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Published:
2025-05-30
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1/1
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I won't deny I've got in my mind now (all the things I would do)

Summary:

“Shishikuno, are you busy?” comes a rasp around midnight as Ren sits quietly on the balcony, stargazing. Sleepless nights are frequent to him, but having company is new.

 

“...No, I'm not busy. Why?”

 

Noir grins, tugging the edge of his scar across his face with it. “Goin’ for a smoke run to the konbini. Wanna tag along?”

Notes:

woo!! ren/noir content!! i will feed this fandom one fic at a time, i swear it. ren spends most of this fic experiencing something between cuteness agression and murder aggression, so. ya

title from talk by hozier

say hi on tumblr! @itsyaboy-mars

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Shishikuno, are you busy?” comes a rasp around midnight as Ren sits quietly on the balcony, stargazing. Sleepless nights are frequent to him, but having company is new.

 

“...No, I'm not busy. Why?”

 

Noir grins, tugging the edge of his scar across his face with it. “Goin’ for a smoke run to the konbini. Wanna tag along?”

 

Shishikuno Ren has never wanted anything.

 

Well—he considers—his eyes drop to the curve of Noir's waist. He hadn't wanted anything before.

 

“Alright,” he decides all at once, "I'll meet you outside,” and he ducks back inside to splash his face with water and have a quick identity crisis. He's been getting a lot of practice in with those, and he's becoming very efficient at them. It might be the first skill he acquired all on his own.

 

Noir blends into the night with his inky ensemble. His hair seems to glow, though, and those eyes make Ren shiver a bit. Noir is leaned against the railing by their doors, and he looks up with a lopsided grin when Ren closes his front door behind him carefully. Mogari is a deep sleeper when he isn't being attacked, but he won't risk it just to gallivant at night like a rebellious teen.

 

God. Is this his rebellious phase? He nearly smiles at the thought.

 

“What's got you riled up like that?” Noir asks, leading him down the stairs to the quiet road. The cold lights of the konbini glow in the distance like a beacon. It's a sight he never would have seen on the mountain.

 

Ren clicks his tongue. He barely raised the corner of his mouth, yet he hates how easily Noir saw it. Being known is a slow and terrifying process.

 

“I was just admiring a new experience. I grew up sheltered, so to speak.”

 

Noir shrugs and keeps both hands lax in his pockets as he walks. It's foolish to leave himself unprepared in the face of someone dangerous, but Ren comes to a startling realization: all his knives are at home. He hadn't thought twice about going somewhere isolated in the dead of night with Noir, unarmed. It's pathetically close to trust.

 

His ribs feel uncomfortably tight. There's not a single reason for him to trust someone who could turn that heavy cross into a weapon at any moment, but he does. The realization is paired with the sharp, bright rush of cold air from the konbini interior. Noir is off in an instant, talking to the clerk and getting his cigarettes. Ren trails behind, fingers hovering over a bottle of tea from a brand he's been fancying in his newfound free time.

 

Noir looks over his shoulder, card out, and sees his hesitation. He gives a charming grin to the worker, jogs up behind Ren, and reaches past him to snag the bottle by the lid. He finishes paying for their items before Ren can unstick himself from his shock.

 

“Thank you,” he breathes as they step back out into the dark.

 

“Hm? What for?” he receives in response as Noir twists the top off to sip from the bottle as Ren sputters. He gives Ren another sly smirk and hands it over, rolling the cap over his fingers into Ren's palm.

 

The concept of another man's spit around the lip of his drink should be disgusting. It really should be.

 

He makes heavy eye contact with Noir as he takes a sip of his own, lips placed right where Noir's had been.

 

It must be the right answer to Noir's strange games, because he licks his lips and hums to himself. 

 

Ren knows very little, admittedly. He knows the quickest and slowest ways to kill a man, he knows that he owes his life to his father, and he knows that he likes the taste of raspberry tea mixing with just a trace of saliva.

 

The simmering in his chest is not something he knows, but it's not altogether unpleasant.

 

They walk back to the apartment complex in mutual silence, pausing by their respective doors. Ren doesn't know how to articulate the buzzing in his fingertips. Noir watches him, searching for something undefinable.

 

“Night,” Noir finally says, voice low. 

 

Despite the goodbye, they meet back out on their balconies mere minutes later. Ren slides the door shut and leans back against it. Cigarette smoke dances along the skyline, tracing waves into his eyes.

 

“Why did you invite me out?” he asks after a silence marked by Noir's inhale and exhale of nicotine.

 

Noir himself has his elbows on the railing, head tilted back to watch the stars.

 

“You're pretty good company, that's all. Been a while since I felt like someone could keep up with me.”

 

Of course Ren can keep up with him. His carotid artery is on full display and Ren could end his life with a bottle cap. He doesn't say this, of course.

 

“Besides,” Noir continues, drawing Ren's eyes to the smoke licking at the curves of his mouth, “clearly you've got some important gaps in your knowledge. I'm happy to teach you.”

 

Ren smiles drily. “How bold. What, pray tell, do you wish to show me?”

 

Warm features are suddenly inches from his. Noir leans into the gap between balconies. “Ah,” he gasps dramatically, "I can't quite get close enough for what I have in mind. You'd have to come over here. What a shame.”

 

Shishikuno Ren does not do impulses. He is a tool to those he owes, and he is honorable about that. He conducts himself with poise.

 

…However, he did swear he would try new things.

 

He hops the railings easily, landing nose to nose with Noir with a huff.

 

“Close enough?” he teases, reveling in the way Noir stumbles and drops his cigarette.

 

Noir shoves his fringe back in what may be a nervous tell, but rises to the challenging tone. “Flexible, mm?” 

 

He leans back, just enough to have his company pouting. “Don't go forgetting I'm not a woman again.”

 

Noir's hands settle on his hips. ”Oh, pretty thing, I promise I'm not.”

 

And well. No one's ever called him pretty so genuinely before. Ren tentatively grabs Noir's jaw in both hands and pushes up to meet him.

 

Ren has been to a wedding before. Arranged, of course, and the kiss looked plastic and stiff.

 

Noir kisses him like a crashing wave, and there is nothing arranged about it. He's unpredictable, and he's glorious. 

 

In a space between breaths, Ren manages to murmur, “You taste like tobacco. It's unpleasant,” instead of voicing his immeasurable pleasure. If he were a cat he'd be purring.

 

Up close like this, Ren can see the sharp tilt of Noir's teeth when he grins. 

 

“Sucks for you. I'm kissing someone who tastes divine,” Noir says, craning his neck back down to chase his lips.

 

“I should smother you in your sleep.”

 

That bastard's smile stays pressed right against him, slipping to his jaw and throat. “Mm, so long as you do it with those legs I wouldn't complain.”

 

Ren considers the distance from the balcony to the dumpster. He then considers the distance from his tongue to Noir's mouth, and decides the murder can always come later.

 

Notes:

comments are my favorite thing ever btw <3