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The clock was gone. Uenoyama rarely looked at it anyway, so its absence wasn’t glaring, and if it made Mafuyu feel better, he was glad to be rid of it. Without the constant ticking, the room was quiet; if he stopped breathing, he could hear the dull thudding of his heartbeat in his ears. Or maybe it was Mafuyu’s, lying next to him. Sometimes it was hard to figure out where he stopped and Mafuyu began.
Mafuyu had fallen asleep on Uenoyama’s bed. Their session with Akihiko and Haruki had gone later than expected, and Uenoyama’s house was closer to school anyway, so they both decided it was better for Mafuyu to stay the night than make the trip home. They had set their guitars down next to Uenoyama’s bedroom door, book bags left at the foot of the bed; there was a new melody that Uenoyama wanted Mafuyu to hear, so he had fished around his desk drawer for his headphones. By the time they were hooked up, Uenoyama had turned around to offer an earbud but Mafuyu had landed face first into the pillow and fell right asleep. It seemed cruel to wake him, after he’s been working so hard at his part-time job, with the band, and keeping up with his studies, so Uenoyama quietly sat on his bedroom floor with the earbuds alone. He listened to his composition for a little while, played it a few times, made some adjustments on his notes, and turned it off.
The apartment itself was peaceful – Yayoi had gone out with some friends for the night, so it was just the two of them. No TV blaring from the living room, no Yayoi chatting on the phone to her friends, no guitar playing, no music. Uenoyama didn’t remember the last time he experienced such quiet before, but it was nice. It made him a little restless, fingers itching to do something to fill it, but he sat cross legged on his bedroom floor, back to the bed, and gingerly put his head back to rest on Mafuyu’s arm. Uenoyama closed his eyes and listened to nothing, happy to feel Mafuyu behind him.
At some point in the night, Uenoyama felt his arm being shaken; he’d fallen asleep without meaning to. His left leg was bent at an odd angle, pins and needles snaking up his calf into his thigh, and there was some drool near the crook of his elbow where his arm had stretched on the edge of the bed.
“Wha– ?”
“Uenoyama-kun,” Mafuyu whispered. “I fell asleep before you did. You fell asleep on the floor.”
Uenoyama rubbed his eyes, feeling the beginning of a tinge in his neck from sleeping at a weird angle, and stood up with creaking limbs. “Hold on. Can’t sleep in jeans,” he grumbled. With eyes half-closed, Uenoyama changed into a light t-shirt and sweatpants, yawned several times, and slid into the open covers Mafuyu held open for him. Mafuyu made himself comfortable while Uenoyama had slept, so the bed was warm with sleep. Uenoyama shuffled into a comfortable spot, and without thinking, searched for Mafuyu’s hand under the pillow, twining their fingers together once he did. Mafuyu, unsure but yearning, tentatively moved closer to Uenoyama, letting his legs tangle with Uenoyama’s and his free hand rest between them so that his fingers brushed Uenoyama’s t-shirt.
Both Mafuyu and Uenoyama began to drift off, comfortable in their shared silence, until Mafuyu opened his eyes, just a fraction. Something had been missing when he came into the bedroom earlier that night, but he was too tired to place it and fell asleep before giving it a second thought. Now that it was dark, Mafuyu could hear Uenoyama’s deep breaths, the rustle of a piece of paper from wind by the open window, and an occasional car on the street in the distance. The blankets rustled beneath them as Uenoyama adjusted, but it was calm. It was such a small change, but Mafuyu noticed it.
The clock was gone.
There was no ticking, no slight whirring of the gears beneath the metal frame, no tinkling behind the glass face. No clock.
Mafuyu tilted his head to look at the space above the door frame, eyes open wide now that he had noticed the difference. There was the briefest outline of where the clock had been, the dust that had settled over it leaving an impression on the wall, but he was right: it wasn’t there. Uenoyama hadn’t replaced it with a different one, just took it out entirely. A small digital clock sat on his desk, gleaming with soft blue numbers, but the clock was gone.
Something like relief mixed with sadness, longing, and grief muddled in Mafuyu’s chest as he stared at the empty space. He remembered the first time he stayed over at Uenoyama’s that night, what it felt like to see that clock. He had said something weird, that it was the same clock in Yuki’s house, but Uenoyama wasn’t mad. Mafuyu hadn’t expected him to be mad, but he did expect something else, something like…jealousy, or hurt, or betrayal. A feeling that would make sense in a situation like that. Instead, Uenoyama was hurt, but not for himself, for Mafuyu. He was hurting because Mafuyu was hurting, that something as simple as a clock could remind him of all that he had lost. Uenoyama never made Mafuyu feel like he had to move on or get over his best friend — he was just there for him. Always supporting, always uplifting, always listening and understanding without ever asking for anything. Uenoyama never asked Mafuyu for anything, just that he tried his best to communicate what he needed. And sometimes, Mafuyu didn’t even have to communicate, Uenoyama would just know.
That was real, true, honest love. And as he stared at the empty space above the door frame where Yuki’s clock used to be, Mafuyu squeezed Uenoyama’s hand under the pillow, grateful to have fallen in love with someone so kind.
“Wazza matter?”
Uenoyama’s sleepy response pulled Mafuyu out of his thoughts and back to the pillow. Mafuyu settled back down, this time a little closer, letting his face bury into Uenoyama’s chest as his free hand wrapped around his middle.
“The clock is gone,” Mafuyu whispered. He felt Uenoyama go a little stiffer beneath him, and he was about to apologize for mentioning it, but stopped when he felt Uenoyama’s arm wrap around him and pull him closer.
“Got rid of it,” Uenoyama shrugged, face half buried in the pillow. “I didn’t want you to feel like you did when you were here before. I know it was difficult for you to see last time. Wanted to give you a free space, I guess.”
Mafuyu tiled his head up to look at Uenoyama, whose eyes were still closed. Part of the side of his mouth that wasn’t in the pillow was turned slightly downward, and Mafuyu knew that to be Uenoyama’s sign of worry. “Free space?”
“Yeah like…” Uenoyama shrugged halfheartedly. “S’where you can be without having to feel so…heavy, I guess. Where you could be without being reminded. Free space.”
If hearts could swell, Mafuyu’s would’ve burst a long time ago, and if it hadn’t, it would’ve burst right then.
“Is that oka —“ Uenoyama began to lift his head and ask, but was interrupted by a swift kiss. Mafuyu pressed against Uenoyama, disentangling their hands under the pillow so both hands could be on Uenoyama’s face. Uenoyama let out a small noise of surprise before closing his eyes, letting his body roll onto his back as Mafuyu laid across his chest, his hands on Mafuyu’s waist.
They broke apart, and when Uenoyama looked up, Mafuyu’s eyes had gone glassy. Uenoyama tried to sit up a little straighter, gripping Mafuyu’s waist. “Sorry, was that a bad thing to do? I could go out and buy another one. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about how that would make you feel, I didn’t — “
“Ritsuka.”
His first name. Mafuyu never used his first name.
There is a cafe down the street, not too far from Uenoyama’s apartment. In the spring when it starts to get warm, they open the front doors and put tables and chairs outside for patrons to enjoy the weather. In the summer, they leave the front door open and hang wind chimes at the entrance, so that the warm breeze can provide a happy sound to their customers. Uenoyama always loved that wind chime; it wasn’t too loud, or too obnoxious. It was light and airy and made the inside of his chest feel like floating.
Hearing Mafuyu call him by his first name gave Uenoyama that same feeling of those summer wind chimes. In the quiet of the night, he could feel the cool breeze blow in from his open window, and his heart leapt into his throat.
Mafuyu had only ever called Yuki by his first name. Hiragi and Shizusumi sometimes too, just to see what it would be like, what kind of reaction he could get, but never with the same meaning like when he used Yuki’s name. This was only the second time he’d ever used a boyfriend’s first name that he was so in love with, so overcome with emotion that it was the only natural thing to do. It felt good on his tongue to say. Ritsuka. So much shorter than “Uenoyama.” Clearer. A name that would make anyone stop in their tracks.
“Ritsuka,” Mafuyu whispered.
Again. Again. Again. That’s all Uenoyama could think as he listened to Mafuyu call his name.
“Ritsuka,” Mafuyu said again, a little bit stronger, more confident. “I don’t care about the clock.”
Uenoyama searched Mafuyu’s face. His eyes were still glassy, but he was smiling. Uenoyama could feel Mafuyu’s fingers on his cheeks, feel his thumbs slowly move across his skin, flowers blooming in their wake.
“You don’t?”
Mafuyu gently shook his head, a tear making its escape. “I don’t.”
Without thinking, Uenoyama's hand left Mafuyu’s waist to wipe the tear away and stayed there, Mafuyu nuzzling into his palm. It reminded him of when he went to visit Mafuyu after he’d fallen ill. He’d had a cool compress on his forehead to help with the fever, and had looked for comfort in Uenoyama’s touch then, too.
Uenoyama’s voice was thick when he spoke, quiet and cautious. “Then why?”
“Because I’m happy.”
Wind chimes clattered in Uenoyama’s chest, his heartbeat thudding against his ribcage. How could he ever not be in love with Sato Mafuyu?
Before he could think, Uenoyama tugged Mafuyu’s face down and kissed him, soft and tender. Mafuyu’s grip on Uenoyama’s face tightened, and the two fell back against the pillows, feeling like anchors and clouds and wind chimes and summer breezes.
They kissed until they forgot about clocks, lips swollen and hair mussed, kissed while Uenoyama tickled Mafuyu until he called him Ritsuka again. Kissed until their eyes were dropping and their hearts were filling and kissed until they couldn’t anymore.
“Mafuyu, say it again,” whispered Uenoyama, drifting off to sleep.
There was a brief pause, and Uenoyama almost fell asleep without hearing it, but he caught it just in time.
“I love you, Rituska.”