Nothing is too simple

Honesty

.o.

Haruto may be shocked by Junkyu's speech, but he doesn't let it show on his face. He just snickers, rearranging the books to settle under his other arm so he can lean on the book cart. “How's Mino?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Not worse, but not getting better.” Junkyu sighs, bowing chin to chest as he fiddles with a few books.

“C'mon...” Haruto's about to touch, but instead he places his hand on the metal of the cart next to one of Junkyu's hands. “Walk with me to that comfortable-looking chair I ogled before I came down this aisle.” He uses his head to point forward, ahead of where they stand.

Junkyu goes stiff as he realizes he had initialized a lot of this conversation with a complete stranger - one he really liked. He glances at his cart to see that he has books to shelve in that section. If he gets nervous or uncomfortable around Haruto, he can simply shelve or do a clean-up job of straightening. He attempts to give off a grin, but it looks pained because Junkyu feels the tension from it pull at his temples. He gestures his head for Haruto to take a first step in front of him, and he'll follow. He promises he will, but at a snail's pace, so no one thinks he's slacking or dawdling while on the clock.

Haruto turns at the last minute, not realizing Junkyu had placed himself in front of his cart now, so that they nearly bump into one another again. Haruto backs up, but not before he puts out an extended arm to hold Junkyu in place; this time he doesn't mess with any of the clothing. “I'm Haruto, by the way.” He knows Junkyu's already aware of his name, but it seems good form to introduce himself with a polite hand out to shake.

Junkyu stops short, startling at the feel of the warmth along his hip and waist, then looks at the large, strong hand being held toward him - chest level. “Junkyu.” He keeps his head bowed, though he slaps his palm against Haruto's in some semblance of decorum in a public setting. He immediately wants to drag his hand back, but Haruto's hold is tight, the fingers span in wide-stance that seem to have glued themselves to his skin.

Haruto can't help keeping his head bowed as well, but he's more intent on watching Junkyu's hand sink into his grip: the way the pale skin conforms within the span of his palm. Junkyu isn't tiny or small by any standards, but it's stunning to him that another man's fingers and hand could nearly disappear within his own.

Once both of them pull away from the handshake, they finally reach the open space where Haruto had spotted that comfy chair. Haruto goes to sit down, while Junkyu spins around his cart to bend and grab a few titles of books. Haruto places his stack on the shorter table near his left knee.

“You must really love working here or… Right?”

“Yeah. I don't buy books, so I just put them back...” Junkyu says shrugging.

“For a book lover, or someone who likes to read, this place has to be awesome.”

With his back to Haruto, Junkyu feels he can talk freely without feeling awkward or as if he has to put up a front. “People assume they'll spend their entire paycheck here. But you often don't once you begin to see the pure crap and overblown hyped writers that don't come anywhere close to the great classics of good literature.”

It's the most Haruto has ever heard Junkyu speak to him, without pauses or without hiding his face; he hates that it's only Junkyu's back he can see, but he'll take anything if it gets Junkyu to say more than a few sparse words. Haruto feels his heart race by hearing another whole dialog, uncut and coming directly from Junkyu's heart and mind.

“Would I be be all kinds of a fool to ask if you have a favorite book?" Haruto asks, in a soft tease.

Junkyu smirked, turning his head slightly to peek at Haruto. He didn't act surprised when he found those dark eyes connecting to his gaze. He clears his throat to take a long swallow of courage. “Do you have a favorite?” Junkyu throws that question out there instead.