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Chapter Text

Genya has a crush. 

It came not as a surprise, not as revolutionary as the movies made it. It was a soft breeze against his cheek, tickling his nose and making his lips twitch— threatening to curl into a smile. There were no fireworks, no chirping birds, no rainbow hovering above the clouds. 

It was just Shinazugawa stealing a cold glass bottle from the kitchen’s refrigerator, the sugarcane juice sloshing in its amber confinement. 

He distinctly remembers popping the seal off, and sliding the balcony door open to have some time alone. 

All of his class assignments were complete, and his brother was out for tonight. Probably off to another drinking party with either friends or fellow teachers, just Sanemi things. 

One sip of the juice makes him cringe at the sweetness, but the second sip has him adjusted. It’s something that should be savored on a bright summer day, droplets of vapor dribbling off the glass bottle and the bright sunshine kissing his face. He can only imagine drinking this with someone, digging his toes into the golden sand as someone babbled their thoughts out beside him, underneath the shade of an umbrella. 

Summer . 

The radiant and sometimes overbearing heat, so bright that it’s scorching . 

There’s a smile that flickers through his memory, as well as brown eyes that when catching the sunlight— would appear more like golden crystals than chocolate. Freckle-speckled cheeks that flushed softly with a peachy pink, baby fat still present in the shape of their face. 

Genya has a crush. 

Their hair is yellow, similar to that of a dandelion with dew polishing its yellow petals. Golden locks choppy and messily ruffled, as if they had simply ran a brush through their hair and expected nothing more. Still, it’s silky.

Genya knows this, because he will never forget how soft the strands are when he unconsciously finds himself reaching for just a feeling . 

The boy sighs, a hand coming up to wipe at his eyes. Really though, he’s dumb for attempting to rub away the sight of Zenitsu’s goofy grin out of his vision. 

Zenitsu . 

Yeah, that’s the boy that’s been rotting his brain. The one that never fails to make Genya soft, his nerves feel like butter, and his eyes can’t help but focus on the way Zenitsu’s laugh rings like golden bells. It’s a shock how he hadn’t realized that he liked the brat until now. 

It must’ve been obvious from the instinct that every time his phone buzzes with a new message, it’s most likely Zenitsu. Whether it be a conversation starter or a random question, it always ends with a fairly sweet end. 

Genya always finds himself flustered at the simple yet cute “see you tomorrow!” that Zenitsu always charmingly sends when their conversations are complete. 

The ravenette takes another sip, his eyes drifting towards the bright lights in the distance. The car lights flicker, glow brightly. 

Genya has a crush. 

His name is Agatsuma Zenitsu, quite shorter than him and way more open with his emotions than Genya will ever be. Chipped nails and ink stained fingertips, he’s somewhat of a weirdo. 

A weirdo. 

A huge, definite weirdo. Mostly because of his affinity for odd interests, as well as the one time Genya had spotted a maid dress in the back of the blonde's closet. 

The ravenette hums to himself, swirling his bottle loosely with his chin sat atop of his unoccupied palm. 

If Zenitsu’s a weirdo, then Genya feels as if he’s just as weird for liking him. 

“Damn..” he mutters to himself, feeling his lips curling at the thought of seeing the blonde boy tomorrow. 

Probably with a fat stack of papers in his arms, uniform ruffled from lack of preservation, and a droplet of sweat running down his freckled cheek from all the running around that he does daily. The royal blue band around his upper arm has special embroidery, emphasizing his role in the Moral Committee. 

The ravenette finishes the glass bottle, licking his lips as he returns his attention to the city lights and energetic sounds that still seem to sound enchanting. 

Genya has a crush. 

But as the boy steps back into the apartment, sliding the balcony door closed and stretching to pop his back softly— he finds that he doesn’t mind. 

He likes this bubbly feeling. 

He likes Zenitsu. 

Genya plops the glass bottle on the kitchen counter, striding to his room to finally retire for the night. 

And somehow.. he’s sure that Zenitsu probably likes him too. 

Chapter Text

Zenitsu doesn’t really have crushes. 

It’s usually just attraction , finding quirks and appearances stunning. He doesn’t really see the appeal of a relationship, despite his constant fawning over Nezuko and all the pretty people on Kimetsu’s campus. 

Sure Tanjirou is pretty hot sometimes, and Daki is beautiful. 

Yet the concept of devoting himself to the idea of actually pursuing someone, it kinda scares him. 

It doesn’t make him immune to the thoughts of someone kissing up the bridge of his nose, or their lips grazing his own in a soft butterfly smooch. Maybe a hand clasped around his own, a thumb tracing his freckled cheeks and admiring his skin as if it were a night sky. 

His cheeks glow brightly at the thought of someone telling him that he’s the most handsome person in their world, or the most beautiful being that their eyes have ever seen. 

It doesn’t help that as of recently, that voice in his imagination calling him beautiful had drifted from Nezuko’s to a gruff but gentle tone. 

Zenitsu doesn’t really have crushes. 

Maybe his hesitancy to date stems from the past girls that manipulated every ounce of his soul, the hours scared that they’ll leave him when he knows that they will. There’s never avoiding getting left behind, but the wall he’s built around himself makes it easier on himself to not fall so hard. 

It’s cold, alone in the structure he had built around himself. 

He wants to blame the girls and boys alike that ruined his desires to sit down and put his trust in someone, to trust that they won’t pulverize his heart the minute he sets it in their palm. 

Zenitsu spoons a bit of raw honeycomb into his mouth, the stickiness distracting him from the thoughts. 

The beeswax immediately sticks to his teeth but the honey is so sweet that it’s almost acidic, but he likes it. Zenitsu always had a sweet tooth, enjoying the feeling of honey popping atop his tongue when he bites down on the raw honeycomb. 

It’s sticky beyond comprehension. To his fingers, tongue, teeth, and even his spoon. 

Kaigaku had sent the box of honey from the countryside, his older brother residing with the old man during his vacation. Lucky him . 

The boy smiles, kicking his feet back n’ forth as he sits at the dining table and enjoying the sun glimmering through the kitchen window. 

Zenitsu doesn’t really have crushes. 

Even as this is repeated, he can’t help but think about the memorable scent of vanilla. A fluffy mullet that made the boy in his imagination look like a furry wolf, but not the scary kind. 

He can’t help but close his eyes and trace the shape of Genya’s smile, and his shy quirks showing when Zenitsu compliments him. 

He can’t help but think about Genya grinning at him, a hand threading his hair and chattering about something dumb. 

The blonde spits out a piece of beeswax, the hardened texture resembling a piece of chewed up gum as he spoons up another bite of the honey. 

Usually he would get some bread, and swipe some of the honey on it. A cup of milk would go nicely with it as well, but Zenitsu got too hasty and immediately dug in. 

He feels impulsive. 

Zenitsu doesn’t really have crushes. 

He is impulsive. 

Because he let Genya under his skin, he let him become a part of his routine, a part of his daily life. He’s become a close contact, a close friend. 

The blonde feels his heart pound at the thought of the ravenette making his hand trace the structure of Zenitsu’s jaw, making his cheeks burn a bright red that could put tomatoes to shame.

Another bite of honeycomb immediately sets that thought ablaze, the blonde beginning to drift from imagination to reality. 

The reality is that he’s impulsive. 

He hasn’t realized just how close he’s let Genya in, he doesn’t understand that at any moment Genya could say “no” and Zenitsu would probably shed tears the size of gumballs.

It’s bittersweet to think about, to think about the power Zenitsu’s feelings have on himself. He blames his affection-starved personality, but he can’t help but find that it’s his own responsibility if he gets hurt again. 

He was impulsive on letting Genya in. 

A clump of beeswax is spat out atop of a piece of paper towel.

He was impulsive on showing Genya some of his most emotional sides. 

The pile of beeswax grows. 

He was impulsive on deciding that he’ll like Genya. 

Zenitsu doesn’t have crushes. 

The final bite of honey is strangely enchanting, the wooden spoon meeting the wooden box when Zenitsu realizes that he finished a whole box of honey all on his own. If he were younger, he would’ve probably had a sugar rush, followed by a headache. 

The blonde just sighs, licking his lips and swiping the syrupy mess off. 

Zenitsu doesn’t do crushes. 

He really doesn’t. 

He can’t. 

He just can't . 

Zenitsu has a crush. 

He can’t stop himself from having one, because Genya Shinazugawa makes himself feel as if even if the sentiment isn’t shared— it’s worth the heartbreak. 

It’s worth crying if it doesn’t work out, it’s worth being left behind. 

A distant part of him tells him to have hope, that Genya will probably be overjoyed if Zenitsu finds the courage to scrounge up a confession. 

Have hope . 

Zenitsu laughs, the spoon clacking against the wood when he plops the items in the sink. 

He’ll trust that part of him only this time, and for the first time in a while.