[ yeah. he's way better than any 2d tsundere there's ever been, too.
ichiro steps off of the jr train just a little later, looking from left to right, his trademark red headphones over his ears. he's never actually been to samatoki's, so he has no idea where he's going. he looks a little bit like a lost puppy.
and it only gets worse, because he spots samatoki and his cool bike and brightens. you can almost see the tail wagging when he jogs over towards him, grinning from ear to ear. ] Samatoki!
( samatoki is halfway through lighting a cigarette when he hears that familiar, eager voice call out his name. he's leaning against his bike, practically freezing his ass off, but he makes the effort to not look like it. gotta act cool and everything in the front of the puppy. )
That's Samatoki-san. [ he puts his cigarette away, probably for the best, and he straightens up. ] Maybe I shoulda let you walk to my place instead.
[ ichiro doesn't even bother with correcting himself with the honorific--there's no point, considering it just goes in one ear and out the other. he finishes his jog towards him, slowing a few steps in as he gets close. (and he gets a little overwhelmed with the warmth in his chest, too, that he came here because he has a thing for samatoki, and because it's almost definitely returned.
look at those dimples. what a happy puppy. he laughs, shrugs his shoulders. ] I wouldn't have known where to go. [ looking earnest, almost, towards the bike. ] Thanks for coming anyway.
( there goes that tail, wagging itself at a hundred miles a minute. samatoki doesn't even need to ask how ichiro is doing when he can practically see the excitement on his face — what a happy puppy indeed. he's also just going to ignore how fast his heart is beating right now. )
Haa? Maybe I shoulda just texted you the address. Instead of coming to pick you up when it's this cold out.
( despite what he says, he's offering ichiro his other helmet. )
Maybe you wouldn't be so cold if you wore real clothes. [ it's playful and teasing--also, because ichiro is quite fine with samatoki's state of dress--and he hops around to grab the helmet from him. it's not the first time they've ridden on samatoki's motorcycle together, so this part is familiar, but samatoki's not the only one with a quickened heartbeat.
even something as simple as sharing this bike is giving him butterflies. ichiro swings a leg over the back of the bike and slides out of the way to make space for samatoki, smiling up at him. it's still huge: even with the glass visor of the helmet, you can see his dimples. ] It's gonna be worth your while, anyway, promise.
Careful with what you say. I might get ideas and steal your stupid jacket.
( the sarcasm doesn't have any bite to it, really, just as playful and annoying as ichiro's teasing. he only hops on his bike once ichiro makes room for him, a practiced routine between the two of them. he slips on his helmet because he isn't an idiot, but it's not like he's planning on driving recklessly — not when he has precious cargo to transport. )
Hold tight.
( it's the only warning ichiro gets before he starts up the engine, making sure he's got their balance right before he rolls them out into the busy streets. thankfully the travel time isn't that long, even with the current rush-hour traffic. he doesn't live that far from the station anyway, so it's only a matter of time before he's pulling up at his usual parking spot.
You'd look good in it. [ he says, and it feels a little more giddy than usual, the easy way he can exchange banter with samatoki laced with the feeling of mutual affection, a warmth that he's thought was there for so long that turned out to be real.
so when samatoki says "hold tight" ichiro's happy to listen. he wraps his arms around his waist like it's a perfect fit, bare hands coming to curl underneath his leather jacket, letting the warmth of samatoki's body heat keep his fingers from freezing even with the yokohama breeze.
he's used to his driving, but it doesn't mean that ichiro doesn't hold on tight, anyway, relishing in the closeness, pressed next to his shoulder and closing his eyes as they drive, and the world melts away to just old cologne and cigarette smoke and the back that's always in front of him. as they arrive, it takes him a moment to release, fingers slowly loosening from samatoki's shirt before he pushes himself to a full sitting position.
ichiro takes off the helmet and shakes out his wild dark hair, then looks at the actual apartment itself (and it's hard to take his eyes off of the burning star in front of him, but he'll try.) ] Thanks for having me. [ maybe a little teasing; he did kind of wheedle his way into coming over. ]
[ whenever they go for a ride on his motorcycle, samatoki is usually in favour of taking the long way around nine times out of ten, but tonight is a little different because he's cold and it's the holidays and he doesn't want to spend a minute of it away from his family too long. ichiro counts as part of that family now too, even if there are feelings present that go beyond the type of love he feels for nemu. he doesn't say it out loud, but he's happy to have ichiro here either way.
he takes off his helmet too, shuffling his pockets for the house keys before tossing them at ichiro. the reason for it becomes clear when he grabs the helmet he leant him, because he sure isn't the one opening the door. gonna make ichiro work for it, a little. ]
Yeah, yeah. Figures something was up when I noticed Nemu preparing more food than necessary. [ he gestures at the door with a jerk of his head. ] Go ahead.
[ ichiro catches the keys like its routine, his grin brightening a little as he does. it's normal for their room at school, and the familiarity brings warmth to ichiro's chest, that same feeling of home.
he turns that sunshine smile back to the door to turn the key in the lock, though, pleased that samatoki now has seen through his little plan. though, admittedly, ichiro can't take all the credit... ] Nemu-chan and I've been conspiring all break. Since I got the mixtape. Most of it was her idea, actually, once I told her I--
[ he pauses as he turns the key, then looks over his shoulder at samatoki, sunshine in its human form. the smile's softened just a little, his cheeks going a nice shade of red, as he seems to get flustered. ] ...well, you know.
[ he hasn't unlocked the door yet, though, hand on the doorknob. ] You told me I was going to have to wait on the liner notes, right? I'm here.
[ maybe it's a good thing ichiro can't see his expression right now. there's shock at first, unguarded as they come, upon hearing this little harebrained scheme has been going on all break. it's a miracle he didn't find out about it, but it's not like he was consciously searching for any clues... still, it's a nice surprise, and of course his own sister would conspire against him.
even she knows what that mixtape sounded like. the little brat. ]
You don't even wanna wait until we're inside?
[ he's clearly stalling. there's no way he can just put his heart out like that without any preparation, and he's pretty much scrambling internally to figure out how to do just that. ]
[ ichiro counters back with a question, because he does have a point. ichiro did in fact haul his ass all the way out to yokohama to do this, because he is maybe completely head over heels for this person, who basically has become his other half. (as their friends always say; they're two of a kind.)
he turns around, leaving the door unlocked but not opened. a brief moment of privacy, and ichiro leans back against the door instead and shoves his hands in his pockets. his foot's jittering, a sign he might be thinking too much, a little too giddy and anticipatory and fighting the urge to blurt everything out all at once. samatoki has this way of turning him into a puppy, sometimes.
instead, he says, very cool: ] Can I tell you what I thought, first? I said I would.
[ ichiro isn't the only one thinking too much, isn't the only one nervous as fuck. samatoki's body language doesn't betray a single thing about how he's probably dying on the inside, but it's a lot more obvious in his eyes. the way he can't seem to look at ichiro directly, avoiding his gaze. ]
Sure. Go ahead.
[ it'll give him time to put together what he wants to say, so by all means. ]
[ he's running almost on pure bravado here, pure confidence. he's also kind of dying on the inside, and it's a little more obvious: he's latched onto that confidence that's led him from step to step in his life but his ears are bright red and he's trying to hold onto the last shred of his coolness. he's right. ichiro knows he's right.
ichiro knows samatoki likes him. that's what brought him to his doorstep today, in the middle of winter break, when he should be sleeping or enjoying time away from college life. even away from his roommate.
not. being away from samatoki has sucked. every minute of it just threw the fact that ichiro has been nursing a thing for him for months further into the light. he's going to take that wild bravado and run with it, now, so he takes a deep breath and spills it all out right there on the concrete between them. ] I don't know if you sampled it from yourself, or from the internet, or whatever, but it's called heartbeat for a reason. I know you called it that because you were trying to say something, but I think you wouldn't tell me about it because it's about us.
[ there. he doesn't feel fragile or anything having confessed it: he's fairly sure in the result he's going to get, too, and so ichiro keeps going, voice low, spurred on by his own thinking, starting to smile even if the color on his face is spreading to his cheeks. his heart's going so fast against his ribcage he can hear it rushing in his ears, but ichiro just takes that as motivation. time to go. ]
Samatoki, I--shit, man, I've liked you for so long I don't even know when it started. We've only been apart for like, three days, and I can barely stand it-- obviously. [ accompanied with a little huff of a laugh, because he is in fact laughing at himself for this ridiculous move that he just pulled. if he was wrong, it would've been mortifying. ]
So if I'm right, and it is you confessing, then I think you're a chicken-- [ another little laugh, and his smile's so wide he's got dimples, now, a little mischievous. ] --but I'll put the words to it, if you can't. I want to go out with you, I want to stay with you, I really want to kiss you. A lot. I don't have a mixtape, or anything like that, but--I want you to accept my feelings, anyway.
[ ichiro doesn't even offer an out, a "if you don't want to if you don't have to." he's as sure as ever.
[ samatoki feels like he should have seen this coming from miles away.
ichiro has always been the first between them to initiate anything, the type to run head first into trouble even if he can't see what's waiting for him at the end. the idiot calls it bravado, but samatoki would be the only one to call it cocky and stupid. this time, however, he can't really call it that; this time, it's just ichiro beating him to the punch. he thought he'd been so clever, putting together a mixtape with all the songs he'd worked on over the past school year just so ichiro wouldn't pick up on the fact that one song is supposed to be about them.
but of course ichiro had picked up on it. of course he figured it out, practically from day one. it's not like samatoki can really hide anything from the guy — not when he's able to read him like an open book. his thoughts and feelings laid out in the open, just as ichiro is doing the same with all of his.
he doesn't say anything for the longest time, too busy listening to his own heartbeat trying to rattle its way out of his own ribcage. it beats loud and fast, wild with the same emotions he tried to convey in one track. he doesn't think it would be enough, knows that ichiro deserves so much more than one song but he's never been good with words. he's spent his entire life keeping it all in more than spitting out what's on his mind, and that's always given him grief. he doesn't really want that to happen here.
not when this is the first time he's been so sure of something in his life.
he closes the gap between them, each step taken bring him closer and closer. close enough to reach out for ichiro's hand just so he place it on his chest, right on top of his heart. it beats even stronger now, probably out of fear, it's written all over the red hues of his eyes.
ichiro took the leap first — ]
... Had to jam a mic up my chest and neck, just so you could hear it. But it's all for you, Ichiro. [ here, his expression softens (and he doesn't know why his hand won't stop shaking). ] I made that song for you.
[ — and this is samatoki following right after him, just so he can catch up and pull him in for a kiss. ]
[ that pause is the longest one of ichiro's entire life. he's practically holding his breath, waiting, and in the end
he was right. ichiro likes being right, in general. it's been the reason for many dumb arguments with samatoki in the past (which style of rap is better, old school or new school; why his coffee with ten sugars is perfectly fine compared to samatoki's hipster pourover; the room temperature on the thermostat) but he's never been happier to be right in his entire life.
it's not so cliched as for there to be an upswell of music in the background or anything, but the butterflies are still there. they're maybe more of triumph than they are of being startled or in love, but ichiro can't help but start to smile as he finishes -- it's all for you, Ichiro--as he puts his hand to samatoki's chest.
ichiro's fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, and he has to force himself to stop smiling long enough to kiss him back. it's soft but sure, just the press of their mouths together, and whatever he imagined this turning out like is nothing compared to the real thing. ichiro surges forward the bit between them and lets go of his shirt to cup his cheeks, instead, hold him there and savor the kiss, eyes fluttering shut immediately, heartbeat so quick in his chest it might match the song.
he holds it for a long moment, and only pulls back enough to smile at him in the space. it's not his usual, ear to ear grin: it's softer and warmer, something private and happy. nemu might kill them for being late for dinner, but right now he doesn't care. ] Then I'm definitely accepting your feelings. [ the response is a little cheesy, but he's giddy. ] And returning them. A lot. Fuck, I don't know how I'm gonna top that. You win.
[ he laughs, breathless, and ducks in to kiss him again, just because he can. ]
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if you really, seriously, want me to turn around and leave, i will.
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( tsun. )
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don't worry he has a big gay doki. ]
it's not really a waste coming to see you, but
i am pretty broke after this, lol.
worth it. five minutes? about to get off the train.
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then you shouldnt have come here, you brat
but i'll see you soon
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ichiro steps off of the jr train just a little later, looking from left to right, his trademark red headphones over his ears. he's never actually been to samatoki's, so he has no idea where he's going. he looks a little bit like a lost puppy.
and it only gets worse, because he spots samatoki and his cool bike and brightens. you can almost see the tail wagging when he jogs over towards him, grinning from ear to ear. ] Samatoki!
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That's Samatoki-san. [ he puts his cigarette away, probably for the best, and he straightens up. ] Maybe I shoulda let you walk to my place instead.
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look at those dimples. what a happy puppy. he laughs, shrugs his shoulders. ] I wouldn't have known where to go. [ looking earnest, almost, towards the bike. ] Thanks for coming anyway.
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Haa? Maybe I shoulda just texted you the address. Instead of coming to pick you up when it's this cold out.
( despite what he says, he's offering ichiro his other helmet. )
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even something as simple as sharing this bike is giving him butterflies. ichiro swings a leg over the back of the bike and slides out of the way to make space for samatoki, smiling up at him. it's still huge: even with the glass visor of the helmet, you can see his dimples. ] It's gonna be worth your while, anyway, promise.
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( the sarcasm doesn't have any bite to it, really, just as playful and annoying as ichiro's teasing. he only hops on his bike once ichiro makes room for him, a practiced routine between the two of them. he slips on his helmet because he isn't an idiot, but it's not like he's planning on driving recklessly — not when he has precious cargo to transport. )
Hold tight.
( it's the only warning ichiro gets before he starts up the engine, making sure he's got their balance right before he rolls them out into the busy streets. thankfully the travel time isn't that long, even with the current rush-hour traffic. he doesn't live that far from the station anyway, so it's only a matter of time before he's pulling up at his usual parking spot.
with ichiro still in one piece, he hopes. )
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so when samatoki says "hold tight" ichiro's happy to listen. he wraps his arms around his waist like it's a perfect fit, bare hands coming to curl underneath his leather jacket, letting the warmth of samatoki's body heat keep his fingers from freezing even with the yokohama breeze.
he's used to his driving, but it doesn't mean that ichiro doesn't hold on tight, anyway, relishing in the closeness, pressed next to his shoulder and closing his eyes as they drive, and the world melts away to just old cologne and cigarette smoke and the back that's always in front of him. as they arrive, it takes him a moment to release, fingers slowly loosening from samatoki's shirt before he pushes himself to a full sitting position.
ichiro takes off the helmet and shakes out his wild dark hair, then looks at the actual apartment itself (and it's hard to take his eyes off of the burning star in front of him, but he'll try.) ] Thanks for having me. [ maybe a little teasing; he did kind of wheedle his way into coming over. ]
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he takes off his helmet too, shuffling his pockets for the house keys before tossing them at ichiro. the reason for it becomes clear when he grabs the helmet he leant him, because he sure isn't the one opening the door. gonna make ichiro work for it, a little. ]
Yeah, yeah. Figures something was up when I noticed Nemu preparing more food than necessary. [ he gestures at the door with a jerk of his head. ] Go ahead.
[ he'll follow. ]
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he turns that sunshine smile back to the door to turn the key in the lock, though, pleased that samatoki now has seen through his little plan. though, admittedly, ichiro can't take all the credit... ] Nemu-chan and I've been conspiring all break. Since I got the mixtape. Most of it was her idea, actually, once I told her I--
[ he pauses as he turns the key, then looks over his shoulder at samatoki, sunshine in its human form. the smile's softened just a little, his cheeks going a nice shade of red, as he seems to get flustered. ] ...well, you know.
[ he hasn't unlocked the door yet, though, hand on the doorknob. ] You told me I was going to have to wait on the liner notes, right? I'm here.
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even she knows what that mixtape sounded like. the little brat. ]
You don't even wanna wait until we're inside?
[ he's clearly stalling. there's no way he can just put his heart out like that without any preparation, and he's pretty much scrambling internally to figure out how to do just that. ]
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[ ichiro counters back with a question, because he does have a point. ichiro did in fact haul his ass all the way out to yokohama to do this, because he is maybe completely head over heels for this person, who basically has become his other half. (as their friends always say; they're two of a kind.)
he turns around, leaving the door unlocked but not opened. a brief moment of privacy, and ichiro leans back against the door instead and shoves his hands in his pockets. his foot's jittering, a sign he might be thinking too much, a little too giddy and anticipatory and fighting the urge to blurt everything out all at once. samatoki has this way of turning him into a puppy, sometimes.
instead, he says, very cool: ] Can I tell you what I thought, first? I said I would.
o i didn't realize i swapped brackets oops
Sure. Go ahead.
[ it'll give him time to put together what he wants to say, so by all means. ]
u hipster with ur fancy brackets
ichiro knows samatoki likes him. that's what brought him to his doorstep today, in the middle of winter break, when he should be sleeping or enjoying time away from college life. even away from his roommate.
not. being away from samatoki has sucked. every minute of it just threw the fact that ichiro has been nursing a thing for him for months further into the light. he's going to take that wild bravado and run with it, now, so he takes a deep breath and spills it all out right there on the concrete between them. ] I don't know if you sampled it from yourself, or from the internet, or whatever, but it's called heartbeat for a reason. I know you called it that because you were trying to say something, but I think you wouldn't tell me about it because it's about us.
[ there. he doesn't feel fragile or anything having confessed it: he's fairly sure in the result he's going to get, too, and so ichiro keeps going, voice low, spurred on by his own thinking, starting to smile even if the color on his face is spreading to his cheeks. his heart's going so fast against his ribcage he can hear it rushing in his ears, but ichiro just takes that as motivation. time to go. ]
Samatoki, I--shit, man, I've liked you for so long I don't even know when it started. We've only been apart for like, three days, and I can barely stand it-- obviously. [ accompanied with a little huff of a laugh, because he is in fact laughing at himself for this ridiculous move that he just pulled. if he was wrong, it would've been mortifying. ]
So if I'm right, and it is you confessing, then I think you're a chicken-- [ another little laugh, and his smile's so wide he's got dimples, now, a little mischievous. ] --but I'll put the words to it, if you can't. I want to go out with you, I want to stay with you, I really want to kiss you. A lot. I don't have a mixtape, or anything like that, but--I want you to accept my feelings, anyway.
[ ichiro doesn't even offer an out, a "if you don't want to if you don't have to." he's as sure as ever.
(inwardly, he's flipping out too.) ]
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ichiro has always been the first between them to initiate anything, the type to run head first into trouble even if he can't see what's waiting for him at the end. the idiot calls it bravado, but samatoki would be the only one to call it cocky and stupid. this time, however, he can't really call it that; this time, it's just ichiro beating him to the punch. he thought he'd been so clever, putting together a mixtape with all the songs he'd worked on over the past school year just so ichiro wouldn't pick up on the fact that one song is supposed to be about them.
but of course ichiro had picked up on it. of course he figured it out, practically from day one. it's not like samatoki can really hide anything from the guy — not when he's able to read him like an open book. his thoughts and feelings laid out in the open, just as ichiro is doing the same with all of his.
he doesn't say anything for the longest time, too busy listening to his own heartbeat trying to rattle its way out of his own ribcage. it beats loud and fast, wild with the same emotions he tried to convey in one track. he doesn't think it would be enough, knows that ichiro deserves so much more than one song but he's never been good with words. he's spent his entire life keeping it all in more than spitting out what's on his mind, and that's always given him grief. he doesn't really want that to happen here.
not when this is the first time he's been so sure of something in his life.
he closes the gap between them, each step taken bring him closer and closer. close enough to reach out for ichiro's hand just so he place it on his chest, right on top of his heart. it beats even stronger now, probably out of fear, it's written all over the red hues of his eyes.
ichiro took the leap first — ]
... Had to jam a mic up my chest and neck, just so you could hear it. But it's all for you, Ichiro. [ here, his expression softens (and he doesn't know why his hand won't stop shaking). ] I made that song for you.
[ — and this is samatoki following right after him, just so he can catch up and pull him in for a kiss. ]
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he was right. ichiro likes being right, in general. it's been the reason for many dumb arguments with samatoki in the past (which style of rap is better, old school or new school; why his coffee with ten sugars is perfectly fine compared to samatoki's hipster pourover; the room temperature on the thermostat) but he's never been happier to be right in his entire life.
it's not so cliched as for there to be an upswell of music in the background or anything, but the butterflies are still there. they're maybe more of triumph than they are of being startled or in love, but ichiro can't help but start to smile as he finishes -- it's all for you, Ichiro--as he puts his hand to samatoki's chest.
ichiro's fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, and he has to force himself to stop smiling long enough to kiss him back. it's soft but sure, just the press of their mouths together, and whatever he imagined this turning out like is nothing compared to the real thing. ichiro surges forward the bit between them and lets go of his shirt to cup his cheeks, instead, hold him there and savor the kiss, eyes fluttering shut immediately, heartbeat so quick in his chest it might match the song.
he holds it for a long moment, and only pulls back enough to smile at him in the space. it's not his usual, ear to ear grin: it's softer and warmer, something private and happy. nemu might kill them for being late for dinner, but right now he doesn't care. ] Then I'm definitely accepting your feelings. [ the response is a little cheesy, but he's giddy. ] And returning them. A lot. Fuck, I don't know how I'm gonna top that. You win.
[ he laughs, breathless, and ducks in to kiss him again, just because he can. ]