Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved)

Chapter Twenty Three: The Best Way To Go

Keiji wakes to the sound of the apartment door opening. He groggily sits up, rubbing at his eyes and glancing at the clock on his phone. It's still morning; he only fell asleep for an hour or so. He listens to Bokuto kick off his shoes in the genkan and shuffle down the hall.

He's here. It's time.

Heart pounding in his chest, Keiji climbs out of bed and leaves his room.

Bokuto freezes in the middle of their living room, inhaling sharply when he sees Keiji. He looks almost frightened, with dark circles under his eyes and his body slumped like he doesn't have the energy to stand up straight. For a moment they just stare at one another, then Keiji breaks the silence.

"Hi," he says quietly.

"I thought you'd be at work right now," Bokuto replies.

Keiji winces. He knew Bokuto was avoiding him, but still. "Konoha-san sent me home."

"Oh," Bokuto says, and his eyes fall from Keiji's face to the hoodie he's wearing. Shit. He should have taken it off before leaving his room. Bokuto pointedly looks away, and Keiji shifts awkwardly, feeling supremely vulnerable.

"Can we talk?" he asks, fighting through his discomfort.

"About what?" Bokuto asks dully.

"You're avoiding me."

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?"

"You know why."

"I don't," Keiji says. "I need you to tell me."

For a long moment he is silent, then he drops himself onto the couch and lets out a defeated sigh. "Because this is over."

He says it with such blunt finality that Keiji's heart clenches. "I don't want it to be."

Bokuto scoffs. "Yeah, well you're not the only one who gets to make that decision."

And he's right. It's really that fucking simple, isn't it? Still, Keiji can't help but press, "But why?"

Another sigh that sounds like giving up. "Come on, Kaashi. Even you gotta know why being friends with benefits never fucking works out in the end. Someone always ends up wanting more than the other and it ruins everything."

He knows. Keiji's breath catches; he feels exposed, stripped bare. Bokuto knows about his feelings, and Keiji's voice is so small as he whispers. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Bokuto mutters.

"I tried to stop."

"Well, we're stopping now, so."

"I don't want to," Keiji protests, helplessly, stubbornly.

"I don't care!" Bokuto exclaims, almost rising up from the couch. But then it's like he deflates, sinking lower into the cushions as he echoes in a quieter voice, "I don't care." He clenches his fists in his lap. "I can't-I can't stop loving you, but I can stop letting you break my heart over and over again."

The words crash into him like a wave. Keiji stops breathing.

"You-" He swallows thickly. His voice is barely a whisper. "You love me?"

Hope starts to unfurl inside of him, foreign and dangerous and fragile.

Can he have this? Is he allowed to have this?

"I'm sorry," Bokuto says, voice cracking. "I didn't tell you before 'cause I knew you would end it, and I thought having you like this was better than not having you at all. And sometimes when you were touching me... for a while I thought you felt the same. But then after that night we-" his words choke off.