#garegi

[poefucker]

Ugghhhh, I can't decide D: Ummm. Yoreki and ummmm 18. Or 9? You decide (Both would be great too ;D)

9. “War’s End” kiss; 18. Surprised kiss

He’s falling. The world is dissolving around him, strands of grass and leaves being torn away into the sky that’s rapidly changing from too-bright blue to a darkness without even the light of a star.

Gareki almost laughs – if he’d been able to breathe anyway.

Instead he falls and falls and falls until he’s sure he’s nothing. It figures.

And that’s the end of it.

          Arms catch him. Gareki can finally breathe. Quick, shallow bursts of hot air brush past the shell of his ear, chapped lips brushing his skin.

He presses his eyes shut, not wanting to turn around and see that this is only another illusion. It figured the afterlife would be cruel, but Gareki isn’t sure he’d be able to face the reality of that. And besides, if this isn’t a trick – like that false world the other Karoku was so fond of creating – then that means everyone else is dead and in the afterlife with him. It means that he failed.

So he just breathes in, smelling home and the closest thing to happy he could remember, and tries to not think too deeply.

Sound finally filters through – garekigarekigareki-kungarekisaysomethinggareki-kungarekipleasegareki – and then it’s flooding through, loud and raucous and agonizing. He groans, curling around himself, hands coming up to block the noise. The next time he breathes, he smells blood and dirt, not just soap, clean sweat, and that faint something floral. Gareki stiffens. Maybe—

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

Charred earth, ripped black wool with a ridiculous green cuff, and a well-worn  leather bracelet.

Maybe this is real.

Yogi is hovering over him, arms still tight around Gareki’s shoulders and eyes glassy with tear tracks running down his battle-smudged face.

“Gareki?“ He asks, like he’s afraid of the answer.

Gareki blinks at him. Then his lips twitch into a weak smile.

“It’s over,“ he answers.

Yogi smiles so bright that Gareki can’t help but grin back, even if it pulls at his cut lip. Soon they’re both giggling like idiots, arms wound tight around each other, lips pressing to cheeks and noses and eyebrows and scraped foreheads.

And that’s the end of it. Really.

[poefucker]

Basorexia - an overwhelming desire to kiss. Yoreki, ofc.

ofc

“You—You’re not mad are you?“ Yogi fiddled with the hem of his jacket, darting nervous glances at him from under an windswept mop of hair. “Gareki-kun?“

Gareki slid his fingertips across the leather bound book in front of him. It was a simple thing, a heavy thing, with thick, sticky pages riddled with notes and memories and photos.

A thoughtful thing. Which is something that always took Gareki by surprise, Yogi being this painfully thoughtful. It shouldn’t really. That was a key component of Yogi’s personality, thinking about other people and how to make them happy.

But it still surprised him.

Gareki flicked his eyes up to meet Yogi’s – worried and just a little too anxious. Gareki pushed down on the urge to snort and roll his eyes. It’s not like he was going to start a fight because Yogi gave him a gift. His focus narrowed down to the bit of bottom lip Yogi had caught between his teeth. The opposite really.

“It’s a scrapbook,“ he said at last.

Yogi nodded. Nodded so much it was a wonder his head didn’t just bobble off. Gareki pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Yeah! Just things from when you came to the Second Ship – it’s been five years now, you know? That’s a long time, and so much happened, and I thought it might be nice to have—to have something to look at every now and then. I had some help from your old classmates plus there’s some stuff in there from Tsubame. I tried not to put too much Nyanperona in it since you always call him a shitty cat even though he’s not and he protects children’s dreams but I think you get that even if you say you don’t—Gareki-kun, why are you laughing at me?“

He put his hands on his hips and was probably trying his best to glare at Gareki for the bubble of laughter he couldn’t hold back at Yogi’s babbling.

It was just so incredibly sweet, so thoughtful, so Yogi, and Gareki was touched that put so much care into this, but didn’t really know how to react to any of it. So he laughed. It was a better reaction than he would have had five years ago at least, when he would have said something biting or called it disgusting or punched someone for daring to show any interest in his well-being. Gareki took a small comfort in the fact that he was slightly less shitty than he used to be. Maturity, or something.

Gareki’s snickering quieted down, but Yogi kept pouting aggressively at him.

“So mean, Gareki-kun,“ he grumbled, bottom lip sticking out even further.

And Gareki couldn’t help it. He just rocked up onto his toes to press a kiss to that silly pout. There was a split second of Yogi’s stubbornly holding out, making Gareki lean up against him just a little more, sandwiching the scrapbook and his arms between them. And then—then Yogi’s fingertips carefully held the sides of his face to keep him there a little longer.

Sweet and warm and a little too cautious, just like always. As much as Gareki liked to find the ragged, desperate edges of Yogi, knowing that Yogi’s kisses always start like this is a comfort better than almost anything else. He sighed, and Yogi pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes.

“You like it then,“ he asked lowly.

Gareki licked his lips, teeth catching on his bottom lip for a second, and didn’t miss the way Yogi’s eyes flitted down to watch. He hummed his approval and shifted a little closer.

“You really do? You’re not just—“ Yogi pulled his face back again just as Gareki was about to kiss him again “—trying to distract me?“

Gareki tutted at him, still trying to inch forward. “Yeah, I really do. Now come here.“

“I’m so glad,“ Yogi beamed, ignoring the frustrated noise Gareki made. “I’m so glad, I wanted you to like it so bad, but I thought you might get mad at me for being nosy or say something like ‘I don’t need something this stuuuupid’ or—“

“Yogi.” Gareki dug his forehead into Yogi’s a little harder than necessary. “Yogi, you’re ruining the moment.“

“Oh! Oh.“ A magnificent flush colored Yogi’s face, and Gareki instantly forgave him all that nonsensical babbling. Sweet and cute and thoughtful and quintessentially Yogi. “Sorry, Gareki-kun. I just—I really love you. A lot.“

Gareki smiled at him. “I know.” He covered Yogi’s hand with his own, turning his head just enough to press a kiss to the heel of Yogi’s palm. “Me too. A lot.“

And finally, finally Yogi leans back down to kiss him properly.

[poefucker]

for the fic meme.......... uh lmao oh god "Gareki-kun, it's stuck!!" there let your imagination run wild person who now has an apartment!!!

"Gareki-kun, it's stuck!!"

Gareki knelt down next to Yogi, to take a look at the BluRay player he was complaining about. He took a loud sip from the dregs of his juicebox. "Yeah, I think Nai put cheese in it."

Yogi made a strange squawking noise.

"Just watch whatever's in there, it's bound to be loads better than that shitty cat DVD."

Another half-assed squawk which Gareki just rolled his eyes at. Yogi pressed play. He rocked back on his heels, plopping down on the carpet and waited for the menu to appear. When he heard the soundtrack, Gareki grinned widely and just waited.

[poefucker]

And When You Walk Inside the Door (i will sleepwalk no more)

summary: after the battle at kuronomei, gareki worries, even if he refuses to call it that. fandom: karneval pairing: yoreki characters: gareki, yogi, nai (briefly)

"Gareki?"

A ribbon of light from the door he'd just opened hit Nai's squinting face from the bottom bunk where he's been curled up, fast asleep with one of the ship's sheep.

"Just getting water," Gareki said after a moment. "Go back to sleep."

There was a tired murmur, and by the time Gareki stepped through the doorway, shutting the door, he's pretty sure the kid's fast asleep. He probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning. Which was good, seeing as that was a total lie—there were at least three half-empty glasses of water in that room, plus a juicebox stashed in a desk drawer. But it wasn't like Nai needed to know the reason for his insomnia. Gareki wasn't entirely sure about it himself.

Still, he slumped his way through the halls of the ship, not quite deciding to head anywhere but still managing to end up outside the door he'd meant to wind up anyway. A strip of light below it told Gareki that he's still awake. 

Good.

He let himself in without knocking, shutting the door behind him as he leaned against the doorjamb with a hand sandwiched between his back and the knob like he still wasn't sure if he wanted to be here. He took a second to let himself just look at Yogi—the idiot was struggling to put on a long sleeved shirt that had been inside out, sleeves caught awkwardly on his elbows and wrists.

Some of the jitteriness that had plagued his legs all day settled down. Gareki took a deep breath and suppressed the urge to smile.

"Ga–Gareki-kun!" Yogi nearly choked on his tongue when he spotted him as his head popped through the collar of his shirt. As he turned toward him, Gareki saw white medical tape across a few of his ribs and a still-purpling mark underneath the neat patch on his cheek. Gareki frowned.

Yogi smiled, smoothing down the hem of his shirt. "Ah, I didn't hear you come in!"

"I know."

"How are you? Are you alright?"

Gareki tilted his head, giving Yogi a measuring look. "You're asking me?"

Some of the brilliance of Yogi's smile dulled. Gareki tutted to himself, he hadn't meant to do that. "Well, you're not–not asleep. Since you're...here."

"Yeah."

"You're alright then? I'm so glad..." Yogi let out a breath like he'd been holding it, like he'd been worrying about Gareki even when he'd been up on the ship during the whole battle, like he hadn't been dead weight to be protected—Gareki stopped that train of thought before it could spiral too far away. It was something he'd been working on at school with only moderate success so far. 

Yogi smiled at him again.

"I was worried about you," he said softly, and Gareki didn't understand how he could say that without looking even remotely embarrassed. Until Yogi's eyes widened and he ducked his head to scratch his neck. "And about Nai-chan and Karoku-kun. And the sheep."

The knot in Gareki's chest loosened a little more. He snorted, rolled his eyes. "Idiot. I—we were on the ship."

Yogi chuckled awkwardly. "I know, stupid of me, huh?"

This sort of thing was still new to them. This thing where it was okay to want to just walk up to Yogi and put his hands on him, where it was okay to say what he actually felt about something. Where he didn't have to have everything handled, under control. Where it was okay to say Gareki had been worried, too. All he'd been able to do is watch everyone fight for their lives from the ship's monitors. It had been a long time since Gareki had allowed himself to consciously care about people, so he was a little rusty at how to go about it.

"Gareki-kun." Yogi's voice was light and soft and all the anxiousness unwound itself a little more as fingertips brushed gently through his hair. Gareki didn't remember telling himself to move forward, but somehow he was close enough to Yogi to hear him breath and the warmth of his presence.

"Yogi," he murmured back, not looking up at him, focusing instead on his collarbone. "You—What about you?"

"Eh? Me?" Yogi spluttered, flushing a bright red that Gareki could feel echoed on his own face. Gareki furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm—I'm fine!"

"I wouldn't call a black eye 'fine.'"

"You think it'll bruise that high—"

"Or the taped ribs."

"—Ryoushi-sensei didn't—" Yogi stopped mid-babble and gave Gareki a suspicious look. "Wait a minute, just how long were you in here, Gareki-kun?"

Gareki smirked at him, tilting his head back a little to meet Yogi's eyes. "Long enough."

Yogi made an affronted noise like he'd swallowed a Nyanperona cell phone strap.

Gareki grinned a little too sharp to be innocent, making Yogi flush darker to the tips of his hair. Yogi whimpered weakly. Maybe Gareki could have corrected him, told him that, for once, Gareki hadn't been ogling him to see just how long it'd take to get him out of those clothes again. But he didn't.

He liked making Yogi look like his brain had short-circuited. It was such a novel feeling to know that he was capable of making Yogi's train of thought stutter to a standstill with just a look or well-timed comment. Gareki could rarely pass up any opportunity to do it.

Taking half a step forward, Gareki carefully kissed the collarbone he'd been looking at so much. He lingered, feeling the change in Yogi's breathing and the way his pulse fluttered under his hand like some trapped bird flapping around unsteadily. He kissed his skin again, hand sliding up to rest on the other side of Yogi's neck.

"I—I'm glad, too." Gareki said, keeping his face tucked into Yogi's shoulder. It was easier this way, without Yogi's eyes shining down at him or getting all glassy like he was going to cry or something. "That you're okay."

Arms wrapped around him, broad hands warm against his shoulder blades through his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Yogi sniffed loudly before digging his nose into Gareki's hair. Gareki resisted the urge to roll his eyes because of course Yogi would cry at that. He heard a muffled "thank you" as Yogi pressed his lips against Gareki's temple, causing him to flush again. He felt something hot drip onto his forehead.

"Honestly." Gareki couldn't help himself.

"I can't help it!" Yogi said, voice thick. "That's just so sweet, Gareki-kun!"

He tried to give Yogi a baleful glare. It wound up weaker than he'd intended because Yogi just pouted at him, probably doing his level best to return the glare.

Except it was ruined when Yogi yawned, jaw cracking and huge. Then he just stuck his lip out—completely disappointed with himself Gareki was sure.

Clenching his jaw, Gareki ignored the almost overwhelming urge to yawn back.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," he tutted at Yogi.

Yogi flopped on top of the covers, wincing at jostling his ribs and whatever else was scuffed up. He pulled Gareki after him. And Gareki didn't really see the point in fighting it because he was exhausted, too. So he curled up against him, legs tangled together and content. 

After a few moments, the lights dimmed automatically. The slowing rhythm of Yogi's breaths lulled him to somewhere between awake and asleep. Yogi rolled over to hang an arm over Gareki's waist and dig his nose into his hair again. 

"It was sweet."

"Oh, shut up."

[poefucker]

✿

7: firm kiss

"What do I do—Oh, man, I can't do this—What were they thinking—There has to be a mistake—What do I do?—" Yogi kept mumbling to himself, shaking his head every now and then. Gareki handed him a paper bag and told him to breathe.

Yogi tried. Gareki would give him that. He tried to breathe through the paper bag, making the thing crackle loudly as it inflated and deflated. He tried to calm down, really. But Gareki noticed his knuckles clenched white around the edge of the table and the around the bag. How his eyes couldn't seem to blink properly. And the way he kept rocking back and forth, just a little, just enough to make the leg of the table squeak.

All because the big wigs tried to promote him.

Sheesh.

Gareki slouched against the edge of the table, digging his shoulder into Yogi's. Physical contact usually helped to ground him.

"Yogi."

"—I don't even like fighting!—Why would they—Are they nuts?—I can't be a captain of a whole ship!—This is—I don't even know—"

"Yogi."

Still nothing, Yogi just kept rambling. And really, if Gareki wasn't more worried about Yogi losing it, he'd probably be pretty pissed at him. As one of his primary physicians, Gareki understood all too well that Yogi's mental state was tenuous at best. And as his boyfriend, well, seeing Yogi freaking out freaked him out. Which was probably why he should recuse himself from the first bit, but Gareki's never really cared for the ethics of things. He pushed that thought back, swallowing down his own bubble of hysteria. Think about that sort of shit later, right now he needed to fix this.

"Yogi."

Options. Right. There were options. Traditional medicine recommended sedation. Home medicine was the paper bag. Prior experience told him to snap him out of it.

Sedation, Gareki decided, was not a viable solution. It just delayed and prolonged the current situation. So that left some sort of action to re-wire Yogi's thought processes.

He could...suck his dick (what the hell, brain), slap him (possibility), snap in his face (unlikely).

"Yo—gi."

It would be unfair to slap him. Nothing else really seemed viable, though. Gareki clicked his tongue. Then what could he do—

Gareki realized that somewhere between nudging his shoulder, his hand had snuck itself under Yogi's shirt to rub circles in the small of his back. That Yogi was leaning on him, but still staring glassily at the wall. He was quiet, though, just sniffling here and there.

His chest felt tight, too small, like maybe his whole ribcage would crack open looking at Yogi's expression.

He kissed the corner of his mouth, lightly, before adjusting to press their lips together more firmly. Gareki would do anything to take that haunted look off Yogi's face, and maybe that wasn't something he could quite articulate, but hopefully Yogi could feel the sentiment. Hopefully it'd be enough to drag Yogi back to him from whatever mental cave he'd locked himself into.

It took a long moment before he felt Yogi soften, felt his eyelashes wet against his cheeks.

"Gareki-kun," Yogi whispered, pulling away, still with a frightened expression, but he was at least present. He blinked at him. Then he tucked his head under Gareki's chin. "Sorry, Gareki-kun. I'm just—"

"Scared."

"...Yeah."

"It's a big job."

"Yeah."

Gareki pushed his hand through Yogi's messy hair, chewing on a thought, not sure how to say it. "I think—For whatever worth my opinion is—"

"It's important!"

"Shut up, I'm trying to say something." Gareki tugged at his hair just a little bit, and he thought he maybe felt Yogi try to laugh a little. Good. Trying was good. "Anyway. You'd be good at it. Captaining."

Yogi's arms tightened around him even as he dug his nose deeper into the hollow under Gareki's ear.

"I mean, that shitty, four-eyed guy picked you himself, right?" Gareki was sure of it this time, the little giggle that vibrated out of Yogi's chest. "And besides, you can still tell them all to fuck off."

"Then I'd be demoted."

Gareki clicked his tongue. "Oh damn. How tragic."

"Gareki-kun."

"I like that last one though. 'Fuck everyone, I quit. See you never.'"

"Gareki-kun."

"But, you know. Whatever."

They stayed quiet for a while. Gareki played with Yogi's hair, rolling the ends around his fingers and pushing it every which way. He was just glad the whuff of hot air against his neck was steady and deep. That the heartbeat that'd been pounding so hard he could hear it without a stethoscope had calmed to something closer to normal. Yogi shifted, tilting his head back enough to see Gareki.

"Thank you, Gareki-kun."

"Mm."

"I love you."

"Mm, yeah, I know." Gareki pressed their foreheads together. "Me too."

[poefucker]

✿

11: gentle kiss

Also Hirato had already told him what the letter said (Yogi still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to hold onto that secret for a whole two days).

He bounced on his toes a little. Rung his hands a little. “Gareki-kun, you should open it!”

Gareki glanced up at him, eyebrows furrowing for a second before a slow smirk raised them.

"You know what’s in here, don’t you." It wasn’t really a question, not like that. He poked Yogi in the chest with a corner of the envelope. "That’s awfully sneaky of you."

A nervous pop of laughter bubbled up Yogi’s throat. Gareki’s smirk just widened.

"Aren’t you gonna tell me?"

Yogi spluttered. “Ah, well, I just—I hate to-to be the bearer of bad news, Gareki-kun.”

"Oh yeah?" Gareki poked him again, stepping closer. "You wouldn’t be this excited for me to open a damn envelope if it was bad news.”

He was doing that thing that Gareki does, where he had a mean smile and an amused glint in his eyes that always confused Yogi. Gareki might be messing with him (he likes to do that) or maybe Gareki was actually annoyed with him. Yogi would probably be pretty annoyed if Gareki knew something this important. 

Yogi tried to keep a straight face, giving Gareki a poke of his own. “I happen to be an actor.”

Gareki snorted. 

"So mean, Gareki-kun."

And Gareki laughed—not an amused huff or some sarcastic ghost of the thing, an actual laugh. Yogi smiled, extremely pleased with himself. Not every day that Gareki would smile like that let alone laugh. Definitely a victory.

Yogi was too busy patting himself on the back to notice Gareki closing that last half step between them to lean up to kiss him. Luckily Yogi’s pretty quick at catching on to that sort of thing. And kissing Gareki with the last dregs of laughter still caught in his throat was probably the sweetest thing Yogi had ever tasted.

He sighed happily. 

After a moment, Gareki pulled back a little, a smile still tucked in the corner of his lips. It was all Yogi could do to not dip down to kiss him again. Kissing Gareki was his favorite thing to do, after all.

"So it’s bad news, huh?" Gareki murmured.

"Mm, the worst." Yogi nodded. "See, you failed a course—A very important one!—about…being nice to your patients!"

"I failed my bedside manner course? I don’t even remember that one."

"That’s probably why you failed."

Gareki laughed again. “Probably.”

[poefucker]

Petulant

summary: gareki has to wait out in the hall while hirato and the kuronomei headmaster talk fandom: karneval pairing: yoreki characters: gareki, yogi, hirato, sesiri

"Somehow, I'm not surprised, Gareki."

This whole ordeal was overkill. It's not like he'd been in a real fight, this was just some dipshit sporting a black eye. Really, the kid could have ducked. And really, there was no reason to go crying to the campus medical staff over a bruise. To think that idiot thought he could be a Circus combatant.

The thing that chafed the most, though, was the fact that Hirato had even been called. The headmaster kept going on and on about a parent-teacher conference and how it was protocol for incidents like this. It had been all Gareki could do to not flat up tell the guy that was a load of horse shit, the only thing that needed doing was giving the kid a swift kick in the ass, and that had been taken care of, thanks very much. He'd learned over the past months that words like that didn't really fly in an academic setting. In any setting where there were Adults and Children (invariably, Gareki was always deemed a Child).

Gareki clicked his tongue again.

Whatever. He didn't regret his bruised knuckles, and Gareki figured he only would if this one tiny infraction ended up with him expelled. He hated having to rely on Hirato's clout and silver tongue, but in this case, it was his only choice.

"Ah—" Gareki didn't even have time to dive out of the way bore he was caught up in a bone-crushing hug. "Gareki-kun!"

Gareki grunted. He couldn't breathe, and he was pretty sure Yogi might have just cracked one of his ribs.

Yogi squeezed him tighter for a second, dug his nose into Gareki's neck, taking a deep breath. If Gareki wasn't seeing spots from lack of oxygen, he'd understand.

"It's been so long," he whispered. 

Gareki made a choked noise, hitting Yogi's shoulder with his palm, and finally, Yogi relaxed a little and Gareki could breathe again.

"Jeez," Gareki coughed out. 

Yogi pulled his head back and gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Gareki-kun, I got a little carried away!"

Somehow Gareki couldn't really find it in himself to be angry. He did, however, manage to grumble out a no kidding. Which Yogi just took as permission to hug him again. Gareki gave an exaggerated sigh, but let himself lean against Yogi, arms carefully looping around Yogi's shoulders (because where else could they go).

"I missed you," Yogi murmured, breath flaring across Gareki's ear. "I missed you so much, Gareki-kun."

"Yeah," Gareki replied. It was nice, the weight of Yogi's chest against his, the warmth of the palms on his back, the smell of soap and candy and roses. It was really nice. Gareki tried not to be too obvious as he nudged his nose a little closer to Yogi's head. The boat had already sailed on that, though, what with how his fingers had already tangled themselves in Yogi's hair. He didn't even remember doing that.

Maybe, maybe if they weren't standing in the hallway, right next to the headmaster's office, maybe he'd kiss him. It had been a long time, if six months counted as a long time to go without seeing his boyfriend.

A sniffle, then two, and even a tremble. Gareki clicked his tongue. What a crybaby, honestly.

Yogi pulled his head back again to give him a watery glare. Probably would have been more effective if it were anyone but Yogi. Gareki wondered if maybe he'd said something out loud—

"Of cour—I missed you, Gareki-kun, of course I'm—anyone would cry."

Definitely then. Whoops.

Yogi pouted at him, sniffing indignantly.

And that was about when Gareki thought fuck it, I'm already in trouble.

He leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Yogi's mouth, and again to the petulant lip stuck out at him. And by then—after a half-mumble of Gareki's name—Yogi had gotten the idea.

Kissing, Gareki decided, was definitely nicer than just a hug. With the way Yogi sighed into him, sweetly, softly, and absolutely everything Gareki missed (even if he rarely admitted it). He liked the taste of his name murmured against his lips. He liked the way Yogi's arms had tightened around him again. He liked how his blood pounded in his ears, his fingertips, all the way to his toes, coiling in his gut.

Gareki couldn't help but smile as he tilted his head the other way. Almost nothing could top this feeling. And it sure as hell was a better way to spend the time waiting than by counting ceiling tiles.

He stepped closer, pushed onto his toes just a little, turning all that sentimental yearning into something harder. They needed this. It had been so long, they're both desperate for this. Gareki slipped his tongue into Yogi's mouth, and if he weren't clutching at his jaw for dear life, if Yogi's hands hadn't been tangled in the fabric of his blazer, he'd be flat on his ass from how fast his knees buckled.

Click. Silence. What the hell? Then a series of louder clicks. Another pause. A few quiet footsteps. The clicking started again.

Gareki's eyes flicked open, reluctant to move away but still pretty curious as to what that shutter sound was—

Sesiri.

Sure enough, just down the hall, right at the corner toward the front of the administrative building, a camera lens flashed menacingly at him. Goddammit.

Gareki pulled himself away and flipped her his middle finger. Yogi blinked a little blearily at him.

"Fuck off, Sesiri!"

A startled squeak, and she was gone. For now at least.

Yogi pressed his forehead to his. "Gareki-kun?" Gareki didn't say anything, still glaring over his shoulder, waiting for a telltale camera flash. Yogi let out a quiet breath before pressing a fleeting kiss to the spot of color burning high on Gareki's cheek. He stepped away. "You shouldn't talk like that in a school, Gareki-kun."

It was cold without Yogi there. Cold air, cold wall, a cold ball of frustration he had to swallow down as he clicked his tongue.

"Probably shouldn't have been kissing here, either." Yogi let out a small laugh as he fit himself against the wall, shoulder pressed to Gareki's. "We both got a little carried away, huh?"

Gareki finally pulled his eyes away from the far corner to glance at Yogi. He was smiling, rubbing at tearstains off his face with the cuff of his jacket. It was the first time Gareki noticed Yogi was wearing the official Circus duds, just without the top hat. All that dark fabric just made the rest of him shine that much brighter. The thought sent a rush of blood to his face—what an embarrassing thing to think. He turned back to watch the corner.

"What's with the get-up?"

"It's official business, coming to Kuronomei." 

"It's just school."

"No," Gareki could hear Yogi smiling wide, he could hear him just shine. Yogi hooked hooked their little fingers together.

Gareki felt himself smiling, too.

"It's you, Gareki-kun."

Gareki squeezed their intertwined fingers. "Idiot."

They stood there a little while, Yogi humming quietly to himself and Gareki giving himself a moment to bask in the feeling. It's probably the closest he's been to happy in a long time. Well, no he was pretty damn pleased when he'd aced that advance anatomy exam last week, but that was a different sort of happy. This was—the weight and warmth of Yogi beside him, how he felt a little lighter—this was different. Nicer, which was strange as he didn't think himself anything close to a nice or good person. Gareki decided he liked it though.

Yogi fell silent. Gareki looked at him from the corner of his eyes. He'd started chewing on the corner of his lip and frowning at the heather grey linoleum tiles on the floor.

"Yogi."

He blinked. "Mm, what is it, Gareki-kun."

"You're quiet."

"Oh, I guess I am," Yogi smiled, but not quite as brightly as he should have. Gareki nudged his shoulder. "I was just...thinking."

If the situation had been reversed, if Gareki had told Yogi he was the one thinking, Gareki knew there was some kids movie Yogi would parrot back at him before Gareki's mouth had even closed on the last syllable. And for a millisecond or so, it was on the tip of Gareki's tongue—

Until his brain kicked in to remind him just how fucking lame that would be.

"It's just—you've been here a while—"

"About a year, give or take."

"—and I was just...wondering, I guess. When you'd come home, I mean."

Gareki smiled a little. "My course ends in six months."

"That's so long."

"Not any longer than the last time."

"I've missed so much, I don't know if I could make it that long..."

Gareki tutted. "Don't be melodramatic."

"So mean, Gareki-kun. You probably didn't miss me at all."

Yogi was pouting again, only this time it wasn't as cute. This time it kind of made Gareki want to jab him in the kidneys a little. Of course he'd missed Yogi. He missed him so much, he couldn't sleep sometimes. Hell, Gareki could barely reply to Yogi's text messages without wanting to figure out a way to climb through his damn phone to see him again.

Gareki frowned at Yogi and turned away. Yogi had started mumbling a list of reasons why six months was too long for him to survive. Gareki clicked his tongue loudly. 

"Jesus—If it bothers you so damn much, just stay here a while!" Yogi's litany stumbled at the outburst as he blinked at Gareki. Gareki pointedly ignored the flush he felt crawling up his neck and ears. "It'll make it easier on both of us."

Yogi's face softened, and he smiled widely, brightly, and so happy Gareki was sure it was illegal. But his voice was quiet. "Gareki-kun."

He wasted no time to swoop down and kiss the top of his head at least ten times too many. Gareki scowled. He felt his whole face burning in embarrassment as he half-heartedly tried to lean himself out of Yogi's range without actually moving.

Which was of course when the door opened, nearly giving Gareki a concussion.

There was a second where Hirato just sort of stared at them blankly. He and Yogi probably made quite a sight, what with how Yogi's mouth was puckered up, making obnoxious kissy noises, and how Gareki had practically bent in half trying to avoid him. Then that smug bastard gave them both That smile, the one where Hirato's in on this private joke that's just so fucking funny. 

Yogi choked out a strangled noise. Gareki tried his damnedest to huff and act unaffected despite how red his face was.

"If you two aren't too busy, let's find somewhere to discuss what the headmaster and I agreed upon." Hirato pushed up his glasses and turned toward the corner, not bothering to check if they'd followed him.

Yogi looked at Gareki -- a little embarrassed, a little apologetic and all sorts of worried -- then he trotted after his boss. Gareki, however, waited a minute, still slouched against the wall (he would leave when he wanted to, thanks), but then he too walked after them.

And when he caught up to Yogi, Gareki slipped his hand into his.

[cutebots-moved]

gareki dont know whether to slap or kiss him tbh..........