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So, Kai had a problem.
It didn't seem like a big problem on a normal scale, but in his mind, it was the earth-shattering kind of problem that would make or break his mood for the next few months or so. That might be because he’s got a bit of a grudge problem, or…
Maybe it has something to do with the problem itself: his old roommate Damon Maitsu moving back into town.
He had been back for a while, leaving for some special program in a completely different country, leaving his entire life behind and uprooting it seemingly without a care in the world. Kai felt like that was incredibly irresponsible and stupid for someone like Damon, who had always seemed like the rational one in the apartment between them.
(He liked to pretend the internship Damon got wasn't as advantageous as it truly was for him, it gave him more of a reason to be upset. Otherwise, he started feeling as though his feelings were invalid to some degree, which… isn't ideal.)
Kai was the more emotional one, and Damon was the logical one. It was how it was, how it would've been forever if Damon had not left without a proper goodbye. It was mean, leaving Kai alone with around 3 months left on their apartment lease.
He chooses to ignore the fact that Damon had left the rent money on the kitchen counter in an envelope, rather than a written note or acknowledgment that he was leaving Kai. The fact he left was a betrayal enough, but the lack of care was simply the icing on the cake. Did their years of companionship mean nothing to him? Did he not consider their relationship as important as Kai did?
He hated Damon. The guy was cold, to the point of cruelty occasionally. Intended or not, he often ended up leaving casualties in the wake of his words. It made him good at arguing in all senses. Debates, research papers, personal issues… he could do it all.
Okay, so he didn't hate Damon. He wanted to though– that had to count for something. Right?
But regardless of all of that, he was back.
And Kai was not happy about it in the slightest.
_____
It started over something really stupid. Room spray.
The kind that freshens up the smell of a room? Masks the scent if the air smells a bit stale? That kind.
Kai had the idea to spray some in the living room since a couple of old classmates were coming over, and he wanted to lift a bit of the natural funk the apartment just couldn't shake, for some reason. It was the furniture, probably. The shitty second-hand stuff came from a thrift store since the two of them were broke college students who didn't need to be spending hundreds of dollars on new furniture when the cheap stuff worked out fine. It just had a bit of an unfortunate smell.
It was incredibly minor, all things considered. But it sparked an argument when Damon got home from work that night. His face screwed up slightly as he sniffed the air, not even bothering to take off his shoes before coming out of the apartment entryway.
Kai could tell he had an awful day at work. Typical, he was working overtime for more money. When asked about why, he simply responded that there “wasn't anything wrong with wanting more money for the savings” which wasn't anything to argue with. So, Kai had left it be.
But it meant Damon was around less than he previously was, and usually highly irritable. After the two of them had become somewhat of unlikely friends and roommates, Kai had learned how to work with Damons' irritability. It was nothing, considering he learned how to work with Kai’s depressive episodes. They figured out how to coexist and help each other relax, or feel better. They were friends.
Ever since Kai gave up on befriending his brooding roomie, it was as if the other decided he would start making more of an effort to befriend him. Or at least, be cordial.
The friendship was some sort of fun addition, one that neither of them seemed to mind too much. Especially on the late nights when they both felt like shit, cuddling together on the couch in some unspoken promise of physical comfort, despite Damon's previous aversions to his touch.
Kai wasn't complaining though. A warm body to sleep with, especially with the safety being with Damon provided, wasn't all that bad.
Well, he wasn't complaining until Damon started becoming increasingly unreasonable when he came home. They argued rather often, leading to less and less of those soft moments spent simply holding each other in the dimmed lights of the apartment, listening to each other's heartbeats as the TV droned in the background.
It sent a sharp pang through his chest each time he remembered those moments, longing for them.
Tonight was one of those nights where Kai could just tell there was some impending issue that was going to be brought up, resulting in a screaming match. So, he did what he did best and cracked a joke to attempt to ward off the sour mood settling into the air.
“Welcome home honey, unfortunately, I haven't had the time to cook a full course meal on account of all the cleaning I've been doing, but I'll get on it eventually!” He grins, leaning into the housewife sort of persona he looked the part of currently. With a handkerchief tied around his head to push back his hair, he felt he fit the role well. He even snapped a cute picture earlier to post on his story, to which his fans agreed with his assertion. He hated wearing things on his head, covering his hair other than hoodies but… he had to admit – he looked pretty damn good.
Damon wasn't interested in his breaking the atmosphere though, more content to sit in the irritation rolling off him in waves. He laughs dryly. “Yeah, okay. The whole damn apartment smells like someone threw up bouquets, no need to lean that far into the bullshit aesthetic.” It was their usual banter, but something about it felt bitter. It made Kai's smile twitch slightly.
“Hey! If you're not a fan of the housewife you can clean on your own, Cinderella.”
After a pause, he adds a spritz of the spray in his hand. Something from the department store, strong enough to mask the smell.
“Plus, you know the couch smells. If we're gonna have company again I refuse to hear all the commentary about the shitty couch smell.”
Damon crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes. He mumbles something under his breath, walking into the kitchen.
His irritation seeps under Kai's skin easily. He’s always been a bit of an empath– to a fault. It often led to his detriment, unfortunately.
But… rather than pick a fight like he wants to; he can't push down the concern ebbing in his thoughts. As previously stated,– he knows Damon. He knows him well enough to note when he is acting off. And instead of biting back with another comment about his social media presence, the other simply walked away.
It wasn't a good sign. And he cares about Damon– more than he'd care to admit thank you very much. Damon cared about him enough to be featured in his videos for his various socials despite having a very minor presence online, and that meant something to Kai. So, rather than calling upon the anger very obviously threatening to come to boil– he treads lightly.
Following Damon to the kitchen, he leans on the doorframe. For a moment, he doesn't say anything– just watches as Damon heats some takeout from the night before and stares blankly at the microwave. The guy who always warns Kai against his childlike urges to get up close and stare into the microwave screen, reminding him to “think of his already deteriorating eyesight– pulling off glasses won't be good enough when they're 4 inches thick with glass.:” That guy was sat staring at the microwave with tense shoulders and a stare blank enough that anyone who had not witnessed the earlier intensity of his gaze would have thought was his default expression.
But not Kai.
He pauses for a moment, attempting to organize his thoughts before trying to speak.
“Um– Damon...?” He stutters slightly, which is more than he wanted to. He would prefer no stuttering actually– damn his nerves betraying him!
There's no response, so he tries again, stepping closer.
“Damon… are you–”
The most unexpected thing happens at that moment.
Damon leans his head on Kai’s shoulder.
He freezes– not sure how to approach this situation. It was unfamiliar territory– extremely unfamiliar. The only times either of them initiates physical affection is under the cover of darkness, and never do they talk about it. If anyone would initiate it during the day, it was more likely to be Kai.
But at this moment, something is amiss with Damon. Something Kai isn't sure he should press. So he just stands there, wrapping his arms around Damon’s neck and holding him close. He feels arms encircling his waist in return.
The intimacy of the position isn't lost on Kai, he isn't sure about Damon though– more focused on the heat rising to his cheeks, the warmth flooding through his bones. Any irritation is washed away by concern and warmth for the man in his arms.
It's okay to choose your battles sometimes.
Kai wishes he chose that one, wishes he pushed a little at the withered defenses. Wishing he asked what the matter was.
But he didn't. Instead, he was left alone in the apartment in the morning with an envelope full of rent money with his name on it, a knitted oversized sweater, and a deeply rooted feeling of betrayal in his heart.
______
He doesn't get a text or a call with the news from Damon that he's back in town. No– that would be too direct. Instead, he gets an earful from Diana at 7 in the morning with news of his return.
“Kai-Kai! Did you hear Damon's back? How are you feeling? Have you talked to him yet? I can always ask Eva to get you guys to meet up you know, talk things out–”
He figured he would hear the news secondhand. He also learned the reasoning for Damon's disappearance secondhand—from Wenona, of all people. Christ.
“Oh. You haven't heard? Didn't you live with the guy…? Anyways. He’s off studying under a prominent politician for an internship. It's a coveted position– figures he got the hell out when he could.”
Damn, Wenona and her logical lines of questioning. He had the same question– how was he essentially the last to know of his roommate's whereabouts? What kind of sick prank was that?
(He knew Damon wasn't the kind to play pranks. He didn't like what options that left though– that he didn't care about Kai. Not really. He didn't block his number but did not answer his texts either. For someone usually so direct, it signaled something that left a heavy weight in Kai's chest.)
____
He ends up catching sight of Damon at the grocery store, of all places.
It wasn't a good day for him, so he was wearing a hoodie from his college days, hood pulled up to shadow his face from any potential recognition. Fans were pretty rabid, and they were everywhere– an unfortunate testament to his success in his influencer career.
He stood in the candy aisle, a crumpled list in his hand as he decided on what his poison of the week would be to indulge himself. He was between gummy bears and coffee-flavored chocolates when he noticed a flash of blonde in his peripheral vision.
On instinct, he glanced over. It was a force of habit okay– and it had him feeling like a puppy awaiting its owner's return. Pathetic of him, but it was familiar at this point. It had been a bad habit ever since Damon left– the radio silence had him thinking there was some sliver of hope that the other could return at any given moment.
And you know, sometimes hope is good to have.
Because who else was it when he turned his head, other than Damon fucking Maitsu standing at the other end of the aisle, looking at bakeware.
Damon couldn't even fucking bake– he was hopeless in the kitchen besides the basics to keep himself alive. Kai feels a twinge of jealousy at the sight– who was he getting that for? If anyone? Did he learn to bake in his absence? What else did Kai miss out on after he was left in the dark?
He can't bring himself to move, just staring down the only other person in the aisle with him, conflicting emotions swirling in his brain. He was shocked at the domesticity of the sight– Damon grocery shopping. They used to do that together, but Kai would always turn it into a competition. It was never as domestic as this.
What is there to do? Should he talk to him? Walk away? If he talked to him– god, what would he even be able to say? It was unfamiliar territory for Kai, his words rarely failed. If they ever did, there was always some bullshit spur-of-the-moment thing he could pull out to fill the silence.
But he didn't have anything to say this time.
So he just walked away, grabbing the biggest bag of coffee chocolates he could find.
God, he felt like such a coward. But what was there to do? Was it even his responsibility to fill the silence Damon left him with? Would he even give Kai the time of day?
It was a lot to think about, a lot to stomach. So instead of thinking about it properly, after he checks out, he gets into his car, blasts some shitty pop music–
And he cries.
___
After a particularly grueling fan meet and greet, Kai finds himself out in an alleyway. It had been a few weeks since that awful day at the grocery store, and he had been more aware of his surroundings than ever. He felt unable to let his guard down for the fear he could turn a corner and Damon would be there was real in his mind. He wasn't sure how to deal with it.
But he was dealing! Not particularly well, but he was, in fact, dealing.
He takes a drag from his cart, a habit exacerbated by his acquaintances after he started making more public appearances at parties to make up for his month or so of radio silence after realizing he was probably alone for good. It kind of helped his nerves and made him a little sleepy. It wasn't the worst thing in the world to be caught using. At Least it wasn't something shitty like a juicy pear-flavored vape– a favorite on the influencer scene. Gross.
He takes another hit, blowing smoke into the night. No cool tricks, no little shapes. Just taking a minute to himself.
He thinks he might be a little too high because he hears a door open nearby. Footsteps, then a very familiar voice.
“You smoke now?”
Really? He would’ve almost preferred if Damon noticed him in the fucking candy aisle at the grocery– not indulging in some shitty habit he picked up to calm himself.
“Oh, so we’re talking now?” He sneers, not even glancing at Damon. The anger simmering under his skin could probably light him on fire just out of spite alone. He almost wishes he could– thinks it's what he would deserve after everything he went through.
Damon sighs, footsteps indicating he is getting closer to Kai. He stubbornly looks up at the sky, intending to keep it that way. He takes another hit– a longer one this time. It might be out of spite for the smoking comment or to calm his nerves– maybe a little bit of both.
Most importantly, it was to calm his heart. It was far too fast and intense for his liking.
He had come to terms with the fact he cared for Damon more than a friend did– was well aware that he had left a permanent scar on his heart. But he didn't want to admit that– not yet. He didn't deserve that admission when he simply happened to find him in an alleyway after a meet and greet– likely out of chance.
He doesn't grace Damon with a response. Running his fingers through his blonde hair (which was much shorter cropped than Kai remembered– it looked good on him) and fixed Kai with a look. A fairly intense look at that– reminiscent of the one from when they last spoke but without the clear irritation behind it. It was more like… determination?
“Look, Kai.” He starts, taking a breath. “I know you're upset with me–”
“For good reason.” Kai quips, unable to keep himself from making a snide remark.
“Okay– yeah for good reason.” He concedes, sighing heavily. “But I wanted to talk with you. Not to win your forgiveness, I know how far I am from that– but to just… talk.”
Kai finally looks at him with narrowed eyes. Gold meets Emerald as their gazes lock.
Kai’s resolve melts slightly. God, he missed having Damon's full attention like this. He had nearly forgotten the feeling, how he delighted in the warmth that rushed over him when he felt those sharp eyes on him. But the way they looked now– they were far from the sharp eyes Kai remembered. They looked tired.
He holds back his comment about the exhaustion behind those eyes. “You want to talk?” He asks. “Then talk. You left me in radio silence for almost four fucking years– you better have the best explanation ever as to why you couldn't manage a text back minus the birthday wishes.”
(It made him extremely giddy, those birthday wishes. Each year without fail, he received a “Happy Birthday, Kai.” at exactly midnight on November 3rd each year. It was one of the few moments where he felt a flicker of something– something telling him that Damon did still care. That he always had.)
Damon scratches behind his right ear– a nervous tic of his. It brought Kai far too much joy that he still made Damon nervous, even after nearly four years, he could make Damon nervous.
“I… I got an internship. And it sort of spiraled from there.”
With the resounding raise of an eyebrow, Damon continues. “A lot happened okay– I didn't talk too much of anyone other than my boss and his secretary, I was–” He pauses abruptly.
Kai doesn't get it, not until he sees the blotchy pink of Damon's cheeks.
“Is… that my sweater?”
Well, fuck him! Kai swears at every single deity to exist for his choice to wear this sweater on this day. It wasn't even a conscious choice— Damon's sweater had just become a part of his wardrobe at this point. He needed a sweater to layer over his outfit for the meet and greet and the dark green had just caught his eye and fit the vibe.
“I– It wasn't a conscious choice!” He feels his own face heating, and suddenly he can't meet Damon's gaze anymore, looking to the side and covering his mouth with his cringe at the wording– God, he sounded positively ridiculous, admitting it was a part of his wardrobe rotation like that. He had literally folded under like– zero pressure. This was so embarrassing.
They stand in silence for a minute, neither knowing what to say.
Kai blames the weed for his slip-up. He needed to cool it with how many hits he was taking, especially in public.
He speaks up after a while, still not meeting the others' gaze. “I— Damon, I–” he tries. “Damn it.”
Damon raises an eyebrow, looking at him again, face still pink. Kai isn't looking back at him. “What do you mean, damn it?”
And Kai doesn't know how to explain this one. There's only so much you can blame on being under the influence.
But he practically falls into Damon's arms, who catches him instinctively, arms tightening around him. He just holds on to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. He hasn't changed it after all this time– figures. He was always a fan of keeping things the same.
The thought makes Kai unreasonably more desperate, clinging to Damon in the shadows of the alleyway like he was the last life preserver in an unrelenting ocean. And maybe he was.
“God, Damon. I just… missed you.” He whispers, admitting it like a secret. A fairly obvious secret, but a secret, nonetheless. It takes everything in him not to burst out crying right then and there.
He feels Damon's arms tighten even more around him, holding him. Keeping both of them steady.
“I... missed you too. So, so much. You have no idea how much I missed you.” The admission rushes out of him as if he was punched in the gut. Kai still kind of wants to do that– sucker punch him in the gut for everything.
But the bigger part of him wants to hear him out. See if this grudge is worth keeping.
Because that admission– that he was missed– did things to him.
“Damon…” He breathes, so quietly it's almost lost in the sounds of the city night. He pulls back slightly, to see his face again, to commit every single detail to memory once again because the older pictures don't do this new Damon justice.
He doesn't reply, but pulls back slightly, studying the man in his arms right back. And then– he does something that Kai truly would have never expected from him.
He leans in and captures his lips. He does it so quickly, so smoothly– it makes him think this isn't the first time Damon has done something like this.
It isn't his first time either, but it doesn't stop the slightly possessive hand from creeping to feel the cropped blonde hair and pulling him in further, a little harsher than intended.
And it's everything Kai has ever wanted, everything he has been craving since day one. Those lips, the ones that can spit fire, locked on his own.
He has a sudden realization, pulling back slightly. A strand of spit connects their mouths, and he has to hold himself back from chasing his lips. Damon's brows furrow in an adorably confused expression.
“Just– don't think this means I forgive you.” He feels the need to clarify, just in case this moment of utter weakness and overindulgence comes back to bite him in the ass.
But Damon just gives him a wry grin. “Wouldn't dream of it, Kai.”
The way his name falls from those lips makes him want them even more, so he shuts up and captures them again, this time with more intensity than before.
Things aren't okay, they won't be for a while. But the soft fabric of the knitted sweater and the feeling of Damon makes him think that maybe– just maybe– he can find it in himself to let go of that stubborn urge to make him pay.
But then again, he wouldn't be Kai Monteago if he didn't make Damon work for it. So, he’s content with his position for now, content in knowing that after this, Damon will probably drive him home or to wherever he’s staying for the moment and make sure he’s okay– check up on him. Explain everything.
Maybe, just maybe, he can restore his faith in Damon and beat down the beast of betrayal creeping into the corners of his mind.
Maybe they can do better, this time.