Red, Yellow & Blue

11. I Love You, Dickhead

Kazama took a deep breath and made himself ring the bell. He felt awfully guilty about avoiding Shinchan at school, especially when he saw his multiple texts. He hadn't known how to answer without making Shinchan feel bad or worried. He felt it was better if they talked in person.

He had really wanted to spend time with him but he was terrified of people finding out. He checked the back pocket of his jeans and calmed down a little when he felt the thick papers. He cracked a smile, imagining Shinchan's expression when he would give them to him.

"Kazama! What a surprise!" Shinchan's Mom greeted him with a huge smile. Kazama gave her a polite smile back and followed her in. "You came to see Shinchan?"

When he nodded, she pressed her lips together in an apologetic smile, "Shinchan's in the washroom right now. But you can make yourself comfortable in his room. God, I really hope that boy cleaned his room like I told him to."

Kazama chuckled, guessing he probably hadn't, "It's okay. I don't mind."

Shaking her head at her son, she left, not before telling him that she'll get him something to eat. Kazama didn't know why Shinchan was always telling him that his mother was scary. She was one of the nicest people he had met.

Kazama was right. Shinchan's room was a mess with clothes, toys, junk food and inappropriate magazines strewn everywhere. He could hear water running in the attached bathroom and guessed that Shinchan was having a bath. Having nothing else to do, he decided to surprise the boy by straightening his room a bit before he got back. He tried not to pay attention to the magazines when he arranged them into order but simply knowing that they  were there made the blood rush to his face. Finally done, he plonked down upon the bed to wait. Soon after, the water stopped running and he looked up expectantly. 

Kazama's mouth hung open when he saw the boy enter with just a towel. He looked away so fast he got whiplash. How could he have been so stupid? Of course he was going to be naked! He couldn't believe his mother let him wait here knowing this was about to happen.

He was waiting for Shinchan to say something, to tease him but surprisingly it never came. "H-hey, you dressed yet?"

"Yes," the boy said and Kazama felt the other side of his bed dip as Shinchan lied down on the bed. Kazama took his word for it and risked a glance at him. He flushed almost immediately, "This isn't dressed! You have to wear a shirt too!"

"My house, my rules," he drawled and grabbed a box of chocobi from the nightstand to feast on.

Kazama tried his best not to stare at his tanned, lean abdomen and forced his gaze to the bedsheet between them. When the uncomfortable silence between them stretched too long, Shinchan finally decided to break it, though his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling in a glare, "Why are you on my bed?"

Kazama let out a chuckle at the odd question and teased, once again feeling that rare bout of confidence he had felt when he had earlier offered him tea and then again when he had kissed him, "Am I not allowed to be in your bed?"

Shinchan rolled his eyes at the ceiling but didn't answer the question, "Can you go away? I'm busy."

Kazama blinked, hurt by the blunt request, "You are literally glaring at the ceiling while eating chocobi."

"See? I'm doing two things at the same time," he popped another one into his mouth and his voice came out muffled when he said, "hence the busyness."

"Right. So busy," Kazama muttered under his breath. This wasn't going as he had hoped for at all.

"What?" Shinchan sat up straighter and snapped, finally looking at him, "So you can be busy whenever I want to see you but I can't?"

Kazama stared, taken aback by surprise. He had never heard him sound so hurt. His beautiful dark eyes that always sparkled with amusement now shone with hurt and anger. To know that it was directed at him felt like a punch to the gut. He definitely deserved it. All he had been was a coward. He couldn't even work up the courage to accept the truth about himself. "I'm so sorry. I was just—" he broke off, desperately out of the words he needed to make this right.