Warm smiles and kisses - Matchablossom fanfics

Warm smiles and kisses

Cover image by @ mi_kadayo

This is fanfiction for Sk8 the Infinity. I do not own the characters, I just made up the story.

***

Kojiro smiles that warm, indulgent smile that Kaoru must have seen at least a hundred times this past week. It was there when he wheeled his carry-on suitcase out into the large arrivals hall of the airport at an ungodly early hour and was spotted immediately by his childhood friend. It was there when Kojiro navigated them through the city that had yet to wake up properly, hopping from train to bus and onto another bus easily, steering the suitcase with one hand and a sleep deprived Kaoru with the other. It was there when he made him a quick breakfast in his tiny apartment and it was there when Kaoro woke up in Kojiro's bed a few hours later, feeling less like lost luggage and more like an actual person again. It was there when Kojiro showed him the restaurant where he was working, or training, as his friend reminded him. It was there when they explored the city centre, with its seemingly ancient architecture and narrow, winding streets. It was there when Kaoru put his feet to soak in the tub, sore from walking all day over cobblestones. It was there when Kojiro made Kaoru try real Italian gelato, warning him that he would be ruined forever after eating it. It didn't matter. Kaoru was already ruined. He didn't want anything else. Or anyone else. It had hurt when Kojiro left Okinawa for Italy, to train with the masters of Italian cuisine. It hurt every time there was a new email waiting for him in his inbox, the name Nanjo Kojiro standing out between the newsletters and chain mail that Kaoru never could seem to get rid of for long. It hurt to go skating at S without Joe. It hurt even more to go skating down the pier without Kojiro. Getting off that plane and seeing that mop of green hair above an obnoxiously loud shirt that was only halfway buttoned was a sweet kind of hurt. And now he was about to leave it felt like his heart was breaking in two.

"I hope you can sleep a bit on the plane this time," Kojiro says as they slowly head towards customs, the place where they'll have to part ways. His hand is on the back of Kaoru's shoulder and it may very well be the only thing that makes Kaoru keep moving forward. "Is someone picking you up when you land? You'll be arriving close to midnight, you'll miss the last train to the city."

"Taxi," Kaoru mumbles, dazedly staring at the line of people that are getting through customs one by one. Even though it's late in the evening, there's quite a number of people filing through. He knows he'll have to join them soon, though he has a strong aversion to doing so, the feeling settling low and sour in his gut.

Kojiro makes a quiet unhappy sound, yet doesn't comment otherwise. His hand grips Kaoru's shoulder to stop their walk and stays there, a searing presence through the thin cotton of Kaoru's T-shirt. His oversized hoodie is wrapped around the handle of his suitcase. It's actually Kojiro's hoodie, or it used to be over a year ago. He wore it on his trip over here too. His friend recognised it when he got off the plane, but said nothing. The hoodie has long since stopped smelling like Kojiro, yet Kaoru continues to take comfort from it. He knows he'll wrap himself inside it when he's on the plane, hiding his face inside the hood and rubbing the slightly fraying cuffs between his fingers. He also knows the familiar comfort won't be enough this time to soothe the ache in his chest.

Kaoru has missed some of Kojiro's words as he's startled out of his mental churnings by Kojiro's arms wrapping around his shoulders for a firm hug. "... loved having you here," Kojiro says, his mouth moving against the pink strands that escaped the low ponytail. And while Kaoru's mind stumbles on the word that matches the feeling in his chest so well, his childhood friend continues to rip into the carefully concealed feelings Kauro's been harbouring for way too long. "I'll miss you, pinky."

The unexpected hug traps Kaoru's arms between them, where he now clenches Kojiro's shirt in his fist for lack of a proper verbal response. The green haired man still smells a bit like the carbonara he made Kaoru earlier that evening, claiming he wanted to make him his favourite as a proper ending of their vacation week together. To Kaoru it tasted like his last supper and he had to uncomfortably swallow the first few bites before the lump in his throat was finally gone. He's unable to put the thoughts that are swirling through his mind into words, but Kojiro has always been able to read between the lines when it comes to Kaoru. His arms tighten just a little bit, letting Kaoru know he understands what isn't said.