DAISUKE

Sunday, 9 p.m.

"I can close my eyes without you covering them, you know."

I shake my head, even though he can't see. "Of course you can," I say, close to his ear. "That doesn't mean I trust you to keep your eyes shut."

Ken scowls, but I keep my hands in place over his eyes until we're right in front. He probably has an idea of where we are anyway with the music loud over the speakers.

The Caretta Shiodome complex is tall and imposing, but during the winter, your eyes never focus on the Shiodome itself because you're too busy staring at the blue and white lights shimmering all around you, glowing and flickering and dancing in tune with the holiday music.

"Okay," I murmur. "Prepare to be awed."

When I finally remove my hands, he blinks a few times to adjust to the light as white sparks up the enormous blue Christmas trees, then blue lights spread across the ground, surrounding us. He spins slowly, taking it all in, but I only have eyes for him.

"It's beautiful," he finally says.

I nod, watching the soft smile on his face. "Yeah, you are."

He turns his blue-violet eyes on me, and a touch of pink rises to his cheeks. "I was talking about the lights, Daisuke," he chides.

"I know." I step closer, clasping his hand in mine, and grin. "But I was talking about you."

He rolls his eyes, but his blush increases. "I know," he says in a quiet, bashful voice.

With a flourish, I wave my free hand around the light display. "See what a lovely, romantic confession you ruined?" I sigh wistfully as I turn back to him, holding my head high. "It was going to be perfect and wonderful and sweet, but you just couldn't wait."

Ken narrows his eyes. "You know how much I hate surprises. I've told you hundreds of times, but you delight in tormenting me."

"Oh, so you're blaming me now?" I nudge him in the side, mouth flattening into a thin line. "I think you're just impatient."

"Says the most impatient person I've ever met."

I cross my arms over my chest. "That's not very nice. I waited twelve years for you, but you couldn't wait a couple more hours?"

"You were the one who said you couldn't wait any longer," he reminds me.

"Not after your ridiculous drunken semi-confession, no." I shake my head. "Not after you were throwing yourself at me, trying to tear my clothes off and have your way with me."

Eyes dangerously narrow, he starts to say something, to continue the argument and probably up the ante, but he pauses, brow furrowing, and something lights up his eyes. "Twelve years?"

I nod.

"So the crush you mentioned last night, when you were pretending to still like Hikari," he says slowly, and I recognize the look in his eyes—realization, recognition, understanding. "That was me?"

"Of course it was, you baka," I snap as heat rises to my cheeks. But I hesitate, rubbing the back of my head as I allow the embarrassment to take over. "Well, to be fair, by the time I realized, I was long past the crush stage."

"And when did you realize?"

"The first time I slept over at your place, right after BelialVamdemon." I look away, and he squeezes my hand, reassuring, kind. "I woke up that morning, surrounded by everything that felt and smelled like you, and it just felt right—like coming home. And then I watched you help your mom make breakfast and nearly ruin her delicious souffle pancakes, and I just thought to myself that if I got to spend the rest of my life like that, just being with you instead of worrying about saving the world, I'd be happy."

Despite his blush, Ken laughs. "I see you've always enjoyed my struggles in the kitchen."

"It's certainly entertaining," I say with a shrug.

"For me," he says, his voice suddenly solemn, "it was Christmas. That first Christmas."

I cock my head. "Your party? What about that made you…?"

"We were playing some game, and it was this big mess of yelling and joking around, and something made me laugh—maybe it was Miyako? I don't remember. But everyone else looked at me like it was the strangest thing and commented on how they'd never heard me laugh before, but you…" If possible, his blush intensifies as he buries his chin in his dark gray scarf. "You weren't surprised in the least. Or rather, you were surprised by them, not me. You've always understood me."

I bite my lip, frowning. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ken looks at me like I'm insane, then purses his lips. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I roll my eyes, but I suppose he has a point. I turn to him, taking his hands in mine, and look him straight in the eye. "I thought it was obvious." He opens his mouth, but I don't let him speak. "Ken, I've been flirting with you since the day I met you. Before I even realized I liked you."

He frowns.

And I frown too. "Well, not the first time, obviously. The soccer match." I squeeze his hands. "Don't you remember this dorky, stuttering mess of a boy coming up to you to make sure I didn't hurt you too bad? You shook my hand, and I didn't want to wash it for a week. I didn't even care I lost the match to you because you were amazing—and I'm not just talking about your skills on the pitch. I was glowing. Well, until…"

Ken nods, and I'm glad I don't have to say it. Even twelve years later, we don't often talk about the short period of his life he spent as the Digimon Kaiser. That usually requires alcohol, and I generally try to let him steer the conversation.

"I will admit," he says slowly, still not meeting my eyes, the blush returning to his cheeks, "I always thought you were rather cute."

I cock an eyebrow. "Always?"

He doesn't look at me.

"Even when you were…?"

That makes him direct his gaze to me finally. "Yes, even as the Kaiser." He clears his throat and dons a small smug smile. "Really, how often do you find a truly worthy adversary?"

My brow furrows.

He's making a joke. A joke about being the Kaiser.

Well, I suppose it has been twelve years.

"And you were truly worthy, Daisuke." His voice is softer now, no longer teasing. "That hint of a crush grew when you offered me your hand of friendship, and it only continued to grow from there, no matter how much I tried to crush it with reminders that we were friends and nothing more." There's a tinge of sadness to his voice now, and well, we can't have that…

I smirk. "Ah, so my joke about BDSM wasn't far off."

He pulls back and smacks me in the chest. "Seriously, we were eleven years old. That's hardly where my brain was focused."

But I laugh. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'll try anything once."

Despite himself, he releases a bout of anxious laughter. "You're insane."

"And you love it."

He steps closer, pressing against my chest. "I love you." And he closes the distance between us, placing a kiss on my mouth right in the middle of the Caretta Shiodome as easily a hundred people watch the glittering light display.

And I'm definitely not complaining.

I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him tight against me, and slide my tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, savoring his taste. His fingers slide into my thick hair, scraping against my scalp, and I take a deep, steadying breath, pulling away before we get too enthusiastic.

"You know," I murmur, nuzzling his cheek as he slows his breathing, "now that I have you, I'm never letting you go. You won't be able to get rid of me."

He presses a kiss to my temple. "I don't know why I'd want to."

"If you're moving apartments," I say, bringing back his panicked words from dinner to make my point, "I'm following you." I heave a sigh and squeeze him closer. "But I'm not sure I see the point. We have a perfectly good space. It seems silly to move."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," he says, nodding, and a beautiful smile spreads across his face. "But maybe we could consolidate."

I quirk an eyebrow. "Consolidate?"

"Well, it seems just as silly to take up two rooms, don't you think? And you know, mine is the bigger room, and I have the bigger bed…"

I look up at him with a giant grin. "Why, Ichijouji, are you asking me to move in with you?"

A light flush rises to his cheeks. "Not if you're going to act like that."

"Okay."

He raises an eyebrow. "Okay?"

I nod.

"You're not worried it's moving too fast?"

"We've been doing this ridiculous dance for twelve years, Ichijouji. I don't see the point of going slow. Haven't we gone slow enough?" Laughter bubbles in my throat. "I'd ask you to marry me right now if we could."

His eyes widen, and he plants a slow kiss on my mouth. "I'd say yes in a heartbeat," he whispers against my lips, and he covers my mouth with his again.

"It'd be very romantic too," I say, pulling back from the kiss to gesture around the light display. "I mean, this is really the perfect place for a romantic overture, don't you think?"

Ken purses his lips. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry I ruined your love confession. Are you going to throw that in my face constantly?"

I grin. "At least once a year. On our anniversary."

"Motomiya." He levels me with a serious gaze. "Shut up."

"Make me, Ichijouji." I stick out my tongue.

He heaves an irritated sigh, but he presses his lips to mine and I'm no longer interested in talking.