all of me wants all of you

I almost made a serial killer joke again, but not only could it age poorly in case his friends were worse than expected; they never seemed to land. I only seemed to be funny when I was the punchline, and an unwilling one at that. "Um. Or not."

Natsume Youji stood in front of the door, looking at the wall, or at nothing. "Good night, Isao," he said. 

So no. 

I'd tried. 

It'd be fine. 

Slow steps. 

I just had to avoid asking what I wanted to ask because I knew the answer already and I knew this yet would think about it for hours if I did not, so... well, what was the worst that could happen? Him thinking I was weird? Please. "Good night, Natsume Youji. Do you hate me?"

"I don't."

"Why?"

"How often do you ask this to people?" He inquired.

"Um. Not often. Just to you. Because. I don't talk this much to anyone else unless they're my family, so it doesn't matter to me if others. Do." I slammed the door shut. FUCK. This was exactly why I shouldn't have asked.

I heard him walk away, across the hallway, down the stairs...? Until I didn't, suddenly, as though he'd vanished. It could also be my heart beating so fast it drowned everything else, but it'd suck if he'd gotten kidnapped and...

...oh, who was I kidding?

I slammed the door open. Natsume Youji, who stood a few meters away, blinked, startled.

He'd been looking my way. Neither he nor I moved. Time hadn't frozen or anything, though. I'd just scared him off as usual. "Um. So. It's. You know. It's late, so. You know. It's. Dangerous? To go out. And stuff."

"...I guess." 

"You should come in."

After time defrosted again, Natsume Youji nodded. "I'll just go and. Yeah. Leaving the bike there would be a bad idea. Just give me a couple minutes."

Why had he stopped? Why look back at my apartment? I couldn't kid myself about this one, no matter how much I wanted to. Just... why? 

He left. I gave him a couple minutes. Five minutes. Ten. 

By the time I began to cycle through the stages of grief in reverse, Natsume Youji showed up again, waving, grinning, like the sun, as he always seemed to be. "Sorry," he said. "It was a bit hard to know where to park, but I think I figured it out."

I nodded. To pass the time, I'd sit next to the door with my phone and another gacha (I also spent money on), but it seemed kind of lame now. I supposed it didn't matter. Natsume Youji walked into my apartment as though it didn't. I followed. Since he stopped without warning, I rammed against him. This would've been a golden opportunity to pretend to fall whilst gripping onto his arms so he'd topple on all fours above me just so we'd exchange passionate glances, and...

...anyway, that didn't happen. "Ow," I said, skidding away. "Sorry."

No response. 

"You can, um. Sit on the couch. If you want."

"Sure."

He did. It was getting hard to breathe again. Since I'd been the one to invite him, this shouldn't have been happening, but alas; I was a fool. Moreover, I'd forgotten I'd left my clothes scattered across the living room like avant garde decorations after I'd awoken an hour too late. If I kicked them below the sofa perhaps he wouldn't notice. Or maybe he did, and that's why he'd stopped. 

"Password? I'm still out of data."

"Oh. Right." After looking at my (new) phone, I recited the Wi-Fi code to him. Upon kicking clothes under the least suspicious places I could muster, I headed to the kitchen, which didn't really mean much since it had no division from the living room aside from a frame and the dining table. "Do you. Would you."

"I'm not hungry. Thank you."

"Okay."

Was it me or was he acting cold all of a sudden? Probably me. My stomach growled, but it didn't feel right to eat if he didn't, so I'd just bear with it like a grown-up. If I sat next to him on the couch I'd spontaneously combust and kill everyone by accident, so I chose a chair from the dining set instead. It was the one I'd sit on when we had omurice for breakfast. 

"Jun?" That was Natsume Youji. He spoke to someone on the phone. "Yeah, tell the rest I won't be showing up tonight. Sorry. Something came up."

Who was Jun? 

"...I don't know. No? Shut the fuck up."

Yes, Jun. Shut the fuck up.

"Early, probably. Yeah. He has to go to—" Natsume Youji ran his hand down his face right after he said this. Seriously, who was Jun? He hung up after that. He didn't take said hand off his face. Strategically, it hid him from me. 

"Uh... Youji? Is everything all right?"

While he visibly shifted in my direction, he didn't move his hand away. "I think. So you won't say my full name anymore?"

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

I knew what he meant, though. Honesty and stuff. Openness and stuff. I'd already invited him in; it was time to get him to trust me. That sounded terrible out of context. "Well. Fine. It was an, um... how to explain. Since you started calling me by my first name. I wanted to do the same, but it was kind of hard, so I thought I'd just say both names until I could only say one. Which was ten seconds ago."

"Right."

He said nothing after that. 

If Jun was Jun and I was Isao, then he was Youji. 

Youji said nothing after that. 

Why was he so quiet? He'd been like this ever since I did the stupid Tanaka shit. Well, only one way to find out: "Is something wrong?"

"Isao, are you being obtuse on purpose?"

I had to.

Stay strong.

I had to.

"No," I said, which was true, not for better but worse.

He still didn't show himself. Or reply. This was killing me. 

Let's see: with my extremely limited social skills, could I discern what was wrong by myself? He'd hidden his face after he talked to that Jun, so maybe something had embarrassed him? Or he'd accidentally told his boyfriend that he was about to stay at a random guy's house and hung up because he wasn't as good as communicating as I would've thought. Maybe. I couldn't just ask if he was single.

Yes I could. "Are you—"

No I couldn't. 

"Yes?" Urged Youji.

"S..." At this rate I'd be the one to hide my face. To say I danced next to the danger zone would be an understatement. Not even I was that dumb. Then again, I'd told him I didn't like men until the stupid Tanaka mistake. Then again again, I'd also told him I was lying about that, and that made him... mad... maybe? I really couldn't think of anything else I'd said that could be considered socially hazardous, but then again again again, it's not like I had much of a frame of reference.

When I finally looked up the table and at Youji, I found him staring at me. He didn't look away. "Come here," he said. 

"Why?"

"Guess."

"Uh. Um. Are you single?"

"Yes."

I stood up so fast the chair tumbled behind me, which only made it more obvious I'd smiled without thinking. This was awful. It had nothing to do with me. It was not okay. I'd invited him over because of his cannibal tyrant friends, because it was late and he could die, because... I didn't want to stop seeing him. 

I couldn't stop thinking about him. This sucked. "I'll. I. Bath. Ready. There's beer on the fridge." 

I fled. (To the bathroom.)