"Ow," he said mildly, too tired to have any other reaction.
"Sorry." Keiko scooted the table back to let him stretch his legs out to their full length.
"Don't rearrange your house on my account," he said, not lifting his head from where it rested on the back of the sofa.
"No, that's not what I'm sorry about. I mean, sorry you stubbed your toe on my table, but - " She sighed, sitting on the sofa next to them. It wasn't a very large sofa - a glorified armchair, really - and Kuwabara could feel the warmth of her skin against his arm. "I'm sorry about today."
"Not your fault the local shitheads don't know how to take a hint," he said, waving a hand as though to clear the apology from the air.
"It shouldn't be your job," she insisted. "It should - "
She cut herself off, and without looking Kuwabara knew she had her lips pressed tightly together, staring down at where her hands were clasped in her lap. It was the expression she got every time Yusuke came up in conversation, especially with regards to his absence.
"I know," Kuwabara said gently. "But I'm here, and I'm not gonna let you deal with this by yourself."
There was a long moment where Keiko didn't say anything. Then Kuwabara's eyes flew open as she jostled his arm out of the way to curl up against his side.
"Keiko?" he murmured, freezing in place. She remained silent, just tucking her head into his chest.
Kuwabara swallowed. Where her cheek was resting she had to feel how his heart was working overtime, a staccato beat for the ball of anxiety bouncing around his stomach. He'd always known he liked Keiko; she was tougher, smarter and braver than any three guys he knew put together. It was hard not to be drawn to that. He hadn't realized he liked her until about six weeks into their regular visits with each other.
If he was being honest with himself, it had been way longer than that. Way, way longer. But she was Yusuke's girl, always had been. And he'd had Yukina, at least until her search for her brother consumed her to the point he couldn't follow her anymore.
And now Yusuke wasn't here. Kuwabara was. Keiko was. Very specifically here on this sofa, Keiko curled up against Kuwabara with her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. Her warmth against him was almost blistering, even without taking into account the flush he knew was crawling up his neck.
Slowly, cautiously, he lowered his arm around her shoulder. He shouldn't. He knew he shouldn't. Keiko was Yusuke's girl.
But Yusuke wasn't there.
Keiko curled against him even more, lifting her head to rest it in the crook of his neck. Holding her this way he could feel her trembling, just a fine tremor running through her.
"Keiko?" It was barely even a murmur, his voice feeling a million miles away.
"I miss him," she responded in kind. Kuwabara felt his heart sink and immediately cursed himself. Of course she missed him. She just needed comfort because her boyfriend - her boyfriend - was away and she was lonely. He was an idiot, and he minced no words telling himself so.
All that made it out of his mouth, thankfully, was a quiet "I know."
Keiko sat up, still in the circle of his arm, and he finally looked over at her. "But he's not here." That tremor had entered her voice, however firm it sounded otherwise. Like she was trying to project confidence she didn't feel. Kuwabara honestly wasn't sure where his familiarity with Keiko ended and his emotional resonance began, but he felt that tremor start in his own chest, as well.
"No," was all he could get out.
"He left me." She shook her head. "He left us."
"Yeah."
There was a look in her eyes that charged the air between them. They were on the precipice of something, some yawning chasm beneath them that he desperately wanted to throw himself into despite knowing he wouldn't survive the fall.
"We don't owe him anything." It was practically a whisper, only their proximity letting Kuwabara even hear the words. He didn't respond. Couldn't, in the face of whatever force was growing between them.
Keiko laid her hand on his leg. Sat up, facing him more fully.
Kuwabara realized what she was doing an instant before she did it, and reached over to lay his hand atop hers. She stopped mid-motion, close enough that he could feel her breath against his cheek.
"This is..." He stopped, swallowed around the lump in his throat. "If we..."
Keiko's other hand came up to rest on his cheek, feather-light. Her fingertips were each an inferno against his skin, searing straight through and branding him where no one could see.
"I know."
Kuwabara leaned in and kissed her.
