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trifiesta · 2 years

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Trifiesta 2022, Day 1: Formal

Summary: It’s a special occasion, so Yokozawa decides to surprise Kirishima. The only problem now is to not get cold feet.

The day had passed like many others before; the steady stream of a river, smooth and reassuring for someone who enjoyed routine as much as young salesman Henmi Kazuma.

Henmi had always been a rather simple man. In fact, most of his ex-girlfriends had deemed him “too plain” and the very last one even went as far as calling him “boring”, right before shutting the door right into his face. It hurt at the time, but mostly because of the derisive tone she used. He knew that he wasn’t the most interesting person on earth, but he had other qualities!

For example, he was observant. Which was how he knew that his boss, Yokozawa Takafumi, had an outfit problem today.

As a very talkative person, Henmi often struggled with keeping his mouth shut and his nose out of other people’s business. He ended up in trouble more than once because of this, especially with Yokozawa-san who loathed nothing -except maybe Onodera-kun from Emerald- more than to share any kind of personal information with his coworkers. The only way for any of them to have a peek into his private life was through Kirishima Zen, the editor-in-chief of Japun, which was as fruitful as it was dangerous, and for some reason, Kirishima-san was the only one who managed to get forgiven in less than an entire month.

Henmi stole a quick glance over his laptop towards his boss. The man was focused on his work, like always. He was tapping at a fast pace, only looking away from the computer screen to flip through the datas that Japun’s young part-timer had brought some time ago. His dedication to his work was part of the reasons why Henmi admired the man so much, even if he often worried about Yokozawa-san pushing his own limits too far. Henmi had warned his boss about it many times, but his remarks were rarely heard and even more rarely considered.

Today was one of those days when he would have reminded Yokozawa-san that it was already 6PM and that whatever amount of work he had left could wait until the following Monday, but today was obviously a special day for his boss. This morning, he had arrived in one of his many dark suits that he always wore in the office. He also had an extra bag with his suitcase, but Henmi had learned not to pry about this kind of thing, and he knew that the bags were often for Kirishima-san’s young daughter whom Yokozawa-san was very close with. Nothing strange there. But then, during the afternoon, the older salesman had left for his usual 4PM smoke break, taking the mysterious bag with him. Henmi had been curious, of course, but he was already late with his work so he resolved to find out later.

Later ended up only 15 minutes after Yokozawa-san first left. The older salesman had come back with long strides, scolding his subordinates and shouting orders, in a gorgeous expensive-looking blue and grey formal suit. Everybody in the office had been left speechless, mouths hanging open as the famous Wild Bear passed them to reach his own desk. If he noticed their astonished eyes on him, he pretended not to very successfully and promptly got back to work. He would offer no explanation.

At the moment, Henmi was trying to ignore the insistent gazes of his colleagues. He really didn’t see why they were all so convinced that if he was the one to ask, he’d get in less trouble than them. If they stopped staring at him like that, maybe they would notice that it was not a good day to disturb their boss.

There was obviously a problem with his suit. It was subtle, but Yokozawa-san kept fidgeting on his seat and rolling his shoulders as if he was stretching after a marathon.

Then, he did it again.

One of his hands left the keyboard to find the collar of his impeccably white shirt. Two of his fingers hooked around it, pulling it away from the skin below as a grimace of discomfort pierced through his ever-serious face.

Henmi wished he had better control over his mouth. Maybe if he had, he could keep himself from saying things that get him in trouble.

“Ate one too many cakes with Hiyori-chan, have you, Yokozawa-san?”, he let out jokingly.

The young salesman’s smile slowly died as the office went dead quiet. Yokozawa-san had stopped tapping, his fingers now immobile above the keyboard, and his piercing grey eyes were digging holes in Henmi’s skull.

“Are you saying this suit makes me look fat, Henmi?” the man asked with a surprisingly neutral tone.

Poor Henmi wanted to jump out the window as it would probably be a far less dreadful fate than what was coming, and judging by the light spasms that shook his boss’ left eyelid and quickened with every passing second, he better do it quickly.

Henmi stumbled on his words as he replied: “NO! Of course not, Yokozawa-san! By looks alone, no one could guess that you put on weight!”

There was a collective gasp and he shrank into his seat.

“I m- mean, you seem so uncomfortable in that suit, so-”

Slowly, the head salesman rose from his chair, the width of his tall figure emphasised by the declining sunlight in his back as he towered over the terrified Henmi. The seconds were long as Yokozawa-san took his time gathering his things and tidying his workspace with a face that revealed nothing of his current thoughts.

With his suitcase in hand and coat on, the man grabbed the pile of files that was sitting on his desk and, making his way to Henmi’s, stopped right behind his subordinate before loudly dropping the pile onto the keyboard.

“Thank you for volunteering, Henmi. I want this completed by Monday at 8AM,” he casually announced, his chilling gaze on Henmi. “Everybody, enjoy your weekend.”

And with that, Yokozawa-san left.

The office was quiet like a graveyard, and Henmi wished it was one, because that would mean he’d be dead and wouldn’t have to spend the next 4 hours processing data. And also, maybe, that he would finally be able to shut the fuck up.

~~~

Yokozawa strode down Marukawa Publishing’s halls like a bride fleeing from the wedding shop after trying on too many dresses.

He may have looked composed when he left, but there was actually a hurricane inside him that threatened to annihilate his whole plan for the evening.

Why was Henmi always so obliviously spot on? Well, he was wrong about the suit being too tight, but his capacity to notice the smallest change of behaviour, the tiniest detail in Yokozawa’s manners that showed through his carefully crafted facade of aggressive professionalism, was unnerving.

The elevator led him to the fifth floor, and his steps to Japun’s office.

The atmosphere was very different from the other times Yokozawa had been there. Most of the editors had gone home already, leaving the floor in a calm atmosphere that only a beginning of cycle could allow. Yokozawa wasn’t used to such a peaceful ambiance since he would usually come around here during Hell Week to retrieve some late documents or to yell about angry printers and deadlines. If he was honest with himself though, it was mostly to get the chance to see his boyfriend for a bit, that time of the month often preventing them from spending time together, and he knew that Kirishima enjoyed his impromptu visits as much as he did.

Kirishima was at his desk, and Yokozowa stopped at the corner of the door to admire the man. It was rare for the cocky editor-in-chief to wear formal clothes –his “cool single father” persona only required a pair of jeans and some half-buttoned shirt after all–, but when he did, it always made Yokozawa’s mouth dry and his cheeks heat up. Kirishima looked like a prince. He could almost see the man on horseback, with a charming smile and a hand stretched out towards him.

The grumpy salaryman shuddered violently at the mental image his mind had created. A chill of disgust ran up his spine and he quickly pinched himself to chase this disgustingly embarrassing thought away. This damned asshole really brought out the most shameful part of him. What was he? A lovesick schoolgirl?

Yokozawa teared his gaze away from his lover and retrieved his phone from his pocket, typing rapidly on the screen. He looked up as Kirishima’s phone buzzed twice on the desk and watched as the other man checked the device.

As soon as he saw the warm smile on the handsome face, Yokozawa turned on his heels and headed back towards the elevator to go down to the underground parking lot. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep a stupid grin from taking over his mouth.

Inside the elevator, the salesman finally relaxed. So much, actually, that he didn’t even notice his own hand reaching his collar and pulling on it.

When Kirishima finally joined him near the car, Yokozawa did his best to look as casual as possible. He even managed to look annoyed by the appreciative up-and-down look his lover gave him.

“Fuck, Yokozawa…” Kirishima nearly moaned, “Maybe we should skip dinner and go straight to your place.”

He only received a death glare, as well as a bark to hurry up and get in the car before they ended up late for their booking. The older man laughed but did as he was told.

On the way there, Yokozawa prayed silently that Kirishima would not notice how much he shifted in his seat. He felt hot and he did his best to keep himself from drying his sweaty hands on the expensive fabric of his pants. The stress and the discomfort made the ride interminable.

Ten hours, or maybe ten minutes later, they were at the restaurant.

The dinner went smoothly. Kirishima had booked a nice table in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city, and the booth they were in allowed some degree of privacy that was more than welcomed.

Throughout the evening, the tension in Yokozawa’s body was gradually replaced by a pleasant warmth and he even laughed at some of his lover’s terrible jokes.

Kirishima behaved like a true gentleman. Sure, it was insanely embarrassing for the prideful Wild Bear to have someone pull his chair for him and ask the waitress to taste the wine before it was served. However, he couldn’t deny that Kirishima’s gaze being visibly unable to detach from him more than a few seconds, even to speak to the waitress, was worth a small pride wound.

And if he noticed Yokozawa’s squirming on his chair, he didn’t say a word.

Ultimately, their romantic one-on-one dinner was a success, and when the foot that had been rubbing at his ankle for the past half-hour started to climb up his calf to reach the inside of his knee, Yokozawa concluded that it was time for them to leave.

Kirishima met no opposition from Yokozawa when he paid the full bill, and they went out into the dark, cold night that the beginning of Spring hadn’t warmed up yet.

They spent the ride from the restaurant to Yokozawa’s apartment in a comfortable silence. After such a perfect date, Yokozawa felt uncharacteristically bold. Without a word, he joined his right hand to Kirishima’s left one and entangled their fingers over the gearshift.

The other man’s eyes went wide as he threw a look in his direction, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he smiled and softly squeezed the salesman’s fingers between his own.

Opening the door to the apartment proved to be a challenge. Yokozawa had difficulties finding the right key with Kirishima glued to his back, mouth travelling along his neck and hands already fumbling with the buttons of his vest.

“For god’s sake, will you let me open the fucking door?”

Kirishima giggled and Yokozawa felt long fingers travel downwards and grab the buckle of his belt.

“Come on, I’ve been a good boy all evening,” Kirishima breathed against his nape,

“You have no idea how hard it was to have you right in front of me looking like that and not jump you right away.”

The younger man shivered, his breath caught in his lungs.

As soon as the door finally unlocked, Yokozawa was pushed inside by the weight of his lover and shoved against the nearest wall. The door was abruptly shut by a kick from Kirishima, then he was on Yokozawa again, forcing his mouth open with a practised move of his tongue.

There was no reason to resist at this point; they both knew the night would end with this and to be fair, Yokozawa was expecting it. He let his lover ravish his lips as his arms wrapped around the other’s neck. Their tongues rolled together in a choreography they both knew by heart. Kirishima’s legs parted his and he rubbed their groins together. Yokozawa moaned at the new sensation; it felt so different from the other times and his face burned at the knowledge of why it was so.

Shivers ran down Yokozawa’s spine, expanding in his limbs until it became difficult for him to stand straight.

Kirishima put an end to their feverish kiss, licking his own lips, and the hands that were feeling up Yokozawa’s body travelled to grab the soft piece of cloth around his neck and pull on the meticulous knot. It quickly fell on the floor.

“I must say, it’s a shame that I have to get you out of this suit.” Kirishima murmured in a voice filled with desire as his fingertips grazed the buttons of Yokozawa’s collar. “You really look amazing…”

However, when the first button was popped open by his eager lover, Yokozawa’s hands moved instantly to grab Kirishima’s wrists.

“Wait.”

Kirishima ceased all movements. He seemed confused at first, and Yokozawa could feel his eyes searching for answers in his own. The salesman made an effort to breathe deeply before speaking, but of course, it only turned Kirishima’s confusion into worry.

“Hey, are you alright? Do you feel sick?” he asked, trying to reach his lover’s cheeks with his hands.

But Yokozawa held his wrists firmly in place, although his hands were slightly shaking, and shook his head.

Inside, the fire was taking over. There was no backing down now, he knew it, but acknowledging what he had to do and actually doing it were not on the same level of difficulty. He heard the other exhale softly.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do it,” Kirishima said with a reassuring smile, though a tinge of disappointment was distinguishable in his voice. “I already had an amazing evening. You even toned down the tsundere, for once, and seeing your face as you tried not to bite my hand when I swiped that sauce from your cheek was just too g-”

His sweet speech was cut short by a hand on his mouth.

“Can you never shut up?” Yokozawa grumbled. “If I didn’t want it, we wouldn’t be here.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Just keep your mouth shut and follow me.”

Kirishima’s eyebrows had raised so high they had disappeared behind his brown locks, but soon enough Yokozawa felt the lips under his hand move into what was evidently a cocky smile. Kirishima didn’t try to talk after that, even when Yokozawa retrieved his hand, and he let himself be guided to the bedroom.

As soon as the door was opened, Yokozawa yanked on Kirishima’s wrist and threw him on the bed face first. The older man huffed and rolled on his back with a laugh, at which point Yokozawa straddled his lap. He didn’t bother switching the light on, leaving the room’s lighting to the goodwill of the moon, and she seemed to want Kirishima to enjoy the spectacle fully.

Kirishima’s breath was heavy and punctuated with short chuckles. “Oh my, you’re really outdoing yourself tonight!”

“I have something for you.” Yokozawa said.

Then he started opening his shirt. He took his time to pop one button after the other, his eyes never leaving Kirishima’s face.

No turning back now. It was time to show that prick what he was capable of.

And it was a delight to see that smug grin rapidly disappearing and giving way to something else.

At first, curiosity, confusion.

Then it was stupefaction.

Kirishima laid there, motionless, as the white fabric of his lover’s shirt was moved away to reveal the black lace underneath.

Yokozawa kept going, offering more to Kirishima’s eyes. The choker around his neck was connected to the rest of the set by a thin strip in the middle of his torso; the bra was partially see-through and decorated with stitched florals; the strip continued down the stomach and disappeared behind the ridge of his pants.

Yokozawa left his jacket and vest fall on the floor behind him. His shirt slid down from his shoulders and stopped at his elbows, mimicking the model he had seen on the ad that gave him this crazy idea.

He stopped, and waited for Kirishima’s reaction.

The wait rapidly became too long for his liking, though.

He expected Kirishima to say something, or rather, to do something. Like turn them around to rip off his pants and fuck him into the matress, for example.

Instead, the great editor-in-chief of Marukawa’s best selling magazine, the most sought-after man in the office, the charming single-father who raised his daughter mostly on his own… was staring at his chest like a dead fish.

Yokozawa started to panic. All his confidence jumped off the boat in an instant, leaving only this invasive feeling of shame that he had been repressing all evening. His old insecurities crawled back into his mind.

Of course Kirishima would be turned off by such a view. Yokozawa was far from looking like one of those gorgeous models that could make anything look good just by wearing it. And he was a man. What appeal could be found in a man wearing lingerie?

He hadn’t felt this boulder in his stomach in a long time.

Convinced he had ruined their perfect date, Yokozawa pushed on his thighs to move away. However, he stopped abruptly when he felt something rub against his crotch.

He looked down to find a consequent bulge deforming Kirishima’s pants.

The words escaped his lips before he could even think, “You’re hard?”

Kirishima’s head shot up, disbelief painted all over his face. “Of course I’m hard! How could I not be hard?! Have you seen yourself?”

“Well, I- I just- But you didn’t say anything! I thought you were- Wait. Are you blushing now?”

“I was surprised! I never thought you’d do something like that!”

Kirishima’s attention dropped back on the black lace in front of him.

“Not that I’m complaining, though.” He added with an appreciative smirk. “I’m so, so far from complaining. And, by the way, if you could resume the show, that’d be great cause I really need to see what’s hiding under there”

The last sentence was emphasised by Kirishima’s hand on Yokozawa’s clothed erection. The gesture sent a shot of pleasure through Yokozawa’s body and he groaned. It made Kirishima laugh.

Yokozawa straightened up on his knees. In seconds, his belt was on the floor and his zipper open. His fingers slid under the fabric of the pants and pushed them down little by little, enjoying the look of anticipation the other man gave his lower parts.

The pants fell on his thighs, uncovering the black panties. In the same fashion as the bra, they were partially see-through, but only on the side: the front remained hidden behind a piece of dark silk, though the form of his hard cock left no place for imagination. Yokozawa saw Kirishima bite his lower lip. He pushed the pants down more to free his thighs, which also freed the clips of the bands that helped maintain the last two pieces of the set.

Kirishima emitted a low moan when he saw them.

“Fuck, Takafumi,” he said, admiring the stockings with hungry eyes. “You’re going to kill me.”

Yokozawa grabbed his lover’s hands and brought them to his legs. “Would you shut your big mouth for once and just touch me?” he demanded, guiding the hands to caress his body. He then smirked, “Or maybe you’re scared you won’t be able to keep up, old man?”

Their eyes locked, and Yokozawa knew he’d made a huge mistake.

A moment later he was on his back under Kirishima.

He didn’t know how, but Kirishima somehow managed to get rid of all of his clothes in a matter of seconds. Before Yokozawa could fully comprehend what had just happened, Kirishima was back on him, devouring his mouth. Yokozawa tried to turn them over again in hope of regaining the upperhand, but Kirishima’s lustful daze had been fully broken now and he used his whole weight to keep the salesman down.

“Don’t say you didn’t ask for it, Takafumi,” Kirishima whispered in his ear while slipping a hand inside the back of his lover’s undergarments.

Yokozawa didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his legs around his lover’s hips and licked his swollen lips.

“Happy anniversary, you jerk.”

~~~

Yokozawa was lying on his stomach, exhausted, as the sunlight started to pierce through the closed curtains. By his side, Kirishima, in a similar state of fatigue, was searching for the wet tissues in the nightstand.

“Bottom drawer,” Yokozawa said with impatience. “It hasn’t moved since last time.”

“But I haven’t been there in months, how could an old man like me remember where things are?”

Yokozawa groaned, “Ugh, don’t tell me you’re gonna give me shit for this. We both know I was jok- ah!”

The sudden contact between the cold wet tissue and the burning skin of his thigh made him tremble. Kirishima chuckled at the reaction as he gradually made his way up Yokozawa’s leg, taking his time around the curve of his boyfriend’s ass.

The pieces of lingerie had been discarded a couple hours ago, around the 3th or 4th round. Yokozawa had tried to remove it himself, but Kirishima had insisted on doing it.

To be fair, the ensemble was already halfway off: the middle strip had been detached so Kirishima could push the bra up to suck on Yokozawa’s nipples and the panties were hanging off one of his knees. Kirishima had detached the fasteners of the choker and the bra before sliding them off Yokozawa’s chest, then he simply pulled down the panties. As for the stockings, they stayed on for a couple more rounds before Kirishima removed them with his mouth, seizing the opportunity to lap and bite at Yokozawa’s inner thighs.

The only remaining proof of Yokozawa’s boldness was a black pile of lace at the foot of the bed and the red mark that the choker had left around his neck.

“I’m just saying, it’d be much easier if you moved in with us already.” Kirishima replied as he got up to discard the used tissues.

“We already had this conversation. You know we can’t do that.”

Kirishima climbed back in bed and bounced behind Yokozawa, whining, “But, why? You already spend most nights at my place, you practically live there already! We’re both responsible adults and if last night is any proof, our relationship is going pretty well.” He then placed his arms on each side of Yokozawa’s face to lift himself up over him, forcing the other to roll on his back. “Hiyori would be so happy if you lived with us for good.”

The last sentence earned him a glare from his lover, “I can’t believe you’re using your daughter to get what you want from me. Have you really no shame?”

“It’ll benefit her too so I’m sure she won’t mind.” Kirishima grinned cheekily.

Yokozawa frowned. “Shit, I shouldn’t indulge you. I give you an inch and you take a metre.”

Something in Kirishima’s eyes lit up, sending an alarm blasting in Yokozawa’s head.

“Oh, but you should have told me it was a problem of taking inches, Takafumi. I’d be happy to give you mine,” he said, approaching dangerously.

“W- Wait! I never said anything about- Hey! Stop that right now! How can you still have energy?!”

Yokozawa grabbed Kirishima’s wrists firmly and managed to switch their positions, pushing the cocky prick down into the mattress.

Kirishima chuckled again, “Whoah, Takafumi! If you wanted to take the wheel you should’ve just said so!”

Yokozawa’s scowl deepened and he felt his cheeks burn, but he didn’t let go of Kirishima’s wrists. “I’m tired and that’s entirely your fault, you jerk! So stop using my given name and let me sleep already!”

There was a long silence during which the two men just looked at each other.

Suddenly, Kirishima’s expression became serious.

“I’m not joking, Takafumi.” he declared, “Geez, I know it’s my fault for pushing you around all the time, but I’m serious here. I know we’re jumping some steps, but it’s not like that’s new for us by now!” He paused. Yokozawa wondered if he was embarrassed, or maybe was the editor-in-chief searching for his words? “I just want to wake up by your side for the rest of my life.”

Taken aback by the man’s honesty, Yokozawa’s hold on Kirishima loosened, offering the perfect opportunity for him to roll them over again. They were both breathless now, on their side, facing each other with only a few inches between their naked chests.

“Just give up already, we’re not gonna leave you alone until you give in anyway.” Kirishima grinned.

It took several seconds for Yokozawa to recover and answer, “You’re a pain in the ass…”

“You couldn’t have found anything less romantic than that to answer.”

“… so you better prepare yourself cause I’m not gonna become your housewife.”

With that, Yokozawa turned and prepared to sleep. Behind him, Kirishima was audibly stunned.

“Wait, it means what I think it means, right?!”

The only response he got was a groan.

“I… honestly didn’t think you’d say yes so fast. And here I thought I could have some weeks of fun harassing you until you gave in! You’re spoiling my fun, Takafumi.”

It was useless to get angry now, it would only encourage him. “Fine, forget it, I’m not moving from here.”

Kirishima settled behind him and his arm circled Yokozawa’s waist. The younger man felt the other’s lips on his nape, giving a feather-like kiss to the skin.

“C’mon, I’m kidding! I’m just so happy, I can’t help but want to tease you a bit.”

In the comfort of Kirishima’s arms, Yokozawa couldn’t help but feel his consciousness slip away.

In the last moment before he drifted off, he added, “I’ll still be sleeping in the guestroom, by the way.”

The outraged “WHAT?!?” that his lover let out was lost in the wakes of his slumber.

-The end-

I’m sooooo late with this but it’s not like it’s my first time lol! I hope that it’s worth the wait! Big thanks to @rosesweetchild for beta-reading this story! See you soon (if I manage 6^6) You can find this fic on AO3 too! It’s called “Laced Formality”

@trifiesta

#yokozawass fan account #writing #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima zen #henmi

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trifiesta · 2 years

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Day 3 - June 14th - Babysitting/Rings for @trifiesta week

((To this day I still think about their matching rings from the amusement park))

#ask kirishimazen #day 3 2022 #kirishima zen #yokozawa takafumi

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trifiesta · 2 years

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Day 2 - June 13th - Work/Field Day for @trifiesta week ((Wouldn’t it be romantic if we met by the vending machines for our coffee break 👉👈 ))

#ask-kirishimazen #day 2 2022 #kirishima zen #yokozawa takafumi #sorry for the late reblog for some reason this didnt show up in the tags for me!

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trifiesta · 2 years

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Day 1 - June 12th - Glasses/Formal

For @trifiesta week! ((A little late but better than never !))

#ask-kirishimazen #day 1 2022 #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima zen #drawing #trifiesta

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trifiesta · 2 years

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Happy Trifiesta!

Day 1 — Glasses/Formal

Keep reading

#la-guilty #day 1 2022 #glasses #formal #kirishima zen #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima hiyori #art

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trifiesta · 2 years

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Trifiesta 2022 Prompts

Hello! From June 12th to June 18th, we will be holding Trifiesta once again to celebrate the birthdays of Kirishima and Yokozawa!

We have some new prompts this year and some repeats. Feel free to interpret each theme as you see fit. Like the past few years, any art form is acceptable. This includes but isn’t limited to art, writing, and graphics!

Day 1 - June 12th - Glasses/Formal

Day 2 - June 13th - Work/Field Day

Day 3 - June 14th - Babysitting/Rings

Day 4 - June 15th - Free Prompt/AU

Day 5 - June 16th - Kirishima’s Birthday

Day 6 - June 17th - Cuddling/Touch

Day 7 - June 18th - Yokozawa’s Birthday

To submit your entries, you can either post it to your own blog or submit the post to the blog (specify which day you are entering for if you do so.) If you post your entry to your own blog, be sure to:

Mention our blog ( @trifiesta ) in the post

Tag it #trifiesta in one of the first five tags of the post

Please spread this post around so we can get good participation!

#Sekaiichi Hatsukoi #sekai ichi hatsukoi #trifiesta #kirishima zen #yokozawa takafumi #prompts #2022

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trifiesta · 3 years

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Trifiesta Day 4: Free Prompt

Summary:

Kirishima is late to pick up Hiyori from her ice-skating class and get to meet her very strict and grumpy -and hella cute- bear-like teacher.

~~~~

Kirishima Zen was running like the devil was on his tail, except that he was rushing toward much worse than that: a very pissed little girl who was probably going to murder him.

Kirishima knew it would only be fair, he was nearly an hour late after all. He should have known better, it was not his first end of the cycle nor the first time he had to pick Hiyori up from some after-school activities that he had previously agreed to let her take and then completely forgot about. Hiyori had to quit multiple times because of that, even so she always said she was getting bored of it anyway. Kirishima felt really bad about that. Hell, was it his fault if his daughter was so resourceful?

Well, yes, probably.

The rink finally appeared before his eyes as he slowed down to take his breath right before the set of stairs. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the buildings of the city when he started to run up the steps and the shadow allowed his mind to wander. Although Hiyori was always excited to try something new, this time she had seemed even more motivated than usual. She had not stopped talking about the rink and the ice-skating competitions and the new ice-skating class she had heard about from her friend Yuki that was coincidently held by her now-retired favorite ice-skater FOR AN ENTIRE MONTH. And of course, Kirishima being a doting -and desperate to give his hyperactive daughter something to unload her energy on- father, had accepted to let her try it out, even though the rink was nearly an hour away from their apartment. Needless to say he had some regrets at the moment.

Kirishima entered the building with ruffled hair and his jacket wrinkled, but his appearance was not really his principal worry as he finally saw the very object of his thoughts. The little brown ponytail was bouncing around as Hiyori was speaking energetically with a tall man next to the counter, and she was so caught up in the conversation that she did not notice him. The man, however, saw him as soon as he stepped in.

Kirishima felt a shiver cross his entire body when their eyes met and the man frowned deeply. His gaze did not shift as he moved forward to place himself between Kirishima and the girl, crossing his arms over his chest in a clearly menacing posture. Kirishima was caught off guard and nearly backed down, it was like facing an angry mama bear protecting her cub -which was honestly kind of adorable-, except the cub was HIS so there was no way he would let anyone get between them.

Kirishima was one step away from the other man, ready for the confrontation that was sure to come if he believed the irritated twitch on his opponent’s face. The man had just opened his mouth when…

“Daddy, you’re late!”

Hiyori got around the stranger and jumped into her dad’s arms, then immediately proceeded to scold him. The tension in Kirishima’s body vanished. Despite the late hour and the tiring exercises he was sure she had had to do, his daughter seemed as energetic as when he had left her this morning. He smiled as she took a step back to look him up and down.

“And what happened to you? You look like you’ve been caught in a storm!”

At the comment something clicked in Kirishima’s brain and he looked up. As he had thought, the other man’s behaviour had changed: his arms had left his chest to hang on each side of his hips, his once stiff shoulders were more relaxed now and his frown had softened, but his face had also reddened and he was slowly shifting from one foot to the other, avoiding the father’s gaze.

Was it embarrassment that Kirishima perceived here?

“Daddy?”

Kirishima was brought down to earth by Hiyori’s worried voice and he felt a light blush invade his cheeks. He redirected his attention back to the little girl, but it was too late: Hiyori had caught him red-handed. Her smile was almost threatening.

“I totally forgot, but you two have never met before, right?” She took his hand in hers as she was speaking and pulled him forward. “I’ll make the presentations!”

When Kirishima looked up, he was directly facing the stranger, who still refused to meet his eyes. With her free hand, Hiyori gently grabbed the man’s wrist as if to prevent him from running -Kirishima wondered if his daughter had noticed the discomfort that the poor guy was emanating- and smiled at them successively.

“Yokozawa-sensei, this is my dad! Daddy, this is Yokozawa-sensei, the ice-skating teacher!” She squealed happily.

The stranger -Yokozaw-san- finally turned his gaze in his direction and the two men stood there, facing each other in silence for a moment. The name sounded familiar to Kirishima and he had a brief flash-back of countless evenings listening to Hiyori’s unstoppable flow of compliments and praising words about some guy she was a big fan of named Yokoz-.

Oh! The ex-ice-skater-now-teacher thing!

He felt his usual grin make its way to his mouth and he bowed slightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Yokozawa-san. My Hiyori can’t stop talking about you all the time recently so it feels like I already know you, you’re almost part of the family.”

“Daddy!” Came the indignant cry of his daughter, red as a beet.

“Come on, my little rasberry, no need to be shy now!” Kirishima’s tone was teasing as he gently pinched her cheek.

The cheek in question was soon blown out, “You’re so embarrassing!”

A repressed laugh rang in the room and both of the Kirishimas nearly snapped their neck as they looked up towards its origin but when the two pairs of eyes found Yokozawa’s face, the man had already gone back to the stern expression he seemed to always wear. Kirishima was surprised when he realized he regretted missing Yokozawa’s laughing face.

“Nice to meet you too, Kirishima-san.”

The man’s bow was far more professional than his. Kirishima could not help but to take the chance to observe his counterpart: dark black hair, tall although still one or two inches shorter than himself, broad shoulders, strong arms, narrow hips and wow, those were some impressive thighs right here, maybe he should watch the championships with Hiyo next time. As Yokozawa straightened up, Kirishima looked up -not the time to be caught checking out his daughter’s teacher.

“I’m sorry Yokozawa-san but we should go now or we’ll miss the train.” He heard himself say.

“Oh, yes, of course. I didn’t mean to retain you.”

But despite those words, neither of them made any move to leave, both waiting for the other to go first, until Hiyori, who had opened her bag and was going through her stuff, breathed a displeased sigh.

Both men turned their attention to the little girl. “Is there a problem, Hiyo?”

“I forgot Yuki-chan’s bracelet in my locker, the one she gave me for my birthday…” The little girl pouted.

Kirishima opened his mouth but Yokozawa was faster, “I haven’t closed the locker room yet so you can go get it if you want.” Then the young man must have taken Kirishima’s surprised face for consternation because he stuttered, “I mean, if it’s okay with your father of course.”

Kirishima’s gaze went from Yokozawa to Hiyori to Yokozawa again and finally settled on Hiyori -who was looking at him with the biggest pleading eyes he had ever seen- and he smiled at her, “Of course, we’re not late yet so one or two little minutes are no big deal!”

The little girl immediately bolted from the room -probably to the locker room- as she thanked her father loudly. She disappeared behind a door.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Kirishima turned his attention back to Yokozawa and he felt his heart skip a beat at the view: the strict looking man was smiling to where Hiyori had just left and his smile was sweet and his eyes soft and for the first since forever Kirishima was out of words.

But not for long.

“So… You took me for some creep, huh?”

The smile was gone in a second, replaced by an annoyed pout as Yokozawa blushed and frowned once again -Kirishima was starting to think that the frown was part of his resting face- and turned towards him.

“You can talk! What kind of parent arrives an hour late looking like some weird guy?!” Yokozawa spat.

Then anger gave way to panic on the teacher’s face and Kirishima assumed he had realized what he had just said to one of his students’ parent. His hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to find something to say was just too much for Kirishima and despite his best efforts, he could not hold it in any longer.

Kirishima bursted out laughing.

“Oh my god!” Kirishima managed to say between two fits of laughter, “ You should see your face right now, it’s priceless!”

Anger was instantly back. Yokozawa was clearly outraged now.

“YOU-”

“I’m back!”

Hiyori hummed happily as she closed the door behind her but she soon stopped in the middle of the room, her eyes going back and forth between her chuckling father and her very red teacher.

“What were you doing, you two?” She asked, then turned a severe face towards Kirishima, “You weren’t annoying Yokozawa-sensei, right Dad?”

Ouch, if she called him ‘Dad’ it meant he was in trouble.

“We were simply discussing, Kirishima-kun, don’t worry.” Yokozawa interrupted, and Kirishima heaved a sigh of relief. “Your father was apologizing for being so late.”

The bastard!

Hiyori frowned in his direction, “I completely forgot but it’s true! I told you several times that practice ends at 7!”

“Sorry, sorry, I got caught up with work.”

Hiyori sighed, “It’s okay, it’s not your fault after all…”

Kirishima knew what was going through Hiyori’s head at the moment and he did not like it. He was very aware of how much it meant for Hiyori to take this class and he hated the idea that she might have to give up yet another activity she loved only because of him.

“It won’t happen again, Hiyo, I promise.” He said softly.

“But you can’t be sure you won’t be stuck at work again, Daddy…”

A heavy silence took place as Kirishima tried to find some reassuring words to cheer her up, but nothing came.

“Hum, I’m sorry to interrupt but…” Yokozawa’s voice made Kirishima remember where they were.

“Sorry, Yokozawa-san, we won’t bother you any longer. Come on, Hiyori.”

“No! I mean, wait!”

Kirishima really hoped Yokozawa was not going to give him a lecture again because he was already pretty upset and he did not think he would be able to stay polite much longer. He turned towards the man as he was looking at Hiyori, his eyebrows frowned but Kirishima perceived no anger in his expression. Yokozawa faced him once more.

“If it’s okay with you, Kirishima-san, Hiyori can stay here with us after practice. I mean, when you can’t get out of work in time.”

For a second, Kirishima wondered if the man was joking, but Yokozawa did not seem like the type of person to make that kind of cruel jokes -or to make jokes at all, to be honest. His expression was serious, almost solemn, and Kirishima would have totally teased him if he was not busy considering the proposition. It would be perfect for him: he could finish his work without worrying about Hiyori’s whereabouts and well-being and Hiyori could pass the time doing something she loved under the supervision of a reliable adult.

“But, Yokozawa-sensei, I don’t want to bother you! You must have other things to do than look after me!”

Yokozawa offered her a reassuring smile, “Aikawa-san and I are used to staying here until late, she let me practice and in exchange I help her clean up, so there’s no reason to worry, I assure you.”

Hiyory let out a little hopeful gasp as she turned her face towards her dad. Kirishima pretended to think about it, but Yokozawa’s gravity and his daughter’s big brown eyes had already convinced him.

“Well, if Yokozawa-san proposes it himself, I see no reason to reject his offer.”

Hiyori danced for joy and hugged her father -as well as Yokozawa-san who jumped at the sudden attack- with all the strength she had in her little arms before running out of the rink to scream her happiness at the world. Both watched her jump around behind the glass-doors and they shared a chuckle. Then Kirishima turned to face Yokozawa.

“Thank you,” he said and this time his grin was not teasing, “you’re really getting me out of a hard situation.”

Yokozawa put his hands before his chest. “It’s okay, no need to thank me. Work is work, it can’t be helped.” And despite his visible efforts to act like it was nothing, Kirishima had seen the slight blush on his face.

The two men exchanged their phone numbers -Kirishima had to remind himself that it was only in order to arrange Hiyori’s schedule when necessary- and said their goodbyes, then Yokozawa turned on his heels -oh my, the thighs are not the only impressive part- and left through the same door Hiyori had disappeared behind earlier. Kirishima stepped out of the rink and joined his daughter down the stairs. She grabbed his hands, the little bracelet tingling around her wrist as they made their way towards the station.

But something was still bothering Kirishima.

“Say, Hiyo…”

“Hm?”

Kirishima grinned.

“Is Yokozawa-sensei single?”

~The end~

I wanted to do this for sooooo long, trifiesta week was the perfect opportunity! Beta-reading by Cammie, as always <3!

@trifiesta

#yokozawass fan account #day 4 2021 #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima zen #kirishima hiyori #fanfic

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trifiesta · 3 years

Text

Trifiesta Day 2: Karaoke

Summary:

Henmi drags everyone to a karaoke. Yokozawa is reluctant, of course, but his boyfriend convinces him to give it a try.

~~~~

Yokozawa regretted his decision as soon as they arrived.

Kirishima, on the other hand, seemed ecstatic like a child in a candy store.

“It’s a bad idea…”

“Come on, Takafumi, it’s gonna be fun!”

The use of the first name got Kirishima an elbow in the stomach as well as a seat on the opposite side of the room from Yokozawa, between Yasuda -good- and Takano -not good. For his part, Yokozawa ended up on the far end of the couch so his only companion was Yukina -Yokozawa still wondered how the poor student had been dragged into Henmi’s childish plans, though he was pretty sure that the baby-faced guy seated on the other side of Yukina had something to do with it- and the young man’s height reminded him of how ridiculous nine grown men in a karaoke bar must look. However, Yokozawa had to admit that successfully reuniting all of them, especially Hatori and Yasuda and himself, was pretty impressive. Only Mino managed to escape.

Yokozawa had meant to decline Henmi’s proposal, he really had. Then Kirishima had appeared out of nowhere with his shit-eating grin and handsome looks and when he had agreed on his behalf, Yokozawa had found himself unable to object.

He had become weak lately.

“Whoah, I didn’t know they have so many songs here!”

“Yes, they even have anime theme songs! Ah, I worked on this one!”

“Really?! I loved it so much, you did such a great job!”

Yokozawa’s irritation grew, although he should have called it: of course this airhead Henmi would get along with Onodera, of all people. He sank a little more into the sofa.

“I want to try this one first!” Henmi shouted happily as he grabbed one of the microphones at their disposal.

“It’s a duet, Henmi-san, you’ll need a partner.” Takano stated right before he pushed Onodera from the couch, the young editor almost crashing into Henmi, “I’m sure Onodera will be very happy to sing it with you.”

Happiness was not exactly what shone through his voice, “Takano-san! Please don’t assume things on my behalf! A- And I can’t sing, anyway!”

Takano shrugged, “What’s the problem, Onodera? You should be more grateful to Henmi, he’s a fan of your work after all.”

Did they really need to flirt right here in front of everyone? Onodera grimaced.

“Don’t worry, Onodera-san,” Yukina interrupted with his usual sun-like smile, “It’s a karaoke bar, I’m sure no one here can sing!”

Yokozawa started to wonder if the mic’s cable would be strong enough for strangulation and who would go first -Onodera, Kirishima and Henmi or himself?

It was Henmi who gave him the final blow, “Please, Onodera-san, if I sing alone I will look miserable in front of everyone!” He pleaded with a pout.

Everyone laughed and Onodera finally agreed to take the mic Henmi had been shaking under his nose for the past minute, not without a red face and a death glare in Takano’s direction.

Henmi was about to press play when they heard a knock on the door and Hatori stood up to open it on one of the staff members. The young woman asked if she could bring them anything and an amused grin crossed her features when she saw all of them in the little room, but it promptly disappeared giving way to a commercial smile. Yokozawa felt himself blush, an embarrassment he seemingly shared with his past-rival who looked like he was about to melt and explode at the same time. They ordered some alcohol and she left, and Yokozawa was sure he had heard a giggle as Hatori went back to his seat and Henmi nearly pounced on the play button.

Yokozawa sighed: it was going to be a long evening.

—

The evening had turned into a full night and it was not a pretty sight.

Henmi and Onodera had opened with a horrible love song that they had sung terribly, which wasn’t really a surprise but still, and among the thirty-seven other songs that had been sung after that thirteen were by Henmi alone, four by Kisa, three by Kirishima and two by Onodera. Yukina, Hatori and Yasuda each sang one solo but Takano abstained from it, although he did sang two duets with Onodera -both cheesy love songs that made Kirishima smile at him with what was probably unconditional love and had Yokozawa considering jumping out the window- and another one with Hatori. Kisa had succeeded in dragging Onodera into three duets, then a trio with Henmi first and Kirishima next, and then he sang with Yukina -they had started to suck each other’s face in the middle of it and were making out on the sofa since then- but not before the young art major and the newbie editor had the chance to sing together. The whole Emerald team had joined at some point to try -and fail- to sing along the Power Ranger theme song. Kirishima and Yasuda had then followed with an awful cover of an english song about girls wanting to have buns -or something like that, Yokozawa had been too busy watching Kirishima’s happy face to really get the lyrics.

Of course, all of them had sung off-key.

That is where they were now: everyone was at least a little tipsy, at worst dead drunk, Hatori was taping furiously on his phone, Yukina and Kisa were still kissing right next to Yokozawa, Takano was listening to Onodera’s drunk mumbling while Henmi was drunkenly nodding to everything despite probably not understanding a word, Yasuda had fallen asleep and Kirishima…

“Hey, Yokozawa, you haven’t sung anything tonight.”

…had decided to drop a bomb, apparently.

Henmi immediately jumped on his feet and for a second it seemed like he was sober again but his laborious attempt to deliver a full, coherent sentence was good proof that he was only one step from alcohol poisoning. After a couple of seconds he gave up and simply threw one of the mics on Yokozawa’s lap while giving him the puppy eyes.

Yokozawa may have become weak, but not that weak to indulge Henmi so easily.

It was mostly the alcohol’s doing, as well as a deep desire to distance himself from the lovey-dovey couple next to him -and maybe he wanted just a little to be the reason for Kirishima’s smile- that made him take the device firmly in his hand and stand up.

“ONE song, then I’m leaving.”

Henmi squealed happily as Yokozawa searched for the remote to select his song. The young salaryman knew that time was of the essence because if any of his colleagues got his hand on it, he would be at his mercy, and he could already feel Kirishima and Takano’s eyes scanning the room enthusiastically.

“Oh, I got the remote!” A shout from the corner of the room made them all turn in one movement.

Kisa, who was still half-way on Yukina’s lap, was rocking the precious object between his two hands, a crazy evil smile covering his childish features.

And to think that Yokozawa thought it could not get worse.

“I think we have to honour the Wild Bear’s very unusual display of social skills,” Kisa giggled viciously, “so it must be a special song just for him. Luckily, I know exactly the perfect one!”

There was no time for objection and as Yukina gave him an apologetic look, Kisa selected the instrument of torture.

“It’s in english, but you work in sales, Yokozawa-san, so you must speak english at least a little, right?”

When Yokozawa recognized it, he cursed the god who made him incapable of turning down a fight. But here he was and it was too late to back down so he rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie, and he made sure to look directly into Kirishima’s eyes while doing it. He was satisfied by the blush that appeared on the older man’s cheeks. He even saw Yasuda, who had probably been woken up by Kisa and Henmi’s mess, nudge Kirishima’s shoulder with a smirk.

Good, at least Kirishima was tasting his own medicine.

The instrumental began to come out of the speakers in the room. Yokozawa breathed deeply, then he opened his mouth.

“There are worse things I could do…”

The room went silent instantly. Onodera’s babbling had stopped and so had Hatori’s angry texting and all the chats and the laughs. Yokozawa tried to ignore it.

“Than go with a boy or two…”

They were all looking at him now, he could feel their gaze on the back of his head.

“Even though the neighborhood thinks I’m trashy, and no good…”

Fuck! Stay focused, Takafumi!

“I suppose it could be true, but there are worse things I could do!”

No movement, no sound, only Yokozawa, standing up in the middle of a karaoke room like an idiot and singing a stupid musical tune.

Courage, it’s almost over.

“… I don’t steal and I don’t lie, but I can feel and I can cry! A fact I’ll bet you never knew…”

There it comes.

“…That’s the worst thing I could do.”

The music slowly died and Yokozawa found himself surrounded by silence. Several seconds passed without anyone saying anything and it was all the time the man needed to gather his things, grab his jacket and reach the door.

“I’m leaving now. Thanks for the invitation Henmi. Good night.” And he was out.

Yokozawa strode the halls as fast as he could without looking like a rabbit running away from the wolves, that is until he heard the sound of a door opening behind him and he practically ran out of the building. The streets were deserted at this hour so he allowed himself to let the deep blush he had repressed until now invade his face. He could not believe what he had done, and in front of all his colleagues no less! Yokozawa prayed that the alcohol in their veins would erase their memory because he was pretty sure none of them would leave him alone after this horrendous display of ridicule. He was screwed.

Then he heard someone shouting “Wait for me, Sinatra!” behind him followed by kick footsteps. Yokozawa picked up the pace as much as he could without blatantly running but the man chasing him had the advantage of longer legs and a way more calm mind at the moment, and so he ended up in a dark back alley with his back against a cold brick wall and a foreign tongue caressing the roof of his mouth. The arms holding him were gentle, he could have gotten rid of them easily, he did not.

Their kiss was interrupted by a group of teens on the other side of the street when one of the girls jokingly yelled at them to ‘get a room’. Both of them giggled softly, like some teenagers caught making out in an empty classroom. Kirishima tightened his embrace around Yokozawa’s torso while hiding his face against his neck, gently nuzzling the soft skin of his throat.

He giggled again, “You never told me you could sing like that.”

The sound Yokozawa made sounded more like a moan than the groan he had intended to release. “I don’t have to tell you everything.” He paused for a second. “You would get bored.”

Kirishima laid kisses all the way to Yokozawa’s mouth, giving the latter a pleasing shiver, before joining their foreheads softly. “With you? Never.”

Yokozawa was aware that his expression was probably disgustingly sweet at the moment but, with the deemed light of the street lamp and Kirishima’s scent all around him, he could not care less.

“Come on, let’s go home!” Kirishima exclaimed, then he leant to whisper in his lover’s ear, “There are other sounds I want to get from you tonight.”

Yokozawa was drunk and definitely in the mood, but it did not mean Kirishima could do everything he pleased and he quickly pushed him away and got back on the main street, Kirishima’s laugh following him.

Yokozawa stiffened when he felt fingers caressing his palm and intertwining with his but he did not say anything nor tried to get his hand free. He must have been more drunk than he thought.

“I hope you’ll let me hear you sing again, your voice was really sexy back there!”

Yokozawa blushed again but a warm feeling in his chest made him simply squeeze his partner’s hand as they walked along.

His voice was almost soft when he told Kirishima to go die.

~The end~

Shorter than the first one but it was meant to be this way. All Hail Cammie for her beta-reading, ily!!

@trifiesta

#yokozawass fan account #day 2 2021 #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima zen #henmi #fanfic

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trifiesta · 3 years

Text

Trifiesta Day 1: Movies

Summary :

Yokozawa and Kirishima have been in the industry for quite some time already and have been friends since the early years of Yokozawa’s career. However, Yokozawa is worried : he knows Kirishima well, which means he KNOWS that sooner or later, his friend will realize the way Yokozawa has started to look at him. Afraid of losing the people he’s grown to love so much, Yokozawa starts distancing himself from the Kirishimas…

~~~~

“Thank you for your hard work. I look forward to working with you.”

“So do I! Please, be careful on your way home!”

Yokozawa put on his best professional smile as the director bowed energetically in all directions like an over-excited puppy. His agent had told him that she was a big fan of his, but he couldn’t have imagined HOW MUCH of one she was: the middle-aged woman had looked at him all evening long, squirming every time he just happened to set eyes on her. She had also agreed with every proposition he had made regarding his character, exclaiming that she would talk to the scenarist as soon as possible while writing everything down like her life was at stake. Yokozawa was not an easily flattered man but he had to admit that it was quite pleasant to be the object of such passion.

He would have gone to talk to her privately at the end of the meeting to thank her personally, had he been in better spirits.

But he wasn’t, and so he simply offered her a smile and a bow before getting out of the room, soon tailed by his agent.

“Yokozawa-san! Everyone is going to get a drink to celebrate the beginning of filming! We should go too!”

Yokozawa felt the first sincere smile of the evening working its way across his face as he felt the fresh night air against his skin. It was already the end of August, but the temperature was late to drop and being seated in a closed room with thirty other people for hours was sure to cause an excess of heat.

“Using me as an excuse to go drinking is low, Henmi.”

“I- I wasn’t!” Henmi stammered with panic, “I just thought it would be a great occasion for you to get to know the rest of the cast!”

“I already know most of them from previous works and I’ll get to know the others later.”

While talking, Yokozawa had crossed his arms against his upper chest. Henmi and him had been working together for several years now, so the young agent knew the man pretty well: arms crossed on the upper chest meant that he would not be convinced to change his mind. Henmi sighed. Yokozawa’s features softened.

“But maybe YOU could go get a drink with them. You’re my agent after all, it’s your job to make my work easier, and someone has to tell them I have other plans tonight that I cannot overlook.”

As Yokozawa expected, Henmi instantly beamed with joy. He thanked him three times before disappearing inside the building again.

It was Yokozawa’s turn to sigh as he finally started to make his way to the parking lot. The day had been long. Yokozawa had always taken his job seriously from the very beginning of his career. Every day, he was the first actor to arrive on set and the last one to leave, and the days he didn’t have any scene to shoot, he would come anyway and spend all his time rehearsing his lines and help the younger members of the crew to rehearse theirs and making sure they were comfortable with all their scenes. Of course, it had been difficult at first owing to his rather strict temper and the everlasting scowl that inhabited his face. His coworkers were often afraid of him and wouldn’t talk to him for all the gold in the world. But things had slowly changed, and even though it was hard to admit, it was in large part the making of his constantly happy agent who was determined to make Yokozawa one of the top actors of the country. As soon as they had started working together, the ambiance around Yokozawa had changed for the better. Yokozawa suspected that seeing someone like Henmi interact with him every day without being torn apart like a ragged doll helped a lot. Then, of course, the changes in Yokozawa’s behaviour probably helped too, but those were not the making of Henmi…

Yokozawa’s mood worsened, if it was even possible, and he slammed the door of his car shut before finally allowing himself to breathe. He knew he shouldn’t think about him, but how could he not?

Kirishima Zen, number one actor of Marukawa agency and elected “Man you would want to date the most” three years in a row, had taken more and more space in his life over the years to the point that Yokozawa couldn’t spend an hour without thinking about him. The two of them had met several years earlier when Yokozawa barely had a career yet. Kirishima was already a big actor back then despite his youth and he had quite a lot of experience, something Yokozawa had lacked, but the older man didn’t seem to care about that. He cared, however, about Yokazawa’s rigid attitude and the shortness of his young temper. The man passed the time by poking and teasing Yokozawa until he would lose said temper and shout in a fit of rage, then ten minutes later Kirishima would suddenly be nice and give Yokozawa advice on his acting. This behaviour had confused the younger man, but he got used to it and by the end of their shared filming, they had become good friends. Yokozawa had even been lucky enough to meet the adorable little Hiyori, Kirishima’s daughter who he was taking care of alone since his wife’s premature death.

Years had passed, Hiyori had grown up into a resourceful elementary schooler, and Yokozawa and Kirishima had grown closer and closer until becoming each other’s closest friend. Yokozawa had helped look after Hiyori, Kirishima had listened to his drunk complaining when the guy he was in love with finally rejected him fully: that’s how it was between them and Yokozawa was perfectly pleased with that. But of course things just had to become more complicated.

It happened very slowly, or so it seemed to Yokozawa because he clearly didn’t see the signs before it was too late to back up and run away from the tragedy waiting to happen. One evening, three months before, it had happened. Kirishima and Hiyori had been bickering in the kitchen and they were smiling and laughing, and then Kirishima turned toward him -probably to seek his opinion on the matter at hand- with this cheeky smile that Yokozawa knew he only ever showed to him, and the realization hit him, and it hit hard. He found himself in a lack of words that made both Kirishimas stop in their tracks. Hiyori had asked him if he was okay.

He had said ‘yes’.

He wasn’t.

Because he knew that love. It was not a blooming, sweet and temporary love, it was the fully established, impossible to return or exchange kind of love.

It had scared Yokozawa.

Those were very serious feelings and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them easily -the Masamune disaster was a good proof on that matter- but most importantly, Kirishima was observant and sharp and honest and if Yokozawa had finally understood his own feelings, Kirishima was undoubtedly close behind in the realization race. Little to say, Yokozawa was screwed.

So he had done something he’d usually never do, he had run away.

So Yokozawa had spent the last three months avoiding his friend in the most subtle way he knew, which is to say he urged poor Henmi to find him as much castings, interviews and recordings as he could and used them to reject every offer Kirishima made, whether it was to come to his apartment or to go for a drink. Of course he felt bad about it, especially since Hiyori sent him texts asking if he was okay and when he would “come home” almost every day. It broke his heart to make the little girl worry, but what could he do? After all, if Kirishima learned about his feelings, Yokozawa would probably never get to see either of them ever again, so it was best for the three of them to stay apart a little longer. Just long enough for Yokozawa to get rid of this stupid love.

He could do that. He WOULD do that. Because he had no other choice.

Yokozawa was brutally taken back to reality when he heard voices approaching from the outside. He hadn’t realized he had dozed off. He looked up and through the windshield he saw the crew members -and Henmi, of course- walking down the street, probably going to find some place to drink together. He made himself as little as possible in the driver’s seat. Yokozawa waited until they were out of sight before starting his car and getting out of the parking lot.

He really needed to stop thinking about him.

—

Sorry, can’t come today. Too much work.

Yokozawa wondered how many times he could send the exact same text before Kirishima would start to figure out that something was wrong. To be honest, he probably already had, but the older man had yet to make any comment about it, so there was no reason to change strategy. A banging at the door made him put his phone quickly back in his bag.

“Yokozawa-san! They need you on set!”

At least he could drown himself with work.

—

Yokozawa had seen the text too late to avoid the disaster. He had spent his day practising fencing for a role in a fantasy show -he wasn’t a big fan of fantasy, but work was work and he needed as much as possible- and had left his phone in the depths of his bag, which is why he hadn’t thought about checking it before changing clothes and heading out.

Which is why he hadn’t seen Krishima’s text. The one that said that Henmi -this traitor- had told him where he was and when he would be done, and that he would come to pick him up after practise.

Which is why he was currently hiding in the bathroom.

Yokozawa really felt like he had touched the bottom of something this time; whether it was ridiculousness or his own dignity, there lied the mystery.

So there he was, back against the door of one of the stalls, hoping Kirishima would think him too prideful and decent to go take refuge in the bathroom like a middle schooler who just got rejected by their first crush. Well, now he really felt pathetic.

The vibration of his phone in his hand startled him and he nearly squealed. His heart was beating like crazy already, but when he saw Kirishima’s name on the screen he felt like the organ was going to burst out of his chest and run away. His hands became shaky as he felt and watched his phone vibrate again and again between his sweaty fingers. His eyes were fixed on the name and he waited for it to finally disappear. When it happened, he counted to ten in his head before opening the text app and typing frantically.

Hey. Sorry, I was in the shower. What did you call me for?

The response was almost immediate.

I’m at your fencing lesson, waiting for you! I’m here to pick you up, as promised my wild gummy bear!

Yokozawa was about to type again when he received a second text.

You should have told me you were going in the shower, I would have come with you! ;)

His jaw clenched violently.

I’m sorry, I’ve just seen your text. Practice has ended sooner than expected so I got home already.

This time, he didn’t receive anything right away and minutes passed slowly in his quiet stall. Then…

Ok, another time then.

When Yokozawa got out of the bathroom stall thirty minutes later, he avoided his reflection in the mirror.

—

“You MUST be kidding me, Yokozawa!”

“I told you: I have WORK! I’m busy right now!”

Yokozawa should have seen it coming. Kirishima had never been someone to just let things go.

“Yes, YES, I KNOW! You’re sooo BUSY! All the time! You’ve been saying the same things for months now!”

Yokozawa pinched the bridge of his nose as he could feel all the muscles in his body getting more and more tense with each passing second.

“It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose, okay?! It just happens!”

What a fucking joke.

“It’s CHRISTMAS for God’s sake! I can’t believe you got yourself busy on Christmas! Hiyori was so excited to see you, she even got you a present on her own! ”

The mention of Kirishima’s adorable daughter made Yokozawa feel even more guilty than he already felt. He could deal with an upset Kirishima, it wasn’t the first argument they ever had, but knowing that his actions made the little girl sad was something he couldn’t bear.

“I… I’ll try to find some time in january. I have things to give her too anyway.”

“Fantastic. So you’ll try, huh? Like you tried to come for Halloween? And for the summer picnic and the festival and our goddamn birthdays? Fuck, Yokozawa, you’re supposed to spend all of those times with us and-”

Yokozawa snapped.

“AND WHY WOULD I WANT TO SPEND ANY OF THOSE WITH YOU?!”

…and immediately regretted his words. He did want to spend all of those events with them -with him-, he just couldn’t, not right now when these stupid fucking feelings would ruin everything they had spend all those years to build.

There was no sound on the other side of the line for what felt like hours to Yokozawa, and he started to think Kirishima had simply left or thrown his phone through the window. Then he heard the sound of a long exhalation.

“Takafum-”

No. Not his first name.

“I’m getting back to work, don’t call me again.”

And with that Yokozawa hung up and threw his phone on the opposite side of the couch. He was weak at Kirishima calling his first name, and the man knew that, and with his current state, one word and a sweet voice would have sufficed to make him spill out everything.

Yokozawa felt a tingling sensation in his nose as his eyes became wet. A sob tried to make its way out but he held it back. He wasn’t going to allow himself to cry.

Instead, he grabbed his phone again and made sure to turn it off for good, then he stood up and made his way to the kitchen: maybe some cooking would calm him down.

—

Cooking didn’t do shit for him.

So here he was, at five in the morning, watching Kirishima’s latest interview for some TV drama which plot he didn’t quite get -not that he cared much, if Kirishima had accepted the role it was probably pretty good anyway. Yokozawa felt pathetic.

“Kirishima-san, your acting skills are really impressive! You’ve really outdone yourself this time!”

“Why, thank you Aikawa-san, I’m happy you enjoyed it.”

The man really knew how to talk to women.

“The romantic scenes were definitely the best ones, you really seemed madly in love with your partner! It felt so real!”

“Well,” Kirishima laughed, “I simply imagined that it was the person I’m in love with in front of me, and there it went!”

The interviewer nearly jumped off her seat. So did Yokozawa.

“Could it be?! You have a partner Kirishima-san?! That is quite the news!”

For some news, it was very new indeed! How come Kirishima didn’t tell him about this? They had been best friends for nearly a decade, and they had talked about their -disastrous- love lives multiple times, so how did he not know about his friend’s “lover”? Not that Yokozawa was jealous, after all he never hoped that anything could happen between the two of them, but he had at least hoped that Kirishima would have told him about him getting a girlfriend even though he wasn’t really in place to talk about honesty in the matter of love.

For a second, Yokozawa wondered if Kirishima was talking about his deceased wife, but he quickly rejected the idea: the widower rarely talked about her, and NEVER to anyone outside of the family circle. Except for himself.

He suddenly realized something, went to the bedroom and opened his computer. He couldn’t believe that he had been so caught up in his work that he didn’t even heard about any of this nor checked the tabloids. He rapidly typed the words “Kirshima Zen” and “lover” and was rewarded with dozens of articles about Kirishima’s ‘mysterious lover’ which all offered their own theories about who was the lucky one. Yokozawa saw various names, mostly famous actresses and models with whom his friends had worked, but also some actors and producers and a bitter laugh escaped his throat when he read his name on the screen. He slammed the device shut and went back to his previous location on the sofa.

“And who is it, Kirishima-san? Is it someone we know?”

“I’m afraid this part has to stay a secret, Aikawa-san, because I fear my beloved would not like to have me screaming their name everywhere I go!”

They both laughed, and a part of Yokozawa wanted to too.

“…They already seem angry with me right now, so I better behave!”, and Yokozawa could distinguish the bitterness in his friend’s laugh.

“It’s unfair, Kirishima-san, you said too much or not enough!”, Aikawa pouted.

“I think I can at least tell you that they are a lot similar to the protagonist of the show.”

Aikawa instantly brightened up, sitting at the edge of her seat. A weak smile appeared on Yokozawa’s face as he remembered how Aikawa used the exact same interrogation technique on himself multiple times during interviews. The woman was to be feared if you had anything to hide.

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“Well, the protagonist is someone with a very strong, strict and prideful appearance that tends to push other people away, but when you get to know her, you realize that she is so much more than that. She’s brave and she stands her ground, and sometimes she gets angry and loses her temper and she attacks people, but deep down she’s only afraid of hurting them if they come too close, you know? She thinks she’s unworthy, she doesn’t see why anyone would want to be with someone like her… She doesn’t see how gentle and caring she is, how trustworthy she is, how people around her are attracted by her smile because it’s so sincere and real and…”

It was brief, so brief that Yokozawa wasn’t sure if he really saw it or if it was his imagination, but for a second the young man had had the impression to see sadness in his friend’s eyes. But Kirishima was a professional, and he would never let his mask of the perfect guy slip in public, not to mention there was no reason to be sad at that moment.

“…rare. I think you can say the one I love is very much like that too, like a wild gummy bear, so it was pretty easy to shoot those scenes because it was easy to imagine them right in front of me.”

Yokozawa paused the video. The shock of seeing Kirishima so… sincere, in an interview, had rendered his breath difficult and his mouth dry. It was too much for him to endure: did he know his friend so badly? How did he miss so much? Then it occured to the young man that maybe, just maybe, things might have changed between them over the time of six months of separation. So many things can happen in six months; one could meet someone, fall in love with them and know great changes in their own character. Perhaps Yokozawa, in his hurry to distance himself from his love for Kirishima, had in fact distanced himself from his friend more than could ever be repaired.

At that very moment, Yokozawa finally realized that he had done with his own hands the exact thing he feared would happen if he stayed near the Kirishimas: he had lost them.

The young actor couldn’t remember the last time he had cried for real, for himself and not for a camera, but at that moment the tears that were running down his face were undoubtedly real. He had been a blind fool, and here came the price for it. His limbs slowly began to tremble, his chest was shaken with spasms as his lungs struggled to inhale and exhale at a normal rhythm, his vision became blurry and he could hear himself let out pitiful moans that he had difficulties with repressing. Yokozawa felt like a back hole had formed into his stomach. He had never known such a desperate state in his entire life, and here he was now, sobbing frantically and moaning like a little child, and he hated himself even more for it. He hated himself for everything.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sudden loud sound startled him enough for his butt to slip off the sofa and he ended up on the floor, but it also brought him back to reality. He checked his watch: 01:10. Who the fuck would bang at a door like that at one in the morning? If one of his neighbours waited for someone, they could have at least warned them to NOT attack their door like some wild animal! Another violent banging resonated in his apartment and he finally realized that it was definitely coming from HIS door, which meant someone was currently attacking his front door at one in the morning and possibly waking half the neighbours. Yokozawa was on his feet a second later to rush to the door. He was obviously very aware of the pathetic state he was in and how it probably was written on his face with the red eyes and the tears, therefore this unexpected and rather uncivil visit only turned his desperation into frustration and anger.

“Who the fuc-?”

Whatever the end of his sentence may have been, he forgot it on the spot.

“Good evening, Takafumi.” Kirishima said between two heavy breaths.

The older man was out of breath, disheveled and slightly shaking. The light scowl on his face deepened as soon as their eyes met and he immediately reached a hand to touch Yokozawa’s face. The shock was probably what prevented the so-called “Wild Bear” to move as he felt his friend’s fingers caress his cheek, following the path left by the tears rolling down his skin.

But shocks always pass.

Yokozawa slapped the hand away and retreated, “It’s past one in the morning, Kirishima! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

The concern that had appeared on Kirishima’s face vanished, leaving what Yokozawa perceived as anger which scared the younger one a little; sure he had seen Kirishima angry before and he knew he would have been scared if it had been with him, but it never had been. Irritation, yes. Anger? Never.

“Can’t I come see my best friend in the whole world?” Kirishima’s tone was his usual way of talking, but something seemed off. “After all, I haven’t seen him for SIX MONTHS despite living thirty minutes from one another!”

“Stop fucking with me! I’m tired so just say what you came to say and leave, please.”

Yokozawa could feel the headache coming and he was already too tired for this crap, not to mention Kirishima’s interview still on his TV screen and how there was no way the man would pass up such an occasion to make fun of him.

“If you keep screaming like that you’ll get in trouble with the neighbours.”

“Who’s fault DO YOU THINK-?!” Yokozawa took a deep breath, “Whatever, hurry up and go!”

Kirishima put his hands in the pockets of his jeans but showed no sign of leaving.

“I have a lot to say so you better just invite me in quickly.”

“What the-?! You come here without warning in the middle of the night and you expect me to invite you in?!”

“I did tell you.”

“And when was that?!”

“I told you Christmas is something you’re supposed to spend with us.”

Yokozawa was left speechless as Kirishima offered him a genuine smile.

“Anyway, thanks for having me!” the older man hummed while pushing past him into the entryway.

“Wha- WAIT! Kirishima, don’t-!”

Too late. Yokozawa followed his friend into his living room as fast as he could, only to find him staring at the screen with eyes the size of a plate. The young actor’s face felt like it was on fire.

“It’s… I have a good explanation.” and Yokozawa secretly hoped he would find it very soon.

Kirishima crossed his arms and turned toward him with a brow raised.

“Oh really? Because I’m very curious as to why you’ve been avoiding me for months like you don’t want to see me at all, but somehow watching me talk shit on TV is okay?! And why were you crying while watching that crap?!” Kirishima grunted, “God, Takafumi, what’s wrong with you?!”

Yokozawa had to admit that the bottom he previously thought he had reached was apparently not as far as he could dig for he had fallen even deeper now. In a way, he wished that to be literal. But the young man had never been one to back away from a fight, and he would certainly not let Kirishima make a fool of him, not this time.

Yokozawa fixed Kirishima in silence, holding his gaze with all the pride he could muster and for a second he touched the tiniest hope that this would be enough for the other man to give up and go away… Kirishima moved, and Yokozawa’s hopes were instantly crushed as his friend stepped right in front of him.

“Takafumi-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“That’s your name.”

“That’s my first name! Who said you could be so familiar?!”

Their faces were an inch away, their breath blending together. Kirishima was a few inches taller and to Yokozawa it felt like the man was looking down on him, almost mocking him. It only exacerbated his anger. He looked right into his friend’s eyes, his scowl deepening: if it was to become physical, he was ready to fight… Until he saw a reflection in those eyes, the one of his own irritation and anger, and he felt sick. He finally woke up, realizing how disastrous everything was going this evening and how fighting with the man he was in love with was the complete opposite of what he wanted, and for the first time in his life, Yokozawa Takafumi backed down. He looked away, lowered his head and retreated by a few steps, putting some distance between their tense bodies. Kirishima watched, astonished, as he slowly grabbed the remote and turned off the TV before turning around and striding in the direction of the bedroom.

“Yokozawa!”

He stopped, hand on the handle.

“I came because I’m worried about you.” He paused, “You don’t come home anymore and Henmi told me you bury yourself with work. I- I just-”

“I’m in love with you.”

Yokozawa hadn’t meant to say that. He had thought about something more like “Leave me alone” or “Go fuck yourself” and he was pretty sure it would still have had a better outcome than whatever was coming now. He kept his gaze fixed on the door in front of him, waiting.

“Are you… serious?” Kirishima’s voice sounded more dumbfounded than disgusted, and that made Yokozawa enraged.

“Do you think I would fucking joke about that, you bastard?!” He shouted as he faced Kirishima without looking at him, “I’ve been trying for MONTHS to get rid of those stupid feelings but I just can’t stop thinking about you all the fucking time! Do you even realize how frustrating it is to try to work when all I can focus on is you?! I hate it! I hate YOU!”

Yokozawa was now panting, whether it was from the intensity of his shouting or of his confession, he didn’t know. He only hoped it would make Kirishima leave.

Kirishima kept quiet for a moment, a long moment. Yokozawa couldn’t muster the courage to lift his head and look at him, maybe because he knew that whether it’d be disappointment, anger or -worse- disgust, the expression on his friend’s face would be impossible to bear. He sighed.

“Now that you know, you can leave.”

Once again, Yokozawa turned on his heels, but he didn’t get the chance to take a step before a hand grabbed his wrist in a gentle but firm grip.

“Let me go–I told you to leave.”

“Leave? You really think I’m gonna let you run away after saying cute things like that?”

Kirishima’s fingers slid slowly on his wrist, caressing the skin. Yokozawa tried to yank his hand away, to no avail.

“Stop joking around! You really think it’s the time for your stupid shenanigans?!”

“I’m not joking. And to be honest, I’m kinda hurt that you think I’d treat flirting with you as a joke.”

It was Yokozawa’s turn to sound dumbfounded as he looked up, and right there on Kirishima’s face he found the sweetest smile he had even seen on those handsome features. “Flirt- Flirting?!”

“For God’s sake, Yokozawa, I’ve been flirting with you for YEARS! Don’t tell me you really believed I was joking?! Tss, no wonder you never flirted back! And here I thought you hated me…”

The younger man could feel his cheeks burning. Could any situation be more embarrassing than this?

“It’s your fault! You flirt with women all the time, not to mention I’m a guy! How was I supposed to know you were serious about it?! Besides, you already love someone else!”

Kirishima’s smile faded into incredulity. “What are you talking about?”

“In the interview! You talked about the person you love!”

“But- You- I was talking about YOU, you big idiot!” Kirishima cried out, and doing so he retrieved the remote from the couch and turned the TV on. Yokozawa had no time to do anything: Kirishima rewinded the tape and played it again.

“-gets angry and loses her temper and she attacks people, but deep down she’s only afraid of hurting them if they come too close, you know? She thinks she’s unworthy, she doesn’t see why anyone would want to be with someone like her… She doesn’t see how gentle and caring she is, how trustworthy she is, how people around her are attracted by her smile because it’s so sincere and real and rare. I think you can say the one I love is very much like that too, like a wild gummy bear, so-”

The words took a new meaning for Yokozawa. He remembered all those times when Kirishima -and sometimes Hiyori- would tease him about his grumpiness and how much of a mother he was with them sometimes. And this stupid surname. Kirishima must have read his mind for he rewinded again, just a little.

“-very much like that too, like a wild gummy bear-”

And again.

“-like a wild gummy bear-”

“I get it, stop that.”

And again.

“-a wild gummy bear-”

Yokozawa growled as he stepped forward to take back the remote from Kirishima’s hand, “I said stop- mph!”

Kirishima had been faster: letting go of the remote -that ended up crashing on the floor-, he had grabbed Yokozawa’s neck with one hand while the other sneaked up on his back and had joined their lips in the most passionate kiss. Yokozawa put his own hands on Kirishima’s shoulders, trying to push him away, but it was useless for the older man had always been the stronger one. Damn, the guy was good at this. As Yokozawa was slowly but surely swept away by the tongue that was caressing and dominating his, his arms lost their strength and he was left gripping at the biceps under his palms. When they finally separated, Yokozawa was feeling dizzy.

“Don’t… do that… so suddenly!” Yokozawa panted weakly, his legs shaking slightly.

His friend’s sneaky grin was irritating. “What’s the matter? You’re in love with me, I’m in love with you… There is no reason to hold back! Plus it’s not like it’s the first time we kissed, you remember?”

“It was a movie kiss, Kirishima.” Yokozawa stated bluntly.

“I do remember you putting some tongue in.”

“Ngh! I never did that- aah! What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!”

A hand had found its way inside his pants, massaging the side of a thigh as Kirishima breathed heavily in his ear.

“I guess I must mix up reality with my fantasies. Speaking of which, I would love to replay the part when I pressed you against that bed, but this time we’d both be naked.”

Yokozawa had managed to stop the adventurous hand but the tentative voice was waking up another part of his anatomy now, much to his chagrin. Of course, he had thought about that before during the rare times he would allow himself to fantasize about the two of them together, but he hadn’t done anything like that for a while and he wasn’t sure he could do it right away.

“You jerk! You nearly broke my arm that day, what’s exciting about that?!”

“You, wriggling to break free, your naked ass against my groin. And you could be more sympathetic, I’ve been masturbating to that for years just because you wouldn’t admit you love me!”

Yokozawa probably looked like a red light right now.

“You fucking pervert! How many times did you- You know what? I don’t wanna know.”

Kirishima laughed out loud, clearly not ashamed of his lecherous thoughts, but it felt so good to hear the man’s laugh again that Yokozawa couldn’t manage to be angry at the moment. When Yokozawa came back to reality, they were in his bedroom and Kirishima’s shirt had disappeared. Before Yokozawa could say anything, Kirishima pushed him on the bed and straddled his lap, rubbing their growing erections together, and the motion drew a low growl from the younger man.

Kirishima let out a giggle, “Well, it seems I’m not the only one to want this, huh?”

That man could be so irritating, even at times like this, and Yokozawa wasn’t going to let him treat him like a kid. With a hip check and a smooth roll, Yokozawa was on top. Kirishima exhaled with difficulties.

“Just shut up and take off your clothes, you bastard.” And with that he started to grind the bulge in his pants against Kirishima’s groin.

“I like when you’re bold like that.”

Kirishima dragged him down into a sulfurous kiss as his other hand found his belt.

They had months to catch up on.

—

When Yokozawa woke up, he felt like his whole body was buried in mud. He could barely move a muscle and the slightest breath sent shivers up his spine and pain down his lower back. He had no idea what time it was, nor how he ended up lying on his blanket on the floor, but the arm that clung firmly to his chest reminded him of many other things that would probably make him die of embarrassment. He could feel a steady, warm breath against his neck indicating that his partner was still soundly asleep.

Yokozawa took a moment to fully process everything that had happened the night before. How could he have imagined that his disastrous, self-pitying evening would end up with him riding the man he loved until he could no longer feel his legs? Not that either of them minded, Kirishima had taken matters in his own hands and flipped him onto his back to rail into him like there was no tomorrow. But there was a tomorrow, and Yokozawa was feeling it right now. The ache in his body made him look down to see if their rather passionate intercourse had left any bruises -that could become a problem if he had any slightly nude scenes to shoot-, which is when he came to realize that he was presently completely naked if not for his open dress shirt with nothing around to cover himself with. Yokozawa straightened himself as slowly and quietly as possible, hoping to make his way to the bathroom without waking up his friend -were they still friends after this?- from the arms of Morpheus. He was almost on his knees when a pair of arms -definitely not Morpheus’- circled his waist and yanked him back towards the floor, however it was not the floor he landed on.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t complain, you’re the one who made me fall!”

“I didn’t expect you to be so heavy- AÏE! That was mean!”

Yokozawa pinched his way out of Kirishima’s arms and a second later he was on his feet by the door. The older man straightened up on his elbows and grinned at him, looking him up and down with an appreciative hum. Yokozawa’s usual scowl was back.

“Come on, can’t we be lovey-dovey for a little longer?” Kirishima’s grin widened, “Though, I must admit I like when you’re all wild, like last night.”

Yokozawa’s face and neck were burning. “Shut up! And get up, Hiyori must be waiting for you at home.”

Kirishima’s expression became softer as he sat up, not bothering to hide his very awake manhood, which made Yokozawa look away as soon as he saw it.

“My, Takafumi, you weren’t so shy when you were on me last night, riding my-”

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

Kirishima laughed out loud, which only infuriated Yokozawa more.

“..Besides, I promised Hiyori I’d come back with you, so you better not make me lie to my daughter.”

“Wait… Don’t tell me you PLANNED this?!”

“I did plan to make up with you when I came here, but the whole ‘becoming-lovers-and-sexing’ part was a surprise -a very pleasant one, don’t get me wrong.”

When he heard the l-word, Yokozawa’s irritation was immediately gone. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from his… his what? Friend? Partner? Or…

“…Are we?”

“What?”

“Are we lovers now?”

Kirishima fixed him, his eyes and mouth wide open.

“Are you kidding me?! We both confessed! We made love four times in a row! Don’t tell me you want to pretend like nothing happened!” Kirishima seemed suddenly uncertain, almost panicked, “Or… do you?”

“No! No… I just… I come with a lot of baggage, and I’m moody, and petty, and I get jealous easily. Not to mention, it would be better for Hiyori to have a mother figure, someone she can look up to.”

Yokozawa was so caught up in his self-deprecating speech that he hadn’t noticed the danger approaching until two warm hands cupped his face. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at him.

“I’m your best friend, so it’s not like I don’t know what I’m getting into here, and I always accepted everything about you, didn’t I? You don’t have to change one bit. And let’s get one thing clear: Hiyori loves you and she already admires you -probably even more than me, which is kinda unfair, I’m her dad!”

A chaste kiss brushed his lips and he allowed himself to let go of his worries -at least for now.

“Oh, then maybe you’re right, she may love me more than you.”

Kirishima’s offended expression urged a giggle out of Yokozawa as he made his way to the bathroom.

For the first time in months, maybe years, Yokozawa felt light, like everything was going to be alright, like he had found where he belonged…

“Ngh! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TOUCHING, YOU-!”

… to his patience’s great chagrin.

~The end~

It took me some time but I’m finally done with that OS! I know I’m late, but at least I’m satisfied with the result! A big thanks to Cammie for her wonderful beta-reading! <3

@trifiesta

#yokozawass fan account #fanfic #day 1 2021 #yokozawa takafumi #kirishima zen

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