you're gonna ride shotgun with me forever! @hinasouda-week - Tumblr Blog

Jun 29, 2025

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

"So, that was the situation. Hinata likes Komaeda, who likes Kamukura, who likes Nanami, who just wants to play video games. And Souda…well. He’s Hinata’s best friend. And Souda listens to Hinata verbally vomit about Komaeda like the supportive friend he is, and he doesn’t care about any of this. At all." Souda had convinced himself he didn't care about spending his time as a frustrated shoulder for Hinata to cry on over Komaeda. Until he sees Komaeda returning Hinata’s advances. Suddenly, he cares quite a bit. (For Hinasouda Week : Day 1 & 6 - First Date / Hopes Peak )

by the god's i fucking did it. for soulfriends, i fucking did it.

Non-despair Hinasouda Fake Daking AU enjoy ~*

(under the cut as well for tumblrinas <3 )

There were few places that Souda felt more comfortable than his garage. The oily smells, the dusty, gritty layer of old oil and grease that lay over everything and the dulled shine of well used metal and steel felt more like home to him than home did. The extended loud droning sounds of tools and engines at work were only interrupted by sudden loud clangs and bangs, but even these sounds which would usually set Souda embarrassingly on edge were much less frightening here than they would’ve been anywhere else. Souda would sleep here too if he could, and if he was being truthful, sometimes he did, and sometimes it was only a little bit of an accident. Because despite how homely Souda may feel here, this was not his garage at home. And while he’d managed to build up enough good will with the others to allow him some wiggle room when it came to certain rules, it was still his job, and he was here to work. Even if certain people liked to act otherwise.

Hinata was sitting in a slump on top of one of the old rolling stools they had in the garage since what looked like the dawn of time. As he swung himself idly left and right, the hinges groaned and creaked. It was more exposed foam than fake leather at this point and held together entirely with duct tape and dreams. It can’t have bothered Hinata much, because it was the same stool he always chose to sit on whenever he’d come to visit Souda while he worked. Souda really loved days like this, because there were few people that Souda felt more comfortable around than Hajime Hinata.

Even if today he was really getting on his last fucking nerve.

“I just don’t get it. He’s such a prick!” Hinata exclaimed. Though he was staring at the dirty underside of a truck, Souda could imagine the face he was making, and how he’d throw his arms out then fold them with a pout. As if on cue, he just about heard Hinata sigh over the tinny sound of music coming from his phone, “I just wish he’d be real with me. Sometimes there’ll be moments where I think we’re getting somewhere, but then…I don’t know. It’s like he pulls away.”

“Uh-huh.” Souda grunted as he put his whole body weight into unscrewing a particularly tight bolt.

“Then Izuru comes on the scene and suddenly he’s my best friend all over again. Like, where does he get off treating people like that?! I swear, without Izuru he probably wouldn’t even look my way.”

“Nope.” Souda said with an exaggerated pop of his lips.

It’s not like he has a problem with Komaeda or anything. The guy is just weird, and Souda doesn’t get him one bit. He’s as comforting as a minefield and just as volatile, and in Souda’s opinion, his pretty eyes and sharp jawline weren’t enough to make up for that. Unfortunately, Souda’s come to learn that his opinion on Komaeda doesn’t matter. Only Hinata’s does, and Hinata is obsessed with him. But Souda would never let him hear him say that. All he ever does is go on about Komaeda. Komaeda was mean to him, Komaeda was nice to him, Komaeda totally bummed me off to go hang out with my weirdo younger brother. Souda doesn’t know what he sees in him.

Not that he cares, of course. Hinata can like whoever he wants. He just wished he’d choose someone who actually liked him back.

It was a hard truth that Hinata refused to accept, but Komaeda was very obviously infatuated with Hinata’s younger brother, Kamukura, and had been ever since he’d first showed up. Kamukura is the bassist in this shitty local rock band, The Tragedy, and he’s good. Like, really good. Far too good for the band he’s in, but Kamukura doesn’t really care. Actually, Kamukura doesn’t care about much of anything at all. Souda thinks he’s boring as fuck, and if he was Komaeda and had to choose between Hinata or Kamukura, he’d chose Hinata in a heartbeat. But it wasn’t like Komaeda was exactly renowned for his rational decision-making abilities. In Souda’s opinion, Komaeda was just totally blinded by his dick, but too pretentious to own up to it.

At first Souda had thought what everyone else had thought, that Kamukura was totally mysterious, totally cool, and totally hot- and of course, he meant that in a totally objective way, you know? No use denying what was right in front of him. But then he got to know him and found out the truth; that Kamukura is genuinely the weirdest, coldest motherfucker he’s ever known. The guy spends his free time making corrections to obscure Wikipedia pages, getting into arguments with scholars through email for fun, and ripping his favourite passages out of library books before returning them. The guy is fake deep to the extreme but will probably win a Nobel prize one day or something. He doesn’t even care about bass. He just plays it because that’s what the band needed and that’s what Enoshima had asked him to do.

Listening to Enoshima’s every whim was perhaps the only thing Souda could say they were on the same page with when it came to how that guy thought. Enoshima was hot, but scary too. Apparently, he’d never even played bass before he joined the band. Stuff like that was common with Kamukura though. No one’s even sure where he came from. He just showed up one day at Hope’s Peak a bit late for second year. Souda had been so mad at Hinata at first. How the hell could he not tell his soul-bro something as simple as ‘Hey, I have a brother and he’s, like, a super-hot super-genius!’. Hinata had insisted it was complicated, something about Kamukura being adopted, which made sense but also sounded like absolute bullcrap. He’d gotten over it quickly, when he realised how big of a dickhead Kamukura was. He wouldn’t go around flaunting having him as a brother either. He supposed that there were just some things about those two he’d never understand, and he’d just have to be okay with that.

At the very least, he was the one Hinata would come to to confide in his feelings. Souda was perhaps the only person that Hinata could fully rant about his younger brother to, because Souda was the only one who’s ever really understood it. Not even just because he wasn’t blinded by his brother’s coolness anymore, but because Souda really, really understood. Souda had never much felt like he was good enough for anyone or anything either.

The only thing Kamukura did seem to care about was Chiaki Nanami. Which was sad in its own way because Chiaki Nanami is a giant NEET who spends all her time gaming and doesn’t really notice him at all. On top of it all, she’s Hinata’s best friend (different to soul-friends, of course, so it was totally fine for her to be Hinata’s best friend). If she isn’t gaming, she’s with Hinata or Komaeda, sometimes both, and even then, half the time they’re gaming. She doesn’t leave the house, and the only time she does is when she gets invited to Kamukura’s gigs, where she instantly makes easy friends with everyone there despite her introverted nature. This makes it even harder for Kamukura to get to her, because he’d rather choke on a tire-seared roadkill than have polite conversation with another person his age. What everyone had read as a lone wolf mentality, Souda had come to find out, was actually just a case of social awkwardness strong enough to make even the most isolated nerd wince with pity.

All this was stuff Komaeda couldn’t see. Or at least, Souda assumed he couldn’t see it, from the way he practically drooled over him. Souda thought it was way too much the way he glazed the guy, especially considering Kamukura couldn’t give less of a shit about him if he tried. Though, Souda couldn’t say he didn’t see the appeal in that type of dynamic. It became a problem though when he disregarded Hinata’s feelings completely in his persistent lauding of the guy. Komaeda was apparently Hinata’s friend. Most of the time nowadays, Souda would swear Komaeda was only hanging around Hinata in an attempt to get Kamukura to notice him.

Some fucking friend. It especially pissed Souda off because he’d warned him right from the start about what Komaeda was like. But Hinata was just…Hinata. He couldn’t leave well enough alone. He was too good of a guy for that. Even when Komaeda had been rude to him and kept pushing him away, Hinata didn’t stop trying. He never stooped to his level. Souda kind of thought Hinata was the coolest guy ever for that. If he could like someone as cracked as Komaeda, well…Souda thought that maybe he really could actually like a loser like him too. It made trusting Hinata a whole lot easier. If he’d stick around through all the shit Komaeda put him through, then maybe he wouldn’t leave him either when things got rough. He’d felt like an idiot for ever needing any sort of confirmation of that. Hinata was just a really great guy. That was something no amount of talent could teach. Souda wished he was a better friend. Then maybe Hinata would be able to see that too.

So, that was the situation. Hinata likes Komaeda, who likes Kamukura, who likes Nanami, who just wants to play video games. And Souda…Well.

He’s Hinata’s best friend. And Souda listens to Hinata verbally vomit about Komaeda like the supportive friend he is, and he doesn’t care about any of this. At all.

He pushed himself out from under the truck, “Can you pass me the Phillips head?”

Hinata rolled his eyes and got up in a huff, “Jeez, thanks for the comfort, dude.” he snarked, but still rummaged through Souda’s toolbox. Souda ignored Hinata’s grumbling until he saw his trainers in his peripheral and a screwdriver handle being held out to him. Souda took the tool but stopped short of pushing himself back under the truck,

“Dude!” he exclaimed, looking at the screwdriver like it personally offended him, “This is a Roberston! I asked for Phillip's head.”

Hinata bristled where he perched on the old stool, “What do I care what weird nicknames you’ve given your tools?”

Souda pushed himself further out from under the truck and sat up in a furious rush, “Are you actually gonna help me or just sit there complaining all damn day?!” Souda snapped, waving the Robertson screwdriver around threateningly.

“I am helping!” Hinata replied petulantly, before rummaging through the toolbox again with a lot more anger than was necessary. Souda groaned exaggeratedly, pushed himself to his feet and stormed over to where Hinata was making a mess of his tools. He brushed his hands away, reached in and easily grabbed the bunch of screwdrivers he had sorted together with a dirty elastic band. He snapped the band off, and held them up one by one to Hinata,

“Robertson’s head. Hex. Flathead.” he chucked those three back into the tool box, and held the last one out with heavy importance right into Hinata’s face, “Phillip’s head.”

Hinata pushed the screwdriver out of his face and rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” he said, playing unbothered but Souda could see him holding back a smile. It melted him a little. He sighed, dropped the screwdriver into his pocket and tugged the rag he kept tucked into the waistband of his overalls free. He was feeling sweaty, so he’d folded it down, leaving his top half free bar the old tank top he wore under his uniform. Maybe the dirt and oil would’ve bothered someone else, but he’d stopped minding long ago. Honestly, Souda felt more natural like this than he did straight out of the shower.

He wondered sometimes if it bothered Hinata. Especially in moments like this, where he noticed that Hinata was eyeing him up…weirdly. Like he was really paying attention to him and the dirt on his tank top and his arms and was trying to pretend like he wasn’t. Souda tried to ignore it. He was working. If Hinata was bothered by it he could just suck it up or stop coming (except he really hoped he just sucked it up, and didn’t just stop coming (maybe he should keep more rags around) (maybe he should use more body spray)). He wondered if maybe it was because of reasons like this that he was still single.

And that was the exact type of thought he didn’t want to be having while working.

Souda cleaned his hands as best he could on the rag, “You’re not the only one with issues, you know.” he grumbled,

Hinata scoffed, “Yeah, Souda, I know. You won't let anyone forget it.”

“You know…” he started, screwing his lips as tried to better control his thoughts, “I’m starting to think that this is all pointless.”

Hinata was quiet for a beat too long, “Talk about tonal whiplash.”

“Not like that! Miss Sonia and me, I mean.”

“Yeah, I think that was over right about when her and Tanka started dating.”

“Don’t remind me.” Souda groaned. He hated even thinking about it. At least now he wasn’t subjected to seeing them together daily. But even so, the little he saw of her was enough to keep his heart aflame, “I just can’t help it dude. I still think about her."

“You need to broaden your horizons. If you have someone else to focus on, then you won't think about her as much.”

“You’re one to talk.” Souda grumbled, and Hinata sucked his teeth. “I mean think about it,” Souda started pacing, “What the hell am I even supposed to do? Even when she agrees to go out with me-”

Hinata snorted, “When.”

“-I’m totally gonna mess it up! I have like zero experience with dating dude! I have no clue what I’m supposed to even do on a date.” Souda wrung the cloth between his hands, “If only I had some experience, then maybe I could be more confident. But I don’t wanna just date some random girl! I want Miss Sonia to know I’m dedicated, you know?”

On Souda’s phone, the song changed. Distantly, he recognised it, another comfort among the many that now felt out of place with the discomfort in his head. Then, Hinata asked,

“What about me?”

Souda dragged a hand down his face, “Dude, can we not be about you for, like, 5 fucking minutes?”

“First of all, not what I meant. Second of all, rude.” Hinata’s snark disappeared, and he became oddly serious, “I meant what about dating me?”

Even though he was standing still, Souda nearly fell over, “HUH?!”

Hinata hooked his finger into the pocket of his overalls and pulled himself towards him on the rolling stool until his knees bumped against his thighs and Souda was slotted between them. He smirked up at Souda, and asked, “Wanna go on a date with me, Kaz?”

Souda blushed hard and fast, a straight shot of fire up from his chest and burning across his face. It was near unbearable, but not anymore unbearable than looking at Hinata when he was smiling up at him like that. He scrambled away, feeling completely childish as he tried to hide his embarrassment behind his hand, “S-Stop with the play flirting, I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” Hinata insisted, “Think about it, you get to practise dating without anyone knowing and I get a chance to try and make Komaeda jealous. We both win!”

Souda felt a little bit like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, “Y-You’re talking crazy dude! There’s no way we could go out with each other! We’re bros! Soul-bro’s! In a strictly non-homoerotic way!”

“Not that strictly.”

“THAT’S YOUR DOING NOT MINE!” Souda squealed, nearly hysterical.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested matching speedos.”

“Speedos are super manly! There’s nothing gay about that!”

Hinata laughed, and it only made Souda more embarrassed. He would throw something at him, but everything around him was at least 80% life threatening, so he stewed in his frustration instead and pretended that Hinata’s laugh didn’t automatically make him want to smile too.

“Look,” Hinata began, voice still full of mirth, “Izuru’s shitty band is playing a show at the Bomb Shelter this weekend. We should go together.”

“How the hell would that be a date? We’d go together anyway.”

“That’s the point.”

Well, now Souda felt really put off, “What, so you’re asking me out but you don’t wanna be seen with me?! Talk about mixed signals.”

“Souda, It’s not real!”

Souda hummed anxiously, “I don’t know dude…” he scratched his head through the old bandana he used to cover his hair, “I don’t see how Komaeda would get jealous of me…”

“Why not?”

The question was asked so genuinely that Souda got nervous. He shook it off so Hinata would drop it, “Nothin’.”

He sighed. He really should reject this dumb idea. He couldn’t see it going well at all. If anything, all that would happen would be that they’d go out as normal and completely forget it was supposed to be a date.

Though, maybe, that’s exactly why he should agree. He’d be going out with Hinata regardless, if it evolved into nothing but a normal night out, nothing was lost. He trusted Hinata, and that meant more than Hinata could ever really understand. He knew Hinata wouldn’t use this as a way to make a fool out of him, despite how sometimes his stupid brain told him otherwise. No matter what fears he had, Hinata always proved them wrong, time and time again.

Maybe he should do this just, if anything, to help his friend out. For himself, at the very least then, he can say he tried.

“Fine.” he shoved the rag back into the waistband of his overalls, “What do I go’ta lose?” he lay back on his creeper and pulled himself back under the truck. He heard Hinata’s stool roll closer to him.

“You gonna buy me flowers?” Hinata teased,

“You gonna suck my dick?” Souda spat back,

“Depends on if you buy me flowers or not.”

Souda startled so badly he whacked his head on the truck’s undercarriage, “D-DUDE!” he yelled, but Souda didn’t think Hinata could hear him over how hard he was laughing.

He felt like a total fucking idiot.

How many times had he gone to these stupid gigs with Hinata? Too many times. More times than maybe he would’ve liked, in complete honesty (the band was shit. Kamukura was the best thing that ever happened to them, and it showed. Or maybe Souda just really didn’t understand goth rock). So why was he so nervous right now? He’d fretted for an hour over what he was going to wear like some dumb high school girl going on her first date.

Though he supposed that wasn’t entirely wrong. Instead, he was just some dumb 20-year-old loser fretting over what he was going to wear on his first date.

But that exact mindset was the whole damn problem. This wasn’t real, so why the hell was he stressing so bad? It was a fake date between two bros. Literally just bros helping each other out. So why the hell was he putting so much effort into all of this? It’s not like Hinata ever really cared about how he dressed.

But if they were going to do this, they may as well do it properly, right? He didn’t want Hinata to think he wasn’t taking this seriously. If he were dating someone, he’d want them to think he looked good. So, if he tried to dress properly, he could have Hinata tell him if it was the right thing to wear to a date, right? Plus, of course he wanted his bro to think he looked good. He always thought Hinata looked good, even if Hinata never agreed.

He’d already changed outfits four times. By the time he got the text from Hinata that he was leaving for the station they were meeting at, Souda still hadn't decided. In a rush to leave, he wore the first outfit he’d tried on nearly an hour ago. He was thankful he’d put a little more effort in than usual, because Hinata had too. Though, when they boarded the subway, Souda had another reason to fret. They stood opposite each other by the doors, and in the dark of the subway tunnels Souda saw their reflections in the windows of the door opposite. They looked like they were going to two completely different events. Hinata looked so cool and aloof. The baggy clothing with neutral colours paired with a stiff white dress shirt underneath was so casually comfortable and approachable, Souda thought he probably looked ridiculous standing next to him. Maybe he should have swapped the modded neon top and tartan trousers he was currently wearing for something less in-your-face. What the hell people must think of them, he didn’t know. Hinata probably looked like he was doing charity work hanging around with someone like him. He wanted to tell him he looked good. Usually he wouldn’t hesitate, but now, it felt different. Something about the idea of this being a ‘date’ was making him feel a bit tongue tied. So, he kept it to himself.

Just as he’d gone to these gigs way too many times to count, starting the night in one of Kuzuruyu’s seedy yakuza run bars near the venue was also standard practice. The low lights did a lot to stave off Souda’s anxiety. The music was just loud enough to keep away an awkward silence but not too loud to stop conversation, but that just made the room louder in a different way. The leather sofas lining the walls and walling off booths would maybe have once carried a subtle shine even in this low light. Enough spilled beer and not enough leather polish and just enough rowdy fights happening on top of them got rid of that. The furniture was subdued like it was trying to blend into the background and prevent any more injury coming its way. But the place was clean enough. That was more than he could say for many other places they tended to visit, and much more than could be said for the Bomb Shelter. Though, Souda never really could relax here. The cleanliness and order to everything just made it look like the place was hiding something. Considering it was one of the Kuzuryu gangs’, it most likely was. Souda was glad they weren’t spending the night here.

Most of the people he’d expect to see at these gigs were already here. Mioda had greeted them immediately on entry in her usual loud and over-the-top way. Hinata had nearly fallen over from the weight of her crashing into him. Kuzuryu followed quickly behind her, handing Hinata and Souda cups of undisclosed liquid in a way that made Souda too scared to deny him. He gave Hinata a look, and found the same look mirrored back at him. Then, Hinata shrugged and drank, much to Mioda’s great enjoyment.

“We’ll need to be pissed to get through the set.” Hinata said once they were alone again.

Souda snorted a laugh, “True enough.” and took his first gulp as well.

“Wish we at least knew what the hell he put in here. It doesn’t taste like alcohol, it's scary.”

“Maybe that's why he doesn’t tell us. If he did, I’d drink this shit like juice and end up in hospital.”

Hinata snorted, “You’ll probably end up there anyway if I don’t look after you, you lightweight.”

“Oh, because you’re so great at handling your alcohol. Remember what happened that night with the fireball-”

Hinata groaned with embarrassment, physically shrivelling, “Don’t remind me.” Souda snickered mercilessly at his pain. They walked together deeper into the room, settling off to the side, leaning against the back of a booth of seats. Drinks and empty glasses had been abandoned on the table, and there was a coat on the seat, but there wasn’t anyone there right now to claim it. Still, it was better to stand. Felt less like they were hiding, even if that was really what they were doing.

They laughed and joked and talked about absolutely nothing, as they usually did. Souda didn’t know how they managed to still find things to talk about after all these years. But this was the reason he kept coming to these stupid gigs. Not the music, not the drinks, but for the chance to spend time with Hinata like this. Souda would probably spend most of his time with Hinata if he could, though that felt a bit scary to admit. Though it wasn’t often they were alone at events like this. People liked Hinata, because Hinata was cool and super fun to talk to. People sort of gravitated towards him, which was weird to experience second hand because people tended to stay away from him. Well, not that he could complain about that. That was his own doing. Regardless, Souda couldn’t help but feel a little proud that out of everyone, Hinata chose him to hang out with the most.

By all accounts, everything was normal. It was so normal, in fact, that Souda almost forgot that anything was supposed to be different at all. Falling into step with Hinata was easy. He didn’t even need to try.

So, when Hinata gave him a look as he sipped his drink, Souda hardly thought anything of it.

“By the way,” Hinata started, a certain low drawl to his tone that was unfamiliar to Souda. It pulled his full attention, even as a song he recognised began to play in the background, “That top looks really good on you.”

Souda looked down like maybe his entire appearance had changed since he last saw himself, “Uh, you think?”

“Yeah.” Hinata seemed genuine, but Souda still wasn’t sure that he wasn’t just setting up a joke at his expense.

“It’s…uh…Not something I’d ever wear. But I don’t know…” Hinata’s eyes glanced over him, and a small smile started to grow on his face. He shrugged and looked off vaguely into the room, “I think it’s super cool you have the confidence to dress how you want and not the way everyone expects you to.” he got shifty, “Plus…You have, uh, like, really nice arms.”

Souda blinked dully at the unexpected compliment, but still quickly recovered, “Coming from you! You’re toned as hell dude.”

“No way.” Hinata downed his drink and leaned over the booth to put his glass on the table. Then, he motioned Souda forwards, “Here, let me feel.”

Souda didn’t see any reason to deny him. He lifted his arm and flexed.

He’d expected a casual, fleeting touch. Something impersonal and passing, just enough to give Hinata an idea of what he was working with. What he got was a slow, full handed stroke. Souda froze as Hinata continued to touch, and continued to look, “No, yours are way nicer than mine.” Hinata brought his other hand up to touch too, and looked down at him with lowered eyelids, “All that hard work and manual labour.” he murmured, and something about how he said it shot shivers out from his arm and across his body.

Here it was: the difference. This is what changed it from the normal to date. An attempt at approaching a closeness they’d only toed the line of jokingly before now but had never properly broached. Hinata’s large, warm hands were foreign as they slid over his arms. The way Hinata pursed his lips slightly told him he was nervous, but his hands were something else. It made Souda think of the way Oowada would run his hands across the body of a newly painted bike. He wasn’t used to it, or the hot feeling it flushed through him. No matter how much he wanted to keep flexing for Hinata (wait, should he keep flexing? Did Hinata want him too? Fuck, did he want to show off for Hinata? Was it okay if he did?), he felt so weak with Hinata’s hands on him that it was a conscious effort to keep it up.

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” he managed stupidly.

“Maybe I should be more hands on when I come visit you at work.”

“You can’t even tell the difference between a nail and screw.” Souda shot back. That was easy, that was normal. If he acted that way, then maybe it’d feel that way too.

Hinata smiled in a sharply, it warned of trouble, “I’m sure you could teach me everything I need to know about screws.” he said, emphasising ‘screw’ with a squeeze to his arm that made him jolt. He used that same syrupy tone he always used when he was trying to wind him up. Wore the same smirk that always meant he succeeded, “Would I have to wear a tiny white tank top too?”

Souda stiffened with offense, “I-It’s an old shirt! You’d wear a jumpsuit, obviously. But it's just - It gets hot alright!” it was getting hot here too. God, was he blushing? He was definitely blushing. He needed to get a hold of himself.

“That’s your excuse? I thought I was just special.”

“I- You-” Souda wasn’t proud of the frustrated noise that slipped out of him. Hinata finally released his arm, and it made it a little bit easier to think. He huffed a rough sigh and nervously scratched at his head through his hat. “Well, it’s not like I just let anyone hang with me in the garage.” Souda tightened his grip on the glass in his hand and counted the different specks of colour that made up the linoleum floor, “I suppose I’m just comfortable around you or whatever. I don’t even think about it anymore.”

The music flowed pleasantly around them, the bass tickling through the air.

“Oh…” Hinata said quietly, suddenly subdued. It made the moment warm, in a weird way. Souda thought that maybe it was because they were both feeling the same thing, and they both could sort of tell.

“Isn’t it a bit early in the night for you two to be this touchy?”

As easily as that, it (whatever it was) was gone.

“What’s it to you?” Souda snapped. He nearly recoiled at himself. He was way too irritated for the little Komaeda had done. He stood his ground scowling at Komaeda, half out of stubborn embarrassment, half because even if it was unnecessary, he was still pissed off. For all the effort he put in, Komaeda remained unaffected. He didn’t even seem to notice Souda’s unnecessary malcontent and just kept smiling that constant and creepy smile.

“Oh nothing, just looking out for your wellbeing, of course!” Oh brother. “I just don’t want you embarrassing yourselves in front of everyone unnecessarily.” Komaeda answered breezily,

Souda felt a vein in his head twitch, “Thanks.” he ground out.

Komaeda smiled the same smile he always did. Maybe that was the thing that set him off the most about Komaeda; how fake everything about him was. Souda could never tell what he was thinking unless Komaeda wanted him to know, and even then, half the time Souda couldn’t figure him out. It made him feel stupid, and he wasn’t fucking stupid. But Komaeda probably thought he was.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Hinata said pleasantly, “You usually only come for the show.”

Komaeda pointed a finger to his chin as he thought, “Hmm…you’re right. I guess I wanted to…” he smirked, and fanned out his hand, “Switch things up?”

Souda didn’t get the joke. He looked at Hinata, and he, of course, was charmed. Souda figured he was in for a long night. When he saw Kamukura approaching, he wanted to find Kuzuryu and ask for another of those suspiciously sweet drinks.

“Nice outfit.” Kamukura said as a greeting. There was no intonation to his voice, but he still somehow managed to make it sound so sarcastically scathing.

Hinata started with a shot of irritation, “Wh-”

“He’s right, Hinata. It is a nice outfit.”

Souda nearly jumped out of his skin. When the fuck did Nanami get here?

“Thank you, Nanami.” Hinata replied languidly, fluffing his feathers and looking down his nose at Kamukura (well, as best he could anyway, considering they were the exact same height). Kamukura didn’t rise to it. No expression passed over his face at all actually, which was just par for the course. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, big bro.” Kamukura droned, to which Hinata recoiled with an emphatic, “Ew.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the venue? You know, doing sound check and stuff.” Souda pointed out.

Kamukura hardly paid him a glance, “Didn’t want to. It’s boring.”

Komaeda gasped and stepped forwards into the conversation, “Ah, to do something so daring as to perform without proper soundcheck…Kamukura, you’re really pushing the limits of your band’s skill tonight, huh? How exciting!”

Nanami hummed an uncertain tone, “No. I think it’s more that he’s making problems for other people by being selfish.”

Hinata laughed so hard and suddenly he choked. Souda coughed to hide his own laugh, but it hardly did anything. Kamukura looking askant made pretending not to laugh so much harder. It was the most emotion he’d shown all night, “Enoshima is disruptive enough that it is never worthwhile.” he grumbled.

“Of course.” Komaeda sighed with a disappointed shake of his head, “Typical that she would try and ruin things. It’s all she’s good for.” Komaeda sighed dramatically with a hand to his head and eyes closed as if fighting off a headache, “I don’t know how you cope with that awful woman, Kamukura-”

“I don’t like how you said ‘woman’.” Nanami interjected quietly.

“-You could do so much more without her-”

“I know.” Kamukura said plainly.

Komaeda seemed to trip on his words, “O-Oh…” he thought for a moment, then with a tight brow asked, “Then why-”

“None of your business.” Kamukura sternly interrupted. Watching Komaeda laugh awkwardly and shrink into himself was even making Souda feel sorry for him.

“Why are you being such an asshole?” Hinata snapped, “He’s just looking out for you!”

Kamukura closed his eyes in an arrogant and self-assured way, “I can look after myself.”

Souda would swear he could see the steam coming out of Hinata’s ears, “Go fuck off and be by yourself then!”

Komaeda tried to step in between the two, “No, there’s no need-”

“Gladly.” Kamukura said with a shrug, then turned and left. Just like that. Komaeda watched him go. Souda wondered if he was thinking of following him. Souda really hoped he didn’t. Even Komaeda didn’t deserve this. At his side, Hinata was grumbling to himself, glaring after Kamukura.

The mood of the group shifted quickly, slipping down the drain fast. In the aftermath of the spat, everything was tense. Souda felt it deeper the longer the silence went on. His brain scrambled to think of something to say, to fix the tension and make everyone laugh. If he was a good friend, he’d know what to do to make Hinata feel better. Right now, he just felt useless.

“Hey hey,” Nanami sang, waving a hand at them to get their attention properly, “There’s no way we’re going to create a Great Party memory at this rate. We need to up the score.” the three of them looked at her blankly. She tilted her head and asked, “Who wants to buy me a drink?”

Like that, the horrible, anxiety-inducing bubble Kamukura had put them in popped.

Hinata snorted humorously, “That’s how we up the score?”

Nanami gave a small and devious smile, “Maybe. We haven’t tried it yet.”

“Souda could buy you one.” Komaeda suggested chipperly.

“W-What?! Me?!”

“You need a drink too, don’t you?” Komaeda asked almost innocently enough to convince Souda it was genuine.

“Why should I-?!” his complaints stopped dead in his throat, and he swallowed them harshly. Nanami was staring up at him, eyes the type of wide and wet he’d only seen on edited photos of baby kittens before now. He could feel his resolve breaking under their impossibly cute, ridiculously persuasive weight. Komaeda was staring quite intensely at him too. But that wasn’t cute, just really unnerving. Shots from both sides. No chance of cover. A last effort look at Hinata proved no help at all. He was ignoring him, leaving him alone in the line of action, because Hinata was much too busy staring at Komaeda.

Oh, duh! That was the point of all of this. With him and Nanami out of the way, Hinata would have time alone with Komaeda. Wing man stuff, just like the rest of this not-date. Of course he remembered that.

Hinata would do the same for him too, he was sure. It’s not like he was good at saying no to Nanami anyway. He caved, waving his white flag of surrender and raising his hands for peace, “Fine! Fine.”

Nanami posed in her victory. Souda grumbled, but he was fooling no one. He wouldn’t pass up making a cute girl like Nanami happy, even if she wasn’t really his type.

Just over the music, as they were walking away, Souda heard Hinata clear his throat,

“Uh, you look nice, Komaeda.”

“Oh! Why, thank you, Hinata.” Komaeda replied, sounding genuinely happy, before his voice began to shake in that freaky way it always did when he got too excited over something completely uninteresting, “A compliment from you…This night is turning out to be quite dangerous…”

Souda walked to the bar with Nanami, and didn’t think of anything at all.

“Things look like they’re going well between them, huh?”

Nanami’s tone was as tired yet pleasant as always, but still Souda felt panicked by the question, like it was targeted. The light of the interrogation lamp over his head splatting off coloured splotches in his vision and making him sweat.

“Uh, y-yeah!”

He looked back at the pair over his shoulder. Komaeda was talking, and where Souda felt tired just seeing how much he was yapping, Hinata was looking at him like he was the most interesting thing in the room.

Souda could be interesting if he wanted to be. Hinata looked at him like that too sometimes when he talked about his cars. Hinata was probably just being his usual friendly, supportive self, listening so intently to whatever vague philosophical bullshit Komaeda was spouting this week. He wasn’t special.

Not that it mattered anyway, because what Hinata felt for Komaeda and him was different. And that was okay because it was supposed to be different. Obviously.

Someone bumped into Komaeda as they passed and he tripped and fell right into Hinata’s waiting arms. He looked at him a bit startled, then pulled himself away. Hinata was smiling with all of his teeth at the colour on Komaeda’s cheeks.

“...Yeah. They are.”

Souda couldn’t have dreamt of it better for himself. If Miss Sonia had fallen into his arms like that and he’d managed to catch her, he didn’t think he’d stop dreaming about it for the rest of his life. Hinata must be ecstatic. From the change in his posture, Souda thought he kind of looked it too.

He better get a thank you for being such a good wingman. Maybe that was the missing piece. Maybe it was the gratitude that made this feel good. He would’ve thought seeing his bro so happy would’ve been enough. Or maybe he did feel good, and it was just not as great as he thought it would be, or maybe if he got a chance with Miss Sonia, he could share his happiness at a job well done with Hinata and he wouldn’t feel so nasty inside anymore. Komaeda was probably just stringing him along again anyway. Nothing was ever this simple with that guy. Maybe that’s why watching them be so happy together was making him feel so wrong. Maybe he was just a shit friend.

“Tequila rose, please.”

Souda pushed himself back from the bar in shock, snapping around to look at Nanami, “Y-You were serious?!”

“No. But I am now.” she softly bumped her shoulder with his, “Get one for yourself too.” she smiled tiredly and added quietly, “You look like you need it.”

“I’m not drinking some girly drink like that.” Nanami glared daggers at him, cheeks puffed as she leaned into him stretching onto the tips of her toes. This was getting ridiculous. Even prisoners of war had rights, and his were being violated, “F-Fine! Fine!” he squawked and she relented, bouncing happily on her toes as he struggled to get his wallet out of his pockets, “But I’m just buying the shot. You can get your own drink.” he signalled to the bartender to double the order, and she complied.

Nanami leaned on the bar, “Nah. I’m going slow.”

“So you’re buying a shot of tequila?!”

Nanami yawned as if to emphasise her point, “I’ll fall asleep again if I drink too much.” the bartender passed them their shots and once Souda paid they picked them up carefully, not wanting to spill the thick, pink, sticky drink, “Liquid courage.” Nanami said and signalled for him to cheers.

Souda cheers his shot with Nanami unenthusiastically, “Sure.”

Over Nanami’s shoulder, he saw Komaeda laugh and push Hinata’s shoulder gently, before getting half a step closer to him. He took the shot and swallowed with a wince and contemplated another round.

With such great success for Hinata so early in the night, Souda wondered how the rest of the night would go when it came to their plan. Souda hoped it wasn’t called off already. Only because he had his own things to gain out of the arrangement, of course. When Nanami got pulled away from the bar by Mioda, Souda officially ran out of reasons not to go back to Hinata. He’d felt a bit awkward about it, not sure how to approach the situation, when Komaeda and Hinata were so deep into a conversation. Sometimes when he saw them talking, to Souda it looked like Hinata forgot the rest of the world existed. Souda wished he could have a conversation like that with someone. It was hard to pretend he was enjoying himself with this weird, nasty feeling that had been bothering him since he’d left the two of them together following him around.

So maybe it was a bit of a dick move, but Souda couldn’t exactly say he felt bad about disrupting their conversation. He didn’t care if Hinata was mad at him, as long as he was the mad at him that made him shout and not the mad that made him ignore him.

But Hinata wasn’t mad at all. In fact, when Souda interrupted the conversation, Hinata actually smiled, and all the attention he’d been focusing on Komaeda was switched to him. Suddenly, Souda felt lighter, and the drink in his system sat nicer, and Souda could imagine the rest of the night as something to be enjoyed, rather than bared through. Souda felt bad about it, but when Komaeda left, he was kind of relieved. Weird! Though, not that weird. He usually felt better when Komaeda wasn’t right next to him.

They all abandoned the bar a bit before showtime. It was a short walk across the city to where Kamukura and Enoshima’s band was playing. The group of them were rowdy as they walked through the bright city lights, but only as rowdy as the rest of the crowds on the streets were. It was still early in the night, but it seemed the rest of the city had decided to start the night early as well. Souda heard from Mioda that the band has got a new guitarist. Souda drew a blank when Mioda had told them the name Tsumugi Shirogane, and one look at Hinata showed he was on the same page. Mioda was disappointed.

“But you know literally everyone, Hinata!” Mioda had whined dramatically, “You’re supposed to tell Ibuki all the gossip! Like who her musical inspiration is, who her mum is, what colour underwear her mum wears, her mum’s bra size and if her mum is looking for a new pool boy who’s also a girl!!”

“Why would I know any of that about her even if I did know who she was?” Hinata asked dryly.

Now, they were separated a bit from the rest, walking a bit faster and unintentionally leading the group towards their destination. They didn’t need to turn around to check they were still there. They were loud enough they could hear them all bickering and joking behind them.

“Man, you’re so lucky!” Souda started, swinging his arms up and hooking his hands behind his head casually, “Things went so well between you and Komaeda in there.”

“I know…weirdly well.” Hinata said a bit slowly, a bit more unsure than Souda expected. He hadn’t meant to make Hinata get all introspective like that.

He sighed heavily, “Miss Sonia wasn’t even there for me to even get a chance at trying anything. It’s so not fair.”

Hinata scoffed and said with a bit more bite than Souda expected, “This is not about you trying it on with Sonia, you’re supposed to be learning how to go on a date.”

Something sharp shot through Souda that he didn’t understand, “Well, all I’m learning so far is I should just let my date flirt with other guys while I wait like a loser at the bar!”

Hinata shrugged, “Some people are into that.”

“I’m not!” He snapped, but he lost most of his ire when Hinata laughed at him. Souda huffed, not completely settled, something in his stomach and his chest still making a weird type of feeling, kind of like a car idling. “You’re the worst date ever.” he grumbled, “Why the hell did I get you to teach me?”

Hinata scoffed loudly in offence, “You’re not exactly a Casanova either, you know!”

“I do know, asshole! That’s the whole reason for all of this!”

“I can’t believe you have the audacity to say that to me when you haven’t even paid me a single compliment all night.”

Souda stopped in his tracks. Hinata stared back at him, hands on his hips, waiting.

Suddenly, Souda couldn’t think of even a basic compliment to pay Hinata. His mind scrambling for something, but nothing felt right, and everything that did was too much. His throat and stomach clenched in an embarrassed type of fear.

‘You look so cool.’

‘Every time you look at me you make me nervous like how hot girls make me nervous’

‘You’re my best friend in the world and I wish I was even half as good to you as you are to me.’

‘I’m so happy you waste your time with me.’

Souda was sick with himself for even thinking those things. There was no way he could say any of that! Hinata would definitely laugh at him. Hell, he would laugh at himself for saying those things.

“W-Well-”

Hinata blew a disappointed raspberry through his lips and waved Souda away, “Jeez, don’t hurt yourself.”

“You always look good, dude! Even when you aren’t even trying! What the hell do you want me to say?!”

Hinata didn’t react to that, just sort of stared at him, like he’d said something strange. He didn’t know why he even bothered trying. He groaned, scratching hard at his head through his hat and picking up his pace to get away from Hinata’s dumbfounded stare, “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…”

“Oh, come on, don’t give up now!” Hinata said as he ran to catch up with him. Souda showed mercy, and let him catch up, but kept his eyes trained on the ground passing under his boots. At his side, Hinata sighed,

“You’re right.” he said sombrely, “I’ve been a shit date. A total waste. But give me another chance, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” Souda rolled his eyes at the begging, but one look at Hinata’s eyes sparkling with humour and his usual, genuine kindness, and Souda caved. Hinata sensed it without him having to say anything. He matched his pace, walking in tune with him, “Don’t think about it so hard. Just try and have fun. If you both have fun on a date, then it probably went well, right?” Souda didn’t respond to that. Mostly because he didn’t have much of an argument. He wanted to date a hot girl, obviously, but if the girl wasn’t any fun, and didn’t find him very fun, then what good would that be?

“You don’t have to do anything special.” Hinata affirmed, “Just like we usually do, yeah?”

Like they usually do. Souda could probably do that.

Hinata knocked his shoulder against his and leaned into him and asked quietly, “Unless you wanna hold hands?”

Souda pushed him hard so he stumbled away, “Fuck you, dude!”

Hinata snickered as he caught his step and reached out, “Come on, hold my hand Kaz!”

Souda held his hands like a purse that was about to be snatched, “Shut up!” he squealed. The spasming in his heart was anxiety inducing. Souda grabbed at his hat in panic, “M-My hands are sweaty and people will look at us weird.”

Souda didn’t know what it was that he said that was so funny, but the way Hinata was smiling in reaction to it was making his engine overheat.

“I don’t mind if your hands are sweaty, and people look at you weird anyway.”

“N-No they don’t!” Hinata’s lips tightened, Souda’s stomach dropped, “They don’t, right?” Hinata gave him a pointed look. Souda smacked a hand into his forehead, “N-NO WAY?!”

Hinata laughed as he led the way. Souda followed after him, and for the rest of the walk there, he kept thinking about his hands and Hinata’s. Hinata’s swinging empty next to him as he walked. Hinata’s hands in his pockets, scratching through his hair, pointing out cars on the street to ask Souda about their specs. He thought about how he’d never held hands with someone like that before, and wondered if Hinata had. Mostly, he thought about what Hinata’s hands would be like if he hadn’t been joking and they were holding his.

Everything felt better once they were at the show.

The Bomb Shelter was a hole in the wall in a place where no one would even think a hole should be. The bar was sat far away from any other bars or clubs in the area down a small and unassuming side street that had nothing else on it but a modest tattoo parlour, a dodgy sex shop and an old charity shop. The place only lit up at night, yellow light pouring out the black doors from the entryway just small enough to make you uncertain when you walked in. A girl sat at the front and took payment for tickets and stamped their hands, her small table and stool nearly taking up the whole entryway and blocking a seat or two from the wall mounted table behind her. The front bar area was small, cramped even with only two booths next to the windows and a few small tables crowded together in the centre. It was hardly packed, but even with less than a full row of people waiting by the bar to order, you’d be leaning shoulder to uncomfortable shoulder with a stranger if you wanted a drink. It was much too early in the night for such close encounters.

They didn’t linger, quickly making their way out of the old yellow lighting of the bar into the badly lit stairway lined with graffiti and old peeling posters and smelling of piss from the toilets towards the open area at the top where the stage was. Here was painted as black as the rest of the joint, walls and floors blending into nothing if it wasn’t for the framed posters advertising upcoming events dotted about. It hid how small the room actually was. And when the only thing lit in the room was the stage, the lights harsh and white, it drew you to it. Something had to. Souda knew the music wasn’t going to do that much.

Case and point, Souda and Hinata did not crowd around the stage like everyone else. They stood to the side, leaning against the dry crusty walls and chatted through the underwhelming pre-show playlist. They only noticed the band had started when Souda jumped out of his skin from the sound of a guitar chord smashing out of the speakers. Hinata laughed at him. Souda saw it rather than heard it, but it wasn’t any less frustratingly endearing. He punched him in the shoulder as revenge. Shirogane was nothing like what he expected for one of Enoshima’s associates. She looked way too plain, too normal. Souda thought she was even worse than Enoshima’s sister for blending into the background, and Souda kept forgetting Enoshima even had a sister until he came to these shows and saw her on the drums again.

Hinata left to buy a round of drinks now that everyone had moved from the bar and up here to the stage. When he returned, they sunk into their usual routine. They huddled close, closer the more they drank, whispering sly comments about the band to each other and laughing at jokes that no one else would get. Their understanding ran deep enough that Souda knew it would only take a look in Hinata’s direction for him to know and start laughing. They had to be careful though. Souda didn’t want to think about the consequences if Enoshima caught them laughing while she sang.

Souda enjoyed the feeling of live music. He liked seeing everyone enjoy it with him, he liked the feeling of the bass drum thumping in his chest, the way the guitar tickled against his skin when it was played just right. He enjoyed it most, though, when the one song he’d never admit to liking that he only knew from over exposure to nights just like this started playing and he could sing along to every cringy lyric with Hinata singing it right back at him.

Kamukura played bass the way a salaryman entered data into a spreadsheet. Now he saw him on stage, he thought it was rich that Kamukura had anything to say about how Hinata was dressed when he was looking like a party shop rip off of Gerard Way. He said as much to Hinata over the music, and when Hinata laughed and leaned on him for support, Souda felt like he was glowing.

“It’s not even his tie!” Hinata yelled over the music smashing against their eardrums, “It’s my dad’s! He couldn’t even be arsed to go to the shop a buy a fucking tie!”

This fact was made all the more hilarious when you took in the large group of girls crowding in front of the section of the stage he was sulking on. If only they knew. But as much as they tried to get his attention, it was for nothing. There was only two things Kamukura was looking at: Chiaki Nanami, and the floor when Nanami looked back at him. Though, Souda imagined Komaeda standing next to her, staring at him in that focused, unwavering way, probably ruined the view. Souda wondered if Komaeda knew Kamukura wasn’t looking at him. Maybe that’s why he stood next to Nanami, biting his lip and holding his hands over his chest, to play pretend for just a little bit. As he watched Komaeda watch Kamukura, knowing full well Kamukura wasn’t watching him back, Souda felt the closest he ever had to understanding the guy.

His hat coming off his head shocked him out of that terrifying train of thought. He automatically grabbed for it, and confusion joined his shock when his hand met his exposed hair. Souda found the answers to all his questions when he saw Hinata holding his hat.

“Dude! Give it back!” Souda yelled. He reached for it, but Hinata snatched it away from him. He started to pout, a bit anxious now it was gone, and old fears started rearing their heads.

The fear lingered even as Hinata smiled at him all bright and mischievous. But he didn’t give the hat back. Instead, Hinata put it on. Suddenly, every bad feeling that had stirred vanished, and Souda didn’t know what he felt at all.

“How do I look?” Hinata asked, turning this way and that, giving Souda a good look at it, at the way it was a little too big, making it slouchy at the back. How his brown hair messily stuck out the front, pushed down towards his forehead, somehow looking both spiker and softer at the same time, and how his ears kind of stuck out a little where the edge pushed against the back of them. It looked cool, it looked edgy. It looked…

Cute. The answer on the tip of his tongue was cute. Hinata looked devastatingly cute in his hat, (his hat, not just any beanie, a fact he suddenly couldn’t move away from) in a way that was kind of fucking him up. And that was scary. Not the fact he found him cute, but that it was serious enough that he was too shy to say it.

(But he had to say something. How should he go about this? Anything close to truthful felt too much, but he didn’t want to lie. This was a date right, shouldn’t he flirt with Hinata? Hinata was so obviously flirting with him. Would he mind if he flirted back? What would he think if he did? What if he was just joking around and he thought Souda was being serious and he got creeped out? Is it okay for him to feel like this- What the hell was he even feeling right now? He needed to say something, he couldn’t just keep staring at Hinata like this because that was almost answer enough but what if he got the wrong idea from that too and then he’d have to explain himself- Maybe he should just lie but the idea of passing up an opportunity like this felt like such a waste-)

He was so blind sighted by his own racing thoughts trying desperately to save the situation he didn’t even notice Hinata reaching forwards until his hand was running through his hair,

“You should show off your hair more.” Hinata shouted over the noise. He got closer, leaning down to his ear and smiling privately, he said, “It’s sexy.”

If Souda wasn’t freaking out before, he was now. Everything inside his head felt like a five-car pileup the moment Hinata breath had tickled against the shell of his ear.

That had felt different, much more serious than he’d ever sounded before. Souda could still feel the heat of his hand on his scalp, his fingers pulling through his hair. Why was he so focused on that? Why couldn’t he move on from any of this? He wanted to move on, because he felt like if he lingered on it much more, if he pushed, something would happen and everything would change and what would that look like? What would that mean for them? He didn’t want to lose Hinata.

But also, he kind of didn’t want him to be joking either. It was a strong enough feeling that he couldn’t bring himself to play it off, even for his own sake. Even if the fear that gripped him made him feel a bit sick.

Souda really didn’t want to think about what that meant. Instead, for some reason, he thought of a check engine sign popping up, yellow and innocuous, on a car’s dashboard.

His lack of reaction gave the confession just enough time to sit that Hinata seemed to come to and realise what he’d just said. His eyes widened, and he stood up sharply, not a trace of the suave and playful guy he’d been not even ten seconds ago lingering.

“I-Uh…I mean- Shit.”

“Are you trying out a new style, Hinata?”

Nagito Komaeda stood behind Hinata looking with quizzical humour at Hinata, and Souda felt cold, draining, familiar disappointment.

At least he wasn’t freaking out anymore.

(He should probably feel grateful for that. He didn’t. Instead, it kind of felt like Komaeda had just come into his garage and put a sledgehammer through his favourite car’s windshield.)

Hinata stuttered a bit, a hand coming up to the hat as if he was suddenly very unsure about it, “Not really, I was just-” he swallowed an awkward laugh, glanced at Souda then away, “Messing around.”

Souda tried not to think of anything at all.

“Ah, that’s a shame.” Komaeda smiled, then, with a tilt of his head that made his hair fall a little further into his face, he said, “It looks really cute on you, Hinata.”

(Komaeda, in his garage, smiling sweetly as he kicked over a can of gasoline, lit a match and threw it over his shoulder, only to laugh when it went boom.)

Hinata’s eyes widened, “Y-You think? Um…thanks?”

Souda snatched his beanie roughly off Hinata’s head.

“H-Hey!? Watch it, hammer hands! You pulled my hair!” Hinata shouted. Then less mad, more confused, “Souda?”

Souda didn’t even turn around. He didn’t know what would come out of his mouth if he let himself speak, so he didn’t say anything at all.

Now he was in the bar, away from the pounding music and the crowd, away from Hinata and Komaeda, he felt his anger seeping away. He walked up to the bar and asked for a glass of water. He accepted it with thanks and stared at it in his hand.

What the hell was he even doing? Why the hell had he even reacted like that? Nothing in his head was making any sense tonight. All he knew was that for some reason, tonight, seeing Hinata look at Komaeda like that was making him sicker than it ever had before. He wasn’t homophobic, was he? He didn’t think he was. Fuck, he really hoped he wasn’t! Was that why the prospect of their relationship had always felt so wrong to him?

But things were different tonight. Komaeda had never been so receptive to Hinata. To go so far and do something so bold as call him cute…He’d definitely never done that before. That should be a good thing. Why didn’t that feel like a good thing? If Miss Sonia had called him cute, Hinata wouldn’t have reacted like he had. Hinata would probably pass out from shock a second before he did and cushion his fall. Hinata was a good friend like that. He wouldn’t make a scene and make the situation all about him instead.

He chugged the water and hoped it would make him feel better. It just kind of sat heavily in his stomach and made him feel a bit sick. His head was spinning, his stomach was a sloshing water balloon, and worst of all, he still had classes tomorrow.

Maybe it was time to go home. If he was going to keep acting like this, maybe it’d be doing Hinata a favour too. He could just leave him and Komaeda to their canoodling, and they could get up to whatever the hell they wanted to get up to far away from Souda’s untraumatized eyes.

Hinata rounding the corner of the stairwell into the bar stopped him in his tracks,

“Souda!” he looked him up and down in a weirdly frantic way, “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Souda grumbled.

Hinata reached out, but didn’t finish the move, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air between the two of them, before he clenched his hand in a fist and shoved it in his pocket instead, “Are you okay? Sorry, I know I was being weird just now. D-Don’t think about it too much. I say the craziest shit around you sometimes. I get…carried away.”

Souda sighed, and he wanted to hide his smile, but it was hard. It always was around Hinata, “Nah, it’s not that.” Hinata stared at him, and Souda got flashbacks to Nanami begging for a drink, except Hinata’s was doing way more weird shit to his chest. A dude should not be able to pull off puppy eyes better than a cute girl like Nanami, “Seriously, dude!” Souda insisted as he walked to the doorway of the Bomb Shelter, nearly laughing, “It’s fine! I’m fine.” Finally, thankfully, Hinata relented. Souda looked at the dark, concrete grey street outside. He shifted the beanie on his head, “Still…”

The girl and her chair and table had long since gone from the entryway now the band had stopped playing. He was in the short entryway between the door and the exit, only one person big. Hinata followed him only that far, stopping in the mouth of the door, a hand on the frame. Souda had looked back to say bye, but Hinata spoke before he could,

“…Do you gotta leave?”

He was so sincere, and he was so genuine, and no one had ever asked Souda to stay before with a look like that, like seeing him with one foot out the door was painful. Souda felt a stone in his throat blocking his exhaust and suddenly he wished someone would give him a reason to stay that didn’t feel like a desperate cop out.

The check engine light was still lit on the dashboard. It stared at him steady and insistent.

“I-” he swallowed around the rock; it dropped to his stomach. He fussed with his hat, with his top, flailed and gestured wildly as he spoke, “J-Just…I probably should go, you know? I’m in the workshop tomorrow, a-and I gotta get started on that project for class too. I, uh, probably shouldn’t be operating that machinery with a hangover…” he laughed. He shouldn’t have bothered. He swallowed it down, and despite the music still playing in the bar, it felt so quiet between them.

Hinata wilted in that doorway, scratching at some paint on the doorframe and staring at his shoes, “Oh, yeah. Fair...” then, he suddenly came back to himself, and stepped forwards, “Then, I’ll come with you.”

Panic flooded Souda, “W-What?! No, dude, stay-”

“This is a date, remember?” Hinata said, leaning into Souda, “I have to walk you home-” and he was smiling in that way that made Souda feel like falling over and in one fell swoop it hooked all the torment he’d forgotten about and dragged it to the surface,

“Dude, quit it with that shit!”

Hinata stepped back, his wide eyes and hands up in surrender was all the proof he needed that he’d probably been a bit too harsh there. But he’d meant it and he wasn’t taking it back.

He was over it. Fuck this pretending. He couldn’t do it anymore. It was fucking with his head. He’d known from the start it was a bad idea, and now…Now they were here.

Wherever here was. Nothing had changed, nothing had even happened for fuck’s sake. So why the hell did it feel like everything was different?

“A-Alright. Alright.” Hinata backed down. He dropped his hands, rubbing them on the backs of his trousers instead. “But I’m serious, you know?” he said after a moment, ducking his head to try and catch Souda’s eye and murmuring gently, “I don’t wanna stay if you’re not here.”

Souda scowled at him, looking him up and down, “What about Komaeda?”

Hinata tucked his hands in his back pockets and shrugged. Then, he smiled boyishly and said like it was the easiest thing in the world, “Whatever.”

Souda really hated how much he believed him. He always believed in him. He was the one person that had been easy for him to really believe in for forever.

Souda thought about class. He thought about his garage and the project and the smell of oil and the feel of gritty metal. He thought about how horrific it would be to sit through class tomorrow on little to no sleep.

He thought about all that time he’d wasted as a kid, studying alone in school while his friends had fun without him. He thought about all the good it did him.

Then, he took one look at Hinata, smiling in the doorway, backlit by old yellow light and Souda realised that even with his head spinning and his heart stalling and all these crazy codes he’d never seen before flashing up on the engine diagnostic machine, none of it matter as long as Hinata still wanted to be with him. He didn’t need another reason to stay. Hinata asking him to was reason enough

“...Fuck it.” he murmured. Souda reset the codes, the check engine light disappeared, and he stepped back into the bar.

Hinata grabbed his wrist, looking concerned, “But what about class?”

Souda smirked at him, wide and dangerous enough that he felt his sharp teeth scrap against his lip. He pulled his arm until he held Hinata’s hand and said, “Whatever.”

And when Hinata smiled back at him, just as wide and just as dangerous, and squeezed his hand until it nearly hurt, nothing could have made Souda regret staying at all.

To think he almost passed up on this just to be sulking at home alone.

The music was blaring, the lights were flashing, and though the band had finished their set, the night was only just beginning. He and Hinata sang along to the songs they knew and danced to make each other laugh to the songs they didn’t. An idea struck him, as he watched Hinata through the changing-coloured lights flashing and striking across his face. He called him forwards, and Hinata came without question. Hinata leaned in, and Souda took his hat off and with unnecessary aggression pulled it onto Hinata’s head and down over his face. Hinata scrambled back, tugging at the hat and pulling it off. His hair was a mess, and he was smiling like he wasn’t even thinking about it. Souda watched him through the smoke and the lights as he pulled the hat onto his head properly and something about the image felt more solid than normal, more real, like even as the scene turned into a memory, he could still touch it, like he could remember all of it exactly as it was forever. He really hoped he would. Hinata was beaming brighter now. He was just enamoured enough by the sight that he didn’t even mind that his stupid hair was out in the open. Hinata looked good enough in his hat that it was worth it.

Their friends found them quickly and huddled around them, and everywhere he looked Souda saw the face of someone he loved. Mioda hooked her arm around his neck as she jumped, and he stumbled into her rhythm, but no one could keep up with Mioda, or that's what he told himself anyway when he had to push her away before he fell over his own feet.

Hinata moved amongst their crowd of friends to be next to him, and when the chorus of a song Souda barely knew started, he hooked his arm around Hinata and sang the lyrics wrong on purpose. Hinata laughed, head tipping back with the weight of it. Souda had to pull him forwards to make sure he didn’t tip back. His cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling, but he could hardly tell. The chorus repeated, and Hinata sang Souda’s stupid made up lyrics along with him.

A harsh collision with his shoulder stole the words from his mouth and nearly made him bite his tongue. He tried to catch himself as he stumbled, but he had just enough alcohol in his system and was just clumsy enough without it that it was a pointless endeavour. His back hit the wall behind them, and something hit his front. When he opened his eyes, he almost wished he hadn’t.

The thing that had collided with him had been Hinata. They’d been so wrapped up in each other that Souda had pulled him down with him. Or well, backwards, into the wall, away from the crowd and on the edge of the lights. Hinata loomed over him, and though beams of coloured lights flashed past them, no light touched Souda as Hinata blocked it all out. A hand either side of his head, nearly a head taller than him. He’d always tried to ignore that difference, hating his height and what it made everyone think about him. Now he didn’t know what he felt, but something about having Hinata almost completely shielding him, protecting him head to toe with just his body alone, was making his heartbeat louder than the bass in the music.

Their eyes locked, and Souda recognised that look in Hinata’s eyes. It was the same one he’d caught him wearing sometimes in the garage when he watched him work, and now Souda was more confused about what it could mean than he ever had been, because that look had never made him feel like this before. Shivers rippled down his body, jaw to chest, tickling against his skin. Or maybe it always had, but Souda had always explained it away, wanting the feeling to be anything other than what it really was. Now, there was no way to hide from it. The room seemed to shrink, the space fading into the background, the music muted and dull, until all he could feel was whatever existed in the space between his chest and Hinata’s. Such a small amount of space, with Hinata’s arms caging him in, it felt like even less than it was. But still Souda didn’t want him to move. He wanted him there, right there, close to him, protecting him, and looking at him like that.

Then, Hinata moved closer. Just a bend in his arm, just a centimetre more. It was hardly anything. It was absolutely everything. He thought about the check engine light again, how it kept coming on, no matter what he did. Then Hinata’s gaze shifted, down until he was staring at his lips, and Souda felt hot enough that he thought he ought to pull off to the side of the road and sit in the shade before his engine caught fire. He had the strangest desire in his bones to pull Hinata closer, to maybe make him his shade and bask in him for a little while. How bad was an engine fire anyway? Right now, all Souda wanted to do was stoke the flames and let it burn until he was completely consumed. He had the distinct feeling that whatever was left behind would be better than what he was now anyway.

He didn’t know what did it, but something snapped him out of it. The room came back into view all at once, like a sudden rush that nearly struck him with vertigo. Hinata being this close, his thoughts, and the eyes of the people around him burning into his psyche made the sickness all the worse. He pushed away from the wall and pushed Hinata away, and everything became nauseatingly clearer the more space he had to think. What the fuck was going on with his head? What was he, some sort of girl?

But out of everything, what freaked him out the most was that he was so freaked out. That meant it was serious. That meant it meant something, something he didn’t want to think about and never wanted to think about and specifically had been putting a lot of energy, actually, into not thinking about. Hinata was backing away, a shy look on his face and a nervous sway to his movement and just watching him was making it worse, making his heart beat harder and making his head swim with a fondness so strong he thought it would level him. He swore he could hear the LED buzz of the check engine light. It was nearly deafening.

“I-I gotta-” he realised speaking was pointless. He couldn’t even hear himself over the music. He felt his embarrassment hooking its claws in deeper. It was making him feel sicker, making his thoughts rush faster as he swung another bat into the hornets’ nest of his brain. He flailed his hands in the direction of the bathroom. Hinata nodded stiffly and waved him off. Souda hardly waited for him to stop, just turned and tried his best not to look like he was running away, even if that was exactly what he was doing.

He turned on the tap at the sink and tried to breathe deeply. It more just turned into hyperventilating, which was really fucking gross because it smelt so bad of shit in the toilet (like actually what the hell are people even doing in here?! Well probably shitting but who the fuck shits at a bar and what the fuck did they have to eat to get it to smell like that?!)

He stared at the mirror. The guy staring back at him pissed him the fuck off. He was still red in the face, eyes wild with fear. The guy looking back looked way too close to a kid he’d tried his hardest to burn out with high volume bleach and peroxide. He smacked himself in the cheeks,

“Fucking- shit! Fucking pull yourself together you fucking moron!” he breathed deeply behind his hands, through the feeling of his face stinging, “It’s just Hinata.” he said to no one in particular. Outside the bathroom, the music continued to play, muffled now through the walls. Souda was so happy he was alone in here. He turned back to the mirror and said slowly and sternly, “It’s just…The most important guy in your life. He’s just…” Souda stared at his reflection in the mirror with a set jaw. He gripped the edge of the sink tighter, until his knuckles went white, “A guy.” Souda’s thoughts swam, his hand slipped on the porcelain sink from the sweat building up on them, “Fuck.” Souda whined and pushed the balls of his hands into his eyes. This was too much for one night.

This wasn’t even a date anymore. So why did it feel more like one now than it had all night? He wished he could know what Hinata was thinking. He wished he could talk to Hinata about this. He could always talk to Hinata about shit like this. Now there was no chance, not when so much of this was about Hinata. What if he was completely creeped out? What if these stupid feelings he was suddenly having ruined everything? He believed in Hinata…But this was different. This was so completely and horribly different. And a shitty, dirty bathroom in this shitty, dirty bar is really not the place where he wanted to be having this sort of catastrophic type of realisation about himself!

(Did that mean he didn’t like girls now? Had he ever liked girls? No, he must’ve. He must still like girls. His feelings for Miss Sonia were so real, and there was…You know, all that other proof but he really didn’t need his mind going anywhere close to that sort of territory right now, with everything else that was going on he thought he might just have an aneurism and die in this shitty smelling bathroom on the mysteriously wet floor and that was not how he was going to go if he had any sort of say in the matter!)

He needed to calm down. He could deal with this. It’s not like he had to sort any of this out right now, right this second. Okay, so he probably liked Hinata. So what? He’d liked Miss Sonia for way longer and nothing had happened between them! The fact that that thought was comforting said everything about how low he’d really fallen tonight. But in the end, it still made sense. Nothing had to change between them, and even if it did (which it wouldn’t!) it wouldn’t be tonight. Souda could totally pull himself together and just keep acting natural for the rest of the night then absolutely blow up about all this again later on in the comfort of his own room.

He liked that plan. That plan was easy and would embarrass him the least. He loved plans like that.

So, when he walked back into the stage room, into the pounding music of the after show soundtrack and the small but writhing group of people dancing, it shouldn’t have mattered to him that Hinata was with Komaeda again.

The plan was a good plan. Souda was more and more convinced of that fact the longer he watched Komaeda and Hinata talk. Ignoring these feelings until they went away was probably the only option he had, because when it came to him or Komaeda, he knew he never stood a chance. Komaeda was pretty and edgy and tall and skinny and mysterious. Komaeda had intrigue. Komaeda had danger, he was interesting and alluring and exactly everything Souda wasn’t.

Here he was again, pining after someone so far out of his league everyone around him could see it. Pining for someone who would never want him back and deluding himself enough to think that maybe one day they’d settle for someone like him. But this time was a bit different at least. Souda didn’t mind not being good enough to be Hinata’s man, as long as he could keep being his friend.

Didn’t mean he didn’t wish he could’ve been. Now the box had been unlocked, Souda couldn’t help the fantasies of them that had sprung out like he’d opened a box of frogs. It was just as difficult to wrangle them back inside and keep them there. Once upon a time, he’d thought they were the same. Hinata was one of the few people he’d met who really understood him, and not just in a guessing way, but felt it, knew it. That had been so special to him. He was feeling a bit silly about how important that had been to him now. The feeling probably wasn’t mutual.

Hinata looked distracted as he talked to Komaeda, or maybe that was just him being nervous. Souda would be nervous too. He wished he could root for him. He still felt too bitter to do something like that. He could feel his head begin to swim again. He was on the edge of sobering up, and drinking anymore this late into the night was probably a bad idea if he wanted any chance of actually getting home at a reasonable time tonight.

Komaeda and Hinata were talking, Hinata was moving quite animatedly. Komaeda was grinning at him. They were getting closer.

It was time to leave. He’d go up and tell Hinata goodbye and mean it this time, no matter what he said.

Then, Kamukura appeared from back stage, and Komaeda saw him. Suddenly, Komaeda was very close to Hinata. Souda couldn’t’ see Hinata’s face, but he could see Komaeda watching Kamukura over his shoulder. He watched Komaeda watch Kamukura over Hinata’s shoulder as Kamukura glided through across the room, cutting through the crowd like a hot knife through butter, over towards Hinata. He watched Kamukura talk to Hinata, and Hinata point at somewhere across the crowd, and Kamukura walk past them. Komaeda tried to pull Hinata along after him. Hinata stopped him, holding him by the arm, shouting something, but he didn’t know what.

He watched Komaeda push Hinata away. He watched him shout after him, and watched Komaeda disappear into the crowd. Souda stood, mouth agape, too shocked to act, until he saw Hinata run across the crowd and push out into the smoking shelter, and then Souda was running after him.

“Fuck!”

“Dude!” Souda shouted, the door swinging shut behind him without a care for who it could hit. The bright, white lights lit the area artificially. It was so much lighter out here than it was inside. Souda hardly flinched at the change, too focused on the boy sliding down in the rusted iron fence at the edge of the balcony, “What the fuck happened?”

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” Hinata replied, head in his hands. He’d crouched down, squatting on the wood slatted floor. Souda thought he probably hadn’t even heard him. He ducked down to his level and grabbed his shoulders,

“Shut up – No, don’t say shit like that about yourself, dude!”

“But it’s the truth though!” Hinata’s voice cracked. Something inside Souda cracked with it. He stood up, a fury itching his bones that he couldn’t ignore.

“No, you know what? You are! You are a fucking idiot!”

Hinata sniffed then looked up at him, hurt shining in his eyes, “W-What?”

“I can’t stand it anymore dude!” Souda shouted, shoulders straight and meaning every word more than he’d meant anything in his life, “If you still seriously think that guy is worth even a second of your time, then yeah, you are a fucking idiot! And that’s coming from me! That’s when you know it’s bad dude! When I’m the one speaking sense in this relationship!” Souda was sick of speaking down at Hinata. It wasn’t right. Hinata wasn’t ever supposed to look this small, and it was pissing him off. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to his feet, pushing him back into the waist high fence and forcing him to stand. He stared Hinata dead in the eyes, and spat, “Fuck. Him.”

Hinata flinched at that. He cowered back into his shoulders, huddling close to himself like he could hide away into himself, “I just don’t get it.” his face creased with something angry, something painful, “What the fuck is so special about that- lab rat freak-” Hinata made a frustrated noise as he bit his tongue. He pushed his hands into his face hard, “You don’t even know the half of it. You don’t understand. No one fucking understands.” Hinata moaned, “Of course he’d pick him over some worthless nobody like me. I picked him over me too.”

Souda couldn’t control himself. The impact of the punch on his fist was the first he registered of the action happening at all.

Hinata grabbed his jaw, his voice wobbling as he cried, “W-What- What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

The moment his actions fully registered, embarrassment quickly followed. Hinata was right. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” he yelled, covering up his shame at his impulsive actions. Standing his ground was easier than backing down, and Souda really wanted to prove a point. “I won’t let you speak about yourself like that! No fucking way dude!”

“SO YOU FUCKING PUNCHED ME, YOU PSYCHOPATH?! I SHOULD KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS-”

“SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME-” Souda shouted and thankfully, Hinata listened, still cradling his face, still glaring Souda down with a sort of crazed, restrained anger that was honestly more than a little bit scary. Souda was suddenly filled with even more regret for his actions than he had been before. “S-Saying that shit about yourself- It really pisses me off! How can you say that about yourself when you’re so much better than me?! Then what does that make me, huh?!”

Hinata shook his head in confusion, “What are you talking about?!”

Souda grabbed his shoulders and shook him, “We’re the same!” Hinata gave him a look so unexpectedly shocked that Souda nearly lost his footing. He held Hinata’s shoulders tighter, “So, you calling yourself a worthless nobody- You may as well be calling me a worthless nobody too! Do you think I’m worthless?!”

“No, of course not!”

“Then you aren’t the fucking problem.” he let him go, too angry to stay still. He backed up, scratching his hands through his hair to try and disperse some of the unrelenting agitation that was building and building inside him the more he thought about everything, “I won’t just–just stand around and let you keep beating yourself up over some fucking guy who isn’t worth your spit! I’ve suffered in silence for too long over this. I’m drawing a line in the fucking sand.

“Listen to me. Hinata, you-” he stopped, choking on his tongue that usually moved so much faster than his brain. The meaning of his words stopped him. The weight they held too much to be thrown so carelessly. And yet, here he was. He threw his caution to this wind, and let it all out, “You’re funny and loyal and the bestest friend I’ve ever had and like, literally the greatest guy I’ve ever fucking known, and you deserve someone who acts like they know what a fucking catch you are. Someone who knows how fucking awesome and sexy you are and knows that getting to have you as their man is like-like winning the fucking lottery or something!”

He’d never seen Hinata look like how he was looking at him right now. There was a wobble in his smile that matched the strange shine in his eye. “You’re drunk.” he choked out over whatever he was holding back in his chest.

“I am drunk! But I mean this. I’ve always meant it. Ask me tomorrow and I’ll say it again!” Souda stared at Hinata, and Hinata held his gaze, and Souda hoped his voice would come out solid, but knew it wouldn’t, as he confessed, “You’re one of a kind, dude.”

All he registered was Hinata moving. His brain froze, ready for something it didn’t know what, but knew it would be something bad. It had always been something bad. It was usually something bad.

Hinata kissing him didn’t feel bad. Hinata’s hands cupped against the edge of his jaw and tilted his head up so he could reach him, leaning down, pushing his weight into the kiss. Hinata lips against his and Souda didn’t know what to think beyond that.

Then, as quickly as it started it was over. Hinata pulled back with an audible smack of their lips and stared at him like he’d just woken up from sleepwalking and found out that he’d walked into the middle of town butt naked. Souda kind of understood. He figured he was probably looking at him the exact same way, if the way his jaw hung open was anything to go by.

Hinata had kissed him.

“Shit.” Souda said emphatically.

“Shit.” Hinata replied.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK-

Had he meant to do that? Was he just fucking with him? That seemed a bit of a step too far, even with how far Hinata usually went when it came to their play flirting (and it had been playing, right? It had to have been playing. Souda would know if he was being flirted with (he’d know if he was being flirted with, right?! (but why the hell would Hinata be seriously flirting with him?!))

He couldn’t think about this. He could feel his brain breaking. He had to move on, he had to make a joke, push him away, punch him again, do something do anything to fix this-

He couldn’t.

Hinata was between his arms, still holding his face, still looking at him like he was just as confused and conflicted about all of this. He couldn’t be the one to push him away first.

He couldn’t not think about it anymore. How many times had he imagined strangling people for ignoring their check engine light for months on end then raging over the high price they had to pay for sticking their head in the sand despite the raging and obvious warning signs?

There was no more resetting this code. There was no more hiding. Screw pushing this feeling away. Screw a life spent pining over Hinata from the sidelines. Screw every bad thought and insecurity and indecision and the fear (oh, the fear! The fucking fear!) that threatened to rush to the surface the longer they stared dumbfounded at each other.

That felt good. Kissing Hinata had felt good. That fact still tingled against his lips, still burned in his cheeks, warm and pleasant enough that Souda didn’t care about what it meant about him, about Hinata, about them, about anything that had happened before or would happen from now on. Souda didn’t care about anything other than kissing Hinata again. And when Hinata met him halfway, as their cars collided one more time, he knew that Hinata was thinking the exact same thing.

Souda didn’t know what he was doing. God, he wished he knew what he was doing. He wished that someone else had taught him what to do so he could kiss Hinata properly, like he deserved to be kissed. But even so, he couldn’t help but be so happy Hinata was his first, here alone with the music dulled to nearly nothing twinkling in the air around them. Hinata kissed him like he wanted to keep kissing him. He kissed him like it was all he wanted to do, slow and deep and so incredibly interested. It made Souda feel less bad about his roaming hands. He dragged a hand down Hinata’s body, and the muscle hidden under a soft and giving layer of fat made him want to keep touching. When the hell had Hinata gotten so...manly? And why was this realisation making him feel hotter?

He cupped Hinata’s face, tried to move him, acting like he knew what he was doing. All it succeeded in was his sharp teeth catching against his lip. Hinata gasped and flinched, and in a moment like an electric shock, Souda thought he’d ruined it all. But no. In fact, it may have been the opposite. Hinata dived back in, somehow more intense than before, and Souda couldn’t hold back his laughter even as it completely ruined their rhythm. Hinata was a freak. Well, it’s not like Souda really minded. He was kind of a freak too.

Hinata finally pulled away. Souda watched him lick his lips and thought that maybe things had ended too soon.

But Souda didn’t have the guts, and Hinata was already moving back before he’d made the decision. Hinata hardly looked at him, and if he wasn’t blushing so obviously, Souda might’ve taken the worry that everything was about to fall to pieces in front of him he felt tingling at the back of his mind just a little more seriously.

Hinata cleared his throat. He rubbed a hand on his head and seemed surprised to find the hat there. He lay his hand on it, then glanced at Souda with a coy smile, “Do you, uh, want your hat back?”

Souda laughed into his fist, “Nah…” Souda tried to restrain his smile. It didn’t work. He tugged at the hat on Hinata's head, “Looks better on you anyway.”

Hinata giggled, and Souda felt like the biggest loser ever for how his heart skipped at the sound of it.

“Let’s get out of here.” Hinata whispered. He hooked a finger under Souda’s chin and guided his head so he was looking at him. Souda hadn’t even realised he’d looked away. Now he was looking at him again, he remembered why he had. Hinata was much too handsome to be looking at someone like him like that, “Come home with me.”

Souda felt his entire face go up in flames. His smile stretched, pushing painfully into his cheeks as his brain sped like a bullet train down absolutely the wrong way into a station in his mind Souda didn’t even know existed.

“I-hehe- Uuhhhhhhhh” Souda felt his eyes going out of focus.

“Dude, come on, not like that.” Hinata was still laughing at him, and it wasn’t helping with the many complicated layers of embarrassment he was feeling in that moment. “You’re so cute.”

Souda felt his head explode.

“N-NO I’M NOT! SHUT THE FUCK UP STOP MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DICK-”

Hinata kissed him again, so easily, again, and Souda suddenly couldn’t remember what he’d been mad about. Or he could, but suddenly being angry over it was a lot harder. He was too embarrassed about all of this. He couldn’t cope and couldn’t believe this was happening to him and couldn’t deal with how truly happy it was making him. He hid his face in Hinata’s neck and whined. He only whined louder when he heard Hinata was still fucking laughing at him.

He heard the door to the smoking shelter open. He jumped away from Hinata and tried to remember how he’d acted before he knew how his best friend tasted. It was pointless to pretend. What had happened out under the balcony on this cool summer night was written all over Hinata’s face, his goofy smile as much of a smoking gun as if Souda had smeared his lipstick across his lips.

The group that entered walked to the back to smoke their cigarettes. Hinata grabbed his wrist and tugged him towards the door,

“Come on.”

Souda should say no. He had class tomorrow and a project to start and he probably should take some time alone to figure out everything that was going wrong in his head. He still wasn’t even sure this wasn’t some sort of joke. Hinata had always flirted with him, always enjoyed the rise he got out of him from it. What if this was just that? What if Souda was the idiot, yet again, for believing in someone so truly? (Who the hell would even choose him anyway? This wasn’t supposed to happen to guys like him. Wasn’t Hinata embarrassed? Wasn’t this weird? Why wasn’t Hinata looking at him like he was a freak?)

He thought about all the times he’d said no in the past. He thought about an adolescence soaked in regret. Summers spent missing out and waiting for something big to happen that would make him feel like he was worth something. He thought about all the stories he’d heard of moments like this, and the look in the eyes of the people who finished those stories with, “I wish I’d said yes.”. Did he want to have that same look in his eye, when he told the story of this night in the future? Did he want it to end in this smoking shelter?

He didn’t even know why he bothered asking.

He’d thought it would be different. He thought it would be weird. But nothing had changed at all, even though everything had. And when they were up late, too late into the night, their favourite movie playing, sharing quotes between each other because they’d watched it so often they could play the parts themselves, tangled in sheets so familiar they could be his own, with a boy who knew everything about him and more and still managed to look at him like that, like there was no one else in the world for him, Souda felt stupid for ever ignoring that damn check engine light.

There was no where he’d rather be than here, because there was no-one he’d rather be with more than his best friend. Laying with his legs tangled with Hinata’s, wearing one of Hinata’s old shirts to sleep in, he felt okay thinking that, because he knew Hinata was thinking it too.

There was no chance he was going to class tomorrow.

#BREATHES i saw this posted yesterday and i saved it for later bc i knew it was gonna make me SCREAM #and i was RIGHT!!!!! OMG this is a good fic!#day ONE #prompt FIRST DATE #day SIX #prompt HOPE’S PEAK #i really enjoyed how you wrote them here op!! i like how you explained the relationships going on and how you described soudas feelings ;u;#AAAAA souda angst! haji angst! soul friends angst! but it’s ok they figured it out in the end yayyy!!! ;u;#a TREAT of a fic here op! great work! 👍🏼

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you're gonna ride shotgun with me forever!