Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4517763.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_4
  Relationship:
      Adachi_Tohru/Seta_Souji, Adachi_Tohru/Narukami_Yu, Hanamura_Yosuke/Seta
      Souji, Hanamura_Yosuke/Narukami_Yu
  Additional Tags:
      Unrequited_Love, Abuse, Dubious_Consent, Emotional_Manipulation,
      Gaslighting, Unhappy_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-08-07 Words: 25460
****** I Knew This Kid Who Wanted to Find Himself in Your Arms ******
by pennysparkle
Summary
     Admittedly, it doesn’t take Souji long to fall in love with
     Yosuke—but everything feels heady in how good it is between them, so
     how is he supposed to know that Yosuke really doesn’t feel that way
     for him in return? And how is he supposed to know that it’s going to
     break him down so much that he turns in exactly the wrong direction?
Notes
     for a friend.
See the end of the work for more notes
There's this particular way that Yosuke looks at him sometimes, like he can't
believe Souji is real. It's always a short look, one that Souji catches for a
second or two before the smile is stifled and Yosuke turns away—and in that
span Souji is smiling and turning away too, because he has yet to understand
how any of this could really, truly have happened to him. People don't just get
this lucky. Especially not someone like him, used to spending most moments
alone, used to holding himself back. To have someone come along and fill those
blank spaces so effortlessly? It just can't be real.
Needless to say, he's never felt like this before, between short term friends
and acquaintances quickly forgotten, parents whose interests are always
inwardly-focused and whose attention span for him is woefully short. He's never
had anyone like Yosuke; this is almost certainly the first time in his life
he's really understood what it's like to desire someone's presence so
intensely, and to have his own presence desired just as much in return.
It's a good thing, too. Souji's riding high on the wave of inside jokes he's
never been able to make before, of pointless phone conversations that last
hours and have him laughing until his stomach aches, of hanging out and going
to eat and spending almost every single moment with Yosuke. He has a best
friend—it's unbelievable.
But even though they're together constantly, there's bridges they haven't
crossed, not yet. Things like Souji's past and Yosuke's apparently complicated
relationship with Saki go undiscussed, and by Yosuke's request, they never
spend time with each other when they could be spending time with girls instead.
That last part is rarely a problem though.
The unbreached territory that's foremost on Souji's mind, however, is sleeping
over. He's never been close enough with someone to do this before, and to be
entirely honest, he's not really sure what it entails, aside from the
aforementioned sleeping, and probably playing games or something. But what
he does know is that they're finally going to do it.
It makes him a little nervous, except he's also excited at the same time,
because maybe he's finally reached the place in life where there are people who
genuinely do want him around. Maybe it's okay to let himself feel like this, to
want to be around Yosuke so badly that he knows he should feel scared—something
he only manages when they're not together and he lets his thoughts start
getting to him.
At any rate, they've finally gotten the okay, both from Yosuke's mom and
Dojima, and he's going to spend the night at Yosuke's. His footsteps are light
and rhythmic as he walks the familiar path to his house, trying not to feel too
excited—but there's that weird tingle in his stomach that makes him all anxious
and jumpy, like when he was six and his parents promised to take him to Disney.
The difference is that they can't take this back last minute like they did
then, so he's thinking he doesn't have much to worry about.
It feels good. The air is cool on his skin, contrasted with the warmth of the
sun overhead, breeze blowing through the trees as kids laugh and play a couple
streets over. There's a stray around here that meows at him when he passes by
sometimes, and it does so now, following at his heels for several feet in the
hopes that he'll feed it. It makes him feel bad, but he doesn't have anything
to give it today except for the couple minutes he spends petting it, and then
he's heading on his way again, soon knocking at the front door of Yosuke's
house like he's done so many times before.
It whips open so quickly that Souji almost wonders if Yosuke had been standing
there waiting, and he sounds breathless but pleased. "Hey, partner."
"Hey." Souji shifts the bag on his shoulder, feeling the weight of clothes and
not much else. He'd spent the afternoon assessing his room for anything he
should bring, but in the end, the only thing he'd added to it was his
toothbrush from the bathroom.
Now, standing in the doorway, he feels woefully underprepared, like he's on the
cusp of something even though he's been over to Yosuke's several times before.
He's met his mom and dad, been in his room, sat on his bed... so this shouldn't
be anything new. But it feels like it's going to be.
As he steps over the threshold, he holds his breath. It's mostly symbolic, a
thought that he's somehow leaving a part of himself behind outside this door—a
part full of loneliness that's weighed him down forever. He realizes how silly
it is; why should this, of all things, remove that sadness from him?
But it's a start, maybe. As he follows Yosuke up to his room, pausing on the
way to say good evening to his mother, he feels like it's a start.
"I found a bunch of movies we can watch tonight," Yosuke says, tossing aside a
stack of DVDs as he belatedly attempts to straighten up his bed. The whole room
is a little bit cluttered, his uniform on the floor where he'd probably changed
out of it after school, volumes of Shounen Jump and music magazines littering
most surfaces. By now, Souji's used to it. "Or we could play games, I guess?"
"Anything is fine with me," says Souji, and he means it. Yosuke could want to
sit in complete silence and it'd probably be okay with him. What it really
comes down to is having his presence: something he's gotten so attached to that
he doesn't know what he'd do without it, at this point.
"Mom said we could order Aiya for dinner, so let's watch the movie then,"
Yosuke says. He seems just as unorganized about this as Souji does, though
he'd said he'd had sleepovers before. "Hey, let me show you some of the new
music I found the other night."
At least this is something Souji's used to, a ritual Yosuke maintains almost
every time he comes over, and Souji likes it because Yosuke does. Plus, there's
something comforting about the lack of conversation between them as music plays
in the background, no obligation to speak, just companionable existence, the
knowledge that they're together.
Yosuke goes to sit down in front of his computer, clicking around until
something with too-loud guitars and drums that vibrate along the floor starts
playing. It's in English, and Souji doesn't tax himself too much trying to
understand it. He's just relieved that Yosuke comes back and sits down beside
him, their sides pressed together.
It feels like the sun finally rising on a cloudy day, its glow spilling warmly
over the face until you can't help but smile. It's like eating a cookie that's
still gooey from the oven, like curling up in cool, freshly-washed sheets after
a day that's too hot, like the first stretch when you wake up in the morning.
Those are the only ways Souji can think of to describe what it feels like,
being close to Yosuke.
He's not clueless; he knows what he feels, and what he feels is weird. Not
because Yosuke is a guy, but because he's never felt like this with anyone, and
it's unsettling that he has to feel it now. It's never been a problem
before—he's never had to tell himself not to develop a crush, because there's
never been anyone close enough to warrant having a crush. It's made things
easier.
But all these years, he's been trying to hold off. It'd be alright if he waited
until he was in college—at least there he'd be an adult, ready to make his own
decisions, living on his own, able to stay if he wanted to. That's always been
his goal: wait until college, and then you can make friends. Then you can fall
in love.
He'd never wanted to do any of this here, but it's too late for that now. And
even if Yosuke were to feel like that for him in return, Souji would be leaving
at the end of the school year anyway. He can't do that to someone. So it's
easier to keep his feelings quiet, low-boiling, because never getting a taste
is easier than having to let go, even if he wonders what could come of it.
Yosuke's face is turned away, his foot tapping against the floor where it hangs
down over the edge of the bed, fingers drumming his thigh in time with the
beat, and Souji watches him carefully. He's too weak to stop himself from
wondering what it would be like to hold that hand, bony-fingered and slim.
Would it feel as good as he thinks it would?
"I like this song," Yosuke says suddenly. It's changed to something else now;
Souji hasn't been listening that closely, and he still isn't.
"Yeah. It's good," he lies, physically ripping his gaze away from Yosuke's
hands, because he knows that he really needs to stop thinking about this stuff
before he gets carried away. But it's hard when he can see them out of the
corner of his eye, still drumming.
At least Yosuke's mom is knocking at the door within a few minutes, asking what
they want for dinner, and he manages to distract himself in the form of
huddling around the menu she slips in to figure it out. They're sitting
together—close, but friendly. Never more than that.
Once they've made their decisions and Yosuke has run out of music to show him,
they start some ghost movie, sitting on Yosuke's bed with their legs
outstretched and their shoulders pressed together. Souji's not scared of these
sorts of thing; he hadn't realized that Yosuke was, except that he keeps
jumping every so often, and it travels through the point where their shoulders
are just barely brushing to vibrate through Souji.
His attention was tenuous to begin with, but as time passes he completely stops
bothering to keep up with the plot. Instead he's hyperaware of Yosuke's heat,
the overly-masculine scent of his hair, the fact that he's way too close for
comfort.
Would he really be able to make it through the entire year like this? He's been
here for two months—everything has happened so fast—and already he feels like
he'll never be able to forget or let go of Chie or Yukiko, and now Kanji too.
These kinds of situations go a long way to form instantaneous bonds.
And that's not to mention Yosuke. What would he do without Yosuke? How could he
go back home to Tokyo knowing that all it took was two months to make this kind
of connection, to find his best friend, to fall for him? How could Souji make
it another nine months being with him every day, growing closer and closer with
him, all while keeping these feelings at bay? It seems impossible, especially
when he's having difficulty refraining from just leaning his head against
Yosuke's shoulder right now.
At that exact moment, there's another knock on the door, and they both
practically fall off the bed—Yosuke in fear and Souji in surprise (and a hint
of guilt, though it's not like he'd gotten caught doing something bad).
"Dinner's here," says Yosuke's mom, poking her head inside and brandishing a
tray full of plastic-wrapped bowls at them.
Yosuke is eager to brush off his embarrassment, hopping up and pausing the
movie before coming forward to take it from her. "Thanks, mom."
"Thank you, Hanamura-san," Souji's quick to follow up with. She smiles at him,
dipping her head in return, and then closes the door behind her.
Yosuke plops down beside him in the same position as before, passing him a beef
bowl and keeping a tray of spicy pork for himself. The movie gets unpaused,
they dig in, and this time, Souji focuses on his food rather than the closeness
of Yosuke—which isn't an easy feat. During the more gory parts of the movie, he
seems a little nauseous, and Souji figures it's not too much to rub his back
through it, until the moment has passed and he can pick up his chopsticks
again. But the warmth lingers on his hands, making him want.
Despite his persistent thoughts, this feels nice, though. Whatever he'd
expected from a sleepover, it turns out it's kind of just like hanging out with
Yosuke, but more of it. He doesn't have to worry about the hours waning away,
doesn't think about how he'd usually have to leave once the movie's ended and
the emptied bowls of food have been placed aside. And the moment where they
turn their backs on each other to change into more comfortable clothes is brand
new and kind of exciting in what it symbolizes to Souji. He's actually going
to sleep here.
What he hadn't realized was the fact that being close to Yosuke for such an
extended amount of time would, of course, result in his mounting inability to
ignore these feelings. When they're together for the afternoon, it's
alright—Souji will just go home at the end of it and cool down, ease away from
his desire. Even when they're in the TV for what feels like hours, fighting
against each others backs, it's okay, because there's a distraction.
But this leaves him anxious. He's almost grateful when he starts yawning, but
they're halfway into another movie (this one some action/comedy mixture that
Yosuke keeps chuckling at quietly) and he refuses to fall asleep, stubbornly
wanting to squeeze in every ounce of time he can get.
Yosuke has leaned a little closer as the hours have passed, a comforting weight
that Souji leans into in return. He's pretty sure it's a conscious move.
It feels like that. Like Yosuke wants to be as close to him as he wants to be
to Yosuke.
The way his eyes flick to the side and meet Souji's may as well be confirmation
of that fact. And he doesn't mean to do it, knows it's a terrible idea—that
just because he wants this doesn't mean he should give in. But Souji tilts his
head in and presses his lips awkwardly to Yosuke's, and he's holding his breath
and staying perfectly still as he does it. The room feels so quiet that it
rings in his ears, the air pressing down on him heavily.
It could work out. This could be it. Things could go in a new and perfect
direction for them—the transition from friends to something more as smooth as
anything with them has been so far. As bad as he knows getting his hopes up is,
he can't help it, because this feels so right, from the way Yosuke's mouth
matches his so well, to the way they're leaning toward each other, meeting
halfway—
And then Yosuke pulls away, and something in Souji's chest lurches as his eyes
open. The look on his face isn't a good one; it's embarrassed, ashamed, a quirk
to his mouth that reads as disgust. In that moment, Souji's heart may as well
just shatter completely.
"Haha... that's a weird idea of a joke, partner," Yosuke says after a few
seconds of painful silence. His voice is shaky around the edges—just as shaky
as the smile Souji tries to put on his face.
"Ah... yeah. I guess so." To his own ears, he sounds like the biggest liar in
the world right now. Yosuke probably realizes it too, but he's trying not to
make this awkward. Trying not to ruin them. Souji's thankful for at least that
much.
He's not sure how he'd expected them to sleep during the night, but whatever it
was, Yosuke now offers him the couch in the living room, and he takes it. In
the darkness, surrounded by what belongs to Yosuke, he no longer feels so
comfortable as he did before.
===============================================================================
Things have changed irreparably between them before the clock even chimes
midnight, and after a night of bad sleep, Souji gets up the next morning and
leaves before Yosuke can come out of his room, politely thanking his mother and
telling her that unfortunately, Nanako needed him at home. He feels like a
coward for not being willing to face Yosuke, but he just can't take spending a
few more hours with him, knowing that his misstep would be on both of their
minds.
He spends Sunday mustering his courage, coming up with an apology and a way he
can explain to Yosuke why he did what he did, and why it won't be a problem
again. He'd gotten the message, loud and clear.
But he doesn't expect Yosuke to act so distant with him at school the following
Monday, and it hurts, the way he brushes Souji off when he asks to talk at
lunch or after school. He turns him down twice, eyes glancing away quickly both
times. They used to linger on Souji's. Not anymore, though.
That week, Yosuke manages to become a master of disappearance, vanishing
quickly every time Souji makes his way toward him. By the end of it, it's
become unbearable. Souji doesn't know what he's supposed to do to make it
better, because Yosuke won't speak to him, and trying to ignore it had no
effect at all but to make him even more miserable. He almost managed to bring
it up with him once, when the entire Investigation Team met on the roof for
lunch, but that just made him more avoidant. He'd even texted him an apology,
but Yosuke had acted clueless and asked what he was apologizing for, then
stopped responding at all.
He can't take it back, and the worst part is that he doesn't even want to. He
still feels the same way as he did before. Maybe what it comes down to, in the
end, is that he just wishes Yosuke's reaction had been different, that Yosuke
still wanted to be around him, that this hadn't been enough to destroy what
he'd thought was a solid foundation. Souji wouldn't have minded being rejected
so much if only it didn't result in him being ignored without any chance to
explain himself and apologize, because it's not the kiss he regrets; it's that
he'd messed things up, and that it doesn't seem like there's any way to repair
it now.
In the evenings, he's spending more of his time alone, finishing up his club
activities and then going home to cook for Dojima and Nanako. The dishes have
become more and more elaborate from night to night, taking up an increasing
amount of time so he doesn't have to think about the fact that he's alone. Or
rather, he's still got his friends, but not his best friend. And being around
them isn't the same anymore.
What would they think of him if they knew? Setting aside the fact that most of
them were acquainted with Yosuke first, he just can't see any situation in
which he comes out for the better. It's easier to hope things cool off first,
that Yosuke will come around and none of this will escalate any further.
A couple nights later he's home early as has become tradition, breading pieces
of pork, his hands sticky and unable to pick up the phone when it rings. But
Nanako wanders into the kitchen within a few minutes, informing him that it was
Dojima, and that Adachi would be joining them. That's probably good. There's
always a lot of leftovers, and he's been packing a few less bento since the
incident, seeing as Yosuke's not around to eat them. Having somebody to take an
extra portion or two would be nice—and the company would be even nicer.
Souji likes Adachi, but he can never quite coax him into coming over on his
own, or even manage more than twenty minutes to see him on certain days. He
says it's weird to hang out together, and Souji gets that. They likely don't
have much in common when it comes down to it, but that doesn't stop him from
being curious about Adachi.
The front door rattles open a little past seven, when Souji's about done frying
the pork, and the house fills with chatter suddenly. He wipes his hands off on
a towel, goes over to say hello, and for that split second when their eyes
meet, Adachi smiles at him.
It's pitiful. This is the first time in weeks that he's felt like somebody was
a little bit pleased to see him, and he eats it right up, smiling back in a
manner that feels all too eager.
"Aah... it smells so good in here. Dojima-san, why do you get to hog all this
good cooking to yourself?" Adachi whines, nudging his way past to follow Souji
into the kitchen and look over his shoulder as he starts to cut up the breaded
pork.
"It's almost ready," Souji says, overly conscious of Adachi's presence against
his back. He feels starved for something as simple as the atmosphere of
another's body. "Do you want something to drink, Adachi-san?"
Instead of answering normally, Adachi leans in and whispers against his ear.
Souji shivers, can't help it—and has it always been this easy to provoke a
reaction from him? Or is he just particularly tuned in to any attention he gets
now that he doesn't have Yosuke's?
"I'll take one of Dojima-san's beers. It'll be our secret, okay?"
"Okay," Souji whispers back, heart hammering in his chest. He glances back to
see if anyone else has noticed, but Dojima's probably in the bathroom washing
up, and Nanako is entranced by the television.
He holds his breath until Adachi leaves the kitchen to sit down on the couch in
the living room. After a couple seconds, he hears him start talking to Nanako
about something, but there's a roaring in his ears, a white noise hum that's
been there since that night with Yosuke and that never quite recedes. He
actually finds himself surprised at the sudden silence in his head—but it's
disappointingly momentary.
What is he supposed to do? He can't keep going on like this, can't draw back in
on himself. Not when it felt like he was finally going to be happy. If only
people made him feel the way Adachi just had, like he was worth the attention.
"Need help?" Dojima asks, breaking his reverie, only he's already taking up two
of the filled bowls and moving over to the table without Souji's confirmation.
One of them gets placed down in front of Nanako, and he pats her absently on
the head before sliding the other in front of Adachi and dropping tiredly onto
the couch.
Not a moment passes before he grumbles, "Is that my beer?"
But Souji tunes out again. At least it doesn't feel empty here—Adachi is a good
addition to their dinners, which isn't to say that dinner's not good if he
isn't around. Just that when it's only Souji and Nanako, both of them realize
how quiet the house is, and that even when Dojima is here, things are just...
not lively. Not like it is when Adachi is here, like it's really a full house.
Souji finishes up and brings the last two bowls over, seating himself beside
Nanako, and over dinner that night he finds himself smiling and laughing more
than he probably has in the past week and a half. It's nice to sit and eat with
them.
Still, it doesn't last long, and when it's all over and he's cleaned up the
dishes, then trudged up the stairs to do his homework, that loneliness begins
to settle back in. With a sigh, he flops down on the couch, resting his hands
on his stomach.
What had he done? He should have known better than to kiss Yosuke—should have
known that he'd never want Souji like that, because he's never that lucky. But
maybe he'd thought... the long looks, the tiny intimacies of their friendship,
the way they both took every chance to be together—he'd thought maybe
that meant something. He guesses he was just blinded by the smile Yosuke
reserved only for him, how he admitted things to Souji that he'd never admitted
to anyone, the way his hand would linger whenever he'd slap Souji on the back.
He thinks about those hands more than he should—imagines them even now, when
he knows he shouldn't.
In his thoughts he can picture what it would have been like if Yosuke had felt
the same, what it would have felt like to have his hands brushing over Souji's
back and then down to rest hesitantly on his hips. If Yosuke's lips had parted
instead of staying still underneath Souji's, if he'd pushed closer to him—and
Souji knows he shouldn't be getting turned on by the thought of it, because
he's going to feel miserable and awful afterward, but he pushes his hand down
under the waistband of his lounge pants anyway, rubbing momentarily against the
outline of his cock in his underwear.
His eyes are shut so tightly. Behind his lids he can pretend that Yosuke would
have touched him like this, his fingers wrapping hesitantly but surely around
him.
It's not even all Souji would have wanted from him, though. He likes the
thought of kissing him better, kissing him until he turns red in the face and
his hands keep tightening up compulsively around Souji's shoulders. It's enough
to have him pushing his hips up into his own hand, lips parted on a moan.
"Souji-kun?" There's a knock at the door and then it pushes open. Adachi stands
there almost as bewildered as Souji is, and he hurriedly takes his hand out of
his pants, but that might make it more awkward.
Nevertheless, Adachi steps inside instead of going away like Souji had hoped he
would. He looks a little bit shocked, as if he wouldn't have expected it, but
really, it's Souji that's reeling the most from this. Why is he even in here?
Adachi flops down on the couch beside him (how is this anywhere close to
something normal?), looking at him very seriously. "I won't tell Dojima-san."
"... Oh. Alright." This is too awkward. Souji's face is burning.
Their gazes remain locked for another few seconds until Adachi's mouth turns to
a teasing grin. "So... looking at porn or something?"
His joking is almost as shocking as his presence, and Souji sputters. "Wh— no."
"Ehh... imagination, then?"
Souji wonders why Adachi is talking to him about this at all. But he likes
Adachi; he likes being around him, finds their small meetings in Junes and in
front of Moel with the dingy glow of streetlights shining down on them to be a
highlight, and maybe in a few years he'll be laughing about this instead of
feeling mortified. Besides, he's pitifully grateful that Adachi's stayed
instead of walking away like it feels everyone else has.
"Yeah," he says.
Adachi smiles at him. Souji can only look for a second, and then his gaze
drifts back to his lap. It's clear that he's still hard, and that's
embarrassing enough, but then Adachi must decide it's time to ask even more
humiliating questions.
"Thinking about one of those cute girls that's always hanging out with you?"
"No!" Souji sputters. He's never thought about them like that. It feels
disrespectful. Even thinking about Yosuke, especially after he's been rejected
by him, feels like he's doing something bad and wrong.
"Who was it then? Some girl you used to go to school with somewhere else?"
"No."
"Hm... a guy then?"
Souji can feel his face heat up further, and Adachi's smile gets wider, because
he knows he's caught him now.
"Somebody from around here?"
Souji hesitates, but then he nods, picking at a little ball of lint on his
pants. There's silence between them, a tight one that threads between one
moment and the next, anticipatory. He doesn't know what he expects Adachi to
say or do. All he knows is that he's anxious to find out.
"Have you ever done it with a girl, Souji-kun?"
That wasn't it. But Souji shakes his head.
"A guy? Anybody?"
Shakes it again.
"So you're a virgin?"
Nods.
"Man... I wouldn't have expected that. You're pretty popular around here,
y'know? You could get anybody you set your eye on."
Souji laughs mirthlessly. Everybody but Yosuke, apparently. "Sure."
"Hey. I'm just saying, you're good-looking. You should take advantage of that."
He doesn't realize he's doing it, and he feels like that's starting to become
some kind of horrible trend in his life lately, but Adachi is leaning in so
close and Souji's first reaction is to kiss him, the same way that he did with
Yosuke. It makes him feel desperate and disgusting as soon as his lips touch
Adachi's, and he's about to pull away on his own, not wanting to feel rejection
again so soon.
But Adachi kisses him back. He does what Yosuke didn't and he kisses Souji,
nudging his lips apart and putting his hand on Souji's waist to hold him there.
Not that he really needs to, because Souji is leaning into it, opening his
mouth for Adachi to let him push his tongue inside. It feels weird and foreign
but he likes the way Adachi keeps squeezing his hip, pulling him closer until
he's sitting in his lap.
He can feel that Adachi is hard underneath him. There's a thrill in that, and
right now he's so caught up that he pushes down, feeling the way his cock
strains against the fabric and Souji's ass.
"G-geez... if you keep this up, I'm not gonna be able to hold back," Adachi
mutters.
Like that's going to make a difference. He wants to do this with Souji, and
Souji really, really badly wants to feel wanted right now. At least then he can
forget about the fact that Yosuke doesn't, at least for a little while.
So he keeps grinding down until Adachi is gasping against his mouth, gripping
his hips and pulling at him harder. He welcomes it when Adachi pushes him back
for a second so that he can unbutton his work pants and get his cock out, and
the sight of it so hard is pleasing enough that Souji goes easily when he's
nudged down to suck on it.
It doesn't take long for him to find out how awkward this is going to be,
though. He's never done even this much before, and Adachi's cock is heavy in
his mouth as he licks over the head, lapping away precome. Adachi guides his
hand to wrap around the base, making it easier to take some of it tentatively
in his mouth—because his inexperience is starting to catch up with him, and he
feels nervous about doing this. What if he messes it up? What if Adachi stops
coming around after this? What if somebody catches them?
"Hey, don't be a tease," Adachi mutters, guiding him down with a hand in his
hair. It causes him to take in more than he probably should, choking a little,
but he pushes through it, soon managing to get a handle on the motions—rather,
he does the things that make Adachi moan, regardless of whether or not he
really thinks he can. It feels good to make him do that, to feel the tension in
his legs as he tries not to push up into Souji's mouth and eventually give in.
Souji likes that he can make him this eager.
But it's not long before he's asking for more, grabbing Souji by the shoulder
and giving him that innocent look. "Don't you want to feel good too?" he
wonders, resting his fingertips against Souji's neck.
This wasn't really about making himself feel good—it was about the intoxicating
feeling of his presence being desired... still, if Adachi is offering, he
doesn't see much reason to turn him down.
He takes his clothes off hurriedly, watching Adachi's face for any tinge of
disgust, but he finds none. Just an appreciative look as he sits down in his
lap again, feeling his cock nudge up against his ass. Where they're supposed to
go from here, he has no clue—he just knows he likes the way Adachi looks at
him, so hungry, his hands fitting around Souji's hips so that his middle finger
can press up against his hole.
Souji lets out a hiss of a breath, trying to keep his eyes focused on Adachi's.
It's embarrassing though, to be seen like this, to know what's coming.
"Lotion? You're at that age where there's gotta be plenty around here
somewhere," Adachi says.
Souji feels grateful for the momentary distraction from his own anxiety and
leans over to grab a bottle from the desk—the one single bottle in his room,
and also, it's not like he does this stuff that often. But that's not worth
protesting over, he assumes, and anyway Adachi soon has his fingers slicked and
coming back to press against Souji's hole. He shivers, full-bodied and gasping,
fighting the urge to arch away as one slips inside, because he's sure
he wants it. He just has to ride it out for a minute or two until it feels
good.
Slowly, Adachi presses in, his eyes focused downward in concentration. Souji's
trying to focus too, but the more he does, the more uncomfortable it feels, and
eventually he gives in to the bright idea of jerking himself off. At
least that feels better, and given enough time he feels alright with pushing
back and accepting another of Adachi's fingers.
"Geez... you're really gonna let me do this, huh. You're not even bothered by
it? You didn't have somebody else in mind?"
"No," Souji lies. "I want it to be you."
"You're... you're making it pretty hard to hold back, Souji-kun." As if to
emphasize his words, his fingers become more insistent as they push inside of
him, and Souji's starting to feel good, he thinks—or maybe it's just those
words from Adachi goading him on, the impatience of his actions. It's not long
before he's thrusting them in too roughly, and yet Souji's even pleased about
that, because Adachi is looking at him so intensely, like this is all he wants
in the world at this very moment, and Souji does too.
"That's enough. You can do it," he says.
The relief washes over Adachi's face and he's quick to rub a palmful of lotion
over his cock, soon pushing the head against Souji's ass. Souji's still,
waiting—this is going to be it, he's not going to be a virgin anymore,
someone's going to have wanted him enough to touch him like this—but Adachi
holds onto his hip and makes him sink down instead, and he feels so full
already, just from a few inches, so much that his eyebrows furrow and his head
falls forward between his shoulders.
"H-hey, it's alright, Souji-kun. You want to make me feel good, don't you? So
you can do it."
Souji nods, but he can't look up. He wants so badly for Adachi to like him, to
like this; he wants somebody to treat him the way Yosuke used to treat him, and
right now, Adachi's the one who's closest to doing that. So he keeps going,
forcing his body to open up and take Adachi's cock until he's sitting on his
hips and gasping quietly.
It feels too big, and his back feels strangely sore. But he's taking it, and
Adachi has a blissed-out look on his face as its fallen back against the couch,
his fingers twitching on Souji's hips.
It makes him smile, because Adachi looks a little bit goofy like this, but it's
pretty endearing at the same time. He guesses that describes a lot of things
about Adachi, though Souji's thoughts on the matter are quickly cut short by
impatience, hips nudging up into him in an effort to get him to move, and he
does—only slowly, doing his best to take his time because it still aches. But
it's hard to be patient when Adachi is looking at him like he's on the verge of
taking matters into his own hands.
So he takes as much time as he can manage, until Adachi is groaning and clawing
at Souji's hips, calling him a tease, using his grip to try and push him down.
In a way, it's flattering that he wants it so badly—and Souji thinks this isn't
a bad thing. He might have imagined too many scenarios in which he spent this
moment with Yosuke, but it's Adachi who's pleading with him and petting at him.
It's Adachi he lost this to. Not Yosuke. Someone who wants him.
He starts moving, his hands on Adachi's shoulders for balance. It feels odd,
but Adachi's gripping at his waist and he's moaning, pushing his hips up into
Souji in return, and maybe it's starting to feel good? He's not really sure.
All he knows is that he keeps going, one hand leaving Adachi's shoulder to jerk
himself off in the hopes that he can decide once and for all soon.
"S-souji-kun... you're so tight... you really weren't lying about being a
virgin," Adachi groans.
Hazy-eyed and confused, Souji's eyes find him. "Why would I?"
"Kids these days... always lie about these things..."
Souji doubts that, but he shrugs it off and keeps moving. By now it is starting
to feel okay, Adachi shifting his hips so that when he pushes up, it brushes
against something that has Souji stiffening up so sharply that Adachi's grip
becomes practically bruising.
"You're gonna... kill me, Souji-kun," Adachi pants.
He feels like he's going to die too, the way Adachi has started pushing into
that spot until he's so oversensitive he can't tell if it feels good or bad.
And he's moaning too, trying so hard to keep it down, because his family is
just downstairs, and if they were to hear—
Adachi shushes him, pushing his fingers into Souji's mouth suddenly, and he
bites down on them as gently as he can manage. They push against his tongue,
the back of his throat, and as turned on as he is by this, he doesn't feel
embarrassed to start sucking on them.
"Does it actually feel that good? Man, kids these days really are slutty once
you get a dick in them..." Adachi mutters, amused and breathless all at once.
Words like that should be enough to put him off, but Souji's so into it right
now—and he knows it's most likely a heat of the moment sort of thing. He just
sucks harder on Adachi's fingers, hoping to get his attention back to pushing
up into him.
And then there's a knock on the door. He tenses up suddenly, which is
apparently too much for Adachi, because he spills deep inside of him without
any kind of warning.
"Souji? Did Adachi come ask if you wanted cake like I told him to? Or is he
hiding out in the bathroom? ... I told him not to eat so fast," Dojima mutters
from outside.
"Tell him I'm helping you with homework," whispers Adachi.
He's too surprised right now to really process anything that's happening around
him. He can feel come dripping down the insides of his thighs, and Adachi is
impatiently shifting beneath him, giving him an urgent look.
He forces his mouth to move. "I got him to help me with some homework. Sorry,
uncle. I didn't mean to keep him."
"Ah... fine then. Just come down when you're done."
After a moment, his footsteps recede, and Adachi manages to push Souji off to
the other side of the couch. He's not sure what's happening here—is this really
the end? Already?
"Hehe... sorry. You can finish up on your own, right?" Adachi asks, pulling up
his pants and buttoning them again. There's a tiny stain of come there, but
it's soon hidden by his jacket.
Souji doesn't get to answer before he hastily leaves the room. He can feel the
come dripping out of him, and it's kind of... gross. He sighs, tugging a tissue
out of the box on his dresser and cleaning up as best he can. Then he flops
back on the sofa, no urge to take care of himself as Adachi had suggested.
He had felt better for a little while, but now he's just worse. And he knows
Adachi didn't mean to make him feel like this—like he'd been used, or like he
was something only momentary. Maybe that's just him thinking too much, feeling
sorry for himself because now that he's alone, his thoughts are right back on
Yosuke.
It's just easy to wonder if anyone is ever going to think about him like that.
And he wishes he didn't worry about it, because it's not like he wasn't living
a perfectly fulfilling life before or anything. He tentatively has real friends
for the first time, he makes good grades, he lives with two people who have
become his family and who love him. So why does he need anything else? Why does
it matter if Yosuke doesn't like him, or if Adachi just took something that
feels important and left like it was no big deal?
It's not a sadness. It's just an emptiness. The same emptiness that comes with
wanting something, but knowing not to expect it, and still being disappointed
when you don't get it, even though you'd promised yourself that
you weren't expecting it.
But even the emptiness feels bad, because a lifetime of living with it tells
him that he'll never get over it the way he could get over sadness. Emptiness
like that follows you around everywhere, a pit in your stomach, a sour taste in
your mouth. It lingers.
"Big bro? Do you feel alright?" Nanako asks through the door. He sits up
hurriedly, pulling on a new shirt and his lounge pants, and after checking his
reflection once to ensure that nothing is out of place, he opens the door.
"I'm fine. Sorry, Nanako. I was getting changed into something more
comfortable."
They go downstairs together, and there's a sliver of cake on a plate for him.
He keeps his eyes on it as he walks, telling himself that he shouldn't look for
anything from Adachi, but from his peripheral vision, he can tell that he
doesn't bother to even glance at him. And there's that disappointment, even
though he'd told himself not to expect anything.
===============================================================================
In the days that follow, Souji exists mostly in a state of confusion. He feels
like something should have changed inside of him, whether it be a loss of
feelings for Yosuke or a gain of some new desire. And while the latter is true,
he keeps it clutched tight in hand as he follows the routines of hanging out
with his friends and trying to avert attention from the fact that he and Yosuke
barely speak to each other during Investigation Team meetings. Things have to
seem normal.
They're not, though. They're still not, and at this point Souji wonders if they
ever will be. At least the pain of his rejection and subsequent avoidance is
now tempered down into something smaller, because Souji's thinking about Adachi
half of the time too. Instead of spending every spare moment worrying about
Yosuke, he's got something possibly bright and happy to focus on. Maybe.
Except he doesn't know where they're going to go from here. It occurs to him a
few times that this might have been a one time thing, but still he keeps an eye
out, avoiding the questions his friends ask him about who he's looking for. He
really wants to see Adachi at the same time as he doesn't, because what if he
just brushes Souji off? What if things turn out exactly like they had with
Yosuke?
It's not until a week later that he finally gets a glimpse of him. He's
loitering outside of Moel at night, the streetlamps casting his face in shadow,
eerily still. What he really gets up to out here is a mystery to Souji, but he
steps closer anyway, a thrill in his stomach at finally being close to him.
"Hello, Adachi-san."
"Huh? Oh, it's you," Adachi says, turning to look at him. The lights from above
glint in his eyes, tired and unfocused and fleetingly unsettling.
"Are you patrolling?"
"Nope. Taking a break! Dojima-san's got me working harder than I can take," he
complains, trailing off into a pout that's childish yet endearing.
Souji nods his head slightly—not in agreement, really. Sympathy, perhaps? But
he plows on. "Would you like to get something to eat?"
"Ehh... I dunno..."
"It'll be my treat."
Adachi is silent for a good thirty seconds before he finally shrugs. "Sure, why
not? Just don't tell your uncle."
Souji had expected them to walk up the street to Souzai Daigaku, or maybe
Aiya—what he hadn't seen coming was for Adachi to walk him to his car and usher
him inside. Before he can really process it, they're on the road to Okina City,
the air quiet between them.
"There's a nice cafe near the mall—" he starts, fully intending to make things
less awkward. Because that's what it is in here, him unsure, and Adachi rather
intimidating in his silence.
"Nah. I'm in the mood for sushi. Good sushi."
With a nod, Souji settles again. He'd wanted this, right? He'd wanted to see
Adachi, even knowing the dangers—that things might end up badly. But it still
stings a little for him to act so brusque, and it feels like he's just looking
over Souji completely, like he's not even here. It's nothing at all like the
attention Adachi had given him that night.
Still, it's better than nothing, isn't it? It's better than sitting at home
doing nothing, wondering if it's even worth it to act like everything is
alright in front of his friends the next day. At least Adachi is here with him
at all.
They pull up twenty minutes later in front of a traditional building in a part
of Okina Souji's never been to. He hesitates getting out, suddenly unsure, but
Adachi is by the passenger's side door quick enough, opening it up and giving
him an irritated look.
"Hey, c'mon. We don't have forever," he mutters, grabbing Souji and tugging at
him when he shows no signs of moving. His grip is surprisingly strong, but it
loosens as Souji gives in and climbs out of the car.
At this time of night, most of the patrons inside seem drunk, or like they're
getting there, some of them more rowdy than others. There's definitely no one
his age in here, but Souji follows the waitress haltingly to one of the
curtained-off booths and takes a seat on the closest side anyway. It surprises
him that Adachi follows suit and squeezes in next to him, ordering beer for
himself and water for Souji while smiling at the waitress. And then she's gone,
leaving them alone together.
He's nervous. With Adachi pressed up against him, all Souji can think about is
that night, the way Adachi had been so close to him then too. So close that
they were practically one.
"So, what should—" he starts, trying to keep himself from doing something
thoughtless, like kissing him or... or something.
"Hey, Souji-kun," Adachi interrupts, and his lips are close enough to Souji's
ear to make him shiver. "You must have missed me, huh?"
He does his best to remain calm, to sort through all of the words in his mind
and make sense of them, make them not sound desperate. "Of course, Adachi-san.
I've thought about you a lot lately." Was that alright?
Adachi laughs. "I've been thinking of you, too. How you were so tight and how
badly you wanted me to fuck you. It was pretty cute."
That kind of response makes Souji anxious. He's not sure if it's pleasant or
unpleasant, because he certainly doesn't remember it like that. Adachi had been
the one who wanted him—that was the whole point. Maybe if they were in private,
he'd know better how to react—but Souji is highly aware there are waitstaff
moving along the narrow walkway outside the curtain.
"I was thinking it'd be fun to do that again. But I guess you're after more,
huh?" Adachi says.
Souji nods. He knows they did things a little bit out of order, but this is
generally what people seek, isn't it? Because it isn't enough to be touched by
Adachi; he wants to be desired by him. His presence, his body, his thoughts—all
of it. Everything that Yosuke hadn't wanted.
"Geez... you know how much trouble that could get me in, right? If somebody
found out?"
Of all the things that had been on Souji's mind, that hadn't really been one of
them. He pauses now, considering as he tilts his head away—saying nothing,
because he doesn't know what he has worth saying. It's not like he wants Adachi
to get in trouble, but he wants this. He knows it's selfish.
"I mean, if you want me to risk it, you're going to have to stop hanging around
your friends so much too. It's gotta be a complete secret from everybody,"
Adachi says. Then he chuckles nervously. "Especially your uncle. He'd kill me
if he ever found out. Are you willing to do that, Souji-kun?"
Souji knows he shouldn't question this. Adachi is giving him an ultimatum, a
way they can be together, but the thought of just not hanging out with his
friends has him understandably worried. "If I keep it a secret from my uncle,
then why can't I still be with my friends?"
"They pry a lot, don't they? I mean, they'd get in our business and then tell
somebody. Plus, what's the point of dating if you're always hanging out with
them instead of me, huh?"
"I don't spend that much time with them..."
Adachi hardens up, turning away. "Do you really want to be with me? Because
it's me or them. This is the only way you'll get what you want, Souji-kun. I
don't have time to mess around."
Souji is backpedaling mentally, but physically he stays where he is, Adachi's
hand on his thigh and his whispers brushing against his skin. He loves his
friends... but he has to admit that it's been awkward with them lately, since
the whole Yosuke incident.
Still, that's not a good excuse to just not see them. They'd ask questions
regardless, especially if they noticed his absence, and anyway, what's the need
in keeping it a secret? If he and Yosuke had dated, it wouldn't have been a
secret... probably. But this is different. Adachi isn't his best friend, and
none of this is as simple as he'd assumed it would be with Yosuke. That whole
situation had turned out to be complicated anyway, so why should this one be
simple either?
"I... I'll say that I need to start studying harder then. Just a few times a
week," Souji says eventually. Even that feels like too much of a sacrifice, but
he wants this.
Adachi sighs, squeezing Souji's thigh before removing his hand completely. "I
guess I'll see if I can get off work earlier a couple times a week, then. If
that's all you can manage. But I don't want to see you with them all the time."
The waitress comes then, and Souji is thankful for having a reason not to
continue that conversation. She places down a glass of beer in front of Adachi
along with water and a few snack foods to tide them over, then takes their
orders and is on her way again. Adachi had gone for one of the larger
platters—really taking advantage of this being a treat... but with the money
Souji makes from his side jobs and in the TV, he supposes it's alright.
"You said my uncle was keeping you busy, Adachi-san... are you alright?" he
asks now that they're alone, the air still between them.
Adachi sips his beer, not turning to look at him. "Huh? Yeah! Just tired. I
want a break."
Souji contemplates for a moment, then carefully leans closer to him. "I could
bring you lunch sometimes, if you wanted to get away for a little while.
There's always lots of leftovers."
"You'd do that? Well aren't you just the regular old housewife," Adachi says—a
little bit mean in his teasing, but Souji manages a smile anyway.
"It's not a problem."
"Eh... nah. I like to eat noodles for lunch. It'd be weird to eat something
else."
Souji tries not to be hurt by that; it's a silly thing to feel upset over, but
he can't help but think of how Yosuke always used to be so happy about getting
invited to the roof to eat with him. Maybe Adachi is just unexpectedly strict
about certain things.
That seems the most likely explanation, so he lets it go. Instead, he picks a
wasabi pea out of the bowl and pops it in his mouth, chewing slowly before
taking a sip of his water.
This feels awkward. He has no idea what he's supposed to talk about with
Adachi. The only people they have in common are Dojima and Nanako, and the
only topic they have in common is the investigation, which Souji isn't supposed
to know about at all. He feels himself struggling—he, who's managed to push his
way through to some of the most stubborn people in town.
"Anyway, I noticed that Hanamura kid hasn't been skulking around after you
lately. Something happen?" Adachi asks after a couple minutes, so nonchalant
that he must actually be invested in the answer.
"Hm? No."
It's a lie, but Adachi doesn't call him on it. He just laughs, taking a long
sip of his beer before wiping his scowling mouth with his sleeve. "Man... he's
a brat anyway. You're better off without him. I don't like the way he looks at
you."
There's no way he's drunk already, but the way he's acting, Souji wants to
write it off to that effect. Why does he even know this much about them anyway?
The server soon reappears with a wide spread of sushi, and Adachi is so excited
(which, all things considered, Souji still finds cute) that he digs in
immediately, forgetting about the topic of Yosuke entirely.
"It looks good," Souji says, pleased.
"Yeah. Hey, thanks for this!" Adachi replies, his chopsticks nearly a blur as
he picks out all the best pieces.
Souji supposes he can put up with that, taking the next best ones and putting
them on his plate so that he doesn't have to keep picking them off the larger
tray. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do."
"For real... between the way you cook and how willing you are to pay for sushi,
I don't even care that you're not a cute girl!" he announces, a bit loudly for
Souji's comfort. He must definitely be drunk. And he keeps chewing with his
mouth open, crossing chopsticks with Souji as he reaches for another piece of
sushi—manners not at all up to snuff.
They're things he can tolerate though, because with the conversation away from
Yosuke, the mood feels lighter. And soon Adachi is talking about some TV show
he likes, informing Souji that they could watch it together later. Souji likes
the idea of that, excited to spend more time together.
"I could come over and cook for you sometimes," he offers—wanting to return the
gesture.
"Just don't get the wrong idea," Adachi says. He hasn't started to slur or
waver or anything, but from how loose his tongue is, Souji's fairly sure he'd
been correct in his original assumption. "You're not my wife or anything."
He doesn't know what he's supposed to stay that, so he remains silent for a few
minutes instead. Had he thought this would be idyllic? That nothing could go
wrong once he was with Adachi? Because he's starting to reassess that.
"I just think it'd be nice," he eventually says. "You said you eat cup noodles
a lot. That's pretty bad for you, Adachi-san."
Adachi scoffs, taking a piece of sushi off Souji's plate and dipping it into
his cup of soy sauce, too. "It's too early for you to nag, y'know?"
"It's not nagging. I'm just saying."
"Ehh? Sounds like nagging to me."
Souji's lips tighten, but he turns them into a smile somehow. "Maybe you need
to be nagged a little, then."
He barely manages to finish his sentence before Adachi is speaking. "Hey, what
did you tell Dojima-san?"
Confused, Souji stumbles a little in his train of thought. "What do you mean?"
"It's pretty late, and we're not in Inaba. Seeing as you've been gone a while,
he'll start to worry, won't he? I don't want him to find out you were with
me..."
The realization strikes that Souji hadn't actually told him anything. It's not
an uncommon occurrence for him to go out and stroll around at night, or go to
one of his jobs, but today isn't one of those days. Still, he hasn't gotten any
texts or phone calls, so maybe Dojima just assumed he was working. "I think
it'll be fine. I have a lot of nighttime jobs."
Adachi laughs under his breath, and for a moment Souji is confused yet
again—then he realizes the rather crude joke that one could take from that, and
brushes it off.
"Ahh... if it's fine, then you can come back home with me, right?" Adachi says,
leaning against Souji rather suggestively.
Souji nods quickly, his mind going a little blank at the thought of what could
come after this. With the table decimated—the tray of sushi completely cleared
of even a speck of rice, a pile of plates and emptied glasses of beer—they go
ahead and leave, Souji paying a heart-stoppingly large bill on the way out.
Then they're on the road again, the car ride a little more lively this time
since Adachi turns on the radio and sings badly along with a couple songs.
Souji's got his suspicions that he's not as sober as he'd claimed to be, but
Adachi had just brushed him off when he brought it up, so he tries to enjoy
this slightly unguarded moment.
Not long passes before they're pulling up in front of a newer apartment
complex, strangely modern for Inaba—and when Adachi gets out of the car, Souji
follows at his heels, not at all hesitant like he'd been earlier. Finally he's
going to be alone with Adachi, no one else around to interrupt them, no one
they have to hide from. It's what he's been waiting for, and as they get closer
to the door, he finds himself wondering anxiously what it's going to be like
inside, what things they might do (aside from what Adachi's earlier touches had
clearly intended).
It had been easy to imagine the kinds of things he and Yosuke would do if they
were to start dating—it'd just be an extension of what they'd done before,
Souji sitting on the bed in Yosuke's room with whatever new album he's dug up
playing in the background, kisses and conversation traded in equal amounts.
Video games, movies—both of them on in the background while they held hands in
the privacy of Yosuke's room, and later on, hanging out with their friends
and knowing that they were around people who supported them.
But he's not expecting things to go that easily with Adachi. This is
different—more adult, not the teenage fumbling he'd spent so much time thinking
about before this. And he doesn't know what he should prepare himself for as
he's guided into a room, the lights flickering on to reveal a kitchen, tidily
kept, almost untouched. There's no sign of any kind of food on the counters, no
magnets on the fridge—nothing. His eyes face the door in front of them again,
which Adachi leads him into as soon as he's taken off his shoes, revealing
another blank room with a bed, a TV, a table, and not much else.
It isn't cozy by any definition. It's clean and looks lived-in only in the way
that the duvet on the bed is a little bit ruffled. This feels nothing near the
comfortable den-like quality of Yosuke's room, and he knows it's a bad habit to
keep thinking about Yosuke when he's on the brink of something with Adachi. But
he can't seem to beat it out of his head. It's become too much of a habit.
Adachi nudges him toward toward the bed, and he goes with the smallest feeling
of hesitation inside. Because there's nowhere else to sit in the room, he's
sure it's normal to sit on the bed. But it feels strangely intimate already,
maybe a leftover from those afternoons spent in— No. He's really got to stop
thinking about this. So even though he's got his hesitations, he sits down on
the soft mattress, hands in his lap, legs pushed out in front of him with his
back held straight and stiff.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Adachi asks, taking a seat beside him. His hand goes to
rest on Souji's thigh again, his face hovering closer. He smells like beer;
sour and boozy.
Souji doesn't flinch away, but it's a near miss. "It's nothing. Did you want to
watch something, Adachi-san?"
Adachi contemplates him for another moment before leaning away to grab the
remote. He looks like some painting Souji might have seen in a museum once, on
one of the few occasions his parents brought him along on their trips—the slope
of his back delicate to the point of seeming untouchable, the bumps of his
spine visible in the strain against his shirt, a bead of sweat dripping from
his hairline down the back of his neck before dissolving into the white fabric.
Souji wants to touch, but he can't work up the courage to hold his hand out.
The TV turns on to some late night drama, and Adachi's attention shifts even
further from him. Nevermind that he'd been distant earlier in the evening; now
he barely seems to care that Souji is here, and that hurts a little bit. He'd
thought they would be spending time together. But as half an hour passes,
Adachi's attention stays fixed (though perhaps a little bored in appearance)
upon the TV.
"Adachi-san... let's do something else," Souji says, tired of waiting for him
to make a move.
"Hm?" He's barely speaking, and his gaze doesn't drift over, nor does he seem
at all interested.
"Adachi-san."
This time, he doesn't even bother to make a noise. Souji is tired of this. He's
spent too much of his time lately being ignored, and he's not going to accept
that—not when he's sure that Adachi is different, that he's not going to balk
at this the way Yosuke did. So he leans over and presses a kiss to his neck.
All at once his eyes snaps to Souji, intimidating in their focus—and Souji
holds his breath, waiting to see what he'll do. But his mouth just melts into a
grin, his hand that had stayed on Souji's thigh inching up a bit. "This was
what you wanted? You high schoolers are really insatiable..."
Souji holds still until Adachi leans over him, pressing him back into the bed,
and then he wraps his arms around his neck, pushing himself up a little so that
he can kiss him. It's just as awkward as the other night, neither of them
seeming all too used to this. But it should be enough for Souji, what with the
way Adachi's hands can't seem to get enough of running over him, pressing
against sensitive spots until he's gasping underneath him.
Not until later does he realize how Adachi's gaze had been shifting to him
imperceptibly the whole night, waiting for him to make the first move. Holding
out on him. Trying to make it so that he knows without a doubt that he was
always the one who needed it first.
===============================================================================
Since Adachi's suggestion that he make more time for them, Souji's been doing
his best to figure out how to distance himself only a little
bit—just enough—from his friends, not wanting to upset them, but wanting to
incur Adachi's irritation even less. This is new and unsteady, so he has to do
everything right.
And it's just as difficult as he'd been expecting. The excuse of having to
study resulted in a few self-invitations to study with him, and when he'd had
to turn down such offers, there had been sad looks, maybe the odd self-
deprecating remark. He's tried telling them some other time, but that's just
resulted in shrugs and, "yeah, maybe"s.
So it's hard. But he's managing. He hopes his friends don't think less of him
for it, because it's already tearing him up that he has to do this at all. It's
just that he's always heard relationships take concessions, right? He has to
concede something to have Adachi, and in the scheme of things, maybe seeing his
friends for a couple hours less every few days isn't that bad. It makes sense
anyway—he has to give someone less time so that he can make some for Adachi.
It's just going to take some getting used to, that's all.
The small breaks he gets with Adachi in the following weeks are often the same;
Souji goes to his apartment for a few hours, they order takeout and watch TV,
and then at the end Adachi will wait for him to seek his touch before giving it
over. Prior to that he tends to be closed off, usually quiet on the regular
days, or else dismissive on the worst days, and the conversations they do
manage are never long or particularly deep.
Still, it's nice to spend time in the privacy of the apartment with him. Souji
doesn't have to glance around before he leans in to give Adachi a kiss, or
worry that someone will get the wrong idea about them. Sometimes they just lay
in bed together, a rare moment with the TV off, their limbs tangled together,
touching every so often. Those are his favorite moments.
And despite it all, he's learning about Adachi. Little details that he wouldn't
have ever seen if it weren't for this closeness—things like how he always likes
a cold beer with dinner, and Souji doesn't begrudge him that. It's not like
he's an alcoholic or anything, it just mellows him... Usually. Sometimes he
gets restlessly angry instead, and in those cases Souji tends to quiet down
himself, but never does he allow himself to leave early.
He's learned about how happy Adachi gets if Souji makes him something homemade
for dinner even once a week—it gets him all affectionate for a little while, or
at least affectionate by Adachi's definition. To begin with, he's not much for
that sort of thing. Souji always feels like he has to push for something as
simple as cuddling or aimless making out, but he's pretty sure Adachi
doesn't hate it. He's just no good at admitting he enjoys the softer pastimes.
His favorite things he's learned are silly, small things, like how when Adachi
is almost out of clean laundry, he resorts to wearing heart-print boxers. Like
how he has little mascot-shaped mugs in the cabinets which he says are hand-me-
downs from his mother. Like how he hates taking baths alone, and always pulls
Souji in with him.
Once or twice since their late-night dinner, they've gone to Okina together.
Those tentative dates are kind of nice, but they'd gotten off to a bad start
the first time, Adachi in an irritable mood from work, and it had been cut
short when he stormed off. Souji had had to take the train back to Inaba
without him, disappointed and wondering if it was always going to be this hard.
But he's made up his mind to not be discouraged easily.
Things have tentatively settled. A few weeks has given them a rhythm to work
with, the exchange of texts more frequent than anything, dotted with hours they
have to spare together, and always within the privacy of Adachi's apartment or
the anonymity of Okina. This is a secret; Adachi has drilled that into his head
repeatedly, emphasizing just how much trouble they'd both be in if anyone found
out. And Souji figures he's okay with that. Keeping it a secret is better than
not having it at all.
The only thing he hates are the days where no matter how many calls or texts he
sends, he gets nothing in return. He's chalked it up to Adachi being busy at
work, because they are in the middle of a murder case, after all—but it doesn't
stop him from worrying, wondering if Adachi is already fed up with all the
boundaries they have to work within. And he has to wonder too if Adachi is
tiring of the way they have what feels like nothing in common. It's not like he
skimps on reminding Souji that he's just a kid, that he has so much more
experience than Souji, that there's miles and miles of life between them.
He's teasing, though. Souji's learned that that's a large part of who
Adachi is. He teases in the way of cowering, abashed innocence to Dojima and
Nanako's faces, and then a secret smile and a wink, a squeeze to the thigh and
the fleeting brush of fingertips over his crotch for Souji. In the way of
silence or a cool attitude from him, and then words that leave Souji blushing.
It's just what he does. He keeps Souji on his toes.
And Souji has gotten used to it. Nearly a month has passed of these quiet
meetings, not enough to make him feel completely comfortable, but
he's more comfortable than he was. He's doing alright keeping things a secret,
and his friends have stopped worrying so much about his disappearances.
He just shoulders their worries instead. All these situations might be new and
unsettling, but the attention feels good, and he's growing to like Adachi more
and more every day despite their differences and every barrier in their way. At
times he just feels a little bit bad. This doesn't seem like the kind of place
Adachi should be, and the way he talks about things hits too close to home at
times, but that just makes Souji all the more curious about him, all the more
anxious to spend time with him—like he could somehow cheer him up. And he's
usually pretty nice—not to mention he says the kinds of things that leave a
warmth in Souji's stomach. He feels wanted and like someone is interested in
him, for the most part.
It's not like it would have been with Yosuke, but that doesn't mean it's bad.
And yet neither does it mean he's happy. This is too rocky and uncertain for
him to be happy, between seeing his friends less and less and the worries of
the investigation, Adachi's sudden tempers and silences plus the overwhelming
amount of secrets that weigh constantly on Souji's mind. He'd never had cause
to keep secrets before this, and suddenly he has all too many of them. And on
top of all that, he still misses Yosuke, despite the fact that they've barely
spoken more than twenty words to each other in the past month.
It just figures that there'd be someone new on the Midnight Channel. He's
trying so hard to stabilize every other aspect of his life, and though he's
doing his best to be optimistic, there's always something new on his plate. Of
course it would be this.
Apart from the time the investigation itself takes, this means suddenly being
around his friends more, and around Adachi less, which he has a bad feeling
about from the start. How is he going to be able to explain this away? Adachi
had told him what he expected from him, and if he does this, Souji's got a
nagging suspicion that not only is he going to notice, he's also not going to
be pleased.
But he has to do it. He'd taken up the responsibility in the first place, and
he can't just drop it because his best friend is avoiding him (he hadn't
even called that night like he usually would have after Souji had turned off
the TV), because he feels distanced from his other friends, or because he's
dating someone. There's a person that needs their help, and he's determined to
follow through regardless of the circumstances.
So he waits until the next day, discusses it with everyone, takes current
rumors into account. There's an idol in town, apparently—Risette. He's never
been into those sorts of things, but Yosuke used to talk about her sometimes. A
pretty big fan, apparently.
Not that he seems particularly excited about this when they gather to check up
on her after school. In fact, he seems in another place entirely throughout the
walk to the tofu shop, and in the ensuing crowd of people outside, his
attention is caught only by Adachi.
Souji's too. He freezes up as Yosuke calls over, and Adachi's gaze turns toward
them, landing on Souji momentarily—accusingly. Souji just swallows hard and
forces a smile, trying to seem as innocent as possible.
"Hey! It's a ruckus over here, isn't it?" Adachi says, continuing to wave the
substantial amount of traffic (for Inaba, at least) through the shopping
district.
"Yeah? Enough that they decided to get a detective on the job?" asks Kanji.
"Wonder why."
"Well... Rise Kujikawa's here, right?" And then Adachi's put-upon expression
morphs into something pleased, dream-like. "Did you see her? Is she in there?"
"If you didn't catch it, I meant, what are you doing here?" Kanji says. His
voice is intimidating enough that Souji wants to get in the middle of this,
settle things down. "It's pretty weird. She's just an idol."
"Uh—it's just... staff shortage," says Adachi, and he's withering before their
eyes. It seems Kanji has gotten to him pretty effortlessly. "I gotta... I gotta
go now. I'll see you guys around!"
He practically runs away. But not before a strangely sharp look back at Souji,
making him feel oddly self-conscious, though he doubts anyone saw it. They're
likely all focused on the investigation, unlike him.
He knows he's gone and done it, and it weighs on his mind as they step into the
tofu shop and speak to Rise herself. It's a short conversation where she tries
to reassure them that she'll be fine, or at least keep an eye out, but it
doesn't take away from his unease, and as they leave and go their separate
ways, he feels dread begin to settle over him, as if waiting for some kind of
punishment.
Sure enough, Adachi calls that night. Souji almost thinks about not answering,
but he gives in, knowing it'll be better to settle this quickly.
"Adachi-san?"
"Heeey, Souji-kun. What are you up to tonight?" He sounds too cheery for Souji
to be anything but suspicious, and he keeps his eyes harshly squinted closed as
he answers.
"I was just doing homework."
"Really? Huh." Even as reticent with words as he can sometimes be, this just
takes it to a whole new level. And the longer he goes without bringing up the
fact that Souji was with his friends, the more anxious he becomes.
"Ah... what are you doing?"
"Having a drink."
"Oh..."
There's silence. Adachi's not saying anything, and Souji doesn't know what he
can say himself. He keeps opening his mouth, wanting to speak, but nothing
comes out. And he was hoping—he's not sure why—but he was hoping that Adachi
would somehow reassure him that he hadn't done anything wrong. Instead, he
treats this a lot like Souji's parents treat him when they're disappointed in
him—tiptoeing around, refusing to say anything about it, forcing him to admit
that he's guilty, forcing him to punish himself.
He pinches at the fabric of his lounge pants. "I picked up some tofu for dinner
today. I was thinking I could bring you leftovers."
"Not tonight. I'm tired."
"Oh. Okay," Souji says, his voice quieting. He just wants to make this right.
"Yeah. Actually, I think I'm gonna head to bed now."
"Okay," Souji repeats. "Goodnight, Adachi-san."
Adachi says nothing, just hangs up—and Souji sits in his bed for a long time
until the pounding of the rain overhead signals to him that he should hurry up
and turn on the TV.
There's a clearer picture this time; it's becoming obvious that
it's definitely going to be Rise this time, and when the Investigation Team
gathers at the food court the next day, he's quick to say it.
"It's got to be Risette—" he says, and Yosuke's voice overlaps his as he comes
to the same conclusion. But rather than them smiling at each other in agreement
like they used to, Yosuke just frowns and turns away, going irritably silent.
Souji doesn't know how much longer he can take this. Yosuke's silences and hard
looks are wearing on him, driving him into the ground slowly, because no matter
what Souji does, it's apparently not enough to get back in Yosuke's good
graces. And he just wants things to be normal again. He wants them to be
friends and to work through this, but he can't bring that up right now. It's
something for them to discuss in private, not in front of their friends. Isn't
it bad enough that they already seem sure something's up?
Eventually, they end up at the shopping district again, in Shiroku preparing
for their stakeout, and it's almost expected when Adachi walks in. Why would
Souji's luck turn around? Why would he stop ending up in situations that make
him feel guilty without anyone even saying anything about it, as if he's
somehow so messed up that even his conscience wants to punish him?
Again Adachi gives him that look as they speak, and again it sits exhaustingly
on his mind, not even the sudden appearance of Risette's stalker and her
apparent disappearance managing to ward it away completely. He barely remembers
to watch the Midnight Channel that night, and he nearly jumps out of his skin
when his phone starts ringing.
It's Adachi. Is he finally going to yell at Souji? Is he going to brush it off?
Because when they'd come to that agreement, he'd seemed so adamant about Souji
making these sacrifices—is he really going to let him off the hook that easily?
He answers, steadying his voice. "Hello?"
"Souji-kun... what's up?" Right to business, apparently.
"I was just getting in bed."
"Really? Not up to anything with your friends?" Adachi asks sharply. And there
it is.
"No."
"Hm... so why have you been with them so much lately? I told you I didn't want
to see you with them. Don't you want me to know you like me best?"
Souji doesn't want Adachi to be angry at him. But he doesn't think what he did
was bad, either, and he's not just going to cower and beg for forgiveness. "You
said to see them less. Not push them away completely."
Adachi scoffs. "You'd really better not be up to something, Souji-kun—you'll
regret lying to me if you are. And tell Hanamura-kun if he wants to question an
officer again like he did yesterday, he can spend his afternoon in lockup
instead of chasing after girls he jerks off to."
Souji bites his lip, rubbing his forehead. "Okay."
"Really... I thought I made it clear to you. You can't go hanging around with
your friends all the time, it doesn't work like that."
"But—"
"I don't care what you have to say, Souji-kun. I told you how this shit between
us could work, and that's the only way it can work. So do you want to be with
me, or not?"
"I do," Souji says, eyebrows furrowed. He doesn't see why this has to be some
big thing, why they can't talk about something more pleasant. Abruptly, he
decides to change the topic, even knowing that they likely weren't finished
with the previous one. "Did you have a good day at work, Adachi-san?"
He laughs sarcastically, apparently not at all in the mood to let this go.
"Oh, yeah. It was great. I got to stand outside in the heat and deal with
dumbasses trying to park in the middle of the road again! And then I got to see
you hanging out and smiling and laughing with your stupid friends! My picture
of a perfect day!"
It's clear that he's made up his mind to be angry, but Souji's not going to let
it fly. In the face of Adachi's frustration, he can't just back down time and
time again. "Should I come over and cheer you up?" he asks.
"Depends." Adachi's tone has settled a little, at least—seemingly interested.
"I could make dinner for you..."
"And?" He sounds like he's warming up to this, but Souji can't be sure.
"Whatever you like. I'll do it."
Adachi sighs. "You're really bad at this. Whatever. Come over."
Souji does, and he ends up staying until late in the night even though Adachi
barely pays attention to him. He feels like he's being punished. At the end of
it, well past three in the morning, he walks home by himself—and he's exhausted
and sore the next day. It's hard, really—getting harder to balance all these
things in his life, knowing they're all important and that he can't give each
of them the time and attention they really deserve.
Throughout the process of investigating Rise, he's tired and continually afraid
that Adachi is going to call, asking where he is. It's a strange
feeling—paranoia, and the knowledge that logically, he's not doing anything
wrong. But Adachi had asked this of him, and even if it seemed a little bit
unreasonable, this is what good significant others do, isn't it? They listen,
and when their partner is bothered by something, they try to compromise.
So yes, he'd known that he would have to make sacrifices... but he hadn't
considered how dating Adachi might get in the way of the investigation, and
vice versa. It's a problem. Between trying to rescue Rise and making sure to
spend his evenings with Adachi as if to prove that he's been keeping his
promise, he's soon exhausted enough that, when they go into the TV one
afternoon, he practically collapses. One second he's warding off a shadow, and
the next, he's on the floor, eyes blurry and chest tight.
Yosuke's hovering above him, worried—and for a second, Souji feels the weight
of everything he's managed to mess up laying heavily on him, every ounce of
regret. Then Kanji grabs his hand and pulls him to sit up, crouching beside
him.
"What's up, senpai? Should we stop for today?" he asks, hesitating between
touching Souji's forehead and remaining where he is.
"You look really pale... what's going on lately?" says Chie, glancing from
Souji to Yosuke. He wonders if she knows, or if they're just that obvious.
"Sorry. I'm fine," he says, trying to sit up slowly, but he feels dizzy and
like his head is full of rocks.
"Wait. You shouldn't get up until you're feeling better," Yosuke pipes up. He
sounds so reluctant, and it pangs inside of Souji as he turns his head down,
looking away. It must be so taxing for Yosuke to pretend he cares about him.
"Just give me a few minutes, then. We'll get back to it."
They argue with him until he finally overrules them, telling them that rescuing
Rise is more important than him being tired, and even then he's sure they don't
believe him. But they must be sick of arguing, because Kanji helps him up and
they continue on their way.
In the end, they manage to save her without anything averse happening to him.
But he's so tired, and Adachi has been pretty quiet with him lately, and he
feels like he has so many things to worry about—his friends and the fact that
they clearly know something is up with him now; Yosuke and the fact that he's
still avoiding Souji; Adachi and his increasing suspicions; school, work, the
investigation, all his other friends—it piles on and on.
But at least they have Rise safe and sound. And for the foreseeable future, he
can take a break.
Or so he thinks. That night, Adachi brings Dojima (drunk and stumbling) home,
and this time Souji's not so lucky to make it up with croquettes and a blowjob.
Adachi corners him when he goes upstairs to use the bathroom, intimidating
despite the fact that he's a couple inches shorter than him.
"I tried calling you today," he starts, and Souji's desperately trying to come
up with excuses—not that he really gets a chance to say them. "You wouldn't
answer, so I started looking around."
"I—" He feels woozy; for a second he wonders if he might collapse again.
"Hey, I told you, right? If you want to be with me, you can't be with your
friends every single day. And you told me you understood! Or have you decided
you'd rather be with them?"
"That's not it—" His breath is shortening. He's not getting anywhere near
enough air.
"Because if you're not willing to make this work, then I'd rather not waste my
time on you!"
"Adachi-san... I'm sorry. I had to take care of some things," Souji manages to
get out, arms trembling and legs weak.
Adachi's eyes narrow as they meet his. "What things?"
"I had my tutoring job today," he lies. He's trying to calm his breathing, but
he doesn't think it's working.
Adachi sizes him up, a short, unamused laugh coming from him. "Really? Because
I heard you were snooping around with your friends again."
Shit. His eyesight is getting all fuzzy— "No, I... I saw them for a little
while. But then I went to work."
He doesn't know if that excuse is going to be acceptable, but Dojima slurs
Adachi's name from downstairs, and he steps away quickly, but not without
slinging another harsh glare at Souji first.
"Whatever," he mutters lowly. "I swear, if you keep lying to me—"
"I'm not. I promise," Souji says. He waits for Adachi to walk all the way
downstairs, and then he collapses back against the wall, sucking in great
breaths so quickly that tears come to his eyes. He can't keep doing this. He
can't keep sneaking around and keeping secrets; he has to get serious about
this, really commit, because this has to be made right, if only so that he can
stop stressing so much.
===============================================================================
It's easier said than done. Back at school, things are even more uneasy than
they were before, because Souji knows that his friends know something is off.
He guesses fixing one part of his life just throws another off balance at this
point, and he's doing his best to keep his head down and avoid everyone under
the continued guise of 'studying,' but he can tell no one really buys it.
It's tense, not hostile—but he almost wishes it was, just so that he could have
an excuse to not want to be around them. Instead, they seem disappointed every
time he turns away, and he feels increasingly guilty—as if he's choosing
between them and Adachi, and truthfully, that's what it seems like, even to
him.
But the tension finally breaks on a Thursday, rain pouring so hard outside that
Souji's dreading having to walk back home. He'd texted Adachi earlier and asked
if he would pick him up, though he feels a little like he's overstepped his
bounds. Are they even comfortable enough with each other to warrant this? Is
Adachi possibly still mad at him, even though a couple weeks have passed of
Souji desperately trying to make this right? He guesses it's done and dusted
now, no matter how he worries about it.
Needless to say, he's been keeping to himself a little more lately. All his
interactions with his friends feel strange and foreign, like he's overly
conscious of how he talks to them—like he's watching himself on TV and
analyzing every tiny move, no longer simple and easy the way it used to be.
And Yosuke? If it's possible, he's gotten even better at ignoring Souji's
presence.
It's a surprise then, as the school day is drawing to a close and a folded
piece of paper sails through the air in the classroom, then lands on Souji's
desk. He picks it up, unfolds it in his lap.
Yosuke's sloppy penmanship presents itself, characters cramped on the page, and
he can't help the way his heart skips a beat to see it. Even knowing that
Yosuke must hate him by now, even knowing that he's with Adachi, he can't
squash these feelings completely.
'Meet me after class y/n?'
Souji circles the y carefully, then refolds the paper and guides it back toward
Yosuke. He doesn't check to see if he reads it right away, too nervous and a
little bit angry at himself for caring this much after everything that's
happened lately.
It's hard to focus after that; he can't help wondering what it is that Yosuke
wants, and why he's choosing now of all times to bring it up. He'd made it
pretty clear that things between them weren't really good anymore, and Souji
had been trying to respect that, because when it comes down to it,
Yosuke is still his best friend. Things are just... wrong right now. He's got
hope that they'll get better soon, assuming everyone isn't driven away by how
little time he's able to spend with them.
Almost as soon as the final bell rings, Yosuke is at his desk, waiting
impatiently for him to pack up. He doesn't greet him or anything; the silence
feels ominous enough that Souji's optimism dims a bit, but all the same, he
hurries.
Soon they're walking together, heading toward the hall. It's easy to notice
that their rhythm doesn't really match up like it used to; Yosuke's dragging
his feet and Souji's hurried, anxious to have all of this figured out. He feels
frustrated already.
"So, uh... you've been gone a lot lately," Yosuke starts. He sounds mildly
accusatory, and that just shuts Souji down a little further.
"Have I?" he replies neutrally. He doesn't want to start a fight. He
doesn't want to be mad, but it's difficult when Yosuke has been avoiding him,
when he hasn't shown a single sign of being interested in working this out for
over a month—and now he has the gall to blame it all on Souji, as if
it's his fault? Souji had been trying so hard to pretend like none of it had
happened—like they could just chalk it up to a mistake and forget about it, and
move back to being best friends. But Yosuke can't let it go, and he thinks this
is Souji's fault.
"You don't have to stop seeing them because of me." Now Yosuke is sounding a
little bitter, and... is this what it's like when parents divorce? They have to
figure out custody?
"I'm not seeing them less because of you. I've got other stuff going on."
"Like what?"
Like this is any of Yosuke's business. He's wondering if he was right
before—are they best friends anymore? Are they even friends? Because Yosuke
hasn't been acting like it.
"Studying. I want to get into a good school."
Yosuke scoffs, murmurs something under his breath. They're near the stairs now,
lingering by them with people all around, and Souji doesn't want to hurt
Yosuke, but he's so angry right now; it's all come bubbling to the surface and
it's impossible to let go of. This is why he's been trying not to think of
it—because he'll either be sad or angry, and neither of them are desirable
emotions when he's actually trying to hang on to the friendships he makes here.
They're not disposable like the ones before.
"Why do you even care?" he asks, the words coming fast and powerful like the
strike of a snake. "You've been avoiding me ever since that night, and now you
care what I'm up to? Why does it matter?"
They both sound so bitter right now. It's so teenaged, so high school drama.
And Yosuke opens his mouth, then closes it again.
"Man... forget it. I should have known you were going to act stuck-up about
this."
"What?" Souji demands, knowing his voice is getting louder. He feels out of
control like he never has before—he's supposed to be calm, he's supposed to be
unflappable, he's supposed to be the voice of reason. And right now, he's being
none of those things.
"I knew this was a stupid idea! Just get out of my face," Yosuke seethes,
storming off down the stairs before Souji can get another word in.
He's so frustrated he can't even move. This is another thing he doesn't
understand—he's never gotten close enough to anyone to be genuinely angry with
them, and maybe that's a sign of how deeply he cares, but all that doesn't
mean shit right now. He's pissed, and only when Kou calls over to ask if he's
alright does he bother to move.
He's down the stairs like a shot, only he runs straight into someone's back.
Yosuke's, as it turns out. He gets a faceful of dyed hair, and then Yosuke
whips around and glares at him—but Souji's gaze shifts in that moment. Because
standing by the lockers is Adachi, chatting with one of the third year girls.
He looks pretty interested too, his eyes a tantalized, fluid slide from her
face downward, and then back up. Souji's lips part incrementally, a bolt of
jealousy sizzling white-hot through his stomach.
Before he even manages to get an angry word out, Yosuke seems to realize
something is off, his eyes shifting to look where Souji's gaze is focused. They
remain that way for a moment, then flick back to Souji, looking almost worried,
his mouth hanging open.
"Partner," he breathes, and that word slices Souji's anger right in two.
"What—"
Souji doesn't wait for him to ask. It'd be too hard to explain, and anyway, he
feels too hollowed out inside to even speak at the moment. He steps out of
Yosuke's path and moves forward, forcing himself to calm down, knowing it's
surely not what it looks like.
"Adachi-san, what are you doing here?" he asks pleasantly as he stops beside
him, hoping his voice sounds normal, though it's awkward to his own ears.
Adachi turns toward him, and his smile seems so incredibly fake. Not that
Souji's got a good feel for it; Adachi rarely smiles around him to begin with.
But it's never like this. "Oh, hey! Dojima-san asked me to bring you over to
the station... said he had something he needed to talk to you about. Seemed
pretty urgent!"
"Oh... so, we'd better get going, right?" Souji knows he must sound desperate
right now. He just needs to be out of here before Yosuke catches on too much,
before he starts to break down again. How did he lose control so fast?
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, let's go!"
Souji leads the way. He's jittery and anxious, feeling like his world has been
dealt too many big blows in quick succession. Before he knows it he's sitting
in the passenger seat of Adachi's car, his bag in the footwell and his fingers
twisting in his lap.
Beside him, Adachi gets in. The door snaps closed, but the car doesn't start up
just yet.
"Adachi-san, were you—"
"Didn't I tell you to stay away from that Hanamura kid? I told you. I don't
trust him. I've told you so many times lately! Stay away from your friends,
and especially stay away from Hanamura! But you don't listen!" Adachi
looks furious, his mouth and nose a snarl, not at all the false cheerfulness
he'd affected earlier. "I thought you wanted to be mine. I thought
you knew what that meant."
"Well, what about you?" Souji asks on a surge of irritation and jealousy left
over from Yosuke, likely built-up inside of him as a reaction to how rapidly
he's losing his grip as well, and how tenuous it had been to begin with. To
think that Adachi would give to someone else what he gives to Souji—that
disturbs him, claws at him inside and makes him afraid. "That girl you were
talking to? You didn't seem so bothered about me when you were with her."
Adachi looks surprised that he'd bothered to speak up. Then a sneer comes over
his face and he leans close, wrapping his fist in Souji's uniform shirt. He can
hear the fabric strain, an odd squeaking noise. "You're getting too many ideas.
Why are you so jealous? I wasn't doing anything."
Souji's fingers clench against his legs in frustration, trying to lean back,
but Adachi hasn't let go of him just yet. He's sick of dealing with this. He
doesn't want to be angry or scared or hurt anymore. He just wants to go home
and sleep for a little while, and let this day be over with. "Fine."
"Fine? Don't get all snippy with me because you're in a bad mood. What,
your boyfriend break up with you or something?"
Souji balks at that, feeling like he's somehow been caught. "He's not my
boyfriend! I'm with you. I've been trying so hard to fix things so that I can
be with you."
"So then say it," Adachi breathes, leaning close enough that Souji can
practically taste the coffee on his breath. "Say that you're mine."
"I'm yours," he says, his own breath picking up in speed. This is too much, he
can't take this, he doesn't want to fight—
"Yeah? So then why do you need to be around him? You're not satisfied with me?
All I've done is try and be good to you. I take off work when I shouldn't so
that I can pick you up just because you asked. I take you to Okina for dates
even though they're boring! I could be going out with cute girls, y'know? But
I'm giving you a chance, and you keep throwing it back in my face!"
"I'm not trying to," Souji says, choking up a little, dangerously close to the
breaking point. "I want to be with you. I'm just... really confused."
"About what, huh? This is what you wanted, so why do you keep acting like it
isn't?"
Souji is speechless as he shrugs his shoulders. Why can't things just be normal
and good? Why couldn't he just get in the car and kiss Adachi hello, something
gentle and sweet? Why couldn't they go back to his apartment and watch movies
and order takeout and fall asleep together? Why is it that things don't ever
just turn out right?
"I'm sorry," he says, wanting to lighten the mood. Adachi snorts, then turns on
the car, and he's not sure if that means he's forgiven. But he guesses it's a
start.
They pull away from the school, not headed in the direction of Adachi's
apartment. When the car comes to a stop in front of the Dojima residence, Souji
knows he shouldn't feel surprised, but he's still disappointed.
"Maybe I'll see you later," Adachi says. Probably not is what Souji hears.
He gets out of the car, his bag held in a white-knuckled grip as he starts to
close the car door. "I'm sorry," he whispers again, pitifully.
"Yeah, well. You can think on it for a little while. Just make sure you've got
your mind made up the next time you see me," Adachi says disinterestedly.
He pulls away as soon as the car door shuts, and Souji watches him go with the
sore ache of tears behind his eyes.
===============================================================================
Souji's still existing in some kind of haze when Yosuke texts him that night.
He's felt blank all afternoon, had smiled fakely when Nanako asked him if he
was alright, did his homework quickly only for something to do, but since then
he's been listless. There's nothing on TV that can take his mind off this. No
games or books. He'd tried going to sleep but he wasn't tired enough to get
anywhere.
And when his phone chimes with the text tone, he's desperately hoping that it's
Adachi. He needs to be forgiven, he needs to know that things are alright. But
it's not him. He should have known better.
'what was that 2day?' the text reads.
Souji lets it sit there for several minutes before he finally gives in and
answers. 'What do you mean?'
Yosuke's response is instantaneous. 'why were u looking at him like that? it
was like u saw a ghost!'
How is he supposed to answer this? He could brush Yosuke off, and he really
wants to do that, but he also knows he's going to pester him until he gets an
answer he likes. 'It was nothing. I was just worried. You know what happened
last time my uncle suddenly had an interest out of nowhere.'
There's silence for a little while. Souji thinks his answer has been accepted
without problem, but then his phone chimes with two messages and he snatches it
up.
'ur just acting weird lately' and then 'like it feels like we havent seen u at
all. everyone is worried.'
'I told you. It's just studying.' Souji pushes out a harsh breath, holding his
head. It's been pounding the entire evening.
'whatever u say man. tell me when u feel liek u dont want to lie anymore.'
Souji slams his phone down, gripping his hair and stifling a sob of
frustration. What happened to the hold he had on things? It feels like
everything is going the exact opposite of his way, all of it slipping through
his fingers—but then maybe it's been like that since day one. He hadn't wanted
to get close to any of them. He'd wanted to coast through this year and go back
home and then in a few months maybe his parents would send him somewhere
else—except none of this has gone according to plan.
But he'd thought, maybe, he'd had some semblance of a grip on things. And now
he's laying on his couch trying to calm himself down, breaths coming short and
fast, feeling miserable because forget not being able to make connections—now
he's made them and they're all messed up.
He just wants Adachi. He wants to go to sleep beside him, he wants to wake up
with him, he wants to feel wanted and desired and Adachi makes him feel like
that... most of the time. But it's better than nothing.
Before he can really think it through, he's getting dressed. He knows Dojima
and Nanako went to bed a little while ago, and he's silent as he creeps down
the stairs and out the front door into the warm night air, walking with purpose
in his step. He's got to fix things. He can't sit in his bedroom
hyperventilating until he falls into a panic attack tonight.
It takes close to an hour before he's standing outside Adachi's apartment, and
belatedly, he hopes he's still awake. Will he even want to see Souji? With a
final plea toward some semblance of calm, he lifts his hand and knocks at the
door, holding his breath.
There's silence inside. Then a distant groan and a scuffle moving unsteadily
closer, the locks sliding back and the door being thrown open to reveal Adachi
in his boxers, hair mussed and sticking up all over the place. It's kind of
cute, but Souji probably shouldn't be focused on that fact right now.
"What are you doing here?" Adachi asks.
So, no happy welcome like Souji had hoped. But he draws in a breath and speaks,
even though his voice trembles a little. "I wanted to apologize. I can't leave
it like it was earlier."
"Ehh? It bothers you that much? Fine. Say what you wanna say," Adachi sighs,
rubbing his face tiredly and leaning against the doorjamb. It's dark behind
him, and Souji knows at this time of night, his bed would be cozy and
comfortable. He's learned that his first impression of the apartment—that it
was cold and unlived in—was wrong. Enough nights have been spent curled in the
darkness against Adachi that he's changed his mind. And now he wishes he could
just go inside, that they could leave all this for later...
"I don't understand what happened today, but I don't want you to think that I
don't want to be with you. Because I do," he says, doing his best to convey his
regret and his need.
Adachi grumbles again. He looks so irritated right now, and it breaks Souji's
heart a little. He doesn't want to be written off. He wants to hurry up and
sort this out, because he can't deal with having to spend the night worrying if
this is going to be the end of them.
"Then why do you keep running off to see him? Why were you with him today?"
"Because... he was mad at me, or something. Because I haven't been hanging out
with everybody," Souji says.
"Well I didn't force you to do it. You decided to do it yourself, so you can
stop sounding like you think it's my fault," Adachi says. He's perhaps a little
loud for the still night air, and Souji glances around, hoping no one has
heard.
"I'm not blaming you." He fidgets nervously, his eyes pleading upon
Adachi—willing enough for the moment to ignore the fact that he
basically had forced Souji to stop seeing his friends, as long as it means
things'll be normal again.
But Adachi just laughs in return, and it sounds forlorn, a little broken before
he covers it all up again. "Do you not want to see me anymore? Do you want to
break up? Because we can do that; it wouldn't bother me a bit."
"That's not what I want," Souji says. This is going downhill even when he tries
to say the right things, and he's feeling that terrifying lack of control
again, the tremble in his limbs that onsets panic. "I'm... I didn't know he was
going to want to see me. I didn't know you were going to come pick me up."
Adachi sneers. "Oh, so it would have been fine if I hadn't been there, right?
Because I wouldn't have seen you up to no good?"
This is going in circles. Souji doesn't know what to say, because no matter
what he chooses, he thinks Adachi is still going to fight him on it, and he
really just wants to end it already. He should take the blame. He should admit
this is his fault. With a deep breath, he pushes his hands against his face,
rubbing his eye sockets until he sees starbursts and pulsing technicolor waves
behind his eyes.
"What do you want me to do, Adachi-san?" he asks softly. "What am I supposed to
do to make it right?"
"Hm... it really bothers you that much?"
"Yes."
"Alright. Get in, then," says Adachi, pushing the door wider, and Souji
practically collapses inside with relief, his breaths coming easier now.
It doesn't surprise him when he's led into the bedroom, the darkness enfolding
him closely, welcoming him and easing him. He knows how this is going to go.
He's gotten used to the way Adachi delights in touching him so much more than
in talking to him—but it's more than Yosuke wants from him right now, so he
supposes it's fine.
Adachi gets into bed, leaves Souji behind to strip down on his own. He takes
his time, the streetlights from outside bathing the room in a dim glow as he
pulls off the long-sleeved shirt he'd been wearing around the house. His lounge
pants go next, but he keeps his boxer briefs on, then moves to slip under the
covers next to Adachi.
But he isn't allowed to. Adachi sits on the edge of the bed, pushes down on the
warm skin of Souji's shoulder until he's kneeling between his legs, then guides
him forward with a hand on the back of his neck.
Souji inhales, then parts his lips for Adachi's cock to push inside. He's not
really hard yet, but it doesn't take long for the wet heat of Souji's mouth to
start changing that—lapping at him until his hand grips Souji's hair a little
tighter, then sucking carefully, bobbing his head down slowly so as not to take
more than he can manage.
There's the click of a camera shutter and the sudden harsh blink of a flash,
and he looks up suspiciously to find Adachi with his phone in hand, grinning.
"Hey, don't get all grumpy and stop... I just need something to look at next
time you're not around. It's been pretty hard for me lately, y'know!" Adachi
says, cutting off into a groan as Souji sucks harder in dissatisfaction.
This isn't going to make things feel right, he knows. The only thing that would
is an actual discussion, but Adachi seems pretty set in his stance, and Souji's
tired of the arguing. So he bows his head and keeps sucking, blanking his mind
from the turmoil until Adachi suddenly grunts and comes in his mouth without
warning.
In the aftermath, Souji goes into the kitchen and gets himself a glass of
water, swallowing it slowly as he stands by the window. There's silence in the
bedroom; Adachi's probably content to just go on to bed now, and Souji guesses
he's alright with that. Maybe their silence is better anyway. All the talking
makes things complicated. Everything makes this complicated, but Souji's too
stubborn to believe it's not worth it.
He drains his glass and places it in the sink. But he hesitates before going
back into the bedroom, pausing by the door and counting his breaths, hoping
it'll calm his nerves.
For some reason, it hits him all at once how deep he's gotten into something
he'd never intended for this year. He hadn't wanted friends, much less to fall
for one of his best ones, and subsequently most likely ruin that friendship.
And he hadn't meant to go for an older guy—his uncle's coworker—either. But
here he is.
Maybe it's not what he'd shot for, but he hasn't felt like this possibly ever.
When's the last time it felt like he wasn't just existing, hoping that someone
would notice him and realize how alone he is? Or the last time someone wanted
to be with him for the night? At least Adachi is warm and there. At least his
presence is recognized. This is what makes the fighting and the sadness worth
it.
He moves back into the bedroom, sinking into bed beside Adachi. It feels like
he's asleep—there's silence, and he's not moving or anything.
But then he speaks. "Maybe I should send that picture to Hanamura. I wonder
what he'd think about his best friend on his knees in his spare time."
Souji seizes up sharply. "Wh—that's not funny, Adachi-san."
"You don't think so? I think it'd be hilarious. But I'd wanna see his face when
he opens it, just so I could see how creeped out he was."
His heart is pounding. He doesn't know why Adachi has to go and say these
things, or why it's funny to him. "I don't want that," he says, his voice firm
despite its quiet volume.
Adachi grunts, turning away from him. "You're no fun, Souji-kun. Has anyone
ever told you that? Geez... it was just a joke."
Souji doesn't say anything in reply. He figures he doesn't have to, and time
passes slowly as he waits to fall asleep that night.
===============================================================================
He means to wake up after a couple hours and go back home—sneak in before
anyone realizes he's missing as he usually would. But instead he wakes up to
Adachi coming out of the shower, dripping wet, and the break of sunrise through
the window.
He sits up in a hurry, so quick it makes him dizzy. Everything still feels out
of sorts, though he'd been hoping sleep would clear his mood up. Rubbing his
eyes, he shifts to move out of the bed, only Adachi comes to stand in front of
him, blocking his way.
"Hey, give me your phone, Souji-kun."
Souji makes a tired questioning sound, fingertips groping around on the bedside
table for his phone, which he hands to Adachi. To be fair, he's not thinking it
through. What could Adachi really do, anyway?
He's pressing buttons as Souji tries to wake himself up. Normally he'd do
better, but he's only slept over the entire night a couple times, and he's not
particularly accustomed to the way it feels to awaken in Adachi's bed. A couple
seconds pass, and then the phone is dropped back in his lap, making him
startle. Adachi just laughs and turns away again in search of clothes.
"Now you won't have to bother with Hanamura-kun, right?" he says idly.
At first, Souji doesn't register it, but when his brain catches up with
Adachi's words, he starts to feel shaky. He searches through his phone, but all
the conversations he's had with Yosuke are gone, and his phone number too.
It should be the moment he breaks. It should be the moment he yells at Adachi
and tells him he's gone too far, that this isn't right, he hadn't been
doing anything with Yosuke, and he'd been doing everything else Adachi had
asked of him—but he's always been too forgiving. And he doesn't want to start
something, even though this is becoming less and less the good thing he'd hoped
it was. All they do is fight lately, and they can't even talk to each other and
fix it.
But what he says instead is, "I guess that makes it easier." Everything is
spiraling even further out of control. None of this is right. Part of him
doesn't want this anymore.
But most of him does. Most of him is clinging to the idea of making this work,
of being wanted, of tethering himself to someone with something real this time.
Besides, a few fights don't mean this can't work.
He sits there silently as Adachi gets dressed. It's strange, but it's
comforting to watch him going through the motions, because while one part of
him is wildly out of its element right now, at least the fact that Adachi's
continuing on as usual instead of telling him to get out is a good sign.
Once he's put his jacket on, he comes over and kisses Souji, holding his face
in one hand as he parts his lips and pushes his tongue inside. Souji thinks
about shying away, but this is the most affection he's really gotten from him
since everything started going downhill, and it feels like some form of
reassurance.
"Hey, don't look so upset. This is how it has to be; you've gotta make
sacrifices. You don't get it now because you're just a kid, but you will,"
Adachi says, pushing Souji's bangs back from his forehead in a move that might
be intended to annoy. Instead, Souji just stares up at him, trying to force
himself into a smile.
"Okay, Adachi-san."
Adachi's eyebrows raise, surprised, but he shakes his head and leaves the room,
grabbing his jacket on the way. The front door soon opens and shuts without him
saying goodbye, which turns the tentatively optimistic mood Souji had alighted
upon into something... less.
But there's a kind of thrill to being left alone in the vacant apartment.
Souji's primary order of business after Adachi leaves is to examine the
cupboards for anything to eat; he'd intended on making breakfast for Adachi,
but he's finding he wouldn't have had much to work with anyway, seeing as
there's nothing but cup noodles and a few eggs—definitely not enough to cook
with.
He wants to stay here, for some reason. Everything has been so confusing lately
that it might feel good to just wrap himself in Adachi's sheets and stay in his
bed—but he can't justify it, and his stomach is rumbling, and he knows that he
should probably go to school. It's a struggle to pull his clothes on and leave,
locking the door behind himself; it tugs a physical ache to the surface of his
body, like the very first day of school he'd ever had, and maybe each
subsequent new school after that—left somewhere unfamiliar and pained by his
own confusion.
When he gets home, Dojima and Nanako are both gone—no note either, which makes
him worry about what Dojima will say in the evening. And he's probably going to
make himself late for school, but he goes upstairs and takes a shower, washing
away the mild scent of laundry detergent that had clung to him from Adachi's
sheets.
He gets dressed quickly and leaves the house, stopping by Junes to buy a cheap
bento for lunch and a couple of onigiri to hold him over until then. They're
consumed slowly, the chill morning air breezing by him on his walk, making him
realize just how different this place is from Tokyo. Birds chirp and rustle in
the trees overhead, and at this hour, there's no one on the streets. It's
deserted.
Neither is there anyone waiting for him to walk with them. He thinks his
friends have given up on him; at this point, it probably doesn't matter what he
says to them, but that thought just makes him feel blank and empty instead of
sad. By now, he should expect it. People leave him—that's just how it's always
gone. Why should the fact that they've gotten so close, that they've been
trying to figure out a murder together, make much of a difference?
At school that day, he can feel eyes on him. And he feels haggard, like anyone
looking at him could see how tired and broken down he is. It's only Adachi
that's keeping him from withdrawing completely. If it weren't for him, Souji
could make himself be alone. He could get used to this again. He could throw
out all his grand notions of having unbreakable bonds.
The recklessness is building inside him, like it always has before. When
everything gets too confusing and he feels too displaced, there's
always something he can count on: the storm inside of him that whirls
endlessly, sucking down anything that isn't easily explained or pushed away. A
defense mechanism, maybe.
He tunes out of class, answering questions by rote, reading when he's called
upon, but largely, it's a blur. Surely it'll end soon... he hopes.
But even after he finishes, even after he goes home and does homework for a few
hours, even after Dojima gets back and asks question after question about where
he'd been only to eventually sigh and relent with Souji's promise that he'd
just gone impulsively to Yosuke's—even after all of that, he still feels blank.
He goes to bed numb, hoping that his best friend might text him for some
strange reason, or any of the Investigation Team, or most of all, Adachi. But
his phone is silent that night, and he drifts off uneasily: something that's
becoming too routine for comfort.
===============================================================================
It's not that Souji ever fully gets used to it, but as another month passes, it
begins to feel something like normal—avoiding the eyes of his friends even more
than before and brushing them off when they try to talk to him so that he can
spend time with Adachi instead, determined to ensure that things don't fall
apart like before. Even like this, it's far from perfect; any satisfaction he
feels with Adachi comes about only if he manages to keep his balance upon the
tightrope of his good will, and most moments of happiness are extremely
temporary. His triumphs are few and and far between, ill-won moments where
Adachi treats him relatively kindly, making him think he might've finally been
forgiven. But then they fight again, and Souji realizes this must just be the
way things are.
He's watched lots of dramas. It's easy to get into them when you spent so many
of your formative years without friends or a family that would pay attention to
you. At any rate, he's seen how it goes on those sorts of shows; they're always
dramatic and full of misunderstandings, but there's happy endings too. Of
course, he knows better than to believe reality is anything like that.
But he's trying. And for each second he feels unsure of this relationship,
Adachi always manages to make up for it later, somehow.
In the present case, he'd actually asked first if Souji wanted to go on a date.
And it feels good to not think he's pushing it, so Souji agrees.
It's the usual thing—a drive to Okina and then dinner somewhere. That's always
enough for Souji, and he's happy, although a little shocked at each sudden
display of affection from Adachi. An arm wrapped around his waist, for
instance. A kiss delivered quickly. Sometimes Souji's not sure if he can
initiate these things himself, finding Adachi temperamental most often, but
today he accepts them, so Souji takes it a step further and leans against
Adachi for a hug while they wait to pay the dinner bill.
Afterward, he's standing outside, alone in the early August warmth as he waits
for Adachi to use the restroom, and he assumes that the hand that lands upon
his shoulder belongs to him—but it tugs him around hard and he stumbles,
confused.
It's Yosuke. And right now, Souji desperately doesn't want to see him, not when
he's finally getting some measure of peace with Adachi. He pushes him off and
toward one of the alleys urgently, glancing behind himself to ensure that
they're still alone out here.
"What do you—" he starts once they're sequestered away, only Yosuke interrupts
him fiercely.
"Is this what you've been up to? Going out with Adachi?"
So this is it. He's been found out finally, and he goes blank. But who
is Yosuke to judge? He hadn't wanted Souji, so what does it matter to him who
Souji chooses to spend his time with?
"Yes. So?"
"So—so that's messed up! Why him?"
Souji looks over Yosuke's shoulder, making eye contact only with the brick wall
behind him. "Because I want to."
And he knows he sounds stubborn, but where was Yosuke to care before now? Where
was he when Souji needed his best friend, when all he wanted to do was make up
for what he did? Was a kiss really so much to damn them?
"You... you can't do this. He's like, thirty years old! Do you know how messed
up that is? What does he even do for you that you couldn't get with someone
your own age?" Yosuke demands.
"I like him. And he likes me. That's what I get."
Yosuke shakes his head disbelievingly, mouth open as he stares at Souji.
"Man—that's not right. You've been avoiding us for him? Does your uncle know?
There's no way he'd be happy about this," he says.
Souji's pulse speeds up rapidly. Dojima can't know; things in Inaba are
difficult enough for him already, and why is it that every time he gets
something, it feels like it's only going to be torn away in the end? Either by
Adachi's dissatisfaction and Souji's inability to keep him happy, or
apparently, by Yosuke?
His voice is low, on the verge of threatening. "Yosuke. If you tell him, I'm
not going to come near any of you again."
They're both frustrated. It's easy to tell, the agitated line of Yosuke's
shoulders versus the slump of Souji's. At every bend he's been beaten down this
year; nothing is ever going right, but he has a hand in this. He can stop this.
"Why? Why would you even..." Yosuke asks, and he sounds... broken. Souji can't
help the pang of sympathy and need he feels, wanting so badly to collapse
against Yosuke and ask for forgiveness, but knowing that it's not a
possibility. Not anymore. Things can get sorted out, but they're never going to
be the same.
"It shouldn't matter. I already made my mind up," says Souji.
And then Yosuke steps forward and kisses him. It's deja vu—the feeling of his
lips, the warmth of his body, enough that Souji feels weak. If only this had
come sooner. If only it had been enough to keep him from jumping into something
that he's not sure he can maintain now.
Too little, too late, though. He pushes Yosuke away, shaking his head.
"I can't. You don't even... you don't even like me like that," he says. He
sounds more destroyed than he wants to, and he's shaking as he steps away.
Despite everything Yosuke calls out to him, he keeps his head down as he starts
walking, and he supposes it figures when he walks right into Adachi. Fate has
shown time and time again that it's never kind enough to give him a break, and
it's easy to tell that Adachi saw exactly what happened by the irritated
grimace on his face.
At least it's not directed at him. That makes him feel relieved, although not
for long.
"Hanamura-kun... I'm pretty sick of you skulking around. I think if I see you
around Souji-kun one more time I might just lose it, y'know? He's mine," Adachi
taunts, grinning widely as his fingers fold into the shape of a gun, then fire
off an imaginary shot at him.
"Souji, what—" Yosuke blurts, eyes still on him.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" yells Adachi, and that gets his attention pretty
good.
"You're just some creep! And that's my friend."
Adachi's sneer gets wider, more frightening to Souji's eyes. "Hey, who are you
to judge what your friend wants to do? Didn't you miss your chance to plow him?
Maybe it's your fault he came to me in the first place."
Souji swallows, wondering if Adachi knows more than he lets on—he's unnerved by
the thought. And Yosuke is equally speechless, which leaves Adachi triumphant
as he wraps his arm around Souji's shoulders.
"Ah, and if I hear about you saying anything to anyone... well, it's not nice
to make threats, I guess."
Yosuke's mouth hangs open as Adachi tugs Souji around. He's unable to speak,
unsure what to say or feel as he's led back to the car and ushered inside.
"Adachi-san—" he starts, once they're buckled in and heading home.
"Shut up. You think I didn't see how you kissed him back? Is that what it's
been about all along? Hanamura-kun won't fuck you, so you go for me?"
He's vicious, lashing out like he never has before. Souji should have known
better, but it's really too late. And he's sick of Adachi thinking the worst of
him.
"I like you, Adachi-san. Whatever I used to feel for him is gone; I've told
you, I'm with you."
Adachi scoffs, but apparently he can't come up with anything to say against
that. That's fine; Souji's stewing for the impending argument when they get
back to his apartment, coming up with all the things he can finally get back at
him with, only Adachi drops him off at the corner of the street back to
Dojima's house.
"Get out. I'm sick of seeing you acting all pitiful lately. You should be happy
I'm giving you something to really be upset about, Souji-kun! Hey, maybe I'll
wanna see you again in a couple days, but don't you dare call me or sneak into
my apartment like you did last time. I don't want to see you first, got it?
Just consider us broken up."
He drives away before Souji can get a word in. For a long time, he stands there
trembling—not sure what to do, where to go, what to feel.
He's guilty, but part of himself is a little bit relieved to not be walking on
eggshells for the time being. And then that part is swallowed up by the whole,
the churning emptiness that leaves him terrified of how he's supposed to
survive until this blows over again.
===============================================================================
If life without his friends and with Adachi was difficult, life without his
friends and without Adachi is harder—a void punctuated only by Nanako and
Dojima, the few people in town he still gets any kind of pleasure from seeing.
How long has passed? A month? Two months? He thinks he might have missed school
a couple days. Maybe several days. He's stopped going to club activities; his
homework has slipped up. The only thing he forces himself to remember is the
Midnight Channel, the act of saving people, adding them to a group that he can
barely acknowledge without feeling sick anymore. He speaks to them only for the
investigation—nothing else. He can't stomach conversations for that long
anyway; may as well not even be their leader.
It used to be that he didn't need the motivation of people to get through this,
but now that he's had a taste of what it's like to be cared for, he can no
longer just pretend that it's all fine.
Because it's not. It never was, not when he was ten years old in Osaka feeling
out of place amongst new accents and new trends, looked upon as a curiosity
from the more stuck-up city until people finally lost interest in him and
instead made underhanded remarks behind his back (which he could still
always, always hear). Not when he was thirteen years old and trying so hard to
fit in with his dad's cousin's family for the summer—feeling awkward and out of
place in their house, amongst their children. Feeling alone and unable to
relate, his guardians making no attempts to try and include him. A nuisance, he
felt like.
It wasn't even alright last year, at home in Tokyo for a change and
starting high school now, girls suddenly interested in him after a growth spurt
that caused him to shoot up a good five inches what felt like overnight, enough
to apparently be considered attractive and desirable. Guys disliked him for his
popularity, having never known him before—no friendships carried over from
middle school here—and thus no friendly feelings for him to get in the way of
their jealousy. And girls soon stopped bothering with him when he unfailingly
rejected their advances anyway, one part nervous and awkward and two parts
terrified of making any kind of connection, knowing it would never last.
Now he's got the loneliness and the sick satisfaction of being right, of
knowing that even when you try so hard, even when it looks like there's a light
at the end of the tunnel, it's all a lie. And it hurts all the more knowing
that he had tried, that he'd hoped. In the end he has nothing—less than
nothing, just a clawing feeling inside of him like a wound festering.
"Are you really doing your best?" asks a familiar voice in his dreams, royal
blue and ethereal. "Did you do everything you could? Are you satisfied?"
He wakes up feeling jittery, the dream remaining on his mind all day. It's
raining hard, and he feels anxious when he turns on the TV that night; it's
been more than a month since Kubo, but nothing feels right, or resolved. So it
doesn't surprise him that there's someone new.
But it feels like a dream when his phone rings, right on that old schedule that
he thought he'd forgotten. He's perfectly still, hoping it might be Adachi at
last, but that'd be too much of a coincidence. Instead, the number is
unrecognizable—one that hasn't called him a single time since that day with
Adachi in Okina.
He answers, but says nothing.
"Were you watching?" Yosuke asks, voice tight in his ear.
"Yes."
"So then... we need to sort this out."
Souji knows. Even though he feels like he's not friends with them anymore, he
still has an obligation, and he's kept it up the past few months in spite of
his depression. At least this always feels good to break the monotony.
"I know. I won't let them die."
"You—you know we want to help too, right? You're not going to do this alone."
Souji's silent. What is he supposed to say to that? Could he even act like he
was holding it together long enough to see them? Have they seen through him
this whole time? Is he still their leader? He can't remember what they've
treated him like since he unofficially separated from them, too blinded by his
own assumptions of them.
"Uh... I just. I wanted to apologize, anyway," Yosuke says. "It's been on my
mind a lot and... I think... it was never you that messed things up with that
kiss. It was me. And I was wrong to ignore how much it hurt you. So... I'm
sorry."
Souji swallows. He's been blaming Yosuke for what happened between he and
Adachi, but it feels good to hear him admit that it had been on his mind as
much as it had been on Souji's. And he's too weak to push him off again and
again.
"Thanks. But I don't think it was your fault either."
Yosuke lets out a relieved breath on the other end of the line, plowing on. "It
was. I shouldn't have freaked out like that. You're my best friend, y'know?"
It hurts to hear him say it like that, even when Souji'd thought he was over
this. But a best friend is better than nothing, isn't it? "You're my best
friend too," he says.
"So... so we're good?"
"Yeah," Souji says.
"Okay." Yosuke sounds like Souji feels right now; in turmoil, but hesitantly
happy, in essence. "Okay. Great. So... I'll talk to you at lunch tomorrow."
"Yeah," says Souji again.
That night, he goes to sleep, and for the first time in a long time he doesn't
hate the idea of waking up in the morning.
===============================================================================
The next day at lunch, Yosuke walks up to his desk, looking nervous. But Souji
can't help it—he's already smiling, so relieved that it hadn't been a dream,
that Yosuke really does want to see him. It's not long before Yosuke is smiling
too, shaking his head.
"Hey, partner."
"Hey," Souji says, feeling breathless. Color seems to bleed into the world all
at once, filling that empty, gaping void that he'd let take over him. He knows
he should take it slow, but he can't. He's too excited.
"So, I figured we'd eat on the roof with everybody else. Is that cool...? Or
did you want to wait?"
"We can go," says Souji. He's nervous, but he can do this. He knows he can.
They walk up together, and everybody's smiling and happy to see him, telling
him how relieved they are, telling him to never scare them like that again—that
they don't get the whole story, but it doesn't matter.
And he's so happy to be welcomed back into their fold that he forgets about
Adachi for a while. He's got to admit, they're good at distracting him,
especially when the topic moves on to how they're going to handle things this
time. At this point, they're pretty seasoned with it, and plans unfold
regardless of the time Souji had spent apart from them.
The bell signaling the end of lunch rings far too fast, leaving him momentarily
terrified. What if this is the end...? What if it doesn't mean anything?
But Rise is wailing, wrapping her arms around him until he can do nothing but
pat her on the back, awkward yet affectionate. "Don't ever leave me again,
senpai!" she cries, tears wetting the shoulder of his jacket until she
reluctantly pulls away.
"Hey, we're counting on you, senpai," says Kanji, his eyes firm on Souji's, and
he nods in reply.
"We can't do it without you," says Yukiko, serene but strong.
"Yeah, leader. You're the one that's got it all figured out," says Chie. He
smiles at her, dipping his head.
"You're the one that brings us all together, partner," says Yosuke, slapping
him on the back and drawing him into some kind of half-hug. "We need you."
In his chest, he feels the part of himself that had hardened up and tucked
itself away shattering again. How could he have ever thought they didn't want
him around? The relief is clear in each and every one of them, and as they all
pull him into a tight circle of hugs, he feels tears sting at his eyes.
Over the next few days, things become as close to normal as they've ever been.
The distractions of trying to get a handle on Naoto and what it is that will
help them find him takes up most of his time, and his friends make sure to keep
him busy the rest of it.
Maybe they know. Maybe Yosuke told them all about that look of pain on Souji's
face the first time he'd seen Adachi with someone else. Maybe he'd detailed the
way Adachi's arm draped possessively around his waist on that date in Okina.
Maybe they all secretly pity him.
He still thinks about Adachi every day without fail, waiting for that call and
trying so hard to do as he'd been told, to not call first. But it's hard. He
hates being without Adachi, has had enough time away from him to not be so
upset about the hardships of their relationship.
Still, he's grateful for his friends' distractions. And there's even more once
they finally find the secret lair, fighting through and rescuing Naoto, opening
their fold once more.
The group grows by one (assuming Naoto is interested). And things feel good.
Normal. Souji's contenting himself with another job well done, and then he
walks in the front door of the Dojima household, and there's Adachi, ready to
destroy any sense of stability he'd gained.
He's sitting at the table, already clearly drunk—wavering back and forth in
front of Souji's eyes. What's he supposed to say?
"Heeey, welcome home!" Adachi calls out first.
"... Hi. I'm home," Souji says. He swallows hard as he steps forward, feeling
like he's walked into a patch of slowed time, his entire world starting to feel
a little bit off again.
"C'mon, siddown." Adachi pats the empty space beside him, and Souji hesitates
just long enough that he starts to look annoyed.
He moves forward quickly then. It wouldn't do to irritate him, not when his
decision probably rides so heavily upon Souji behaving in a manner that will
make Adachi want him back.
Because he needs that. It's all well and good to have his friends, but
Adachi—that's who he loves. That's why he's always told himself to stay away
from people, because he knows that he loves too easily, and gets hurt all the
more for it. He needs this.
Adachi chatters on about Naoto turning up again, Souji returning polite answers
that are both distancing himself from Adachi and making him all the more
desperate to be close again. But Dojima's suspicious, and he has to think quick
to come up with reasonable answers for him in turn.
Only, before he can ever say them, Adachi's there first—defending him from each
line of questioning, making Souji tentatively wonder if this means Adachi's
feeling a little better toward him now.
It pisses Dojima off, clearly. He storms off to bed before too long, and then
it's only Souji and Adachi, Nanako sitting behind them at the dinner table.
"Y'know, he's got a point though. If you were mixed up in it," Adachi says, and
Souji gets the strange feeling that he'd just been feigning all that drunken
behavior. "We'd be real worried."
He sounds intimidating at the same time as his voice softens near the end, but
more than being found out as having a connection to the case, Souji feels
terrified that Adachi knows he's been seeing his friends again.
"Is it over?" Nanako asks quietly, getting up and padding around to hover
behind Souji.
"It'll be fine, Nanako-chan! We've got it all under control!" Adachi assures
her. It sounds believable enough, but he's soon standing up as if to beat a
hasty retreat, saying he'd better get out of their hair now that Dojima's gone.
Yet his eyes linger on Souji's a moment, flicking toward the door as he puts
his shoes on.
When Nanako has gone upstairs to bed, Souji stands up and tiptoes toward the
door. He cracks it open, and sure enough, Adachi is standing out there waiting
for him.
His breath heavy in his lungs, he steps forward until he comes to a stop in
front of Adachi. "Hi, Adachi-san," he practically whispers.
Adachi smiles at him, the drunken flush on his cheeks paining Souji with the
knowledge that he can't touch. He wishes he could kiss him.
Instead, Adachi's fingers curl through his hair as he pulls him into the shadow
of the carport, his mouth warm at Souji's ear.
"You've been behaving, right? Not getting into any trouble?" he asks.
Souji shakes his head. "I've been doing exactly what you told me," he lies.
"Hehe... that's good." His mouth is sloppy as it moves to kiss Souji, and he
melts into it, so glad for the familiar unpracticed touch of his lips that he
feels physically weak.
He kisses back as long as Adachi will allow it, a good couple minutes in which
he presses their bodies tight together, desperate for as much contact as he can
get. And then Adachi makes him pull back with the grip in his hair, Souji
wincing at the sting.
"Keep being good," he says as he steps away.
"Adachi-san," Souji calls out softly, his voice shattering just a little.
"Please..."
"Hey, just because I wanted a kiss doesn't mean I'm ready to get back with you,
right? You gotta really show me how much you want it."
===============================================================================
"Just don't see him anymore," Yosuke tells him nonchalantly. They're hanging
out at his house, because there's little to no chance Adachi would pass by here
and see them together, and the previous night has only made Souji more
determined to be with him.
"I can't do that," he says. "I love him."
Yosuke's eyebrows furrow, like he has no idea why Souji would think that way.
"Yeah, but what do you get out of being with him?"
"I just... I like being with him. I can't explain it."
He's kept the details secret from Yosuke. All he knows is that Souji and Adachi
have been together since June now, more than a few months—and that they've been
having trouble. That they're fighting, that he won't take Souji back. He
doesn't even know that Souji's not supposed to be seeing him.
"I like him."
"Hm..."
This probably isn't a topic Yosuke is interested in. Earlier on they were
talking about how the Investigation Team has filled out pretty well, but how
things likely weren't over. And then Souji had brought up Adachi and how he'd
been suspicious of what they were all up to, and Yosuke had asked what was
even up between them. He probably regrets asking—or at least he seems awkward
for the rest of the evening.
So Souji stops bringing it up after that. He dedicates himself to his friends
again, even though his foundations have been rocked from the stability he'd
received those brief few weeks where Adachi wasn't in his life and they had
welcomed him back in with open arms. Each time things have calmed down, Adachi
has come back to remind him just how much Souji misses him, how a part of him
is still off. How he's still incomplete.
He wishes Adachi would hurry up and make up his mind. It's killing him to go to
sleep every night, waiting for a text or a call from him—getting excited
thinking that he has for just a moment, only to find that it was one of his
other friends. He can't keep living like this. The months still feel like
blurs, punctuated by saving people and spending more time with his friends—but
there's still things that aren't right.
And then November arrives and, in quick succession, Dojima finds out about the
letter he'd received, takes him in for questioning while Adachi stands
anxiously at his back—and in that chaos, Nanako gets taken. It's a huge ordeal;
Dojima nearly gets himself killed in his recklessness, Souji sinks deep into a
single-minded need to find her as soon as possible, and in the aftermath, he
doesn't even know if she'll live.
This is his family, both of them in hospital beds struggling. And he's alone at
home, but it's nothing. For once, Adachi has completely left his mind, and his
friends have become the main source of his support.
They hang out with him in turns, coming over at night to keep him company or
eat with him, and he appreciates it. He's so scared for Nanako and Dojima; if
he were to lose them, that would be the two people he's ever felt like were his
real, true family.
It's scary. Everyone agrees with him, too, and they start offering to visit the
hospital with him, which he gladly accepts. It'd be nicer for Nanako to know
everyone cares about her. He knows it's what he would have wanted if it were
himself lying in that bed.
"Big... bro?" she asks weakly one afternoon. His hand touches hers, cradling
her tiny palm in his.
"I'm here, Nanako."
"Thank... you," she says. He doesn't get it; he stays silent for a long time,
waiting for her, but her eyes just shut and her breathing goes deep and
rhythmic again. Sleeping. That's all she ever does, but maybe it means she's
getting better. Maybe her body is trying that hard.
"I'll go get us some drinks, okay?" Yosuke says beside him. It's just he and
Souji now; everyone else had gone home to take care of their own duties.
Souji sinks into a chair, covering his face with his hands. It's exhausting,
but everyone is doing their best. He'd seen Dojima earlier and if nothing else,
he was very spirited and anxious to get out of that bed.
The door opens again as he's pressing his fingertips to his eyelids. It seems
like it hasn't been nearly enough time for Yosuke to have returned with drinks,
but he takes his hands away from his face and opens his eyes anyway.
Adachi is crouched in front of him, the sight of him so sudden it frightens
Souji. He jerks back in the chair, but Adachi just smiles up at him, resting
his hand on the side of Souji's neck.
"I saw Hanamura-kun in the hallway. He's keeping you company, huh?"
Souji hesitates. He feels intimidated, cornered, a rush of dread flooding
through him at the knowledge that Adachi's seen. This is going to start the
whole process over again, he's going to have to fight even harder to get Adachi
back on his side—
"Hey, it's okay. C'mere." Adachi ushers him forward, hands on his hips so that
Souji's face is a whisper of breath away from his own. "You wanna get together
again, don't you? It's hard on you... so I should be here for you."
Wordlessly, Souji nods. Of course he does. That's all he's been thinking about,
isn't it? ... At least before all of this. "I want to..."
"Yeah. Me too."
Souji smiles broadly in relief, and Adachi smiles back as he kisses Souji
briefly, his hand lifting to cup Souji's neck again.
"I think it'll be okay now." Except his hand is tightening around Souji's neck,
making his breath shorten and once again, dread starts to flood him as Adachi's
fingers press down, because there's no mistaking what this is.
He'd known from the start that this wasn't like those dramas—that he wasn't
going to get his happy end, but only because reality isn't like fiction; it
never ends. Except maybe it's not like them because nothing is ever so simple
or coincidental, because real life doesn't follow the rules of fiction, because
situations can't just resolve themselves all tidily.
He's looking desperately into Adachi's eyes, pleading with him, trying to
speak, but the words don't come out. And all he can hope is that Nanako doesn't
open her eyes, that she won't have to see this, or that Yosuke won't walk back
in on this. They shouldn't have to know. It's not their burden to bear.
"It's okay... because you're still mine, aren't you? You're always going to be
mine."
Because Souji let him in, and now he's never going to be able to get him out.
He'd ignored every sign presented to him, every situation that he should have
stepped back and considered more deeply, gave him chance after chance to dig
all the deeper inside of Souji. Now Adachi's stuck in him like some disease,
through bad and good, festering inside him because he'd let him in. And to tell
the truth, Souji still doesn't regret it.
Adachi releases him suddenly, and he gasps in a harsh breath, coughing and
sputtering as Adachi rubs his back soothingly. That's how it is. He's always
the injury and the cure, and only time will tell whether his final moment
breaks Souji completely, or builds him back up.
"You love me, don't you?" Adachi asks, his lips brushing over the tears of
distress that had leaked from Souji's eyes. "Let me hear you say it, and I'll
take you back."
He coughs again, his throat aching. There's not even a question of whether or
not he's going to say it, because he knows he is. He knows he doesn't have any
other choice. This is the person that wants him, isn't it? He might be bad, he
might be cruel at times—but he wants Souji like nobody else ever could. "I...
love you."
"Good, Souji-kun. Come here."
Souji presses his face into Adachi's neck, breathing in deeply, gasping. It's
only right, isn't it? The one time he thought it would be okay to let someone
in, and this is how it's ended. He'd genuinely thought it would be okay, that
all the past's pain would be washed away, that he could help Adachi, too—
Except there's never any fixing people like them. He knows he's got a lifetime
to come to understand that, pinned beneath Adachi's thumb all the while.
"Good. Now you're back where you belong," Adachi says, laughing quietly. And
Souji knows he may as well be trapped, unable to escape from this presence that
will always linger on him.
End Notes
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