#elley duhe def didnt help with making this reply

[foraltruism]

Leave it to alcohol to either give Natsuya a ton of courage and spirit, or knock him out cold. At least this time he wouldn't have to help him back to his apartment or call his precious little brother to pick him up too, or so he hopes. Right now he couldn't quite imagine going home, not when he's giving Natsuya a gentle smile, one that screams 'finally,' as if he was waiting for him to make a real move on him.

He doesn't feel like he needs to hide himself or hold himself back if Natsuya isn't anymore, even if he was currently shouting in his face about being serious. It makes his gentle smile widen more.

"Is that so...?"

He murmurs teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, matching Natsuya awkwardly rubbing his neck and hair. How many times had he wished he could openly do so instead of when he'd catch the other sleeping? Perhaps that day will be soon, he thinks to himself stepping closer.

"Give me a time and date. Are you picking me up, or will I be meeting you?"

That's definitely a yes.

That Nao…Calling him out like that! A blush rises to colour the apples of his cheeks in bright crimson, gaze averting to the side because, even after all this time being best friends, Natsuya’s heart still beats ten to the dozen against his ribcage, even though Nao seemed…Open to the idea of a real date?

“‘Kinda, I needed the Dutch courage in all honesty.”

A sheepish smile crosses his countenance then, referring to the several bottles of beers he’d downed – Just enough to muster said courage, but not enough to reduce him into a babbling mess and ruin the entire thing.

“Of course I’m taking you somewhere fancy, I’m serious about this Nao!”

Natsuya almost shouts his response directly at Nao’s face, as if the increased volume would somehow empathize his genuine desire and investment in taking his friend out on a real date…Finally, after years of suppressing his feelings and pretending even to himself that he wasn’t desperately pining after the other.

“So…” Sliding a hand round the back of his head, fingers awkwardly thread through thick brown tendrils.

“Is that a yes?”