Kenta couldn’t have asked for someone more understanding than Iroha. He didn’t mind how their dates were squeezed into the awkward afternoon hours before work or how Kenta tasted like coffee from the two cups he’d drink so he wouldn’t yawn through them. Three weeks together and four hiking dates later, Kenta couldn’t believe how each one turned out better than the last. Well, maybe not blow-job-in-the-woods good but good in a different way.

Anytime Iroha grabbed Kenta’s hand, a warmth would spread through his body, and anytime he closed his eyes, he’d see himself strolling down a mountain path with Iroha for years to come. Maybe it was silly to think like that after only a few weeks together, but anyone who put up with how often Kenta stopped to take a picture of bugs had to be a keeper.

“Iroha!” Kenta waved, spotting Iroha outside the train station.

Iroha always stood out with his long hair and punk clothes, and with Kenta dressed for work, they’d no doubt be getting a few odd looks. Kenta doubted he’d even notice.

Iroha swirled his sucker around in his lush lips. The gesture went straight to Kenta’s cock. Kenta swore Iroha found even more suggestive things to do with the candy. Kenta licked his lips. Maybe the next date he could convince Iroha he wanted to finish the painting he’d started. Then they could move onto the bed.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” Iroha asked.

Kenta crossed his arms. “If I told you, it would spoil the surprise.”

“I liked all your surprises so far, so I’m sure I’ll love this one too.”

Kenta hoped Iroha’s words would stay true. All their dates had been things Kenta liked, and he’d made a special effort to come up with something Iroha might enjoy.

The art museum was hosting an exhibition of an artist whose work took Kenta’s breath away. Kenta had even managed to snag tickets for her interview. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Iroha’s face.

“Come on, it’s this way,” Kenta said.

They made their way down the busy sidewalk. Urban hiking might’ve offered less opportunity for bug photos, but Kenta enjoyed it nonetheless.

“How many different art colonies did you go to?” Kenta asked.

Iroha pushed up his glasses. “Why do you ask?”

“You talk about them a lot. You must’ve really liked your time there. I was curious.”

Iroha had been guarded talking about himself, but anytime he talked about his stay at an art colony, his eyes would light up, his hands would start moving, and Kenta would finally feel the warmth of them connecting.

Iroha let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I don’t mean to blab on about them.”

“I like it.” Kenta reached out, wanting to take Iroha’s hand, but they were in public. Kenta could only hope his words would express the longing pulling at his heart. “I want to know everything about you.”

Iroha stopped, his cheeks darkened, and his eyes shined with an unmistakable glimmer. Happiness, relief, whatever they spoke clutched at Kenta’s heart, and he knew Iroha wouldn’t hurt him.

“I want to know everything about you too,” Iroha said, words steady, slow, but Kenta didn’t need to hear them to know Iroha felt the same.

They walked in silence. Their steps in sync, one after another. Kenta’s heart thumped out a steady rhythm of hope with no doubt that Iroha’s was beating the same.