Work Text:
Cicadas are really fucking loud.
Lying facedown on the wooden floor, Shin almost misses the incessant jumble of thoughts that comes along with the bustle of city crowds, sweat beading on his nape. Sunlight streams through the open doors, casting distorted shapes on his prone body from where it reflects off the crashing waves. Of course, he almost misses it because it’s simply been replaced by the incessant thoughts of beach crowds, with the added side of bugs trying to get freaky, he supposes.
The beach is at peak activity, with the sun high in the almost blindingly blue sky. Outside, the sounds of children and young adults alike screeching intermingle with the thuds of volleyballs being tossed, footsteps trampling over sand, seagulls squawking. In contrast, Shin deeply contemplates the hardwood tiles silently, from where they lie just beneath his nose.
It’s mid-July and Mr. Sakamoto offered to help out at one of his regular customer’s beach front shops during his absence, in the face of Lu and Shin’s begging at the prospect of being able to stay at the attached beach house during the few weeks. With Sakamoto’s left in the capable hands of Mrs. Sakamoto and Hana, the trio set off, accompanied by the regular tagalongs, as well as some more…unwanted additions.
“Shiiinnnnnn~” Shin remained silent, trying to meld himself into the floor, to no avail. Unfortunately, light footsteps came to a stop a few feet away. “Oh, there you are!”
The irritating, aggravating face of one Nagumo (last name: who the fuck knows) popped into the room.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, what’re you doing over here? Playing some sort of game?”
If Shin pretends he doesn’t exist maybe he’ll disappear eventually. Please, dear god, let him disappear.
“Yknow, back in my day, Sakamoto and I would fool around all the time as well. Of course, our games were more of the murdery, fun kind, but to each their own haha.” In typical Nagumo fashion, the man strolled around, poking around the room without a care in the world, before coming to a stop, squatting down by Shin’s head. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a shady-looking, attractive, blonde man, possibly wandering around looking vaguely lost, would you?” Shin gazes at the grooves of the wood below him, wondering which of the many sins he committed were worth the punishment of being subjugated to the depraved thoughts of, probably, the most terrifying man in the world.
He’s supposed to be relaxing right now. Can a man not relax on a hot, summer day? Shin was a good person, in comparison to the very non-good people he was frequently surrounded by that is, what did he do to deserve—fucking hell, Nagumo was lying down next to him now, fucking why.
The dark-haired man propped his head up on his hand as he continued to yammer on. “You know, Shin, as your close friend, I feel compelled to give you advice on your woes. The second I saw your face I knew exactly what was plaguing you: relationship troubles!”
What the fuck.
Years of training to be a professional assassin couldn’t stop the full body shiver that wracked Shin’s body.
“Ah ah ah no need to say anything, you see, I’m a bit of an expert in the field, especially in your situation. I get it, really,” Nagumo, much to the horror of all other occupants in the room, placed a sympathetic hand on Shin’s shoulder. “Quiet, brooding, magnetic in a very peculiar way, haha in your case that’s probably literal with all his little gadgets and gizmos. Point is: I know exactly what you’re going through and, as we all know, there’s no one better to help you through this plight. Now, despite what others may say, especially that prude Sakamoto, what’s key here is seduction-”
Oh dear lord, kill me now.
“Holy fuck, dude, Mr. Shishiba’s probably out helping Amane and Mafuyu bury Toramaru in the sand, I don’t fucking know, just please, please, for the love of god, stop talking.” In what has to be Shin’s most desperate act of self-preservation so far in his life, he violently jerks out of Nagumo’s grasp, rolling as far away as he can from the grinning man.
Before he even finishes his sentence, Nagumo abruptly stands, laughing obnoxiously. “Great talk, Shin! We’ll be sure to continue it later, but, in the meantime-”
Shin looks up at the pause in footsteps, only to feel a chill at the sight of an uncharacteristically serious face.
“Act on it, Shin.”
Like absolutely nothing happened, Nagumo’s default expression back on, the man all but prances away, a nonsensical tune following in his wake.
Shin blinks, still caught up in the aftermath of the whirlwind of the past 5 minutes, before glowering, collapsing back down, face-first.
Act on it. Yeah, right. That bastard doesn’t know what he’s talking about. God knows how he managed to gain the previously thought-to-be non-existent affections of, possibly, the most apathetic, reticent man alive, but, whatever black magic he conducted would never work in Shin’s situation.
Of course, not that Shin even had a situation in the first place. Shin was absolutely situationless. Hell, Lu made fun of him on a daily basis for how completely and utterly situationless he was, so, no, there was no black magic, or rituals, or-or seduction needed thank you very much.
And, even if, emphasis on the if, there was, perhaps, against all odds, a ‘situation’ to be had, it would definitely not involve any quiet, brooding, gizmo-making man. No, if this hypothetical man existed, surely he would be an incredibly aggravating, pain in Shin’s ass, that he would never feel even a modicum of fondness for.
It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t feasible. Shin scoffs at the mere conception.
Even if the hypothetical man was deceptively kind. Even if he was a caring brother. Even if he was intelligent and witty and made Shin feel normal. Even if he was—magnetic. Drawing Shin’s eyes to him, regardless if his silence stood out in a room of thoughts or not, prompting Shin to trace a path along those alluring moles to the knowing quirk on that mouth that never failed to light him on fire.
No, he could never love such a man.
Shin flexed his feet, listening intensely to the shouts and laughter outside to drown out the roaring in his ears.
He ignored the new footsteps slowly making their way towards him, accompanied by the, now-familiar, deafening absence of thoughts playing out for him.
He would’ve continued doing his best impression of Slur’s latest victim if not for a drop of liquid falling onto his neck, exposed by the ponytail Toramaru had forced upon him, trailing a sticky path down. Shin yelped, slapping an instinctive hand to his nape as he finally sat up, glaring, “What the fuck, man.”
The dark eyes of the person Shin least wanted to and simultaneously needed to see stared back down at him impassively, a flicker of humour warming them, “Slacking off I see.”
Seba all but collapsed beside him, splaying out on the ground. The offending popsicle in his hand dripped a blue puddle above their heads. “You left me and Lu to fend for ourselves out there. The kids here, somehow, whine more than Mafuyu. I didn’t know that was possible.”
Shin finally turned on his side, briefly eying the sad remains of Seba’s popsicle, “I’m on my break, dumbass, and I think you mean I left Lu and Lu alone to fend for herself, you hypocrite.” He tried not to let his eyes trace a familiar path, now leading lower to collarbones, exposed by a black tanktop. He spotted sweat trailing down and immediately failed. “And I know it’s not your break because you’re filling in for Mr. Sakamoto while he gets more ice.” His eyes finally move back up and he flushes when he’s met with that damned knowing face that never fails to piss him off and make him want to—well.
“I’m on strike.” At Shin’s unimpressed look, Seba finally releases his stained popsicle stick, reaching up to absently scratch at an eyebrow. His eyes flicker down briefly before meeting Shin’s again. “I couldn’t work under those conditions.”
Shin’s eyebrows furrowed, “What conditions?”
“I guess it was too quiet.”
“Seba, we’re literally at peak hours at a loud ass beach, and you were working with Lu.”
Shin notes, with wonder, that Seba’s ears are red. Is the temperature getting to him that bad?
“Hmm…well. I guess I’m just used to psychics that never shut up. Or something.” It is not that hot out.
Seba’s voice is almost impossible to hear over the roaring in Shin’s ears returning. “Is that so? You almost make it sound like you enjoy the sound of my voice, Seba.” Eyes glance down to Seba’s throat as he swallows.
“I see…how someone might take it that way.”
Shin sits up, hyper-aware of the way those dark eyes track his movement.
Act on it.
Shin takes a deep breath.