Chapter Text
“Hmm, it’s autumn again. You always did take a liking to its colors..” Two years, two strikingly long years since his significant other, best friend, his love, had gone away. Two years and all Nowaki had to favor were flowers; a tulip immersed by a dozen roses.
“Ah, Hiro-san! I was saving that for later!” He screeched, acknowledging the lonesome tulip in his lover’s hand.
All shades of embarrassment had taken ahold of him, his head lowered in bashfulness.
Tonight had been a special night, their anniversary night to be explicit. It was a night that was to be celebrated with much prestige and affection. A night that commemorated another year together. A night that meant something to them both. Nowaki had gifted Hiroki a written token of affection and a flower. It was just a boring flower, there was nothing captivating about it. It had no accenting features, its colors were even dull and jaded. Nothing stood out about it. It was a common flower. It was so plain and ugly-
“Oi, how’d you know?”
“Eh?” “
This is my favorite type of flower, how did you know? I don’t remember telling you..”
He didn’t know, he truly didn’t. He had no intention of it being so. It was such a boring little thing! It wasn’t worthy of Hiroki’s interest.
But.
He supposed it was only fitting.
Kamijou always did like the plain things that life had to offer.
He had arranged them himself, he always did everything himself when it was in Kamijou’s honor. It was he who had arranged the flowers that were set upon the wood and metal that held Hiroki captive and away from him. He had chosen what suit would perhaps accent Hiroki’s features, he was even conferred with the power to choose his lowering date; perhaps as a widow’s common decency. He wouldn’t allow any professional the chance to discreetly ruin his last time on the same surface as his husband.
He fidgeted with his hands, thumbs fighting against the glove’s restraints and the built up sweat. His throat had ached with dehydration. Who knows how many times he had gulped his own saliva? He didn’t! But what he did know, for fact rather than fiction, was that the tiny, velvet, box in his grip was going to burst if he had gripped it any tighter.
His nerves were running rampant. He had no reason to be this nervous, it’d be awhile until Hiroki arrived at their meet-up spot; Nowaki had told him that it was important to be punctual tonight, and that it couldn’t be done on any other. He knew that Hiroki would be stuck in traffic, he knew that he’d be late upon his last minute request; even still, he pestered on. It had to be tonight, it had to be.
“Hiro-san, these eight years have been the ever-more exciting, and I cannot await for more to come. But-perhaps we could go through these next eight years...with you taking my name?” He spoke in practice. As embarrassing as it was to show-case his affection without any particular objective, he had to rehearse. He knew he had to. If he didn’t then he would be a stuttering mess once came his moment. “
You just...you mean so much to me. God, every waking moment just makes me want to love you more. Maybe that’s not possible, to love you even more than I already do; and maybe it is. But I know that, with your consent, I’ll love you so much more once this band of love slips onto your finger,” he moved down, onto one knee, in practice, “I suppose what I’m trying to get at is...will you marry m-”
“What..?”
While deep into rehearsal, he had been reluctant to hear Hiroki’s footsteps, and his car, and his car chiming to signal it’s locking sequence. Crap. He wished that lightning would strike him down. He wished for a tree to fall onto him. He wished for a car to not see him and hit him by accident. He wished to not exist. He wanted to be struck down where he knelt. He wanted to disappear. He wanted to-
“Nowaki, what did you say just now?”
His heel had long since dug itself into the soil that lay above his resting husband. He’d been standing there awhile, the material of his shoe was going to give out. The sky was cleared of clouds, outside individuals visiting the resting place of loved ones had left. He couldn’t leave until he had spoken his mind, he’d be damned.
“I finally got the promotion I was telling you about. Ha, can you believe it? It only took me three years.” As he spoke to his wedded, deceased lover, he could feel the slow movement of warmth slide down the sweet facade he wore to fight against his bottled emotions. He knew it was not a healthy mechanism nor was it productive to shove his angst away and not acknowledge it; Hiroki had always scolded him for that.
He knew it was selfish of him to have conflicting emotions about this, there was nothing that could be done. It was just a mere schedule change, there was nothing to it.
And yet- he felt cheated.
Hiroki had received a re-scheduling of work hours, increasing the time he would spend at the office. The time of year had asked more of him than it would any other time; professors had ran about unceremoniously, plagued with the fear of contingencies of failure. Students had probed their seniors with preparation questions and paperwork that would inevitably affect their work in the academia. It was nothing Kamijou couldn’t handle, until it was. Students frequented his room more, teachers began to share materials with each other; causing him to lose his own supplies, books that were long since overdue piled among his belongings.
The warm take-out that Hiroki would pick up on late nights for them to share was soon replaced with highlighters and work of his students. The bags that usually accented his features began to deepen, his fingertips almost stripped of healthy tissue; presumably caused by his constant biting , and his threshold for patience lowered.
He was stressed. Nowaki knew that, and he was understanding about it.
But he didn’t like it.
Had he not the better mind, he’d march down to the toxic environment and give them a fresh reminder as to why they shouldn’t pester his significant other anymore than they already had.
But he couldn’t.
And because of such, he bottled it up. He knew it would be selfish to voice his own concerns and disapproval to Hiroki; he didn’t need anymore clutter.
However, the toll of affection-deprivation had taken a toll on Nowaki’s mood, mind, and soul. Hiroki was soon to notice, and was soon to question it.
To be frank- the schedule change had affected Kamijou personally too.
He no longer had time for affectionary actions. No longer the time for lips to coat against his skin, arms that acted as walls against his worries to hold him. He couldn’t spare any time to glance into the eyes that he had called his own, the body warmth that was only his to feel, and the sweet moments of intimacy that would make the week’s work worth all its stress. He had no time for his Nowaki.
And that hurt him too, though he’d never voice his weakness.
He’d been lucky to find a way to bring it into conversation during yet another late dinner, Nowaki had been the first of the two to show his discernment.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hm?” Hiroki would draw it out of him. He already knew what was bothering him for the same thing was bothering him too. He needed him to voice that, he needed him to reciprocate his ache. He needed to hear it. “
You seem to be upset over something, what is it?”
“I-well...it’s nothing serious.” Of course, he was quick to disregard his feelings, he always did that. He knew Nowaki well-enough to understand why he did so. He had grown so accustomed to putting forth others’ comfort and feelings rather than his own; it peeved Hiroki to no end.
But this time-
He wouldn’t let him.
He wouldn’t let him get away with it again.
“Don’t do that..”
“What?”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what..?” He had to be an uneducated idiot to be this oblivious.
“Don’t do what you just did!” Quick to anger, as always.
“I’m sorry, I don’t underst-” always quick to cut him off too. “
Don’t-” he breathed a sigh, returning to center as so he could communicate his emotion, “...don’t subject yourself lower than that. As if you have no worries or concerns to offer, you’re human. I asked what was wrong, I’d like for you to tell me..” The longing gleam in Nowaki’s eye had been replaced with endearment for the man before him. He was concerned about him, and somehow that made his heart grow two or three sizes larger.
He would indulge him.
“It’s been two years but it feels like just yesterday you were taken from me..” It was stupid to speak his hurt. No. If he didn’t do it now, he’d never do it. “I just..I tried. I tried being strong as you. But I can’t-I just can’t...you’re too important to throw away..I-I try and try and yet, I can’t.” Cold shakes and weeps were about him, he began to sniffle. The bouquet he had brought had been dropped, he used both hands to comfort himself for he had no one else that would. “Everyone always tells me that it’ll get better and that, you’re still here. And--I want to believe them, I truly do. But, it’s so hard to have such a mentality when I can’t be with you anymore..” his fingers felt on fire, they felt without purpose. What purpose did they serve if not for caressing and holding his husband?
He wanted to mourn in silence, he wanted to visit Kamijou’s wake by his lonesome, he wanted to be his love alone, one last time.