Chapter Fifteen

The club was much busier than when Sousuke had brought Makoto. It had been a busier journey too, Haru staying close to him as though to protect himself from contact with other commuters. Makoto had noted that about Haru – that he wasn't keen on unwanted physical contact and he seemed to want to avoid it at all costs. It seemed he didn't mind if Makoto brushed his hand while washing dishes or something simple like that anymore but at first, Haru had shied away from even the simplest of contact. Makoto idly wondered if there was a reason why as he looked around the carriage, smiling slightly as he saw copies of Tracks being read by the commuters on their way home.

Once they arrived in the red light district, Haru just looked around like it was nowhere new to him. Makoto obviously didn't know but it seemed like Haru had been here before and even though he was curious he kept his mouth shut, unsure how to ask his roommate if he had often visited this particular area of Tokyo. Maybe he had come here for work, Makoto reasoned as Haru's eyes were narrowed and face was neutral as they walked passed the hostess clubs and other establishments, him taking it in with his sharp blue eyes.

When they arrived at the club, Makoto did as he'd done that first night, walking down the stairs and arriving at the bottom, paying his money and getting the hand stamp, his feet sticking on the greasy floor. Haru seemed more interested about the club than he had been about the streets and Makoto could see his eyes drawn to the many years worth of posters and the fliers on the walls and Makoto shrugged and approached the bar, seeing the flame haired guy serving drinks.

The stage was set and Makoto could see there was some anticipation in the crowd, some excitement, the people close together, talking in hushed tones. The music was low, some old rock song that Makoto could hum along to and tap his toes if he felt in the right mood and he saw the bartender look up when he arrived, Haru a few steps behind him.

He was still serving someone but his bright eyes took Makoto in before he walked the short distance to serve him.

"You're Sousuke's friend, right?"

He nodded. "Makoto," he offered and the guy gave a small smile.

"Momo," he replied, "what can I get you?"

Makoto didn't need to look at his roommate to confirm what he wanted, instead, all he did was order a beer for himself and an ice cold water, handing over the drink to Haru who then wandered off without a word to watch the band who had started to appear on stage, the crowd whistling and cheering at their arrival.

"Dumped?" Momo asked, leaning over and Makoto tried not to look as shocked as he felt as he figured it probably did look like he and Haru were dating. After all, Makoto knew what to order Haru to drink without asking or even looking at him but Makoto quickly shook his head.

"Haru's my roommate," he explained sharply, "he's an… odd guy."

Momo only put his hands up in a gesture that suggested Makoto had been a little too quick to deny Haru was anything more than a friend and gave a wide smile.

"Chill… watch my bro's band."

With a small "huh" on his lips, Makoto turned to see the band were ready to start playing – the same band that Sousuke had played with – and he realised the family resemblance between the teasing lead singer and Momo now. On the first visit, Makoto's focus had been on Sousuke, distracted by his intoxicating presence and how it felt to be close to him. And now he realised very clearly the lead singer and Momo were related from the flame red hair and the face shape.

Makoto did watch the band, searching out Haru who had found a wall to lean against and watch, and Makoto relaxed as he listened to the songs – some of them familiar and some of them not. They were good – and the lead singer was good but not as good as Sousuke was and Makoto wondered why he'd quit this band when it was clearly something he loved. And that made him remember why he was here.

Turning around, Momo was watching too, no one wanting drinks as most people had got drinks prior to the show starting and would wait until the break for their next.

"When did Sousuke leave the band?"

Momo blinked as he realised Makoto was talking to him and shrugged. "A year or so ago. My bro took it hard… they fell out and only recently started speaking again…"

"Why?"

"That's the question, right?" Momo said, a smile on his face. "Ask Sei after the show… he'll know more."

Someone did want a drink then and Makoto returned his attention to the stage, his head bobbing up and down as the song was good.

The show lasted an hour with a break in between sets and Makoto stayed until the last encore, a song that the whole crowd knew and sang along to at the end. It was infectious, the feeling and the music, the being around people who clearly loved and treasured these songs and Makoto couldn't help joining in, knowing enough of the words by the third time the chorus was played.

After it was done, the band left the stage and some music was played through the speakers, the crowd dispersing in various directions while some started dancing together, the high of the show making them giddy and excited. Haru walked over then and Makoto knew he wanted to go and Makoto didn't blame him. It hadn't been the most "Haru" night and he realised he owed his friend so much for all he'd done so far for him. He would make it up to him. Somehow.

"I'll see you when you get back," Haru said and Makoto nodded as he turned away.

Though before Haru could leave without anything else said between them, Makoto touched his shoulder gently and smiled, cocking his head to the side. "Thank you."

Haru just gave the smallest hint of a smile before he walked over to the stairs, Makoto watching him leave and feeling a knot of anxiety in his stomach at being left alone in a strange place but knowing he had to find out more about Sousuke. The lead singer appeared, Sei, talking to his brother and Makoto couldn't hear the conversation but could sense he was being talked about and that was confirmed when he felt a big hand on his broad shoulder and a voice at his ear.

"You wanna talk about Sousuke?"

Makoto muttered a small "yeah" and felt himself steered by that big hand on his shoulder towards a door that was signposted "staff only". The loud noise of the music was muffled once the door was closed behind them and Sei led Makoto down to an office – or more accurately, an office/dressing room/dumping ground. Sei moved some old magazines and receipts off an old green couch and offered Makoto a seat.

Looking around the room, Makoto saw pictures of the club and he saw the two brothers prominently along with pictures of a man that had to be their father.

"You're family… owns this?"

Sei laughed. "Don't be so shocked. Only way two kids would be running this place in the middle of Tokyo."

That made sense but seemed odd to Makoto. Family businesses were fish stalls and grocery stores in Iwatobi. Not some club in the red light district. It made him feel again that it wasn't where he belonged and Makoto tried not to seem stupid in front of the cool singer.

Without any care for Makoto, Sei removed a sweaty shirt and Makoto tried not to look at the tattoos on his skin, clearly Rin's work from the line and details. He swallowed and then stared at one of the photographs while a new shirt was put on, Makoto remembering the contours of Sousuke's body… the press of his body on his own in his bed… his mouth going dry at the memory.

"What do you want to know and why don't you ask Mr. Grumpy Asshole?"

Sei had grabbed a chair, pulling it so it was opposite Makoto and he kept it turned the wrong way, sitting on it backwards looking effortlessly cool. As that was the point about this whole thing that was damn stupid – why was Makoto not just asking Sousuke? Shouldn't he just do that?

But then he thought of Sousuke – Sousuke who clearly wanted Makoto, who backed off, whose eyes clouded, who left him… And Makoto spoke.

"Why did he leave the band?" Makoto asked, ignoring the second half of the question.

"Because he couldn't do it anymore."

"Why?" Makoto pressed.

"Ask him. Some shit with his family… fuck knows. If Sousuke doesn't want to talk… you don't get anywhere."

"You didn't want him to leave?"

Sei smiled, a big broad smile and he shook his head. "No way. We were going places – we had record companies interested… we had this fuckingfuture and he… walks away. It took a long time for me to talk to him without punching him in the face." Seeing Makoto's reaction, the small noise from his mouth, Sei leaned further forward. "Look… I guess you want to date him or whatever… fuck, good luck to you and all. But Sousuke walks away from everything when it gets tough. Think about it… you seem a good guy. Don't let him hurt you. Walk away first."

Makoto didn't know what to say, something had dropped out of his stomach, the breath from his lungs was now gone and he felt Sei reach for his hand and the feel of a marker pen against his hand. He looked up to see bright eyes and a smile.

"If you ever want someone without the shit and emotional baggage," he said, smirking and then with his number finished, Sei stood up, Makoto looking at the ink on his hand.

He left, barely saying anything to Sei, mumbling out a "thanks" and when he got outside, the night was rainy, a storm passing through and Makoto was soaked and cold as soon as he stepped outside, his body shivering from the chill or maybe from something else. Makoto knew he should go back to the apartment, crawl into bed and think about what he was doing but instead, he remembered Rin's shop and Sousuke's apartment and he was going to do something stupid.

Running through the streets, the rain in icy sheets against his skin, Makoto found Rin's shop but it was closed, the shutters drawn and he then thought about Sousuke's place, remembering the location from the mornings "walk of shame" minus the shame. Pounding the wet concrete, his sneakers full of water from the rain, Makoto ran to Sousuke's place, getting into the building, dripping as he ran to the door of Sousuke's apartment, his skin cold but his blood on fire.

The door was in front of him before Makoto knew it and he raised his fist heavily, banging on the door with impatience that Makoto didn't show. Makoto had always been the good guy, the good kid, the kid who just got walked over and Sousuke wasn't going to use him – wasn't going to walk away from him.

Makoto wasn't going to be the nice guy.

The door opened and Sousuke was stood there, his hair tousled and his eyes bright, unobscured by his trademark sunglasses and he looked tired, clearly having been asleep. Makoto would've been amused by the Batman pyjama pants and no shirt if he hadn't felt like he did.

"Makoto?" Sousuke asked, his voice showing his confusion.

And instead of launching into an angry tirade about how he wanted to know where he stood, Makoto stepped forward, grabbed for Sousuke's bicep and used the moment of shock to drag him close, press their lips together and slide his tongue into Sousuke's mouth, the kiss aggressive and hot.