Souyo

When Yosuke calls him, Souji didn’t think it’d be this serious.

“Hey partner,” Yosuke says at his door. It’s winter and his cheeks are flushed like cherries. Souji would kiss them over and over if Yosuke would let him.

“Hey,” Souji says. He resists the urge to run his hands through Yosuke’s hair. Yosuke shuffles in quietly, and the door creaks shut behind him. It’s dark out, and the only twinkling lights are in the lamp posts.

“Sorry to call you so late,” Yosuke mumbles. His thick winter jacket stays zipped up to his chin. He stares at the ground, eyes unblinking.

“Don’t apologize.” Souji’s voice is soft. He raises a hand to Yosuke’s cold cheek, and Yosuke inhales, just barely. “What’s wrong?”

“...Can we go upstairs?” Yosuke asks.

“Of course,” Souji says.

The air is thick on their way to his room. Souji wants to say something, anything...but it feels like too much. Souji doesn’t like it. It feels hard to breathe and not in the way that Yosuke usually makes him feel.

Yosuke sits on the floor, arms relaxed across the table. Souji settles down across from him, and keeps a wary eye on Yosuke’s face.

“Tell me,” Souji says first. The silence is unbearable. He wants to hold Yosuke and kiss him on the lips and tell him that it’s going to be okay. But Souji doesn’t have the slightest clue what’s wrong, and it scares him. It scares him so bad and he hates that it does, because he has to be strong for the ones he loves. For Yosuke.

“Don’t hate me,” Yosuke whispers. His eyes are glassy and dewy with the beginning of tears. Souji’s chest squeezes inside him. “Just promise you won’t hate me.”

“Yosuke,” Souji breathes. He leans forward and brushes back Yosuke’s delicate bangs. “You know I could never.”

“You could,” Yosuke sobs.

“I love you,” Souji says immediately. It almost feels like too much but he doesn’t regret it. He could never regret saying that he loved him. “Don’t you know that?” He plants a soft kiss against Yosuke’s cheek. “Come on. You can tell me. I won’t judge.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Souji smiles, and Yosuke smiles back too.

“Okay,” Yosuke murmurs. “Okay.”

Souji holds Yosuke’s hands across the table, where they’re cold and trembling. Souji can’t say it, but he loves Yosuke. He loves him more than he will ever be able to say and he hopes that one day, one day he will come close to saying it.

Yosuke holds his gaze, mouth slightly agape, and speaks.

“I commited tax fraud.”

. . .

Souji blinks.

“Souji?” Yosuke says. “S-Souji?”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” Souji sighs. “You’re so fucking stupid.”