#not bcring

Oh. Huh. Braidyn's not sure what to do with that, if he's honest. Girls don't usually say things that imply they think he's a decent person.

"Thanks? Thank you. I trust you, too, babygirl. Sorry. Is it bad to babygirl you when we're having a serious moment? Are we having a serious moment? Shit, let me try that again."

Deep breath. Hand on her shoulder. Lip bite smoulder. No, tone that back. Deep breath again.

"I trust you, too. And I'm really glad you're in my life, and I don't ever wanna let you down. But, uh, I admittedly am maybe kinda new to the relationship thing. And turns out liking a girl and wanting to make her happy is a different thing than, like, getting bitches. You're not bitches to me. You're my most special, epic girl of all time."

She is. And he doesn't even look at her boobs when he says it. He doesn't even consciously choose not to look at her boobs, cause he honestly wants to look at her face. Nice.

❝  i know this might sound weird but,  do you wanna stay over?  i guess ‘sleepover’ sounds kind of childish but.  i think it’d be nice.  ❞ - (( Kazuichi @ Bill because on this blog we ball ))

It doesn't sound childish. It sounds gay. Unfortunately, Bill really, honestly does want to stay over, and he can't tear into the offer too hard if he's gonna accept it.

"I'm a real good friend, so I'm gonna give you a tip here. Cool guys don't invite their friends to stay over. They just don't make anyone leave, and all of a sudden it's the next morning. Unless you're a loser and people don't want to hang out that long, in which case you really don't want to have made a formal invitation."

Bill is pretty sure that's a clear yes. But just in case...

"So, what kind of homo shit do you even do at a sleepover? If that's what you wanna call this. You got any junk food or movies or anything?"

He looks Kaz over as he waits for an answer. It is kinda cute, honestly. The way he got all self conscious about inviting Bill to stay, and the way he wanted Bill to stay. It's not something he likes to admit to himself, but Bill isn't really the kind of person people are scrambling to get closer to. Or to stay in the same general vicinity as. But Kazuichi seems to like him, and to think his collections and trivia are cool, and to be okay with the fact that he doesn't speak Japanese or get along with most of their fellow students. Which is cool. Nice, even.

Byakuya is beautiful.

He's the most beautiful person Makoto has ever seen, man or woman. With bright eyes and hair that shines and a voice that makes Makoto's spine tingle with excitement... because his voice is also something that makes him beautiful. Makoto never believed that 'beauty' was something that only described appearance. Maybe it's cliche, but beauty isn't only skin-deep. Wait— No. That's not how the saying goes.... Whatever. The point is that it's not, and Byakuya Togami is living proof of that.

Because his voice is beautiful, his intelligence is beautiful, his solutions to situations— like offering a lollipop to a crying classmate —and his turn of phrase— sometimes... okay, often insulting but in a charming kinda way —his incorrect conclusions that he's always so confident in, his smirk and his smile and his 'i cant believe youre this stupid' frown that, lately, has been ghosted by a following 'but i find it endearing-' .... maybe just tolerable. He finds it tolerable.

But Makoto doesn't mind being tolerated... Not if it's by Byakuya.

Because thanks to being 'tolerated', he's witnessed Byakuya smile. Genuinely, wonderfully, beautifully SMILE. Seen him angry, confused, uncertain... broken.... Seen him happy, content, safe. He's SEEN Byakuya. He's allowed to. Because, for some reason, Byakuya lets him. He's... special enough to. And it's unbelievable. So unbelievable that, as he sits there on the edge of his bed (having taken refuge from Komaru and closed the door, despite the loud 'oooooooh~'s that had drawn from the other side of it) with his textbook open but forgotten beside him, the conversation having taken another turn thanks to Makoto's seeming inability to remain focused and Byakuya's kindness in indulging him....

Makoto can hardly believe it.

Byakuya is sitting on his bed beside him... and he's smiling. Laughing even, however softly as if still trying to hold onto a 'refined' composure. But he doesn't need to. Not here. Not with Makoto. Not tucked away in this small, strange little space. Filled with odd little rocks, models of dinosaurs and rockets and anything else Makoto could put together with his hands when he felt antsy, posters of stars and constellations and a million cheesy motivational quotes on the walls... Obviously lived in, yet organized in SOME insane way only Makoto could explain. It's weird, and little, and kinda messy just like its owner— and it's a safe place where Makoto has survived many-a-disaster.

He just never expected to start one within its sacred walls.

Not until he looks at Byakuya, gazing up at him with wide eyes and lips slightly parted in an awestruck smile. Soaking in a radiance that Makoto certain everyone else must notice. How could they not? Byakuya is practically shining... and softly breathes something that he's admitted to himself several times (after far too long of not understanding what This feeling was) but never dared say to the man beside him. Because, as fantastical as all of this is, he knows better than to dream of anything more. But god, does Makoto know one thing just as certainly as he knows Byakuya could never feel the same...

❝ I wish you'd kiss me... ❞ - ( *yeets* )

"What was that, Naegi? Something about a wish?"

Byakuya knows what Makoto just said. He heard the words, and he can see it in the way Makoto's face flushes, the way he's leaning almost imperceptibly closer, the way they've been brushing their fingers against each other and then jerking away all afternoon. Or maybe it's only Byakuya who retreats like that.

Regardless, he gives Makoto a chance to pull back, to say it's nothing, to deny any feelings that he's not ready for. Which he well might. Makoto is a sweet, timid boy. He's not nearly self confident enough, and he's too kind for his own good. Of course, that doesn't mean he'll never be brave enough to ask for the affection he so clearly deserves. Just that it's likely it'll take him a while.

Honestly, Byakuya has been banking on Makoto being shy. Not because he doesn't want him. Because he wants him too much, and where they are now is a happy medium. He can be near Makoto, lean over him while showing him what he's done right or wrong, put his hand over Makoto's to guide his penmanship, sit in his adorable little bedroom and laugh at his dull yet fascinating little stories. As is, they can have all the softness and intimacy they want without stepping into the terrifying unknown that is explicit romance.

Byakuya's far too smart to think he could take that step without... repercussions. From his classmates, perhaps, but more importantly from the press and his father. The mere thought of telling his father he has a boyfriend-- or worse, having him find out without being told-- makes Byakuya's blood run cold.

Then again, the mere thought of Makoto's lips on his has him warm and flushed and stupid. So the easy solution is to leave it up to Makoto. If he wants to be bold, he can get his kiss. If he doesn't, nothing is gained nor lost.

Right? Of course right.

Still, Byakuya lets his face stay soft, in what he's fairly certain is something resembling a smile, and holds eye contact, quietly willing him not to back away.

Byakuya loves Makoto. He loves Makoto more than he thought was possible, more than he’s ever loved anyone.

But, God, can Makoto be stupid sometimes.

Byakuya lets Makoto say his piece before responding, but even as his stomach twists with pity and guilt, a cold anger spreads through him.

“Of course it wouldn’t be okay if I hit you. That would be horrible, and I’d never even think of it.

“But I’m not your father. I don’t get to make decisions on how to parent you. If your father broke your wrist— not that it’s broken, it’s probably just a twist or a bad bruise— I would have no right to tell him to stop. I would be upset on your behalf. But I would respect that that is his decision as a parent.”

Byakuya’s not honestly sure that what he’s saying is true, but he’s far too stubborn to backtrack.

There's no denying the danger of being out of one's room during nighttime. It's been proven again and again, much like how Byakuya has proven that he couldn't care less about their self-imposed regulations or courtesies. Or even thinks that he's in danger of being killed. Makoto doesn't know how much of that last one is true or just another grand act from the skilled male, but either way— it's disconcerting. Almost as disconcerting as no one having seen Byakuya since he spoke to him last, and Makoto getting no answer after knocking on his bedroom door.

Not that he expected Byakuya to be there... Still, he had hoped it.

Hurrying to the one place he's nearly-certain the other is, Makoto tenses at the unfamiliar sounds— No. They are familiar. REALLY familiar. One doesn't grow up in an emotional household such as his without knowing what crying sounds like. Makoto just- didn't expect to hear it coming from That Voice. Swallowing thickly, as if that will keep the confused and oddly-guilty knot from escaping his throat, Makoto warily peeks from behind the bookshelves, as if wanting to prove that what he thinks is happening is ACTUALLY happening.

Eyes wide and breath hitching, Makoto quietly makes his way closer, a hand hesitantly reaching out to try and gingerly place against Byakuya's back if allowed, ❝ T-Togami-kun? ❞ Chimes his voice, far softer and more gentle than it has any right to be. - ( *Y E E T S*)

Byakuya Togami doesn’t cry. He simply doesn’t. Emotions are messy and vulnerable and weak, and he cannot represent his family as any of those things.

Yet, here he is, sitting on the floor of the library, curled into his knees, and sobbing.

He couldn’t bring himself to go to his room to cry. It’s not a safe space the way the library is, and it would taint the sense of control he has if he cried there. When he’s in his room he owns everything, and he’s in a position of relative power. Those walls don’t get to see him break down.

The library, on the other hand, is a space that he knows he doesn’t own but that he could never feel unwelcome in. Besides, no one is going to find him there. Not after the stupid announcement says it’s nighttime, and probably not before, either. None of them read. They’re not people of culture like Byakuya is. At least, that’s the explanation he likes best.

He’s so confident he’s alone that he doesn’t notice Makoto approaching until it’s too late to plausibly deny that he’s an emotional wreck.

Gonta could cut in and explain that, actually, some bugs are very dangerous. Some of them are venomous, or poisonous, or powerful in numbers. But Kokichi loves bugs, so he probably already knows. Instead, it's his final claim that Gonta refutes, a look of fear and shock spreading over his face.

"Oh, no! Gonta no hurt anyone! Gonta never kill friends. Just because Gonta big don't mean he do that. Gonta strong to protect friends and bugs. And to give big comfy hugs. See?"

With that, he scoops Kokichi up, holding him close but taking care not to crush him.

Kokichi, Gonta thinks, is a lot like a bug. He's small and clever and very pretty, with his own distinct markings and colors. And Gonta is going to protect him, no matter what it takes.

"Kokichi no kill anyone either, okay? Seeing people hurting make Gonta sad. We all work together and escape, and then Gonta show Kokichi whole world of bugs!" He pulls Kokichi closer into his chest, excitement getting the better of him, then hears something pop and holds him at arm's length with concern.

Makoto doesn’t know if it’s been long enough… He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he raced over to Byakuya; since he got him away from that terrible place— that terrible PERSON —since he took him somewhere safe, tried to make him feel safe as Makoto carefully tended to his wounds with skilled hands. Since he started holding him, kissing him, reassuring him with soft touches and tender words. It… hurts. It hurts so much to see Byakuya like this. To not know if he can help, to be… a little scared to. Because as much as he might love Byakuya, there are some things Makoto can’t understand.

Like how Byakuya could choose a business, a family name, a man who does nothing but harm him… How he could aim to protect all of that, even NOW. After this… After everything he’s been through.

Makoto doesn’t know if it’s been long enough to ask, but Byakuya seems to be able to breathe easier than before. And Makoto fears that if he doesn’t take this moment of courage, the night might slip away into fitful slumber before he gets another chance. So, breathing in deeply, he places a hand on Byakuya’s cheek, thumb gently rubbing against tear-stained and bruised skin, and carefully eases his boyfriend to look at him. Voice soft as his action, Makoto hesitantly inquires, ❝ Byakuya? Are… Are you going back there? Back- to him? ❞

Swallowing thickly, Makoto winces but refuses to look away as he admits, ❝ I don’t want you to. ❞ - ( *throws This because of reasons* )

Of course Makoto, with his bleeding heart, wouldn’t understand. He’s too good to. He still believes that the world operates on principles of kindness and hope and love, and he’s not entirely wrong, but he’s far from picking up on the intricacies of how these things work.

Byakuya, on the other hand, understands all too well what's expected of him. It's for this reason that he tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his wrist, the tenderness in spots he hadn't realised could bruise so quickly, the shame pooling in his heart. He doesn't want to go back. He's certain he doesn’t want to go back, but he doesn’t really have a choice.

It’s bittersweet, how Makoto makes it sound like there’s something else for him. Like he wasn’t raised very carefully for one purpose, and now he’s nothing without it.

Makoto may claim he would love Byakuya without his family name, without his privilege and position and ability, but Byakuya knows better. There wouldn’t be a Byakuya for Makoto to love if he weren’t the Togami heir. All his ability, all that makes him exceptional, stems from his father’s training, and he knows that.

So as romantic as it would be, as happy as it would make him… he can’t just up and leave. He can’t just build himself a new life. Because he owes all that he is to his father, and his family, and his position in society, and it’s almost time for him to give something back. He just has to stick it out a little longer, and then he'll be in charge.

“Makoto,” he starts, voice quiet and wet, “I… I don’t want me to either. But I have to be brave. You understand that, don’t you?"