes, ducking slightly to rest against Shion's forehead. Shion breathes in and Nezumi feels his breath on his lips. His body rallies as if hit by some sort of static charge. His face warms to match Shion's.
This is…
"Um, Nezumi?" Shion comments.
Fuck it. Nezumi reminds himself. Shion's willing, you're willing, why hesitate? Clear your head.
He leans in, it's easy enough to find Shion's lips like this and their positioning begins to make much more sense when Nezumi can feel Shion's legs pressed up against his own. Nezumi runs a hand up them, curious, feeling the smooth fabric of Shion's pants. Shion makes a small, startled noise and Nezumi unconsciously returns the sound, deep in his throat.
"Shion," he mumbles against his lips. And suddenly Shion's hands are deep in his hair and Shion's kissing him with vigor. Nezumi presses closer, slowly relaxing into the warm lap underneath him—
"Mm—wait!" Shion seems to wake up, disconnecting their lips. His hair's mussed and hopelessly tempting—Nezumi forces his gaze to the window. One of Shion's hand drifts from Nezumi's hair to his cheek. His fingers lightly wipe underneath his eye.
"Nezumi, you're still crying."
"Ah?" Nezumi blinks, hand flying to his other cheek. Warm water greets his fingertips.
Well shit.
"Oh, this isn't—" Nezumi quickly wipes away the trail with his hands, now fully aware of the slight blur of his vision. He blinks several times and looks at the ceiling before caving and rubbing his eyes on his sleeve.
"This isn't—" he repeats, dumbly. "This isn't a regular thing. They're the same tears from before they just won't…"
Shion tilts his head, concern written all over his flushed face. Nezumi honestly debates running out of the car and hiding in a ditch somewhere.
"They won't stop?"
Nezumi shakes his head somewhat frantically. He can't remember the last time he cried in front of another person—and to have it continue for this long— What if they never stop?
His derisive breath— Of course they'll stop—puffs against Shion's face making his white hair flutter a little. Nezumi sits up, narrowly avoiding hitting his head of the roof of the car and abruptly realizes making out with Shion in the front seat was probably a Very Dumb Idea.
He doesn't regret it and he wouldn't take it back but still. Not his brightest moment.
"Don't— talk." Nezumi blurts intelligently before he hears himself.
Shion chokes, covering his mouth with his hands. Nezumi's stomach flips before he realizes Shion's just poorly stifling his laughter.
"It's not funny!"
Shion holds up his hands, coughing once. "I know! It's just— You were making this face! This childish face I thought it was…"
Shion trails off, showing some modicum of survival ability, but his lips stay turned up in a knowing smile. Nezumi wonders if the tears are making his glass-melting glare less impressive or Shion's just developed immunity.
"Oh do elaborate, Shion. Tell me more about my childish face," Nezumi threatens.
Shion only shakes his head. Nezumi feels one of his hands tangle in his hair, and wonders if Shion's going to kiss him again when he's suddenly pushed into Shion's shoulder.
"I'm sorry for laughing," Shion says.
"Yeah, yeah," Nezumi mumbles, snug in the space between Shion's neck and shoulder. He smells nice. Fresh. Unfair.
Nezumi's quivering heartbeat slows as Shion draws circles on his back.
"This is fucking humiliating," he grumbles after a moment. "I feel like a child."
"It's okay, Nezumi. You're human too."
Nezumi grunts.
"Um," Shion says after a moment because he can never seem to keep quiet for longer than 30 seconds when Nezumi wants him to. "What are we?"
Nezumi sighs, loudly.
"You want to do this now? Really?"
Shion runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I can wait."
But really, Shion's waited long enough. It really is time to slap a label on this thing, whatever it is. Nezumi shakes his head, pulling away from Shion's neck in order to look at him. Shion smiles and wipes under Nezumi's eyes again, and Nezumi falters.
"You want to pick a title, Shion? I'm sure you've been thinking of one."
Lovers. Boyfriends. All kinds of attachments pop into Nezumi's head. He finds it hard to argue with any of them. After all this, he might as well admit defeat and commit. They're nebulous words but not impossible to negotiate with. Dating Shion…he's practically already agreed. Nezumi would be lying if he said the possibility was unpleasant.
…Or anything less than appropriate. Twistedly appealing even, not that Nezumi's sure why Shion would actually want to waste such a powerful bond on him.
"…Soulmates?" Shion asks staring way too honestly into Nezumi's eyes and Nezumi stumbles up so fast that he accidentally honks the horn of the car in the process.
"Fuck—ing!"
He falls back into Shion's lap just as Shion's apologizing repeatedly, shaking his head so fast it seems to blur.
"I'm sorry I don't know why I said that—I was just looking at you and I thought—oh. That was forward—I mean— You've seemed to appreciate my honesty in the past so I thought I'd—"
"Who says that. Who…actually says that? Out loud?"
Shion's blushing to his ears. "I was caught up in the heat of the moment I—probably should have thought that out more, admittedly considering the circumstance this was probably—"
"Probably a little too fast," Nezumi completes, still very much on Shion's lap.
Oh.
"Yes," Shion replies.
Nezumi painfully gets up, careful to avoid the horn and ceiling and moves back to his seat. He rests his forehead in his hands.
"Soulmates. Really?" he mumbles, still recovering, and Shion coughs, tapping his hands on the steering wheel.
His quiet solo is the only sound in the car. Nezumi risks a glance at Shion's embarrassed face. He's so flustered it's almost sweet.
Nezumi smiles, barely. "I can't say I've ever been called that before."
"I haven't called anyone that before either," Shion mumbles.
Nezumi shakes his head, swallowing an unexpectedly genuine laugh. Shion. "So what do we do now?"
"…Can you tell me about yourself? More?"
Nezumi's smile fades.