"Why am I not drunk?"
"You are," Keigo told the man sitting on the couch across him.
"No. I haven't passed out. Doesn't count."
Keigo rolled his eyes and helpfully poured another glass for Takumi. They were currently in Takumi's well-appointed apartment, with the sole purpose of getting Takumi smashed.
It began as a casual drink at a bar. Keigo had suspected that Takumi was not his usual self but a message on Takumi's phone halfway through their catch-up triggered something.
At least he had the sense to do this at home, away from any prying cameras.
"You aren't asking questions," Takumi accused, taking another swig of the very nice whiskey.
"You can tell me if you want to," Keigo said evenly. He waited as Takumi huffed and looked down at his glass gloomily.
He spoke after a few minutes, suddenly sober.
"I'm in love with someone."
Keigo was surprised. Takumi was one of the most emotionally distant human being he knew and that was saying a lot in their circles.
"I shouldn't be. But I just can't let him go. Damn it."
"Have you told him?" Keigo asked.
"No. Not possible. I'll just lose him completely." Takumi downed another glass.
"It's not me, is it?" Keigo quipped.
Takumi gave him a glare. "No, it's not. Your ego is a turn-off."
Keigo shrugged. "That's just too bad."
He was curious though. "What sort of person is he?"
"He's dependable, smart, expressionless. A quiet idiot." Takumi gave a humorless laugh. "That's it. I'm in love with a quiet idiot."
"What happened tonight?" Keigo asked.
"I think he's getting married," Takumi replied gloomily.
"Is that a fact?" Keigo had to clarify.
"I THINK, damn you. But there's an offer," Takumi muttered. "He'll be stupid to turn it down."
"You are sure it's not me?"
"I just told you he's dependable! Quiet! Which damn part of you is quiet?"
"Fair point," Keigo conceded.
"Stop trying to make me feel better," Takumi demanded. "Just make sure I don't throw up over my couch."
"As you command," Keigo noted wryly.
They spent the next good hour with him just topping up Takumi's glass.
By the end of it, Takumi was so drunk that he didn't even bother restraining his emotional breakdown.
"Fuck, Keigo. I want to forget him."
"Clearly not possible," Keigo murmured.
"Why not? What's so damn great about that fucking idiot?"
"Apparently a lot," Keigo commented.
"No, you're right. I take that back. Not his fault that he's awesome. Fucking nice body as well."
"Perhaps you should call your quiet idiot and tell him," Keigo suggested.
"That he has a nice body?" Takumi was confused.
"No," Keigo explained patiently. "That you love him."
"What do you know about love?" Takumi shot back and then groaned. "Sorry, no offense."
"None taken," Keigo assured him. "It is the logical move."
"What if he hates me?" Takumi whined.
"Then you can move on," Keigo countered.
Takumi took another gulp of the alcohol and picked up his phone from the table.
"You know what, you're right."
It was like watching a slow-motion crash which he perpetuated because Takumi was suddenly shouting into the phone.
"HEYYYY! I love you! You hear that? I fucking love you! I've been pining for you for YEARS. Because of you, damn you, my sex life is fucked up! So take the fucking responsibility for what you've done and love me back already, you idiot!"
With that, Takumi closed the call and threw his phone onto the sofa carelessly.
"There. Done," he announced as if he had just climbed Mount Everest.
Keigo stared at him,
Then it hit Takumi what he had just done. He groaned, no, wailed.
"Oh shit! Fuck! What have I done! Oh my god!"
"Not quite what I had in mind," Keigo muttered under his breath.
"It's over. I've fucking screwed it up. Oh, god! Well, at least I can move on, right?"
He buried his face in the pillow and started to laugh hysterically.
Takumi's phone started to ring incessantly and seeing as Takumi was in no state to pick it up, Keigo went over and answered the call. Apparently, Takumi had saved the love of his life's number under "Poker Face".
"Wada here," Keigo told the person on the line and stepped away slightly from the living room.
"Where is Takumi?" the voice cooled considerably.
"At home. On the couch, drunk and wailing," Keigo summarized.
"What are YOU doing there?"
"Making sure he doesn't vomit over his very expensive couch," Keigo answered and rolled his eyes.
"I'm coming over now," the man ordered. "Stay with him until I get there."
"Of course," Keigo replied sardonically.
"I'll be there in ten minutes." Then he hung up.
Keigo drew in a breath and summoned his patience. He went back to Takumi, who was now hugging the pillow and sobbing.
Who would have ever thought? The cool and unattainable Matsumoto Takumi, pining over someone?
Keigo sat on the armchair and waited. Takumi didn't appear to want to talk to him either. He poured another glass and Takumi took it wordlessly.
To say that Takumi was wasted when the door bell rang was an understatement. Keigo stood up and went to open it.
He knew the man at the door. As Takumi said, quiet and dependable.
He had omitted highly intelligent and someone Keigo hoped never to see across the table in a corporate litigation.
Not a bad choice, Keigo conceded mentally.
"How is he?" the man asked urgently.
"Are you getting married?" Keigo returned.
The answer was firm. "No."
"Come on in." Keigo stepped aside and watched as the man rushed to Takumi's side.
He didn't want to witness something which was obviously private. Keigo took his coat and left discreetly, although he caught Takumi throwing his arms around the man and calming down to whatever was being said to him.
Takumi's words still resonated when he got into his car.
It was true that Keigo didn't know much about love.
What Takumi did not know was how close he came two years ago.
Has it been that long? Why did remembering Kaoru still cause an unbearable mix of anger and regret?
He had channeled all that anger into work. He had slept with countless strangers since but couldn't face the thought of fucking any dark-haired man or woman.
The human heart was resilient, especially when it was frozen.
"Where to, sir?"
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