#obanemi

It had been like this for so long, now. Time and time again, Sanemi caught himself thinking of Obanai. He didn’t encourage it, himself. Hell, he’d call anyone who did the same a creep. It was hard to understand. Sanemi couldn’t understand himself. Yet he couldn’t help it when he’d immediately turn to Obanai during Hashira meetings, or let his focus wander when they spoke. It went unasked. Uncalled for, really.

Despite his constant turmoil surrounding Obanai, it took weeks—a few months, actually—for Sanemi to recognize what this was. And, when he did place a word on it, he wished he’d never figured it out. Because Sanemi was in love. Sanemi Shinazugawa in-fucking-love with his best friend. Of all people. Had he forsaken every promise to not indulge in such things, lest he wanted to deal with the consequences? What the fuck, Sanemi. Get your fucking grip.

Even so, he made no move to stop it. It was stupid, full of idiotic hope of a man long lost in the mere chance he could milk anything from this fucked situation. But Sanemi couldn’t help it. He loved Obanai. Wishing that his feelings were reciprocated was going to happen one way or another.

At least he prided himself in not making a move. That would be truly idiotic. Only a dumbass would let himself into a relationship, whilst being a Hashira, and knowing full well how getting close to anyone had turned out before. Right?

Wrong. God, fucking fuck, Sanemi! What the hell had gotten into him? Flirting with Obanai—subtly, so subtly. And then dropping everything that screamed in him to be inconspicuous and flat out asking—“Wanna go out?”

Stupid, stupid, idiot, dumbass, Sanemi, you little shit, you little prick. But the words had already come out, were already in the air. To Obanai’s credit, he didn’t look completely aghast. No. But he did look shocked, eyes wide although not judging. It was hard to tell with that wrap of bandages on him, but it seemed like Obanai’s cheeks were flushed. He ducked his head away, stammering a response.

“What… do you mean from that?” he mumbled, probably hoping Sanemi was joking.

He wasn’t, unfortunately. Although everyone could hope and dream, Sanemi included.

“Uhm. Shit, uh, no, uhm.” Wow, Sanemi was pathetic. Even after he’d gone and asked Obanai out, he couldn’t clarify what he’d meant. Even after the months of agonizing and thinking this very conversation through, all he could muster was ‘uhm.’ “Uhh. Fuck.”

Obanai cocked his head at him, now a bit more puzzled than anything. “Shinazugawa?”

Ah, fuck. And there he went. Melting Sanemi into a puddle with those wide, heterochromic eyes. “‘s nothing. Sorry,” Sanemi muttered, looking away.

“What did you mean?” Obanai pressed.

“It’s really nothing. I didn’t mean to say it.” Stop. Fucking. Talking. Sanemi.

Obanai’s eyes narrowed. Ahhh, and he still possessed his ability to read right through Sanemi’s lies. Just great. “Uh huh. Well, what did you mean, even if you take it back now?” he asked.

There was no reason for Obanai’s insistence to be so endearing. Yet it was, and Sanemi was a sucker for it all. “Uhm. Just. On a date. Go out, as in dating,” he managed, eyes avoiding the only man he would look at. “It’s stupid.”

“Do you… take it back?”

Sanemi couldn’t see his face, and it was hard to discern his voice. But he shook his head anyway, because transparency was—wait was there a phrase for that? Transparency was humiliating, at the very least.

“No. I mean, like. It was meant for you. But not for now,” he mumbled stupidly.

“Oh.”

‘Oh’? What the hell did that mean?

“Is that a no,” Sanemi said flatly. Less of a question, more of a grim acceptance that Obanai thought he was completely and utterly disgusting.

“No.”

“Huh?”

He looked up. Obanai stared at him, a bit timidly. But he gazed at him with determination that read that he was not going to let Sanemi stand there and make a fool of himself.

“I mean,” Obanai clarified, “that we can ‘go out.’ On a date. Or as in dating. Your choice.”

The way he threw it out there so easily. As if it hadn’t caused Sanemi so much fucking anxiety.

“Really?”

“Yes. Are you daft, Shinazugawa? Have you slept recently? This isn’t a dream,” Obanai said impatiently. Like he was reading Sanemi’s mind. “I said yes. I don’t care if we’ll both regret this later”—which they likely would—“there’s no time like the present, right?”

Sanemi nodded slowly. Half relieved and half full of even more panic. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. Neither of them were. But Obanai was right. No time like the present.

“Y…yeah. Then, what? We just fuck around and let things happen?” Sanemi said, a bit in his own world.

Obanai nodded. He seemed to be smiling. Kaburamaru was equally in a good mood, nuzzling Obanai’s cheek. “Exactly.”

Reluctantly, and then embracingly, Sanemi let a grin rise on his face. “Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “Fuck, finally.”

“Mm?” Obanai’s smile was loud through his words. God, fuck, he was the best. “Been waiting?”

“So fucking long.”

“Then the feeling’s mutual. I’ll see you tomorrow, Shinazugawa,” Obanai said lightly. He would be back tomorrow. God, fuck, yes.