Maybe We're Both Suns (maybe that's a motorboat)

Pairing: Harai Kuko & Yamada Ichiro

Rating: T

Tags: Introspection | Past Kuko/Ichiro | Allusions to present Samatoki/Ichiro

Summary: "Yawning as he stretched his shoulders, the redhead let his mind wander to the man he was currently waiting for. They used to be best friends, could they mend their friendship back to that level of trust again? He sure hoped so, he mused as he squinted his eyes due to the sunlight. This was new though, the other had been fairly punctual a couple years ago. This was definitely a first, he hoped the other wouldn’t leave him stood up."



☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Considering it was a warm evening, the streets of Ikebukuro weren’t as busy as they could have been. Whether it was because it’s only Tuesday or because he was lucky did not matter, as long as they didn’t get people asking for a picture or something every 20 minutes was enough for him. He was sure that the locals saw Ichiro enough on a daily basis to only greet him by now, but seeing two division leaders hanging out? They were sure to catch a few looks. So fewer people definitely meant less hassle. Yawning as he stretched his shoulders, the redhead let his mind wander to the man he was currently waiting for. They used to be best friends, could they mend their friendship back to that level of trust again? He sure hoped so, he mused as he squinted his eyes due to the sunlight. This was new though, the other had been fairly punctual a couple years ago. This was definitely a first, he hoped the other wouldn’t leave him stood up. 

A first… Ichiro had been a lot of his firsts, oddly enough. Perhaps it wasn’t as strange, considering the other’s name. Not that it mattered anyway, the number of firsts they had together that’s it, they had only been fooling around and Ichiro himself had had many other firsts with… He slightly rolled his eyes at the thought and clicked his tongue. The thought of it used to embarrass him a little, maybe even make him jealous if he was willing to admit— he was not willing at the time. But a couple years had passed and now it just seemed silly not to admit that he had had a crush on his best friend. But it had been just that, just a little crush, and maybe the rush of hormones mixed with the elation of being part of the Naughty Busters and then Mad Comic Dialogue while they lasted. Who knows really? Kuukou scratched the back of his head, he really didn’t want to dwell too much on it, but as soon as he started it was already too late.

From their early innocuous pecks to their inexperienced and more heated kisses, the ones that were full of tongues and teeth, all of them had been with each other. At first it had been him who had asked the black haired teen what ‘kisses’ felt like and in return, Ichiro had fumbled a bit with his hands trying to come up with an explanation but ended up pressing his lips against his own. Kuukou had been waiting for Ichiro near the school gates, as the other was catching up on homework with the help of his teachers. As the sun was beginning to set and the noise from chatty students had died down, it only seemed natural to ask at the time, perfect even now that he recalled. Even so, it had been awkward , both still had their eyes wide open and lips tightly closed, they did not separate for at least 30 seconds even though it felt like kissing a table when you fell asleep on one. They made faces at each other and broke the contact guffawing at how bad it had been. They had been holding their breath the entire time, it was disastrous just like them, a memory he still holds dear. 

How did the hunger for more than the simple and chaste brush of lips start? The redhead didn’t have to dwell too much on memory lane to remember. It had been after an exhausting fight for territory that the Naughty Busters had obviously won. Exhilaration ran through him, yet a pair of mismatched eyes seemed to want more . More of what exactly? The high that came with battles or something to bring him down to earth once again? Before Kuukou could suggest going to the arcades, to cool down, searching eyes locked with his own pair of ambers. His heart pounded. 

“...can we kiss?”

It was weird to see Ichiro so focused and tense after a battle, he usually relaxed, but now his eyes were fixed on him. To be the target of such passionate gaze, rarely ever seen outside rap battles… 

“Hah? It’s gonna suck man, let’s go to the—“

“No I mean, can we kiss… kiss ?” 

Ichiro accentuated the second ‘kiss’ by licking his lips, unsure but approaching him slowly either way. The monk blinked a few times, was this okay? The adrenaline of the previous battle started building up again, his gut now tense. Was it okay for him to indulge in this? Ah… fuck it. What his father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, to reach enlightenment you gotta first indulge… or something like that. Kuukou was more than okay with the idea of kissing the other. He had been silently wishing for this moment even, he could only take so many furtive glances during battles until it became too much to bear. The monk closed their distance by grabbing the other’s hoodie and yanking him down, clashing their already open mouths unceremoniously as teeth clanked. It had been rough and messy, their bruised lips now matched the rest of the bruises that normally adorned their skin after confrontations. It was perfect. If Kuukou still thought about the glassy look that mismatched eyes gave him after they broke up for air, that’s between him and his hand. 

After that kiss, many more came, and with them came new knowledge about each other. Kuukou found out that he particularly liked when the other sucked on his lower lip, only to let it go with a soft sigh, Ichiro wasn’t as talkative back then so getting to hear any sound from him was more than enough for Kuukou. As for Ichiro, the redhead was surprised that the other took delight in being bitten. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have come as a revelation to him, considering the way the other’s gaze came to life when he faced worthy enemies. Kuukou had been unsure the first time the other had actually asked him to use more teeth, but go figure, it turned out both were a lot into biting. The monk made sure to wordlessly thank his karma for giving him noticeably sharp canines.

If making out behind the school building, alleyways and after rap battles had escalated a little into something more— fevered hands wandering with no set destination, well, that was also between the two of them and whatever wandering spirits were lurking. They were only fooling around, after all.

More than anything carnal however, Ichiro had also been the first one to always make sure that Kuukou ate regularly through the day, as he sometimes forgot when focused on something else. He was the first to rest his head on his own red hair, intimate but soft, a silent affirmation of the trust they shared. If Ichiro had been more outspoken back then, he was sure that the other would’ve whined about being tired, he would have draped himself over the monk and suggested a nice, cold coke. It had been these sort of actions that had colored his pierced ears red enough to match his hair. If Kuukou felt like he was the sun, then Ichiro surely was a star— a white dwarf at it. Not as bright or warm as the sun, but quite up there. Burning the brightest at night, silent but always present. 

The first time they cried together was because of a manga they had been reading. Kuukou wasn’t interested at first, the sheer length of it seemed bothersome, but seeing how Ichiro’s eyes lit up with each passing chapter was enough to ignite his own interest. The blow came in the form of the death of a character they knew was going to die, but it still hit them hard. They proceeded to reassure themselves, through runny noses and wet eyes, that said character was the ‘most awesome ever’ and his fire powers were simply ‘the best’. After all, what was inevitable wasn’t necessarily easier to digest. If only, it usually left you feeling even more powerless. Kuukou wondered if such fate was destined for him too, as he strolled back to the temple on a warm night.  An inevitably bitter separation…

The second time they cried together had been more down to earth. Ichiro, who was a tiny bit more subdued than him, had let a few stubborn tears free, late into a nightly hangout. Lamenting how his brothers definitely saw him as a bad person, the chilly breeze played up the goosebumps on their skin, prompting the monk to embrace him. He allowed himself a few tears, born out of how wounded mismatched eyes had peered down at him. As a monk he didn’t allow pointless mourning, but this was a very real pain that troubled his best friend, so he comforted him. Needless to say, Ichiro always tried his best to appear unbeatable— for the sake of their territories but mostly for his younger brothers. And the redhead admired him for this, but underneath his guarded persona he was a teen just like him, burdened by responsibilities most teenagers didn’t have. Burdened by the actions he carried out on orders. This tiny moment of vulnerability was necessary to carry on, and Kuukou would always have a soft spot for his best friend showing emotions, even if he didn’t allow himself the same freedom.

Heh.

How could he forget? The very first time he saw Ichiro truly glowing— wherein only his eyes showed what he felt, now his entire self had been overflowing with emotion. Unexplored emotions. Kuukou eyed him carefully, as to not alert the other that something wasn’t quite right. They were discussing their recent encounter with Mad Comic Dialogue outside a convenience store, but the other had a different air about him. His shoulders were tense with anticipation, mismatched eyes wide open and cheeks slightly tinted. As if it was divine intervention, realization came to the redhead in the form of sparrows flapping their wings, ready to take off. His best friend looked just like he did when he was at the height of a battle. Ichiro looked just like when the two of them kissed from afternoons to their departure. The monk side glanced at the sparrows and wondered where they were going. 

“Argh!”

Musing to himself as he ruffled his hair, Kuukou let himself fall from his squatting position to just— sitting on the pavement. The other broke out from his stupor and looked at him quizzically, arching the brow above his beryl eye. He saw himself reflected on the sea of green for a second, drowning in there. 

Ichiro sure looked cute emoting like this… lucky bastard. 

Weeks after that, it had been the first time the redhead had seen the other brimming with affection. Not the limitless affection Ichiro had for his two younger brothers, nor the amiable affection he had for Kuukou. Or even the soft gaze full of affection he had for the stray cats they frequently fed on the street, on the parks, outside the temple… No, it was the kind of affection someone infatuated oozed. Blowing a bubblegum bubble as he hummed, the redhead saw how the other ruffled his best friend’s hair after blowing smoke on his face. The two were on their own world as they shoved each other and guffawed. His pink bubble made of gum popped— this was not infatuation, and it surely wasn’t a one man struggle. Kuukou blinked once, twice, until he felt Sasara’s hand on his shoulder. It’s weight was meaningful even though the older man did not utter a word, not even a corny joke. 

It sure had been a sight to see (and a headache). 

With unshed tears blurring his eyesight and a lump on his throat, it was thanks to Ichiro that he knew the pain of a broken heart. He was mourning their friendship, he was mourning their lost  connection. He swallowed the lump on his throat, was he mourning or was he enraged? He couldn’t focus… no, he was furious! He couldn’t even fathom how soft Ichiro had become in a few months. The taller teen wouldn’t even fight back, he let himself be punched on the face! It was pathetic—unsightly for a man, and Kuukou did not need a weak man on his team so he was leaving MCD. A buzzing pain on the side of his head made itself present whenever he tried to think of Ichiro’s stupid face. The lone mole in his face was the only feature he could focus on without feeling an excruciating headache that left him feeling nauseated. For a second, he remembered the warmth of mismatched eyes, sparkling with something , directed at him but it was soon replaced by disgust. Ichiro disgusted him. He saw red. One lone red orb flashed through his mind, soon replaced by a pair of ruby eyes, he saw red . 

Looking back on their first real fight and break up, there was a lot more to it than what he had initially thought— what he was made to believe. But it was no use dwelling on it, he told himself day after day, they had already made up. Even if it was a couple years later. They haven’t had much time to meet in person and talk things thoroughly, but they were slowly trying to smooth their rugged friendship. It was not their fault, he kept repeating to himself, tormented by the punches he threw to his unguarded best friend. Haunted by the watering mismatched eyes that surely cried after their fight. He only hoped that the other was there to at least embrace him, reassure him, whatever —to stop the tears from falling when Kuukou was not there to provide comfort, when he himself was the cause of those tears. The monk really tried not to think about it, but that had also been the first time he had, wrongly, accused Ichiro of being late.

But fuck if he wasn’t pissed off right now, the other man was at least 20 minutes late by now and for real this time around! How can a grown man be so careless? He kicked an empty soda can.

“Kuukou! Sorry for being late, man!”

A blinding smile that reached a pair of mismatched eyes, and a hand that waved his way. As the other made his way to the bench where the monk was waiting, Kuukou put one foot up on the park bench, making himself look more casual and less distracted by past occurrences. When the leader of the Buster Bros!!! was a couple steps away from him, the redhead flipped him off with a sharp toothed grin. The monk was about to stand up when the other bent down to embrace him in a long awaited hug. Or crush him under his weight and strength. Right now, the monk kind of missed the less responsive Ichiro, the situation at hand was more or less insulting to his pride. 

“Haha! Give me a hug!! I’m makin’ it up to you.” 

Kuukou furrowed his eyebrows and barked a ‘ Hah?!’ , but ultimately stopped resisting and untensed his shoulders. It’s not that Ichiro had been completely unresponsive in their teens, he was affectionate in his own way as he had recently recalled, but usually the redhead was more effusive than the now infuriatingly taller one. This wasn’t the first time they hugged after their initial reconciliation, but it was still weird for him, they had changed— Kuukou had changed, he tried to be less emotion driven. ‘Tried’ being a keyword. Kuukou felt his face heat up. The weirdness of the embrace was definitely played up by the fact that Ichiro was crushing him against his chest. It seemed Ichiro’s now golden heart needed a bigger housing than before— Not today earthly pleasures… the redhead prayed , he was a changed man, but fuck! He was already in heaven. 

“Ichiro, ya’ blocking my fucking air supply.”

He mumbled against the opening of the white hoodie, patting the other urgently on the back. He silently thanked his karma again for Ichiro not being like this back then. 

“Huh?” 

“Ya’ tits are too big man, knock it off.”

Kuukou laughed gleefully at the other’s mortified face when he pulled away. His face was burning and he felt breathless, but one quick glance at the other and well, he was even redder than the monk. He missed their silly banter. 

“Well sorry that you can’t handle ‘em, not my fault that your face is right there! Should’ve thought about that before you stopped growing.”

Oh? The little shit had the audacity to say that with a cheeky grin. Kuukou stuck out his tongue to mock him but the other did the same back at him, a challenge clear on their eyes, until they couldn’t hold back the guffaws. They were ridiculous. 

“Well I’m sure someone will throw a hissy fit if he knew ya’ were tryin to get me to motor boa—”

“HEY! Not cool man.”

They shoved and pushed each other just like when they were teenagers. No ill intentions behind their bickering, just two grown men fooling around. Kuukou playfully swatted the hand that was trying to ruffle his hair as they laughed, he dared to peek up at Ichiro and his breath caught. The other was radiating happiness, not only his mismatched eyes told him so, his relaxed stance was indicative enough. He had changed, they had changed— but Kuukou dared to say that they were both suns now, shining brightly and warming each other. A heartfelt smile tugged at his lips, he was glad. He had been wrong. There was no friendship to mend, as it wasn’t broken, they just had to thread some loose ends.

“Well then, how would the rest of Bad Ass Temple feel if they knew how much you cried reading manga back then, huh?”

“Haha! How would ya’ dog feel if he knew to what extent ya’ ‘fooled around’ with me.” 

“H-hey that’s a low blow!”

“Ya’ tits are the real low blow Ichiro.” 

As they made their way to the old arcades, bickering loudly through the streets of Ikebukuro, Ichiro had his arm around Kuukou’s shoulders. It was a sunny Tuesday evening and everything was finally back in place.