When They Realized (GenMui)

15

Muichiro miserably buried his face into the soft embrace of his duvet, the fabric muffling the groan of embarrassment that escaped his lips. His cheeks were aflame, a deep, vivid red that only seemed to intensify with every passing second. His thoughts were a tangled mess, emotions surging through him in an overwhelming tide. He wanted to shriek, to shout, but all he could manage was a silent scream into the sheets, letting his mind replay the scene that had just unfolded.

What had he done? What had he seen?

The image of Genya’s toned, shirtless body, bathed in the morning light, replayed itself over and over in Muichiro’s mind like a relentless echo. His tan skin, the way his muscles moved as he reached for something on the dresser—every detail was etched into Muichiro’s thoughts with startling clarity. It wasn’t just the sight of Genya’s body that had thrown him into this state of flustered confusion, though. No, it was the way he’d acted, the way he’d frozen when Genya had turned around, their eyes locking in a moment that felt both too long and too short.

Muichiro squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the memories away, but that only seemed to make them more vivid. His face was still hot, the embarrassment spreading from his cheeks down to his neck. The way his stomach had flipped when their gazes met. The way his heart had raced as if it were trying to leap out of his chest… all of it was so new, so intense, and so incredibly embarrassing. What must Genya think of him now?

He groaned again, this time pulling at his hair in frustration, the strands slipping through his fingers as he tried to focus on anything other than the feel of Genya’s eyes on him. It wasn’t just the awkwardness of the encounter that had him so worked up; it was the realization of just how much he’d been affected by it. The way his body had reacted—the tightening of his shoulders, the quickening of his breath, the flush that refused to leave his face—was all too telling. And all too confusing.

“Why am I like this?” he whispered to himself, tugging at a particularly stubborn lock of hair. Every time he thought he was getting a handle on his feelings, something happened to throw him off balance again. He’d never felt like this before—never so out of control, so vulnerable. He didn’t know how to deal with it, and that only made the embarrassment worse.

As he lay there, his mind spinning in circles, the door to his room creaked open, and Muichiro felt a presence step inside.

“Muichiro, have you seen my—” Yuichiro’s voice trailed off, and Muichiro finally lifted his head, peeking out from the cocoon of his duvet. Yuichiro was standing in the doorway, one eyebrow arched in a mixture of both concern and intrigue as he took in the sight of his blatantly flustered brother.

Muichiro’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly averted his gaze, hastily facing his bedroom window with an intentional avoidance. But it was too late—Yuichiro had already seen the telltale signs of his distress.

“What’s going on with you?” Yuichiro asked, stepping further into the room. His tone was light, but there was a note of suspicion there as well. “You look like you’ve been running laps or something. Did you just get back from a jog?”

Muichiro shook his head, his gaze still averted the opposite way. Yuichiro frowned, clearly puzzled. “You’re not sweating… so what, did you burn your face or something?” He glanced around as if searching for an explanation, but nothing seemed to fit. And then, as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, Yuichiro’s eyes widened in realization. He’d remembered seeing Muichiro and Genya heading upstairs together not too long ago. There was no doubt he'd always suspected something from the very beginning.

“You and Genya… You two went upstairs together, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and intrigue. He moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied Muichiro’s flustered state. “What happened with you and Genya?”