Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved)

Chapter Twenty One: Purely Physical

Keiji feels like a fucking idiot.

Bokuto can probably tell that something is wrong, but for the most part, Keiji thinks he does a pretty good job at hiding his panic. It helps that end of term exams are next week and they're both swamped with studying. He can explain his strange behavior away as stress over finals instead of admitting that he's having a meltdown because he discovered he's in love with his roommate.

How long has he been like this? Keiji can pinpoint the moment he realized, but he can't figure out when it actually happened. Was it that night they confessed that they'd never been closer to anyone else? The Halloween party when Keiji wanted to be the only one who got to touch Bokuto? Or the night Bokuto saved him from the edge of an anxiety attack with an understanding smile and a plate of warm food? Or maybe Keiji fell in love before their arrangement even started, when he learned that Bokuto had been making coffee every morning just for him.

Or maybe it was none of those. Maybe it was one of the hundreds of other moments in between. There's been so many. Keiji couldn't catalogue them all if he tried.

Fuck. Keiji is so fucked.

Maybe he was in denial before. Maybe that was excusable. But now he knows. Now he's very aware of his feelings for Bokuto. Now it's like he's lying every time they touch, because he remembers, months ago, Bokuto said he trusted Keiji because you won't pretend to like me more than you do.

But here he is, pretending to like him less than he does. And isn't that just as deceptive? Would Bokuto still go along with their arrangement if he knew the truth of Keiji's feelings? Or would that complicate things to the point that they'd have to end this?

Keiji doesn't want to end this. But he's not sure how to keep going now that he knows.

Because, okay, he has these feelings-but what the fuck is he supposed to do with them? A relationship still wouldn't work. Keiji is still bad at them. That's still something he doesn't get to have. And Bokuto still doesn't want one. Even if by some chance he did feel the same way-which he might, maybe, sometimes when they're kissing Keiji thinks it's possible-but emotions aside, they still have an expiration date.

Bokuto is going to graduate in a year and go off to play pro, touring the country and traveling around the world and having an illustrious career under the public eye. Bokuto's priority will always be volleyball. There's no place for Keiji in his future.

So Keiji can't burden him with his feelings. He won't. He'll just... handle his emotions on his own. He'll repress, he'll endure, he won't let anything show.

And Bokuto never has to know.

It's easier that way.

Though maybe not easier for Keiji. The days following his realization are a special brand of torture.

He's so much more attuned to the easy affection Bokuto is always giving him, and it makes him feel like he's somehow tricking Bokuto, misleading him. Contrasting desires tear Keiji in opposite directions-he wants to lean in, he wants to respond in kind; but he doesn't think he deserves to, so he also wants to pull away.

His selfish side wins; he doesn't pull away. He's simply not that strong. He hates himself a little for it.

On Sunday evening they're cuddled on the couch together watching a movie. Well, Bokuto is watching. Keiji is distracted by the way Bokuto is wrapped around him, face nuzzling his neck, their fingers laced together. It's comfortable, and sweet, and oh so familiar. It's also ridiculous, because now that Keiji thinks about it, it's not even like they're dating-it's more like they skipped dating entirely and went straight to being fucking married and stupidly in love.