Chapter Text
After they part ways Kidou takes the train back to the Tokyo suburb he lives in and then walks from the train station to his apartment building and then up the stairs and into his apartment and into his room and onto his bed and then he buries his face in the pillow and screams. He instantly feels foolish—and has to stop halfway through to take off his goggles, because they’re digging into the bridge of his nose—but there are so many emotions rattling around in his heart and lungs and ribcage and throat and mouth and lips and my god he’d kissed Endou Mamoru like he’s dreamed of for years, kissed him multiple times, that he can’t help it. He presses his face into the pillow and muffles another incoherent yell, then judges that he’s done sufficiently enough of screaming out his feelings that he can be done with that foolishness, and then paces about fifty circuits around the room methodically going through every last detail that proves he didn’t dream it, isn’t still dreaming.
After that he picked up his phone to text Haruna, puts it down because she doesn’t need to know about that, picks it up again because she does, everyone needs to know, the whole world needs to know that Endou kissed him and kissed him again and again and again and smiled at him afterwards, except what is he thinking Kidou would never bare his guarded and armored heart to the world like that except for Endou. Except for Endou. Anyway this was about texting Haruna. He texts her Something very good happened. and then wanders away from the phone, leaving her answering inquiry on read, to go make himself a cup of tea with shaking hands. The tea is warm like Endou’s mouth. It’s sweet like Endou’s lips.
Kidou puts down the tea and buries his face in his hands and gives a long ragged exhale. Tries to get ahold of himself. Fails.
He doesn’t get much sleep that night, staring up at the ceiling like he’s fourteen and freshly fallen in love again, caught up in the simple warmth and exuberance and offered friendship of a boy with warm brown eyes. Like he’s falling in love all over again, and again and again and again.
***
The next morning he works up the courage to text Endou first thing in the morning—We should talk before work.
Endou shows up to his own office bearing a container of convenience store yakisoba. “Breakfast,” he explains, snapping open his chopsticks and popping the lid open. “You wanted to talk?”
“Yes,” says Kidou, sitting at the chair opposite the diminutive desk as Endou takes his seat. His heart is suddenly in his throat. “About yesterday evening.”
“Oh, right, that,” says Endou meditatively. “Because we kissed, and all that.”
“Yes,” agrees Kidou again. Heart pounding, he says, “I want to be sure… that… we are both on the same page, here. In situations like this, it’s easy for miscommunications to flourish.”
“Okay,” says Endou easily, “but what is there to miscommunicate? I liked kissing you. I’d like to do it more often.”
Kidou’s hands are folded in front of him on the desk; he has to clench them hard and white-knuckled together for a moment as his only outlet for the fervent rush of emotion that overcomes him at those words. I liked kissing you, Endou said. I’d like to do it more often. Kidou could spend an eternity listening to him saying that.
“Me, too,” he says, and it comes out sounding to him like a comical understatement; he stumbles uncharacteristically over his next words. “I would… I’d also, like to, more. As well.”
“Awesome,” says Endou, beaming at him, “so we’re all set, then,” and goes back to his yakisoba. Amazing how it can be so simple for him, when for Kidou the difficult part is still to come.
“Actually, I wanted to discuss it more than this,” he says, and Endou blinks questioningly at him with noodles dangling from his mouth. God, Kidou loves him. He has to take a moment to sort through his next words. “As I said, in situations like this, it’s… easy for two people to want different things from each other, without realizing it. Such lack of communication could lead to disaster later, and I want to avoid anything that could jeopardize our—” Stumble, again. “—our friendship. Even if these things feel simple to you, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Oh, okay, no problem,” says Endou, swallowing, and leans back thoughtfully in his chair. “What we want from each other, huh… Well, I meant it when I said I want to kiss you again. I guess that means we’d be dating each other?” He fishes through his yakisoba with the chopsticks, pulls out a piece of cabbage and sets it aside on the container lid. “Sorry—to me dating is just sort of like being really good friends that kiss each other, which is what we’d be. But, I feel like some people think of dating as more than that? So I’m not so sure about that part, or how good I’d be at it. But I do want to kiss you again, and often.” He smiles over at Kidou, as if the world is really just that simple. “I wish I’d started doing so sooner, really.”
Kidou wants so badly to lean over the table and kiss him again. Instead he says, quietly, “I need to be clear here. I…” Endou blinks at him in curiosity. “…like you a great deal, Endou.” His heart thumps in his chest. “I don’t want to ask more of you than you can offer. But whatever you offer, I will gladly accept.”
“…Right,” says Endou, brightly, but in a tone that suggests that he’s not really following.
“I would like to date you,” Kidou clarifies. His stomach does a somersault at saying the words, in a kind of elated disbelief. “In whatever form that might take.”
“Yesssss,” says Endou happily, as if he’s just scored a personal victory, as if Kidou isn’t watching all his secret close-kept dreams come true right before his eyes.