bleep blop

He could turn around and head back, find shelter, but he elects to continue. 

It's raining harder. He's giving it his all to get to the remote station sooner. 

A small pothole trips him up, he stumbles but manages to catch himself. It's all for naught, because a larger pothole was lying in wait.

Tashiro's face first in the dirt that's turning to mud. Rain is pelting his back and taunting him. 

He picks himself up and admits defeat. He's walking to the station; the rain is unrelenting and unforgiving.

He makes it to the safety of the enclosed shelter, grateful for the door. It's raining so much and Tashiro's looking through the glass ceiling. He's in a sub-aquatic vehicle, just thin glass separating him from pure and utter destruction. 

His phone shrieks and there's an emergency alert- flash floods are imminent and the trains are shut down for the foreseeable future. 

Shit. 

He's laying down, eyes closed, letting the rhythmic drumming of rain send him into a nap. It's not a great nap, every time he's on the precipice of deep sleep Tashiro's pulled back out by the roar of thunder. 

This is what working hard and saying yes to people gets you, he tells himself. Stranded, cold, wet, and alone in a shelter. 

Sleep beckons him once more despite the cacophony happening on the other side of glass. Tashiro submits without protest, and he's pretty sure he hits at least a few seconds of deep sleep. 

The next clap of thunder is accompanied by lighting and his little shelter shakes, it feels like it could be ripped up from the ground. It jolts Tashiro from sleep, the thunder and lighting continue. The only light is a small overhead light struggling to stay lit and the lightning. 

The shelter is illuminated, but a shadow is cast that Tashiro knows wasn't there before. He whips his body around so fast he falls off his bench. 

The ground is cold and hard and filthy. Tashiro's looking up with trepidation at the new figure, wondering how long they'd been there. He can't make out their features until lighting strikes once more. 

It's Hanzawa. And the way the light shines on his face is a step from nightmarish. 

Tashiro doesn't know what he should be feeling. Hanzawa Masato always did have a knack for finding him, and it makes Tashiro wonder if there's been a tracker implanted on his person all along. 

He comes to his senses and picks himself up, brushing off the dust; it's a silly gesture because he's still caked with dried mud. He's painfully aware that his socks and shoes are still soaked, his hair is half undone from his naps, and the dirt under his fingernails becomes too apparent. 

It's raining and the two men are staring in silence. 

Tashiro wills himself to say something- anything, but his body does not acquiesce; he's opening and closing his mouth like a fish. 

The rain continues its assault on the world. 

Tashiro isn't sure if he's more grateful or nervous that Hanzawa speaks first. 

"I was looking for you, Tashiro." 

The way his name spills from the other man's mouth steals Tashiro's breath for a second. And then he's all too aware of his breathing pattern, quick little breaths in and out. Tashiro is a rabbit in the woods, and whatever Hanzawa is, is large and unknown and that alone makes him terrifying. 

He can only summon breath for one word: "Why?"

Lightning hits again and Hanzawa isn't wearing his usual mask. There's a tightness around his mouth and Tashiro's betting that his jaw is clenched. 

Hanzawa sighs before answering. "I was going to offer you a ride; I know you don't live near here. But when I went to find you at the venue you were gone. The other bartenders told me where you catch the train and I got worried with the weather." 

"Oh yeah, that makes sense. I wasn't trying to avoid you." But he was. And Tashiro hated how the lie felt in his mouth. He didn't really know why he was avoiding the other man, it was a bit reflexive. "But you really didn't have to come out here, now we're both stuck." 

In the dim lighting, he can see Hanzawa stand and take a step closer. 

He steps back. Once, twice, and then his knees are hitting the bench behind him and he falls onto it. Hanzawa continues his advance. 

Tashiro looks anywhere but in front of him, like if he didn't look at the other man then maybe he wasn't really so close. What was Hanzawa going to do? Tashiro's heart was racing, did he remember how to breathe anymore? What was he supposed to do with his hands, or his legs that Hanzawa's own were bumping into. 

The other man raises a hand and as it approaches Tashiro's face he squeezes his eyes closed. 

There was a gentle brush of skin on skin; Hanzawa wiping dirt from his cheek with the most tender touch. 

"If it's with you, I don't mind being stuck." 

No one had ever spoken or touched Tashiro in that way. Like one wrong move would cause him to shatter into a million pieces. He liked it, but the rawness and intimacy of it all scared him. Petrified him. 

Hanzawa presses on, taking his time rubbing dirt away from Tashiro's face while speaking. And Tashiro lets him continue his ministrations; it seemed like the easier path at the moment. 

"Why do you keep avoiding me? I think this is the most we've spoken since we met again." 

Tashiro places his hand over Hanzawa’s; grips it and lowers it and holds it in in between both of his hands. He finally looks up at the other man. 

"Uggfhh." He tries to speak but only a jumbled noise comes out. He forces himself to take a deep breath and try again. "Honestly? This is going to sound absolutely awful of me, but I…don't…know? It's just-" He swallows, and scratches his head with their conjoined hands. "I never expected to see you there, after all this time, after how we parted. My flight instincts are still strong I suppose." He shrugs. 

He doesn't know when he started, but Tashiro's shaking a little and hopes Hanzawa hasn't noticed, but he's sure he has. His head feels heavy at the admission and he wants to cry. 

Something wet rolls down Tashiro's cheek, and he hopes Hanzawa didn't notice. "Ah, guess there's a leak in here somewhere." He tries to play it off. 

Hanzawa stops looming and sits next to him, hands still joined. He isn't looking in Tashiro's direction when he replies. "Ah yeah, it seems there is." 

The silence is heavy, and they're sitting with fingers threaded together. Where their skin meets is hot and sweaty and Tashiro hopes it's not all him. 

It's still raining. 

Time has lost all meaning; they could have been trapped for minutes or hours, Tashiro doesn't know and doesn't move to check his phone. 

At some point, their thighs touch on the bench, and the warmth seeping into him from the contact sends a shiver through him. Tashiro doesn't move for fear of breaking this peace between them.

His face is wet; silent tears had tumbled down his face but had yet to dry. 

The drumming of rain slows. 

Tashiro dares to ruin the silence. "It's not worth much anymore, but I'm sorry. I know we can't go back, and I don't know how to go forward now. Everything just feels-" He sucks in a deep quivering breath, begging his words to sound stronger than he feels. "-wrong." he finishes with a whisper. 

Hanzawa squeezes Tashiro's hand and nudges his calf with a foot. He still won't look his way, but responds nonetheless. "I was wrong, too. All this wasn't one sided; I'm just as culpable as you. Probably more." 

When Hanzawa finally twists his body, one leg on the bench sitting sideways to face Tashiro, it's with the most pained expression Tashiro's ever seen. His tidy hair is a mess, eyes bloodshot beyond belief, and face just as wet as Tashiro's own feels. 

"Is it really so wrong to want still?" 

Tashiro's broken heart breaks further. 

"Wish I knew. God, why did things have to get so heavy? I'm no good at this." Tashiro takes a dirty hand and wipes Hanzawa's face, a trail of dirt left in its wake. "Do you think it's possible to push pause on the heavy stuff, Hanzawa? I don't wanna pretend it never happened, but maybe we branch off and revisit it later?" 

Tashiro can't imagine having this conversation with anyone else. There's a dam that keeps all his deep, weird emotions back. He's pretty sure no one else would be able to treat him the same after hearing the woes that slumber in the abyss of his heart. No one but Hanzawa. 

Hanzawa stands and pulls Tashiro with him. "There's no harm in trying." He maneuvers them to the door, one hand poised to push it open. "I'm glad you're letting us try again. I'm still struggling with forgiveness, if I'm being honest." 

Tashiro stops and anchors Hanzawa in the shelter. Tashiro's face feels tight. "Oh." It's quiet, and the only indication Hanzawa heard is the way his fingers twitch against Tashiro's hand. "I mean, it was so long ago I barely remember what happened." It was the most obvious lie he's ever told. So transparent, like the glass above their heads. "You…don't feel like you need to forgive me. It's okay." 

When Tashiro looks up, Hanzawa's expression is equal parts confused and distraught. 

"There was never anything to forgive you for, Tashiro." Hanzawa heaves a heavy breath. "I was talking about forgiving myself." 

"Oh. Oh." 

"Yeah." 

The rain is softly pattering, a few drops drum every couple seconds. 

Hanzawa pushes the door open, and pulls Tashiro outside with him. "Well, come along Tashiro. I'm parked a few blocks away. We can finish this conversation another time."