Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn’t know when it really began.

Was it the night Ippo claimed the championship, grinning so bright it left him stunned? Was it the first time he saw him overpower Sendou in sheer strength and willpower? Or maybe it went back further, when Umezawa himself had cornered him behind the school walls for pocket change.

Ippo had always caught his attention. Back then, he seemed meek, helpless, timid—pathetic, really. Easy prey in every sense of the word. He never once fought back. He never raised a fist in return, never shouted, never even glared; he just stammered shaky "no" s and weak protests, his voice so faint it seemed afraid to reach another decibel, as if louder resistance would only earn him more bruises.

But somewhere along the way, that changed.

The timidity lingered in his gaze, but behind it burned something new. A spark. A fire. His frame was thicker now, his body hardened beyond what Umezawa remembered. Thinking back, he realized Ippo had always taken their blows with a resilience that didn’t quite make sense.

And now, he couldn’t look away.

Yeah… That’s when it probably all started.

Umezawa lay back on his futon, eyes tracing the wooden grain of the ceiling of his apartment, following each curve until it met the corner where a patch of cobwebs had formed. He made a half-hearted note to clean it later, then let his thoughts wander down memory lane.

Ippo had changed. More than once, Umezawa had backed out of calling him after school. To his friends, he gave excuses, unwilling to look like he’d lost his nerve like a wuss—but the truth was simpler. That fire in Ippo’s eyes was growing, burning hotter every time, and Umezawa couldn’t bring himself to confront it.

And yet, he was still Ippo. Timid. Shy. So shaky on his legs that a blow of the wind would knock him off his feet. But something about him was different. His steps carried purpose now, each one weighted with intent. The air around him felt charged, stretched thin like it might snap if touched—an aura that only made sense once Ippo’s boxing license was in Umezawa’s hands.

He wasn’t training for payback or some petty revenge against them. Ippo loved boxing. And Umezawa had never felt smaller than when he realized the truth of that.

What seemed like a dream quickly turned into reality. Match after match, they saw, cheered, and roared Ippo’s name as another star was added into his streak of KOs. Umezawa bragged about him to his other friends, of course. They knew each other, right? They were basically friends.

But his chest ached with every win.

Each time, he wanted nothing more than to drag Ippo into some quiet corner and say the words he’d swallowed for years. Yet shame, pride, and envy tangled too tightly inside him to unravel. The timid Ippo he had once written off as a wimp was blazing forward; growing into a star at such a pace that he could only watch as he slipped further from reach. Toward a future he wanted, opposite of Umezawa himself, only following where life took him.

So he settled for cheering, loud enough to drown out the ache.

He sat up, running his thumb over the photograph in his hand. A shot of Ippo he took. He still remembered the flimsy excuse he gave back then—for “reference.” No ulterior motive, he’d claimed. His lips curved despite himself as he glanced at the sleeping Ippo curled against him in the futon. The memory of the moment before that photo was taken pulled at him, before it all truly began.

Here he stood in the middle of a windstorm, dressed more formally than he had been for his first job interview. And yet, despite the chill biting through the fabric, all he could focus on was the face before him—the same one that once shrank away in fear, now opening the door to him with quiet warmth. The sight stirred something restless in his chest.

He never once thought of confessing his dreams to this man, but here he was.

The work was hard. Difficult. He almost quit. His body ached the moment he opened his eyes at the start of a new morning, yet Ippo did it effortlessly. It was amazing, admirable. Yes… It started with admiration at first. And perhaps to atone for his past actions.

“Just leave it to me, Ippo, and do your roadwork.” He hung two ice boxes on his shoulders. It was getting easier now; maybe he could carry three at a time soon. “You’ve got that match coming up.”

As expected, Ippo was quiet, leaving with a thankful smile. That’s right, he was doing this for a friend. As a way to support him. As a form of forgiveness, even if his mouth could never utter the words.

But… the feelings inside him had begun to twist into something unrecognizable. Admiration lingered, as did the weight of old guilt, yet beneath it all, something else was quietly taking root. His chest grew tight whenever Ippo greeted him with that easy smile in the morning. His throat constricted watching Ippo’s fists rise high after another hard-earned victory in the ring.

And then it was the smaller moments that affected him most. Dinner with Ippo and Captain, their voices filling the room with laughter like usual. Yet his eyes were drawn towards something else: the way Ippo saved his favorite side dish for last, careful to leave just enough rice to pair it with.

Cute.

He froze at the word echoing in his mind. Cute? Ippo was fierce, admirable, strong—still timid in ways, sure—but cute? The thought didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did. Maybe it always had. Ippo always looked different than anyone else in his eyes; he just hadn’t known how to name it.

His sudden silence was interrupted by Ippo’s mother.

“Umezawa, are you okay? Maybe you should take an early rest tonight.”

Umezawa laughed it off. “It’s nothing, really! I just stayed up late thinking up a plot for my one-shot.”

“Oh yeah, how are you doing with your manga?” asked Ippo. His eyes met Umezawa’s in earnest. It was difficult to look back. He always wondered if Ippo had forgiven him for his actions. Or was he only being kind to keep him here and secure his boxing career? No, he wouldn’t.

“Bah, so so. I think I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, though.”

Hiroko’s eyes bore into him. She knew he wasn’t telling the full truth.

“Really? I hope you can work it out soon!”

Umezawa grew sheepish, rubbing his nape. “Yeah, can’t be falling behind when you’re out there giving your all.”

Ippo’s mother sighed. “I just wish he’d come back less bruised.”

The table erupted into laughter and giggles, and Umezawa let himself be carried away with it. There was no need to pay his thoughts any mind. He admired Ippo and nothing more.

“Huff, ugh…”

It was their third lap up the hill—or rather, Ippo’s third lap. He was just dead weight on the back of the scooter, serving as extra weight. Strange kind of help, being asked to play the role of a burden. Still, when he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Ippo, drenched in sweat, every muscle straining and gleaming under the sun, the thought slipped away. Insane that he pushed himself through this every single day. Well… He wasn’t about to complain about the prime eye candy gracing his sight.

“You sure you don’t need a break?”

Ippo huffed, inhaling deeply before talking. “No.”

A predictable answer, but it was worth a shot anyway. Still, he wanted to do something. It’d beat just sitting here looking like a dumbass.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He shook his head, managing the faintest smile through his labored breaths. “Just you being here is enough.”

A shiver ran up Umezawa’s spine. Out of context, those words would have been everything he’d ever wanted to hear.

“Oh, tell me about your manga ideas.”

“Really?” Umezawa perked up. “I won’t bother you just by talking your ears off, won’t I?”

Another shake of Ippo’s head, and then he started talking. He nodded, chuckled, even laughed at some of Umezawa’s ideas—not gag manga material, but hearing that laugh was reward enough. Maybe it cost him some stamina during training, but Ippo never complained. If anything, he looked… happy.

Roadwork came next, and while Ippo’s focus sharpened, he still made a point of glancing his way between dashes, catching his breath while listening to Umezawa. Part of him wondered if Ippo was just humoring him, being kind so he wouldn’t feel like dead weight after asking him for help.

They finally stopped at a small park, tucked away and quiet. Umezawa fed a few coins into the vending machine and came back with two cold cans. Without a word, he tossed one toward Ippo, who caught it easily, his palm slick with sweat. Umezawa sat back on his scooter, cracking his own open, pretending the fizz in his chest came from the carbonation and not from watching Ippo tip his head back, throat moving as he drank.

“Man, there’s still more after this?”

Ippo lowered his can, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah.”

“Sheesh, you boxers are insane. I guess you have to be to willingly walk into the ring and get punched in the face.”

“I guess so.” He took a deep breath, shielding his eye from the blinding sun. “By the way, I think I like your fishing idea the most.”

“Huh?”

“I think I like it even more than the one about my boxing career,” Ippo finished with that shy, self-deprecating laugh he usually had.

“Oh, hah, yeah. I guess my hands-on experience with it would help a lot.”

“Exactly!”

Umezawa snorted, but it came out softer than he meant. He took a long sip to hide the way his chest tightened. Ippo had been intently listening from the start. Damn it. Stop being so charming.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

These thoughts had lingered far longer than he’d ever cared to admit. Ippo was beautiful in his own way. Quiet, adorable—almost unbearably so—even though his fists could now break skulls with ease. Yet beneath that strength, he remained unchanged. Still Ippo.

And he was falling for that damn guy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Seriously?!” Umezawa rambled into his futon to no one in his empty apartment, his draft left untouched on the desk.

He’s always known his interest in men long since high school; it was part of the reason why he acted out then. He tried so hard to appear tough and took it out on others—no one could ever know. He realized how wrong it was now, of course, but he couldn’t undo his actions. And now cowardice overtook him as his apology for Ippo stayed indefinitely stuck in his throat.

“How ironic…” he sighed. Finally, he stood up and sauntered to his desk with shallow steps. He picked up his pen and drew nothing in particular on the blank page. “Admiration? What a lie.”

No… He truly thought Ippo was amazing. He was pathetic compared to the man. He’d already accepted to never act on this feeling. It was already a miracle to be welcomed as a friend, but as a lover? And a fellow man? He would need twice the amount of luck in his life to even stand a chance.

Umezawa blinked, realizing what he had drawn. A new design for boxing shorts. Ippo’s. It was only a rough sketch, but he could already see room for improvement. He groaned, resting his head atop his arms.

“I’m hopeless.”

They had a long boat trip today. Captain was steering the ship, and Ippo was coming along, taking it easy after a match. The boat rocked, and Umezawa put out his arms to balance himself while Ippo kept his balance easily, enjoying the view of the sea. Briefly, he fantasized about losing his footing and falling on top of Ippo to feel that toned body for even a brief moment, but he quickly washed the sinful thought away.

“You’re getting better at this,” said Ippo.

Shit. Did he notice the staring?

“Ah, no, I still fall from time to time.” Umezawa tapped the boat with his foot in frustration. “One second I think I got it, then bam, I'm on my ass the next.”

Ippo let out a small laugh. “Don’t worry, it takes some time before you get used to it.”

“No kidding.”

Umezawa adjusted his cap, blocking out the sunlight before it could blind his eyes any further. The fact Ippo had done this ever since he was young still surprised him. No wonder he got as strong as he did. But it made him wonder why he had never fought back whenever they picked on him. Countless questions he wanted to ask, but none he ever could.

He grit his teeth as shame washed over him. It was pathetic. Ippo had accepted him, yet here he was agonizing over it all as the former bully.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. They docked on the shore in the evening. Ippo stood at the ready, countless boxes filled with ice and fish hanging onto his frame. Umezawa couldn’t even begin to imagine how much it weighed as he carried two with all the strength he could muster. Captain would be preparing dinner soon, then they could happily discuss today’s catch.

The boat shook, its docking rougher than usual.

“Shit, shit.” Umezawa felt himself losing balance. Quickly, he dropped the boxes he carried onto the boat. “Ippo, watch out!”

“Wha—?!”

Too late. Boxes fell with heavy thuds as he crashed onto Ippo’s back. Some plummeted overboard alongside them.

SPLASH

It was cold. So cold.

Umezawa resurfaced with a gasp. Shock overtook him from the sudden change in temperature. “I-Ippo, you okay? Where are you?” He spun in the dark water, arms flailing to stay afloat. His clothes clung heavy against his body, dragging him down.

A splash nearby. “I’m fine!” Ippo’s head broke the surface, water running down his face. He swam closer, shivering like a madman.

Relief hit Umezawa. He tried to laugh through his chattering teeth. “Goddamn it, you scared me.”

“You’re the one who fell on me!” Ippo shouted back, lacking any real bite behind it.

They were so close they could almost feel the other’s breaths, fast and shaky. Umezawa’s heart pounded, not entirely from the cold. For a second, he forgot about the others yelling above, about the boxes lost to the sea. All he could think of was how close their faces were under the moonlight.

“Umezawa.” Ippo’s voice snapped him back to reality. “L-let’s gather the boxes quickly.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah!”

The other fishermen on board helped gather the scattered catch on board while they both saved what they could of the ones in the water. They were about to investigate the damage before Hiroko dropped a dry towel over each of their heads, ushering them inside.

So here they were, drying themselves off before the cold could overtake their body (not that they weren’t already shivering beyond mad).

“I think this will take way longer until I’m used to being on that damn boat.”

Ippo laughed nervously, rubbing his hair with the towel. “Yeah, I remember falling from it multiple times. Mom scolded me for staying so close to the edge.”

Umezawa chortled. “I can totally see that.”

By now, he was mostly dry, save for his damp clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He groaned at the thought of walking back to his apartment, the night wind cutting extra sharp and cold thanks to the state of his clothes. But the thought vanished the moment he caught sight of what waited behind him.

Ippo, standing there in nothing but boxers.

Umezawa swallowed hard, eyes drinking in the sight, desperate to burn it into memory. Ippo was carved muscle from back to chest, a body honed past anything he’d ever seen. Not that it was new—he’d seen Ippo shirtless plenty of times, the whole world had, in the ring under bright lights.

But this was different. Intimate. Just the two of them. No crowds. No noise. Just Ippo in his home, damp hair stuck onto his forehead, and Umezawa’s heart racing harder than when he watched Ippo’s matches.

Ippo strolled over with a basket of his damp clothes balanced in his arms, presumably for the laundry. He moved closer, casual, closing the space between them a little too quickly to his liking. “Umezawa, you can take the bath before me.”

It took him a moment to process Ippo’s words. “Huh? O–Oh, yeah! I’ll make it quick. Wouldn’t want you shivering out here too long, heh.”

“Appreciate it.” Ippo’s reply was simple, but his eyes kept skirting away, refusing to meet Umezawa’s for reasons unsaid.

Umezawa risked one last glance at Ippo’s body before hurrying to the bath, praying the heat in his face (and lower) wasn’t too obvious. God, what he wouldn’t give to trace those muscles with his own hands. But that was a fantasy, nothing more.

Ippo didn’t see him that way. He never would. The thought of it—two men, him and Ippo—would probably disgust him. Maybe enough to end what they already had. And that terrified Umezawa more than anything. He’d seen it before; jokes that turned cruel, whispers that cut deeper than fists. He was one of them, causing that same misery to others. Ippo’s gym mates didn’t exactly welcome homos with open arms, either.

So he swallowed it down: the want, the ache, the shame. So be it. He had no choice, because the alternative was losing their friendship altogether.

His baths were always quick, but tonight he rushed through, finishing in under three minutes. When he stepped out, fresh clothes were waiting on the table outside. Beside them stood Ippo—still damp, a towel slung low around his waist, oblivious to the storm he’d left raging in Umezawa’s chest.

“I didn’t see you bring any extra clothes, so you can wear mine for the time being.”

Ippo’s clothes!

“O-oh, thanks, man!” He snatched the clothes and all but bolted into Ippo’s room to change, silently thanking the gods above.

The clothes were simple: a loose shirt and pants, probably what Ippo usually wore to bed. They fit him better than expected, and stupid as it was, the thought alone sent a thrill through him. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from stealing a quick sniff of the shirt. Not that he was some creepy stalker—at least, he swore he wasn’t.

The door slid open.

Umezawa’s heart leapt to his throat. Standing there was Captain, an extra futon cradled in her arms.

“C-Captain! Thanks for lending the bath.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. You’ve helped us plenty already.”

She walked inside and laid it down on the tatami.

“Uh, Captain. Are you gonna sleep with Ippo?”

Her movement paused for a moment before she broke into a fit of giggles. Yet his question was left unanswered.

“W-What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. Oh, you boys are so silly sometimes.”

Umezawa tilted his head. “Huh??”

Ippo emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him, looking fresh (and unfairly handsome) after the bath. “Oh, Umezawa, you’re staying the night?”

Huh?

Hiroko hummed. “It’s getting late, and I’m sure you’re tired after today. Especially after that fall.”

“I’m fine, really, I swear!”

He was a grown man. The prospect of spending the night in the same room with his friend shouldn’t mortify him.

“Even if you say so, I insist.” She stood, letting out a satisfied huff. “I’ll prepare you boys breakfast later, so don’t worry about anything. Goodnight.”

She left before a word could escape Umezawa’s mouth. She had the upper hand. He knelt, defeated, the gears in his head already running a mile a minute, conjuring potential fantasies of tonight.

“Um, Umezawa, are you okay?” Ippo crouched in front of him, meeting on the same eye level. “Maybe mom’s right. You look tired.”

He sighed, avoiding eye contact with the very man who was unknowingly the cause of his distress. “Yeah… Let’s just sleep. Goodnight.”

And so they lay side by side, neither of them successful in their attempt to sleep. He didn't know why Ippo couldn’t, but his own heart was too busy trying to claw its way out of his chest to allow him a moment of rest. He was curious and wanted to turn onto his side to look at Ippo, yet afraid to meet those eyes staring back.

What is he, some teenager trying to talk to their crush?!

“Hey, Umezawa.”

“...Yeah?” Finally, he opened his eyes and turned to his side. Ippo was staring at the ceiling.

“Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For coming here.” Ippo’s smile curved up into a wry smile. “If you hadn’t, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I probably would’ve quit boxing.”

“Oh…”

I should be the one thanking you, he wanted to say, but couldn’t bring himself to let it out.

“Like I said, friends oughta help each other out, yeah?”

Ippo chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I’m still not used to it.”

“What, asking for help?”

“Having friends.”

The words shot right through Umezawa’s heart. Immediately, he wanted to exit the futon and bow. To ask for forgiveness. But…

“So thanks. For being one.”

A friend… All this time, he never truly knew what to label their relationship. Friends? Co-workers? Acquaintances? Bully and bullied?

Working for Captain had made him truly realize the error of his ways. Ippo had a loving mother, working her damn hardest to support them both, to support his dream of boxing, even if she didn’t truly understand it.

Was he afraid Ippo would reject him? Was he worried his apology would come too late? That it wouldn’t be genuine and only serve to ease his guilt? What would these simple two words of ‘I’m sorry’ truly accomplish anyway?

Umezawa’s mouth moved before he could truly ready himself.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren't for you, you know.”

Apologize.

“What do you mean?”

Apologize.

“I’ve told you before, but seeing you chase your dreams made me want to chase mine. A-and it made me realize something.”

Apologize!

Ippo had turned to his side, intently listening, eyes locked into Umezawa’s. Suddenly, he felt his cheeks heating up. He tried keeping eye contact as best as he could.

“S-So…”

Say sorry!

“So, you know, you r-really don’t have to thank me or anything. We’re pretty much even.”

Ippo smiled, and that only made it harder to look at him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t say it, can I?”

“H-heh, I guess not.”

And so they drifted to sleep as the lump in Umezawa’s throat grew bigger in size.

It was Ippo's first time at Umezawa’s apartment.

He looked around in awe like a child’s first time in an amusement park. His steps stopped before the desk. An unfinished page rested atop it amidst a pile of crumpled-up papers.

Umezawa had invited him over after finishing his daily training, seeing as they were close to his place. If anything, it was a nice time to unwind (ignoring the little cries of his perverted mind to pounce on the man he’s been lusting over).

Curious, Ippo opened one of the crumpled papers. It was a failed page, similar to the one on the desk, still a work in progress. He opened another and realized they were all attempts at the page.

All the while, Umezawa watched silently as he served them both tea.

“Yeah, I’m having a hard time with that one.”

“Oh, sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

“Psh, chill. It’s fine. You’d be the first to read it when it’s finished anyway; remember our promise?”

A look of realization dawned on Ippo’s features. He lowered his head, rubbing the back of his head as he muttered, “You’re right.”

“God, you’re the champion, and you still act like this. Chin up, man.”

Ippo smiled, awkward as he sat across Umezawa at the coffee table. “It still feels weird having people call me that.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re not acting the part! Puff out your chest in pride! And sit straighter! This is why you get pick—”

Umezawa grew silent. The same self-deprecating smile was back on Ippo’s face, and he wished to wipe it off this instant.

“I know.”

Umezawa bit his lips. He’s done it now.

“Umezawa, you’re so kind, looking out for me even now.”

Stop it. Don’t look at me with that smile.

“I’m not.”

“Huh?”

“I’m just someone pathetic that begged at your doorstep for a job ‘cause I couldn’t keep mine.”

“You told me it was to chase your dream!”

“And I haven’t.”

“I’m sure it takes time! I didn’t reach this title in just a couple of months.”

“Stop.” Umezawa hid his face behind his two hands in shame. “This shouldn’t be about me.”

“What—what do you mean? What’re you doing?”

“Something I should’ve done ages ago.”

With that, Umezawa raised from his seat and got on his knees. This was it. The time. He was about to plant his forehead on the floor before a hand stopped him by the shoulder.

“No,” Ippo muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to.”

“I need to.”

“I already understand; it’s in the past.”

“But I need to say it.”

Ippo’s hand faltered. There was a moment of silence before he sat back down right in front of Umezawa. “Then at least lift your head. Look into my eyes.”

Umezawa swallowed nervously. He raised his head and was met with a determined glare. It almost seemed as if Ippo was as nervous, if not more, than he was. His mouth trembled as he struggled to form his words. “I-Ippo, after all these years, I…”

A pause. Ippo only nodded, a wordless gesture for him to continue in fear words would fail him.

“I’ve been wanting to say this all this time. After seeing your life with Captain, when we graduated—hell, when you were starting your boxing career in high school, I—” he choked on his words, but Ippo’s eyes bore into his very soul as he stared back, and he couldn’t back down now, “I’m sorry.”

There.

It’s out.

It’s done.

“I’ve always admired you.” His mouth kept running despite his inner protest. “Pathetic, isn’t it? I spent all of high school tearing you down, only to now chase after you. I don’t even have the right.”

What am I saying? I already apologized.

Sweat slid down Umezawa’s temple. His hands fidgeted in his lap, restless, unsure. His throat tightened; breath grew shallow. “All this time, I didn’t know how to label our relationship. But when you said I was your friend, I—I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

What’re you doing spilling out your feelings like this? This isn’t about you!

“It made me so happy, but it’s like I was lying to you the whole time. You don’t deserve a friendship like that. So I had to—I want to. From the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry.” Their eyes had never broken, not once. The weight of it pressed down until he finally faltered, glancing away at last. “So, uh, erm…” His words stumbled, useless. “I don't know why I said all that. It’s okay if you don’t accept this messy apology, I’m sorr—”

“Thank you.”

Umezawa looked back up in shock, wiping the tears he didn't realize were welling up with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Damn it, why am I the one crying?

Ippo was in the same state, tears threatening to break at the corner of his eyes. “I’ve already forgiven you since back then, you know? You’ve always supported me and mom. You allowed me to continue my boxing career—but thank you.”

“I… see,” Umezawa breathed, the words trembling as they left him. He didn’t know what else to say. Thank you? Another apology? None of it felt right. Ippo, too, had no answer, and so they stayed as they were, sniffling quietly, tears slipping free without shame.

After a moment, Umezawa rose and fetched the box of tissues from his desk. He held it out to Ippo, almost shy in the gesture, and Ippo accepted without a word. It was clumsy, but it was something.

The tears slowed, their breathing steadied. They sat together in silence, the warmth gone from their tea but not from the room. Another minute passed gently before Umezawa, at last, spoke again.

“I, uh, didn’t plan to invite you for this,” he said, voice hoarse.

Ippo chuckled. “I’m not surprised."

“So… We’re good?”

“We’re good.”

Umezawa breathed a long sigh of relief, plopping down on his back on the floor. Right then and there, he almost, almost, uttered the words ‘Also, I love you’. The emotional release had affected him, it seemed. “You should punch me as payback at least.”

“No, this is more than enough.”

He should be elated hearing those words, but instead it annoyed him. Not at Ippo, but himself. It didn't feel right to get away unscathed after all those years, but he knew Ippo wouldn't take it out on him. He was just that kind of guy; the reason he fell for him in the first place. Unsure where to direct these feelings, Umezawa reached out to the futon beside him, grabbing the pillow then throwing it at Ippo, eliciting a surprise yelp as it hit his face.

“What was that for?!”

“Stop being so sweet, damn it!”

“S-sweet?!”

“Hit me back!”

Ippo pursed his lips. He was clearly conflicted. Damn him and his good-natured self. “Fine, you asked for it.”

Umezawa sat back up and braced himself. He shut his eyes, expecting a punch, or even a slap, but was met with the sensation of something soft hitting his head. Ippo had thrown the pillow back. “Really?”

“You did it first! A-and you didn’t specify what kind of hittin—” The pillow smacked against his face, muffling his last few words.

The room that seconds ago was filled with tears, weighted with heavy emotions, was now filled with cheerful laughter, loose from all the baggage it carried before. The fight evolved, now involving the futon itself as Ippo effortlessly picked it up and smothered Umezawa to the floor.

BAM BAM BAM

“Quiet down in there!”

Heavy blows against the wall next door halted their movement. Umezawa pressed a finger against his lips while Ippo mouthed a silent ‘sorry.’ Right, he’d almost forgotten they were in his apartment. But the complaint was relatively minor compared to the relief in his heart.

“Did something happen between you two? I know you were friends, but you became so close.”

“Hm?” Ippo tilted his head, cheeks full of rice.

Umezawa raised a brow. “I thought we’ve been acting the same.”

Hiroko leaned her chin on her hand. “Maybe Ippo’s the same, but you’ve definitely changed.”

“Me?” He pointed a finger at himself.

“There’s always this underlying tension whenever you talk to us. Like you’re holding back something.” She smiled so brightly it was almost blinding. “But it seems you’ve finally gotten it off your shoulders, huh?”

Umezawa returned the smile with his own, glancing at Ippo. “Yes. I did.”

Of course, he still owed Captain a proper apology. That could wait. For now, just being here—next to Ippo—felt like enough.

“So, anyway, the main character would pull out his first big catch. And right when the head of the fish comes out of the water, that’s where I’ll end the chapter.”

“What? But that’s such a tease to the readers!” Ippo nearly slammed his can of light beer on the coffee table.

Umezawa smirked, holding back a sinister laugh. “It’s called a cliffhanger for a reason. You really should read more manga.”

He slumped his shoulders in defeat, fueling Umezawa’s laughter even more.

Ippo’s visit to his apartment has been growing more frequent; he’s even asked to visit just to spend time with him. He couldn’t wish for anything more. This was the best thing he could ever get, and nothing more.

But oh, how he longed for it.

“Oh, gotta use the restroom real quick.”

Umezawa stood and made his way to the bathroom with barely contained spring in his steps. He hoped these days would continue as long as they could. Of course, the ache in his heart grew larger and larger the more time they spent together, but it was better than never having him in his life.

As he flushed the toilet, his mind bugged him. It felt as if he was forgetting something. Oh well, he’d remember it if it was important. Humming a chirpy tune, he washed his hands. He saw Ippo bending over his desk as he opened the bathroom door. He looked completely engrossed.

Must be looking at the new page.

Ippo’s mouth was agape. He secretly hoped that was a stare of amazement; it was a page worth being proud of. As he stepped closer, he followed Ippo’s gaze. It wasn’t on the page, but something beside it. Then he noticed the box of tissues next.

And the bottle of lube.

His mind clicked.

“DON’T LOOK—!”

Ippo looked back at him, mortified. He was midway through turning to the next page of his magazine. Umezawa could see the page turned towards him, held upright by Ippo’s hand that gripped it so tightly it could easily rip it to shreds. A man. Naked. Posed in such a seductive way that he couldn’t even excuse it as an anatomy study book.

Silence. Neither could gather the courage to utter even a word.

This is it. This is where I die. Why did it have to be him? He’ll never meet with me again.

I’ll be fired. I’ll have to find a new job.

He’ll hate me.

Our friendship’s over.

I’ll be shunned for life.

It was Ippo who made the first move. Slowly, he closed the magazine. He couldn’t even meet Umezawa in the eyes. Awkwardly, he tried a laugh, only to be met with silence. He made a gesture to look at his wristwatch as if to say, ‘Oh, look at the time!’

Without a word, Ippo packed his things. Looking back one last time, he nodded, what Umezawa could only assume was his one last polite gesture before leaving.

He slumped to his knees as the door clicked shut. He pressed his palms into the floor, nails biting into the wood. His mind was running laps.

Should I run after him? Apologize? Pretend it never happened?

No. He already saw it. He knew.

His chest felt so tight it was almost difficult to breathe. Minutes passed—or maybe hours, Umezawa couldn’t tell. All he could see was Ippo’s face, pale as chalk, eyes never leaving the floor as he left. That fake little laugh. That stupid wristwatch gesture.

Umezawa smacked his forehead with both hands.

“IDIOT! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

But deep down, he knew why. It was clear on Ippo’s face. He could see everything: disgust, betrayal, fear. The scene endlessly replayed in his head as if to rub salt on the wound. What should he do now?

The next morning, he was called to work by Captain.

He had assumed he’d be fired right away. No way would Ippo let someone like him be near him or his mother.

She greeted him like normal, and they began to work right away. Ippo wasn't there, beginning his roadwork earlier than usual.

Maybe he didn’t tell her yet.

At the very least, he didn’t have to deal with Ippo for now.

The boat departed, and he worked like usual, as if distancing himself from those distracting thoughts onshore. More than once, he thought of jumping off the boat and disappearing right then and there to avoid meeting Ippo before they docked. It’d be easier.

But he couldn’t.

They docked, and Captain immediately invited him in for dinner.

“N-no, it’s okay. I have dinner prepared at home.”

Hiroko sighed. “If you’re gonna lie, at least try.”

Umezawa gulped. “But—”

“I won’t hear any excuses. You seemed distracted all day, and now you’re refusing dinner?”

He resigned himself to his fate.

Ippo was inside. He almost choked on his water when he saw Umezawa walk in.

“Here, I made your favorite,” she said, cheery as ever. She sat at the table, the smile never leaving her. “Fill yourself up.”

Umezawa nodded, making sure to sit across the table from Ippo and not beside him.

They ate in silence. He couldn’t think up any conversation starters without awkwardly leaving Ippo out of it while he was right there. Hiroko tried, but any attempt at conversation inevitably returned to that same, deafening silence.

“Did today tire you two out so much? You’re so quiet.”

“It was really hot,” said Umezawa with a shaky smile.

Ippo tried to laugh it off. “I guess my spar today was pretty tough.”

Hiroko let out a frustrated huff. She looked over the two men, then resigned herself to a quiet dinner. Inside, Umezawa thanked Captain for not pushing any farther and let him return home without any fuss.

“Thanks, Captain. It was delicious as always.” Umezawa adjusted his cap and zipped up his jacket. Hiruko was seeing him off while Ippo stayed inside.

“I swear, something is up with that boy. He’s usually all eager to send you off.”

“Heh, yeah…”

She eyed Umezawa. It was no sharp, scrutinizing gaze or anything calculating. It was the warm stare of a worried mother; it felt as if she could see through his very being and straight to his soul.

“Did something happen between you and Ippo? You didn’t say anything to each other once—not even when I left for the bathroom.”

Shit, she was listening?

“I-It’s like you said!” He averted his gaze, knowing that it only made him look more suspicious. But he didn’t know what else to do. “I think I pushed myself too hard during work today, and Ippo has a match coming up, so, uh, yeah.”

He bowed his head deeper than usual. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll see you again tomorrow.” He bounced off before she could ask any other questions. He knew it was out of worry—but it was something he could never discuss with her before he settled things between him and Ippo first.

If…

If Ippo would even let him.

The next day, it wasn’t Captain who called, but Ippo.

“U-Umezawa?”

Even hearing Ippo’s voice made him all nervous. “Yeah?”

“Are you free today?”

“...What?” He coughed into his fist. “I think so, why?”

“Can we meet?”

“What about work?” He heard a sigh from the other side as soon as he asked the question.

“Mom told us to take a break.”

“Oh…” He could already guess where this was going. Releasing a sigh of his own, he steeled himself for the talk to come. “Alright, we can meet at eleven. How about the park?”

‘Cause my heart can’t take being in my apartment alone with you right now.

“A-alright. That works. See you then.”

CLICK.

Umezawa leaned back on the wall. “What am I going to do?”

He dressed up and drove his car to the park. Truthfully, he’d readied himself for the worst: Losing his job, friendship, and Captain’s trust. So when he saw Ippo sitting alone at the bench in the park, nervousness had left him completely. It’d be better to rip off the band-aid as quickly as possible.

He parked his car and jogged over before sitting across from Ippo.

His legs were shaking. And after all that talk about readying himself. Pathetic.

“Umezawa, can we just continue like how we were before?”

“H-huh?”

Already, the goodbye script in his mind had been thrown into the shredder.

Ippo’s gaze was locked onto his fists on the table. “Mom was worried if we fought; she told me to use this time to make up.”

“Ah, okay.” Umezawa didn’t attempt any eye contact either, choosing to focus on a random black spot on the table by the side of his hand. “So it’s for Captain.”

“N-not just my mom!” Ippo raised his voice. “I want it too.”

Umezawa smiled wryly. “Are you just being nice to me again?”

“What? No.” Ippo raised his head for the first time. “I was just… shocked, really. I didn’t think you were, well…”

“Into dudes?”

Ippo grimaced. “Yeah. I just didn’t know how to react.”

Suddenly, Umezawa couldn’t help but hold out hope. Maybe this wasn’t the end after all. “So you don’t hate me? You don’t think I’m disgusting?”

“NO!” Ippo stood, slamming his hands on the table. Passersby looked on in worry. Quickly, he sat back down. “I’d never think of you that way. You’re still the same Umezawa I know in my eyes.”

“Really?”

For the first time today, Umezawa met Ippo’s gaze.

“Really.” Ippo rubbed his nape. “To be honest, I always thought it was weird… but not bad like how everyone put it.”

Umezawa took a deep breath. Okay, don’t lose your cool here, man.

“Then what if I told you I have something else to confess?”

Ippo blinked. “Um, it’s fine. I think.”

“I like you.”

It almost surprised him how easily it came out. Perhaps because Ippo didn’t think he was an utterly disgusting being. Or perhaps because he was already ready to hear the worst that even a confession couldn’t compare to. Regret and relief filled him at the same time as seconds ticked by.

Ippo was stunned. Silently, he pointed at himself, and Umezawa nodded.

Seconds. Minutes. Maybe even an hour passed, Umezawa didn’t know, before Ippo uttered his next words.

“I’m flattered,” he whispered, cheeks and neck beyond pink. “But… I need some time to think about this.”

“Right,” said Umezawa, his voice on the edge of trembling. “Of course.”

He never even considered having his feelings reciprocated as a possibility. Try as he might, hope and expectation rose within him. How could they not? But for now, he’d have to wait.

Weeks passed. He continued to work at Ippo’s family business. They still talked like normal. There still existed an underlying tension and awkwardness, but it didn’t keep them apart. He’d wait however long he needed to before Ippo was ready to give an answer, be it a rejection or not.

Then came the time when Ippo knocked on his apartment door one random night.

“I always had an inkling, you know.”

“Whoa, hold on, you haven’t even come in yet.”

“O-oh, sorry,” Ippo finished with an awkward chuckle. They quickly sat down.

“Seeing as you’re already eager to talk, I won’t waste any time with tea or whatever. Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Ippo paused, regathering his thoughts. “What I meant to say was… I might be the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know Miyata, right?” His question answered by a nod, he continued. “I always looked at him… differently. The others kept making fun of me, so I just brushed the feelings away.

“And I was scared to face it, so I just ran away from it, only seeing him as my goal, my rival.”

Umezawa listened intently. Only when Ippo fell silent did he speak up. “So you’re saying you’re also attracted to men?”

Ippo clenched his fists. “I think so.”

“What about that girl you always hang out with?”

“You mean Kumi?” Ippo bit his lips. “Yeah, she… I always thought she was cute. The thought never changed.”

Umezawa hummed acknowledgement. “I think this is called being bisexual?”

“Bisexual?”

“It’s when you’re attracted to dudes and girls.”

Ippo scratched the back of his head, scrunching his nose. “I guess so. I never thought of that possibility.”

“You still attracted to boobs? Want to feel ‘em up?”

A deep blush coloured his face at the blunt question but he nodded anyway.

“So, bi-curious. I think. When you’re curious about your attraction to both.”

“Shouldn’t it be homo-curious then because I’m only unsure about guys?”

“Yeah, but you’re still attracted to girls so… Man, I'm no expert at this kinda thing! I only read about it in magazines.”

“You’re still more familiar with it than I am," he said with a chuckle. “It feels almost surreal having this conversation with you, Umezawa.”

As if releasing a breath he’s been holding all day, Umezawa chortled out a laugh. “You can say that again.”

Ippo joined in. Soon, they quieted down as the next question waited its turn: the answer to Umezawa’s confession.

“Ippo, I won’t force you to answer. However you feel, I’ll still be your friend.”

“Umezawa…” Ippo huffed out in frustration. “Actually, I talked with Kumi.”

“Y-yeah?”

“I realized after all this time, I never truly knew much about her. Maybe it was because she was cute. That she was the first girl to treat me kindly, but… Maybe my feelings for her were shallow.”

Umezawa swallowed nervously. It was unfair for him to wish to be accepted at the cost of another girl’s feelings, but he couldn’t help but hope.

Ippo continued. “It wouldn’t be fair for her. So we…”

“Broke up?” said Umezawa after a beat of silence.

It was as if he could see Ippo’s soul leaving his body as soon as the words left his mouth. “I-I’m sorry, it must’ve been tough!”

“...It’s okay. It just hurts to hear.” He clenched his heart like a broken man. But then, he smiled. Small but genuine. “But she said she was glad I was honest.”

Umezawa breathed out in relief. He felt second-hand guilt just hearing the story and being the cause of said breakup.

“She also said she’d need some time and distance before we should talk again.”

Umezawa cringed. He patted Ippo's shoulder. Knowing him, he was feeling immense guilt for playing with a girl’s feelings in such a cruel way, even if it was all unintended.

“I’m sorry,” said Ippo. “This has just been me venting.”

“Pfft, I’d say this is payback for putting you in emotional turmoil. Just lay it on me, man.”

Ippo giggled. “Right. Then, I have one last thing to say.”

Umezawa nodded.

He breathed in deeply. “Can we–I think we should…” He breathed in and out quickly, almost to the point of hyperventilating. “I want to try it with you!”

The words echoed in his apartment. The gears in Umezawa's mind turned to process Ippo’s words. There were many ways to interpret what he said, and his dirty mind immediately conjured up scenarios for it. He shook his thoughts away.

“I-it?” he repeated.

Ippo shrunk himself down, voice lowering more than they already were. “Don’t make me say it… Y-You know, dating, and stuff.”

The pessimistic side of his mind just had to ask and try to ruin his chance. “Just try?”

“O-oh no! I’m sorry. I meant… I’m sorry Kumi for using you as a comparison. But I know you. We’ve spent so much time together. I think… I like you too.” Ippo clasped his hands together. “I’m sorry, it sounds like I’m just using you to experiment. You can just brush me off—”

“Ippo, it’s okay.” Elation filled his very being; Umezawa could barely contain his smile. He never thought this moment would come. He could jump in joy when he was alone again, for now Ippo was more important. “We can just take it slow. I’m still figuring things out myself, to be honest.”

“You are?”

Umezawa sighed. “Please don’t look so surprised—it hurts. I’ve never dated anyone myself.”

‘Cause you kept taking up space in my mind.

“I know I’m attracted to dudes, I just never tried it out with anyone.”

“I see.”

“God, now it feels even more surreal talking about this. Are we dreaming? We must be in a dream.”

Ippo bursted out into laughter. With the tension leaving the air, Umezawa laughed along. Whatever the future held, he could face it with his head held.

“Go out?”

“Yeah!” Umezawa reeled back his voice. Perhaps he was a bit too excited. “We finished work early today, so…”

“Sure. I don’t really know any places to go at night, though.”

“Oh, are you boys going out?” Hiroko set down the last piece of fishing equipment. “I can take it easy on the cooking tonight, then. You two go and have fun!”

Umezawa gave her a thumbs-up. “You got it, Captain! Hear that, Ippo? Guess we’re eating out.”

He practically jogged back to his apartment. He made sure to pick the best outfit in his wardrobe (not to the point of overdressing, of course). A colourful t-shirt layered with a blazer would do just fine paired with dressy black pants. He looked himself over in the mirror, turning his face around to see if he missed any spots while shaving.

Though there were plenty of nearby restaurants by Ippo’s house, he took his car anyway. As he pulled by Ippo’s place, he could barely hold back a laugh. There stood Ippo, stiff as a board in almost a full suit. All he needed was a tie, and he was set.

Ippo sat down in the passenger's seat with a huff.

“Getting ready for an interview?”

“Please, mom kept saying I was dressing too formally for just a casual hangout, but…”

“But?”

Ippo’s voice lowered to that of a whisper, “I wanted to impress you.”

“O-oh.” Umezawa’s fingers tapped at the driving wheel nervously. “I think you look cute.”

“C-cute?” Ippo deflated. “Not even handsome?”

Umezawa chuckled. “It’s a compliment. You look good. You just dressed very… Ippo.”

Ippo huffed. “I don’t even know how to process that.”

Umezawa started the car, slowly backing into a corner before turning the car around. “What about me?”

“What?”

“Come on, it’s not fair if only you get compliments on your clothes.”

He stepped on the gas slowly, aiming for an enjoyable, romantic car ride with Ippo. He wouldn’t say it to the man himself, though, of course.

“I think you look great.”

Umezawa hummed. He tried to play it cool, barely containing the grin forming on his face. “What about it that’s great?”

“What, that’s not fair! You didn’t say anything about mine.”

“I did. I said you dressed in your own, cute, adorable way.”

It was almost scary how easily the compliments flowed from his tongue. Perhaps it was the sudden surge of confidence after Ippo’s compliment, or the fact that they were going on a literal date.

Ippo cowered into his seat, growing quiet as pink colored his cheeks. “You really made yourself presentable.”

“Mhm.” He hummed in such a way that it was clear he was waiting for more. He was being greedy here, but it was amusing seeing Ippo squirm as he searched for more compliments.

“I noticed you styled your hair differently, too.” The more he spoke, the more it turned into mumbling. “And the colours of your clothes mesh well… I think. I missed the stubble though.”

“What? I thought it looked awful.”

It would be a lie to say that was the greatest compliment he’s ever heard, but it was coming from Ippo, and that was all that mattered. He ceased the teasing for the rest of the ride, stopping by a ramen shop he frequented.

Ippo’s heart almost stopped before he realized it was a different branch from the one Aoki worked at.

“I know, this isn’t really a romantic place for a first date. But since you like going to one with your gym mates, I thought this was a good choice.”

“It’s fine.” Ippo flashed him a smile, and it was another smile he’d commit to memory.

The dinner itself went by smoothly. Initial date awkwardness quickly melted away. They’ve known each other for a long while; it was just like usual. The only thing different was the context of their relationship.

And the expectation of where it would go.

The ride back was filled with tension. Briefly, Umezawa thought of turning the car around to his place to take Ippo for the night. He shifted his legs closed in fear it would rear its head in excitement from his overactive imagination.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one anxious in this car ride, at least. Ippo looked out the window, then back at his own lap, then the front window. He didn’t know where to look.

With neither of them able to utter a single word, they finally arrived at Ippo’s house. With a disappointed sigh, Ippo unlocked his door and opened it.

“Wait.” Umezawa stopped him with a grab on his arm. The touch sent jolts of electricity down both their bodies.

“W-What?”

“Won’t—don’t you wanna do something? Before leaving.”

Ippo cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Oh yeah. Good night, Umezawa. Today was really fun.”

Umezawa dropped his head in defeat. “I knew I was hopeless, but you’re even worse.” Slowly, he leaned forward.

Ippo’s breath quickened as the gap between their faces grew smaller and smaller, eyes focused on Umezawa’s parted lips. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes in anticipation. Umezawa almost chuckled at the sight. He moved sideways and planted a kiss on his cheek, embarrassing himself by the act. It was enough to get himself all excited.

Ippo opened his eyes in surprise. He felt the cheek with his hand, then grinned, giggling to himself. Then he snapped, realizing he was still in the car with Umezawa, watching his every expression.

“U-Umezawa, thank you for tonight. Let’s go again another time!”

He bolted inside his house. Umezawa stayed for a moment, staring at the roof of his car. His feet barely stayed still, tapping the floor with delight. A grin formed on his face as he shook his fists giddily.

Tonight was a success. And there were many more to come.

Their progress was slow but steady, unnoticed by anyone around them. In public, they played the part of friends, careful to keep physical contact to a minimum. Only in private—his car, alleyways, locked doors—did they let themselves show what they truly felt.

Like now, in Umezawa’s apartment after a late-night trip to the cinema. The film had been a romance that had clearly left its mark.

The door had barely clicked shut when Ippo pushed him back against it, closing the space between them. Their faces were so close their lips brushed when they tried to speak. The air between them was quick, restless—like they’d been holding back all night and had no intention of waiting a second longer.

Then their lips met. Neither knew who moved first, but they kissed back like it mattered—like they’d been waiting too long. It was clumsy as hell: teeth knocking, tongues tangling where they shouldn’t.

He’d never kissed anyone before, but if he had, he was certain this would’ve ranked among the worst. And still—it was Ippo. Their first kiss. Stupid, messy, unforgettable.

When they finally broke apart, their hearts hammered like never before. The silence that followed wasn’t empty; it was charged, heavy, aching. Neither spoke. Neither had to. They both wanted more.

Without a word, Umezawa guided Ippo toward the futon. He wasn’t sure how far they’d go tonight, but the condom he’d kept tucked in his pocket since their first date reminded him he’d been ready for this moment. Just as his knees touched the floor, Ippo flipped him down onto the futon with ease.

Ippo loomed above him, arms braced on either side, caging him in. Umezawa had seen that look before, the one Ippo wore when he drifted off into daydreams—expression tight, eyes far away, clearly picturing something indecent. It had always made him smile, knowing even he wasn’t immune to stray, perverted thoughts (and it eased his guilt of defiling Captain’s son.)

Now, though, Ippo’s gaze was sharp, burning with the same intensity he wore in the ring when gunning for the championship belt. And with that fire boring into him, Umezawa’s hesitation slipped away. He reached up, tugged Ippo down, and caught his lips.

They were still clumsy at it, still finding their rhythm. But little by little, they were getting better. He was sure there’d be plenty of opportunities to practice. And really, it didn’t matter—it felt damn good all the same.

Ippo straddled his hips, and the friction sent shivers up his spine. His hands grabbed Ippo’s hips, grounding him onto his lap, lips never parting. He bucked up his hips, chasing more of that friction. Ippo gasped, breaking the kiss. He could feel Ippo’s hot breath down his neck as he continued to grind his hips up onto his rear.

“U-Umezawa, please…”

“W-What? Too fast?”

Ippo shook his head. He lifted his head, staring at where their hips met. “Can you take it out?”

Umezawa swallowed hard. He could hardly believe the words spilling from Ippo’s mouth—or the hot, ragged breath washing over him from above. “Yours?”

“Yours.”

“O-oh. Let’s uh, both do it.”

Ippo awkwardly got on his feet while Umezawa lay on the ground as they took off their pants. He watched tentatively as Ippo dragged his boxer down with nervous hands, shirt still intact. Slowly.

It was an absolute behemoth.

Could he even take that?

“Um,” Ippo knelt down, too formal for someone who has a weeping erection, “what now? What should I do?”

Umezawa let out a nervous breath. “God, you’re too adorable. Come here.”

He pulled Ippo by the hips, returning to their former position as Ippo straddled him, their cocks now touching, and their difference in size was even more apparent. Umezawa would laugh if it wasn't his dick that was being overshadowed.

He had grabbed the bottle of lube earlier and poured a generous amount onto his hand. Ippo watched with bated breath as he brought his hand closer and closer to its prize.

They shuddered as he wrapped his hand around their cock. The lube felt cool to the touch.

“I can’t even wrap my hand around them both—you’re a monster.”

“Oh…” Ippo’s shoulder slumped.

“Shit, in a good way! I mean—just shut up.”

He started stroking. Ippo whimpered from the touch, embarrassed at the noise he was making. His fists clenched every time Umezawa reached the base of their cocks.

Umezawa drank in the sight above him. Ippo’s breath was heavy, his eyes shut tight. Ippo thrusted his hip forward to meet every stroke of his hand. Umezawa bit his lip, imagining that thrusting into him instead one day. The fact that it was a tangible future now only made him more excited.

“U-Umezawa, slow down.”

He breathed, “Why should I?”

“This feels—ah, better than when I do it myself.”

“Heh, fuck. Same here.”

It was true. He doubted even five minutes had passed, but he was already getting close.

Real close.

Ippo leaned down on his forearms, breathing down his neck as Umezawa picked up the pace. Strained, throaty moans escaped their mouths from each stroke, producing more of that sinful noise of sex. He hoped the neighboring tenants were fast asleep because he wasn’t sure how much longer they could keep it down.

“Umezawa, I—”

“Me too, bud.”

Umezawa reached around Ippo’s back with his other arm, pulling him closer. Their cocks were out of sight. Their bodies pressed onto one another—that muscular body he’d worked on for years, he yearned to touch all this time. Ippo keened, whimpered, letting out a noise he never thought was even possible.

Then a violent shudder coursed through Ippo’s whole body. Soon, warm, sticky liquid hit Umezawa’s shirt and dripped down his hand, intensifying the wet, squelching sound in the room.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is too hot.

His mind went blank. He hugged Ippo tighter as his vision went white. Waves of pleasure washed over him, his hips arching up out of his control. His hand trembled as he squeezed them dry, body trembling and twitching in utter bliss. He spilled into his hand, adding into the hot, sticky mess between them.

His body finally gave out, and he dropped his hand as he slumped to the futon.

“C’mere.”

“What?”

Umezawa cupped Ippo’s cheeks and kissed him. It was hurried, emotionally filled, and lacked any finesse. And Ippo answered back in kind.

They pulled apart, catching their breath.

Ippo said, “That was… good.”

“Heh, underestimation of the year.”

“Yeah…”

The weight on top of him grew heavier. “Whoa, whoa, are you falling asleep?” His question was answered with a weak nod. “Call Captain first or something. I don’t want her to worry all night.”

Grumbling, Ippo stood (still pantsless) and made his call using Umezawa’s apartment phone. Even when the caller on the other side couldn’t see him, Ippo still bowed his head as he said goodbye.

Umezawa took the chance to take off his shirt and clean himself up with wet wipes, offering some to Ippo when he came back. Ippo sat, silent, after finishing wiping himself down. Their stained shirts were left in a messy pile in the corner for their future selves to worry about.

“You coming or what?” asked Umezawa, raising one side of the blanket.

“O-oh, um. I’m just wondering. Can we… cuddle?”

Umezawa rubbed the back of his head. “Do you even have to ask? Unless you’re thinking of a second round.”

Ippo visibly gulped at the last sentence. “We can sleep—uh, cuddle.”

“Then get your ass over here.”

They settled into the futon, making use of every inch of room it offered. Ippo’s back was flushed against his chest. Neither said a word, merely enjoying the other’s presence until sleep overtook them.

There were many things they needed to think about. How they should treat each other in public, how much they should meet before it would seem too suspicious for mere friends, how they would explain this all to Captain. But it all could wait, because now, feeling Ippo’s warmth, his peaceful breath on his skin, was enough.

Chapter Text

“It’s emptier than I expected.”

“Well, I made sure of that.”

Umezawa had taken them to a tucked-away restaurant on the city’s edge; it was his turn to choose. Quiet, nearly empty, yet serving food worth the trip. A little hidden gem.

He welcomed the silence—he preferred it, and it sheltered them. No need for whispers, no need to hide, no eyes to watch. Still, they chose the corner seat, Umezawa with his back to the wall, watchful for anyone approaching, and Ippo across from him, sipping his smoothie with that unguarded little smile that made Umezawa’s chest ache.

Between them, their hands found each other and stayed there, quietly intertwined.

“I’m glad,” said Ippo.

Umezawa made a mental reminder to return to this place for future outings.

“Your turn next,” Umezawa said as he circled the straw of his iced coffee, ice cubes clinking against the cup, before taking his own sip. “I’ve been craving ramen lately.”

“Oh, we can go to Aoki’s!”

Umezawa lightly flicked Ippo on the forehead, earning a small, exaggerated “ow” as if anything he did could hurt a reigning boxing champion. He expected the answer, but the quickness of his delivery surprised him nonetheless.

“The deal was a new place each time, you dolt.”

Ippo rubbed where Umezawa’s finger made contact, muttering, “But you said it was tasty.”

“Admit it.” He propped his chin on his palm, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re just running out of places to drag me to, haven’t you?”

Ippo looked away, letting out a nervous laugh and no retort.

“You really should get out more.”

“But I do!”

Umezawa rolled his eyes, smirk never fading. “Yeah, alll the way to Osaka and other prefectures just to hit gyms or watch matches.”

Ippo’s lips pressed into a pout, brows furrowing. Umezawa loved the look; it was too fun to poke and tease the man.

“Well, you only go out to collect references for your manga.”

“And?” Umezawa shrugged, leaning back as he crossed his legs. “I get to find places to take my handsome boyfriend on dates.”

Ippo’s mouth opened, then closed again, the gears in his head visibly turning as a flush spread across his cheeks. Finally, his shoulders slumped in surrender. Umezawa had to fight the urge to reach out and pinch his cheeks.

“Oh, come on, don’t pout.”

“And whose fault is that?” The accusation fell flat, more fluster than edge.

Umezawa watched, knowing he’d look back at these moments for the rest of his life—his smile, his flush, the warmth of his hand that never pulled away throughout their conversation.

The quiet stretched between them. Comfortable. Ippo’s thumb traced lazy circles across the back of his hand, and neither felt the need to break the silence, only appreciating each other’s presence and the warmth and softness of their touch. With a tilt of his head, Umezawa looked over Ippo’s seat. No one in sight. He tugged Ippo forward by the hand, catching the widening of his eyes just before their lips met.

A kiss—quick, chaste, and far from enough. But he pulled back, the risk of being seen ever stuck in the back of his mind. Ippo leaned after him, lips parted, only to be halted by Umezawa’s finger against his mouth. He knew. As much as Umezawa wanted it, any further and they’d lose themselves. Still, the sight of Ippo’s flushed face, mouth trembling as his thoughts scrambled, made it more than worth it.

“Come on, we’ve done worse stuff than that.”

Ippo huffed, though his grin betrayed him. “Doesn’t make it any less special.”

Umezawa let out a soft sigh, smiling despite himself. “You’re too pure for your own good.”

Quick footsteps drew near. Their hands slipped apart just before someone passed their table on the way to the bathroom. In that instant, Umezawa caught the flicker of disappointment on Ippo’s face—no doubt mirroring his own.

He nudged at a slice of tomato with his chopsticks while Ippo absently twirled his straw, both of their appetites gone. The minutes dragged until the person finally emerged and left.

A breath of relief escaped from Umezawa. “Wanna come over after this?”

“You won't mind?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

Ippo’s politeness had its charm, but it was still a habit Umezawa longed to break if only by a little.

A beat of silence passed as Ippo’s eyes slid to the side, that familiar look crossing his face—something on his mind, but the words catching in his throat.

“Actually… Mom won’t be home until late tonight.”

Oh?

“Really?” Umezawa raised a brow, leaning in. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with that information?”

Ippo’s gaze dropped to the remains of their meal, avoiding his eyes. “We could… spend our time there instead.”

Umezawa hummed knowingly. “And not at my place? Why’s that?”

His lips pressed tight before he muttered, almost too low to hear, “It’s more private. We could do more.”

“Now, why would we need more privacy, my dear Ippo? Wouldn’t we be just as alone at my apartment?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the last customers leaving. The moment the door shut, his hand slipped back over Ippo’s, fingers tracing lightly up his arm. He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Are you worried we’ll be making… too much noise?”

Ippo swallowed, his eyes locking onto Umezawa’s. “I just—I want you close. Please.” The words stumbled out, his brief bravado vanishing as quickly as it came, leaving only a flush of embarrassment behind.

Umezawa’s chest tightened. “Me too.”

They left the restaurant together, and Umezawa drove them toward Ippo’s home. The ride was quiet except for the soft tap of Umezawa’s foot against the floorboard. It wasn’t nerves, not really. He supposed he and Ippo shared the same thought: that no matter what, being together like this would always be special.

The silence followed them to the house, broken only when Umezawa parked and let Ippo guide him inside by the hand. He expected something once the door clicked shut: the rush of Ippo’s breath as he was pressed against the wall, the weight of a futon beneath them, their mouths never breaking apart as they tasted each other for the umpteenth time.

So when Ippo only wrapped his arms around him, burying his face gently against the crook of his neck and nothing more, he froze.

“Ippo.”

“Can we stay like this? Please.”

Umezawa answered by returning the hug, pulling him as close as the world would allow him to. The warmth against his skin, the breath ghosting over his neck, the firm grip with no intent of letting go—he’d trade the world just to keep it.

“Did something happen?” Umezawa asked.

Ippo’s hair brushed against his skin as he shook his head.

“Something on your mind?”

Another shake of his head, this time with a low hum. “I just want to hug you.”

Umezawa’s heart swelled. Ippo wasn’t saying everything; he had a feeling of what it was. It was frustrating to be unable to hold each other close like this any time they wanted. The feeling must’ve boiled over the tipping point. And he shared that sentiment.

Lifting his head, Umezawa pressed a kiss to Ippo’s forehead. “When’s Captain coming back?” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes before leaning in to give a softer kiss against his cheek.

“Not until around ten, probably—” The next kiss to his lips cut him off, leaving him blinking for a moment, “—she said she was meeting a friend.”

Umezawa only hummed in reply, taking his turn to bury his face against Ippo’s neck. “Your room. I wanna stay like this too.”

There was a pause, then Ippo answered, low and soft, “Okay.”

“What’re you doing out so early? You usually start your roadwork a bit later.”

To meet Umezawa, he almost blurted out. It was still difficult to omit the truth from his mom. And it would most likely never change. He wondered how long he could truly skirt around the bush around her—someone so sharp that knew him inside out. He was sure she’d already know something was up, just not exactly what.

They met in the park, early enough to almost catch the sunrise. Just the two of them on the bench, conveniently obscured from sight behind the trees, one’s head on the other’s shoulder, hands never letting go. It was peaceful. Quiet. A moment both wished could last. Rarely has anyone ever come by the park so early—besides ones like Ippo, determined to improve their body by running—in which case they’d let go, movements practiced, pretending as if they were looking at the scenery around them and not each other’s features they’ve come to adore.

Once the time came for Ippo to start his roadwork, they’d part ways, schedule the next time they’d meet as proper lovers. In Umezawa’s apartment behind closed doors, or Ippo’s house when Captain was out busy, or the cinema where it was so dark no one could see where their hands lay.

It ached.

But they accepted it.

“It’d be so much easier if we were living together.”

Umezawa wasn’t thinking much when he said that. He still wasn’t even now, too tired, exhausted, dragging his pen to draw the next dialogue bubble in his manga. Eventually, he noticed the lack of any sound behind him. No scribbling. No cutting. No mumbling.

They both were talking about Captain's schedule, something to keep in mind whenever he wanted to visit Ippo for something more than a friendly visit. Then silence, not one attempt at a conversation to fill the empty air as they work on his manga.

Finally, it clicked in Umezawa’s brain what he’d just said. He turned his head to see Ippo’s empty stare into his page on the table, and he could guess the reason why.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You don’t want to?” he asked in a defeated voice. This was no fight in the ring, yet it sounded as if he’d lost the chance at a title.

Umezawa let out a shaky breath. He fully turned his chair to face Ippo. “I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I never thought about it. But… we don’t really have a proper excuse for it.”

Ippo let out a breath of his own, long and drawn out, as if contemplating his next words. With one last glance at Umezawa, he finally said, “I want to tell Mom about us.”

He’d thought of this moment a thousand times, never allowing the daydreams to go any further, too afraid the fantasy would only sharpen the sting of rejection. Now it was here: Captain. Ippo’s mother. The possible consequences of telling her were endless and frightening.

But Ippo wanted it. And who was he to deny his wish?

“When?”

Ippo blinked. His tilted head, staring at Umezawa—a wordless request to repeat what he said.

“Look, you’re not the only one who's been thinking that. Maybe… Maybe it’s time to introduce me to your parent,” Umezawa finished with a shrug, the corner of his mouth tugging into a wry smile. It was a poor attempt at a joke, but at least he earned a small chuckle to ease the tension, if only by a tiny margin.

“You already know her.”

“Duh, but y’know, not as your dashing lover.”

Ippo’s gaze dropped again. A beat of silence as he released a heavy breath through his nose. Umezawa could hear the gears in his head turning.

“I’m scared, Umezawa.”

Ah.

Umezawa lowered himself to the floor, reaching for Ippo's hand on the coffee table, then palming its back. Gingerly, Ippo turned his hand around, interlocking their fingers. It was warm and soft. An anchor to ground himself in this ever-revolving world.

“Can’t be worse than when you found my magazine.”

Ippo snorted. “You left it out in the open.”

Silence fell upon them once again. Easier this time, lighter. Ippo’s hand gripped his tighter, and he answered in kind.

“I just… it doesn’t feel right keeping us a secret from her,” said Ippo. “I don’t want to feel ashamed when I’m with you.”

Around her, Umezawa added in his mind. Of course, they wished to never have the need to hide in the first place, but neither of them could bring themselves to say it.

“Has she ever said anything? About two men in a relationship, I mean.”

“No. The topic never really came up.”

“Well, it’s not really a popular topic to begin with,” said Umezawa with a shrug. “I guess this’ll be a shot in the dark. Just say when, and we can tell her together.”

“How about this Friday?”

Umezawa blinked. It was a faster answer than he expected. “That’s in two days. You already have a plan in mind?”

“No, not really,” he said in between nervous chuckles. “That’s the soonest she’d be free, and I’d rather not delay this any longer.”

“Friday it is then.”

He couldn’t recall any moment when he was as nervous as he was right now. His first job interview? Apologizing to Ippo and Captain? Confessing his love?

But no matter his feelings, Ippo wanted this, so he’d walk down the road with him.

It was dinner time. He visited under the excuse to catch up with Captain after weeks apart. As they talked and ate, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his time when he first worked here, and how much it had affected his life in more ways than one.

And if it could continue into the near future after this.

“Say, mom…”

They’d finished their meal, now enjoying their respective drinks, their empty plates and bowls stacked in one neat pile in the center to be washed later.

“Hm? What is it, dear?”

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

The signal. Taking one last sip of his water, Umezawa steeled himself, fist clenched on his knees below the table. There was no grand strategy. Ippo would lead, but everything after was up in the air.

As if sensing the air shift, she sat up straighter as she said, “Go ahead.”

“It’s about me and Umezawa.”

He tensed at the sound of his name. For a moment, it echoed that same jolt of shock from when he’d caught Ippo flipping through his magazine. But this time was different. Controlled, intentional. The difference eased him, if only a little.

Ippo was looking at her directly in her eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of determination and fear. “We’re together—romantically, I mean. It’s been going on for almost a year now.”

Quick and simple. There was no need for explanation or excuses, just that they were. But it didn’t help ease his pounding heart as he watched for any reaction on Captain's face.

Her eyes were wide open, flickering between them both. Shock and surprise, but no grimace or disgust, if his judgment was anything to go by.

“U-Um, I still like girls!” Ippo blurted, the words spilling out faster and faster. “Umezawa said that means I’m something called a bisexual—I think. You probably don't know what it means, uh, also Kumi and I—”

“Do you like him?”

“H-Huh?”

Her eyes stayed on Ippo’s, steady and warm. Once, that same gaze had left him shrinking back, unable to apologize for the years he had spent tormenting her son before she chose to forgive.

“I love him.”

The words slipped free, simple and certain. Umezawa’s breath caught, his chest tightening. The time they’ve spent together may have not been the longest—yet hearing it now felt right, like something that had always been there, finally spoken aloud.

He noticed the shift in her posture, the way her shoulders eased as though a weight had slipped free. “That’s all I need to know.”

Umezawa blinked, certain he’d misheard. “W–Wait… really?” His voice cracked, and when he glanced at Ippo, he found his mouth hung open, mirroring his disbelief. “Just like that?”

Her answer came without hesitation. “If Ippo’s chosen you, then that’s enough for me.”

It should have been reassuring, simple; the perfect outcome he’d hoped for. Yet doubt lingered in his mind. The sinking feeling in his chest grew, guilt gnawing at him for searching cracks within her words when there were none. His hand twitched, pointing clumsily between himself and Ippo, the words tangling in his throat until they finally fumbled out. “But—we’re both men! Don’t you—I mean, aren’t you…”

She sighed softly. “I’ll admit, I don’t fully understand it all. But it isn’t my place to stand in Ippo’s way, is it?

“I’ve watched you for a long time now, Umezawa. You’ve made mistakes in the past, but I can see the kind of man you are: A good man I could entrust my son to.”

“Mom, I…” Ippo lowered his head, bumping the table against his forehead, but he didn’t flinch. “T-Thank you.”

Umezawa felt himself going limp. Captain accepted them. A home where they didn’t have to hide; the future he dreamt of having with Ippo will become real.

“Come on now, you think I would've done something to you?”

“Yes,” Umezawa blurted, a little too fast. “I-I mean… I’ve heard of people getting kicked out of their homes and even disowned. So, um, I was worried Ippo would…” He trailed off, unable to finish putting his fears into words.

“Do you really see me as someone capable of that?” The hurt in her voice cut deep, weighted with disappointment, before it gave way to something gentler. “No… I suppose this must’ve been frightening for you.”

She rose and moved to Ippo’s side, her hand beckoning Umezawa closer. He obeyed, curious, and no sooner had he sat beside them than she drew them both into her arms.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Her hands moved along their backs in gentle strokes. Umezawa felt the sting in his eyes, tears threatening to break through, his attempt to blink them away betrayed by quiet sniffles. Ippo fared no better, his face buried deep against her shoulder, likely leaving a damp stain on her shirt.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Eventually, calm settled between them.

She asked nothing, maybe saving her questions for later, or maybe content with what they’d already shared. Ippo gathered the dishes while Umezawa stood beside Hiroko at the sink, washing them clean. For the first time in a long while, he felt light, as though a weight had finally slipped from his shoulders.

With everything finished, Umezawa pulled his jacket from the coat hanger, readying himself to head home.

“Where are you going?” asked Hiroko.

He slid one arm into his jacket sleeve. “Well,” he said, “it’s about time I head out—”

“You’re staying.”

Umezawa paused, jacket hanging loosely on his arm. “Huh?”

“No buts. It’s getting late.”

Ippo glanced between them, torn on which side to take.

“It’s fine, Captain,” Umezawa said, brushing her concern away with a casual wave. “I’ve spent enough nights walking around the neighborhood after all-nighters; this is nothing.”

A long, drawn-out sigh escaped her lips before opening the fridge. “That’s a shame. I happened to buy more meat than I needed for tomorrow’s meal…” Her eyes flicked sideways, meeting his, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “I’d hate for it to go to waste.”

Umezawa’s grin slipped out before he could stop it, his eyes narrowing knowingly. “You really don’t fight fair, do you?” He shot his arms up in defeat. “Alright, I’ll stay. Hard to say no when you play that card.”

She giggled as she closed the fridge. “And that, Ippo, is how you speak up when you want something.”

“W-What?”

Umezawa slid his jacket back onto the hanger with a smirk. “Your face did look a little disappointed there.”

Accepting his fate, Umezawa joined Ippo for a bath (and nothing more, unless they wanted to traumatize Captain). With no question asked, they shared the bed. Sleep claimed them the instant their heads touched the pillows.

The first thing Umezawa heard when he opened his eyes was the faint hum of lively chatter in the distance. The space beside him was empty, lacking any of the warmth he’d grown so used to, though he didn’t need to guess why.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d slept this well. No deadlines, no manga drafts looming over him, not even worries about their future together. His shoulders felt light. The futon’s warmth, the crisp morning air—it was enough to coax him back into his slumber. So he let it, slipping back under the blanket as his eyelids drifted shut.

“Umezawa!”

The drowsiness vanished in an instant. “Wh—Yes!” He shot upright on reflex, as if he were back on the boat snapping to Captain’s orders.

“How long are you planning to sleep? Breakfast is ready.” She stood in the doorway, apron tied, ladle in hand. For a moment, he wondered if she’d smack him with it if he dared to push his luck.

“Sorry, Captain. Just been a while since I’ve slept this well.”

Doubts still lingered in his mind. Was she truly alright with this? What if she changed her mind? But then she sighed, her frown giving way to a warm smile, and the worry wrapping him tight loosened. Here, he could learn to live without fear as himself, in every way that mattered.

“You can consider this your home, Umezawa.”

He nodded. No words could ever be enough to articulate his gratitude.

“But that doesn't mean you get to laze around.” She crossed her arms. “Now get up before your food gets cold.”

He chuckled, rising to his feet. “Come on, I’ve helped plenty of times with the dishes.”

“That won’t be the only thing you’ll be doing.”

He tilted his head, testing the waters with a hint of a grin. “You mean when I move in?”

Her smile widened ever so slightly, sliding the door shut as he stepped out of the bedroom. “I’d be more than happy to have you here—though I’m not sure my heart would survive it.”

“What do you mean?”

They made their way down the hall toward the kitchen, where Ippo was already setting plates on the table.

“You’re both still young and energetic. And this house isn’t exactly spacious.” She sighed, resting her palm against her cheek as though discussing something ordinary. “We might just have to work out a schedule.”

The implication hit him instantly. “W–We’re not that horny!”

Ippo’s head peeked around the corner to look down the hallway. “Mom, Umezawa? Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, honey.” She giggled, walking ahead and leaving him alone to pick up the scattered pieces of his brain.

From the kitchen came the murmur of voices, and he slowed his steps.

“Mom, do you want some tea?”

“Sure. What about Umezawa?”

“Oh, I already made him something."

“Black?”

“Mhm.”

“Good thing we had some. I’ll make sure to stock up.”

Umezawa finally emerged from the hallway. Steadier now, though the exchange had left him speechless all over again. Maybe the real concern wasn’t her rejection, but how quickly she seemed ready to accept him into the family. Not the worst problem to have, he supposed.