Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sunlight filters through the leaves above, casting the tiniest pools of light across the picnic table Karasu Tabito has commandeered in hopes of getting some studying done. Foolish hopes, it seems, as he’s interrupted not even 20 minutes into his session by his idiotic best friend plopping down on the bench across from him.

“I’m setting you up on a date,” Otoya Eita says, face neutral as usual as he picks up a few of Karasu’s papers to skim over them.

Karasu raises an eyebrow, snatching the papers to put them back in their appropriate order. he wouldn’t care if Otoya was reading them out of genuine interest, but that’s not it. He just wanted to mess with Karasu’s organization. “No, yer not.”

“I am and you can’t stop me.” Otoya takes out his phone and taps the screen a few times. Moments later, Karasu’s phone buzzes beside him. He has at least half a brain, so he can put two and two together and assume that it’s a text from the annoyance himself. “Shut up and show up there Sunday at 3.”

Karasu rolls his eyes, giving into his curiosity and grabbing his phone to check where ‘there’ is, exactly. A museum that’s technically part of the university, so it’s on campus and within walking distance. “Ya already did it then.”

“Yeppers.”

“Ya can’t be serious.”

“As serious as Rin Rin.”

Otoya’s been on this kick for weeks now. His own last date went horribly, supposedly, and so he’s sworn off dating for who knows how long. Karasu’s betting two weeks. Yukimiya bet one. The one with the most faith in him is Nagi, who said it’d be a whole month. One week is already out, and the clock is ticking real close to two weeks being out too, but Karasu likes his odds.

Regardless, in his boredom, Otoya’s become far too interested in everyone else’s love lives, Karasu’s included. He’s been making dating app profiles for all their friends, setting them up on dates, and critiquing their wardrobes (as if he’s one to speak). Karasu had thus far dodged any dates, and it seems his luck has finally run out.

But Karasu has no interest in dating right now. He’s halfway through his junior year of undergrad and is still hoping to make it into graduate school right after graduation as well. Graduate school which is already delayed by the fact that he’s a student athlete, so his undergrad program is five years instead of four. When does he even have time to date? If he’s not in class, he’s on the soccer field or traveling to away games. Doing press appearances. Weight training. Conditioning.

What few free hours he has are spent doing school work or analyzing past games, keeping tabs on the current happenings on the stock market, or engaging in heated Reddit discussions about various potential outcomes had certain historical events been handled differently. He sure as fuck doesn’t have time to add in buying flowers and going on dates.

Except apparently he does, because 2:55pm on Sunday finds him standing outside the museum Otoya had indicated. What he doesn’t expect is for Otoya himself to show up a few minutes later, looking dumb as fuck in a plaid bucket hat and an oversized graphic tee that has some poorly translated English saying on it that doesn’t make any damn sense.

“Oh fuck no,” Karasu starts to complain, assuming Otoya being here could only mean he’s the date. Karasu feels like a fucking idiot for not asking about the ‘who.’ And if his heart skips a little bit at the idea, well. He’ll face that later. Now is not the time.

Otoya blinks at him and if Karasu didn’t know him so well, he’d think Otoya was disinterested. But he does know Otoya, which is why he can clearly see the amusement in his features. “Oh good. I thought you might bail.”

“Whaddaya mean, ya thought I might bail?”

“It’d look bad on me if my guy showed up to no one.”

“So ya came ta steal my date if I didn’t show?” At least that’s better than Otoya being the date, even if it is a stupid fucking plan.

Otoya shrugs and doesn’t even try to deny it. “It’s called collaboration, Tabi-chan. You watch my back, I watch yours. Oh. There he is.”

Karasu follows Otoya’s gaze to see what might possibly be the prettiest man he’s ever laid eyes on. A stark contrast to Otoya, this guy does have a sense of style, with his tight jeans and a navy sweater vest fitted over a crisp white button down. He’s a couple of inches shorter than Karasu, but he’s built like he’s just as familiar with the gym. The guy’s red hair is worn loose, ends brushing below the curve of his shoulders. His long lashes kiss the apples of his cheeks with each blink and it has to be intentional when he reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Pretty as he is, he’s got one hell of a resting bitch face that only contorts into a look of annoyance once his eyes land on Otoya. Which, yeah. Valid reaction.

“Why are you here?” he snaps in a tone that makes Karasu think he’s fallen in love at first sight. Anyone who can bark at Otoya like that is a winner in his eyes.

“I told you I was setting you up on a date,” Otoya explains, unhelpfully.

“Yeah, I’m guessing with this guy. But why are you here?” The redhead tries again.

“To chaperone, of course. Can’t have you desecrating Tabi-chan’s maidenhood.”

It’s pure instinct that has Karasu swinging at him but Otoya dodges masterfully, two fingers held before his lips in a ninja sign.

“He was planning on stealin’ ya if I didn’t show,” Karasu explains before turning an expectant gaze on his friend. “He’s leavin’ now.”

Otoya blinks as though this is the most insane thing he’s heard all week. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, ya are. That’s how dates work.”

“Like I said. I’m your chaperone.”

“Like hell I need a chaperone—”

The redhead looks between the two of them before clicking his tongue in annoyance. “Look whatever this is, hard pass. I’m not interested in being your third.”

Karasu damn near squawks in offense at those words. “I ain’t datin’ this asshole!” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten such an accusation, but he hates it every time.

His date looks at him with pure disbelief. “You sure could fool me.”

“Missy, I told you I’m straight,” Otoya explains, fingers held up in a hang ten.

“Yeah, and I told you I won America’s Next Top Model.”

Otoya wags his eyebrows and elbows Karasu. “See? Impressive. I picked you a winner.”

Karasu pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s clear the guy was being sarcastic, but it’s less clear if Otoya knows that and is being purposefully obtuse, or if he genuinely believes that to be the truth. “Goodbye, Eita.”

It takes several more minutes to convince the redhead not to leave and Otoya to fuck off, but finally, they’re left alone.

“Sorry about him. He’s insufferable when he’s bored,” Karasu explains, hoping he can still salvage this. He might not agree with the whole idea, but he’s already here and the guy is hot. Besides. It’d be fucking annoying to have his whole day’s plans ruined.

“Tell me about it,” the redhead fusses with the ends of his hair as if contemplating his decision before looking up to meet Karasu’s gaze. “You’re Cawrasu then?”

“Fuckin’ pardon?”

His date looks confused and genuinely apologetic. “Did I get it wrong? My bad. Otoya said he was setting me up with someone named Cawrasu Tabi. Well, he said ‘Cawrasu Tabi-chan’ but I imagine the -chan part is the honorific.”

“M’gonna kill him,” Karasu mutters low under his breath. “It’s *Ka-*rasu. Karasu Tabito.” Karasu pulls out his phone to show the kanji, the standard reading for crow.

The redhead studies it for a moment then snorts a laugh. “Oh. I get it. Caw because—”

Karasu shoots a glare in his date’s direction, quickly pocketing his phone again. “Don’t ya start, too.”

“Touchy,” he says, but he leaves it at that. “Well Karasu Tabito. I’m Chigiri Hyouma. Shall we head in?”

Chigiri Hyouma. That’s a nice name. “Yeah. Are ya good with this?” he asks, gesturing towards the museum. He personally fucking loves museums, but he knows most people find them to be boring. “That idiot chose it. I like history stuff, that’s probably why.”

“I like history too, so maybe he’s not completely out to fuck us over,” Chigiri says. Karasu will give Otoya points for apparently taking both of their interests into consideration, but he’s not completely off the hook just yet.

“Nah, that’s definitely his prerogative, trust me.” Karasu motions towards the ticketing booth. “After ya.”

Chigiri falls into step beside him and Karasu takes care of purchasing their admission tickets. Once they’ve turned away to head inside, Chigiri speaks up again. “Where’s your accent from?”

Karasu’s used to this question, and Chigiri seems genuinely curious and not elitist about it, so Karasu answers without snark. “Osaka. Kansai.”

“Oh, way up there.”

“Ha??”

“I’m from Kagoshima.”

“Osaka ain’t ‘way up there.’ It ain’t Hokkaido.”

“Okay well when you’re as south as the country gets aside from Okinawa, it’s pretty ‘up there’ to me.”

It’s a comfortable bickering, the kind Karasu usually employs with his friends to pass the time. He appreciates it for that reason. It wouldn’t be enjoyable if it was real bickering, but the lighter stuff is nice. Means he doesn’t have to filter himself. Not like he would anyway.

They look at the first few exhibits with their conversation doing much of the same. It’s typical first date small talk—what are you studying? Oh, you play soccer? I used to but stopped due to injury. Do you have siblings? What do you do in your free time?—but Karasu can’t help but feel off the whole time. It’s not Chigiri. So far, Chigiri’s great. He’s sassy. Karasu likes that. But it’s something else. He feels like they’re being watched, like there are eyes burning holes into the back of his head. The museum isn’t even that busy right now, with only a handful of other patrons in sight at any given point in time. He turns only slightly, hoping to catch whoever it is in the act, but every way he looks comes up blank.

It takes two more exhibits before he finally catches the flash of white. The sigh he wants to unleash is so deep, but he refrains from exhaling it so as to not offend Chigiri.

And ain’t that something? A date he didn’t even want and here he is, not wanting to offend him and not wanting his idiot friend to ruin this for him. But Chigiri is interesting. Not at all mediocre. Karasu’s kind of annoyed that he’s enjoying himself if he’s being honest. This was just supposed to be to humor Otoya and now Karasu’s stuck wondering what a second date could look like and if he needs to rethink his scheduled routine.

He’s well aware that Otoya’s still following them, but he acts like he’s none the wiser. Chigiri leads them into a mini-theater, finding them seats to watch an interactive retelling of Nobunaga Oda’s rise and fall. Karasu already knows all of this. Between his own love of history and Otoya’s obsession with ninjas (who were utilized a ton by Nobunaga and his adversaries), he’d be hard pressed to find out something new about the Demon Daimyō. It’s only a few moments before he feels an arm loop around his shoulder. He should have known before he even turned that it was definitely not Chigiri, but getting an eyeful of Otoya’s profile instead has Karasu damn near grinding his teeth down to the gums.

“Soooo… are you two gonna kiss or what?” The nuisance has the audacity to ask.

Chigiri jumps near out of his skin before anger flashes across his features. For a moment, it looks like he’s thinking about punching Otoya and Karasu kind of wants to see that happen, so doesn’t even try to intervene.

“Have you been following us this whole time?” Chigiri asks.

“Yep.” Karasu answers. When Chigiri’s glare redirects towards him, he realizes he should probably explain better. “I didn’t wanna point it out ‘cuz I was hoping he’d get bored and fuck off.”

“No chance! My set up is working~” Otoya wags his eyebrows suggestively, gesturing between the two of them.

“Yeah, yeah, yer master of romance ninja technique was right fer once. Happy?”

“What?” The anger has left Chigiri’s face, replaced by shock and Karasu realizes he’s said too much.

To be clear, Karasu doesn’t blush, but he does clear his throat and adjust his weight in the seat. “I just mean I’m having a good time. Are ya?”

Chigiri softens a little just a moment later. “Yeah,” he agrees.

And it’s nice, for a few seconds. Before Otoya’s dumb mouth has to go and ruin it again.

“I don’t know, I’m not convinced you two even have chemistry. There’s nothing here. Guess I’ll take the L on this one,” Otoya says with a dramatic sigh, like he’s been terribly inconvenienced. “Sorry, Tabi-chan. You’re not getting laid tonight and there’s definitely no chance of a kiss.”

Chigiri makes an offended sound at that. “You thought I’d sleep with him?”

And now it’s Karasu’s turn to be offended because what the fuck? He might not believe he’s anything special but he sure as fuck ain’t the worst lay someone could ever have either! Perhaps Chigiri sees the offense on his face because he’s quick to back track.

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, yes, I would sleep with you, just not on the first date.” Karasu shrugs but takes that as a win. It hadn’t even been his intention anyway. “And if you would fuck off, maybe I would kiss him!”

Karasu doesn’t even have time to be flustered or shocked by this revelation, because he registers the look on Otoya’s face and internally groans. Poor Chigiri doesn’t even know what he just started with that one.

“Prove it,” is all Otoya says in response.

Karasu’s only known Chigiri for a little over an hour. Maybe two hours, he isn’t entirely sure. But that was more than enough time to learn that he’s just as competitive as he is. And he’d already determined that he’s smart, too. So it’s really no surprise that he hears the challenge in those two little words just as clearly as Karasu does. And yet, Karasu is still shocked to watch those magenta eyes narrow before locking onto him, dipping to his lips, and then— Holy fuck, is he leaning in? Is he actually going to kiss him?

Karasu’s eyes snap shut and he leans forward to meet Chigiri’s lips only to get quite the surprise when instead of feeling a smooth, plush mouth against his, he feels— soft, fluffy… hair? He blinks his eyes open in confusion just to see the back of Otoya’s head, the kiss having been intercepted by Otoya himself. For a brief moment, Karasu thinks about adjusting his position to have a better view, but then he remembers it’s his date Otoya is kissing. Karasu’s eyebrow twitches and Chigiri notices at the same time as Karasu is delivering a swift slap to the back of Otoya’s head.

“You asshole!” Chigiri complains, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand in disgust. Otoya huffs in a way Karasu knows means he’s laughing.

“Oi! That shit ain’t funny. I outta—”

Something. What, he isn’t sure, because Otoya’s turned around and now his lips are on Karasu’s and holyfuckingshit.

Otoya might be straight and Otoya might say they’re just ‘bros,’ but Karasu has never claimed either. He has thought about kissing his best friend. Multiple times, in fact. But he always shoved those thoughts away because they were stupid and risky and—

Never anything like this.

But that’s wrong. He’s on a date with another guy and cannot be kissing Otoya right now, so he shoves him away.

“Fucking hell, ‘Toya!”

Otoya just looks smug and extremely pleased with himself. “There. Showed you how to do it. Now it’s your turn.”

Karasu wants to argue some more but a flash of red crosses his vision and then he’s being kissed again and-- holy shit can everyone stop throwing him for a loop? He hates being this far out of control but oh. Oh, Chigiri was competitive alright. Where Otoya had kissed them both closed-mouthed, Chigiri steps it up a notch, his tongue immediately swiping along Karasu’s lower lip to which he happily grants entry.

He thinks he likes Chigiri, however shallow that feeling might be after one afternoon of knowing each other. He likes him and he likes kissing him and he’s annoyed as fuck that he can’t be sure he would have worked up the courage to do so if it weren’t for fucking Otoya. Chigiri is cute and takes no bullshit and Karasu can't explain it but he doesn't think dating him would feel like much of a chore at all.

Karasu’s fingers card through loose red hair and he’s just about to lose himself in the kiss when he hears someone clear their throat. Based on the annoyed lilt to it, he can assume it’s not Otoya, who’s most likely thoroughly enjoying his show.

Fuck. Shit. Right. They’re in the middle of a museum. Or, well, a theater room inside a museum, so far fewer people, but still people. Karasu pulls back, muttering an apology without even looking to see who’d caught them. Chigiri whips around, and Karasu’s sure his quick tongue is about to hand that poor unsuspecting individual the lashing of his life. Otoya is also opening his mouth, most likely to say something crass. So before either of them can say a single incriminating words, Karasu quickly gets up, grabbing the wrists of both guys and dragging them from the room.

He stops in the hall between exhibits, shoving Otoya away from him. Otoya. Stupid, annoying, beautiful fucking Otoya. He's been ignoring his feelings for that asshole for years now and he doesn't much appreciate being toyed with, so he lets his frustration out with no restraint. 

“Alright, asshole, we kissed. Ya wanna fuck off now or nah?”

Karasu doesn’t know why he asked. “Nah,” comes the expected answer.

“Then me and Chigiri are leavin’.”

Karasu turns towards his date to see amusement on his face where there’d previously been annoyance. “I don’t know, Karasu. He’s growing on me.”

Otoya whoops and Karasu pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Ya can’t be serious.”

Chigiri latches himself onto Karasu’s arm, pressing a kiss to his cheek that makes him feel all warm. “You’re kind of cute when you’re annoyed and Otoya seems to do a good job of that.”

“Hell yeah I do. It’s fun,” Otoya agrees, following suit and grabbing onto Karasu’s other arm the same way Chigiri is. He also tries to kiss Karasu’s cheek, but Karasu turns away from it. He's not getting off the hook that easily, not matter how damn cute he might be right now. Karasu's still fucking mad at him.

“You’ll teach me?” Chigiri bats those stupidly long eyelashes and neither Karasu or Otoya has any kind of strength to deny him, he knows that much without even having to look at his best friend.

Otoya recovers first. “Yeppers!”

“Say that shit one more damn time—”

“Do you two share a dorm?” Chigiri asks, interrupting before the two of them can resume their bullshit.

“Yeah,” Karasu mutters, elbowing Otoya’s side hard before he can utter another fuckass ‘yeppers!’

Chigiri hums. “Take me back there.”

And he’d literally just said he won’t fuck on a first date, but Karasu’s still a guy. Or perhaps horny ass Otoya’s thoughts are bleeding into his subconscious because of the way Otoya’s latched onto him. Whatever the case may be, Karasu’s thoughts are immediately in the gutter. He splutters a bit before nodding.

“Yeah sure. This way.”

People are staring at them as they walk towards the exit. He’s entirely aware of the weight of their gazes as three college guys in their early 20s walk through the museum, the bulkiest and tallest of the three sandwiched between the… twinkier… two. He knows exactly what it looks like, but he also doesn’t have an ounce of shame. If what Chigiri is implying… if what Otoya just fucking did… was any indication of what Karasu can actually have…

Fuck. He didn’t want to date at all and yet here he is, with not one, but two possible boyfriends hooked onto his arms. And doesn’t that just sound extraordinary?