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Kojiro had never really been invested in pop culture, it was a fact he was proud of and one that others tended to make fun of him for. For example, someone would mention an artist or a song, and Kojiro would blink back at them in confusion, and their reply would be something like “How do you not know Ed Sheeran?! He is one of the most famous western singer song-writers of our time!”

To this day, Kojiro still has no clue who he was, hadn’t even bothered to google him.

Which is why, when an attractive man stormed into his restaurant, pink hair tied into a neat braid donning an expensive-looking purple kimono with eyeliner sharp enough to cut diamond, he didn’t think much more of him. Well, aside from the words he quickly threw out.

“Pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“I— huh?!”

“You heard me. Please, I’ll give you anything, just pretend for a moment—“

And then the bell above the door chimed, and in strode a snooty-looking man, his brown hair fixed into a permanent quiff created only by too much gel, his suit fraying at the edges. Not to mention his face, his eyebrows practically touching with how close they were pulled together, his frown tugging unattractively at his face, eyes ablaze. “Where is he then?! If you’re so hell-bent on this stupid idea that you’ve finally settled down—“ 

The angry man cut himself off when the pretty man motioned to Kojiro himself, a proud smirk playing at his sparkling features, bringing out his golden eyes. Honestly, if Kojiro hadn’t been staring at him so long he may have noticed his every patron whispering excitedly between themselves and a couple cameras pointed directly at them. “Meet my boyfriend—“

And “Kojiro Nanjo,” wasn’t sure why he went along with it. Maybe it was the eyes, or the smirk, or the hint of genuine relief in his posture after he spoke, but he did. “Can I help you, sir?” He asked, pointedly looking at the brunette with a raised eyebrow, settling a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder in front of him. 

“I— uh—“

“Harassment in my restaurant is never acceptable.” Then, Kojiro turned slightly to the man in front of him, finding him already turning to face him, a more genuine smile playing at his cherry-tinted lips. “Is he bothering you, babe?”

And then his nose crinkled, minutely and in obvious distaste, and Kojiro had to hold back his snicker. “Yes, he is.” He huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to face the man still stood in the doorway, blocking a few new customers from heading in. They didn’t seem too bothered though, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. 

Kojiro supposed it was an odd scene, considering some of his regulars were present and knew he was single, and had been for a couple years. 

“Please leave the building, sir, before I have to remove you myself.”

The man took one glance at Kojiro’s arms and nodded, making his way out without so much as an apology.

The moment he rounded the corner, the man in front of him deflated, falling into one of the bar stools with a groan, hands pressed over his face. Equally, Kojiro took a safe step back, deciding to wipe down a nearby wine glass — the man looked like he needed some. 

On the house, of course. 

“I am so sorry for that—“

“Don’t apologise, he was the one being a dick.” Kojiro laughed out, watching as the other peeked his eyes through his fingers, still frowning. 

“But I brought him here, and caused a scene, and roped you into it—“

“Look, I like to do all I can to help people, it was the least I could do.” Kojiro shrugged, taking his personal bottle of wine from under the counter, filling the glass and sliding it over the other who eyed it with thinly-veiled interest. “On the house.”

“Oh, no, I’ll pay, this looks expensive—“

“Nonsense, you look like you need it.” He replied, noting the hesitance as he reached out to take the glass, sniffing the top of it before taking a sip. “Kojiro Nanjo, nice to meet you.” He held out a hand, which the other took with a smile… and said nothing else.

He just sipped the wine again. 

Kojiro couldn’t help his scoff, leaning his elbows on the counter to lower himself to the other man’s height, getting a better view of just how silky his long pink hair looked, the light marks on his pale skin, a necklace that disappeared down the front of his kimono.

“Am I meant to guess your name?” 

The man paused in sipping his drink, brows furrowed as he looked at Kojiro with an expression he could only describe as baffled, a line being carved between his eyebrows he felt the urge to smooth out. “You— I assumed you knew it.”

“Did you… say it? At some point?” Kojiro would admit he was a tad distracted, but to miss such an important detail? Plus, it wouldn’t make much sense for a man who was supposed to be his boyfriend to introduce himself to him. 

And the other’s jaw just dropped.

“Seriously? You don’t know me?”

“This feels a little egotistical, don’t you think?”

“I literally won an award for being the most famous person in Japan last year!” He almost yelled, arms flying into the air and almost knocking his wine glass over. Which evidently only served to spur him on. “Why did you help me no questions asked then?”

“Because… you asked me to?”

“If I, a stranger, asked you to drink poison knowingly, would you have done it?”

“Well if you looked as desperate as you did then…”

And then the man slapped his arm.

Kojiro should’ve been offended, yelled in a fit of rage and cast him out of the restaurant, but it was obvious the man didn’t hate him or actually want to hurt him, no. His eyes were calling him an idiot. 

“What about the wine? Why did you give me free wine?” He then asked, still obviously confused, and Kojiro shrugged again, because he hadn’t exactly lied beforehand. He really did look like he needed some liquid courage, and he’d promised himself when he opened that he would help every patron however possible.

And if that meant giving a random man a free glass of expensive wine, well.

“Are you going to tell me your name or are you just going to continue to expect me to know it?” Kojiro huffed out, leaning back on the counter with a small smile, watching the confliction flick across the man’s face. 

“Kaoru Sakurayashiki.” And the muttering around them only got louder— in fact, Kojiro had only just realised it was happening; was he really that distracted by the literal gold flakes in Kaoru’s eyes?

Yes. Yes he was. 

“And what got you so famous, Sakurayashiki-san?”

“Just… Kaoru is fine— and I’m a calligrapher.” Kaoru explained, twining his fingers together on the countertop, seeming a little like he’d regained his footing in an odd way. 

“A calligrapher?” Kojiro asked, and Kaoru nodded, picking at his kimono and obviously avoiding eye-contact, most likely from embarrassment. “There are millions of calligraphers in Japan, what makes you special?”

It was a genuine question.

And despite the slightly harsh tone, Kaoru seemed to understand this, looking up at Kojiro as he rested his chin on his palm, seeming to genuinely consider his answer. 

“A lot of the work I do nowadays is something I like to call AI Calligraphy, in which I use my AI system Carla to aid in presentations and holograms, things like that.” Kaoru swilled the wine in his glass before sipping it, looking just behind Kojiro with a hum. “My work is a more modernised version, I suppose.”

“So,” Kojiro started, eyes squinted in concentration as he tried to figure that out, “You have a robot girlfriend that makes everything look cooler?

To Kaoru’s credit, he looked genuinely offended. “To put it in gorilla terms, I suppose. Though she’s not my girlfriend, I’ve never been too interested in women.”

“Surely anyone could just whip up a robot—“

“Who do you think you are?! Carla is a highly technical program with far too many intricacies for your ape mind to comprehend.” It was then that Kaoru stood, wine downed in one gulp and chair already tucked under the counter.

And Kojiro felt a stark sense of urgency to keep him there.

To talk to him, to know him, to annoy the fuck out of him. 

“She is my life’s work and I will not have a chef stand here and insult her to my face—“

“At least stay for dinner?” 

“It’s three in the afternoon!”

Kojiro shrugged and grinned, already refilling the glass of wine and making Kaoru’s gaze morph into a glare, his hands straightening out the wrinkles on his purple kimono, the black obi a little wonky but somehow only serving to make him more attractive. And yet, slowly, Kaoru made his way back to his seat, this time keeping his eyes trained on Kojiro, following his every movement as if one misstep could cause the entire opportunity to come crashing down. “I’ve never had Italian.” Is what he said, and Kojiro couldn’t help his bright smile, his excitement far too much to withhold. 

It was always a pleasure to be someone’s first experience (in eating Italian food, Kojiro always makes a point to explain). 

“Prepare for the best dish you’ve ever had.” Kojiro practically giggled, and as he headed into the kitchen he heard Kaoru mutter a quiet, “And you call me egotistical.”

A bowl was ceremoniously placed in front of Kaoru, Kojiro’s hands settled on his hips as the man looked at the plate and then back up at him, unimpressed. “And this is…?”

“Carbonara.” Kojiro told him, unmoving, waiting.

Kaoru glanced back at the bowl.

“I don’t… know how to eat it.” He admitted as he lifted the fork, head tilted as he studied it, likely trying to figure it out if that calculating gaze had anything to say about it. “Do I just stab it?”

“No, no,” Kojiro reassured, taking the fork from his hands to example it to the man who finally seemed more intrigued than put off, watching as he twirled the fork and lifted it to show the pasta having wrapped around it. “A fork is a bit like chopsticks but in one. I’m surprised you’ve never used one before.”

Kojiro explained as he returned it, ignoring the feeling of Kaoru’s fingers brushing his own as he pulled back, lifting the fork to his nose to smell it.

“My parents are rather traditional, and I’ve never had a reason to use one myself.” Kaoru explained, finally taking a bite— and Kojiro watched his face light up, every crease melting away in real time as he chewed, sparkling golden eyes staring at the bowl in awe. 

“Good?” Kojiro asked knowingly, watching the expression leave just as quickly as it came, watching as Kaoru attempted to get another forkful of it, twisting it as he bit his already worried bottom lip. 

“It’s… edible.”

“Oh please, edible, who do you think you’re kidding sweetheart?” Kojiro scoffed, refilling the wine glass again, watching with nothing short of glee as Kaoru sipped it without hesitation. “My carbonara changes lives. How do you think I got the down payment on the restaurant?”

“I fear you’re going to tell me.”

“I used to be friends with this very rich man, doesn’t have great morals but does have an excellent palate. I won back his friendship and millions of yen of investment into this place.”

“Well, it certainly helps to have connections.” Kaoru muttered, taking another bite of food, something being left unsaid in the air between them.

Well, everything was left unsaid. 

In fact, Kaoru didn’t say another word, and Kojiro had a feeling he didn’t want him to try. So, he shot him a smile and went back into the kitchen to attend to his head-chef duties. 

When he returned fifteen minutes later, Kaoru was readying himself to leave. 

And Kojiro, the ever-optimist, approached him and asked, “Can I have your number?”

The restaurant went silent. 

Kaoru himself seemed thoroughly shocked, as if the free wine and free food hadn’t meant anything, as if he’d expected Kojiro to never speak to him again.

Except Kojiro had known he was royally fucked the moment those golden irises entered his life.

If this man was famous, Kojiro wouldn’t be surprised if he was some deity, sent to Earth to set the beauty standard, to be something eternally untouchable that people yearned for without recompense—

Maybe that’s a little dramatic.

“No, you can’t.” Kaoru replied with a huffed laugh, and Kojiro’s heart dropped. Or broke. It hurt either way. But then, “You can earn it though.”

And before Kojiro could say anything else, Kaoru was whisking himself out of the restaurant, smirking as he left.

The moment he rounded the corner, one of Kojiro’s waiters, Meisa, came up to him and tapped his shoulder. “Did you seriously not know who that was?”

“Wh—“

“And you asked for his number.” She said in a shocked whisper this time, stunned. “Bold move, Nanjo.”

“Why— um, why was it a bold move?”

“Let’s just say everyone knows he’s had difficult experiences with romance— he did an interview a couple months ago saying he would be more than happy being single for the rest of his life,” she explained, and Kojiro immediately bit his lip, looking at the now-empty stool, wondering how the restaurant somehow felt louder without him there, as if he was some calming agent. “But that— I don’t know, Chef, it was bold either way.”

Yet all Kojiro was thinking was you’ll have to earn it.

And he was ready to.

ꨄ︎

In training, his chefs and waiters are taught to not scare people when handling dangerous objects or devices. 

This was a lesson that Meisa deemed unimportant enough to forgo.

“Nanjo!” She shouted across the room, making him almost jump out of his skin and almost stab himself with the knife he was holding, turning to glare at her. Not that she seemed to care, only continuing to shout, “You’re famous!”

“I’m… what?”

“Someone recorded the altercation from yesterday,” she said, speed-walking across the room and holding the phone out to him, the video showing a very clear image of Kojiro holding Kaoru, captioned, ‘Sakurayashiki-sensei has a new boyfriend!’. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

“Do they… know the location?” Kojiro found himself asking, peeking outside into the seating area and finding it to be no different than usual. 

“No, thankfully not. But that doesn’t mean they won’t.”

“And,” Kojiro found himself continuing, turning back around to his work, continuing to chop up the guanciale. “Kaoru hasn’t come back yet?” He asked, careful not to sound too hopeful, but judging by Meisa’s doubtful gaze he assumed he’d failed. 

“No, he hasn’t, and he won’t.” 

“Right, uh— thanks, Meisa. You can get back to work now.” Kojiro replied, placing his knife down and taking the chopping board over to the pan, Meisa leaving without a word.

Being famous was the least of his concerns in that moment. 

Because the reason still wasn’t sat back in front of him.

ꨄ︎

Everyone in the restaurant was utterly unsurprised when the man didn’t show up again for weeks. Everyone except for Kojiro.

Every time the door opened, Kojiro shot his head up to see who was coming in, only to not find the pink hair and gold eyes he was hoping for. Realistically, if he was famous, that probably meant he was also busy, but what stopped him from just never coming back? Nothing, was sadly the answer he found. Meisa had told him two weeks after to let it go and not get his hopes up, but there was this feeling in his gut that told him not to give up just yet.

And, for once, he was glad to be right. 

It was on a Sunday just before closing, the final table were packing up to leave, and in strode a man with a black hoodie and mask, only his eyes visible as he looked up at Kojiro from the other side of the bar, eyes almost intimidating.

But Kojiro knew those eyes from miles away.

“Kaoru,” he greeted, keeping his voice just quiet enough so the table across the way wouldn’t hear him, the man giving him an almost shocked widening of the eyes. “What can I do for you today?”

“How did you know it was me?!” He whisper-shouted back, looking over at the people walking out who were giving them odd looks, opting to just get out as soon as possible.

All Kojiro could do was grin. “I could recognise those eyes anywhere, gorgeous.” He huffed, Kaoru turning around to keep watching him, shock written all over his covered features. But Kojiro could see it anyway, even under the fabric, “What can I get for you?”

“You’re… still serving?”

“Technically?” Kojiro returned, taking the spray and cloth and heading to the tables, taking off the menus and condiments to spray the first one down, Kaoru watching him every step of the way. “No, but I’m not going to turn you away. So what do you want?”

And Kojiro watched in real time as relief filled Kaoru’s system, seating himself on the same stool as last time and throwing his bag onto the counter, tugging his mask and hoodie down. “Carbonara.”

“Little rude there, Sakurayashiki,” Kojiro scoffed, making his way back over just to level Kaoru with a raised eyebrow, the man glaring back at him, “What’s the special word?”

“Or else.”

“Not quite— ow!” Kojiro shouted, grabbing his arm with a pout, “Rude.”

“I’m not in the mood today.” Kaoru mumbled, running his hands down his face. Only then did Kojiro see how tired he was, eyebags dark, brows constantly furrowed, hair a little messy. 

“Everything alright?”

“Just—“ Kaoru started, sighing and resting his cheek on his palm, watching Kojiro with a careful gaze. “I had this guy come in today— he seemed fine at first, but turned out he was just another privileged asshole that thought he could take advantage of me. I don’t know, I just— this was the only place I could think to come to.”

“Because of the super hot head chef? Or the super amazing food?”

“Neither.” Kaoru bit out, but Kojiro had a good feeling it was both, continuing to smirk as the tips of Kaoru’s ears turned red, the man immediately moving his hair to cover it. “Shut up.”

Clapping his hands, Kojiro announced, “One carbonara coming right up.” But his tone hinted to it being closer to a promise than anything else. What the promise was was yet to be decided.

“I could definitely beat you in a fight,” Kaoru was just about saying around his food, Kojiro gaping at him in shock, “You underestimate my strength, Nanjo.”

“And I think you’re somehow underestimating mine.”

“No, it’s like— have you heard that argument about who would win, one gorilla or one-hundred people?”

“No.” Kojiro replied honestly, Kaoru thinking nothing of it and shrugging, smiling a little as he swallowed his food, already twirling more carbonara around his fork in a less-than-perfect way.

“I think it would only take one man to defeat you.”

“Wh— hold on!” Kojiro yelled, feeling genuine anger simmer inside of him, Kaoru’s smirk only growing, “Did you just call me a gorilla?!”

“A very docile one at that,” Kaoru continued with a point of his fork in Kojiro’s direction, chewing his food still, and Kojiro wasn’t sure he’d stopped eating once in the conversation. “You wouldn’t hurt me even if I hurt you.”

“That’s a brave assumption Pinky.” 

“Brave maybe, but true.” Kaoru replied with a shrug, but this time he was a little hesitant, this time he wrapped the carbonara around the fork a little slower, finally having stopped chewing on his food and instead chewing on his cheek, not meeting Kojiro’s eyes. “At least I hope so.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Kaoru brushed off with a mumble, his immediate prickliness effectively convincing Kojiro to back down, instead watching Kaoru very carefully. “Just— I walked in and demanded food and you just— gave it to me.”

“I’m a chef?”

The look Kaoru gave him then could only be described as exhausted. 

“You closed half an hour ago!”

“I wanted you to come back,” Kojiro explained easily, trying to find something in Kaoru’s eyes to gauge his reaction but finding nothing, “And you did. Nothing more to it than that.”

“I was rude and— and arrogant, and—“

“You’ve had a bad day, so what? We all do,” Kojiro expressed, shrugging, “And all you wanted at the end of your bad day was to come here.” He smiled then, trying for reassuring but a little worried something more leaked into his expression. “That’s enough for me.”

All Kaoru did for a moment was gape at him. His hair was a little more messy than it had been before, his hand was still wrapped tightly around his fork, and his clothes were far from anything anyone would expect from someone who needed to uphold a certain appearance. In that soft lighting, on that late evening, Kojiro could only see Kaoru as human, not the celebrity people liked to put on a pedestal. Maybe he’d always viewed him that way, but it became apparent that night that he never wanted to view him as anything other than a person who probably desperately needed a hug. 

And then Kaoru laughed. 

Something light and easy, a sound that was a little unused but a beautiful sound nonetheless. 

All Kojiro wanted to do was hear it again.

“You’re truly one of a kind, Kojiro,” he managed out being giggles, wiping at the corner of his eye and blinking away the remaining tears, giggling a little more, “You know— I thought you’d send me away, ask me to come back tomorrow.”

“Why would I do that?” Kojiro asked genuinely, just the thought of it making him feel a little disgusted. That sounded nothing like him. 

But Kaoru looked so… scared. Just as he had the first day, like one wrong word and he’d run.

Not that he answered Kojiro’s question. “You know,” he started instead, pushing around the last couple pieces of spaghetti in his bowl with a frown, his index finger tapping on the handle of his fork, “I’ve been craving this for weeks.”

“Oh?”

He could only assume he was talking about the food, but something about the way Kaoru kept his eyes on the bowl told him otherwise. “But with everything going on, and with how busy I’ve been, I just— it seemed like more stress than it was worth.”

“But…?”

“But,” Kaoru sighed, taking the last bite of his food and looking up, waving the fork around in thought, “After the week I’ve had, it became more of a need than a want.”

“The carbonara?” Kojiro asked after a moment, Kaoru smiling a little, huffing out a half-laugh. 

“Yeah, the carbonara.”

To Kojiro, it sounded like a half-truth at most. 

But a half-truth was leagues better than a lie.

So he took it and ran as many miles as his lungs could manage.

ꨄ︎

It became routine then. 

Kaoru came in just after closing every Sunday and unloaded his every experience of the week over a bowl of carbonara and, sometimes, a glass of wine.

Some weeks he would only have one or two complaints, then they’d just end up bickering for an hour or two, but sometimes they didn’t have enough time to unload everything. It was like a therapy session of sorts, except Kojiro never viewed it that way; he wasn’t giving advice or charging him a shit ton of money (in fact, he never charged him, with his excuse being the till closed when the restaurant did), he was simply there to listen and nod, show someone was there and understood, that Kaoru wasn’t alone.

Because he wasn’t. 

Some weeks he would walk in with this guilty look on his face, and Kojiro would remind him that he was welcome, that he wanted him there, that he didn’t have to sit at home painting all night like the nerd that he was. Though, in the weeks he’d been coming, Kojiro had learned a lot of about him, one thing being that Kaoru struggled to fall asleep and typically spent his time coding and engineering. 

His prized invention was Carla, an artificially intelligent program that he was becoming a little concerned about, judging by his recent claims that she was gaining consciousness.

“She’s programmed to reply to me and to make announcements from my calendar or reminders that I request her to,” Kaoru was explaining that night, red wine in hand with an empty plate in front of him, words not quite slurred but coated in something a little more smooth and easy than usual, “But today I started getting my things ready to leave — to come here — and she just randomly said, ‘Are you headed to Sia la Luce, Master?’ And asked if she should put it into the calendar as a repeat event.” Kaoru sipped his wine then, a contemplative look on his face as Kojiro watched him, unable to stop his own smile.

Because over the weeks he’d learned all of his facial expressions, each of his idiosyncrasies and what they meant, whether he needed to do anything to help. Sometimes, whenever Kaoru was thinking about something a little too deeply, his eyes would move around all over the place, as if he was seeing something in his mind’s eye that was helping him figure out whatever tricky calculation he had to do.

To say it was cute would be an understatement.

“Which was weird, because I only asked her to do that for patterns that happen ten times over— I don’t think it’s been ten, has it?”

Thinking about it, “Yeah, actually, round about.” Kojiro huffed, Kaoru just looking shocked now, his lips slightly parted as his eyes widened. “Time flies, huh?”

“I would say when you’re having fun but,” Kaoru argued, sipping his wine and dramatically breathing out, as if refreshed by the dry, bitter taste, “This is the worst part of my week.”

“By far.” Kojiro agreed, knowing and hoping it was the exact opposite. “I hate seeing you, I sigh every time you enter the restaurant.”

“Oh please,” Kaoru scoffed then, rolling his eyes as he smirked that smug smile of his, that smile that Kojiro found far too hot, “Who are you kidding? That isn’t a sigh of hatred but appreciation.”

“You’d love that,” Kojiro joked, knowing Kaoru had gotten it right on the nose, knowing Kaoru didn’t know he had. 

And then Kaoru didn’t reply.

He looked into his wine for a moment, looking far too conflicted for Kojiro’s liking, before holding a hand out, “Give me your phone.”

“Is this a robbery?” Kojiro laughed as he handed it over, Kaoru turning it on before flipping the screen around for the face ID. “If so you might need to brush up on a few of your skills.”

“Robbers typically take things,” Kaoru mumbled as he typed something into the phone, turning it off, flipping it upside down, and downing his wine before standing, taking his bag with him, “Not give.”

And then he left, not answering Kojiro’s yells, so he decided to just look at his phone and see what had been typed in.

Maybe he’d found his mother’s number and messaged her something horrifically embarrassing— or went onto his company twitter account that he hadn’t used in four years and tweeted a photo from his camera roll.

But that wasn’t what he found.

Instead the messages app was open, a new contact blinking back at him, named ‘Kaoru <3’.

He wasn’t sure whether his heart skipped a beat at the heart or the fact he gave him his number in the first place.

Maybe it skipped twice. 

Maybe it skipped a third time when he looked at the message sent to Kaoru’s phone from his own, reading ‘You earned it.’

Maybe he giggled like a schoolboy with a crush, but thankfully no one was around to confirm or deny it. 

ꨄ︎

In all honesty, Kojiro hadn’t expected to see Kaoru outside of work. Usually it was every Sunday and that was the extent of it, aside from the ‘good morning’ messages he sent every time he woke up and the cat memes he thought Kaoru would appreciate, but whilst out shopping for a few bits for the restaurant Kojiro stumbled upon a presentation. The crowd was almost too big to see past, they were filling the entire walkway, blocking Kojiro’s path. 

Not that anyone around seemed to care, gaping at the display in front of them.

So Kojiro thought he’d entertain them and have a look— only to find Kaoru, an oddly neutral look on his face that he’d never seen before, calm and collected as he painted beautiful kanji on a large piece of paper on the floor, a camera projecting his face and artwork onto the screen behind him, gasps rippling across the crowd as he stood, piece complete.

Love isn’t given or found, it’s created and built.

Then they clapped, and bigger cameras were shoved in Kaoru’s face, his eye twitching minutely as a mic was held in front of him, a guy asking him questions that sounded extremely boring; judging by the irritated glint to his eyes, they were all questions that had been asked before.

“Why did you become a calligrapher?”

“Do you have anything to say to fans watching at home?”

“Where did you learn such skill?”

And Kaoru returned each question with an equally as boring answer.

“Because I enjoyed calligraphy as a kid.”

“Keep practicing.”

“My teacher, Kimura-sensei, taught me everything he knew and still allowed me room for growth.”

But there was one question. One question that had Kojiro pausing, that had Kaoru’s eyes widening.

“What inspired this piece?” He asked him, and before he could reply he said, “Many have theorised that your new romance would influence your new work, which this seems to hint to.”

“Uh,” Kaoru replied eloquently, eyes looking over the crowd as if he was searching for the answer, evidently finding nothing and looking back to him, something calculating crossing his features before it levelled out again. “All of my experiences influence all of my works, new and old, it was inevitable that this new… person offered some inspiration.”

Which was odd.

He didn’t deny any relationship, nor did he confirm it, and he almost confirmed his, and evidently everyone else’s, suspicions.

Without letting himself ponder it, Kojiro simply left, hauling his bags back to his car to head to the restaurant.

He was overthinking it.

Definitely.

“Then, just today, he came back demanding the piece that, like I said before, won’t be done until Tuesday.” Kaoru was ranting, slamming his glass down on the counter to let his arms fly into the air without risking spilling his wine, the picture perfect definition of stupefied. “So I told him I wouldn’t make his piece— anyway, the internet went a little crazy on both sides of the argument, because he’s this big influencer, so obviously a lot of people are on his side, but I don’t like getting into these kinds of things. Of course my fans understand the kind of person I am and that I wouldn’t just cancel a commission for no reason, but some people believe that. They’re all just bored with their lives, I think.”

“Well he sounds like a dick,” Kojiro scoffed, and Kaoru just hummed, shrugging. 

And said nothing else.

Just kept eating his carbonara. 

Meaning his rant of his week’s happenings was over.

Meaning he hadn’t mentioned what happened at all. 

“Is that… everything?” Kojiro asked, Kaoru looking up with a questioning glint to his golden eyes, chewing happily as he wrapped his carbonara around his fork easily, the motion now second nature to him. “Nothing else significant happen this week?”

“Uh,” Kaoru got out, chewing his food and swallowing as he thought, looking around the restaurant as if it would help him remember. “I ran out of coffee? So Carla ordered me some in? But it gave me a chance to get one of the ones I like from that shop in town, so.” Kaoru finished with a shrug, looking at Kojiro now, more curious than before. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing, just— never mind.”

“Not never mind, what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, idiot,” Kojiro scoffed with a frown, poking Kaoru’s nose in hopes it would get him to shut up, only making him look a little angrier. “Move on.”

For a moment, it was quiet. 

Kojiro leaning in a little too close, Kaoru chewing his new forkful of carbonara, looking into each other’s eyes, challenging.

Then Kojiro leaned back, and Kaoru’s features dripped back into something a little more neutral, and the world kept turning. 

“Whatever, I have something to ask you,” Kaoru coughed, and that grabbed Kojiro’s attention, perking up as Kaoru shuffled in his seat, his burnt orange kimono scrunching a little more on his lap as he adjusted his dark grey obi, then fiddling with his sleeves. “Don’t feel the need to say yes, okay?”

“Shoot.”

“I have this event next week—“

“I’ll go with you.” 

“Wh— I haven’t even explained what it is! Or what you’ll be doing!”

“You want me to come with you to this event because I’m super cool and awesome.”

“Okay now you’re just making things up.”

“So tell me the truth.” Kojiro practically asked, leaning forward a little with his elbows braced on the countertop, tilting his head just so as Kaoru watched him, eyes moving all over the place— well, that’s not quite right.

All over Kojiro’s face.

Evaluative, calculative.

Then, slowly, he replied, “Truthfully — and don’t make fun of me for this — I don’t like these events. They’re loud, and people ask a lot of questions, and you— ugh, don’t make me say it.” Kaoru watched him hopefully, but Kojiro copied him, waiting for the so-very-dreaded explanation. Of course Kojiro won and Kaoru groaned, burying his face in his hands but not quite hiding his bright red ears, burning almost the same shade as his hair. “I feel comfortable around you, I guess.”

“You guess—? Hey!”

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Stop being an ass,” Kaoru groaned, moving to stand, but the moment he pressed a palm to the bar Kojiro placed his own on top, Kaoru immediately tensing but not moving an inch, not twitching a finger. Just watching him, as if preparing for the worst. “What?” He asked in a whisper, Kojiro almost unable to stutter a reason out.

Because Kaoru looked a little too gorgeous for his mind to comprehend. The soft glow of the lamplight lit him up beautifully, accentuating his jawline and the curve of his nose.

Everything about him was perfect. His eyes, his hair, his lips, his skin, his hands, fitting so perfectly into Kojiro’s even without interlocking them, simply holding, waiting.

“Kojiro?” He asked quietly, gorgeous eyes blinking, eyelashes perfectly curled upwards, pretty and pink and so inviting. 

Kojiro wanted to kiss him.

No matter how true that had been for the weeks he’d known him, they’d known each other, the severity of that thought seemed a lot more stark then than it had when they first met. 

Because now it wasn’t just a passing thought or a small crush.

No, it felt like something a little bigger than Kojiro knew what to do with.

But, instead of letting go, Kojiro only held on tighter. 

“I feel comfortable around you too, Kaoru,” Kojiro said with a small, genuine smile, knowing it sounded odd but fearing the words he would say instead, Kaoru returning the same smile with surprising ease, “And you know if I can ever do anything to help you, I will do so in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” Kaoru replied, and he sounded like he meant it, no matter how confused the words came across. His own hand tensed a little more in Kojiro’s before it relaxed, the man sitting back down and flipping his own hand over, clasping Kojiro’s in his own no matter how awkward the hold was, “I just can’t quite figure out why.”

‘It was inevitable that this new… person offered some inspiration’

‘You wouldn’t hurt me even if I hurt you. At least I hope so.’

Kojiro knew why, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted Kaoru to know or not.

So he kept his mouth shut and pulled away, turning around to fetch another wine glass and a new bottle of merlot, missing how Kaoru pulled his hand closer and pressed his fingers along the divots, remembering the feeling of his hand in his own.

He missed that soft, long look, how he lifted his head and opened his lips to speak the words that tickled his throat, only to close them and swallow his words with the rest of his wine. 

And then Kojiro turned to pour him a new one, and his face was carefully happy again, and he poured his own, sipping the drink and savouring the taste. 

After everything, Kojiro deserved something good too.

ꨄ︎

Only when Kojiro arrived at the event did he realise just why Kaoru wanted him there. 

The place was jam-packed, and the first thing he saw as he drove in was a large sign with his name in bold at the top as the main event. And when he got out of the car, most people were muttering Kaoru’s name under their breaths, many even looking at him and recognising him, gaping as he walked past. 

One was even bold enough to approach him with a small microphone, phone in hand as she smiled sweetly up at him. “Morning, sir! Would you mind doing a short interview with me?”

“Uh, yes, sorry,” Kojiro replied, the lady looking stricken at his quick refusal, a little thrown off too, “I’m uh, looking for someone.”

“Sakurayashiki-sensei?” She asked immediately, and Kojiro kind of hated how quickly she knew, doing his best to shake it off. He would be okay, once he found Kaoru. “He’s preparing for his performance later on, he always does before he does events like these.” She explained, somehow knowing more about Kaoru’s work than he did, which left him feeling more bitter than he’d like to admit. “You’ll probably find him backstage at the main area— ask a bodyguard they’ll probably show you the way. But listen, now that you know where he is, I promise this will just be short, a few questions about your relationship with Sakurayashiki-sensei and such.”

“I don’t think that’s—“

“Sorry miss, no interviews,” a familiar voice cut in, Kaoru’s arm wrapping around his own and slightly tugging him backwards, his strength a little shocking as he smiled not-so-sweetly at the interviewer, who seemed only more shocked now than before. “Have a nice day.”

And he didn’t give her a chance to respond, tugging Kojiro away and through the crowd, not seeming to pay attention to every eye and every camera facing them, the muttering and the flashlights and—

“Stop stressing, muscle-brain, your worrying is giving me a headache.” Kaoru whispered to him, leaning in close so he would be the only one to hear, someone snapping a photo of them as he did so. But Kaoru held his arm a little tighter, and whispered something else in his ear as his nails dug a little into his skin, and his golden eyes blinked at him in gentle reassurance, so Kojiro took a deep breath and let himself take it in and move through it. “There you go, not too difficult is it?”

“Do you have to be so condescending with it?”

“Wow, the gorilla knows big words now!” Kaoru shot back with a smirk, and any remaining worries dissipated in his chest. He didn’t notice the girls giggling as he walked past them, he didn’t notice the person recording ten seconds later, and he didn’t notice the person calling out to Kaoru.

He only noticed Kaoru.

Kaoru, who continued to watch him, careful and studious, eyes flickering over his face as he did sometimes.

Kaoru, whose grip wasn’t painful or clingy but reassuring, protective. 

Kaoru, who, despite the crowds, looked comfortable.

Just as he said he would.

They eventually made it to the backstage of the area the lady had mentioned, Kaoru falling into his chair with a groan as Kojiro closed the door behind him, turning to find Kaoru running his hands down his face, already looking exhausted before they’d even started. “Sorry about that, my fans can get a bit—“

“Obsessive? Demanding? Intrusive?”

“I mean I was going to say full-on.” Kaoru scoffed, smiling either way, and Kojiro couldn’t help but laugh back, moving to sit on the supplied desk as Kaoru sat up a little straighter, fetching his brush.

Only then did Kojiro get a proper look at his outfit.

A long, flowy white kimono with pink and green accents, pink ribbon with bows flowing down the front and a green triangular neckline with white flower accents. Large sleeves were made up of pink and green fabric, and there were pearls hanging from the waist. Then his hair, which was half-up half-down, but instead of a ponytail it was braided back, pink flower clips pinned over his head. 

He was stunning. 

“— create the background— are you even listening to me?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah,” Kojiro managed out, looking at the light make-up on Kaoru’s features, soft pink eyeshadow with white eyeliner. “You’re talking about your performance?”

“No,” Kaoru sighed, smiling anyway, “You’re such an idiot, what are you thinking about in that smooth brain of yours?”

“You.”

Kaoru paused.

Kojiro would’ve paused more if it was possible, his heart practically stopping as he watched Kaoru watch him.

“You, uh— you look nice.”

“Nice?”

“You look, uh, pretty, yeah. I mean— like, in a friend way, not a—“

“You’re such an idiot.” Kaoru repeated, giggling as Kojiro scrambled to take a breath, ears burning but not having long flowy hair to cover it, pouting instead. “Come on, let’s go enjoy the event.”

“Wh— don’t you have to practice?” Kojiro asked, following Kaoru out of the door anyway, the man shrugging as he took a hold of Kojiro’s hand, fingers interlocking once more.

A perfect fit, unsurprisingly.

“I never do, I just don’t like the crowds,” Kaoru replied honestly, smirking as he tugged Kojiro towards a stand, homemade street food on display. “But, while you’re here, we might as well enjoy the day instead of hide away.”

And he had a good point. 

So Kojiro ordered some bits of food for each of them and handed over the money before Kaoru could even try to pay, passing over a variety of choco bananas with a small smile, Kaoru accepting them a little reluctantly.

And he was so focused on Kaoru, on watching his every expression and his every reaction, watching his smile slowly grow with every word spoken, each step taken.

Neither of them noticed someone recording as Kaoru said, “Thank you, Kojiro,” just loud enough for passersby to hear, just loud enough for the phone to pick up.

“What for?” Kojiro replied, a little quieter but loud enough for Kaoru to hear over the crowd as he bit into his choco banana, looking over the crowd in front of them as if he was one of them. 

Which was the point, wasn’t it? “For making me feel human again.”

And all Kojiro could reply was, “It was the least I could do for you, Kaoru.”

ꨄ︎

Sia la Luce had only been busier once before.

One of Kojiro’s waitresses had a secret account in which she edited videos of him together to a song; apparently people call them ‘thirst-traps’, and people then flocked to the restaurant from across the country (and, on four occasions, from other countries) to see him in person. Of course he didn’t know the extent of this until the place was bustling and there was a long-ass queue outside to book a table, because she hadn’t seen the need to tell him what she made, but he had to admit the edit did make him look pretty damn hot.

Once again, as Kojiro looked out into the restaurant, he found every table full with a queue out of the door, hardly any regulars in sight. 

“Meisa,” he asked as she walked past, the woman humming as she put down the tray of dirty plates, bowls, and glasses, turning to him with a raised eyebrow, “Did you make a thirst trap of me without my knowledge?”

“What?” She asked, sounding a little guiltier than should be warranted, “No, of course not.”

“Then why is the restaurant so busy?” Kojiro asked, jutting a thumb out to the seating area before getting back to cooking, Meisa taking the fresh plates of food from the shelf. 

“Well, I’d presume it’s to do with that boyfriend of yours.”

“Wh— what boyfriend? I don’t have a—“

“Have you not seen the videos?” Meisa asked, and Kojiro could do nothing but stop what he was doing to look at her, waiting.

Eventually she sighed, shaking her head. “I forget you’re offline.”

“What videos?” Kojiro asked, stepping away from the stove to rest his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow at her in a way that was meant to be threatening but probably wasn’t. Confirmed when she smiled and walked off, promising to show him on her break.

And she did so.

Twenty minutes later she came over with her phone on as Kojiro dried his hands, watching one video of him and Kaoru walking through the crowd, his eyes meeting the camera for a second before looking away. Then there were photos of them walking into the backstage area, stood at the street food stand, stood at other stands.

One specific photo Kojiro hated to admit he loved, of him laughing, loud and bright as Kaoru smiled with a hint of smugness, amazake in hand as he watched him, something in his eyes that Kojiro hadn’t seen before, couldn’t quite define.

Then she showed him another video. 

He saw Kaoru watching him carefully, that same glint in his eye as he smiled, before he said, “Thank you, Kojiro,” and Kojiro immediately thought oh shit. 

What he said afterwards was unintelligible, but the video picked up Kaoru’s, “For making me feel human again.”

Then, some of his words were incoherent, but then Kojiro heard himself say, “—o for you, Kaoru.”

“This one has forty million views,” she explained, moving the phone away and clicking a few things before turning it off and slipping her phone into her back pocket. “Because you used each other’s given names, people don’t do that.”

“And that’s how they found me.”

“Bingo!” 

Kojiro looked back out, to the masses of people chatting and laughing and whispering, and the moment one turned and saw him he immediately hid again, racking his brain for what to do. “I need to call Kaoru.”

“Wh— Chef!”

“Haruko! Take charge, I’m stepping out for a minute!”

He didn’t give them a chance to reply, opening the back door and heading to the alley behind the restaurant, already opening his phone to Kaoru’s contact, which was unsurprisingly his most recent one. 

It took him three rings to pick up. “Kojiro?” He asked in a hushed voice, meaning he was probably in a meeting, “You never call at this time, is everything alright?”

“Do you remember when people started coming to your studio because you were famous, not for your work?” Kojiro asked immediately, Kaoru sighing into the phone, taking a moment to mull over his answer.

“I do,” Kaoru started, but he sounded cautious, as if it wasn’t a topic to be discussed lightly, “I remember after I made the piece that made me blow up, I had floods of people coming in asking for commissions and such— people who I never thought I’d meet begging me to get them in my schedule for a chat. It was overwhelming.”

He paused then, and Kojiro could almost see his face. Scrunched up, contemplative, a little confused.

“Why do you ask?”

“Meisa showed me a video— of us?”

“Ah,” Kaoru immediately replied, which Kojiro shouldn’t have been surprised by. Forty million views was a lot, frankly too many, and Kaoru had to be online for work and such. Kojiro thankfully never had the pressure, but he was starting to second guess himself. “Yeah, they found you huh?”

“Not many Kojiro’s nowadays, I guess, I don’t know,” Kojiro groaned, leaning on the wall and almost sinking down to the floor, resisting only due to the white jacket he was wearing, not wanting to dirty it. “I just don’t know what to do and I thought maybe you could give me some advice?”

“My advice is to take a deep breath and put on a show, but Kojiro— do you want me to come today—?”

“No Kaoru, I know you’re busy—“

“I’ll be there, but I do have a meeting right now so I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, see you later.”

“Bye, love you.”

And he hung up.

At first, Kojiro didn’t notice it.

But as he was walking back through the kitchen, repeating Kaoru’s words in his head — take a deep breath and put on a show — that he realised what Kaoru had said.

Love you.

He promptly walked back out into the alley, ignoring the confused shouts from his chefs. 

He needed a minute.

“And a lasagne for you,” Kojiro finished, smiling as he stood back up, looking between the four girls with a bright grin, hands on his hips, “Can I get you anything else?”

And one of the girls giggled, leaning into her friend’s ear to whisper something, and Kojiro watched as she went bright red, giggling anyway. 

“Can I have a kiss?” She asked, and Kojiro only chuckled, repeating Kaoru’s words to himself.

Take a deep breath and put on a show.

Love you.

“Afraid not.” He sighed, mock upset, and none of the girls looked remotely shocked or upset, if anything they seemed happier, giggling again. 

“So it’s true? You are dating Sakurayashiki-sensei?” One asked, and before Kojiro could reply another spoke.

“I’m surprised you’re still in doubt,” she huffed, leaning her chin on her palm, “We’ve known they were together for months.”

“Oh yeah, was that video from this restaurant?” The girl who’d asked for the kiss queried, turning to Kojiro with curious eyes, and Kojiro took a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill his lungs.

“It was,” Kojiro replied, having no clue what video they were on about but assuming it was the very first one, the time he met Kaoru. 

“And you’ve been dating since before then?” The same girl asked, leaning a little further forward, but Kojiro wasn’t sure where to go from there. 

He wasn’t sure because they weren’t dating, but Kaoru had never denied it. He convinced Kojiro to pretend once, and then seemed to just… not stop. The interviewer asked if his new relationship inspired his work and he implied that it had; he hadn’t told the lady there was no relationship to ask about; he hadn’t corrected the entire internet of their assumptions.

But they weren’t together, and Kojiro didn’t exactly like lying. 

“Guys,” the fourth girl, who hadn’t spoken yet, said suddenly, glancing at Kojiro, flushing a little red before looking at the other girls at the table, pressing her lips together, “Let them keep their privacy, we’ve disrupted it enough coming here, and he’s still getting used to all this.”

Kojiro could’ve thanked the lord in that moment.

Instead he thanked the girl and headed off back to the kitchen, running his hands down his face as the doors swung shut behind him. The kitchen was comfortingly loud, pans sizzling and stoves humming, knives hitting chopping boards as feet padded along the tiled ground.

And a voice, soft and sweet, hands soft but slightly rough from years of wear, nails rubbing soothing circles into his skin.

Then the voice stopped, so Kojiro pulled his arms down and blinked his eyes open, gaze meeting gold. Gold flakes, familiar but looking different under the bright white light of the kitchen. Kojiro was used to seeing him in the soft gold lamplight, or the daylight, but under the white light he still looked gorgeous, this time the only thing helping him was his natural beauty.

And he was still the most gorgeous person Kojiro had ever seen.

Love you.

“Kaoru.” He breathed out, so relieved to be able to fall into his arms, wrapping his own around Kaoru’s waist and resting his chin on Kaoru’s head, the man just shy of being too tall to do so. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d come,” Kaoru reminded him, and Kojiro had honestly forgotten, with the whole love you thing and all. “I— it’s my fault this is happening, so I might as well be here to help you through it— or take some of the attention away from you.” 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Kojiro almost threatened him, holding him a little tighter, “It’s not your fault people are crazy.”

“No, but I know how crazy they are, and I forced you into this position—“

“No you didn’t, Kaoru,” Kojiro urged, pulling back to level him with a frown, “I asked for your number, I wanted you to come back.”

“You didn’t know how well-known I was!”

“And I didn’t care! Still don’t,” Kojiro urged, Kaoru just groaning, mumbling something under his breath in disagreement. Not that Kojiro paid it any attention, removing an arm from Kaoru’s waist to flick his nose, the man gaping across from him, “I just wanted to spend time with you, no matter what that entailed.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you said.” Kojiro giggled, Kaoru huffing but not immediately denying it, rolling his eyes. 

“You misheard. Your monkey brain is too small to comprehend basic vocabulary.”

“Says the robot,” Kojiro rebutted, Kaoru gaping at him, disbelieving, “You have too much information in there that it gets all jumbled up.”

“That’s not how databases work, dickhead!”

“So you admit it? You are a soulless robot?”

“You are so—“

“Can you two stop flirting in the middle of the kitchen?” Meisa asked from where she was stood with some plates, looking between them with a lot of judgement before sighing and leaving, all the chefs and waiters turning to watch them for a single moment before getting back to work, the kitchen bustling once again. Busy nights were always odd, breaks few and far between, so for everyone to take a moment, a breath, just to see what was happening was strange.

And then Kojiro remembered the conversation he’d just had, the conversation he had with Kaoru on the phone, and he pulled away, grabbing Kaoru’s hand and dragging him to the alleyway, opening and closing the door, waiting until the door swung shut to say, “What are we?”

“I— huh?”

“These girls,” Kojiro started, turning to look onto the street, making sure no one was walking past before continuing, looking back at a confused Kaoru, “They asked when we’d been dating since and I didn’t— you’ve never denied it, but I didn’t want to lie and say we’re together—?”

“Lie?” Kaoru immediately asked, stepping back and pulling his hand away, frowning. “What do you mean lie?”

“Wh— we’re not together!”

“We’re not?” 

“No! Not yet!” Kojiro insisted, and that only confused Kaoru further. “Did you think we were?”

“Did you think we weren’t?”

“You never said anything!”

“I told you I loved you, and that didn’t give you any indication?”

“I thought you misspoke or something!”

“You don’t just misspeak that, Koji, you mean it.” Kaoru insisted, looking far too exasperated for a man that had been so calm just minutes prior. “I saved my number on your phone with a heart, we had dates every Sunday— Kojiro, you’ve treated me better than anyone ever has, I don’t think I’ve ever bought anything for you and you’re broke as shit! They can’t even call you a gold digger because you don’t even have a shovel.” His face fell then, something exhausted and worried, leaning into plain sadness. “Did none of that mean anything to you?”

“Kaoru, it meant everything to me,” Kojiro insisted, taking Kaoru’s hand again to squeeze it, smiling easily, “You mean everything to me, I just— I don’t know, I was scared to ask to make it official, because of what that would mean for you.”

“Wh—?” Kaoru tried, just gaping, trying to formulate some words. Not that he found any, judging by the utterly lost look on his face. His lips were slightly parted and slightly chapped from biting them, likely during his meeting because Kojiro knew how much he hated meetings, and all he wanted to do was kiss all of those worries away. 

Which, maybe, he was allowed to do.

Maybe he’d been holding back for nothing. 

“Hey, Kaoru—“

And, instead of telling him to shut up, Kaoru shut him up himself, letting go of Kojiro’s hand to wrap his own around the back of his neck, lifting his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to his lips, just about on his tiptoes to reach. The moment Kojiro realised what was happening he pushed back, pressing his hands into the small of Kaoru’s back and accidentally smiling, Kaoru biting his lip as if telling him to stop.

“Holy shit.” A voice whispered from outside the fence, and both men flinched back, looking over to find one of the girls from the table Kojiro had been serving, vape in one hand and phone held up in the other, lowering to her pocket as the flash turned off, gaping at them. 

And she was off before either of them could say anything.

One glance at Kaoru told him everything he needed to know.

There was too much guilt glittering in his eyes to miss.

“So,” Kojiro started, Kaoru looking back to him, worry now joining the culpability, “When did we start dating?”

And he punched his arm, scoffing before heading back into the kitchen. “You’re such a dick.”

“What?! It’s a genuine question!”

“I hate you, go away.”

“No you don’t!” Kojiro called, Kaoru turning to glare at him but continuing to walk out the doors into the main room, Kojiro following as he chuckled. Unsurprisingly, he sat himself at his usual seat on the bar, giving Kojiro a raised eyebrow as he rolled his eyes. “The usual?”

“Who do you take me for?” He asked with a smirk, motioning to the wine glasses on the shelf, “Large Chenin Blanc.”

“Yes princess.”

When the chatter got louder, neither of them noticed, too focused on each other.

ꨄ︎

To say Kaoru visited the restaurant more would be an understatement. It became routine, for him to pop in whenever he had a free moment or when he had a client to take out for lunch or dinner, and it just felt normal. Even if the restaurant was constantly busier than it used to be.

It was on a Friday that Kaoru sat down and held his hand out, Kojiro just watching him with confusion.

“What?”

“Phone. Now.” Kaoru demanded, waiting until the phone was planted in his hand to pull his hand back, typing in the password Kojiro had only just changed the other week, the password he knew Kaoru couldn’t have seen yet. He tapped away for a while, brows furrowing as he adjusted his glasses, mumbling under his breath. 

“What are you doing?”

“Making you some social media accounts,” Kaoru replied, waving a dismissive hand as Kojiro gaped, immediately trying to swipe his phone back, even as Kaoru leaned further back on his stool, still smirking. “It’s been too long, and I’m getting tired of having to explain things to you.”

“Hey, you chose this life,” Kojiro huffed, Kaoru pausing his typing to level him with an unimpressed frown.

“Don’t remind me.” 

And then he continued tapping away.

It was honestly kind of cute, how easily he navigated it, how he just knew Kojiro wouldn’t be any good at it himself.

“There,” Kaoru announced, placing the phone on the counter and turning it around, pointing to the screen as Kojiro leaned down, squinting at the screen, “TikTok is dangerous, don’t be on it too long, but all the videos you’ll need to see of us will be on here or on twitter.”

“I thought twitter was for, like, saying things.”

“It is,” Kaoru explained, voice carefully composed, “But it’s also a place that fandoms gather and share content.”

“Fandoms?”

“Big online groups of people who like the same thing,” the patience was truly admirable, and Kojiro only found himself smiling, opening twitter to find some boring ass tweets about stocks, and another with an odd looking image. “There is a fandom for me and my work, and now there is a fandom for us.”

“Wait, hold on,” Kojiro started, putting his phone down to look at Kaoru, making sure he knew how baffled he was before saying, “I have fans?”

“Lots, we have a name and everything.”

“What’s our name?”

“Matchablossom.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head as he looked back at the phone, picking it up and typing the word into the search bar, looking at the hundreds of tweets that came up. Immediately he saw a photo, five million likes, with the caption ‘oh. my. fucking. GOD!!!!!’, of them kissing in the alleyway all those weeks ago.

“I hate all the pictures they take— it’s so invasive, we’re given no chances to have a personal life— what are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Kojiro replied with a smirk, leaning back when Kaoru reached out to grab his phone back, cackling to himself as Kaoru glared at him, knowing how to do this at least. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh I’m worrying about it. Don’t encourage their behaviour—“

“I’m not encouraging it,” Kojiro tried, clicking done before nodding to himself, turning his phone off and back on, proud of his work, “I’m just appreciating art.”

“Give that here,” Kaoru grumbled, leaning over the counter and taking the phone back, turning it on and immediately gaping. “Kojiro.”

“What?” He asked with a laugh, watching Kaoru’s face go bright red, continuing to mumble words under his breath, eyes not straying from the screen. “Can I not have the love of my life on my lock screen?”

“The— you can’t just—“

“What, change my wallpaper?”

“No! Call me that so— out of no where.” 

“But you are the love of my life,” Kojiro insisted, hearing some girls giggle from a nearby table, only smiling a little brighter as Kaoru flushed deeper, burying his head in his hands as an attempt to hide it. It didn’t work, of course, not with Kojiro pulling his hands away, leaning in close and kissing the knuckles on his hands, Kaoru glaring at him through his eyelashes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re guilt-tripping me into get something you want,” Kojiro immediately replied, leaning in a little closer to whisper, “It’s not gonna happen baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Kaoru replied as expected, reeling back in disgust as Kojiro cackled again, holding his hands a little tighter, “Do you not have any better names?”

“Well, apparently love of my life isn’t acceptable either.”

“I didn’t say that.” Kaoru wagered, smiling smally again, and all Kojiro wanted to do was kiss him. But he couldn’t, because there were people watching them already, and someone would find a way to spread that around.

Banning photography from Sia la Luce could only do so much, after all.

“Carbonara?” Kojiro asked instead, moving back and letting Kaoru’s hands fall, the man humming in agreement and taking his own phone out. “You know, one of these days you’ll try something new.”

“No need,” Kaoru called back as Kojiro started heading to the kitchen, turning to face him with a doubtful half-smile, “I know what I like.”

And there was a hint to it, some underlying meaning that Kojiro breathed in, smiling a little brighter as he chuckled, Kaoru sitting a little straighter and tucking his hair behind his ears, coughing his nerves out. He was always gorgeous, no matter where he was or what he wore or what mood he was in; Kojiro wasn’t sure it was possible for Kaoru Sakurayashiki to not be pretty.

And he was in love with Kojiro.

“Carbonara coming right up.”

Not for the first time, and hopefully not for the last, Kaoru’s giggles followed Kojiro into the kitchen, and Kojiro knew he had never heard a sound so sweet.