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You’re sixteen, and you’re in love. This is what Hifumi tells himself on the morning of his sixteenth birthday as he walks into class and finds a basket full of handmade silly gifts on his desk. From Doppo, the note that has been included reads. Of course it’s from Doppo. Nobody else would do this.
Hifumi looks at the basket of gifts on his desk, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. For a moment, he wonders whether or not this might actually be from someone other than Doppo, maybe someone making it up—but that doesn’t seem plausible. Doppo is the only friend that Hifumi has, for the most part; most of their other classmates think that he’s a little too weird, a little too eccentric, a little too annoying. He knows that they don’t want to put up with him, but it doesn’t bother him.
And Doppo is the same way: Hifumi is pretty much his only friend. Hifumi knows for a fact that it does bother Doppo that he doesn’t have any other friends. He wishes that Doppo could just let things go and not care and stress so much about everything, but it’s hard to change habits. Especially ones that are so deeply ingrained in people’s minds.
Well, it’s okay. If Doppo wants to be upset about that stuff, then he can be upset. Hifumi will be there to comfort him.
Speaking of Doppo, though: where is he? Hifumi takes a brief glance around the classroom and isn’t able to spot him, which is odd. They walk to school together most days, but Doppo had said that he wasn’t able to today, and profusely apologized for not accompanying Hifumi on his birthday.
Seeing this basket of gifts has made Hifumi not care at all. Doppo just wanted to surprise him! How cute. He doesn’t really know how he’s going to go about carrying this thing around all day, but he’ll make it work.
Anyway: Doppo. Doppo, Doppo, Doppo—where could he be?
Hifumi is about to leave the classroom to go hunt for him when suddenly the door slides open and the boy in question steps into the room. He’s wringing his hands together, which is a nervous habit of his, among other things that Hifumi has come to notice.
“Doppo-chin!” Hifumi exclaims, stepping forward and throwing his arms around him in a hug. He pulls away, keeping his arms looped around Doppo’s torso, holding him just a bit too close to be normal. “Where were you?”
“I was, uh, i-in the bathroom.” He blinks a few times, looking around, not meeting Hifumi’s eye. “I was… worried that you wouldn’t like—”
“Wouldn’t like the stuff you left me on my desk?” Hifumi raises an eyebrow. “Don’t be silly! How could I dislike it? Nobody’s ever done something like that for me before! You’re the first person. My first!”
“Don’t phrase it like that,” Doppo mumbles.
Hifumi realizes, all at once, that he’s still got his arms around Doppo. He releases his embrace, dropping his arms to his sides and missing the comfort of having someone to hold onto. Hm. “Sorry, sorry. Really, though, I can’t believe that you got me all of this stuff!”
“I didn’t buy all of it. Some of it is home made. A-And there’s a card, but don’t read it until you get home.” Pause. “It’s… personal.”
“Okay! No reading until I get home,” Hifumi says, nodding wildly. “Want to sleep over? It’s Sunday tomorrow, so we—”
“Yes,” Doppo says, and Hifumi nearly does a double take, because Doppo rarely interrupts him in the middle of speaking. He sure has been acting funky today. It’s as if he’s about to give a piano recital.
“Hehe. All right then. Will you help me carry the basket home? It looks heavy. How did you bring it to school all by yourself?”
“I—sure, I’ll help you. And it’s because I left really early in the morning. My mom helped me put it together but I was the one who carried it.”
“Whoaaaaa! Strong Doppo!” Hifumi reaches out and squeezes Doppo’s bicep, and there really isn’t any muscle there at all, but he smiles as he does so anyway, making a facial expression of surprise. Even though Hifumi is only touching his arm, for some reason, it feels as if he’s holding onto Doppo for dear life, lest he slips away into the floor out of anxiety.
“I’m not,” Doppo mumbles again. Mumble, mumble, mumble. He’s always mumbling, always so unsure. Hifumi wishes he could change that. “Don’t squeeze my arm like that, it tickles a little bit.”
Hifumi debates doing it again, just to mess around, but decides that he’d rather not screw with Doppo too much even though it’s his own birthday. Instead he puts his hands on his hips, smiles, and gets real close up into Doppo’s face before blowing air out onto his nose. “I think you’re a real tough guy, but that’s just me. I won’t argue with you though!”
“If you say so,” Doppo says, but there’s a little smile on his face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Hifumi. He giggles, wraps his arm around Doppo’s shoulder, and drags him to his desk, so that he can force him to watch as he goes through the gifts before class starts.
Just like he said he would, Doppo comes over to spend the night at Hifumi’s house. It’s one in the morning now—they had spent a pretty good chunk of the evening doing homework and then playing video games. The mindlessness of it all felt pretty good, especially after doing a bunch of math. Doppo is pretty bad at playing video games, but he tries his hardest, and Hifumi thinks that it’s super cute.
It’s one in the morning now, and they’re laying side-by-side in Hifumi’s bed now, shoulders pressing up against one another. The string lights that dangle across the ceiling and walls are the only thing lighting the room, along with the flickering of a lavender scented candle somewhere on the floor.
Hifumi loves moments like this. They’re so quiet. They remind him of how much Doppo means to him.
“Read my card now,” Doppo says, handing it over to Hifumi, who takes it and opens it up. Doppo would probably die of embarrassment if he read it aloud, so he sticks to reading it in his head.
Hifumi,
You know that I’m bad at writing cards. I always give you crap cards every single year for your birthday, so I’m trying to make this one better than those. I hope it doesn’t come off as too honest.
Here goes.
Thank you for always being my friend. I think it’s cheesy to say that, but I really mean it. I don’t know where I would be without you in my life. I’ve always thought of you as my only friend, but you’re my best friend too—except, you aren’t my best friend because you’re my only friend. You’re my best friend because you’re the only person I can confide in. The only person that I can trust. The only person that I feel excited about seeing when I wake up in the morning. You’re the one part of my day that I look forward to experiencing. You make my life a little better.
I’m already running out of space, but there’s a lot more that I want to say. It’s scary being this straightforward, because it’s scary being vulnerable with people, even if they’re your best friend. But I know that you’ll take this seriously. I know that you feel the same way. And that’s something that is invaluable to me.
Happy birthday, Hifumi… I love you. I hope we get to spend a lot more years together.
Hifumi has never felt like crying because of a birthday card before, but he thinks this might be the first time.
He sits up. He looks down at Doppo, who has this hallow, anxious look on his face.
“Thank you,” Hifumi says, and his voice is as thin as tulle, as gentle as silk. “Thank you, Doppo-chin. It was a really good card. You did a good job.”
And Doppo smiles, then, a real smile—not one of his nervous smiles. It’s a smile that lights up the whole room, the whole house, the whole sky, one that he melts into and feels in all of his connective tissue and all of his muscle.
Something pangs inside of Hifumi’s chest. Oh, he loves Doppo. He loves him so much. He loves him too much. He leans down to wrap his arms around him, their second warm embrace of the day, except this time it is uninterrupted by other students and a noisy environment. This time it is only the two of them and the spin of the earth and the flickering of a candle.
“I love you too!” he says into Doppo’s ear, nuzzling his face into the side of his neck. Doppo doesn’t exude warmth like a space heater, but he’s certainly nice to press up against. It’s comforting. “You’re my Doppo!”
There’s a moment of silence, then, and for a moment Hifumi wonders if he shouldn’t have said that. But then comes a whisper:
“You’re my Hifumi, too.”
You’re twenty, and you’re in love. This is what Hifumi tells himself during the afternoon of his twentieth birthday. He’s just woken up, and Doppo is sleeping soundly beside him on his stomach, face smushed into the pillows. He looks so calm when he sleeps like this. So at peace. And that’s a good thing, considering how late they had stayed up pre-celebrating Hifumi’s birthday.
Things have been rough lately, objectively speaking. Hifumi has been struggling a lot. Doppo has been struggling a lot. Entering your twenties is, shockingly, a lot more painful than everyone jokes about how it is, and Hifumi isn’t feeling prepared at all. He would like to say that he wishes he could stay nineteen forever, but he doesn’t want to do that.
Unfortunately, all he can associate his teenage years with is a lot of pain.
Of course, Doppo has been here with him the whole time, so it isn’t entirely painful, but a very good portion of it has still been painful. Too painful to function. Too painful to leave the house, too painful to stand in the train station without having to stare at his shoes as if they were his only lifeline while Doppo holds his arm tightly, a tether to the material world.
But! But. Right now, none of those things matter, because right now it is the afternoon of Hifumi’s birthday, and there is nothing here to scare him because the only person near him is Doppo. And, quite truthfully, that’s how Hifumi wants it to be.
Hifumi rolls over onto his side, pulling his legs up into an L-shape and getting comfy. He puts his hand on the back of Doppo’s head and pets his hair, smiling to himself as he does so. Sometimes Doppo complains that they’re both too old to be doing this sort of thing without it being weird, but Hifumi knows that Doppo is only saying that because he wants to conform. Hifumi knows that Doppo likes it, because when they’re alone together and their shoulders are touching and Hifumi holds Doppo’s hand in his own, Doppo doesn’t say anything about it. He leans into it.
After all, Hifumi wouldn’t do anything that Doppo isn’t comfortable with. At this point, he’s got a pretty good read on his behavior; he can easily parse out how Doppo is really feeling versus what he’s pretending to feel.
There’s a certain comfort that comes with that.
Thinking about this makes Hifumi’s stomach twist. Thinking about Doppo at all makes his stomach twist—it’s been like this for years and years already. It feels like forever. He’s gotten very good at keeping that feeling under control, at keeping the sensation of butterflies flitting around inside of his organs to a low degree, but in times like this, he can’t help and indulge in the sensation.
Looking at Doppo makes Hifumi smile. It makes him feel good, makes him feel safe. It makes him feel like maybe—just maybe—there are still some good parts associated with being alive. Hifumi clings to that sensation, tighter than anything else, as if it were a rope suspending him down the side of a cliff.
Hifumi loves Doppo.
And, well—maybe Doppo doesn’t love him back in the same way, but that’s okay. Doppo does love Hifumi, but Hifumi thinks that it’s in a different sort of manner, one more marked by we-are-best-friends and not I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you . But that’s okay! It really is okay. Hifumi doesn’t mind. It used to hurt just a little bit, but he’s long since gotten over that feeling and replaced it with simple happiness that the two of them have still been friends for so long.
As long as Hifumi can be an important person in Doppo’s life, then it’s okay. Then he is content with the love he receives.
Beside him, Doppo stirs a little bit. Hifumi flops back onto his side again so that he can see him waking up better, since he always looks so cute and sleepy whenever he does that, drowsy beyond measure. Hifumi giggles quietly as Doppo lifts his face up from the pillow, taking a deep breath and blinking a few times.
“Morning, Doppo-chin,” Hifumi says in the loudest whisper-voice possible.
Doppo makes a vague grumbling sound before he turns his head to look at Hifumi. “Morning,” he says, propping himself up with an elbow and rubbing his eyes. “I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“No kidding! I had to carry you to bed. You fell asleep on the floor while we were watching that cooking show,” Hifumi explains. “I think it might have been five in the morning? I was really surprised, because you never stay up that late!”
The words all fall out of his mouth in one big rush, and it dawns on Hifumi how it feels as though he could talk to Doppo forever. Ah, so cheesy.
“My sleep is getting worse,” Doppo mumbles, pulling himself up into a seated position. “Anyway, though. Happy birthday. You can drink now.”
“Is that what’s the most important thing about turning twenty?” Hifumi asks, raising an eyebrow. “Drinking?”
“I mean, no. But still. We should buy champagne tonight. I know some good brands.”
“Ooooh, do you? Knowledgeable Doppo!” Hifumi giggles again, bright as the sun, and leans forward, holding his arms out. “Now hug me!”
“Okay, okay.” Doppo grins despite himself, it seems, and gives Hifumi a wonderfully warm hug. He smells like Doppo, Hifumi thinks to himself, and smiles softly at the thought.
“I’m sorry that I did a shitty job getting you gifts this year again,” Doppo says, sighing. “I’m having money problems. But I did get you something, so hold on.”
Hifumi scoots out of the way so that Doppo can climb over him and get out of bed. He hobbles over to his bag of stuff that has been laying on the floor for the past four days—he’s been spending a lot of time here—and pulls out a little gift bag. It’s pretty tiny, but Hifumi’s getting all excited either way.
Doppo returns to the bed, sitting on the mattress with his legs crossed, and hands the bag over to Hifumi. Hifumi takes it into his hands and looks at it—it’s a metallic gold color, with little glitter flecks. He likes it.
He reaches into the bag, tosses away some of the tissue paper, and pulls out a little box. He opens it up and finds—
A little bracelet. Silver, made out of thin felt rope, with a tiny charm hanging off of the side of it. He holds it in his hand, speechless at such a gesture.
“I-It’s kind of dumb,” Doppo mumbles. “Sorry if you don’t like it. I saw it in a store window on my way home one day and I—”
“I like it!” Hifumi says, snapping his head up to look Doppo in the eyes. “I really, really like it, Doppo-chin. Don’t apologize.” He tries hard to keep his lip from wobbling, tries hard to keep the love in his chest from spilling over everywhere. “Put it on me?”
“You can just do that yourself, you know.”
“Mmm, yeah. But I want you to do it for me! So c’mon!” Hifumi holds out the bracelet and his wrist expectantly, and Doppo sighs but complies without another word, taking the bracelet into his hand and undoing the clip so that he can put it around Hifumi’s wrist. When all is said and done, he drops his hands into his lap, smiling anxiously.
“Thaaaaank you!” Hifumi says, grinning wider than feels possible. He looks at the bracelet and feels comforted, like there’s a little piece of Doppo that will be with him whenever he needs him to be.
“There’s a, um, card in there too.” Doppo fishes into the bag and pulls it out, handing it over slowly. Hifumi takes it and unfolds it.
Hey Hifumi,
You’re having another birthday, and I’m spending it with you again. That’s kind of crazy to think about. We’ve spent a lot of birthdays together already, and I guess this is another one to add to the list.
I hope this year is good. I know you’ve been having a really hard time for the last few years, and you don’t deserve to suffer like that at all, which is why I want today to be special for you. We can do whatever you want. We don’t have to go outside or anything, we can just lay in your bed all day and you can force me to watch those stupid baking product commercials that you like so much.
Happy birthday. I’m happy that I get to be special enough to spend it with you.
Doppo
Hifumi can’t help his reaction to the card—he clutches it close to his chest, smiling, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent himself from crying. He can cry later—not now. Not in front of Doppo; Doppo has seen him cry too many times before.
Instead he smiles. He smiles and smiles and smiles because today is going to be a good day; it will be a good birthday. In a little while Hifumi will get up and cook breakfast for himself and Doppo and they will sit on the floor of Hifumi’s bedroom and eat it together happily while they watch those baking product commercials that Doppo mentioned in his card.
It will be a good day. It will! They don’t have to go outside. They don’t have to go to the train station. They don’t have to go anywhere at all.
They can just stay here.
Hifumi realizes that he’s been sitting in silence for a few seconds too long, so he blinks himself out of his thought train and looks at Doppo, who has a face as if he’s just seen a walking skeleton. “Thank you, Doppo-chin,” Hifumi says, pulling Doppo in for a second hug. Doppo hesitates for a second—sometimes his brain takes a few seconds to catch up with his surroundings—but then he returns the hug, clinging to the fabric of Hifumi’s shirt and resting his head against his shoulder.
Another moment that Hifumi will never forget.
Hifumi doesn’t forget any of the hugs that Doppo gives him on his birthdays, but this one feels especially important. Doppo feels just like Doppo, comforting and anxious at the same time, a chest full of photographs left to rest in an attic full of cobwebs for years. Hifumi wishes that he could wrap him up and keep him safe from the horrible world that they live in.
But he can’t, and that’s why moments like these are times that Hifumi treasures so dearly.
They pull away after a minute, and Hifumi can feel himself nearly crying again, so he bites the inside of his cheek as hard as he can to keep it from coming. This happens every year: Doppo gives Hifumi his gift, Hifumi nearly cries, they hug, and Hifumi nearly cries again. It’s cyclic in nature which is both a net of safety and a cavern of danger, because one year he’s not going to be able to hold himself back anymore and decades worth of tears and emotion will fall out onto Doppo’s lap.
Not yet, though. Not this year.
He takes a deep breath and leans back, tilting his head to the side. “Want me to make you breakfast?”
“I feel like I’m the one who should be doing that,” Doppo says.
“Naaaah, it’s okay. I wanna cook! Let me cook!”
“Well.” Doppo gives a lopsided grin. “Okay, then. You can make me breakfast.”
Hifumi hops out of bed, pulls Doppo along with him, and dances his way to the kitchen.
You’re twenty four, and you’re in love. This is what Hifumi tells himself in the evening of his twenty fourth birthday, all while wearing a dazzlingly bright silver speckled suit. Doppo is beside him, drinking out of a champagne flute with a sweaty look on his face. His hand is on Hifumi’s thigh. His hand is on Hifumi’s heart.
They’re at some event tonight. Hifumi is a little bit drunk, but not horribly drunk to the point where he can’t think straight. Doppo doesn’t seem to be drunk at all—if he is, he’s hiding it well, which isn’t likely because Doppo gets very messy when he’s drunk—he just looks anxious. They’ve been here for a few hours, a party for some award thing that someone who Hifumi and Doppo vaguely knew in high school. They’re really not sure why they were invited, but there wasn’t a fee to attend, and who could say no to free food and drinks?
And, fortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any women here, which is a little strange but relieving at the same time. Hifumi feels pretty relaxed, which is a stark contrast to how tense Doppo seems to be. It’s probably why he’s holding onto Hifumi’s leg for dear life.
“You okay?” he asks, nudging Doppo in the side.
“Y-Yeah,” Doppo says, and it’s the least convincing thing in the world.
“You’re not good at pretending to be fine, y’know.”
Doppo sighs. “I’m just—are you sure you want to be here? Wouldn’t you rather be doing anything else? I mean, it’s your birthday, so it’s up to you, but we barely know these guys and I think we were only invited so that the host would look more popular than he actually is, and I’m sorry if what I’m saying is offending you, I just think that you should have a good—”
“Doppo! Doppo. Relax. I’m okay!” Hifumi smiles reassuringly. “I just wanted some free food and free drinks, and now I’ve gotten that. Do you want to go home now? Because we can! But I want to try and steal a champagne bottle. I think I can pull it off.”
“Hifumi, no you can’t.”
“Yes I can!”
“I don’t think you realize that you really can’t,” Doppo says, sighing again.
“Such a party pooper.” Hifumi crosses his arms over his chest and huffs dramatically. “But okay, that’s fine. D’you wanna go home? Can you walk?”
“I’m not drunk.”
Hifumi believes him. “All right! Then let’s get going. You can stop gripping my thigh now.”
“Oh, um.” Doppo pulls his hand away. “S-Sorry. I didn’t realize—”
Hifumi hops to his feet and holds out a hand to Doppo to help him stand before he begins to spiral. “No worries. Come on, let’s go.”
It’s been like this for a while. There has been a certain… tenseness that has been surrounding Hifumi and Doppo’s friendship for about the last two years now. Hifumi can’t really put his finger on it, but it’s a little stressful. Sometimes he’ll catch Doppo staring at him from across the room, and the moment he’s caught, Doppo stalks back into his room and hides out there for a few hours.
It must have started when they moved in together, Hifumi thinks. That’s when things got more tense. Moved into their dinky, shitty little apartment.
Doppo acts so differently now. He hasn’t told Hifumi that he loves him in what must be years now, he doesn’t cling so much to him like he did when they were teenagers. Adults don’t do that sort of thing with each other, he always says with this pained look on his face, this empty look, like he wants to take it back. Like he knows that he’s hurting Hifumi’s feelings.
Despite all that, though, he still lets Hifumi be clingy sometimes. Not all the time—sometimes he pushes Hifumi away, pushes him so far away both physically and emotionally, and Hifumi is left by himself.
By himself.
He knows that he really isn’t by himself because Doppo is still here. Hifumi knows that Doppo still loves him, of course he does, because he can tell with all of Doppo’s little actions: the way that he smiles at him in the morning, the way that he puts his hand on Hifumi’s back when they’re in the train station and there are too many girls around them, the way that he buys all of the groceries that Hifumi likes.
The love is still there. It’s just that Doppo is… different now. He’s less open about his affection. Hifumi misses it.
But! He isn’t going to let that get him down, especially on his birthday. Right now, the objective is to get home, and then they can spend some quiet time together.
The two of them leave the event.
When they get home, Hifumi very nearly stumbles into the apartment. Walking is a little harder than he remembers it to be, but Doppo leads him to the bathroom anyway and pulls out the makeup wipes.
“Let me help you get this stuff off of your face,” he says.
“Wait. Wait!” Hifumi scrambles to pull his phone out of his pocket. “Take a picture with me first!”
“How?”
“Like—like this. Wait.” Hifumi manhandles Doppo a little bit, placing him in front of the mirror. He stands behind Doppo, then, and puts one arm around his waist and leans his chin on his shoulder, having to bend down just a tiny bit because Doppo is ever so slightly shorter than him.
“Smile all pretty,” Hifumi says, and Doppo looks anxious, but he smiles anyway as Hifumi takes the picture.
He looks at his phone and grins. “It looks good. You look so good in your suit.”
“Yeah?” Doppo is mumbling again.
“Yeah!”
“Hifumi, look at me,” Doppo suddenly says, and he’s turning around so that he can face Hifumi now. Hifumi’s arm is still around Doppo’s waist, and all at once the room goes quiet as the end of the world.
“Doppo,” Hifumi whispers.
“Hifumi,” Doppo whispers.
“I—”
“Wait.” Doppo closes his eyes and licks his lips. “Can I—would you kiss me if I asked? Just this once?”
Hifumi’s eyebrows shoot up. His heart beats harder than it ever has before in his life. “Where’s this coming from?”
“I’ve never kissed anybody before,” Doppo says. “Oh, god. I’m r-really sorry. I think the champagne is—”
Ah, he’s going to spiral again. Can’t have that. Hifumi ignores him and sways forward, pressing his lips to Doppo’s, and it feels like everything he’s ever dreamed of before. Fireworks, lights, the earth stops spinning, the floor falls out from underneath them, all of those things.
There is no world. It’s only Hifumi and Doppo in this moment.
Hifumi expects Doppo to pull away, because of course he would, but instead he surges forward, gripping Hifumi tightly by the arms. Hifumi drops his phone to the floor, not caring about whether or not it breaks, and pushes Doppo up against the sink counter. The planet is melting around him. The bathroom is melting around him. The mirrors and the lightswitch are melting. Everything is melting.
It feels so good. Hifumi shuts his brain off. He feels Doppo’s tongue against his own. He listens to Doppo moan. He hooks his arms around Doppo’s neck. He pulls Doppo’s legs apart and shoves himself in between them, pushing up against his front.
He kisses Doppo. And he keeps going, going, going, breathing heavy. It doesn’t matter if they’ll regret this tomorrow. It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that right now neither of them seem to care.
“Hifumi,” Doppo says against his mouth. “Hifumi.”
“Touch me,” Hifumi whispers, the words stacking on top of each other. “Touch me.”
And Doppo does. He runs his hands all along Hifumi’s sides and up his chest and even though it isn’t even skin-to-skin contact Hifumi still shivers, leaning into it, kissing Doppo more and more and more and more until he’s dizzy with adrenaline and panting wetly.
All at once they stop.
Doppo is the one who stops it first, and then Hifumi pulls back too. They make eye contact and it’s like putting a fork into an electrical outlet.
“Um—” Doppo’s face is bright red. “Uh—”
“Whoa,” Hifumi says, blinking a few times, touching his lips. “That was intense!”
“Yeah.” Doppo looks like he’s forgotten how to speak, which is warranted. “We should—thank you. For that. It was good. I mean! I think it was. I’m sorry if you didn’t. Maybe we should forget that this—”
“I don’t want to forget,” Hifumi says. “Please don’t say that. I don’t want to forget.”
Doppo stares at him, unblinking, mouth hanging open a little bit. His lips are red. After a lifetime of silence passes, he finally says: “Okay.”
And that’s that. Sort of. There's an unmistakable tension that they're both pretending isn't there.
The two of them exit the bathroom after Doppo wipes Hifumi’s makeup off of his face, and Doppo carries Hifumi to his room and drops him on his bed. “Want to watch something for a little bit?” he asks. “I need to change first.”
“Sure!” Hifumi says, trying his very best to behave like a normal person. “Let’s do that. I need something to help me fall asleep.”
“Yeah,” Doppo agrees. “Well, I’ll—I’ll just go change, then.”
He leaves the room. Hifumi sits alone in the heavy quiet of his bedroom, touching the sheets with his palm.
He changes. He meets Doppo on their little couch and they watch a bad movie—a horrible movie. Hifumi thinks that he’ll remember this movie for the rest of his life as the best worst movie of all time. His heart beats loudly; he wonders if Doppo can hear it trying to lurch out of his chest. Wonders if he understands how badly he wants to give it to Doppo.
Asking feels impossible.
At some point, Hifumi falls asleep, and at some point, Doppo carries him to bed again. He tucks him into the cold blankets, and Hifumi wishes that Doppo would stay, but he knows that he won’t. He won’t.
Hifumi falls asleep in his empty, cold bed and dreams about a field of tigridia flowers.
When he wakes up in the morning, there’s a note taped to the door of his bedroom. Hifumi peels it off and opens it up.
Hifumi,
Happy birthday. Another year has gone by, and we’re still here together. At this point it isn’t surprising anymore, it just feels like routine. I like that. I like this routine that we have, because it feels comforting in its regularity. Maybe that’s a strange thing to say. There aren’t a lot of things that make me happy, but this is one of the few things that do. And I want to thank you for that.
So: thank you. For another year.
I haven’t gotten better at writing cards. Sorry. I’m either too honest or too unenthusiastic. But I’m putting my feelings into it, and I hope it comes off clearly.
Things will get better for us. Happy birthday.
Yours
,
Doppo
Hifumi stares at the note. He blinks. His lip wobbles. He cries. He sinks to his knees and holds the note to his chest like he had when he was twenty and he cries and cries and cries.
Doppo has always been good at writing cards.
You’re twenty nine, and you’re in love. This is what Hifumi tells himself on the night of his twenty ninth birthday, with the moon looking down at him, listening. It would be more appropriate to call it early morning. Doppo is next to him, smoking a cigarette, quietly staring out at the city. His arm links around Hifumi’s arm, holding him in place, holding Hifumi where he wants to be. Holding him steady. Holding him.
They’ve stopped talking about feelings.
It’s okay, Hifumi tells himself over and over again. It’s okay that they’ve totally stopped talking about feelings. Because there are still moments where Doppo holds Hifumi like this. There are still moments where Hifumi holds Doppo, too.
It’s just that they’ve completely distanced themselves from emotions ever since that one fated day. Hifumi’s twenty-fourth birthday.
It’s been too many years.
For the most part, they moved past that. There were a few awkward days that followed the event, but for the most part, they continued their lives as usual. Eventually Doppo seemed to feel a little less bad about being touchy. He’s never been a particularly clingy person, which is fine, everybody is different—so it’s been nice to see him give in to things like that. It makes Hifumi feel… wanted.
Hifumi wishes to feel wanted.
Sometimes he does feel wanted. Sometimes he doesn’t. He does feel wanted when Doppo sleeps on the couch and wakes up at three in the morning when Hifumi stumbles back into their apartment, drunk and giggling from work. He does feel wanted when Doppo wipes off his makeup and puts him to bed and touches the side of his face. He does feel wanted. He feels so wanted.
He doesn’t feel that way when Doppo turns the other direction when they’re talking about something sensitive. Doppo isn’t good with confrontation of his problems, which is understandable, considering that he has so many, but—but still. Hifumi wants to be looked at. Hifumi wants to be seen by this man that he has loved so, so much for over ten years.
“It’s a nice night,” Doppo says, flicking ash off of his cigarette. Hifumi wants to say something about how he shouldn’t litter, but he doesn’t. “Warm outside.”
“Mmm.” Hifumi nods, squashing his shoulder up against Doppo’s. “Not too hot, though. Better than it was last week.”
“A lot better.” Doppo sighs. “I was sweating my ass off at work and on the ride home. It’s making there be more laundry than usual.”
“You know that I don’t mind doing laundry!”
“Yeah, and it’s weird.” Doppo holds his cigarette out to Hifumi, and Hifumi takes it into his index and middle finger. “People aren’t supposed to like doing laundry.”
“Well, I like to do it.” He takes a drag from the cigarette. “It makes me feel all… motherly.”
“Uh huh. As long as it makes you happy, then I guess I shouldn’t complain.”
“That’s right! Besides, stupid stuff makes you happy too. Like those little animal-shaped travel shampoo bottles that you make me steal from work whenever they give it to us as a promotion.”
“Shush,” Doppo says, waving his hand around and reaching out for the cigarette. Hifumi hands it back to him, and for a moment, becomes overwhelmed with how much Doppo has changed. He’s so… hardened now. So exhausted. The light behind his eyes is getting dimmer.
Hifumi looks away and worries his lip.
Enjoy this quiet moment , he tells himself.
“Have you been okay lately?” Doppo asks, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere.
“Oh! Yeah, I’ve been okay. Everything is the same as it usually is.” Hopefully that’s a convincing enough answer. Hifumi doesn’t particularly like thinking about the painful parts of his life anymore. “Have you been okay?”
“I’m not going to answer that,” Doppo says, stubbing the cigarette out on the railing. “Sorry. I should be more positive. It’s your birthday…”
“It’s okay, Doppo-chin, really. Not a big deal.”
“Maybe. Let’s go back inside, I have something to give you.” He pushes himself away from the railing and tosses the cigarette into the ashtray he’d brought out and placed on the floor before stepping over to the door and holding it open.
“Thanks,” Hifumi hums, heading inside and kicking his shoes off before hopping over to the couch and plopping himself back down. This alternation between a lot of energy and a little bit of energy is tiring, but that’s just how it is.
Doppo looks over at him. “Just a minute.” He speaks quickly, and then disappears into his room.
Hifumi slumps onto the couch, really squashing himself into the cushions as he waits for Doppo to return. He tries not to think about anything, because there are a lot of things to think about but none of them feel appealing. He’d rather just think about Doppo. He’d rather just think about how he’s going to get another card from Doppo.
It doesn’t take long for Doppo to return. He takes a seat next to Hifumi, and his face is as pale as smoke; it comes off as particularly anxious. Hifumi has half the mind to ask him if he’s okay, but decides against it, because he knows that Doppo will just brush it off.
Doppo holds out the little bag to him. It’s a pretty color; a nice silver with a shiny surface. “I know I say this every year, but read the card second,” Doppo says.
Hifumi nods and pulls out the first thing from the bag. It looks like a book.
Upon further inspection, it’s actually a photo album.
Oh, this is going to hurt. Hifumi opens it up to the first page and sees a picture of the two of them, smiling happily, as little kids—they were eight when this was taken, he thinks. They’re standing in a patch of grass and there’s a great big blue sky in the background: a memory from when the two of them took a trip to a rural park.
Hifumi bites his lip and turns to the next page. Childhood, it says at the top in Doppo’s messy handwriting. The whole page is full of photos of them when they were young. Wallpaper peels back in Hifumi’s mind and he suddenly remembers things that he’s long forgotten about due to trauma. He turns to the next page: Middle school. The next page: high school. Young adulthood. Early 20’s. Middle 20’s. Late 20’s.
Full of photos. Photos upon photos upon photos of the two of them, of Hifumi and Doppo.
Hifumi lifts his head up, mouth hanging open. Speechless.
“I-I had to contact a lot of people to get some of these pictures,” Doppo admits, rubbing his arm. “It was a lot of work. I hope you like it. I’m sorry if—”
“No, don’t apologize,” Hifumi interrupts. “Don’t apologize. I really, really like it. I’ve never… gotten a gift before with so much thought put into it! I—” He puts the album down and rubs his face harshly. “I really like it, Doppo. Thank you.”
Doppo takes a deep breath, smiling in a way that conveys relief. “Good,” he says. “I’m glad.”
Hifumi puts the photo album down on the couch as gently as humanly possible and pulls out the card. He swallows, unable to emotionally prepare himself for what’s to come.
Hi there, Hifumi,
Another birthday. You’re almost 30; can you believe it? You’re almost 30 but you still look as good as you did when we were 23. It’s crazy. You have such an intense skincare routine. Meanwhile, I’m becoming a zombie.
Well, anyway. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking for the last… two years, I think? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us, and I want to share some conclusions that I’ve come to.
I know that you think you’re a thorn in my side. I know that you think I deserve better than you because you’re ‘hard to deal with’ but I really don’t care about that. I want you to hear that, and I want you to remember that. I’m not good with words, Hifumi, but I think it’s high time I tell you that you’re the most important person to me in my whole life. More important than anybody else. I’ll never meet someone else like you for as long as I live. I can say that for certain.
I’ve been so distant lately. I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to reconcile with a lot of my… feelings. With my feelings of worthlessness. And I’ve decided that I don’t want to have to feel sorry for myself anymore… at least, not in relation to you. I’ll keep feeling sorry about myself in relation to everything else, haha. But I owe you this. I owe you certainty.
I love you, Hifumi. I haven’t said this in a while. But I really love you. I’ve never stopped, not since we were kids and I couldn’t even understand the feeling. I love you. It feels good to say. And if you’ll have me, I want to be with you. I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. I’m not usually this forward, so it feels strange to say, but I can’t keep holding back for arbitrary reasons anymore.
Happy birthday, Hifumi.
Yours,
Doppo
There is a ringing in Hifumi’s ears.
He doesn’t know when he started crying. It’s hard to tell. He only notices it when a tear drops off of his cheek and onto his arm, startling him out of the process of him re-reading the card over and over again.
And the tears keep coming. He drops the card into his lap and covers his hand with his mouth and lets out a sob, muffled by his palm, and can hear Doppo scrambling beside him. “Oh, god, Hifumi, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“No. No! Doppo, you don’t get it.” Hifumi flings himself at Doppo before he can keep talking, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into his neck. He still smells like Doppo. He cries into his shirt, and Doppo puts his hands around Hifumi’s back, rubbing him there, keeping him in place.
Time passes. It takes a little bit for Hifumi to collect himself, but when he does, he pulls away and rubs his eyes with his arm. “Kiss me now,” he orders, and Doppo doesn’t hesitate for even a moment, leaning in immediately and connecting their mouths. Hifumi absolutely melts into it, shoulders and torso relaxing into the sensation as the rest of the world fades out behind him.
It was just like the last time, but better, because this time it means something more. It means everything. It’s overwhelming—the feeling is overwhelming, the surge of warmth in his stomach and the tingling in his arms and legs and the floaty sensation in his brain.
It is everything.
His Doppo.
Hifumi pulls back, teary-eyed and sniffly and smiling wider than he ever has in his whole life, still at a loss for words.
“So is that a yes?” Doppo asks, clearly making a rare joke.
“Yes! Of course it’s a yes, silly,” Hifumi says, hugging him tight. “I’ve waited so long for you.”
“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Doppo whispers. “You won’t have to do that ever again. I promise. I-I’ve never been more certain.”
Hifumi doesn’t say anything in return—he doesn’t think that he has to. Instead he keeps on holding Doppo, keeps on holding his Doppo, keeps on holding the moon that hangs high in the sky, the moon that stands out from all of the twinkling stars. He’ll never let go. He couldn’t. He hasn’t let go all of these years, and he certainly isn’t about to change that.
Hifumi holds on tight. Doppo holds tight back.
And Hifumi thinks back to being sixteen, and twenty, and twenty four. A lot of things have changed in those years between the two of them, but in the end, it seems to have come full circle. There has always been love. Hifumi has always been in love. And it feels so wonderful. It wraps around his chest, unfurling underneath his sternum, grazing the soft tissue that encases his heart.
Hifumi has always been in love.