Alexis and Yoichi aren’t exactly friends.

Sure, they spend a lot of time together, but calling them “friends” feels a little too… simple. Too neat .

Their connection is more like a tangled ball of string — messy, playful, full of twists. They’re the kind of people who can’t seem to have a normal conversation without throwing in sarcastic jabs, witty comebacks, and just the right amount of eye-rolling.

Okay, so maybe they are friends.

They bicker, they tease, they banter like pros, tossing quips back and forth like it’s some kind of sport they’ve mastered.

They’re just friends who enjoy getting under each other’s skin. The kind of friends who can talk for hours without saying anything serious. But under that constant back-and-forth is something else — an unspoken understanding, a simmering heat they both pretend not to notice.

Except, sometimes, pretending isn’t enough.

Sometimes the teasing lingers too long, the witty remarks slow down, and the air between them shifts.

The sparks from their verbal sparring catch fire, and the line between playful banter and something more blurs until it disappears entirely. Words fade, replaced by a different kind of energy. One that pulls them together, closer than friends. And in the quiet aftermath, when their breath steadies and the fire cools, they might even laugh about it, falling right back into their familiar rhythm, as if nothing’s changed.

Because maybe it hasn’t.

But okay — Alexis doesn’t like Yoichi.

There’s something about Yoichi that just grates on him — the way he’s always got some smug comment ready, the way he never takes anything seriously.

The constant banter is exhausting, honestly. Yoichi has this infuriating habit of getting under his skin, throwing out sarcastic little remarks that Alexis feels compelled to respond to, even though he knows better. It’s like Yoichi enjoys poking at him just to see how he’ll react.

Alexis doesn’t need that in his life. He’s got enough going on without having to deal with Yoichi’s endless parade of witty quips and stupid smirks. But then again, the sex is good.

Really good.

Good enough to make putting up with Yoichi’s constant teasing almost worth it. Almost .

He doesn’t even know why he keeps hanging out with the guy. They’ll go back and forth for hours, Yoichi throwing jabs that Alexis fires right back. It’s exhausting, really. He should’ve walked away ages ago. But somehow, he never does. There’s always something — some stupid, ridiculous reason to stick around.

Like that time Yoichi brought him coffee without asking, claiming it was “just because I felt like it.” Alexis had wanted to roll his eyes and tell him to stop being so annoyingly considerate, but instead, he’d just taken the cup and mumbled a “thanks” without making eye contact.

He had no idea how Yoichi knew he liked his coffee black, no sugar, but of course Yoichi knew. He always knew things like that — metavision ?

Or the time Alexis was having a particularly shitty day, and somehow, Yoichi managed to drag him out of the apartment and into some absurd, spur-of-the-moment adventure that had Alexis laughing before he even realized what was happening. He hated that. Hated that Yoichi had the ability to make him forget, even for a little while, how much he was supposed to dislike him.

But at the end of the day, it all comes down to the sex. That’s what he tells himself when he’s lying next to Yoichi, their banter long forgotten, the room quiet except for their slowing breaths. It’s just about the sex.

Except, of course, there’s always that moment when Yoichi rolls over, grins at him like they’ve shared some kind of private joke, and Alexis can’t help but grin back. And for a split second, he forgets that he’s supposed to dislike him at all.

Then, Yoichi will say something stupid, and Alexis will groan, push him off, and remind himself that this is temporary, that he doesn’t even like the guy. Not really.

Except for when he kind of does.

But tonight, the exhaustion catches up to him quicker than usual. Alexis feels his eyes growing heavy as he listens to the faint hum of the city outside the window.

Yoichi’s warmth next to him is oddly comforting, though he’d never admit it. He tells himself he’ll move in just a minute, maybe make some sarcastic remark to cut the tension that lingers in the air, but instead, his mind starts to drift.

His thoughts become hazy, his breathing evens out, and before he knows it — he’s dozing off, the last coherent thought being that maybe, just maybe, he likes Yoichi more than he’s willing to admit.

Oh, fuck that.

He could never.

1

Alexis wakes up to the dull hum of his phone vibrating on the nightstand, the persistent buzz cutting through the stillness of the room.

Groaning, he rubs a hand over his face, squinting at the screen. It’s too early for this. His eyes focus, and the caller ID glows back at him — Mihya . Of course, it’s Mihya. No one else would call him at this ungodly hour for something that probably isn’t even important.

Beside him, Yoichi is sprawled against his chest, his face tucked into the crook of Alexis’ neck, his breath slow and rhythmic. His hair, a chaotic mess from sleep, tickles Alexis’ skin, but Yoichi seems blissfully unaware of how annoyingly perfect he looks even while dead to the world. Alexis briefly contemplates ignoring the call, but Mihya’s persistence is legendary. If he didn’t pick up, there’d just be a series of increasingly urgent follow-ups.

With a resigned sigh, Alexis swipes the phone to answer.

”Hey, Alexis,” Mihya’s voice comes through, way too chipper considering the hour. “I want to go somewhere. Bring Yoichi.”

Alexis closes his eyes, exhaling slowly as he fights the urge to groan. Bring Yoichi? What, was he a glorified babysitter now? Like Yoichi couldn’t manage to get himself out of bed and dressed without Alexis dragging him along. He glances down at the boy still curled into him, completely oblivious, his mouth slightly parted in a way that would’ve been endearing if Alexis wasn’t trying so hard to convince himself he didn’t care.

Of course, Yoichi always sleeps like this — completely dead to the world, clingy as hell , like he’s got no concept of personal space. Alexis had long since given up trying to push him off in the middle of the night, not that he’d ever admit to how oddly comforting the warmth was.

He shakes the thought away. Mihya was waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, whatever,”Alexis mutters into the phone, his voice barely above a grumble. He hangs up without waiting for a response and tosses the phone back onto the nightstand with a thud.

For a moment, he just sits there, staring down at Yoichi’s peaceful, sleeping face. He really should just leave him there, let him sleep off whatever dumb late-night session he’d stayed up for. But Mihya had asked for them both, and Mihya’s requests were more like orders. Alexis had learned through experience that ignoring Mihya only led to more hassle than it was worth.

Still, he hesitates. Yoichi looks so peaceful like this — annoyingly, infuriatingly peaceful , his face soft and vulnerable in sleep, so unlike his usual cocky, sarcastic self. His hair is a wild mess, sticking out in every direction, and Alexis finds himself brushing a few strands away from his forehead before he realizes what he’s doing.

Why am I even doing this? he thinks, frustrated at himself. He doesn't even like Yoichi. He just puts up with him because the sex is good. Right? That’s all this is — putting up with the banter and the clinginess because there’s some payoff . Except for the stupid little moments like this, when it’s harder to remember why he’s supposed to be annoyed.

Shaking his head, he leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Yoichi’s head without thinking, like it’s a habit that’s formed without his consent. It’s quick, it’s nothing. Except that it lingers for just a second too long. He pulls back and mutters under his breath.

“Wake up, stupid.”

Yoichi stirs, groaning as his eyes slowly flutter open. He doesn’t move right away, just burrows deeper into Alexis’ chest like he’s planning to stay there forever. Alexis sighs, but the frustration is half-hearted at best. He tells himself it’s just the warmth, just the fact that the bed is comfortable and that getting up means dealing with Mihya’s plans. Nothing more. Nothing personal.

Yoichi finally looks up at him with sleepy eyes, his voice groggy. “What’s the rush?”

“Mihya wants to go somewhere,” Alexis says, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. “And apparently, I have to bring you.”

Yoichi groans again, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his face now, like he knows something Alexis won’t admit. “Guess I’m your responsibility now, huh?”

“Shut up,” Alexis mutters, though there’s no bite to it. He’s already pulling back the covers, giving Yoichi’s arm a nudge that’s more of a half-hearted shove. “Get dressed before I regret waking you up.”

Yoichi grins, stretching lazily before rolling out of bed. And as Alexis watches him move, he tells himself, once again, that he doesn’t even like the guy. But the way his lips twitch into a reluctant smile says otherwise.

Alexis watches as Yoichi stirs awake, his hair even more of a disaster than usual, and his half-lidded eyes still heavy with sleep. He mumbles something incoherent, his voice deep and raspy in that groggy way people have when they first wake up, and Alexis can’t help but notice how weirdly cute he looks like that — sleepy, vulnerable, and far less annoying than when he’s conscious.

For a split second, Alexis feels the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. He doesn't mean to, it just happens, like his body betraying his brain. He glances at Yoichi's tousled hair, his lazy stretch, and the sleepy way his lips part as he yawns.

Cute. The thought pops into his head before he can stop it.

And immediately, he mentally slaps himself. Cute? Seriously? He’s really losing it. He doesn’t like Yoichi. This isn’t that kind of thing . He’s only putting up with him because of the good sex, not because Yoichi looks like some kind of adorable, sleepy puppy right now.

Right?

He drags a hand over his face in exasperation, half hoping to wipe the stupid thought from his mind. Yoichi is anything but cute. He’s irritating. Constantly making some smug remark or pushing Alexis’ buttons just for fun. That’s what he’s supposed to focus on — the annoying part, not… whatever this was.

Yoichi yawns again, glancing up at Alexis with that lazy, half-smirk that always suggests he knows more than he’s letting on. “What’s with the face? You look like you’re about to combust.”

“Nothing,” Alexis snaps, maybe a little too quickly. He throws the blankets off and nudges Yoichi’s arm harder this time, needing to regain some sense of normalcy. “Just get up before Mihya comes barging in and makes this worse.”

Yoichi chuckles softly, sitting up in bed and stretching with a content sigh. Alexis looks away, trying his best to ignore the brief flash of warmth in his chest. Just get dressed, he orders himself, and stop thinking like an idiot.

As Yoichi gets up, Alexis pulls on a shirt, shaking off whatever ridiculous thoughts had crossed his mind. He tells himself again, I don’t like Yoichi. I don’t even like waking up next to him.

But for some reason, when Yoichi bumps his shoulder playfully on the way to grab his clothes, Alexis finds himself not minding it nearly as much as he should.

2

Alexis leads Yoichi through the city’s entertainment district, where neon lights flash against the wet pavement, casting a kaleidoscope of colors that dance around them. The street is alive with the sound of people, laughter, and the occasional distant honk of a car horn, but Alexis moves with purpose, ignoring the bustling chaos as they approach the venue.

The burlesque club stands out like a decadent relic from another time. Its exterior is rich and ornate, with velvet ropes and gold trim that glint in the evening light. The heavy doors part for them, revealing a world of opulence inside. The soft hum of conversations mingles with the clink of glasses, and low, sultry music swells from the stage as they step in. Everything about the place feels intoxicating — warm, dimly lit, perfumed with some vague, sweet scent that curls around them like a whisper.

The performer is already on stage when they find their seats. Her movements are fluid, hypnotic, her body swaying to the rhythm as if she’s part of the music itself. The audience erupts into a roar of applause as she twirls, her gown catching the light in a way that sends shimmering waves across the room. Alexis can feel the heat of it all — the music, the energy, the show — but something pulls at him, making it hard to focus.

It’s Yoichi.

Alexis’ attention shifts, almost unwillingly, to the boy sitting beside him. Amidst the flashing lights and the performer’s seductive routine, Yoichi is staring at the stage, but with a look of genuine fascination rather than lust. His eyes are deep, contemplative, the kind of look that made it seem like he was studying something far beyond what was happening on the surface.

Under the soft amber glow of the club’s lights, every detail of Yoichi seems sharper, more defined. His cheekbones catch the light just right, casting shadows that accentuate the angles of his face. His jawline is strong, but softened by the delicate curve of his lips, which right now are slightly parted in that subtle way that makes Alexis forget, just for a moment, that he’s supposed to be annoyed.

There’s something magnetic about the way Yoichi looks right now, as if the chaos of the city, the show, and everything else has faded, leaving just this moment. Alexis catches himself staring and quickly looks away, feeling a heat rise in his chest that has nothing to do with the club's warmth.

“Aren’t you enjoying the show?” Yoichi’s voice cuts through the haze, light but laced with curiosity. He doesn’t turn to look at Alexis, but there’s something teasing in his tone, something that suggests he knows Alexis isn’t watching the stage anymore.

Alexis shifts in his seat, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. “What are you on to now?” The words come out more defensive than he intended, like he’s trying to deflect from the fact that he’s been caught staring.

Yoichi finally glances over, his expression unreadable for a moment. His lips quirk, but there’s something else behind the smirk. Something more vulnerable. A flicker of something that Alexis can’t quite place. Hurt ? No, that can’t be it.

Then Yoichi’s face changes, just for a second. His expression flattens, and his voice follows. “Don’t mind that I asked.” The words drop between them like stones, heavy and cold.

Alexis feels the shift, the subtle sting of it. There’s a moment of silence, thick with something unspoken, something that makes Alexis want to reach out and say something — anything — to keep the conversation going. But his throat tightens, and the words slip away before they even form.

The performer on stage lets out a sultry laugh, drawing the audience back into the show, but Alexis barely registers it. His attention is locked on Yoichi, who’s turned back to the stage, but the look on his face has changed. The intrigue from before has been replaced by something more guarded, as if a wall has gone up that Alexis didn’t even know was there.

He should say something. He knows that. But instead, he sits there, his mouth dry and his heart pounding in a way that’s both infuriating and confusing. Yoichi’s words echo in his head, and he can’t shake the sour taste they’ve left behind.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Alexis mutters under his breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him, suffocating in a way he didn’t expect.

Yoichi’s lips twitch, like he might’ve heard him, but he doesn’t say anything. The lights dim further as the performer reaches the peak of her routine, and the crowd roars in approval, but for Alexis, the noise feels distant. All he can think about is the strange silence between him and Yoichi, and the fact that, for the first time, it bothers him more than he wants to admit.

3

The cool night air bites at Alexis as they make their way back home, Mihya walking just a step ahead, shoulder brushing against Yoichi’s in a way that makes Alexis’ jaw tighten.

The streets are quieter now, a stark contrast to the lively burlesque club they’ve just left behind. Alexis doesn’t bother engaging in whatever conversation Mihya and Yoichi are having — his mind is too tangled to focus on the words. He trails a step behind, feeling a little too much like an outsider in a group that’s always been just the three of them.

Yoichi’s voice cuts through the quiet, asking the question they all know is coming.

“You break up with your girl again?”

Mihya laughs, a sound that’s somehow both light and bitter at the same time. “Would I watch a burlesque show if I didn’t?”

Yoichi shrugs, his tone casual. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t really get relationships.”

The rest of their conversation fades into muffled noise for Alexis. He hears Mihya responding, Yoichi throwing in the occasional comment, but none of it registers. All he can focus on is the growing knot in his chest — the way Yoichi is walking next to Mihya, talking to him like they share some kind of private joke. There’s an ease between them that makes Alexis’ stomach twist, a sense of closeness that suddenly feels suffocating.

Since when did they get so close? The thought gnaws at him, irrational and unwanted, but it’s there all the same. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like being the one left behind, the third wheel in their group of three. It’s not supposed to feel like this, but here he is, trailing after them, barely part of the conversation.

They reach the street corner where Mihya says goodbye, his usual breezy farewell hanging in the air. “See you two later.” And just like that, he’s gone, leaving Alexis and Yoichi standing alone in the faint glow of the streetlight.

For a moment, neither of them speaks. They just stare at each other, the tension from earlier still lingering, heavy and unspoken. There’s something unreadable in Yoichi’s eyes, something Alexis can’t quite place, but it makes his chest feel tight all over again.

“I’ll just pick up my stuff from your place and head out,” Yoichi says, his voice casual, but there’s an undertone there. Something that pulls at Alexis, something that makes him feel like he can’t just let Yoichi walk away.

He doesn’t know what shifts between them, what sparks the moment into something else entirely, but by the time they’re back at Alexis’ flat, the atmosphere has changed. It’s thick, charged with something that’s been simmering beneath the surface all night. The second the door clicks shut behind them, any pretense of casualness disappears.

It happens fast — one second, they’re standing there in the dim light of the hallway, and the next, they’re crashing into each other.

Their mouths collide with a mix of heat and desperation, lips pressing hard, hands fumbling to pull each other closer.

Alexis doesn’t think, doesn’t even try to stop himself. All he knows is the feel of Yoichi’s lips on his, the way Yoichi’s hands tangle in his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss like he’s been waiting for this all night.

The room around them blurs, becoming nothing more than a backdrop as Alexis’ hands move on their own, unpeeling the layers of restrictive cloth from Yoichi’s lithe body. Yoichi gasps against his mouth as the fabric falls away, the sound sending a jolt of heat through Alexis’ chest. He pulls back just long enough to take in the sight of Yoichi standing there, breathless, cheeks flushed with a pink warmth that only makes him look more inviting.

His eyes flick down to Yoichi’s chest, where his skin is warm under his hands, his mouth moving down until his lips close around a hardened nub. Yoichi’s breath hitches, his back arching slightly, a soft moan escaping his lips as Alexis’ tongue flicks over the sensitive skin.

Alexis looks up, his eyes locking onto Yoichi’s glassy gaze. Yoichi’s mouth is parted, half-open in the throes of a moan he can’t quite release, his eyes hazy and dark with something that feels like more than just lust. His hands are tangled in Alexis’ hair, holding him in place, his body trembling slightly with every kiss, every touch. His cheeks are flushed, a delicate pink that makes him look both undone and impossibly beautiful.

It’s in that moment, with Yoichi looking down at him, flushed and panting, that the thought Alexis has been pushing back all night slips free.

How did I ever miss how pretty he is?

It’s not just lust, not just heat. There’s something else — something more vulnerable, something that makes his chest tighten and his heart race in a way that scares him if he lets himself think too much about it.

Yoichi moans again, and Alexis lets his hands roam lower, pulling the boy closer, his mouth still teasing, still tasting. He can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop . Every part of him is consumed by Yoichi — the feel of his skin, the sound of his breathless gasps, the way his body responds to every touch.

And underneath it all, that thought lingers, warm and undeniable.

Yoichi’s beautiful. How did I not see it before?

Yoichi’s breathing becomes erratic, shallow gasps filling the small space between them as Alexis moves lower, his lips tracing a path down the smooth expanse of Yoichi’s abdomen. The heat between them feels almost unbearable, the intensity of it like a fire neither of them wants to extinguish. Yoichi’s hands tighten in Alexis’ hair, a soft groan escaping him as Alexis’ tongue slides against his skin, tasting the salt and heat that lingers there.

Alexis pauses, eyes drifting upward for a brief moment, catching the way Yoichi’s chest rises and falls with each labored breath. The soft lighting in the room casts shadows across his face, highlighting the delicate lines of his jaw, the curve of his throat, and the way his lips tremble with every exhale.

He’s beautiful — so impossibly beautiful — and the realization hits Alexis again, harder this time, making his pulse quicken.

It’s more than just physical attraction now. It’s something deeper, something that stirs in his gut and makes him want to see every expression Yoichi makes, hear every sound he can pull from him. It’s the way Yoichi looks at him, half-lidded eyes full of need, and the way his body responds, instinctively trusting, giving in to every touch. Alexis didn’t realize how much he wanted this — needed this — until now.

Yoichi’s voice pulls him back, breathless and edged with something close to a plea. “Alexis...”

The sound of his name on Yoichi’s lips sends a shiver down his spine. He presses his mouth to Yoichi’s hip, drawing another soft gasp, before standing and capturing Yoichi’s lips again in a kiss that feels almost frantic, desperate. Yoichi melts into it, his hands moving from Alexis’ hair to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer as their bodies press together, heat radiating from every touch, every kiss.

Alexis backs Yoichi toward the bed, the edge of the mattress hitting the back of Yoichi’s legs as they stumble into the room. They fall onto the sheets in a tangle of limbs, the soft creak of the bed lost in the sound of their mouths moving together, breaths mingling as they grasp for more — more skin, more contact, more of each othe r.

Yoichi’s hands are everywhere, sliding down Alexis’ back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging impatiently. Alexis pulls back just long enough to strip off his own clothes, his shirt landing on the floor in a crumpled heap before he returns to Yoichi, pressing their bare chests together. The sensation of skin on skin ignites something even deeper, something primal. He can feel Yoichi’s heart pounding beneath his own, the rhythm of it syncing with his own racing pulse.

Yoichi’s mouth is hot and insistent against his, and when Alexis pulls back slightly, he watches the way Yoichi’s lips part, swollen and red, his breath shaky. His eyes flutter open, dark and glassy, pupils blown wide.

Alexis presses a thumb to Yoichi’s bottom lip, feeling the warmth there, and Yoichi’s tongue darts out instinctively, grazing the pad of Alexis’ finger. It sends a bolt of heat through Alexis, and he feels himself losing control, the last remnants of restraint slipping away.

“Yoichi…” Alexis breathes, his voice low and rough. He can’t even form the rest of the thought — everything feels like too much, and yet, not enough. His hands roam over Yoichi’s body, feeling every ridge, every curve, every shiver that courses through him.

Yoichi’s eyes lock onto his, and there’s something vulnerable there, something raw and exposed that Alexis hadn’t expected to see. “Alexis...” he whispers, voice trembling slightly, but there’s no hesitation, no doubt.

In that moment, everything else fades away — the burlesque club, Mihya, the confusion Alexis had felt earlier. None of it matters now. All that exists is the two of them, tangled in each other, hearts racing, breaths mingling.

Alexis presses Yoichi down into the mattress, lips finding his neck, his collarbone, moving lower with each kiss. Yoichi arches beneath him, fingers digging into his shoulders, his body trembling with every touch, every kiss. And when Alexis finally moves his mouth lower, kissing the soft skin of Yoichi’s chest, his tongue circling another hardened nub, Yoichi gasps, his back arching off the bed, a moan escaping his lips, half-choked and breathless.

Alexis’ eyes flick upward, catching the way Yoichi looks down at him, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded and glassy with desire. His lips are parted, breath coming in shallow, uneven pants, and the sight of him like this — completely undone — sends a rush of heat through Alexis that’s almost overwhelming.

And then, that stray thought creeps back in, stronger now, undeniable.

How did I ever miss how pretty he is?

Alexis pauses, his mouth still hovering over Yoichi’s chest, and for just a second, he lets himself fully take it in. The curve of Yoichi’s lips, the flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes seem to shimmer with a mixture of desire and something softer, something almost affectionate. It’s more than just physical attraction now — it’s something that makes Alexis’ heart ache in a way he hadn’t expected.

He pulls Yoichi closer, kissing him deeper, more slowly this time, as if trying to savor the moment, the feel of Yoichi in his arms, the way their bodies fit together. Yoichi responds immediately, wrapping his legs around Alexis, pulling him even closer as their breaths sync, the room filled with the sound of their shared gasps and moans.

For the first time, Alexis lets himself admit it—Yoichi isn’t just beautiful in the heat of the moment, under the haze of lust. He’s beautiful, always has been. And now, Alexis can’t imagine not seeing it, not feeling this.

He doesn’t know what it means yet, doesn’t know where this is going, but as Yoichi moans his name again, breathless and full of need, Alexis knows one thing for sure — he doesn’t want to stop. Not now. Not ever .

As Alexis moves over Yoichi, his body pressing down with a need that feels more urgent with every passing second, something shifts. He watches the way Yoichi arches under him, every moan spilling from his lips like music Alexis didn’t realize he craved. His hands roam lower, gripping Yoichi’s hips as their bodies move together, breaths mingling in the heavy air of the room.

And then it slips out.

“Shit, you’re so beautiful,” Alexis murmurs, the words tumbling from his mouth before he can even think to stop them.

The moment they leave his lips, time seems to freeze. Alexis feels his heart stutter in his chest, his brain racing to catch up with what he’s just said. His eyes widen as he realizes, did I just say that out loud?

He pulls back slightly, still hovering over Yoichi, but the air between them is suddenly thick with something entirely different — uncertainty, confusion, maybe even fear. For a split second, Alexis thinks he’s ruined everything. He tries to backpedal, but the words are already out there, hanging between them like a tangible thing he can’t take back.

Yoichi blinks up at him, his eyes still glazed, his brain fogged from the alcohol and the heat of the moment. He doesn’t respond right away, still trying to process what Alexis has said. His breath is shallow, and for a few heartbeats, the only sound is the ragged rhythm of their breathing.

Alexis’ throat tightens. He feels exposed in a way he hadn’t expected. Vulnerable. Saying something like that wasn’t part of the plan, wasn’t part of this . He wasn’t supposed to feel this much — he wasn’t supposed to let Yoichi see that he wasn’t just going through the motions, wasn’t just looking for the physical release.

“Yoichi—” Alexis starts, his voice rough, maybe ready to brush it off, make some sarcastic comment to deflect, but Yoichi’s eyes flicker with sudden clarity, like the fog is finally starting to lift.

Yoichi stares up at him, his expression shifting from dazed confusion to something sharper. The flush on his cheeks deepens, and Alexis can see it—the moment Yoichi registers exactly what he’s just heard.

“You… you think I’m…” Yoichi’s voice is barely a whisper, hoarse and hesitant, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and disbelief. He swallows hard, the flush on his cheeks spreading down to his neck, his lips parting as if he’s searching for something to say but can’t quite find the words.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, both flustered and caught off guard, the weight of Alexis’ words hanging between them like a fragile thread. Alexis can feel his pulse thudding in his ears, and he knows he should say something — anything — but all he can do is hold Yoichi’s gaze, his own face heating as the silence stretches on.

Yoichi looks up at him, his lips still parted, his breath shaky. “Alexis,” he says, his voice soft, as if testing the word, as if trying to make sense of it. His eyes search Alexis’ face, a strange vulnerability flashing across his features that Alexis has never seen before.

“I—” Alexis starts, unsure of how to finish that thought. I didn’t mean to say it, but it’s true .

Yoichi’s hands are still resting on Alexis’ shoulders, his fingers tightening slightly, grounding them both in the moment. “Did you—” Yoichi pauses, his brain still sluggish from the alcohol, but his eyes are locked on Alexis now, fully present. “Did you mean that?”

Alexis opens his mouth, then closes it again, feeling like he’s standing on the edge of something huge. The vulnerability is almost too much, but he knows there’s no running from it now. His throat feels dry, and his heart races in a way he can't control.

“Yeah,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. He glances away, suddenly unable to look Yoichi in the eyes. “Yeah, I did.”

Yoichi’s breath hitches and Alexis feels him shift beneath him, like he’s trying to process everything, the alcohol still lingering but not enough to dull the intensity of the moment.

And then, without warning, Yoichi lets out a small, breathless laugh — one that’s half-disbelief, half something else. His hands slide up from Alexis’ shoulders, cupping his face gently, pulling Alexis’ gaze back to his.

“I… I didn’t expect that,” Yoichi murmurs, his voice soft, almost teasing, but there’s an edge of something serious beneath it.

Alexis’ face burns with the realization of how far he’s let himself go, how exposed he feels in this moment. He opens his mouth to say something snarky, to deflect, but Yoichi’s hands are still on his face, his thumbs brushing gently against Alexis’ cheeks, and suddenly there’s no room for sarcasm. Just them.

“You’re really bad at keeping things to yourself, huh?” Yoichi says, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes are still wide, still vulnerable.

Alexis can’t help but grin back, even though his heart is still hammering in his chest. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Yoichi’s grin softens, his thumbs still tracing gentle circles against Alexis’ skin. “Good,” he whispers, before pulling Alexis down into a kiss that feels softer this time, slower, like they’re both trying to savor the moment.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, Alexis lets himself fall. Completely.