#freaky behavior

Kouki Sawakita bursts downstairs mere minutes after an anon pointed out yet another thing Maeko can’t do right, holding five journals and wearing comically thick glasses, for some reason. He looks enough like an adorable soggy twink version of Kyoya Ootori to distract Maeko from the issue at hand for a moment. Now that she thinks about it, maybe that’s the reason. 

“Kouki, what are you-“ 

“Showing you the list of times you did something right,” he replies, putting four of the journals down on the coffee table to scan the pages of the other. 

“Kouki, you don’t have to-“ 

“September 8!” he shouts over Maeko’s concern. “You got a 92 on a pop quiz that I… well, my score on that quiz is irrelevant. The point is that it was brutal, and you somehow managed to get a high score I… couldn’t.” 

“That was unfair. The teacher must hate you or something, even though you’re impossible to hate once someone gets to know you and I will not hear otherwise, but how else would you get a negative t- tests don’t matter!”

“Alright then,” Kouki continues. “Also September 8. On our way home, you stopped three people from punching me in the face, and one businessman in a rush from running into oncoming traffic.” 

“He probably wouldn’t have-“ 

“As a side note, you’ve saved me from oncoming traffic one hundred nineteen times, and I know for a fact that I would not have noticed and been hit at least eighty three of them.” 

Kouki proceeds to flip through the notebook more and more frantically, adjusting his oversized glasses as they slip continuously before letting them fall off of his nose and onto the floor. He’s too adorable for his own good when he gets like that. He looks so squeezable- but if Maeko squeezed him, he’d probably end up crushing his bones. Everything she does ends up hurting him in the end, doesn’t it?

“September 9th- okay, what the hell? I really need to take better notes- there’s an entire page that’s just various biting related sound effects. I was definitely having a strange evening, because no matter how amazing it is when you ‘bite chomp chew munch num nom nom offu offu nibble nom munch munch lick lick nibble chew chomp bite’- you get the point, right? The point is that it isn’t exactly important.” 

“It’s always important,” Maeko responds, mentally nibbling at his shoulder. He’d probably end up biting too hard, if she actually nibbled- tearing straight through his flesh and hurting him like he always does.

“Well, I- wow- um- that’s not the point!” Kouki is so cute when he awkwardly blushes and turns away like that, desperately flipping through the pages of his journal. “The point is- what the hell was I even trying to get to? The next page is more biting sound effects- how many pages did I fill with this shit? Okay, we’re at ten, twenty- and oh, here’s something new- damnit, it’s just tally marks for ‘the number of times your cat ears flicked in 24 hours on September 10’. How sidetracked did I even get? Screw it. I’m improvising.”

Kouki drops the journal, seemingly deciding that if he’s holding something, it might as well be Maeko’s hands. 

“Maeko” slips out- not a gasp anymore, but a sigh. The moment Kouki holds her hands, his expression relaxes, and Maeko can tell he’s resisting the urge to melt into him. Really, he’s adorable when he’s flustered- but it’s the moments she snaps him out of his thoughts that Maeko cherishes the most. 

“I’ve always had trouble sleeping, Maeko- and I realize now that I probably should have been more honest about the reason,” Kouki says as Maeko fights the urge to get lost in his eyes. “Or- well, there are a lot of reasons, really- but my nightmares are one of them. Honestly, I thought it was normal to have them daily until an anon mentioned it wasn’t.” 

“You have nightmares, and I made them worse, because everything I do manages to fuck you up somehow-” “I love you, Maeko, and only one part of that is correct.” 

“But- but you- and I didn’t know- how did I not know, Kouki? I fucked it up, I fucked you up, I-” “Well, isn’t it obvious? You didn’t know when you watched me from afar because I didn’t sleep more than once or twice a week. My reasoning was that I wanted to keep my eyes open to Teruhashi’s radiance as much as possible, and parting from that radiance was hell even in my subconscious.” 

“Oh, Kouki, you-” “Sorry about that!” he tries to force a shaky smile onto his expression before letting go of this hope with a sigh before looking down at Maeko’s hands. “I know you were taking my example.” 

“Kouki, my issues were not your fault.” 

“You fucking hypocrite,” Kouki mouths, pulling Maeko in- and yeah, he is. They always have been. Someday, they won’t be. 

“Fair enough,” Maeko mumbles, brushing through his hair as he slowly pulls away to meet her eyes. 

“My nightmares aren’t your fault, either- and honestly, they haven’t been a problem as of late.” “Stop lying to me, Kouki.” 

“I’m not! Or- I was being intentionally vague. The nightmares themselves have been worse than usual, but I attributed that to sleeping more, and- well, other things.” The air between them grows heavier for a moment, and the slight loosening of Kouki’s grip speaks more than words ever could. In response, Maeko just holds his hands tighter. 

“They aren’t a problem anymore, though. Really, the reason you don’t know is because I usually fall asleep again pretty quickly afterwards.” Kouki’s eyes glimmer back into focus, and he finally manages a smile. “Because when I have them, I wake up next to you!” 

“You still have them, though,” Maeko whispers. There has to be something he can do to help. 

“I do,” Kouki replies, looking down just a little. “And- yeah, the melatonin probably made them a little worse, looking back, but- well, Maeko, you’ve still helped with them more than you know. If you hadn’t done at least a million things right in your life, I either still wouldn’t know they were nightmares or I wouldn’t be alive to have them.” 

Both of them had almost forgotten where they were, hugging in a living room with an appropriate amount of photos hanging from the walls and a rug that hasn’t been stained by blood, tears, vomit, or diarrhea for a month now. After the life they’ve both lived, it’s hard to remember what’s real sometimes- but as long as they can hold onto each other, they catch sight of reality soon enough. 

“That doesn’t change that I fucked up,” Maeko finally says, breaking the silence. 

“So? I love your fuckups.” 

Oh wow. Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow, oh wow. Damnit, Maeko needs to think of a better line. 

“I love your fuckups more.” Kouki instantly begins to stammer, cheeks flooding with a familiar blush. Maeko wants nothing but to kiss that stupid, adorable expression off of his face- but Kouki beats him to it. 

His lips linger for longer than she expected, hands holding him so tightly something tells her he won’t be letting go for at least a few hours. Then, he pulls away with a smile that finally seems at least a little real. 

“Sheesh,” Kouki flirts. “‘I can’t do anything right’ this, ‘I love your fuckups more’ that- you really don’t know what you’re talking about, do you?”

“…I think I know what I’m talking about, at least when I’m talking about loving the most adorable man alive.” 

“Well, as the number one source on the most adorable man alive, I must dissent,” Kouki corrects, as Maeko puts all of her effort into not exploding into a billion gazillion pieces on the spot. “If you need proof of my credibility, feel free to take a look.” Kouki gestures to the abandoned stack of journals. 

“Half of those are filled with biting sound effects.” 

“You’re the one who said those were important.” 

“…I’m a sore loser, okay?” 

“You’re my sore loser.”