JE, Near Miss

Title: Near Miss
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Totsuka and Yabu’s date nights are non-negotiable, once they manage to schedule it in these days.
AN: Written for Shiritori. I would go on a Yabu/Totsuka dinner/karaoke date so hard. SO HARD.

Near Miss

“Good as new,” Totsuka pronounces solemnly, and that’s enough to send Hashimoto bouncing off with a smile, satisfied that the hot-cold patch he’d slapped on Totsuka’s pulled muscle and sealed with a kiss is doing its job.

Totsuka’s side still pulls painfully when he stands up, but he’s smarter than to let that show on his face if he doesn’t want a bodyguard for the rest of the night. It’s his night to meet with Yabu for dinner and karaoke, and as often as he does either of those things with Hashimoto, Yabu night is non-negotiable once they manage to schedule it these days.

Yabu is already waiting at the restaurant when Totsuka arrives, raising an eyebrow when Totsuka can’t hold back the grunt of pain as he flops into the other side of the izakaya booth. The muscle patch is still dutifully going hot-cold-hot-cold, but it’s more of a distraction than actual pain relief.

“What’s that kid been doing to you?” Yabu asks, then laughs when Totsuka makes long-suffering eyes at him. “It’s your fault for being a cradle-robber, you.”

“Says the mama of Hey! Say! Jailbait,” Totsuka shoots back. He drowns the pain in beer and yakitori soon enough anyway. Their phones sit on the table, both of them vibrating a dozen times apiece during the time they sit there. Totsuka’s phone is face up, and although he doesn’t answer them, he smiles briefly at each emoji-filled text from Hashimoto asking after his condition.

Yabu’s phone is face down, and he doesn’t move to touch it even when the frequency increases.

“I don’t mind,” Totsuka offers, knowing that it’ll only keep going that way.

“Yuya knows what night it is,” Yabu says, eyes on his beer.

On the way to the karaoke place, Yabu loops an arm through Totsuka’s to tug him along, and Totsuka leans into his side easily. They always did fit well together, ever since they were old enough to be friends properly; for some reason Totsuka finds himself thinking about his old crush.

It’s been two, almost three years since that happened. Totsuka remembers exactly the moment it started. They were getting on a crowded train together, on a date night just like this, and as other people had pushed them further into the train, Yabu had wrapped an arm around Totsuka’s waist to make sure they didn’t get separated. Totsuka can still feel the way it felt if he closes his eyes and thinks hard about it, the way Yabu’s arm curled perfectly around him, the way suddenly Totsuka’s heart skipped a couple beats in a row.

He could have gone for it. Yabu probably would have even accepted his confession. Neither one of them were seeing anybody seriously back then. Totsuka thought hard about it for a week or so, but decided he liked the way things were too much to change it to something else. Totsuka kept the whole thing to himself for the two or three months it took to fade. Once in a while when they’re together, Totsuka feels flickers of that excitement again, but he’s at peace with his choice.

Totsuka never said anything about it to Yabu, but sometimes he wonders if Yabu figured it out anyway. In the karaoke booth, the two of them sit close enough that their shoulders brush, and it’s warm and comfortable. Yabu spreads the updates book across both their laps as they flip pages.

His phone buzzes in Yabu’s pocket, pressed between their thighs like a pet that wants attention. Yabu only rolls his eyes a little as he tugs his phone free and tosses it carelessly over on top of his coat.

Sometimes Totsuka thinks about how different things are now than they could have been two, maybe three years ago. It’s hard to imagine his life without Hashimoto, and probably Yabu feels the same about Takaki, although clearly Takaki’s repeated attempts at communication don’t inspire the same sort of contentment in Yabu as Hashimoto’s do in Totsuka. If he could pick a reason why the two of them wouldn’t have worked out, it would be exactly that. Totsuka needs a lot of attention, and he knows it; Yabu has always been a little uncomfortable when people get particularly clingy with him.

So they’re both better off this way, probably, Totsuka is pretty sure. Doesn’t mean he can’t think about it sometimes, when Yabu hands him a microphone and then wraps an arm around Totsuka’s shoulders. If he sense Totsuka’s pensive mood, Yabu doesn’t comment on it, only fills up the silence between them by throwing on a couple senpai duets first.

“Kinki?” Totsuka asks. It’s not a usual choice for Yabu.

“Felt like the right choice,” Yabu says, and Totsuka agrees. The music in the booth is loud enough to drown the buzz of Totsuka’s phone in his pocket, Yabu’s phone on top of his coat.

Even if the two of them never will be, their voices still sound so good together.

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