Chapter Text
The morning sunlight poured through the grand windows of Sendou’s apartment, casting a golden wash over the sea of half-open boxes and bubble wrap. The air smelled like cardboard, cleaning products, and faintly… home.
Aiku balanced a box on his hip labeled “Books + Nerd Shit.” He stared in shock at how many bulky, handmade cookbooks occupied Sendou’s bookcase. He shot a grin over his shoulder, “Your bookcase is overflowing already. You sure I’m not moving into a bookstore?”
Sendou couldn’t help but snort from where he was meticulously organizing new powders into his spice rack.
“It’s easier for me to make recipes if I write them down. Unless, you would rather your lovely baker lack variety?”
Aiku chuckled as he placed the box next to said bookcase. As he straightened up, his gaze lingered- not on any of the clutter, but on Sendou. The gentle crease between his eyebrows, the subtle twitch of concentration in his lips, and the way his fingers moved with such care as if the spices were the most fragile things in the world – something about it made Aiku’s chest ache in the warmest, most unbearable way.
He sauntered over, leaned against the counter, watching with his arms crossed. A quiet thought fluttered to the surface:
“I get to see this every day- not just after practice or pleasant dinners- it’s every day.”
“I would never dream of it, little fox,” Aiku answered fondly, then half to himself, “Y’know… you made it so damn easy to fall in love with you.”
Sendou stilled, a small jar of saffron in one hand. He turned his head slightly, eyes flickering to Aiku with a soft startle at the honest confession. His expression warmed quickly into something shy and adoring. Without having to say a word, they both understood how deep their love ran.
Two years. Two years of cautious steps turned into steady strides. Awkward glances in public that bloomed into unapologetic affection. And now… now Aiku was here in his crowded apartment that had once only held Sendou’s quiet rituals and lonely afternoons. Now it held both of them.
Eventually they both decided to get back to work after small comments and jokes. Sendou had fully finished unpacking and organizing the rooms he claimed to do. Slim hands shut the cabinet under the sink. Sendou could help but feel quite accomplished with his work. His mind couldn’t help but wonder how Aiku was doing.
Sendou drifted from the bathroom, feet silent on the floorboards, and leaned against the bedroom doorframe. Aiku was crouched, rummaging through a box of clothes. He was busy pulling them out and storing them in the dresser.
It was almost tangible how long Sendou gazed at Aiku. The way his back stretched with each breath, how his hair curled ever so slightly at the ends, the soft focus that was evident on his face. A tender ache pressed behind Sendou’s ribs- chasing out a fond smile, full of love.
“I didn’t think I’d want this. Didn’t think I’d let him get this close.”
The thought floated up like steam.
“But now…”
“Hey,” Sendou said softly, jolting Aiku into glancing over at him.
“You need somethin’?”
“I like seeing you here,” he murmured, “Among my things, becoming part of this space, and making it feel more like home.”
Aiku dusted his hands on his clothes despite the lack of grime, and crossed the space between them in three easy strides. He rested one hand on Sendou’s hip and the other on his cheek- rubbing it lightly. Aiku leaned in close enough to steal a small kiss from the corner of Sendou’s lips.
“You are my home- I follow where you lead,” Aiku whispered, “I’m just glad we’ve come this far.”
Sendou flushed as pink as his hair, hiring his face in Aiku’s shoulder to hide the involuntary grin he couldn’t muster to hold back.
There was knock at the door that forced them to pull away from each other. Sendou slid out the bedroom and to the front door. He open it and took their previously ordered takeout and set it on the dining table. Sendou wandered to the now overstuffed bookcase- the quiet humming familiarly around him. His fingers traced the spine of one of the books that had been squeezed onto the shelf. Redish-pink eyes flicked to the window- then the floor- and before he could stop it a memory crept in as vivid as if it were happening all over again.
♡˖⁺. ༶🍰 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅🍪⋆˙⊹♡
That night.
That table.
The dim lighting of the restaurant had softened everything- the edges of the menus, the loudness of the laughter, the way his hand trembled under the tablecloth. Their usual weekly dinner, turned subtly momentous. The team had gathered in the corner booth, boisterous and teasing, already mid-debate over appetizers.
Aryu was fussing over the lighting, Niko was nose deep into some magical girl game, and Barou was struggling to contain his annoyance at his boyfriend’s antics. And there was Aiku. Seated beside Sendou, their knees brushing. His callused hand already wrapped loosely around Sendou’s under the table- steady and grounding.
“We said we’d tell them today…”
They had been together for a few months so naturally none of them knew- even Aryu. Despite being a big part in Sendou and Aiku’s coupling, he had no clue. It was mostly due to him being under the idea they were still talking things and taking things slow.
Sendou had barely touched his water- palms damp and stomach churning knots. He stole a glance at Aiku, the taller man meeting his eyes with a calm smile- giving his hand a firm, wordless squeeze.
“It was okay.”
“He could do this.”
Still his voice wavered at first, “Hey, guys?” His voice was just loud enough to pause conversation, “There’s uh… something we want to tell you all.”
Five heads turned. The team blinked at him, stopping their previous actions to give Sendou their full attention.
Aiku, still warm beside him, cleared his throat, “We’re-“
“-Together!” Sendou blurted, cutting in wish a wave of nerves.
The silence that followed felt like a held breath. Then Aryu gasped dramatically, Niko’s jaw dropped slightly, and Barou's eyes widened.
“You’re dating and didn’t tell me?!” Aryu shrieked, “I was giving you space you know- time to sort your pining out… Months, Sendou. Months! I could’ve been celebrating!”
Sendou had flushed so hard his ears burned. Aiku chuckled, gently rubbing his hand over the back of Sendou’s, conveying his reassurance.
“it’s been- like Aryu said- a few months,” Aiku explained, casual but proud, “we wanted to tell you all when it felt right.”
The booth exploded into chaotic reactions- teasing, gasping, congratulations. The commotion did earn them a glare from the hostess, however they couldn’t contain their excitement. Sendou had looked at Aiku in the middle of the chaos- breath still tight in his chest… and saw only warmth in return.
A warmth that said you did it. We did it.
♡˖⁺. ༶🍰 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅🍪⋆˙⊹♡
Sendou exhaled, thumb still brushing the book's spine. That had been the first time he said it aloud- that they were real- That this thing between them wasn’t fragile or temporary. And now, with their shoes by the same door and matching toothbrushes in the bathroom, it felt more real than ever.
“Hey,” Aiku’s voice called from their bedroom, breaking Sendou from his thoughts, “If I fold one more shirt I think I’ll keel over.”
Sendou snorted under his breath, eyes soft as he called back, “You volunteered to do the clothes, old man.”
“Better than fumbling in the kitchen,” Aiku replied with a chuckle, but quieter than before.
And for a moment, the silence that followed was full- not empty. After Aiku finished organizing his clothes he made his way to enjoy an early lunch with Sendou. The rest of their day consisted of tiring unpacking and playful banter. As the sun began to set, the couple had finished and all that was left was to recycle the leftover boxes, but that could wait.
“So…” Sendou trailed off, “Want to watch a movie or something…?”
“I’d love to, pretty,” Aiku said as he reached for the remote that sat on the coffee table, across from where they were seated on the couch. Aiku flicked through some options before they decided on some dinosaur movie. Sendou cuddled up to Aiku, resting his head on top of the other's chest. A fluffy blanket wrapped around Sendou as they both became enthralled in the movie.
Halfway through the film, reddish eyes grew tired. As Sendou’s eyes sluggishly shut for the night all that was on his mind was the warmth of Aiku underneath him, and steady thump of his heart.
The days that followed were nothing short of quiet and golden in a way that only new beginnings can be.
Morning routines began to stitch together like a soft patchwork. Aiku humming off-key in the bathroom while brushing his teeth, Sendou stealing sips from his still cooling coffee, the way one always seemed to reach for the cereal the other had just left on the counter.
There were late-night movie marathons with tangled limbs on the couch, sleepy murmurs exchanged under shared sheets, and small touches of domestic affection. Fresh laundry loads folded together, grocery trips where they bickered over what snacks to get, a shared calendar on the fridge with with little doodles, courtesy of Sendou, around each other’s names.
Their rhythm was anything but perfect- Aiku’s socks being left anywhere but the hamper, and Sendou’s habit of abandoning half- full mugs, but it was theirs. Affectionate, warm, and easy in a way neither of them had experienced before each other.
But it didn’t last long.
It started with a photo. Harmless on the surface- one of the many selfies Aiku had taken of them on a dinner date. Sendou’s cheek against Aiku’s shoulder, smile soft in a way only someone head over heels could have. Aiku had posted it without a second thought, buried in a plethora of food pics and shots of their recent game, and seeing nothing wrong with it now that they were public.
And, as the internet does, somehow someone found it. Someone being a member of Sendou’s family- maybe a cousin or a distant aunt. Either way, the photo had made its way to Sendou’s parents. Perhaps the only people Sendou would rather not know about his relationship.
The call came one afternoon a few weeks after the initial moving day.
Sendou had stepped out of the shower, hair still damp from the steaming water. As Sendou slipped and tied the towel around his waist, he suddenly heard a buzzing from his phone. He grabbed it from where it was on the bathroom counter. His stomach sank the moment he saw his mother’s name adorning his screen.
He answered with a tentative, “Hey…?”
Her voice was tight, polite, but clipped, “Your father and I were wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner. This weekend?”
A beat.
“And you…. can bring your… friend. The one in those pictures.”
The word friend wasn’t a mistake. It was sharp. Deliberate. Every syllable laced with that passive-aggressive edge Sendou had known all his life. She wasn’t yelling. She didn’t need to. Her disapproval wove itself into her tone, not her words.
He’s swallowed a hard lump in his throat, “Okay,” he managed, “Yeah. Sure.”
The call ended with a sickening, all too-cheerful, “Looking forward to it dear ♪”
Sendou sat there for a long time, phone resting in his palm. He felt like was going to throw up. Everything felt fragile in an instant- a silent mantra repeating over and over in his head.
“What am I going to do?”
His thoughts were cut short as Aiku entered the bathroom. Sendou didn’t even notice- ears ringing in panic- Aiku’s hand suddenly found its place in Sendou back. Sound returned to Sendou’s ears and could start to hear Aiku’s concerned voice. His eyes snap to Aiku’s, which startles the man. He immediately laces his arms around Aiku’s waist, unwilling to let go.
Aiku eventually helps Sendou into their bedroom and lets him get dressed. Sendou tugged one of Aiku’s hoodies on and some soft shorts. He crawled to Aiku with trembling hands, finding safety in the warmth of Aiku. For a solid minute, the two cuddled in silence until Aiku dared to break it.
“Can you tell me what all this is about?” Aiku murmured in a voice filled with concern.
Sendou exhaled shakily. His voice muffed from where his face is pressed into Aiku’s collarbone, but Aiku doesn’t miss a single word, “…it’s my parents.”
A pause.
“They found out about us. From a photo, and now they want to have dinner. They… they said to bring my friend.”
There’s bitter emphasis on the word. Sendou's hand tightened into Aiku’s shirt. His voice dips quieter.
“They spoiled me rotten, sure, but they’ve never… really seen me. Not the real me. Hell… even my older brother and sister resent them. They never understood me, not when I was a kid, and clearly not now. I always had to act a certain way, not too loud, too soft, not too anything. They never allowed me the option of liking boys. Now I do, and they hate me.”
Sendou takes a deep breath and swallows the build lump in his throat.
“They didn’t yell, didn’t say anything cruel. But that’s how they work, they don’t have to. With just their tone they make me feel like… like I’m disappointing them just by… existing.”
Aiku gently brushes a thumb along Sendou’s spine.
“I used to practice how to talk to them,” Sendou says with a hollow laugh, “like rehearsing entire conversations before I walked into the kitchen. Just so I didn’t say something wrong and make everything tense. I thought I’d ditched that feeling a long time ago, but the second I heard her voice- it was like I was ten years old again. Too in my own skin.”
His voice struggles to stay steady at the end.
“I don’t ever want to talk about you like you're some mistake- that you’re not as important as you really are.”
Aiku’s hand moves from Sendou’s back to cradle the nape of his neck, thumb pressing gently into the curve just beneath his hairline. He doesn’t speak right away. He lets silence settle, lets his touch say the first part for him- you’re safe.
Then, softly but firmly, he murmurs, “Look at me, baby.”
Sendou hesitates, but he lifts his head, eyes glassy and shoulders tense like he’s expecting judgement. But it never comes, instead Aiku looks at him like he is everything.
“You are not a mistake,” he says, “Not the way you love. Not the way you exist. Not to me.”
He brushes a knuckle along Sendou’s cheek, “And if they can’t see the absolute gift of knowing you- then that’s on them, not you.”
Sendou’s lip trembles, and Aiku leans forward to press their foreheads together.
“ You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. Not anymore. You don’t have to shrink yourself for their comfort, and you sure as hell don’t owe them an explanation for loving who you love.”
His voice drops low, steady, “They don’t get to define you. And if they try to? I’ll be right there beside you, holding your hand every second.”
Sendou exhaled, ragged quiet, some part of the panic finally starting to loosen.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Aiku adds, softer now, “Not when things are hard. Not when it hurts. Not ever.”
The silence after Aiku’s words lingers like warmth in the air. Sendou stayed curled up into his chest, his breathing slower now, his fingers still lightly grasping Aiku’s shirt as if he would disappear.
Aiku shifts only to press a kiss on top of his head, “We don’t have to go, not if you’re not ready, not if it will only upset you.”
Sendou shakes his head against Aiku’s collarbone, “I… think I need to,” his voice not soft and clear, “I need to face them. Even if they never change I can’t keep hiding myself.”
Aiku turns his head to meet his gaze, hand raking through his hair, “Alright, then I’ll be here for you.”
Sendou gives him a tiny nod, eyes damp, but holding more steel now. Aiku offers a small smile, “I’ll wear something stupidly expensive to distract them, and we’ll hold hands the whole time.”
A quiet huff of laughter escapes from Sendou, “And,” Aiku continues, softly scratching his scalp, “We go in with the truth- that we love each other, and they can’t do anything about it.”
Sendou finally smiles, crooked and tired, but a smile nonetheless, “Can we… leave early if shit goes wrong?”
Aiku grins, “Babe, if one of them says the wrong thing, I’m making every excuse in the book and we’re running.”
That earns a small laugh from Sendou- bright and brief, but enough to ease the tension in his shoulders.
Then, quieter, more vulnerable, “Thanks Oliver, for being here for me”
Aiku’s smile softens, his hand slipping down to rest against Sendou’s side.
“Always.”
♡˖⁺. ༶🍰 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅🍪⋆˙⊹♡
The city outside their window passed in blurs of amber headlights and neon smears. Despite the lovely eventing sky, none of it reached Sendou. His eyes stared forward, unmoving, locked on the road ahead. His hands were clenched in his lap, thumbs rubbing over one another, over and over, skin beginning to redden from the friction.
“It shouldn’t be this hard. I already know what they’re like.”
The thoughts did little to make him feel better and instead settled into Sendou’s chest like a pebble dropped into a still lake- ripples sent to every corner of his body. His leg bounced without rhythm, a nervous tic he couldn’t shake at the moment.
He finally flicked his eyes to the side window, watching people spill in and out of buildings. He could only wish he could have that, something easy. Why did going to dinner have to feel like walking into a trap?
“Maybe if I'd told them earlier… maybe they would’ve had time to understand.”
But who was he kidding? His mom used to change the channel when a gay couple kissed on TV. His dad had even said, “You need to toughen up, not cry over everything like a girl.” As if softness was a crime. He’d been hiding everything about himself for years. Now he was supposed to show his whole self? Sendou was more than nervous- he was scared.
A long squeeze pulled him from his worsening thoughts. He shot his eyes over to Aiku who was offering a soft smile as he held Sendou’s hand.
“Are you still breathing over there?” Aiku tries gently.
Sendou gave a hesitant nod, “Trying.”
“Remember, you don’t have to prove anything to them,” Aiku added, his thumb gilding across the back of Sendou’s hand, “You just have to be you. And I’ll be right next to you.”
That got a fragile smile from Sendou, “I know,” his voice wavering, “I think… I’m just scared it will hurt.”
“It’s okay,” Aiku said, gaze still on the road, “I’ll be there to catch whatever falls.”
♡˖⁺. ༶🍰 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅🍪⋆˙⊹♡
The two entered the dimly lit restaurant, the lighting creating a cozy ambiance. Shuto spotted his parents and vice versa. The initial greetings were clipped but civil. His mother offered a curt smile, lips barely moving. His father shook Aiku’s head with the kind of grip meant to show dominance.
The group sat at a nice dark wood table covered in white linen. Candlelight flickered in small pools across the table, polished silverware catching the glow. Aiku sat tall beside him. His large hand rested lightly on his boyfriend’s thigh under the table.
Across from them sat Sendou’s parents- two adults dressed in armored elegance. His mother’s pink locks were styled into a simple middle part braided bun with pieces pulled out in the front. Her white dress was pristine, and her pearl earrings caught every light. His father right next to her, blonde and gray hair swept back- his simple suit was anything but inviting. Unlike Shuto’s mother, his father wore a stoic expression and not one with fake kindness.
They had ordered drinks, settled into a rhythm of small talk that weren’t at all needle-pointed questions about Aiku’s career, his upbringing, his future. Aiku answered every one with steady grace. But Shuto stayed quiet, shrinking in on himself even as Aiku’s fingers curled reassuringly against him.
“So,” his mother said, stirring her wine, “I suppose we’re calling this a relationship, then.”
Shuto felt Aiku still slightly beside him, not tensing- but prepared.
“Yes, Mrs. Sendou,” Aiku answered politely, “it is.”
His mother gave a breathy laugh, short and cold. “You know, dear,” she said, eyes locked on Shuto, “I just worry is all. You’ve always been such a quiet boy. Gentle. Easily influenced…”
“Mom-“ Shuto began, voice weak.
“Don’t you think it’s a little convenient,” she continued voice syrupy with false concern, “that this… interest of yours appeared only a few years after you moved out on your own? Shuto… some boys just don’t know who they are yet.”
His father decided to chime in, his voice low but firm, “This is just a phase, I hope. You’re still young. It’s natural to confuse admiration with… other things.”
Aiku’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. Shuto’s silence, his shrinking posture, told him enough. The hand beneath the table gave a firmer squeeze. They continued eating, or pretending to at least. The tension now clung to every utensil, every forced chew. Aiku tried to ease the atmosphere, asking about past times they used to do together. It didn’t help.
“You know, Shuto,” his mother said near the end of their evening, her tone light but lethal, “you don’t have to pretend you’re someone you’re not… just because you’re lonely.”
The words stung. He’s throat burned. He blinked at his plate, but this time- he didn’t back down. He looked up at his parents.
His voice was stronger than it had been all day, “I’m not pretending,” he said, “I’ve never felt more like myself than I do with him. You don’t have to understand it, but don’t insult my choices.”
His mother blinked- once. Then her face twisted in disbelief, in rage.
“The audacity,” she hissed, “After everything we’ve done for you- how we raised you- this is how you speak to us?!”
She quickly stood, leaning over to tug Shuto up by his collar. When they were both stood, she gave a scorching slap across his face. The slap cracked through the restaurant like a gunshot. Shuto reeled- not from pain, but from the shock. His hand slowly came up to his cheek, eyes wide, unmoving.
Aiku was on his feet before anyone could react, his voice slicing through the silence with a razor calm, “You really think you’re good parents, don’t you?” He said, loud enough that a few more nearby tables turned their heads, “Because you bought him things? Because you raise him to be polite and terrified of disappointing you? That’s just control dressed up as love.”
He pulled Shuto closer to him, planning to leave right after he gave the Sendou’s a piece of his mind.
“If you can look at your son, deny a part of him, and still say you love him, then you don’t know what love is. You never made room for who he really is. Just who you wanted him to be.”
Sendou’s father opened his mouth, but Aiku didn’t give him a chance, “The real him is kind, loving, and hard working. He shouldn’t have to change himself for you to see that.”
He gently took Shuto’s hand, curling their fingers together, “C’mon let’s go home.”
And with one final glare at the two that had pretended to raise the boy beside him well, Aiku walked them out of the sea of stares. Outside the night air was cool, crisp, and clean. However, the weight of what had happened still clung to Shuto like smoke.
The ride home was quiet, Sendou preferring to process everything in silence. His palm still rest on his check despite the pain no longer being there. Aiku gave him his space not wanting to push him too far.
The door clicked quietly behind them as they walked into their apartment. The silence that followed was thick, stifling- like fog rolling into the room and refusing to leave.
Sendou kicked off his shoes slowly, robotically. His coat slid from his shoulders and landed in a soft heap by the door, forgotten. Aiku watched him. He had learned over the years they had been together it’s better to let the silence grow when Sendou was like this.
Sendou padded into the apartment like a ghost. No words nor an expression. He walked past the kitchen, past the couch they cuddled on numerous times, past the still-warm lights Aiku had left on. Straight into the bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind him.
Sendou wasted no time in change into a comfy shirt and pair of shorts, leaving his previous outfit scattered on the floor. Aiku followed after a beat. When his quiet footsteps brought him to their bedroom, Sendou was already curled onto his side, under the sheets, faced forwards the wall.
“Shu…” Aiku said gently.
No answer.
Aiku slipped his dress shirt off and crawled in beside Sendou. His voice was quiet when he spoke again, “You don’t have to talk if don’t want to. Just know I’m here.”
Still no words. Just a slow, trembled exhale from the boy. So Aiku stayed. He slid his fingers over Sendou’s arm- just comforting. Minutes passed like hours. Then, finally a shift. Sendou turned to face Aiku, darting his arms around his torso. His grasp was firm as he buried his face into the other’s chest.
Aiku wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him gently, securely. A soft kiss was placed on the silky, pink hair, nothing but light pressure. No words were exchanged after that. Nothing but their whispering breaths and the cool AC could be heard.