Archive of Our Own

You couldn't say that Hinata Hajime loved his work all that much, but he certainly didn't think it was bad. In fact, it was quite decent, and serving drinks was a talent that he'd discovered a long time ago. The Hope's bar – what a silly and deceiving name – was a well-known place with a nasty reputation to uphold. It was a rundown establishment, often frequented by the shadiest people imaginable, but Hinata hardly minded it. The unhinged bar-goers provided immense entertainment for the young bartender. The drunken fights – which he hated the most - and the stupid shit that constantly happened there, left an impression on Hinata that perhaps he wasn't so great at making the right life choices.

Then again, he's always been more of a late-night bird.

Working rigorous night shifts soon proved to be not as tiring as he had initially thought and his co-workers were quick to befriend him. The person in charge was an asshole, but he was kind enough - that is when and if he wanted to be. All in all, Hinata at least enjoyed working at Hope's, wasting booze on the all-too-willing customers, and getting to know people. Some of them were quite decent too and Hinata would be lying if he claimed that he didn't befriend some. And the others… well, he would rather not think about. 

Weird people with a bunch of problems hanging above their heads, perverts invested in trying to court him, stoners, and/or alcoholics. People who were searching for answers at the very bottom of their glasses, only to find none.

People who screamed trouble.

One night, Hinata notices the curious stare of a certain man who fits the 'troublesome people' description far too well, and that is where things start going downhill.

He doesn't know what catches his eye exactly. Maybe it's the mane of white-grayish hair, looking slightly red in the dim lighting of the bar - the tousled strands are unkempt as though their owner had long since given up on trying to tame them, stray hairs sticking out in random directions. Perhaps it's the green eyes, partially covered by a lean hand and watching him intently. There's just something about that look that sends electrifying shivers running up and down Hinata's spine. His palms dampen the slightest bit.

The stranger first appears on a busy Saturday night. He sits at the far end of the bar and doesn't pay Hinata any attention, nor does he look like he's really... present. Judging by the black bags beneath his eyes alone, Hinata deducts that the man hasn't slept in days.

Either sleepless or high, he assumes, because it isn't an unusual sight in this part of the town. The white-haired man nods off, gaze point-blank and unseeing. Hinata feels a sudden urge to be the one to serve the man that night, his curiosity piqued. Swiftly, he waves his co-worker Souda away and smacks the cherry wood bar top to catch the stranger's attention. He doesn't succeed at first, so he has to repeat the motion a few more times, snapping his fingers in front of the man's dazed face to force him out of… whatever kind of trance that he was lost in.

"Can I get you something or are you just going to sleep here and occupy space?" Hinata asks, the usual biting sarcasm audible in his voice. Being irritated with a customer was bad, he'd learned it the hard way. So unless it was absolutely necessary for him to come across as a mean asshole - usually whenever the drunken customers would refuse to get the hell out after the closing hours - he kept his tone in check.

The stranger blinks and looks around as though he isn't quite sure where he is, and right as Hinata contemplates whether the man is really actually high - the other's eyes are glossed over and his face is far too pale to look healthy - he looks the bartender dead in the eye and something strange occurs. Those murky, swamp-green eyes lose some of their cloudiness, regarding Hinata as though he's the only person in this world worthy of attention. The white-haired man's bizarre shivering abruptly stops. Hinata sucks in a sharp breath when he speaks up, voice sinfully attractive.

He asks for a simple shot of vodka, purring something vaguely suggestive, but Hinata ignores that nonsense as usual. He takes the bottle, fills a shot glass, and pushes it towards the customer without spilling a single drop. The stranger mutters a word of thanks and Hinata swears that he isn't watching the way those pale, slim fingers wrap around the small glass, swears that he's not watching the way he throws it back and swallows, Adam's apple bobbing up once when the bitter liquid travels down his throat. The man coughs at the strong aftertaste, making a face as though the shot is the single most disgusting thing he's ever tasted, and starts trembling again.

Hinata watches him choke on air, mercilessly smothering down the urge to offer the other a glass of water. He did ask for it, didn't he? Maybe he's a minor or something? Then again, asking for some identification would be a bit weird, because, after closer inspection, Hinata sees that the white-haired man looks twenty-three at least... Definitely not a minor and certainly of drinking age.

After a small inner battle with himself, he asks,

"Is there anything else I can get you?" Hinata absolutely refuses to ask why the other had ordered vodka when he nearly gagged at the taste of it.

Again, the newborn-puppy-left-in-the-rain quivering stops. The stranger leans in, holding up his laughable weight on bony elbows. Hinata smells the shot on his breath as warmth fans over his face.

"You could tell me your name." The man smiles. Hinata thinks that no, not only people are not allowed to have sinfully attractive voices, they are also not allowed to smile, well, smirk like that. However, he ignores the blatantly flirty approach, slanting his eyebrows into an annoyed frown and slightly backing away so that he can look into those eyes once more. There's a devious shine to them, expecting an answer. For some reason, Hinata feels slightly cornered.

"How about no," he finishes the flimsy conversation, forced politeness gone in an instant. He wants to back out, but strangely enough, Hinata's body refuses to cooperate. Refuses to acknowledge the alarm twisting his muscles into tense wires. 

"There's no need to act like that," the stranger calmly rebuffs, seemingly not one bit disheartened by the cold answer. His disposition, however, betrays hurt. "Just a name. It's all I ask for."

The bartender continues standing his ground, mouth pressed into a thin line, not really trusting this guy and his bizarre bedroom voice. For all he knows, the other could really be some back-alley druggie and he'd rather not associate himself with people like that. The guy's hot, true, but not that hot. Plus shady as fuck, therefore, not worthy of a proper response. 

He keeps on staring, attention unwavering, as if he's trying to read Hinata's innermost thoughts, which makes the bartender really uncomfortable. After the awkward silence stretches to terrible lengths, the stranger uses a different approach.

"I'm Komaeda. Komaeda Nagito," the man introduces himself and gives an encouraging smile, an unspoken 'now it is only fair that you tell me your name' hanging in the air between them.

Hinata remains quiet. At least now he knows the name. Calling someone 'stranger' in your mind for a longer period of time is incredibly stupid. He fights back the urge to say that he really couldn't care less about his name, but he's a bad liar to begin with, so he stops himself in time. Komaeda refuses to look away, foolishly expectant still. Damn his infinite patience. With finality, Hinata sighs.

"Alright," he grinds out and peels his stare away from Komaeda's green-eyed gaze, forcing himself to walk away to serve another customer - a man in his late thirties with tattoos inked on his face, and fingers tapping the bar impatiently. He cannot waste all of his time on just one patron and Kuzuryuu is already giving him pointed looks from his end of the bar. He shoots one last glance Komaeda's way, only to find the man seemingly upset with the way this situation had unfolded. Before Hinata can really think it over, he hears his own name escape from his lips.

"It's Hinata. That's all you're going to get from me."

He doesn't need to look over his shoulder to know that the man is smiling.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hinata-kun."

The bartender doesn't really tell him to drop the '-kun' that Komaeda so casually sticks to the back of his family name. While he usually doesn't allow people who aren't close to him to use any endearments, Hinata secretly revels in the way it rolls off the tip of Komaeda's tongue like something overwhelmingly sweet. 

He can feel those hazy eyes on him for another hour or so before the other gets up, pays Souda for his shot, and leaves.

It has become a routine for Komaeda to show up every night Hinata works his shifts. Right before the bar opens, he furiously wipes at the bar and Kuzuryuu approaches him. They briefly talk about everything and nothing, mostly business and customer-related stuff. Hinata knows that something is up because the shorter man avoids people like fire and never speaks to anyone unless it's absolutely necessary - in other words, only when his workers are in need of a good scolding. Needless to say, Kuzuryuu asks him about Komaeda.

"What's the deal with you and that guy?" He doesn't really ask, as it is said like a statement.

"Which guy?" Hinata pretends he doesn't know that his co-worker is asking about his newest number one loyal customer. He refuses to meet the blond man's inquisitive gaze, pointedly looking down at the torn rag, scrubbing an invisible piece of dirt. 

Sometimes he wishes that Kuzuryuu was as indifferent as he is explosive and harsh.

"C'mon, don't play fucking dumb with me. I know that you know who I'm talking about. That white-haired guy. The way he drools all over the bar is kind of really fucking disgusting and don't even get me started about the moments whenever you bend over. Deal with that fucker. I think he's scaring away the lady customers."

Hinata stops scrubbing the nonexistent dirt and presses his lips together into a thin line before some cynical statement that they don't really have lady customers slips from him mouth. Not only Komaeda's not his fucking problem, Kuzuryuu just has to go on ahead and bring it on the table when he's trying his best to ignore everything. It's not like they can kick Komaeda out; he isn't doing anything wrong besides staring and making Hinata feel self-conscious as fuck.

"Look, he's not really doing anything wrong besides… being creepy. And when I say creepy, I mean the kind of creepy that you don't wanna meet in a dark alley. Just let it go, and if he bothers you that much, you can go and deal with him yourself. I've nothing to do with this guy. He comes in every day."

Kuzuryuu sucks in a lungful of air, gaping like a fish trying to form sentences. Hinata predicts that the other is choking on his ill-maintained temper and that he's about to burst any moment, but much to Hinata's surprise, Kuzuryuu lets out something between an incredulous laugh and… a bark of rage, probably. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Know what?" If he doesn't know something that Kuzuryuu does, then it can't be good.

"He's only here when you're around. With you gone, that dude's nowhere to be found. Souda and I haven't seen a whisk of his stupid face here and Mioda swears that she's never seen anyone with a pale-ass complexion throughout her entire bar-tending career. "

Now that's something new to the brown-haired man and he's certain that it's not anything good. Is Komaeda truly, like Kuzuryuu has just implied, stalking him? Now that's highly disconcerting.

"How… How does he even know which exact shifts I work? Where the hell did he find out?" Hinata asks, more like speaks to himself rather than his boss. Kuzuryuu just runs a palm over his hair and thinks about it.

"Beats me. No fucking clue. Either way, Hinata Hajime has a stalker. I'd be impressed if the whole situation wasn't on dangerous levels of fucked up and downright creepy."

Hinata's about to tell him to shut up - either that or agree with him completely - when Ibuki storms into the bar, almost smacking the short blond with a wet broom.

"It broke through all dangerous levels of creepy and shot all the way to the mooooon! Over the moon! Into the Maaaars!" She flails around, does a couple rounds of air guitar while Kuzuryuu excessively curses in the background, but then turns unusually serious. "This is so hecked up, how about I take your shift? Take a break, get a life or a girlfriend, show him that you're not interested. It will aaaall work out like a piece of strawberry cheesecake."

Hinata refuses to acknowledge the last sentence that escapes the eccentric girl and considers the offer for a moment. Should he really abandon his work for at least a week and then come back to find Komaeda Nagito no longer waiting at his usual spot, leering at him over the rim of a red wine glass. No more Komaeda trying to distract him away from work whenever Hinata tried to concentrate and not cut off his own finger while slicing limes. No more Komaeda trying to, unsuccessfully and not so subtly, get into his pants.

No more stalker Komaeda Nagito whose company he's started liking in some sick and twisted way.

"Nah. It's fine. I am going to keep on working, no one is going to do this for me. I need the cash."

"But it is just for a f-few days until the one-man weirdo exhibition moves on. I can cover for you, Hajime—"

"It's fine. Really. There's no need to do that, I can deal with one guy on my own. "

Ibuki looks like she's about to argue back, Kuzuryuu mumbles something about 'masochism'. Hinata's sure that he's somehow fucked this up and that he should've taken up Ibuki's offer.

(He should've gotten rid of Komaeda before it was too late; feigned sick, skipped work, had someone bluff that he had quit.

But apparently, he just wasn't thinking clearly at the moment.)

Komaeda is strange in all the wrong ways. That thought has been imprinted in the back of his head ever since he'd first laid eyes on the shaking and pale mess. There's something… off about him. It isn't anything drug-related - his co-workers draw that conclusion, an expertise that would make any scientist jealous - yet there's something that makes Komaeda stand out.

He isn't all that different from the rest. He even looks charming and friendly, but the type of friendly who'd instantly punch you in the face, only to smile afterwards as though they did no wrong or didn't understand the consequences of their actions. It unnerves Hinata, this whole damaged creep vibe, and soon enough he realizes that he's not the only one sharing those sentiments.

He hears Kuzuryuu whispering under his breath, something along the lines of 'fucking psychos' whenever he notices the white-haired man lurking around, glaring at him at any given chance, anger and irritation obvious on his face. Ibuki's obviously uncomfortable as well and sometimes looks like she would rather be anywhere else. Souda seems downright terrified whenever one of the bartenders - usually Hinata - pushes him to serve their eerie customer.

Komaeda, frankly, does not give a fuck, or so it seems. If he does, then the guy is an amazing actor and does a splendid job at covering it up, Hinata can give him that much. Not everyone is able to hold out for a long while in a bar where everyone downright dislikes them. He just keeps his gaze glued on Hinata's wide back, watches the way the tense muscles move, and his spine arches under the tight fabric of a black work shirt.

Another month goes by in a heartbeat, and with every single day, Hinata becomes more and more aware of the other's presence. More aware of the lustful looks that his co-workers swear they've seen being sent Hinata's way, and while the brown-haired bartender remains really jilted, he somehow begins feeling less anxious.

Komaeda's uneasy presence is turning into something he's beginning to tolerate. Sometimes he even lets down his guard just enough to relax, while his coworkers continue doing their work, too tense for their own good. 

Despite the fact that Hinata never took up Ibuki's advice to get their shifts switched, he did manage to get himself a girlfriend. Somewhat. Not really.

It was not like one could call a friendship that had started all the way back in high school, and a date marathon that had lasted no longer than a couple of weeks, a true lovey dovey relationship. He'd known Chiaki for a while now, long enough to randomly ask her out. Not entirely sure why he was doing it in the first place, Hinata popped the question, and she said yes.

Hinata's dating record wasn't the best out there, so he barely did anything with the pink-haired girl - maybe took her by the hand a few times and kissed her a little. Not deep kisses either, just small pecks on the lips. Hinata didn't really know how any of that stuff worked and he had to admit that he never really tried it before, even though it was a bit shameful for a twenty-four-year-old guy.

Mostly, Hinata likes to think that he's never had the time to do things like this.

Their dates were pretty much the same as the two of them hanging out, just with more hand-holding. Video games, arcades, coffee shops, the usual stuff. While she truly enjoyed herself - Hinata could tell by the slight changes in her normally-dazed expression - Hinata himself just… never felt it. It was weird, a bit awkward, and just plain wrong. So before he knew it, Hinata politely told her that it wasn't working out and that they would be better off as friends.

Naturally, the friendship aspect got a bit strained by his sudden declaration afterwards. She kept giving him a bit of a cold shoulder, and Hinata… cared. A lot. He really cares, because Nanami's been his best friend since their junior year of high school and he feels incredibly stupid for selfishly asking her to date him without taking the pink-haired girl's feelings into consideration.

He works messily that night. The alcohol splashes, Kuzuryuu explodes two times and tells him to stop wasting their fucking glorified booze, Souda makes fun of him in a bro kind of way, laughing at him and his doomed relationship. It makes Hinata feel even worse when Souda tactlessly mentions that Nanami has been spending a lot of time at Sonia's and she seems more upset and sleepier than usual.

That last retort fills Hinata's thoughts to the brim, and he decides that tonight is the night he's gonna get wasted.

It's not really his fault, he thinks. Girls are stupid, girls are a mystery, and girls aren't worth anything. He growls, pushes a glass of whiskey towards some client, ignores Komaeda, crams shaved ice into a tall cocktail glass, ignores Komaeda, shakes a margarita, ignores Komaeda some more, gets into an argument with Kuzuryuu, acts like a cynical asshole, and forces Ibuki to take over the rest of his shift. It's not much, really, since it's already a little past 1 am, but the business is in full swing, so she complains as he starts bitching in a way that only he can.

Hinata asks Souda to give him the cheapest bottle of Jack Daniels, throws him a wad of cash to cover for the expenses, stabs the knife that he's been handling with shaking fingers back into the cutting board, drops his black apron, and swims through the crowd, searching for a free table because, god no, he's not sitting next to Komaeda who's looking at him with expectant eyes. Anything but that.

The bar is way too crowded, the noise is far too loud, air smoky, and Hinata would like nothing more than a whiff of freshness to blow into this heated, cramped space. The bar is pretty much overflowing that night, all of the stools occupied, and Komaeda, obviously after not having found enough space in front of the busy bar to openly stare at Hinata's ass, has picked out a table close enough to it. The perfect spot. 

Hinata feels hopeless. He vaguely thinks about taking the bottle back home, loving it tenderly until there's nothing left, but then Komaeda smiles his best disarming smile, and nudges the chair before him, sliding it  out of place - a silent invitation for Hinata to sit down - and he is done. Hinata is done acting like an immature child, he's done with the drama and other bullshit for the night, so naturally, without much forethought, he finally caves in, weeks of careful ignorance going to naught. 

He plops down on the wooden chair and unceremoniously places the bottle between them with an audible bang, sinking even lower into the seat. He stares at Komaeda through the dark glass of the bottle, not wanting to see that handsome, distorted face. Ruffled white strands poke out from the bottle's sides. 

Komaeda's laugh is a sensual, ominous whisper, barely audible over the thunderous music in the background, and Hinata knows that he's truly acting like a kid and that he can't run away from this forever. He straightens up, trying to regain some of his non-existent dignity, and properly regards the white-haired man, intense gazes meeting dead on.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to say that you had a really bad day?" is all that Komaeda says. It takes one calculative glance at Hinata's sour expression to know what's up.

Hinata says nothing, just uncorks the bottle with an experienced movement of his fingers, raising it slightly. "Care for a drink?"

"I'm good," Komaeda hums, eyeing the bottle of fire Jack distastefully and pointedly sipping at the red wine that he's come to love. Hinata makes a face. Wine has always been disgusting to him, either far too sour or bittersweet, and he has no idea how Komaeda can drink that fancy grape shit. To each their own, he shrugs, taking a generous sip from the bottle. The burn makes him relax.

Not quite silence settles over them. It's a little awkward as Hinata keeps nursing his Jacky and Komaeda continuously swishes the red liquid in his glass like some rich upper-class pleb. They don't look at each other and the tension is starting to get thick.

Komaeda looks downright uncomfortable, opens his mouth, and then promptly closes it as though he's not drunk enough to do this, or say this, or whatever - Hinata doesn't really care. Not so brave when the object of your affections is right in front of you, eh? A nasty smirk pulls on his lips at the mere thought. 

"Hinata-kun, I—"

Hinata just waves a hand, his vision already unfocused. "Look, just save it. I don't wanna hear this. I simply came here because you oh-so-politely invited me and the place is packed. Imma finish up and then go home. Everything is fucked today. I don't really want to deal with this, so shut up and let me get drunk off my ass in peace."

Komaeda's eyes flash hurt. Hinata wants to say something, apologize for acting like a total dick. He doesn't even realize it when he does just that. "Alright, 'm sorry. I had a really bad day. Whatever." He sips again, thoughts no longer in line.

Komaeda seems determined then and Hinata realizes that he's gonna spill all of his darkest innermost secrets to this man tonight whether he wants to or not. He's a bit shocked when he realizes that he doesn't care as much as he should. Alcohol is a satanic piece of work.

"So what could've possibly happened that you're out here, trying to drown yourself in this?" Komaeda is straight to the point, no dicking around the subject - a quality that Hinata realizes he appreciates. Confidence is attractive, no? 

He waves an index finger in front of his own eyes, tracking the movement in order to focus. It doesn't work, so he rubs his forehead instead. "Girls happened, that's what…"

Komaeda looks just a tad dissatisfied with his response as though Hinata has just said something vile but it's quickly replaced by a small, polite smile that he wouldn't have liked at all if he didn't have a considerable amount of booze flowing in his system.

"I wouldn't be too far off if I guessed that a breakup happened…?"

"Damn right. Though…though it wasn't really one? Because we weren't really dating?" Komaeda's smile widens with every word but Hinata's too far gone to notice and keeps on sipping the drink, no longer feeling the taste. "She's someone… I randomly asked out some time ago. I dunno – don't ask why, I just did. Wasn't really think—thinking at the moment." He goes down the memory lane, remembers everything clearly enough and Nanami pisses him off so much but he's not sure why. Everything pisses him off - from his stupid co-workers to this stupid bar, to the god-awful drink, to Komaeda's sexy sexy sexy… sexy everything. That guy is a sin and he should be banned. Why hasn't Kuzuryuu banned him yet? 

So he spills. Komaeda plays him like a puppet on the string and some part of Hinata knows that, yet he still tells him everything. About Chiaki, about his dumb co-workers, about his fucked up life. The man knows exactly what questions to ask without sounding too suspicious, knows when to keep quiet and sigh at the appropriate times, knows exactly when to sneakily hold Hinata's hand whenever the brown-haired man gets a bit too emotional.

Komaeda finds out that Hinata Hajime is twenty-four. He also finds out that the bartender got kicked out by his parents when he was barely eighteen and that he dropped out of college because he could no longer afford it - living here is just too fucking expensive with no one to help you out. He finds out that Hinata had crashed at his friends' places more times than he could possibly count until one of them had offered Hinata a job at one of the many shady establishments owned by his family.

Learns that Hinata only recently managed to scrape up enough money to get a half-decent apartment in the better part of town. He finds out that Hinata asked out his best friend since high school because he's been trying very hard to avoid a certain someone whom he likes very much and all of his awful friends have advised him to stay away.

Komaeda finds out that that special person is a guy and that Hinata no longer wants to go through the same kind of gay panic that he'd gone through all the way back in sixth grade when a boy had kissed him under the bleachers and he had enjoyed it far more than he was supposed to.

"How's it bad? If you like someone, you should be honest with yourself. You need to have hope that that person will like you in return, Hinata-kun. Trust me when I tell you this - a lot of times having at least some hope can really save you," Komaeda says wisely, his smile out of place. By now they're sharing each other's breathing space, Hinata reeking of alcohol and his cheeks on fire.

"It—it's not going to work out," Hinata whisper yells over the hum of heavy bass and his eyes roam the handsome, pale face in front of him. Komaeda leans a bit closer, but Hinata doesn't back away.

"How would you know that without trying it first? Someone as amazing as you should not be afraid to try things out. You could be wrong, you do know that, right?"

"I just know, okay...? It—it's not good for me. T-that person is… not the right one for me, and I shouldn't… think of y—of him that much," Hinata explains, tongue-tied, and peels the bottle from those thin fingers. Somewhere along the line, he's begun sharing it with his companion. There's barely anything left.

"I'm sure that they won't reject you, Hinata-kun. In fact, I think that he'd be glad - more than happy - and would probably take you home with him." Komaeda's smirk is mischievous, but Hinata still doesn't get it, strong alcohol clouding his better judgment.

"Bu-but I've never… you know. How can you even ask m-me… when I never…" His face turns vermilion. Komaeda can practically feel the heat radiating from that tanned skin. Hinata struggles with his next sentence, so the white-haired man offers him some help.

"Never had sex with a man?" Komaeda finishes for him and places his fingers on top of Hinata's, the touch lingering far longer than it should be comfortable. He smoothly takes the bottle away, sipping on the remaining liquid. The brunet blushes even darker, frantically waving his hands in front of Komaeda's smug face as if afraid that someone might hear them.

"Shhh—don't say that out loud! I—I… don't really know what to do. Wh-when it comes to love and… and stuff. I don't know what to do… I had no idea what to do for a month now, that person throws me off… he's different. The way he looks, I know that you—" Hinata doesn't even notice his slip of the tongue. Komaeda grins, glad that the other has finally cracked. "Only want to get into my pants and I—I'm not sure what to say to him, because you only like what you see."

He is mumbling now, some sort of semi-coherent nonsense, and the white-haired man thinks carefully about what he should say and do next, the possible outcome to every little thing he might bring up, but then Hinata is way too close, closer than a second ago, and he nearly brushes his lips against Komaeda's, brought forward by the heavy sway of his body. Needless to say, all of Komaeda's coherent thoughts fly out the window in a second.

Hinata steadily breathes against his lips, slow and steady. His honey-hued eyes are clouded with want when he finally exhales, brow furrowed in concentration. "I really really like y-you."

Those words send a bolt down the back of Komaeda's spine. Smooth warmth brushes over his slightly opened mouth and he's really fucking hard again, for what seems to be the nth time that night. It's been getting worse after Hinata had decided to join him. The last of Komaeda's rapidly-dwindling self-restraint disappears as he drawls against Hinata's spice-coated lips.

"And I really really want to take you home with me right now, Hinata-kun," he groans, no longer bothering to cover up the true meaning of his words or make them sound any less suggestive.

Komaeda can't hold on any longer. He's been chasing after the elusive brunet for more than a month now, he put up with the loud atmosphere and the obnoxious music that he hates more than anything, people he's not sure he wants to see anymore, and now he has him hooked - he finally cracked through Hinata's tall defenses. He's gotten the other boy to like him. This sort of outcome is better than expected, superior to the best of his less-than-decent thoughts, improper dreams, and the feeling is completed by the fact that this is real and is actually happening.

He'll gladly get down on his knees and beg if he must. All he wants is to just get the hell out of this cramped place, find some peaceful corner, and finally, finally fuck Hinata senseless. The urge to violate, to conquer overtakes the best of him.

"But I don't know how to. I…"

"It's alright, Hinata-kun, don't worry about that right now. I'll teach you, someone like you will master it in a second, just please," Komaeda breathes out against the shell of the brown-haired man's red ear and Hinata shivers against him. "Let's get out of here."

Hinata turns quiet for a moment but then grabs onto Komaeda's jacket, laughing dryly. "You're trash, Komaeda. Taking advantage of a guy wh—who is drunk and doesn't… know what he's getting himself into. T-This better be worth it… you better show me something I've never seen before," he finishes, blowing hot air into Komaeda's ear, mimicking the action. The devious tease is almost enough for Komaeda to lose it completely, to slam Hinata on this small table and ravage him in front of everyone.

But alas, that's not an option. Hinata deserves better, so Komaeda gulps and firmly grabs the other's wrist to drag him outside, the wide eyes of Hinata's coworkers following the pair on their way to the exit. 

Through the thick veil of intoxication, the tiny, sober part of Hinata realizes that he's just signed a deal with the devil himself and that he is fucked - in more ways than one. And unfortunately for him, there won't be any more exits to escape through. 

Komaeda can't wait for them to get back home and he's more than pleased to find out that his partner for the night is sharing the sentiment. However, it's enough for them to round one corner before Hinata seizes his wrist in a vice-like grip and manhandles the taller one into a darkened alley. Before Komaeda can fully register it, those arms lock around his pale neck, and he melts into the shorter one's lips, knees shaky. His hands roam over the thin yet toned form as he pushes one hand under the black button-down. Hinata quivers against his bony frame, seeking contact and grinding their hips together. A mutual groan of pleasure escapes them when Hinata pulls away to breathe, all rosy lips and thin trails of saliva. Komaeda doesn't let him catch his breath - this is it, this is what he's been waiting for. He presses their lips together again, licking the inside of Hinata's mouth, tasting the lingering remains of Jack Daniels on his tongue.

He tastes a pang of cinnamon and breathes in the comforting scent that can only be described as Hinata, and Hinata only - something sweet and citrusy, refreshing. It reminds the taller man of sunny days and the breeze of the ocean. Komaeda drags the tip of his tongue over the roof of Hinata's mouth and draws out a stuttering, breathy moan from the back of his throat. It makes Komaeda weak in the knees. Those thin fingers wrap tighter in the unruly mess of pale hair in an attempt to get even closer as if it was even physically possible.

They're glued together, chest to chest. Komaeda unwillingly makes some space so that he can at least touch the shorter man more. Hinata is reluctant to untangle himself, but then Komaeda runs his cool fingertips over the tanned chest, and with a sharp gasp, Hinata relents, letting go. Their hips brush together again when Komaeda, without much thought, runs his hand down Hinata's warm side, searching. He is quick to find the hardened nipple, boldly pushing the pad of his thumb against it. Drinking in the pleased reactions.

Komaeda also finds out that Hinata, for all of his talk about being inexperienced, is incredibly lewd and shameless. It takes no more than a few playful scrapes of his short nail against the puckered flesh to reduce the bartender to a shivering mess.

He's not shy, not one bit, and it's a pleasant surprise to know that Komaeda has been wrong about his target for once.

Hinata continuously grinds against his lean thigh to create more friction, getting louder by the second, not bothering to hold back any filthy sounds that escape him. Hinata firmly guides Komaeda's hands right where he wants them the most, grip steady and unwavering. It's not until Hinata incoherently begs for more of his heated touch and presses his hand to the straining bulge of his jeans that Komaeda somewhat snaps out of his lust-induced haze, backing away slightly to look directly at those glazed-over eyes.

"Not here, Hinata-kun…" he whispers lowly and Hinata's eyes brighten in an instant, eyebrows slanting into a confused frown. The soft noises of appreciation stop instantaneously, yet the shorter one's breathing is still heavy.

"Are you seriously backing out right now?" he snaps angrily, voice lucid. "After all of that trouble and all those promises, you're seriously backing out—"

"No," Komaeda interrupts with some edge to his usually quiet voice, briefly placing his lips against his partner's. A reassurance as good as any. "No, how could you even think that? There's—" he kisses the Hinata's flushed cheek, "no way that I would stop, unless you want me to. It's only understandable that you would think that someone as unworthy as me isn't fit to be your first, Hinata-kun, and I absolutely cannot blame you! But I'm not lying to you, Hinata-kun!" Komaeda turns frantic. Hinata watches his pupils dilate. The taller one shivers when he cradles Hinata's surprised face, hands unpleasantly clammy. He keeps kissing wherever he can reach, so Hinata has to push the pale man away in order to speak more clearly.

"Then what's this about?" he asks, suspicious. Hinata feels his head becoming a little clearer, but he absolutely refuses to back out of this, as though he wants this almost as much as Komaeda, with or without any alcohol in his system.

"I don't want your first time to happen in a dirty place like this - you only deserve the best there is! I won't let you feel any disappointment. I'll make it good, I promise. I'll do anything you ask me to, just say a word and I'll do it. Even the most degrading of things." The rushed kissing returns, and even as drunk as he may be, Hinata feels rather uneasy by this sudden change in the taller one's behaviour. Without much thought, he seizes the cool, sweaty face in his hands and pulls the frantic man in for a deep kiss. He keeps him there for a long time, eyes closed and nose scrunched up in focus. Eventually, the tension dissipates from Komaeda's thin frame like poison sucked out of a gaping wound. The hyperventilation stops and the man gradually relaxes. When Hinata finally pulls away, Komaeda looks significantly more balanced and his muddy green eyes no longer look… borderline insane.

For a brief moment, they hold each other like strangers do, right until Komaeda's breathing steadies completely. Hinata feels his chest heat up with something that cannot be called mere lust, no matter how he puts it. It's something hot, bittersweet, and surprisingly painful. It doesn't make him feel light in the slightest, doesn't make him feel as though he is taking off and flying away as if tied to a helium balloon. Instead, this feeling weighs him down like a heavy scrap of metal shackled to his ankles. The mood is ruined - he can tell that much - but his need, his lust are still insistent, refusing to go away until they're satisfied, scraping ugly claws against too-warm insides. God knows he does not want his first same-sex encounter to end in a major case of blue balls.

Komaeda's fingers brush against his cheek lightly, almost lovingly, and the look in his eyes is one of pure adoration when he whispers. "This is not what I meant… Let's go to my place, Hinata-kun, where I can treat you properly. I meant what I said; this alley is not suited for someone like you."

Hinata eyes him warily as if there is some sort of ulterior motive to be uncovered, looks into Komaeda's green eyes, but sees nothing there - no malice, no scheming looks that the man wears like the comfortable liar that he is. Hinata refuses the urge to ask the taller one what he wants exactly - why is it all about Hinata and not him? - but he cannot bring himself to do it because he knows that Komaeda won't give him a proper answer.

Hinata agrees because the chill of the brick wall is freezing his back and the ridges of the uneven surface hurt his spine every time he moves against Komaeda's front. Plus, this is only a one-night-stand thing, his first one ever, so he thinks that it's in his best interest for the conditions to be the best they can be. He doesn't know what awaits for him, but Komaeda sounds so honest that he has no other choice but to agree.

To seal the deal, Komaeda heatedly kisses him again, hoping to get the mood back up and running again. Thankfully, it works wonders. The previous haze reignites and the weirdness of the white-haired man's behavior gets pushed into the back of Hinata's mind. Soon enough, he forgets it completely.

When they all but run - as uncomfortable as it is with an erection straining against your jeans - to Komaeda's car, Hinata takes a moment to appreciate it. He doesn't know all that much about vehicles, but he's certain that if Souda saw this one, he'd be rolling all over its sleek black surface as though it was a music video. Hinata forcefully pushes that disturbing image out of his mind and sits shotgun.

The inside is even fancier than the outside, all cream-colored leather with a lingering scent of pine, but Komaeda looks entirely indifferent to it. He doesn't waste his breath bragging and starts the engine.

When they begin moving, Hinata gets slightly drowsy. He's always had a thing for falling asleep in moving vehicles after dark, but he determinedly rubs the sleep out of his glassy eyes and wonders where they're headed and what he's about to do.

A bit bored, he places a palm on Komaeda's leg just because he can, and gently traces the inner thigh, avoiding the obvious strain in the taller one's pants that mirrors his own. Komaeda grips the steering wheel in a deathly grip until his knuckles shine white in the dim orange lights of the blurring city, gaze focused on the road, firmly refusing to look at the tease seated beside him. Hinata thinks about what'll happen in just a few minutes, licks his chapped lips, and lets his palm rest on the obvious outline of the white-haired man's length. Komaeda tenses even more and slaps Hinata's needy hands away. When he speaks up, his voice quivers with such raw need that it sends another trail of excitement rushing down Hinata's spine, certain happiness that he is wanted, needed.

"Hinata-kun, if you don't stop that right now, we're going to crash. I don't think that I can keep focused if you—"

"Do what?" Hinata teases, because once again, he can, and drags his hand back, fingers skimming over the rough material, rubbing firmly. Komaeda lets out a muffled groan. He tries to shake Hinata's sneaky hand away, but the other slaps the pale thin wrist in return and keeps working his palm, fingertips toying with the zipper. 

Komaeda doesn't argue this time. Hinata entertains himself for the rest of the car ride, watching Komaeda trying hard to stay focused. The way he bites his lip is endearing to say the least, and the way his back arches slightly every time Hinata palms him in the right way, boosts Hinata's pride. When they arrive at the better part of the town and Komaeda stops in front of a fancy apartment complex, Hinata only manages to think that Komaeda really is bathing in money, before all of his thoughts are shut down when Komaeda makes a mad leap towards him. Those bruised lips cover his.

He doesn't know how they get to Komaeda's place. All he manages to register - through a hazy mind and a flurry of hands and lips, touching, biting, groaning - is that this is most likely a penthouse and that the view from the windows that reach all the way to the marble floor, is amazing. His back hits a leather couch when Komaeda settles on top of him. They're glued together like they're about to merge into one entity and the white-haired man mutters some quick half-assed apologies that he can't be bothered to reach the bedroom - he needs this right here, right now. Hinata tells him to shut up and kisses him again.

Clothes fly left and right, but Hinata doesn't have it in himself to care, not when their hips grind together so deliciously. Komaeda is leaner than a rail - the only thing that keeps him from looking breakable is his considerably broad shoulder line. Hinata loves it, adores it, he absolutely does. He scratches along that pale back, wanting to leave as many marks as he possibly can, slowly infected by Komaeda's possessiveness. The taller one bruises Hinata, and bites his neck time and time again, sucking on the tan skin to leave nasty marks. The hickeys are going to be a pain to hide, but neither of them cares enough to stop.

Komaeda dips his tongue into Hinata's navel, enjoying the breathy sounds and gladly drinking them in. He then racks his blunt nails down Hinata's sharp hips as he goes lower and thinks that this is all his - all of Hinata belongs to him. It's a territory that no one has ever threaded before and it only adds to his building excitement once he runs his tongue over the length of his already leaking cock, despite the weak protests and the trashing about.

Komaeda doesn't listen, cannot be bothered to listen, and is quick to fully take him into his mouth, ready to please, giving a particularly strong suck. Those fingers wind tightly in his pale hair and it fucking hurts because Hinata is strong, stronger than he looks. It sends a shiver of excitement down Komaeda's knobby spine - this pain is a good kind of pain, it tells him that he's doing great. He keeps those thin hips in place, carefully curling his tongue, and hollowing out his cheeks for good measure. Komaeda makes sure to stimulate him properly and thoroughly, and it's not long before Hinata is pushing him away, muttering something along the lines of 'no' and 'don't'. The taller one just pushes those weak, weak hands away and lets Hinata release in his mouth, without spilling a single drop.

It's gross, Komaeda vaguely thinks. His taste buds are offended because he never swallows, but it's something of Hinata's, and whatever Hinata's willing to give him, he'll gladly take without any complaints. He brushes a stray drop of pearly saliva escaping his mouth and doesn't give the other a chance to catch his raspy breath.

The man's moans are music to his ears and his walls are warm and tight around his slick fingers when he moves them experimentally, twisting. He carefully observes those honey-colored irises hidden by a thick fan of dark eyelashes. The way Hinata writhes beneath him makes his fantasies pale in comparison to the real view. Komaeda loves the fact that he's doing this - he's the one bringing this amazing man pleasure, this pain, just as it is supposed to be. He shushes him gently when Hinata's heel digs slightly into his thigh in alarm and the bartender asks Komaeda to take the digits away because it fucking hurts. Komaeda is too far gone to keep his promises of stopping when needed. He powers thought it, persistent until it gets better - more than better - and Hinata stills beneath him, whimpering when the fingers finally disappear, leaving him empty and twitching.

Komaeda hesitates, but Hinata only locks his ankles around his back and squeezes in reassurance - this is okay and he is giving permission. Hinata's eyes shoot open when Komaeda none-too-gently buries himself deep within, painfully hard and slick with precum and lube, sighing in content. The look in his eyes is insane again and Hinata shivers, not from pleasure or pain, but from a pang of sudden wrongness that fills the air between them, followed by an inkling of fear. He's already forgotten how uneasy those icy cold stares can make him. He studies the man's face through the sheen of tears clinging to his eyelashes.

Komaeda looks like he's found heaven on earth and is bathing in the glow and glory of it, body shaking and smile a tad creepy. The man closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling, reveling in the heat around him. It sucks him in deeper as Hinata winces. The last bits of self-restraint shatter around him. He moves and doesn't care at all if Hinata hurts - an animal-like instinct and a sense of accomplishment flood him. A small part of Komaeda aches, but he firmly shoves it deep down, attempting to lock it away for a few blissful minutes at least, but it still manages to break free. Komaeda sheaths himself as deep as he can, lining their foreheads together. Hinata has to close his eyes in order to get away from that probing stare that makes his guts freeze over like he's been submerged in a bath full of ice cubes.

As long as he doesn't have to look into Komaeda's eyes, this Komaeda's eyes, he's fine. He doesn't need to do it. Fear is soon chased away by the clouds of lust and the overwhelming need to just fucking get off already, get this over and done with. Hinata fixates on the technical side of their act, trying oh-so-hard to just feel. Be in the moment.

Komaeda moves fast and deep, thrusts kept short, and Hinata does not dare to look up. He just listens to the strange laughter and the occasional 'this is amazing, this is exactly what I've expected from you, Hinata-kun'. It's not until it turns quiet, too damn quiet, that Hinata risks a glance. Komaeda's frantic pace mellows into painfully slow thrusting, loving and tender when he presses their lips together. So many emotions flood him right then, leaving Hinata overwhelmed, but relaxing in Komaeda's arms again. They settle into a calm tempo, clinging to each other for dear life, connecting, and the night is ending far too soon than either one of them would like.

The satisfying release leaves them both breathless, and right before Hinata blacks out to the first rays of morning light, he feels Komaeda brush away his damp hair to whisper something that he does not hear, loving and sweet, making him feel warm and safe.

It is the most perfect night that Hinata Hajime has had in a very long time.

The next morning he wakes up to the sensation of cold air brushing against his exposed spine. Hinata's head feels as though someone has tried to crack open his skull with a hefty hammer. He doesn't risk moving around too much, the contents of his stomach churning dangerously. Hinata feels something fluffy and white tickle his nose, and certain dampness on his naked shoulder. He shields his eyes from the rays of the sun – god, why did this room have to be so fucking bright - and squints at the thin form of no one other than Komaeda Nagito snoozing away, thin limbs wrapped around him like a vine, securing Hinata in place. 

The man snores silently and drools all over his front, acting like a mini heater. Hinata studies that peaceful face and unwillingly admits that the man looks absolutely adorable when he's asleep, cheeks tinted pink with the light reflecting off those pale eyelashes. Hinata moves his shoulder a little to rouse him, but the other just yawns, clinging to him even tighter. He doesn't look like he's about to let go anytime soon. After a few more tries, Hinata settles for elbowing Komaeda into consciousness. He would laugh at the way Komaeda blinks one eye and then another, hair sticking out in random directions, if the situation wasn't so goddamned serious. Komaeda squints and regards Hinata as though he's a complete stranger that he's never met before, but then quickly relaxes.

"Ah, Hinata-kun, why did you do that…? It's still early." The way Komaeda flexes his back and yawns to get his point across reminds Hinata of a huge fluffy kitten. That hair doesn't help. He feels a pang of guilt when he notices the bruises that he'd inflicted last night, shining bright on milky skin. The feeling quickly goes away when his own neck aches where it's been bitten too hard.

"Get off…" Hinata grumbles, because he's a grouchy douche in the mornings, and that fact cannot be changed just because he had amazingly mind-blowing sex. "For someone so skinny, you sure weigh a lot and you snore." The brown-haired man rubs his eyes, stifling an ugly yawn. It's obvious that it's still early morning and that they haven't slept much. His headache is a fucking bitch, and he knows that if he stands up, he'll inevitably throw up all over Komaeda's pristine white carpet. His ass sticks to the leather of the sofa, and with a wince, Hinata peels himself away.

The white-haired idiot sure makes a lot of pretty promises, but when it comes to keeping them…

Komaeda keeps his weight on his elbows and looks up at Hinata with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, did that wake you? I'm sorry that someone like me has managed to wake you up with horrible snoring, I—"

Hinata cuts him off before the other can even start. He fixes Komaeda with a hard glare, pointing one accusatory finger into his face. "You drool. This is what woke me up."

Komaeda gapes. He opens his mouth again, but Hinata's already working on slowly getting up without vomiting all over the floor. He spots his boxers on the floor near the sofa, and is quick to reach for them to slip them on. He ignores Komaeda's disappointed look when he stands up to full height and reaches for the discarded work shirt. Kuzuryuu is going to kill him if he shows up all ruffled.

The nausea is overwhelming. He wants to ask the man of the house where the bathroom is so that he can have immediate access to the porcelain toilet bowl when he inevitably doubles over, but Komaeda's thin fingers are tightly wrapped around his wrist, denying all movement.

Eventually, the nausea subsides, replaced by something else. Hinata looks down in confusion. Komaeda smiles as if he knows, and no words are needed. He admires the contrast between the other's pale complexion and the creamy surface of the sofa. Those amazing eyes shine in hues of dark forest green and Hinata feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. He pointedly refuses to look anywhere else but Komaeda's face - Hinata doesn't want to seem obscene and ogle that naked body - while the man continues insistently tugging on his wrist, trying to make Hinata sit beside him. He gives in.

Suddenly, they're face to face, and Hinata can't find it in himself to brush the other off. Komaeda is so damn beautiful, he can hardly look away. The morning rays cast a heavenly glow on his smooth skin, forming a soft halo over his snowy head, making him appear deceptively angelic and serene. His touch is so tender, accompanied by the gentle press of dry lips. It's undeniably nice and the small 'I love you, Hinata-kun' sounds pure, even if it scares Hinata shitless, yet he doesn't run away.

They comfortably lie on the sofa, deeply relaxed, until the inevitable comes and Hinata has to run all the way to the bathroom to empty his stomach. He keeps throwing up while Komaeda rubs soothing circles on his twitching back and makes sure that he drinks enough water.

Komaeda drives him home, pecks him on the lips right before Hinata gets out. It's an unspoken agreement that this isn't the last time they'll be seeing each other.

No one says anything when Hinata goes to work that night.

Kuzuryuu looks downright disgusted and doesn't really approach him, tone colder than usual. Ibuki acts indifferent as though she hasn't seen him leave with his date, but Hinata catches her staring with some sort of pitying look - since when is she capable of looking like that? - reflected in her indigo eyes. Souda looks a bit uncomfortable whenever they talk and his daily monologue about Sonia Nevermind's greatness isn't as enthusiastic as usual. He tenderly asks Hinata if he has seen Nanami lately, but the response is negative and they no longer talk about it. After a while, the brown-haired man starts getting irritated at the subtle mentions of his ex, still feeling a bit bitter, so Souda lets it go completely.

Komaeda's nowhere to be seen that night. Hinata doesn't really miss his presence, nor does he feel like he should. Something in his gut keeps telling him that this isn't the end, and he's not too surprised when Komaeda shows up exactly one week later, at the same time and usual spot. He acts like nothing's happened, and Hinata tries to ignore him as usual, but fails miserably. They sometimes converse if the bar isn't too crowded, and Hinata finds himself laughing at Komaeda's strange stories. They ease into this comfortable relationship, with Hinata beginning to relax. Komaeda is a good guy, he thinks. A fun one to be around, even if he still gets those creepy episodes every now and then. His laughter is beautiful, his body language is really animated, and after their rendezvous, Hinata starts talking to him more openly, less forced. He becomes happier, too.

On the third day, Komaeda finally asks for Hinata's phone number. Hinata gives it away without a second thought, ignoring the pointed stares Souda and Ibuki shoot his way.

Lately, all of them have been looking at Hinata as though they felt sorry for him, secretly thinking that he was immensely stupid for playing with fire - though a snake sounded more accurate in this situation, one he would inevitably get bitten by it. Hinata realizes that he doesn't really care about what the others might think and finally understands Komaeda's persistence, his crazy determination. As long as you're happy or having a good time, everything's fine.

When Komaeda isn't around, Hinata's phone buzzes in the back pocket with missed text messages that he quickly replies to whenever Kuzuryuu isn't busy glaring daggers at him. They chat about everything and nothing at the same time and make plans to go out. At first, Hinata refuses those kinds of offers, still a bit wary, but when he sees Komaeda's pleading stares, he begrudgingly gives in.

His co-workers say nothing when Komaeda comes up to the bar and asks Hinata if he's ready to go after the end of his shift on a busy Friday night, even though it's already close to 2 am. Ibuki stares Hinata down when he leaves with the taller man in tow, and they spend the night miles away from their hometown, watching the sun rise above the ocean. Komaeda holds his hand as Hinata watches their feet sink deeper into the wet sand with every tiny wave washing over them. The water is cold, the wind is strong, but it feels good. He splashes Komaeda and gets chased down the empty beach, heels digging into the white grains, leaving crooked footprints behind.

They're touchy-feely that morning, and Hinata sleeps with Komaeda for the second time. It's even better than the first.

He skips work for one day.

When he cleans and mops the dusty floor - Kuzuryuu's punishment for skipping town to hang out with the 'albino fucker', even though Hinata tries to lie his way out of it, saying that he's simply been feeling sick - Souda approaches him, reluctantly claps him on the back, and congratulates Hinata on his new relationship. Hinata doesn't say anything back or come up with any excuses, because he knows that Souda won't buy them.

Afterwards, they let go of it completely, and keep on ignoring the unwanted white-haired presence whenever it occupies a bar stool in Hope's bar.

Hinata watches Komaeda's silly smile and thinks that Souda's right - he's unknowingly started dating Komaeda Nagito. They are dating and it isn't awful.

They are dating and somehow it doesn't feel right.

Komaeda is a nice guy, is what Hinata likes to think. He's someone the girls consider 'eye candy' and would love to date. Komaeda's polite, friendly, and charming - truly the dictionary definition of a gentleman. He doesn't have any bad habits; doesn't smoke, and he's not an alcoholic. As a matter of fact, the only type of alcohol that he appreciates is most likely red wine, or so Hinata concludes after three weeks of being together. Komaeda is not the type of person who'd ever cheat on you with anyone else and devotes himself to you entirely.

After three weeks, Hinata can fully confirm that this blind devotion is what makes Komaeda Nagito completely fucking insane and that his co-workers may have been correct. Komaeda is nothing more than a beautiful lie and blatant manipulative tendencies wrapped around a rotten core. And Hinata… well, he still most likely loves him nonetheless. Even if at times Komaeda unsettles him to the point where he feels like staying home and not going outside unless it's vitally necessary. Sadly, hiding away is no longer an option, because the man knows where Hinata lives and works.

Komaeda is a possessive bastard who comes with jealousy and abandonment issues, along with something mentally messed up to complete the whole package.

When Hinata first found out about Komaeda's family, he thought that there was no way that human beings could possibly grow up in that kind of environment without any lasting consequences, terrible issues surfacing later on in their life. During the first week of their relationship, they spent most of their nights in Komaeda's apartment - which indeed turned out to be a penthouse, just like Hinata had suspected. The view of the city stretching out below was quite amazing and breathtaking, and whenever Hinata exhaled misty, warm fog against the glass, he secretly hoped that no one would decide to look up at the windows at the most inopportune moment - even though it was almost impossible to clearly see anything, he was still self-conscious. He left fingertip marks all over the chilly surface as Komaeda breathed into his ear - slow, ragged, and hot. Hinata was reluctant when it came to messing the other's place up, but Komaeda reassured him that he didn't really care about it anyway and that he was free to do whatever he pleased with it. That night, the window was dirtied with sticky white, and Komaeda all but picked him up, tired and flushed. They settled on the sofa to cuddle.

Komaeda reluctantly opened up when Hinata tenderly asked about his family life and the eerily empty apartment. For a long while, Komaeda remained silent, and Hinata was not too sure that he would answer. It was probably far too soon to discuss something like this - he was obviously treading a dangerous territory there - but then Komaeda told him all about them, about how he'd always been pushed aside ever since he turned five, and that his parents never truly cared for him, valuing his father's daughter from the first marriage far more.

When Komaeda was no older than nine, the aforementioned sister Junko, had pushed him down a flight of stairs, making him hit his head and break a leg. His parents hadn't bothered to show up throughout the entirety of his lengthy hospital stay, whereas Junko made herself clear of any suspicion by saying that Komaeda was very mean to her from the very beginning and that he was the one who had serious intentions to push her that day.

During Komaeda's teenage years, he had to deal with severe depression and other undiagnosed issues, but once more, he was completely abandoned by his indifferent family.

When he reached that point in his story, Komaeda stopped talking, no longer willing to give out any details, a vacant look dulling those typically lively eyes. Deep down, Hinata knew that the other was leaving out something vital, but he did not dare to push the issue any further. This was obviously a conversation that he didn't want to continue.

At least now he knows now why Komaeda keeps degrading himself so much. This sort of negativity is… There's no other way to put it… sickening. Hinata himself is prone to negativity, more so on the paranoid end of the spectrum, really, but Komaeda's just something else entirely. Even this girl that Hinata had known back in high school, someone named Tsumiki, wasn't that negative, and she truly was a special case. Komaeda degrades himself to the point where he thinks that he isn't important enough to exist, clinging to Hinata as though he was a lifeline, a savior.

That clinginess makes things between them worse. The concept of talking to someone else with Komaeda around has to be forgotten entirely due to the icy glares that the white-haired man shoots his way whenever he pays the slightest amount of positive attention to someone else, making shivers race down Hinata's spine. Whenever he gets too friendly with either Ibuki or Souda during work hours, Komaeda makes sure that Hinata gets a taste of his jealousy and pent-up frustration later on. As great as the sex is, the scratching and verbal abuse aren't. The madness that shines brightly in those slightly demented eyes, chills Hinata to the bone.

After a few days later, filled with utter surprise by this sudden change of attitude, Hinata starts fighting back. On more than one occasion, crafty insults fly back and forth between them until someone inevitably backs down, but by the end of the day, they still end up clinging to each other for dear life, everyone else forgotten, lost in their own little world. It's too damn easy to forgive Komaeda, Hinata decides. The man always looks like a kicked puppy, his lower lip trembling and eyes pleading. The way he wraps his arms around Hinata's waist while muttering that there's no one else like him, that no one else can have him, and that he's sorry for acting the way he does, is more than Hinata can resist. He can't resist the constant string of 'I love you's', because damn it, he's fallen for Komaeda, too.

They never fall into a habit of calling each other by their first names, even though they're officially together now.

Hinata quickly gets sick of the constant stream of incoming text messages and missed calls during his work hours, even more so whenever Komaeda's gone, doing god knows what, and not present in the bar to guard him like a particularly ferocious dog. If by any chance Hinata doesn't reply to all of fifteen texts within minutes, another fifteen pile up, their content always the same - Hinata, you don't care, and you aren't taking our relationship seriously. He's a bit fed up with constantly reassuring Komaeda that he likes him and loves him, tired of dealing with either borderline suicidal or anxious question-filled texts, followed up by angry calls.

Eventually, he starts turning off his phone during work hours, openly bitching about Komaeda to his co-workers and dissing him out with Souda. That fun, lighthearted mood usually gets ruined whenever his shift ends and Hinata steps outside through the employee entrance, only to find his boyfriend waiting for him there, green eyes gleaming eerily in the dimmed orange lights. They banter, argue, and it always ends in angry sex that often involves wine-spilling, biting, scratching, and tying up. There is no cuddling involved afterwards.

He's glad that at least his other friends don't know about his dirty little secret that goes by the name of Komaeda Nagito, but that happiness is rather short-lived when the presence of Sonia Nevermind graces their dull bar. Immediately, at least five men offer to buy her a drink, and make space for her to sit down at the bar. Souda excitedly jumps at the opportunity to fulfill her every whim and tries his best to make her the most delicious of drinks. She asks them to come to a party, held in her mansion on the following Friday. Kuzuryuu refuses immediately, and doesn't want to let them off the hook either because that wouldn't be fair, but Sonia quickly activates her princess-like power of authority, so the short man reluctantly agrees to let them go for at least one night.

Normally, Hinata would've been more than excited to go - Sonia's parties are the best and he's made many great memories with his friends during them - but unfortunately for him, situated on Sonia's left side, sits a very pissed off looking Komaeda, glaring at the woman like she's somehow managed to personally offend him. Hinata knows that this cannot possibly end well, but when her green eyes - that are too much like Komaeda's, except warmer and sunnier - turn his way, sparkling with expectations unspoken, he still hesitates to tell her no. Twin pairs of green eyes drill holes into him, and Hinata is quick to relent to the stare that practically screams 'say no, tell her no!'.

"I… I don't know, Sonia…" he starts off with a heavy heart, and a wave of familiar poisonous anger swells inside his heart. Komaeda, Komaeda, Komaeda - everything's always about that guy. "You see, I already have something planned…"

She looks understandably upset. Her lipgloss-covered lips form a small 'o'. "Oh, I see… what do you have planned, Hinata? You never skip out on these tiny celebrations that we hold every now and then."

Before he can answer, Komaeda speaks up, voice unnaturally cheerful. There's an underlying hint of coldness to it. "Ah, I am sorry to interrupt your conversation, but Hinata-kun… He's with me."

Hinata's about to lunge across the bar to wring his pretty little head off, ready to shake him or perhaps even punch him and tell him to shut up, stop acting like a selfish prick, while Sonia continues staring, highly confused. She pats her chin with one perfectly manicured nail and her eyes light up as she claps her hands together. "I see! How about you join us, uhh…" She tilts her head to the side - all cuteness and politeness, like a true princess.

Souda looks like he's being buried alive. He frantically shakes his head, trying to silence the curious woman. She doesn't seem to notice it, full attention focused on the stranger beside her, fingers politely interlaced.

"Komaeda," the tall man offers, tone dispassionate, gleaming eyes fixed on Hinata's. Souda looks ready to bash Komaeda's head against the bar top for dismissing his lovely Sonia like that, but before he can insult the other and start a fight, Sonia interjects. "Komaeda-san, would you like to accompany Hinata and join our party? You're more than welcome!"

"I don't think this is a good idea, Sonia. We probably shouldn't—"

But before Hinata can finish that sentence, Komaeda speaks up with the sliest, fakest grin plastered on his face.

"It would be our pleasure, Sonia-san!" That voice drips pretend enthusiasm and Hinata sincerely hopes that Sonia isn't actually naïve enough to fall for Komaeda's obvious manipulation tactics. "Hinata-kun and l will make sure to be there and we won't be late."

"Splendid!" The foreigner gleefully claps her hands together yet again, perfect smile so bright it's almost blinding. Hinata barely resists the painful urge to tell her that she's being wrapped around that asshole's pinky finger, but somehow holds himself back, the tense muscle in his jaw twitching dangerously. Sonia opens her purse and roams around in it but doesn't seem to find what she's looking for, a worried look etched on her pretty face. "I cannot seem to find my wallet. Souda, can you please—"

She doesn't have to finish the sentence when the man bows like some sort of butler and beams. "Of course, I will gladly pay for your drinks."

"I'll pay you back. I really did forget my wallet, silly me…" She shoots up from the stool and zips her designer purse which probably cost more than Hinata's monthly paycheck. "I'm sorry! I guess I'll be seeing you all at the party."

With that, she rushes out. Souda continues humming happily, fishing out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

Hinata's still shocked by the unexpectedly smooth outcome when he hears Komaeda's audible snort over the background noise. He glares at the man, who only keeps his gaze fixed on the scuffed stool that the blonde woman had occupied, swirling his usual choice of drink inside its glass. A sly smile is plastered on Komaeda's face. "I like her," he laughs in a mischievous way, taking a small sip of the dark red liquid. "She had her wallet all along."

Hinata absolutely refuses to believe that Sonia would ever do something this cruel. Dragging Souda around on a tight leash, asking him to take care of her expenses when she probably has enough money to buy a small country in Europe? Not likely. Hinata figures that this is yet another pitiful stunt pulled by Komaeda in order to get off the hook without any lasting consequences. Disappointed, he huffs and places his palms on his hips, a storm brewing in his body. "Don't make shit up! Anyways, what the fuck was up with that? Not only do you find immense joy in controlling my life, but now you're going to try and butt into it, too? Who the hell do you think you are!?"

Komaeda's smile is gone with the wind. His expression morphs into something deceptively blank when he pins Hinata with an indifferent gaze. He calmly sets his glass down, eyes shadowed and menacing in the dim red lights.

"Hinata-kun, we need to talk once you're done with your shift."

Those are the words that he dreads the most.

That night, they fight again, but Komaeda still gets his way and goes to Sonia's party.

He doesn't know what's worse. The way they come out as a couple to most of Hinata's unknowing friends, the fact that despite Komaeda being a pretentious dick, the partygoers still end up liking him, or the fact that Nanami… well, about that a bit later. The truth is that Hinata doesn't know what to do anymore. Komaeda expertly plays the role of the world's greatest gentleman, and not even Souda, who eyes the man like he's a piece of shit stuck to the back of his boot, can ruin the perfected act. Komaeda is composed, well-mannered, and he even manages to charm Mahiro Koizumi, who trusts men about as much as she trusts snakes, and that in itself is a huge accomplishment.

That night, Hinata realizes that Komaeda manipulates people as though it is his profession, and it's almost impossible to tell where the honesty begins and the lies end, especially if you haven't known him for a longer period of time.

It's undeniably good that he gets along with mostly everyone, so it could've been much worse. When Hinata starts thinking that perhaps this isn't so bad - despite Nanami's pointed stares and her not talking to him at all, of course - Sonia's annual party games begin and Hinata's night goes from semi-decent to worse.

He ends up crammed into a frilly maid outfit belonging to one of Sonia's many servants, and he's never felt more degraded in his entire life, especially when Saionji tells him what a pretty woman he makes. Mentally, he curses out Souda because this is entirely his fault, and the fact that the number on Sonia's chopstick is way too similar to his. Then again, the magenta-haired man looks like he's ready to burst a vein from laughing so hard. It doesn't help that Koizumi keeps snapping pics of him when he specifically asked her not to. At least all of them are drunk as hell, with the exception of Hinata, who either stays away from alcohol or pretends to be drinking it.

The game keeps going. He watches Gundam make his best chicken impression and tries hard to ignore Komaeda's lingering, heated gaze. The man keeps inching closer, pale face unnaturally red. Hinata scoots away and busies himself with playing with Gundam's pet hamsters, trying to chew off the white ribbon of the maid uniform - god, why couldn't he change out of it yet? It does not take long before Komaeda breaches his personal space, tongue hot against the shell of his ear. Hinata shoves him away with enough force to send him sprawling out on the floor, and prays that no one has seen him do it. He's in luck - everyone else is far too busy guessing and yelling over each other to pay any attention to their surroundings. Hinata rises from the floor and shakes off a tipsy Saionji, who keeps whining that he cannot take off the pretty French maid outfit because the game is still far from over. He ignores her and leaves, walking down the many spacious corridors of Sonia's mansion, in search of a calm place to change. He does not need Komaeda getting it out of his pants to molest him in front of the group of people who still don't know that they're together.

And he'd much rather have it stay that way.

Of course, when you wish for something good to happen hard enough, the exact opposite occurs. It's only how this world works. He finds a storage room that's as big as his own room. It's not like it matters - he's not getting completely naked and it won't take long - but once he opens the door, he feels lean arms wrap around his middle. He doesn't need to look to know who it is.

"I think I told you to keep it in your pants until tomorrow."

Komaeda drags the tip of his sharp nose over his shoulder, exhaling softly against the thin fabric. Involuntarily, Hinata gets hot. "Everyone is busy with their little game; it'll be a while before they notice that we're gone." Hinata knows that it's true but doesn't say anything. "By the way, they're right… you look really good with this on. See? I can't keep my hands to myself!" As if to make a point, one hand slips under the skimpy thing that is most definitely not a skirt - he has belts longer than that. Hinata thinks, fuck it, it's not like he can deny the fact that he is growing hard against the asshole's sweaty palm, only the thin material of his boxers separating them. His underwear gets pushed out of the way soon enough, and all Hinata can do is squeeze out a flustered, "You're sick. Just h-how many disgusting kinks do you have!?"

"A lot," Komaeda drawls out against his ear, gently biting down. "And don't even try to tell me that you aren't enjoying this, Hinata-kun, because this," His thumb rubs over that sensitive spot on his twitching dick and Hinata hates the guy for remembering every single detail that makes him weak in the knees, "Is telling a different story. "

"You're a fucking asshole."

"Yet you're still here, Hinata-kun."

The brown-haired man shivers and dimly thinks that he's always hated the way his name rolls off the bastard's tongue like a piece of candy, and he knows that Komaeda's aware of that - that's why he keeps saying it, over and over again.

He never would have thought that one day Sonia's party would end up with him getting a surprise blowjob in the supply closet. But fuck it, who cares, this feels too good, and he doesn't even think that this might be somewhat inappropriate. No one's looking for them, and Komaeda is just really fucking skilled with his cursed tongue, so Hinata happily allows it. The back of his head painfully smacks against the wall and he bites his lower lip to keep himself from screaming out in pleasure when Komaeda finally gets down on his knees, desperate and drooling like a whore in heat. Hinata's mind goes completely blank when the hands settled on his ass squeeze hard.

The door bursts open and reveals fucking Sonia Nevermind standing in the doorway, expression innocent, as though her brain has failed to fully process the indecent imagery before her. Startled out of his lust, Hinata curses and drags down the poor excuse for a skirt, low enough to hide Komaeda's fluffy mane. They must look ridiculous as shit, and he nearly dies from embarrassment. For a few painfully long seconds, the three of them stay very still, right until there's a flash of a camera and Koizumi has all of the evidence she needs.

Saionji's scream is shrill in his ears when she howls, "The drug dealer is ravaging the French maid!"

It's the absolute worst, so he quickly heads back to his assigned room, ears burning red with shame. Komaeda doesn't look one bit embarrassed, like the concept of modesty is completely non-existent in his twisted brain.

When Komaeda comes back to the room and lies down beside him, Hinata pretends that he's deeply asleep, hiding under a blanket. The barrier does nothing to stop the taller man from reaching out, and in the morning, they wake up wrapped around each other like a couple of vines.

Hinata is sure that Nanami's reaction is by far the worst. Hinata's also certain that Nanami is a catalyst to all of his troubles. He doesn't blame her. It's not her fault, but he still can't help but think of his best friend as such.

When they rise, Komaeda says that he's got everything covered, and that no one will bother him about this. True to his word, they do not. He's not too sure what the white-haired man had told them, but somehow, his friends completely ignore the fact that they had found Hinata Hajime hidden inside a closet, wearing a maid uniform and getting sucked off into oblivion. In fact, they seem completely okay with it. All except for one.

While not ashamed himself, Komaeda looks like he is really, truly sorry about the was he acted last night, and he even brings Hinata coffee a sign of apology - perfectly brewed, exactly like the one he drinks every morning. They're about to have a calm conversation when there's an audible banging on the door. Komaeda looks just as confused as Hinata feels, and when he goes to open the door, Hinata nearly spills the hot beverage all over the pristine carpet.

Before him, stands Nanami Chiaki, expression dazed as usual, however, her eyes betray seriousness. The downturn of her lips indicates that she's either angry or deeply disappointed.

When Komaeda situates himself behind Hinata and rests against the doorframe, glaring at the intruder as though she just spit in his face, the room temperature seemingly drops.

"Is there something you need?" The white-haired man's voice is sharp and icy, straight to the point, but the woman appears to be entirely unaffected by the chilly tone. She stands her ground, meeting the hateful glare with one of her own. She looks terrifying like this and Hinata's never seen this before - never would have thought that the sweet girl that he's known since childhood had it in her to look this menacing.

"…I'm here to speak to Hinata." The pause is still there. Nanami glances his way. Hinata moves to place the coffee on the glass table. Komaeda ignores it.

"He's not feeling well. Come back later." It's said like an order, but Nanami doesn't even spare him a sideways glance.

"I don't think I was talking to you," she states curtly, pushing past him to grab Hinata's wrist, her fierce gaze conveying that she will not be taking "no" for an answer. "…Worry not, I won't place any of my 'magical vagina-bearer charms' on him. I'll return him uninjured right after we talk. Alone." She glances over her shoulder, and when Komaeda makes no move to leave, Nanami mutters a quiet 'well then', dragging the brunet into the hallway regardless.

Hinata feels like he's just swallowed a tub of ice cream whole, even more so when he finally catches a glimpse of Komaeda's stony expression. Never has he seen the other look so angered and irritated, downright murderous, and he swears that he even hears an offended 'bitch' muttered Nanami's way. With an audible bang, she closes the door behind them. Hinata's not too sure that he'll want to deal with whatever comes afterwards, but that thought is cut short when Nanami nearly shoves him against a wall once they're further away, pinning him down in place with the force of her probing stare alone.

There's an awkward pause. The man refuses to look her way, stewing in gnawing guilt. Nanami speaks up. "…I knew that you were desperate to get a girlfriend, but I never would've thought that you're that desperate."

It sounds like an insult. He flinches back. "It's not that…"

"Then what is it? Why are you with him? Look, I'm not trying to say that I'm jealous - in fact, forget that one completely, because that thing between us isn't something to mourn over - but I am worried… I talked with Ibuki-chan and Souda-kun… They told me what he's like. They told me what's really happening."

At that, Hinata feels anger rising in his chest. It's far too early for this shit. "And what did they tell you, huh? That he fucking beats me or some shit? That he's a creepy stalker who doesn't let me talk to others without supervision? Did they say that he's some sort of psychopath and that I am absolutely fucking insane for considering the possibility—"

"First of all, I would like you to stop shouting. There is no need to get riled up like this. I didn't even finish my sentence." Her frown is deep and her voice is strangely high-pitched. "Second of all, yes, I've heard some things, but no one thinks of him as some crazy psychopath who cannot tell love and obsession apart. True, he sounds like he needs professional care–"

"He's not a fucking psycho." Hinata tries his best to keep his voice down, the sudden urge to protect Komaeda too strong. What do they know about him? They know nothing. But then again, does Hinata really know the man himself…?

"Again, I am not saying that. There is no need to get defensive. I just wanted to tell you that what the two of you are going through is the exact definition of an unhealthy relationship. He needs to relent because this is hurting both of you. I don't really care about him - well, I kind of do, because he's got lots of problems - but I care for you more. I truly do. You're my best friend, Hajime, and I want you to be happy. I want us to be able to converse without someone giving you shit for it. "

She places a palm on her chest and she looks so damn sincere – he can tell because she hardly uses his first name - at that very moment, that it takes everything Hinata has to not break down crying, consumed by pent up frustration. He wants to hug his best friend senseless. There is a good reason why they have stuck together for so many years. Nanami doesn't want anything bad to happen to him and this… truly unhealthy relationship. She wishes all of the best for Hinata, and for that, he's grateful. The woman is smart and has a level head.

"I thought that you would hate me…" he forces out, rubbing the tip of his nose to stop that violent urge to cry on Nanami's shoulder.

He can almost visualize the question marks popping up above her head when she tilts it to the side, blinking slowly. "…Huh? Why would I ever hate you? You're the one who's refused to talk to me, and I guess now I know the reason behind it." Her gentle eyes cloud with pity when she folds her arms over her chest.

"Just… forget it. It's nothing. Thanks, Chiaki… I'm alright now."

"…It's a pleasure to help. Are you sure you're feeling well, though? You look a bit pale," she leans in close to inspect his ghostly face. Hinata can't stop himself from shivering when Nanami's words finally sink in.

His relationship, this wretched thing between him and Komaeda, is truly twisted, and he barely even noticed it. He tried to overlook the obvious pointers that this wasn't okay - from the constant bombarding with text messages, to the possessive behavior, to… to the murderous looks that Komaeda had shot his best friend's way just because she wanted to talk to him in private. Either something or rather someone had to change or it would be better for everything to just… end.

"Yeah. I've just realized some important things. Thanks for that… again."

She looks at him like she fully understands, and doesn't question him any further. "…I hope that you'll find the resolve to talk to him about this. Don't let him throw you off; it's what people like him are good at. Keep calm and everything is going to work out." She tenderly pats his stiff shoulder and fixes the straps of her pink backpack. "Now that that's settled, I will take my leave. It was nice to finally talk to you and I hope to see you soon, Hinata-kun. My door's always open if you're up for some video games." Nanami smiles at that. Hinata smiles back, knowing that this is her best offer. He says his goodbyes and watches her pad away, right until she disappears behind the corner of the royal-like hallway.

Without much thought, Hinata takes off. Back to the room where Komaeda is waiting for him, undoubtedly going mad with anxiety and ready to interrogate him.

Now he is more than ready to talk, almost eager to settle things between them once and for all.

The scary thing about Komaeda is that when he gets seriously annoyed, instead of raging and smashing stuff like Hinata, he's eerily calm. The smiles that he sends Hinata's way are wavering, crooked. Poisonous. Much to his surprise, this time Komaeda doesn't crowd him, doesn't pester him with a stream of obnoxious questions, or otherwise cling to him. In fact, he doesn't cause any scene. He is serene, too much for it to be considered normal. The only features betraying his fragile state of mind are the glassy eyes and the painful upturn of his pale lips. Still, if he strains his ears hard enough, Hinata swears that he can hear Komaeda muttering to himself, something along the lines of "that shady woman thinks she can do whatever she wants" and "she should just die already!".

"Minus ten points to you, asshole," Hinata thinks, bitter anger swelling up and waiting to be unleashed.

They leave Sonia's mansion without saying goodbye to anyone.

The car ride is quiet. Hinata keeps side-eyeing the driver, only to find that his green eyes are still just as stormy, perfectly reflecting Hinata's own innermost thoughts. He could hardly wait to get home, and once they reach their destination, Hinata is quick to get out of the still-moving car, impatiently waiting for Komaeda to park, foot anxiously tapping against the dirt-stained sidewalk. Komaeda joins him a few seconds later, and this would normally be the part where they either kiss or say their goodbyes, the part where Hinata invites him inside, but neither scenario happens. With one last sigh, the brunet gathers the measly remains of his dwindling courage, closes his eyes, and speaks up, running a shaky hand through his messy hair.

"You know, I…" There are a number of things he wants to say. I don't think this is going to work out. This is not working out; you're ruining everything. Why are you so fucked up? Why is this so hard for me to say? Why does it hurt to say it in the first place? Why can't you see? "I think we need some time apart," he finishes lamely, and doesn't dare to look at the other's face. He doesn't know what to expect. Tears, the usual clinginess, shouting, maybe anger? A punch thrown his way?

However, none of that comes. He reluctantly looks up to face Komaeda, only to be met with a blank expression, void of emotion. The heavy silence keeps stretching on, right until those heavy words finally sink in, like knives into the flesh.

"I knew it," is all Komaeda says, deadpan.

"I… you did?" Hinata doesn't dare to believe that perhaps this can end smoothly. Nothing ever goes smoothly with Komaeda.

As predicted, he is right. Those beautiful, wonderful eyes find his. The taller man's fists clench by his sides. "What did she tell you? What did she say to you?"

"I—"

"She made you do this, right? It's all her fault, right, Hinata? It's always her and her," Komaeda's voice gets louder with every passing second. He shudders, shaking his head in disbelief. A smile that is so, so out of place tugs at his dry lips. A mirthless laugh escapes him when Komaeda brings his trembling hands to his face, staring at them intently. 

He looks so far away. 

"I don't understand, what are you—"

"It's always someone else. It's always you. Then again, what should I expect in return from a human being such as yourself? I'm nothing more than a piece of trash, absolute garbage undeserving of your attention, of your love. You'd rather give it to someone who is your equal, right? Someone who walks the same path as you, even though she's just a filthy nobody, a liar who just happens to shine a little more brightly than the rest of the worms like me. Of course, she attracts more attention—"

It's like he's talking about someone else entirely.

Hinata cannot bear to listen to this any further. 

"Stop."

"I understand why you'd choose someone like her! I really do, b-but—! She's undeserving of you, Hinata-kun! She doesn't understand you like I do. Even though I'm not worth anything, the time that you've given me, I still value it far more than that trash does. It's me that you need, me alone, not some- some nobody. You need someone who can stay by your side, someone who can love you unconditionally." The overwhelming darkness of Komaeda's warped thoughts finally seeps into those bright eyes, tainting them. It is tragically beautiful, captivating almost, and Hinata cannot find it in himself to look away, peering into the prison of Komaeda's mind. The taller man is quick to close in, seizing Hinata's wrists in a clammy grip, hard enough to leave bruises. Hinata weakly struggles against his binds to test them out, but the vice only tightens.

"No, it has nothing to do with her. I'm doing this for myself. Let go."

"I was there when you needed someone, Hinata-kun. I was there to keep you steady. Me! And yet... yet you still choose her over me."

"Let go."

"Don't disappoint me," Komaeda hisses, spiteful, shaking his prisoner's hands. "Please don't disappoint me like you did today. Even though I'm nothing, you still love me. You still feel it." The surfacing anger is quickly replaced by desperation, making way for sadness. Hinata has to forcefully wrench his arms away, even though that proves to be quite a difficult thing to do. Unfortunately, the two of them are equals in strength.

"Komaeda, shut up," he groans. The white-haired man lets out a strangled noise, a cross between a muffled sob and a hack, yet he keeps his mouth shut. "I'm going to tell you this once, so you better fucking listen up and listen to me well. And don't interrupt me. This has nothing to do with Chiaki, and no, don't fucking look at me like that, because it's the truth. She's my friend, a concept that I've seemingly forgotten, after I - surprise, surprise - started seeing you. I can't spend three minutes without feeling like you own me. I can't say a word to my friends without your approval. If I wanted someone to control every damn thing in my life, I'd still be living with my parents, but I can clearly see that this concept completely eludes you." He doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but this has to be said and done. As painful as it is. He has to speak his mind even at the risk of hurting the one he loves.

Komaeda looks like he's downright ready to die, but the anger that Hinata has kept inside for more than a month now is finally clawing its way to the surface, unforgiving. "I may love you as fucked up as you are, yes, I admit that I fell in love with you somewhere along the line, and I was perfectly willing to not notice this or call you out on it, but… I'm not sure if anyone's ever told you this before - maybe they haven't because you fucking scared them away before they even had the chance - but you got some serious mental issues and you ought to see a specialist. And I'm not saying this for the sake of being a complete dick, but from the goodness of my heart. I just fucking can't deal with your issues. You have to deal with them yourself instead of piling them on my shoulders by ruining everything for me. I tried to help you, Komaeda, I really did, but you constantly pushed me away. Get your shit together, and once you do, maybe then we can work around this. But for now… we need to go our separate ways. It'd be for the best if we didn't see each other for a while."

Hinata is breathing heavily, chest weighed down, yet light at the same time, like a massive burden has just been lifted off his tired, aching shoulders. He feels content with himself, right until he notices the watery look that Komaeda is giving him. The man's jaw is slack with mute shock and those sad eyes shine with hurt and betrayal. He seems so damn broken, as though Hinata has just ripped his heart out, pulsing and alive, squeezed it, and then threw it on the ground only to dig his heel into it. He might as well have done all of that and then some - Komaeda is certain that it would've stung less.

The white-haired man breathes out, slow and ragged, biting back the overwhelming grief threatening to choke him.

"You have no idea just how much I adore you. It's wrong and disgusting, but it's honest." He places a hand on his chest and squeezes right where his heart beats, so hard that his knuckles turn white. "It's pure and I am not selfish."

Hinata feels his jaw drop at that. Just how much of his speech has gotten through that thick head of his? He laughs incredulously at that. "You're such a comfortable liar, aren't you? Saying that you're not selfish… I've never seen anyone more possessive than you. But sure. Keep thinking like that. It's none of my business anymore."

It's enough to say this one little phrase for all hell to break loose. Komaeda promptly loses the final remains of his measly dignity and pleads, begs, while Hinata tries very hard to not think about the angry looks that the passersby send their way. His face heats with shame.

"Hi-Hinata-kun, come on! Don't… don't say that. Just say the word, and I'll try to make things right again. I'll do anything just— just please don't walk out on me. I've never loved anyone like this." Komaeda looks close to tears again and he's almost hyperventilating, pupils dilated. "I'll die. I'm going to die without you! I need you t-too much."

Hinata notices that Komaeda is starting to take drastic measures to make him stay, resorting to new tricks, and what hurts the brunet the most, is that he's not willing to let go of him. Komaeda keeps trying to talk himself into believing that this is not real, this cannot be happening - that this fragile thing that they have between them has finally been broken. Hinata pities him, he really does, but he tries not to get swayed by any of it, Chiaki's warnings ringing clearly inside his head.

This is what they're good at. This is Komaeda's specialty. Lying. Not saying the truth.

He is such a pathetic liar.

"Stop. Stop it, Komaeda, you're making a scene."

"I don't fucking care!" the dark glare that Komaeda shoots his way is scary to say the least. Hinata flinches back. The man turns teary-eyed within seconds. "They can think whatever they want, those ordinary people. What do they know? You're better than the rest of them. They will never appreciate you like I do. I love you. I love you. So please don't walk away, Hinata-kun. My Hinata-kun, Hajime—"

It hits like a lightning bolt from clear skies. With finality, Hinata pushes the man away, and turns around, running like the coward that he is, because if he stays there a second longer, then all of this will be for naught. It's going to be over and nothing will change. He forces a respectable amount of distance between them and turns on his heel to shout, "Don't you even dare to follow me. Just fuck off already!"

Komaeda lets his extended arm drop, wrapping his thin arms around himself, shaking like a leaf in the wind, but he doesn't follow. Their eye contact breaks when the taller one looks down at his reflection, distorted by the rippling surface of a small puddle near his black sneakers. Hinata stares, thinks that this is it, he's finally managed to break the single person he's ever truly loved, and starts running again, hot, angry tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

They never do.

He feels like a bird that has just flown out of its cage after being kept in there for so long, but just like the bird, he also feels a certain longing for it, a need to return to his loving "master". The familiarity. 

His legs pad harshly against the pavement, breath turning ragged, but he doesn't stop. More than anything else in the world, Hinata wants to go back, but he cannot because he had to fuck this up in order to return to his normal life. In the end, it'll all be worth it. This is better for both of them.

His friends are his anchor. For the next five days, he stays over at Nanami's place just in case Komaeda decides to look for him. His phone is turned off and his mood is shitty, but the pink-haired woman makes it slightly more bearable. They crash on the sofa together, eat copious amounts of junk food, and play video games. Nanami tries to convince Hinata that Komaeda was a dick to begin with, and therefore, undeserving of his time, makes some bad jokes about it to ease the mood, and then they go back to their TV shows.

She still has to go to work at the game shop. Hinata uses her phone to call Kuzuryuu, informing him that he won't be coming to work for another two weeks because he's sick. The apartment is small and too pink for his personal tastes, but it's nice. He spends his mornings lazing around in Nanamis stuffed toy piles, doing absolutely nothing. It quickly gets boring, sure, but it's better than being alone. He cuddles Nanami's pet rabbit Usami, and the bunny develops a certain connection with him. Hinata runs his fingers through the soft white fur and tries not to think about how it reminds him of Komaeda.

He doesn't succeed.

That day, Nanami comes home to the sight of Hinata sleeping with the bunny nestled on his face, stifles a laugh, and shakes her friend awake for another round of video games.

Five days later, Hinata finally gathers the courage - after a lot of pressure from Chiaki - to turn his phone back on to check it. It is flooded with missed calls and text messages from his friends, but surprisingly, none are from Komaeda. He doesn't know whether he's relieved or worried.

There's a single voicemail, but he deletes it without listening to it, along with Komaeda's phone number. He can't delete it from his memory, though.

He leaves Nanami's place with an even heavier heart. His apartment is cold and uninviting, there's a layer of dust gathered on the table, and Hinata thinks that maybe he also needs a pet, just like Nanami. He decides against it once he remembers that it's a huge responsibility and cleaning after it is a lot of work, or so he thinks after all of those stories that he's heard from Gundam.

Besides, Hinata has heard that animals can die from loneliness.

He wonders if he can, too.

Hinata is quick to change his mind and decides that he should return to work on the following week. People treat him like they usually do, like nothing changed whatsoever, and Hinata remembers that they don't even know what happened. Nobody knows what happened between him and the white-haired man.

Kuzuryuu even looks happy when he sees that there's no more pale hair sticking out anywhere, and gives Hinata a longer break for no reason in particular. He watches Mioda juggle the bottles, filling a row of shot glasses before her without spilling a single drop. The small crowd gathered around the bar applauds politely as she bows theatrically, thanking them for witnessing 'The Super Duper Amazing Ibuki Show'. That evening, she gets bigger tips than the rest of them, but Hinata doesn't care and keeps checking his phone out of habit. Nanami texts him a few times to make sure that he's alright, but he doesn't bother to put much into his responses, settling for simple 'yeah' and 'ok's. Ibuki eyes the phone suspiciously and sniffs the air.

"Ibuki's nose may not be good, but I can smeeeeell distress coming from you! Also Ibuki fails to hear any buzzing of tons and tooons of missed messages. What's up, Hajime-chan? Where is your one-man weirdo exhibition?"

Before Hinata can open his mouth to say anything, Souda comes up to them and points somewhere behind his back. "Code Douchebag, target spotted at 8 o'clock."

Hinata freezes up in his spot and feels weak in the knees, ready to throw up. His co-workers closely study his face and Souda holds him up just in case his legs do decide to give out completely.

"Hajime-chan is pale like fresh snow. Is it because of Mister Weirdo over there?"

"Seriously, man, you don't look so good." Souda shakes him a little. Hinata keeps looking at the space between them, honey-hued eyes wide. "Is that guy giving you trouble? I can go and talk to him if you want." He says that, but the slight tremor in his voice betrays the fact that Souda wants to be nowhere near Komaeda's table.

Before Hinata can come up with any valid response, Ibuki brings Kuzuryuu into the mix. The short man fumes angrily. "What the fuck happened?" He looks over the crowd, and Hinata doesn't need to say anything more. "Oh. That psycho. Why am I not surprised? If you want, you can leave early today." The three of them gape at their boss as though he's just grown a second head or started spewing fire. Kuzuryuu never lets people leave early unless the excuse is really fucking convincing. Ibuki even lets out a small 'wow' of admiration. The man ignores them. "I can tell that something went down and will I be correct when I say that your sudden absence is all because of that guy?"

"I-"

"Don't fucking stutter like a little bitch. Yes or no?" Kuzuryuu stands straight as an arrow and he's really fucking intimidating. Don't ever let the kid-like features fool you.

"Yeah. It's not like—"

"Save your fucking life story for someone who cares, and that person sure as hell ain't me. You lied. Cleaning duty for the rest of the month. And now, get your fat ass out of here before he swims over here to look for you. Settle whatever issues you got. I don't need any more of the creepy vibe, got that? Good. Out of my sight." Kuzuryuu nearly manhandles him through the backdoor and into the break room where they store their spare booze crates and leave their stuff for the night. With a sigh, Hinata takes off his apron and thinks that this is probably for the best.

Komaeda keeps showing up, but doesn't approach Hinata, just keeps staring him down from the distance, like Hinata is something that he cannot reach out to. It feels like they're back to square one with Hinata serving drinks and trying to ignore Komaeda, while the aforementioned man sits all by his lonesome and sips his gross wine. Whenever their eyes do happen to meet, there's a certain pang of guilt in his stomach, and an intense longing clenches his heart, but Hinata waves those pesky thoughts away. Back to strangers.

Hinata breaks a glass, cutting up his palms in the process. Small pieces of shards stick in the reddened flesh, droplets of crimson ooze to the floor. Kuzuryuu kicks him out and instructs Ibuki to fix him up. When he emerges, the white-haired man is gone.

Two weeks later, Komaeda disappears from his life completely, and the bar no longer feels the same.

Months pass. Weddings happen, ones that Hinata reluctantly attends. Relationships and breakups, new friendships, new meetings. Kuzuryuu is a dad now, and Hinata can hardly believe that he's still emotionally stuck in the time he's spent with Komaeda. Can't believe that he's still stuck in the past, the times when they had gone to the seaside to watch the sunrises together. If he closes his eyes, he can still recall the feeling of wet sand coating his feet, stray grains clinging to his ankles, washed away by the gurgling waves. The way the early morning light had reflected off Komaeda's pale hair. The salty breeze, the laughter, the feeling of their fingers laced together.

It's a lot like feeling homesick.

He misses him.

And a tiny part of Hinata hopes that Komaeda misses him, too.

Eventually, Hinata decides to move on. What good will it do, staying in the past with someone whom you've dated for barely a month? Koizumi wisely, and unhelpfully, says that first love is forever etched into one's mind. Hinata hopes that she is sorely wrong.

When he turns twenty-five, he quits his job at Kuzuryuu family's bar. Sonia throws a goodbye party that, surprisingly, everyone attends. Hinata thinks that it's a bit stupid and unnecessary - it's not like he is moving away. He just got himself a new job with better pay and more decent work hours, but Sonia says that it's vitally necessary for him to say a proper goodbye to the first job he's ever had - one that he wouldn't have managed to land if it weren't for their combined efforts.

Ibuki cries into his shoulder and says that she's going to miss juggling whiskey bottles with him, and even Kuzuryuu looks like he gives a damn. Well, half a damn at least, but that's a lot. The short man watches his son crawling around on Sonia's plush carpet, while Ibuki plays with him and coos over how cute the little boy is. Hinata thinks that the kid really is cute, even more so when he's not crying. He's a perfect copy of his father, but his eyes are dark red, just like his mother's. Hinata has never come to like children, but when he looks at the warmth reflected in Kuzuryuu's eyes, he feels a pang of envy.

He leaves the party right before midnight.

Hinata thinks that compared to his colorful experiences in the bar, this new job is boring, but as long as the pay is good, he is willing to put up with all kinds of shit. This was his main resolve back when he first started working at the bar, too. He has a hard time trying to adjust to his new sleep schedule, and sometimes ends up running late because he needs to take the bullet train - his workplace is located halfway across the city. Nanami suggests teaching him how to drive, but he refuses. He comes to enjoy the hour-long commutes, specifically whenever he plugs the earphones into his ears and listens to music.

Hinata is quick to climb the ladder of promotion. His boss, Makoto Naegi, quickly takes a liking to him and Hinata's eagerness to simply do something - work, learn, observe others. It doesn't take long before he starts working together with Miss Kirigiri herself, a kind, yet strict woman, who had taught him all of the basics when he first joined the company and who had been his superior for a long while.

Hinata meets all kinds of different people, develops even more friendships, and genuinely starts enjoying his job. 

Despite everything, whenever he does come back home, tired and worn out by a day of intense labour, filled with typing and frantic fixing of mistakes, and falls down face-first into his bed without bothering to take off his shoes, he thinks that he's lonely. He misses Hope's bar, misses its unique atmosphere, and his friends. The apartment is just as quiet as it had been a year ago, and the year before that. It will probably stay that way in the future as well.

Maybe he really does need a pet.

Months turn into years, and the only things left to remind them of the time their group spends together, are caught in Koizumi's film. When Hinata turns twenty-six, Ibuki moves to America to make herself big. He sees her on magazine covers and laughs to himself because he never would've thought that the klutzy girl, who used to serve cheap drinks in a shady bar and sing in unfamiliar languages, could ever reach such heights. Hinata decides that he's going to miss her.

He witnesses Souda finally accepting the inevitable and moving on - Sonia will never favor him as much as Gundam. In order to celebrate this grand realization, the punk cuts his hair short and dyes it black. They all make fun of him.

Together, they watch Togami lose weight, and start to enjoy the feeling of money. They assume that it's a positive change. Ibuki disagrees once Koizumi sends her the photos. She fusses that her Byakuya-chan is no longer round and fluffy. Kuzuryuu's kid grows more and more with Hinata's every semi-frequent visit, and he cannot believe it when the energetic boy wobbles up to him on unsteady legs and clings to his shin, calling him Hajime - most likely Ibuki's influence.

Nanami too finds herself a worthy man who, apparently, doesn't bore her - a huge achievement. Hinata approves of him, glad that Chiaki has finally found herself letting go. She advises Hinata to do the same when the brown-haired man returns from yet another office wedding.

He lies that he already has, but Chiaki knows better. They spend the night together on her couch and talk about the old times, but carefully avoid mentioning him.

Time keeps ticking by. Hinata can barely notice when spring turns into summer, summer into autumn, autumn into winter, and so on. It's like time has sped up twice, yet at the same time, it feels quite the opposite, like his days are dragging out, blurring together. He's okay with the fact that he's going to spend the rest of his lifespan as a loner, but for some reason, he cannot find it in himself to care that much.

Hinata is twenty-seven years old when he adopts a cute little puppy that keeps him company back home. He has a wonderful job, amazing friends, and that is enough.

That morning, he walks to the train station instead of biking there, and wraps the red scarf tighter around his neck. It's still far too cold for April, and he cannot wait until the weather gets warmer, because he can't stand this cold. The sky is far too blue, cloudless and vast, and the sun hurts his sleepless eyes a little too much, but overall it looks like it's going to be a nice day.

People swarm around him, men and women alike, waiting for their respective trains. Hinata looks at the huge clock hanging above his head and notices that his is next. The crowd only grows bigger once it screeches to a grinding halt, and Hinata patiently waits for the more obnoxious ones to get in, so that he can follow after.

In the end, he never boards that train.

He tries to elbow past some guy blocking his path when cool fingers wrap around his wrist, and he stands completely still, too afraid to look over his shoulder to see who it is. It's not uncommon for people to get their things stolen in broad daylight and he is wary enough after he had witnessed a few of such accidents unfolding right before his eyes. When the person doesn't offer anything in return, he sucks in a sharp breath, turning on his heel.

"Can I help you with some—"

The words die down in the back of his throat and his jaw feels slack once he notices the familiar white mane of fluffy hair and a gentle smile. Shocked, Hinata just stands there, as though struck by lightning, drinking in the taller man's appearance.

He looks undeniably different. His skin is no longer deathly pale and has a proper, healthy hue to it. The man no longer carries the aura of a sickly Victorian peasant either. His form is far more filled out and less awkward around the edges - it's almost as though he has finally managed to grow into his too-tall and gangly frame. His shoulders are broader, back set straighter, and Hinata can see that his torso is thicker as well, wrapped up in a long, woolen coat.

The man before him exhales. Warm mist comes out of his mouth and he looks like he's about to laugh. Hinata cannot help himself, he has to look into those eyes that he misses so, the eyes that he's dreamt about so many times, like some love-struck teenage girl. Green meet yellow, and Hinata's teeth worry at his lower lip when he notices that there's something lacking there. They are no longer cold, and there are no hints of that clogging, underlying darkness, threatening to consume them. Instead, his wonderfully green eyes sparkle with happiness and tenderness, much like Sonia's do.

His lips move a couple of times, but no words come out, until Hinata hears an unfamiliar voice croak out, "K-Komaeda…"

Komaeda Nagito in the flesh stands in front of Hinata Hajime after almost four years of radio silence, and Hinata feels like pinching himself because there is no way that any of this is real. The world around them seemingly disappears completely and Hinata doesn't even care that his train is leaving him behind or that he needs to get to work, and that his next one is only going to arrive after an hour. It's just the two of them, standing before each other inside this small world of their making.

"Found you, Hinata-kun." Komaeda laughs good-naturedly, and his voice is breathy, with no underlying sinister tone to it. No lies, no nothing. Komaeda smiles, almost shyly. They spend a long moment studying each other's faces, and he politely lets go of Hinata's burning wrist. Even then, the ghost of his touch lingers on. "I thought it might be you. That hair is very hard to miss, even in crowded places. It's truly been a while."

Hinata feels that annoying hitch behind his eyelids, threatening to spill over when Komaeda tilts his head to the side. He lets them flow. He knows that he's a grown-ass adult, that there are many people here, but he cries anyways, big fat tears that singe Hinata's flushed face, as anger boils deep within him. He's so damn glad to see Komaeda alive and well, so glad that he hasn't done anything to himself. He's so fucking glad that now he won't have to listen to the news anymore, just in case some flashy suicide happens. He's so glad that he would gladly punch Komaeda in the face for disappearing like that.

The taller one appears to be infinitely confused, lost almost, as though not sure why Hinata's crying to begin with. Komaeda looks like he wants to reach out to comfort him somehow, pat him or hug him, but he relents, keeping himself in control.

"W-Why are you crying, Hinata?"

"Don't you 'Hinata' me! You! You just went away! Disappeared for four years, went God knows where— where were you, anyways!? And now you come back here and say that 'it's been a while'!? Have you no shame, Komaeda?" He furiously rubs at his leaking eyes, but the tears keep running down his face like someone's broken a damn pipe, dripping on the pavement.

Komaeda is surprisingly patient with him. He waits for Hinata to calm down and doesn't say anything until then. He waits for the brunet's uncontrollable shaking to subside, voice tender when he says, "Isn't this what you wanted? You told me to go away, so I did. You cannot blame me for that, especially when you asked for it yourself." With shaking fingers, Komaeda carefully reaches out to take one of Hinata's hands, forest-green eyes fixed on the honey-hued eyes in a silent question of 'may I?'.

Hinata lets him, shivering at the familiar feeling of cool skin against his own. Briefly, he notices that Komaeda's hands have changed as well, fingers no longer as thin, and his palms aren't as wet. "I… I thought about what you said to me back then. A lot." He winces, as though it physically pains him to think about their terrible breakup, and Hinata couldn't agree more. He hated himself for what he'd said back then, berated himself time and time again for being so harsh. He blamed his own immaturity, his inexperience when it came to dealing with romance and hurt feelings. But now he knows better, now he's an adult, and he can freely say the things that he wants without making everything fall apart.

He waits for Komaeda to calm himself, a tiny part of him still anticipating for the man to do something crazy, but the other simply doesn't. He doesn't lace their fingers together and doesn't cling to Hinata either - in fact, he's keeping a respectful distance between them, and Hinata thinks that this person, this stranger before him is not Komaeda, not his Komaeda, not the brat that he once knew. He's someone else, a brand new person entirely, and Hinata's heart swells with pride, the weight of his shoulders slowly going away, and boy, he's been carrying that for a long time now.

He's beautiful, Hinata thinks, even more so after all this time. He has aged finely, just like that disgusting wine that he likes to drink; more mature, healthy. He still looks like someone who he has seen some disturbing shit in life, a bit worn down around the edges, and the small, dark circles beneath his eyes haven't gone away, but everything else appears to be just fine. More than fine. 

"I… I took your words to the heart, Hinata-kun. After some time, I realized that I wasn't really… doing the right thing. Somewhere deep down, I knew that I was wrong, but I just couldn't stop." He trembles with fear, honest fear, and it has nothing to do with the random quivering that Hinata remembers. "…I moved out, left the city, went to see a well-known psychiatrist. Found a therapist, too. I went through a series of treatments. Admittedly, it was a bit terrifying, and they weren't working as well as they were supposed to. It took me a long while to get to where I am; it took me a long while to get better. It's not perfect, but it's close. And here I am." Komaeda smiles bashfully, letting go of Hinata's hand. The latter smites the urge to take it again. Hinata's heartbeat thunders in the back of his throat.

"I… I guess it's good that I met you. I just wanted to tell you that—" Komaeda scratches the back of his head and looks away in shame, not sure what to say after all this time. "I guess I just wanted to say thank you for telling me to get myself together. I-I am fine now, and I guess I'm doing quite well… I hope you're doing well, too!" he flushes, awkwardly fidgeting with the end of his plaid scarf. He takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes. "It was nice meeting you here, Hinata-kun. I'm glad! I—I should probably get going…"

Hinata stares at Komaeda in shock, total and complete astonishment, as though he's just grown a second pale-haired head, and he cannot believe his own damn eyes when Komaeda actually turns away from him. Hinata goes on autopilot, grabbing that thin wrist instead, and he forces the man around, just so that he can take a better look at him.

Komaeda, this Komaeda, is the byproduct of Hinata's fit all those years ago. He's fine, he's no longer insane, and he knows the concept of personal space. He's also… willing to let Hinata go. He doesn't even try to cram himself back into Hinata's life and he didn't search for him to begin with - just when did Komaeda come back to the city? So many questions fly in his head, an incoherent tornado of jumbled thoughts, but Komaeda refuses to look directly at him, whispering silently. "Please let me go. Don't do this to me again. You wanted me to go away, so that's what I'm doing. After all, I do everything that Hinata-kun asks me to," he quotes, laughing bitterly. Gently, as though afraid of breaking him, Komaeda peels away his fingers.

It is Hinata who is left trembling this time around.

"I just have one thing to ask. Be honest with yourself when you answer me. No lies or tricks. Did you really… did you really let go? Did you give up? Are you giving up?"

Long seconds stretch between them. Hinata has to strain his ears to hear the answer. "No. No, I didn't. But I am doing so right now, because all is said and done, yeah?" Komaeda huffs again, but it lacks the humor. It sounds… dead. Resigned. "I respect you and your wishes, so I—"

"No," Hinata cuts off, squeezing that lean wrist tighter. "No, you're running away right now, because you don't want to hear me out. And I want you to hear me out. The Komaeda that I know wouldn't even bother to ask me what I want, and he'd throw himself away without a second thought, but this - this isn't the Komaeda I know, this is someone new. Someone respectable and reasonable. So please hear me out."

The taller man still refuses to look up, but Hinata knows his full attention is on him, so he continues, words flowing freely and without much thought. "I wanted different things, too, but four years have passed, and I think that I've had a lot of time to think this through. First of all, I am proud of you. I am so fucking happy to hear that you took this seriously and that you are now in full control of your life."

"Thanks…" The shy flush of that skin is beautiful. Was it always this nice?

"Second of all, I'm going to be completely honest here… I didn't let go. I didn't let go, because I've always hoped that maybe this… this would really, truly happen. That one day, you will come back home. And – and now you're here and you really changed, you—" Komaeda's eyes are wide, sparkling with some sort of indescribable emotion that makes Hinata's cheeks flush even further and his stutter worsen. He's never seen that much love or affection reflected in anyone's eyes, and figures that one would have to be really fucking in love to look at another person like that. Komaeda's eyes are alive with it, with hope.

"You waited for me." That voice does not tremble, there is no uncertainty. It is said with conviction and Hinata stops mid-rant at the sound of it.

"I—"

"All this time, you… you hoped. You hoped I would come back. And I came back…" It falls into place, like stray puzzle pieces begging to connect, finally revealing the big picture. "Back then… you said that if I was different, if I were to change, I—I'd get a second chance," Komaeda's voice is carefully hopeful, cheeks aflame. He seemingly holds his breath, waiting for clarification.

"I g-guess I did say that…?" Hinata blinks, far too embarrassed to say anything else. 

Komaeda laughs at that, a genuine laugh that makes Hinata's heart jump when he hears it, and he lines their foreheads together, so close they're left breathing each other's air. Komaeda smiles. "Is this you telling me that I am getting a second chance?"

For a moment, Hinata stays quiet, pondering it one last time. Determined, he looks up. "No. It's more like… I'm not ready to make any assumptions just yet. This is more like a trial run. Things may never be the same - God knows, I hope they aren't - but I think you understand what I mean. It's just that—"

Komaeda presses one finger against his lips. "You don't really need to finish that sentence, Hinata-kun. I understand. I'm not going to pressure you into anything. I want… I want you to fall in love with me again. I want to earn the right to that second chance… I also want to…"

Hinata swears that he's going to cry like a damned pansy again, because this is a brand new Komaeda, he's someone else entirely, and he finally cares for himself. He voices out his wants, his needs, and it's no longer just Hinata - it's now Hinata and Komaeda. Just like how it's supposed to be. Just like it was supposed to be four years ago.

"Go ahead." Hinata smiles back, and it's no longer a grimace that he used to wear. Their lips touch, and Hinata accepts the tentative kiss, the soft brush of smooth flesh against his, and the tingling warmth. It's positively electrifying and makes him feel complete, like something precious that had been stolen away, was finally returned to him.

Maybe they really do belong together. Perhaps this is how it's supposed to be. He slings his arms around the other man - ah, has he grown taller? – and brings him closer. It's sweet and innocent, and they stand like this until Hinata can't breathe anymore. The small crowd of high school students waiting for the next train 'ooh's and 'aah's, cheering. Hinata feels like burying himself underneath the ground to avoid all those inquisitive stares and his face burns bright with shame.

"I'll make myself worthy, Hinata-kun." Komaeda promises and smiles in reassurance, lacing their fingers together. "Wait for me some more. We'll take it easy."

"You better not be lying, Nagito," Hinata snorts, and they make their way through the crowd, all the while holding hands. Once they're out in the sun, Hinata thinks that, indeed, he loves watching the way it reflects off those milky strands. The sudden gust of wind sweeping over the train station is strong enough for Komaeda to nearly get smacked across the face by his plaid scarf, running the fragile mood. Hinata only laughs, like today is the perfect day for just that - stupid little things, warm feelings, and skin contact.

"Don't underestimate the power of hope, Hajime. It brings you good things, I've always told you that."

The brown-haired man thinks back and realizes it to be true, probably one of the few honest things that Komaeda has told him. One of the few things that he never lies about.

He follows after the man and thinks that, yes, he believes. And he has hope that things will work out between them and that Komaeda will be true to his promise.

Hinata skips work that day and gets a scolding from Kirigiri for not saying anything beforehand, but he's not too down, because Komaeda is wrapped around him on his bed, and for the first time in a very long time, his apartment feels welcome and his life is a little more complete.