#and therefore feels like he doesn't deserve any amount of love that he receives 8'D

[tenacquity]

If anyone could easily send Ryunosuke into a whirlwind of confusing emotions and keep him ever on his toes, it was typically Kazuma. One would think—given all that practice—he’d be a lot more equipped to deal with a similar nature in someone else, and yet… The present situation was doing a fine job of proving the young lawyer had much to learn: new terrains he needed to establish a footing in first before even attempting to walk.

Kaeya was—and perhaps always would be, Ryunosuke entertained—an entire puzzle of a man. Most of the time, as much as Ryunosuke desired to understand him intimately, he found himself running into one wall after another—as if each wall he managed to break through only made ten more rise up between him and that clarity: between him and knowing for certain what lived beneath a facade he’d at the very least learned Kaeya kept up in every interaction.

The Cavalry Captain strung him along on that thread of intrigue. He (somewhat shamefully) hung on to Kaeya’s every breath with the eagerness of any detective on the verge of solving a mystery—right there on that precipice, so close to finally reaching a conclusion only for the cliff to crumble beneath him and whisk him away ruthlessly. Because here, even in this moment, Ryunosuke felt like he was spiraling down an endless drop: one where he only on occasion would be upright, discerning anything going on around him, before the world turned upside down again.

Kaeya teased him—he always did. He had that knowing look on his face: a handsome smirk (it was no wonder he could charm most anyone he came across), a twinkle in his eye, a few well-placed statements on how fake their little “relationship” had been this evening as if he wanted to make that blatantly clear to Ryunosuke: Don’t get ahead of yourself. It was all for fun.

But, well. Who are you trying to convince with that? Ryunosuke wondered.

Something he’d suspected—one of the few aspects of Kaeya he’d grown to understand—became entirely clear: He lies to himself as much as he lies to everyone else… Doesn’t he?

Over the course of this well-practiced explanation, Ryunosuke felt his heart doing about a thousand different things: racing so fast it might as well jump out of his chest, screeching to a halt, tumbling down that chasm with him. Pink hopefully suited him; with how persistently warm his face felt, he assumed the color was well on its way to being permanent. As a hand roved over his waist, as those fingers became tender in their hold on his hand, Ryunosuke didn’t break eye contact. He searched the farthest reaches of Kaeya’s stare; he kept digging, digging, looking—

What are you so afraid of?

“Kaeya.” The word came out on a breath, somewhat of a prayer to the night breeze as Ryunosuke gathered the tattered remains of his composure. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t move an inch. He just stood there, a prolonged blink before meeting that eye again. “I— … You don’t have to—” A sigh seeped out, not at Kaeya, but at his own fumbling while he attempted to put his confusing thoughts (and feelings) into words. “You… know you’re allowed to feel things—right?” And he gave that hand another squeeze. “No matter what the other person’s ‘reaction’ might be… that doesn’t make anything you are feeling any more or less important.”

Finally, Ryunosuke moved. But not to leave Kaeya’s side. With their hands still intertwined, he led the captain forward, and thereafter pulled him into a quiet alley where the intimacy of their conversation was less likely to be heard.

“No, I suppose… you’re not wrong,” he confirmed then, casting a furtive glance to the main road to ensure no one had seen them. “But why you’re more concerned about my feelings as if they— As if you need permission to feel anything yourself… What did you expect me to do, exactly?” Ryunosuke pinned his gaze again, something stern but unmistakably compassionate burning in his eyes. “Reject you if my feelings didn’t line up with yours—? Kaeya, whatever you may be… Whatever we may be—now or in the future—you’re important to me. And I’d never turn my back on you for something as honest as… ‘matters of the heart.’”

His mouth slid into half of a smile: quaking ever so slightly at one side. “You didn’t need an excuse to say or do any of those… ah—things back there. Just for future reference.”

Given his ability to keep up with Kaeya to an impressive degree, Ryunosuke's fumbling in this moment spoke volumes. Kaeya could always find a way under one's skin if the desire struck; he could always read another well enough to turn the tide in his favor. Observation was one of his greatest strengths. Nothing escaped his notice.

Thus, in the moments after his calculated strike, the impish Captain caught the hitch in Ryunosuke's breath and the astonishment widening dark eyes. As his companion slowed to a stop, Kaeya's steps followed suit: keeping them locked in that orbit, dancing end-over-end in this game of cat and mouse. In the midst of his scrutiny—studying and memorizing every response he earned—Kaeya was struck by how charming Ryunosuke looked in his fluster. The mischief in his grin grew more pronounced the more he floundered.

"Hmm, well...Technically all of it was," Kaeya said with an easy shrug. "Surely I don't need to remind you that we're not, in fact, a couple." And while he didn't verbally acknowledge it, the gleam in his eye as he glanced down at their interlocked hands seemed to challenge that statement as much as the gesture itself.

"As I said: the main reason was to ensure the extension of our evening together. The second reason..." and he trailed off purposely, relishing in the drama, the anticipation of the pause— "...was to fluster you." Kaeya dipped inward with that admission, drinking in the swath of crimson that painted Ryunosuke's cheeks. "I'd say that was a resounding success.

"But if you want the truth?" Before that truth was even offered, those words felt foreign on his tongue. Bitter. Kaeya swallowed the taste; he wouldn't back down now. "I wanted to see how you would react. Onlookers have certain expectations when they think two people are a couple. If I were to speak about you that way, or touch you that way..."

Uncharacteristic for a man whose heart had long since fractured into shards of ice, his hold on the bend of Ryunosuke's fingers was gentle—even tender. Kaeya used it to tug him nearer. He stepped into his space, his opposite hand daring to cross that distance to settle at the curve of his waist.

"I can discern almost anything about anyone from the briefest conversation." His voice too had lowered; hushed not out of respect for the late hour, but for the preservation of this moment. Only for Ryunosuke to hear. "But I'm afraid that matters of the heart are where my talents find an abrupt end. I couldn't predict how you'd react."

Kaeya's thumb stroked over his knuckles—unconscious, almost hesitant. A coy smirk attempted to hide that uncertainty. "You still look like you want me to mean it. Am I wrong?"