Miyano had always considered himself careful, careful about where he sat on the train, about the books he bought, and especially about what he read in public.

Which is why he had chosen the quiet corner of a cafe, noise-canceling headphones on, hot tea untouched, and a paperback with a deliberately vague cover resting innocently against the table.

The cover was quite obvious so he tried his best not to show it much, it was unmistakeably boys love, its not that he was ashamed but he wasnt open about this side of his, not much anyway.

Miyano was completely absorbed, cheeks warm, eyes darting across the pages, he was having a good time,really, until a shadow fell over the table.

“Interesting book.” He heard and immediatelly froze.

Slowly painfully slowly Miyano looked up and found you standing there, eyebrow raised, lips curved in a way that was far too amused to be harmless.

“I—!” He snapped the book shut so fast it almost slipped from his hands. “It’s not what it looks like.”

He watched you glance at the cover then back to him a few times.

His face burned, what was he supposed to say? It was very explicit after all, both the situation and the bl “Ok its exactly what it seems like but you weren’t supposed to see that.”