He has no idea what to do as the Doctor's return and say they're very sorry, but Koujaku needs rest and an MRI scan and all sorts of other medical terms he doesn't understand, that he has to leave. He obeys them, of course, and Koujaku smiles as he leaves and though he looks weak and tired, he's still the same as ever and that is little comfort.

He finds a nice, quiet corner near a fire-exit door he assumes leads to the roof, and sinks onto the floor with his head in his hands, eyes dry but his breath still catching and hitching with what he supposes is delayed shock and panic.

He feels quite sick suddenly, and coughs into his fist as acidic bile rises into his mouth to burn his gums raw, reaching for his coil before remembering Hagima is on the ward downstairs and even though they are best friends, they're not the 'crying on each other's shoulders', type of friends.

So he calls the only other person he can think of.

'Hey Kou! Was wondering when I'd hear from you again, how're things?"

'Koujaku's awake.' His tone had been friendly, chirpy almost, but his own response is too quick and sudden, guilt flooding him as he considers that he doesn't want to bring anyone else down with his own issues.

'That must be a relief. Are you okay?'

'I'm not sure.' He pauses to sniff and there's a considering hum from the other end, closing his eyes to the sound of distant voices and bustling footsteps on the floor above. 'What are you doing?'

'I just picked up Tomomi for a walk.'

He hears a small bark, she recognizes her name it seems, and in spite of everything, he smiles, 'the Shiba?'

'Mm-hm, you want to help walk her? I can meet you at the hospital if you're still there.'

'Okay, yeah. Yeah.'

'Alright dude, me and one very good dog are on the way. We'll see you in ten.'

He isn't really surprised Jin's comforting technique involved a dog again, following the long path up to the shrine and filling the time with conversation of anything but Koujaku and the rest of the team, Tomomi let off her lead to bound around as she saw fit.

She's a really beautiful dog, and when they pause at the top of the hill for a break, Kou plops down beside her to give her ears a good scratch, Jin joining him on the roughly tiled ground and expression a little tighter as they finally move onto the important stuff.

"How is he?"

"He seems okay. He said it wasn't my fault."

"Because it wasn't," Kou opens his mouth to object then closes it again, because he wants to know what Jin will say and besides, with a large dog attempting to climb into his lap it's a little hard to focus on anything else. "You told him not to join Morphine, you told him it was a bad idea and he ignored you… He left you behind. I know he's your friend, and your leader, but that doesn't mean you're meant to follow him blindly, I know I would leave Dry Juice if something weird was happening."

"But maybe I could have helped, if I'd stayed."

"You saw what everyone was like, there would have been nothing you could do, you know that. If you hadn't come to us for help it might have been weeks before anybody noticed you were all missing, it would have been worse. Think about it this way, you didn't leave him. You were forced to leave, he left you behind as if that was okay, but you're not supposed to do that to your friends, if you were so reluctant he should have known something was wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up apologizing to you."

"You think?"

"Yep. You're a good guy, Kou, you tried to help before things went wrong and it was you who saved them, who came to us for help and got them out. Nobody can deny that, alright?" He's shifted to sit beside him, an arm around his shoulder in a comforting motion and the other rubbing at Tomomi's fluffy head, squeezing him in his grip and staying tactically quiet as his eyes get a little wet.

"She's a good dog."

He chuckles wetly as she perks up at his words, tail wagging insistently against the hot ground and agreeing easily, "a very good dog."


"What exactly are we doing?"

"Movie night."

Sly nodded slowly, regarding the blanket, bowl of popcorn and crate of beer on the coffee table with suspiciously narrowed eyes, because properly watching a movie with snacks wasn't something he'd done since he was very small, and even then it hadn't been with somebody else like this. With company, yes. But not like this. "You're not expecting me to cuddle are you?"

"Not if you don't want, but most couples do."

"We're a couple now? That's news to me." His tone is pleasantly neutral and there's the tiniest, warmest tilt of his lips that shows he's not angry with the implication, not right now anyway.

Mizuki laughed at that, a breathy chuckle from where he lingered in the kitchen, washing up pots from lunch probably, "in the sense that there's two of us, yes. But you've got a point, not a couple. I'll let you pick the movie though." Sly turned just in time to catch the sky remote Mizuki threw at him, expression of utter alarm at having a lump of hard plastic flung at him fading into a scowl fast.

"Good catch, use Netflix, there's loads on there, just pick one, I'm gunna order pizza."

Sly nodded absently, fingers shaking as they held the remote, knowing how to turn on the TV and how to change channels and not knowing much else, let alone how to access the Netflix account he'd seen Mizuki use a hundred times by now. He wasn't embarrassed, Sly Blue didn't get embarrassed, he was just irritated. Yeah, that was it. It wasn't his fault this stupid fucking remote had like fifty buttons, none of which were labelled helpfully. Still, maybe if he just pressed each one he'd eventually get where he wanted to be.

His logic was flawed, yes, but it was still better than standing around like a twat doing literally nothing to make himself look competent.

When Mizuki returned ten minutes later Sly was gnawing on his fingernails and staring at a settings menu with a look one could only describe as murderous.

"Is it playing up?" Mizuki asked, well aware signal on the island wasn't always amazing and hoping his plans wouldn't be thwarted by the rain that fell heavily outside, uncharacteristic for summer but not actually that unwelcomed considering how clammy it had gotten lately. He did have to admit though, that bad signal wouldn't explain why Sly was currently hovering over the 'display settings' option, wondering if he'd wanted to change the aspect ratio but doubting that was something he'd suddenly started caring about.

"I don't know how to use this," his voice was a murmur, ashamed of having to admit it.

"The remote?" Mizuki's voice was more amused than Sly liked, debating flinging the stupid remote at his head then reminding himself to calm down and scowling at how easy it was to tamp down the momentary rage that had risen in his gut.

"I don't exactly have a fucking smart TV, do I?" In fact his physical possessions equated to Ren and the small amount still at Tae-san's house, his bag containing one change of clothes, some cigarettes and a mixture of various illegal substances, and that was about it.

"Okay, okay, sorry, didn't mean to be an ass." Mizuki's face was so honestly apologetic Sly couldn't even be angry with him anymore, turning to flop onto the sofa with a huff.

"Whatever," he groused, accepting the remote again when it was set up and handed to him, immediately flicking to the horror section, deciding he didn't care if Mizuki would rather watch some cliché romance. Even if they were actually dating, (which they weren't, no matter how deluded the bartender was), Sly was certain he wouldn't change any of his tastes just to please Mizuki.

It was awkward. That was the only way he could think to describe it. When they were together normally they'd be doing something much more active, but now, sat in the dark across from each other on the sofa, the air was tense and Sly almost wanted to squirm uncomfortably. The apartment was far from cold but he'd taken the blanket for himself anyway, anything to stop the bartender trying to wrap them both up in it, winding it around himself like a burrito so there was no way he would be parted from it without a fight.

Not that he wanted to fight, the film was actually pretty decent, entertaining enough to keep him interested and a cool beer in his hand instead of his usual stronger tipple. He'd complained about Mizuki hogging the corner of the L-shaped sofa, and thus having the ability to fully stretch his legs out across the couch, and had countered this by shoving his own feet abruptly, and without invitation into the bartenders lap.

The hand on his ankle he allowed, there was really no other place for Mizuki to put his arms now he was burdened with a pair of stubborn legs, one hand holding his beer and offering over a pre-lit cigarette occasionally, ashtray neatly resting just below Sly's knees.

Sly is really glad he chose the film he did, because he's actually paying full attention to it and it isn't often he finds something enthralling enough to actually distract him from everything else going on, something he's certainly needed lately.

He's trying to locate the bottle opener when Mizuki jerks with a choked inhale as something lunges suddenly onto the screen and Sly laughs without thinking about it, finding it hilarious that he'd reacted so violently to practically nothing. He scoots closer to tease him unconsciously, his butt pressing into the tattooist's thigh and his knees bent to rest against his chest, expression wide and smile not as mocking as he might like.

"Oh my God! I cannot believe you shit yourself like that, was little Mizuki scared?" He earns a raised eyebrow and an incredibly weak glare that falters into an exasperated grin as his cheeks are grabbed and squished between Sly's entertained hands. "Awh, aren't you just the cutest?"

"Adorable, I'm sure. Let go of my face," he swats him away half-heartedly and just smiles when he makes a childish noise of disappointment and reaches forward for another beer, giving up his previous search as a lost cause and using his molars to pull the cap off instead.

"You'll chip your teeth," it's a distracted remark, Mizuki too is engrossed in the movie as it progresses towards what will undoubtedly be a surprising conclusion, to really put much concern into it, and he knows Sly will just respond with an uncaring shrug anyway, as he indeed does.

He doesn't feel the need to move away afterwards, instead he makes a pain of himself by wriggling all over the place until he's comfortable and the blanket is suitably draped so he can make use of his hands, making up for the lost warmth around his chest by heavily dumping his head against Mizuki's shoulder instead.

The bartender doesn't complain, but then of course he doesn't, he's probably in heaven right now and Sly is so fucking comfortable he sees no reason to move, it's not like he's doing anything too dumb.

But then Mizuki's arm apparently goes numb and that's his excuse to wrap it around Sly's middle, other back on his calf as he lets his legs sag down onto him properly, all but sat in his lap and fine with it until it's reciprocated and this is definitely cuddling. It's okay for a few minutes, first of all it's really warm and the night has gotten cooler now the sun has gone down, rain still pattering weakly against the high window behind the TV set. Secondly, Mizuki always smells really good and Sly has always openly appreciated this, not to the level of informing him, but he's never made it much of a secret that he steals the bartender's clothes for scent as well as comfort. Thirdly, he's kinda drunk now, tipsy at least, and that soft haze of alcohol blurs his senses so he can just feel the soft rising and falling of Mizuki's chest against his body, the fingers on his calf trailing concentric circles over his skin where the blanket has fallen loose.

It's suddenly, inexplicably, too nice, too comfortable, too pleasant and safe and he wants to escape, squirming in the arms that hold him barely ten minutes into the movies sequel, panic rising in his throat and overwhelming his desire to see where that cliff-hanger led.

"Hey, calm down. It's just me," Mizuki urges, loosening his arm slightly where it wraps around his waist, he's stiff as a board and suddenly looks like an animal ready to escape, eyes scanning the room for an exit. "Try to relax."

It was easy. Too easy to relax back into the bartenders body, to surround himself with his warmth and his reassuring smell and to ignore it, to pretend the fingers now trailing up and down his waist aren't making his skin tingle. So he accepts another beer and a cigarette and sits still again and reminds himself that this is fine and he's still not doing anything dumb.

The kiss pressed to his hair about an hour later is too much.

Suddenly he wants to cry, Mizuki's nose nuzzling into his hair and against the skin of his neck just making his throat clog up and okay so maybe he's actually drunk, but honestly why does that matter now? He's an emotional wreck 90% of the time anyway, without the influence of alcohol and all this tenderness that makes him feel like a horrible, guilty mess who doesn't deserve to be treated so well.

"Stop it." It was a whisper, he sounded scared, so unlike himself that he hated it.

"Hm?" He hadn't heard, lips moving in a soft hum against his skin and it was like a million insects clawing at his flesh and making the blood drain from his face because damn he didn't like this. Well, that wasn't entirely true, the real issue was that he didn't deserve it.

"Stop it," his voice was wet and he was ashamed to admit he missed it when Mizuki moved back, arm around his waist retreating a little to land on the small of his back and trail up his spine, warm contact sparking through his clothes.

"Stop what?" It was a quiet mumble, almost a purr, like a cat being lavished with attention, fingers now in his hair, twisting a strand round.

A shiver ran up his spine and he freaked the fuck out, elbows and feet kicking until the suitably alarmed bartender released him, grunting as his elbow sunk into something soft, his stomach perhaps. But by then it was already too late. It was too much and too different and he hated that he didn't hate it, hated that he already missed the attention, hated how terrible and worthless it made him feel.

"Everything! Stop all of this!" His eyes were so blurry he couldn't see, trying to blink away the tears only for them to fall instead and oh fuck what was happening to him? He could see Mizuki's face and it was wide open in shock, forehead furrowing and all Sly could do was cry. He could still feel the fingers on his skin, the kiss on his hair and the arms round his middle and fuck he didn't want any of it but he couldn't stand if it went away either. He didn't deserve any of it and that was the worst part. It made him feel like he was worth something and he knew damn well he wasn't. How dare Mizuki make him feel things he didn't want to, things he'd kept buried away for years.

"You're crying."

"And whose fault is that!" He swiped at his eyes angrily, feeling suddenly terrifyingly vulnerable, more than when he fought with people of greater numbers and strength than him, more than when Scratch had pinned him down, more than the second time he'd been drugged and had hallucinated monsters. This was far scarier than all of it.

"I don't think I've ever made you cry before."

"Well get a fucking good look, it'll be the last time you see it." He's trying to sound angry but since he's crying it doesn't really work, and he's crying for such a stupid reason which hardly helps either.

"It's normal to want to be loved, you know."

"Not for me. God, everyone I've ever cared for has left me, and don't say you won't do the same because I don't believe you," Mizuki hadn't even tried to say so, he knows this isn't an argument as much as it is Sly saying things he needs to, and if he has to yell to do it, he won't try to stop him, watching him count the people who've left on his fingers. "My real parents didn't want me, that's obvious, then I got adopted and guess what? They didn't want me either! Then my Grandma gave up, then my twin died, now who do I have left? You. And I already cause you so much trouble we both know this will never work. Even if I wanted it to, it wouldn't because I'm me and eventually you'll get sick of hiding me or having to deal with me or doing everything for me and you'll get sick of me too."

Now this, he objects to, but he should really know by now that he'll be shot down, "no, Sly, you don't-"

"I don't understand? Yes I do! So you love me? So what? That doesn't fix anything! This isn't a movie, love doesn't overcome all, it does nothing except mean it'll hurt more when you realise we aren't practical!"

"What if we were practical?" He's not good at listening to reason, he's not a fan of hypotheticals either, but Mizuki has to try something, and he knows it's a good sign that Sly is still there, swiping his eyes dry and looking frustrated, and small, and very sad.

"Why does it matter? We're not!"

"Pretend, for five minutes, that your reputation improves, or… Hell I don't know, people are okay with you, with us. What then?"

"Then- Then there wouldn't be a problem." He's quietened, and his cheeks are still wet but his anger has seeped out of the cracks in his lip, and he's averted his gaze. "With staying."

"So let's pretend there isn't, just for now, for tonight. You can do that much, right? Just, try not to overthink it. Just let it be."

"That's what I've been trying to do! But it's so hard. I'm so fucking tired, and… And frustrated. All this is happening at once and it's, it's too much, I can't," he pauses and his hands are around his waist tight, wrapping himself up and face exposed as he hitches around his words and starts crying again, shoulders shaking as he stands there, exposed. "I miss my brother."

He wants to get up, to comfort him, but finds a better idea instead, and speaks, and Christ this could be a terrible idea but it's too late now and Sly is already crying so it can hardly get much worse than it is already. "What would he tell you to do, if he were here?"

"Something sappy, probably."

"Like what?"

He doesn't have to think for long, and he's put on this soft, lilting voice that actually manages to take Mizuki by surprise, sounding so weirdly foreign in a mouth more used to cut off insults and retorts so sharp they slice his tongue. "'He's not family, he doesn't have to love you, he chooses to.' He'd tell me not to let that go to waste." He sniffs, wiping at his arms, the echo of his brothers soft voice soothing the tired patches in his mind where thoughts swirl and crash, corralling them into a soft ebb of insecurity and fear. "Fuck, you would have liked him so much."

"I still would have liked you more," Sly laughs then, unsurprised at his cheesy statement and breath catching wetly but with enough of a smile that the bartender feels justified in smiling back, reassuring and fond. "What else would he tell you to do?"

He sighs, seemingly frustrated, rolling his eyes as he speaks, "to let you look after me, since you're apparently an actual saint. To tell you when I'm feeling shitty instead of just being angry instead." He sighs, a fond, wistful smile flitting across his face as he analyses his problems with perfect accuracy, "lots of things, he was good at advice."

"You don't want to follow any of that?"

He shakes his head but it's incredibly half-hearted, wiping at his eyes and feeling the flood of grief sway between bearable and unbearable levels in his chest, settling for smiling teasingly instead. It hurts less when he pretends. "You just want an excuse to try and cuddle again."

"Maybe. You wanna?"

"Never," but he's flopped down on the couch next to Mizuki, tacky face and all, sniffling damply but not objecting to the arm around his shoulders, pulling him into Mizuki's side and wriggling until they're both comfortable. "We're still pretending, right?"

"Of course."

When they go to bed, after re-watching the movie they missed the start of, Mizuki kisses him for a long time and Sly just lets him, hearing his brothers voice in his head and relaxing in the bartenders embrace. Letting himself enjoy the softness for once, to think that okay maybe this is nice, and that maybe he likes Mizuki's hands on him no matter what the context is but that this is so secret and, dare he say, intimate, that it feels even more potent.

Then he moves away so his head is too far down to kiss, and Mizuki figures that's all he's getting, Sly'll grab his customary before-bed cigarette, and that'll be it, but then he speaks into his chest, still curled into him. "You have really big hands."

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome," he ignores the question in his tone and that's such a Sly thing to do that Mizuki just nods and lets the comment slide, knowing if his hand size was a bad thing that he would have mentioned it by now. The bartender tries to lift up a hand to regard it, but Sly grips onto his wrist firmly, keeping it around his waist and making a grumbled noise of protest when he has to stretch a bit to flick the lamp off.

"Goodnight, Sly," he whispers as he worms back under the sheets, burying his nose into his hair, and thinking that this might just be the best night they've ever had.


From his own bed to one a damn sight paler but with undoubtedly less questionable company, light falling in shades of apathetic mid-afternoon over the crisp sheets and crispier scent of antiseptic in the air. It's pervasive, the way these places suck the life out of you while promising to do the exact opposite, a sort of divine hypocrisy, if such a thing could exist on this mortal plane.

Mizuki doesn't know why hospitals always make him feel this way, so small and insignificant and yet so damned self-conscious all at the same time. As if doctors are seeing him pass and noting the slight shake of his hands, like the nurses can see something he can't in the sticky pallor of sweat on his brow, like the patient in the wheel chair, wheezing into an oxygen mask, is running bets in their head.

He loses in every one.

He fights to shake off the feeling that something is wrong here, like the system itself functions only to draw in the sickly and exploit them, like each ward isn't full of people with weak hearts but minds as strong as anyone else's.

There's a horrible sick feeling in his stomach and his head hurts. He wonders if he should stop at the nurse's desk and ask for painkillers then just as easily breezes by because he doesn't want anything killed even if it is for the best.

Koujaku is fine, he's smiling and asks Mizuki how he's doing as if that matters in comparison to his own state. He gets fits of some kind apparently, the doctors are trying to work out a medication for them and he's been recommended a medic alert Allmate that can track and alert him when he's about to fit. He says he's perfectly happy with Beni but there's a dog-eared catalogue on the over-bed table next to his jug of water and his coil, so he's at least considering it. Mizuki says he thinks it's a good idea, to be safe if nothing else, and is surprised when Koujaku says he's been recommended a good model by Noiz, who apparently visits frequently to bother him, remarking with strange, exasperated fondness what a brat he is.

He asks Mizuki to keep an eye on Kou for him, and he agrees easily, offering to do anything he can to help, still not sure what it was he'd done, what he'd seen that had made Koujaku freak out the way he had back in the Junkyards. Conversation falls into more gentle territory then, and there's only five minutes left of visiting hours when the bartender leaves, a hand that for once isn't bandaged squeezing his with strength, teasing that he needs to practice his apple peeling skills.

A voice that asks how Sly is doing and pulls him up short even as a nurse pops her head into the room and says she's very sorry, but he has to leave, he can message Koujaku's coil if he really needs to, but he's been through a lot and needs rest.

He waits til he's home to call, Sly is missing but he knows he planned on returning to his Granny's to get Ren today anyway, so he dials and listens with mild exasperation as Koujaku laughingly apologises for scaring him. Virus and Trip talked about it, apparently, while holding him captive and doing whatever it is he deems not necessary to disclose, says he's surprised but knows Mizuki did always have a habit for seeing the best in people.

His voice is lighter than it would have ever been before this whole kidnapping business, and somehow it encourages Mizuki to talk, to spill and say everything he can't tell Tio, or Sly, or anybody. He tells him secrets, how warm Sly can be, how occasionally affectionate, how he feels fifteen again sometimes and how he still gets butterflies. Koujaku teases, but he listens for a good hour and he seems to be on their side, as much as anybody can be anyway.

When Sly comes back from somewhere that was distinctly not his Granny's, he's hammered but in a good mood, and before Mizuki can even hang up he's got armfuls of whisky scented roommate grinding his knee against his crotch and biting at his neck, making up the weakest excuse to end the call as rapidly as possible.

Sly laughs when they roll off the couch and Mizuki's mouth swallows the sound, kissing it away like he wants to hold that pretty, bubbling eruption of joy right in the centre of his chest where it can be kept safe.


"How'd I look?"

Tio took a moment to regard him, looking up from the inventory he'd been lazily scanning, ticking off what had been in the delivery and circling one item he honestly couldn't recall, it wasn't a standard question and he was so bored he didn't mind pausing to answer.

He didn't look massively different to normal, his hair still trying to escape from it's designated floppy quiff and nothing about his face suggesting he wanted an opinion on anything but his outfit, which admittedly was a little nicer than normal. The jeans had already gartered a lingering stare, looking less worn in than his others and dark wash clinging to his legs far too well, rolled up a couple of times around his ankles and ending in a pair of tan coloured ankle boots, laced loosely. His usual t-shirt and baggy hoodie were missing too, replaced with a checked shirt in dull tones of red looped around his waist, neckline of his white tee frayed in a deliberate way, and the whole look, if it could be called a look, topped off with a black bomber jacket.

This was, of course, all taken in within about three seconds, and commented on in even less, humming and using his excuse to stare a little longer before he spoke, barely thirty seconds having passed since he'd been asked and not long enough yet for Kin to nervously shuffle, shrugging his response into the air between them and returning to his papers.

"I'd fuck you." There was a brief lull of everything then, time, space, whatever, returning gently as Tio realised what he'd said and frowned down at his pen, not entirely sure that had come out how he'd wanted and listening to Kin's polite questioning with nothing but amusement.

"Excuse me?"

"Not- Not like that."

"Oh damn, I thought I'd finally turned you."

"You're hilarious, really. But I meant, like, in terms of the expression? You know, sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror and you're just like, hell yeah, I'd fuck me, I look good today. Like that. You know? It's a thing."

Kin just nodded slowly, mouth creasing into that lopsided smile, thumbs tucked into his pockets and laughing his response with an incline of his head to show he knew Tio hadn't meant what it might seem he had. "Okay, I'm not sure it is, but I'll take it. That's not really what I'm going for though."

"Well, what's it for?"

"Um," here he hesitated, rubbing at the nape of his neck and shifting from foot to foot, looking for all the world like he could be a model feigning a casual attitude on a street corner, Tio not missing the irritating way a slight change of wardrobe was making him notice so much more than usual. "Just dinner with some guys from the team. Just- Um, well I actually only just found out, but apparently it's like a group-date, thing?"

"Oh." His tone was so flat he almost cringed, surprised at how bothered by that he sounded when he was more surprised than anything, having thought…. Well, he didn't know what he'd thought, what was important was that it hadn't been what Kin said.

His reaction hadn't been missed and Kin's hands were fidgeting with the sleeves of the shirt now, adjusting them at his waist and twisting his tee around, unintentionally wrinkling the material. "It's not a big deal, just some girl I met at the hospital, she's friends with Ken's girlfriend apparently so… Guess they saw me talking to her once and thought I was interested or something."

"A girl?"

"Yeah, um, she works in the café. She just said she sees me around a lot and stuff, we got talking and she seemed nice. Didn't really think I'd end up on a group date with her though."

"Hmmm," he lengthened his hum, trying to sound teasing even as he had to admit he'd suddenly been swung for a loop, utterly baffled as to what was happening and why he hadn't even considered that Kin's crush on him didn't make him automatically gay. But Kin was embarrassed so it was easy enough to spread a well-meaning smirk across his face and lean across the counter to tease him, watching his cheeks get pink. "So you do want to look fuckable."

"I mean, she's nice and whatever but she was a bit… Touchy? Like, those girls that touch your arms all the time and stuff, you know?"

"No, I don't." He did. Working in a bar came with a fair amount of misdirected women trying to flirt with him and he knew exactly the type Kin was talking about, but it came out before he realised how cold it was, how passive aggressive and Jesus, he really needed to sort himself out.

"Um, no, I suppose you wouldn't."

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere fancy, just that burger place up past Aoyagi Street, the others suggested it."

"I've heard it's good there, you'll have to tell me how it goes."

"Of course, you'll be the first to know." There was misplaced fondness in his tone, in the gentle crinkle of his eyes and the spattering of freckles across the back of his hand as he adjusted the watch on his wrist, one Tio had never seen before and now realised he'd never wanted to.


Things were going great, until suddenly they weren't and honestly that was an expression Mizuki had been able to use far too many times lately, neatly ducking the plate Sly had taken it upon himself to Frisbee at his head and removing his jacket quietly, hanging it up while he looked for another projectile.

A book this time, not quite moving in time and hard corner whacking into his hip, jarring against the bone and leaving him to wonder, not for the first time today, just what he was meant to have done wrong to earn this barrage.

Days like this made him wonder if this whole thing was worth it, thinking back to the friends he'd just left in the bar, to the couples that had come along for once, to hands held and laughter between them. They certainly wouldn't go home and start flinging about expensive electronics, second hand or otherwise, wincing as Sly's coil was torn off his wrist so fast it left a long, angry red scratch in its wake, thunking against the wall ominously.

"I was at my fucking Granny's, asshole! You don't have to send me like fifty messages asking where I am!"

"I sent four."

"Four too many! What am I, some pet to you? God, Amaya has more fucking freedom than I do, you don't freak out when she doesn't come home for a couple of hours."

"Nobody's going to try and drug her, or stab her, or beat the shit out of her."

"Nobody's going to do that to me either! I went to see my Granny, make sure she was eating because, you know, her Grandson fucking died, and I'm trying to be nice for once and make sure she's okay and my fucking coil won't shut the fuck up!"

He concedes defeat because honestly, it's easier and it's clear Sly hasn't even read the messages, if he had he certainly wouldn't have felt all this abuse necessary, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. How's she doing?"

"No! You're not meant to apologise when I'm being an asshole!" Mizuki honestly suddenly feels so done that he can't help what slips out of his mouth next, muttering it but not conscious enough of how quiet the apartment is other than Amaya mewling up at them pitifully, so of course, Sly hears.

"You're not even trying."

He looks indignant, angry, maybe even a little hurt under the clear insult he took the words as, making a visible effort to keep his tone calm if not a little barbed as he speaks. "Have I disappeared?"

"What?"

"Have I fucking disappeared?"

"What, Sly, no-"

"No. I haven't. I'm still fucking here so don't you dare tell me I'm not trying," he's advanced on him now, jabbing a sharp finger into his chest and Mizuki wishes that just for once, he could return from work and not have to deal with this. "Just because you can't see it doesn't mean I'm not. If I wasn't I would have left days ago, I would never have come in the first place so shut your stupid, superior mouth and leave me the fuck alone!"

They're both stubborn, but Mizuki has grown tired of this faster than he'd expected and he sighs, pushing Sly away so he can start collecting up chunks of broken plate, really wishing he could just leave Sly alone and knowing he can't. "You're trying, I know that, I'm just sick of us arguing."

"You think I'm not? I don't like yelling at you, but when you do dumb shit like this it's hard not to."

"Mm-hm," he's ignoring Sly and he's never been the biggest fan of that, opening his mouth to demand the attention he feels he deserves, but Mizuki speaks over him and that is as close to suicidal as he can get. "Would you at least read the messages before you yell at me next time?"

Silence falls and Mizuki doesn't see the point in turning to see Sly's face as his coil clicks open with a soft, familiar chime, focused on gathering up pottery shards and dumping them into the bin, deciding the book can wait to have its pages unbent where it had been savagely flung into his side. There's a pair of legs at his side as he cuts his finger on a small chunk, and it takes until the blood droplet falls to the floor for Sly to say anything, but when he does, it's nothing he might have expected.

"Granny told me not to visit for a while. Said I remind her too much of him. I would have yelled no matter what was in the messages."

He still doesn't want to look, he can see Sly nervously playing with his hands in the corner of his vision and that's apology enough, watching the twitchy wringing of pale fingers and nodding slowly, "because you're angry?"

"Not at you. But yeah. Because I'm angry."

"And the messages?"

"You do realise you're bleeding?"

"It's fine," he hears Sly scoff and he disappears out of sight, he probably wants to be alone after being told something so brutal by his only remaining family and Mizuki understands that, so he starts when he returns with both dustpan & brush, and the first-aid kit. "It's not that big a cut."

"Shut up." He's just as sweet as always and Mizuki just rolls his eyes in amusement as he roughly dabs his finger clean with a cotton bud, revealing a small flap of broken skin that will be healed in a couple of days. "I want Chinese food, and you can pick a movie but no soppy shit, alright?"

"Sure."

"And if one of the ice-creams is cookie dough, you're eating it, that shit is gross."

"Okay." His voice is so fond he can see Sly almost visibly recoiling as he unwraps a plaster and sticks it around his finger, not caring much to be gentle in his movements, blood blooming across the fabric immediately but not seeping out. He seems to deem it acceptable, though he keeps Mizuki's hand in his lap for a little too long, voice softer with what it turns out is nostalgia, or maybe grief.

"When I was little and got hurt, my brother used to kiss it. Said it would stop it hurting." He's a hopeless romantic, he already knows that, and the idea that Sly might follow his twin's advice and kiss his finger better is too precious for him to realise that it would never happen. His hand is abruptly dumped out of Sly's lap and a lighter roars in the second after he speaks, "never worked though."


"How'd the date go?"

"Aha," his laugh was uncomfortable more than anything else and the way he raised his eyebrows reassured Tio instantly that it can't have been good, watching his cheeks intently as if expecting an incriminating blush that didn't come. "Pretty much a disaster."

"That sucks, how come?" Nothing in his tone was genuine but Kin didn't seem to notice, sitting down opposite him, back in his normal clothes, baggy hoodie and jeans worn light with wear and too many hot washes.

"Well the girl's nice, I guess, too touchy though. She made me kinda uncomfortable to be honest, and the others were in their own world so, it got a little awkward."

"Hm, doesn't sound that bad."

"Nah, that wasn't so bad, I could have dealt with that, eaten food, made conversation then just fobbed her off or whatever. But um, halfway through my ex showed up. So, that was really awkward."

"Your ex?"

"Mm. I haven't seen him in a while, probably over a year, I'm not really sure." He shrugged, but he looked uncomfortable suddenly, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and fingers trailing up and down the condensed side of his energy drink can. "Just awkward, you know? Seeing an ex."

"I guess so. You gunna see the girl again?"

"Nah, I don't think so, I don't think she was very into it either," and somehow, Tio feels immediately better, for reasons he doesn't care to think about.


"Kin!" He tensed so hard, so drastically that Tio could feel the air between them tighten with animosity, turning to regard the figure running towards them, pausing when he reached them and smile too wide to be anything but hungry. His eyes roamed across Tio so absently he was almost offended, gaze dropping off as if he'd estimated him as no threat, focusing on the solid tower of nervousness beside him. "Hey, haven't seen you in a while, you're looking good."

"You saw me last week."

"Oh that barely counted, besides, it was dark in there, I couldn't see you properly," Tio's still trying to work out who the hell this guy is, growing more confused and feeling a spike of protectiveness as he beams up at his companion with dazzlingly perfect teeth. "You been working out?"

"A bit."

"Hm, I can tell. So, what have you been up to?" He didn't leave any time for Kin to even try and answer, but he seemed to be expecting that and didn't so much as part his lips to respond, seemingly knowing exactly when his time to speak actually was. "I heard you joined Dry Juice, apparently your cocktail routine is to die for, I might have to come check it out one time."

"I can't stop you."

"Awh, when did you get so cold? We used to be so close, I'm just trying to be friends again, like in the good old days." He's the ex, it clicks suddenly and all Tio's jealous thoughts of how damned attractive this guy is, magnify tenfold, immediately developing a massive dislike of everything about him, from his perfect, wavy brown hair, to his big brown eyes.

"They weren't that good," Tio had never heard Kin so subdued, shrugging one shoulder half-heartedly and shifting his weight nervously, shoulders pulled down as if trying to make himself smaller, muttering as if he didn't want to be heard.

He sounds so uncomfortable under the others flattery, hell, he looks uncomfortable, and Tio really doesn't like that, possessive instincts kicking in and speaking without really thinking it through, as it seems he's increasingly prone to doing these days. "Why don't you just leave him alone? It's obvious he doesn't want to talk to you."

There's a beat of silence and Kin squirms beside him, seemingly not enjoying the fact his discomfort has been made so obvious but not making any effort to tell Tio to stop either, he seems torn even as his so far nameless ex twists his momentary expression of sheer contempt into a pretty mask instead.

"Dude, I'm sorry but you got me wrong, I'm not trying to get in the way of whatever's going on here." There was definite malice in his expression even as he laughed and waved his hands disarmingly, seeming charmingly apologetic to anybody who wasn't well versed in the way these people wormed into your psyche. "You two are cute by the way, how long you been together?"

"We're not together," this was Kin, and he suddenly didn't seem put off at all by the lies spewing from that prettily falsified smile, just answering calmly and glancing at Tio out the corner of his eye like he might a dog about to snap. Animosity was coming off him in waves, but the ex didn't even flinch, smile not nasty but something about his eyes too cunning and calculating to allow Tio to relax. "What do you want?"

"Always so blunt, Ki-Ki."

"You're not allowed to call me that, Kurosawa." The last name slipped out with deliberate intent, the man stood opposite them just pretending to pout in sadness a blind man could identify as being nothing but false. Kin standing tall suddenly, as if the very action of distancing himself had solidified something inside him, "we have to go, we've got work."

They don't have work, it's the middle of the day and even without Tio's confused expression, the ex doesn't seem stupid enough to fall for such a dumb lie. Sensible enough to pretend to though.

"Aw, okay, I'll drop in one night to see you. Have a good shift," his wave was aimed right at Tio and he didn't miss the challenge in his eyes even as he smiled innocently and walked away humming a light-hearted tune.

"So. That was the ex, what did you think?" He's lit a cigarette and now Tio knows how uncomfortable he is, because he's not a big smoker, only when he's really stressed or worried about something does he bother to light up and the second, the very second his ex has walked off, there's a cigarette in his mouth.

"I feel really weird. Is he always like that? So… I don't know, intense?"

"Pretty much, you just need to ignore everything he says, especially about me." His voice is hard again and neither of them are used to hearing that tone, Tio's expression of unease faltering into one of concern as he glances over at his friend, who has started walking without him.

"What would he say?"

"Nothing you should believe. Come on, these snacks aren't going to buy themselves."

They walk in silence for a while, but Tio feels uncomfortable and Kin still hasn't relaxed his shoulders properly, only really making things worse with his question but so curious and incredulous that he can't resist.

"He called you Ki-Ki?"

"When he wanted something, yeah." Tio had been teasing, but Kin's tone is serious and his smile drops away as fast as the subject does.


He glances up as somebody slides into the booth opposite him, surprised as he knows the place isn't crowded enough to warrant the need for a stranger to share his table, the other speaks the second they make eye contact and he's too stupidly polite to immediately leave like he wants to.

"Kin! Fancy seeing you here."

"Are you following me?" He doesn't realise how horrified by the idea he is until he speaks and there's genuine paranoia in his words, glancing round as if looking for a camera crew about to jump out and yell that this has all been an elaborate prank. But there's only Taichi sat opposite him, cheeks hollowed as he sucks his drink up through a straw, looking at him through honey brown eyes under long lashes and laughing as he swallows and shakes his head as if he's being ridiculous.

"No, of course not! I just wanted a milkshake and you know this place is the best on the island." He knows what he's drinking without needing to ask, the double cookie milkshake, a disgusting monstrosity of vanilla and chocolate swirled milkshake, mixed with crumbled cookies and topped with an obscene amount of cream. He also knows this is and always was his favourite place for milkshakes, so he can't argue his perfectly realistic reason for their accidental meeting. That doesn't mean he likes it though.

"Hm, so is there something you want?"

"I guess so… Seeing you made me think about a lot of things, I know I was an ass when we were together, and I took you for granted. I just wanted to apologise, I made a mistake and hurt you, I know that now, and that was sucky of me." Kin scoffed, rolling his eyes and staring across the table at him, not even sure if this was one of his rehearsed techniques or not because it sounded so genuine. He looks nervous now, his hand is inching across the table to poke at Kin's, and when it's allowed he takes it carefully, squeezing in apology and looking genuinely rueful. "I thought maybe we could be friends again?"

"Just friends?"

"I mean, I wouldn't mind more, we were great together." Both hands are on his now, milkshake abandoned to melt and that alone is almost proof of how sincere this atonement is, Kin feeling a pang of nostalgia in his chest at the stupid, stick-and-poke tattoo on Taichi's thumb, a tiny smiley face.

"Hm, we weren't bad."

"See? Oh come on, you gotta admit you missed us too. We were like, a power couple," he talks like they were island-famous, like they were really something amazing and Kin remembers all the good times now, suddenly feeling like he's been pretending they didn't happen for too long. "It doesn't help that you've only gotten hotter."

"I didn't do it for you." But the blatant compliment only makes him blush, those honey eyes on his face making him melt the way they always used to and okay, maybe things could be patched up, he's missed him, he considers for a minute, missed having somebody to hold hands with.

"No, but I appreciate it anyway."

"You always were a smooth talker."

"Awh, you're nostalgic already, Ki-Ki!" When Taichi grins, Kin does too, but this time it doesn't feel false.


They're hanging out at Kin's, the small window in his living room not doing much to help the trapped heat in the place, and Tio's almost debating taking his shirt off before he completely soaks it with sweat, when Kin emerges from his bedroom with two tops, brandishing them almost nervously. "Which ones better?"

"You got another date?"

"Mm-hm."

"Blue one." He doesn't hesitate to answer, nodding his beer bottle towards it and taking another swig that doesn't cool him down much, frowning because there's tension in broad shoulders and something suddenly feels wrong in the atmosphere between them. "Who's it with? The girl again? Thought she was a bit much?"

He ignored him, or at least he deigned not to answer, unfolding a battered looking ironing board instead and turning his back on him, Tio growing suspicious as he didn't answer easily, his pretence that the mere idea doesn't annoy him dying and tone insistent. "Kin, who's your date with?"

"Um, it's er, with Taichi."

He frowns, because he has no idea who that is, and considering Kin is apparently on first name terms with them and they exist within the same friendship circle, that sounds odd, "who?"

"Oh, right, Kurosawa."

"That's pretty funny, but no seriously, who's it with?" He laughs, choking and bubbles go up his nose, grimacing and unable to see Kin's expression and how stoic its remaining, how he obviously isn't lying even though what he's saying is ridiculous.

"Kurosawa."

If this is a joke it isn't funny anymore and he's getting annoyed that Kin might think this is an acceptable topic to joke about, instead of an incredibly sensitive one, lowering his beer onto his bare knee and tone so stern he hates himself a little. "Okay, you're misunderstanding how jokes work, you make the same one twice in a row and have it still be funny."

"I'm not joking."

"Kin, are you seriously going on a date with your lunatic ex?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking it might work this time." He's hiding, not literally of course, but he's concealing himself behind the ironing board and the shirt he calmly begins easing the creases out of, movements of the iron gentle and soft even as his arms are rigid with tension.

"Why? It didn't last time, you broke up for a reason."

"Yeah, and you don't even know what that is." They're on the verge of an argument and neither will back down because Kin thinks Tio is being too protective and Tio thinks Kin is making a terrible decision. In a way, maybe they're both right.

"Because he was a liar and kinda insane!"

"I never said that."

"Yes you did! I have the messages!" He brandishes his coil like a weapon, like they're up in court and it's indisputable proof, about to unlock it and prove himself right when Kin continues, knowing full well what he'd said and not wanting to be reminded.

"It doesn't matter, he apologised, alright? We were together for nearly two years, that's kinda a big deal and I'm sorry if I think that maybe we made a mistake breaking up."

Two years. Tio's taken aback at that because that, in his book at least, counts as long term and he'd imagined more of a fling, maybe six months at most, so to find out they'd had a serious, long relationship leaves him feeling oddly unsettled, like he's afloat at sea and has just lost his life-jacket.

But he bounces back fast and even he can recognise that he's being unreasonable, childish, that it's painfully obvious how jealous he is in the acidic tone of his voice as he accuses, "funny how you never thought that til you saw him again and he got into your head."

"You're being pretty weird about this."

"Of course I am! The guy's a snake, I don't want him anywhere near you." He's stood up but he's not at all sure what for, to put them on a more even playing field he supposes, though Kin still has a good foot on him, not to mention a red hot iron should he get really pissed off at him.

"A snake? That's pretty petty."

"Oh, I'm being petty, am I? I'm so sorry, please, go on a date with the asshole, it's not like he's an ex for a reason." God, he sounds like Sly and for a second his heart stills in his throat because this is what he always tries to avoid but he has to stop him going somehow and this is the only way he can think of, closing his eyes for a second because he can't let himself get angry.

Kin, it seems, does not have the same mind-set, slamming down the iron so hard the board quakes and threatens to give way, eyes burning suddenly and any false calm completely gone, expression hard and firing words at him without considering the exit wounds.
"You cannot say a single thing about exes when you still hang around Mizuki like a pig on shit!"

The tension is so harsh Tio can't even bring himself to feel guilty when Kin's neighbour starts banging on the wall so they'll shut up, just grabbing his jacket with hurt and anger swirling in equal measure in his gut.

"Who's being petty now, asshole?" And with that, he slammed the door, earning other round of yells from next door and having to fight the urge to scream back at him to just shut the fuck up, jogging down the stairs as if Kin would even follow him.

The message pings through only about ten minutes later, but he waits until his temper has calmed down a little before opening it, stalking through the streets and alleyways of the island on the longest route home ever.

6:29 From- #1Loser

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I won't go if you don't want me to.

It's supposed to placate him, he supposes, to be as reasonable and considerate as he always is but somehow it just makes his blood boil because why the fuck does he always have to be such a damn martyr? He's pressed the call button before he even registers it and there's so much acrid frustration on his tongue that he doesn't even let Kin speak before he's launched into a tirade in the middle of the street.

"What does me not wanting you to, have anything to do with it? I'm not your fucking keeper, you can do what you want, I just didn't think you were stupid enough to agree to something so idiotic!"

"I'm not talking to you like this."

"Like what? Kin? I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt here, I'm sorry if me caring so much bothers you! I'll just leave you to fuck up your life, how's that? Feel better now?"

He hears the sigh and it's exasperated and upset in equal measure but he can barely hear it over the pounding of self-righteous blood in his head, "I don't get why you're so angry about this. You said it yourself, I can do what I like."

His tone is infinitely reasonable even now, with Tio yelling down the phone at him like he's done something terrible, "I'm not angry, I don't get angry. I'm- Fuck, Kin, it was bad enough when you went out with that girl, now your ex too? You told me the guy was awful, and now you've done a 180, how am I meant to react?"

"I don't know. Look, if this is going to make things weird between us I won't go."

"There's nothing to make weird."

"Yet already we're arguing. Just- You can't-"

He's hesitating and God damn it Tio is pissed, spitting into the phone and an old lady on the other side of the road shooting him a glare he doesn't care about, "would you just say it?"

"Fine, you can't refuse to date me or whatever then go mental because I want to see somebody else. It's not fair, okay? If you want me for yourself just say so, because to be honest, this waiting is beginning to get exhausting."

That was an ultimatum, only made more drastic when Kin hung up on him before he could even choke out a question, though he had no idea what it might be, stopped in the middle of Aoyagi street like a lunatic while people passed him without so much as sparing a glance. Something in his chest was so cold it burnt, lips parting and the sticky feeling of shame flooding him as he stood there, shoulders getting jostled by an impatient group of teenagers and just staring at his coil like the time display in the right hand corner might suddenly shift back twenty minutes.

It takes a while to sink in, the fact that he's utterly fucked, that is, and when it does he follows his idiotic gut and makes a second phone call, diverting his route to a small apartment in the opposite direction to his own.

It's a short exchange, it always is and he's grateful for a lack of questions, "hey, Yuu, got any plans for tonight?"

"Nope, I'm free!"

"Wanna get drunk?"

"Always, come over, Kouhaku's out."

"Alright, see you in fifteen."

He downs his beer too fast to be okay and it's obvious as Yuu locks the door and settles down on the couch beside him, offering over the ash tray, "something happen?"

"Don't wanna talk about it," he answers briefly, and Yuu looks concerned for a second before he uncaps a beer and opens a familiar app on his phone, entering their names and picking a card from the displayed circle.

"Drink two sips."

When Kouhaku comes home he looks remarkably unimpressed about the beer bottles all over their coffee table, but just rolls his eyes and puts a distinctly wasted Yuu to bed, making sure Tio will be fine getting home and trying to get him to sober up long enough to promise to message when he gets home.

He doesn't get said message, but then again, Tio doesn't go home.


He has no idea what time it is, but the lights in the hallways are on, plus the building is quieter than normal which, in such a packed location, means it has to be midnight or later. But the door still eases open and he comes face to blurry face with Kin, stood in his pyjamas, pants a little too short and thin cotton flapping around his ankles, tone emotionless as he addresses him.

"Tio."

"I'm sorry I was an ass. I didn't mean to be." That is absolutely not what he'd intended to say, but he's drunk as hell and his last cigarette has just burned out in his fingers without him taking a single drag, so he can't bring himself to be too bothered.

He doesn't answer, just stares past him towards the darkened sky, sighing quietly as he notices he's swaying on his feet and stepping aside to let him in, "you should come in. You been drinking?"

"Mm, with Yuu."

"Okay, why?"

"Just felt like being drunk, I guess." Kin nods, but the noise he makes is sympathetic and perhaps a little sad, hearing the down-trodden lilt to Tio's voice and fetching him a glass of water and his last slice of bread, badly buttered, in an attempt to sober him up.

Kin puts on the TV, some crappy reality show neither of them care about, and they sit side by side in the dimly lit room together, Tio munching on the bread and swaying whenever he closes his eyes, and Kin keeping an eye on him and not bringing up what happened earlier.

But he's drunk and feeling something strange, lonely or sad or whatever, and Kin is right there and with the warm fuzz over his senses, kissing him seems like a good idea, so suddenly he was kissing him and Kin was letting him and of course he was because Kin really liked him and he was just a shitty friend who was taking advantage of that.

But he pulled away then and the hand in his hair disappeared and so did the one on his hip and he could feel blue eyes staring at him, asking a question he couldn't answer and suddenly he feels terrible and it's not just because of the beers sloshing around in his gut.

"That- That was a fucking stupid idea. Sorry."

"It's okay."

"No. No it's not. God, all I can do is make mistake after fucking mistake."

"Not everything has to be a mistake," it took a while for that to register but oh god Kin's been drinking too, he can taste it on his breath and there's vodka on the TV stand, and he'd actually wanted this for more than selfish reasons, kissing him again and Tio not sure whether to stop him or go along with it because fuck he liked kissing and he liked being close to somebody like this. But Kin was the wrong person and this wouldn't end well for either of them and he was sick of hurting people's feelings.

"No- Kin, don't. Don't. Please don't."

"Why not?"

He's confused, because why not? Why isn't he okay with this? He can't quite recall and he doesn't know if it's because he's drunk or because there's never been a reason he can justify even to himself. "Cause we're friends. Friends aren't meant to do that."

"Friends?"

"Yeah. Friends," and he knew he was drunk already but he felt his eyes begin to burn and grow damp, excusing himself to the bathroom because he wouldn't cry in front of Kin and not even when he didn't know why he was crying, it was stupid, he was stupid. So he cried over nothing in the bathroom instead and if Kin noticed when he re-emerged he didn't say anything, just listened to him apologise like a guilty child.

He didn't argue with Kin when he insisted 3am was too late to be walking anywhere, and especially with how drunk he was, Tio just nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted as Kin found him a blanket and pillow and set him up on the couch.

He leaves before Kin wakes up.