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When two people live in the same house, Basch thought, over and over while he swept the floor, pouting, spring cleaning should be something that is done by both of them.
Well, technically, three people (and one dog) lived in that same house- but he couldn't just knock on the door of Erika's bedroom and tell her to clean. As her older brother, he always felt responsible for the household management, from paying the bills to the simplest chores; plus, she was the one who accepted to leave their hometown to move from their small place in the mountains to this much bigger house in the suburbs, and all because Basch's boyfriend had finally , after three years, asked him to move in together.
He felt responsible (and maybe, just maybe, guilty ) for this big change in her life. He didn't want this house, which was not her home quite yet, to be her responsibility.
And back to the more urgent matters, he was sure she would not mind helping him with the cleaning; but he wanted her to relax, and enjoy the warm and sunny March afternoon without having to stress over dusting and vacuuming.
The fault, he thought, lay heavily with his aforementioned slob of a boyfriend, who was currently sitting on the couch behind him, reading a book and listening to one of his pretentious classical music vinyl records- much to Basch's annoyance. Yes, because not only was he not taking part in the chores: just an hour before, Roderich was the one who asked him to not use the vacuum cleaner, because "it's loud" this, and "I can't hear the music" that. However , Roderich seemed to have noticed how angry his attitude had made him, because he hadn't said a single word since then. In fact, neither one of them did; they just ignored each other in silence, while the ridiculously, painfully " allegro con spirito " sound of violins filled the room.
Sound that got more and more on Basch's nerves the more he tried to sweep away the elusive dog fur scattered everywhere, wondering if he had just taken a time travelling machine back to the thirties, when vacuum cleaners were a luxury and vinyl records were all the rage. The thought of getting one of those avant-garde, silent hoovers was kicked to the back of his mind when he considered how pricey those things must be.
He was tempted, really tempted, to just turn off the music and have a fight with his boyfriend, when he heard him stand up and leave the couch, that by now must have had a high definition mold of his ass on it.
He must be thirsty or something, Basch thought, before he felt his boyfriend's arms trapping him in a deadly grip .
He froze, clenching his fists on the broom, wondering if this was some kind of sick joke.
"If you're trying to apologize, it doesn't work, Roderich."
All he got in response was a long, low hum and a kiss on his neck, before Roderich started humming along to the music, gently swinging left and right in what probably, to anyone else, would have looked like the most awkward slow dance ever- but Basch couldn't help but blush, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading from his stomach all throughout his body.
This was so like him- to do something absolutely infuriating, and then use his stupidly irresistible enticing way to persuade everyone else around him into forgiving him, and loving him, and returning his hug...- and no, maybe the last was something only Basch could feel, and do, as he turned in that very moment to return his boyfriend's embrace.
Accidentally hitting his face with the broom in the process.
"Ow, that hurt!"
"That's what you deserve", Basch replied, "it's its revenge for not helping with the cleaning."
"Well", Roderich said, taking the evil tool in his hand and letting it fall on the ground, "it's what it deserves for smacking me in the face."
Basch couldn't help but laugh at his boyfriend's smug face; and because laughter is contagious, Roderich couldn't help but chuckle, holding the man he loved closer to him, tilting his head down to whisper something in his ear.
"Let's forget about the cleaning. Let's dance. How about it?"
"You know damn well I can't dance, Roderich."
"Well, I'll teach you. But", he paused, "to dance- let me play a waltz instead."
As Roderich walked away, humming a different tune while the cheerful violins still played on the record, Bash (as much as he hated himself for forgiving him so easily) felt already impatient for him to come back. The space in front of him felt terribly empty now that he was not there- and while he was indeed terrible at dancing, he just wanted an excuse for Roderich to come back and hold him again.
How long had it been since the two of them had spent some time alone like this?
As much as he loved Erika, having his little sister live in the same house as them meant that he and Roderich had to give up part of their intimacy- not because Erika would mind, but because the thought of flirting in front of your sister was, to put it bluntly, embarrassing.
But now that she was in her bedroom, and couldn't see the two of them…!
Basch's stream of thoughts was interrupted by the buzz of the record player, the music changing to a slower, mellow tune.
"Johann Strauss", Roderich said, walking back towards him, "Künstlerleben."
Now they stood in front of each other, and Basch felt his boyfriend's hand on his own shoulder blade, a shiver running down his spine.
Roderich smiled at him.
"You too, Basch, put your hand there. And now, your left hand", he said, entangling Basch's fingers with his, "out, like this."
Roderich was so close that Basch could swear he could hear the pulse of his neck- or maybe, he thought, maybe he was just a fool- it was just his own heartbeat. He could also swear he had never seen anyone dance waltz this close to each other, but he couldn't say he was unhappy about it.
"Now for the basic steps, it's not hard. Follow my feet... I go forward, you go back", Roderich said, stepping forward with his left foot, forcing Basch out of balance for one second before he naturally stepped back, "now to the side, bring your feet closer together like I'm doing... and now, step forward as I go back..."
Basch had to admit that this was easier than it looked, but it was just the beginner's lesson, not actually dancing.
"It's not that bad.", he said, leaning on his boyfriend's shoulder. Roderich pulled him closer, leaning in to leave a kiss on the top of his head.
"Told you. Now let's go with the music, shall we?"
Basch nodded nervously; how bad could it be after all?
When Roderich started counting, and moving, he wanted to take back all he said about this not being bad. They were only at the second step, when he accidentally stepped on his boyfriend's foot. Roderich let out a very quiet yelp.
"Basch, remember to follow my lead", he said when he collected himself, determined to not let this ruin the moment, repeating the steps slowly. "One, two, three," he counted, and Basch knew they were supposed to go faster, but at this rate he could actually keep up.
Repeating it once, twice, and once again, they slowly settled into a rythm that was comfortable for the both of them. "One, two, three... back, side, and now-"
As his dancing partner stepped back, Basch could feel his arm pulling him, making him lose his balance- sweeping him off his feet, arching his back- and now, dip?
"Oh my god, are you guys ok? What's going on?"
Shit. The loud noise had made Erika come out of her room and straight to their rescue, as they lay on the floor with the grace and composure of a beached whale, stranded on a sack of potatoes.
"Yeah, uh", Roderich muttered, "I think I tripped over the broom..."
Basch, rolling off his boyfriend, was still too confused and embarrassed to say anything. If there was something he didn't want his sister to see, it was this. How could they forget about that damned broom?
"Tripped?", Erika asked, as she shot them a concerned look- "Weren't you guys cleaning?"
Roderich collected himself and collected the treacherous cleaning tool on the ground, the culprit of their fall of grace, to put it back in the storage closet where it belonged.
Basch stood up with a sigh, getting closer to his beloved sister to reassure her that no, none of his bones were broken, and the same could be said for Roderich- although he could tell by the way his boyfriend walked that his... lower back was going to be sore for a while.
Thank goodness they didn't break anything, he thought, or they would actually need to clean that up now.
"I think we've had enough cleaning for today", he said, patting Erika's shoulder, "you wanna make some hot chocolate, and we can all continue with the chores tomorrow?"
She nodded with a smile, and he couldn't help but smile back at her, in spite of what just happened. Seeing his sister happy and smiling like this, even now that they were so far away from the mountains they were so used to- it was, for him, the greatest joy of all. He really wished, one day, for her to think of this as her home, and of Roderich as her family, in the same way she now thought of him as his family.
Maybe, it would take some time.
Maybe, that time had already come... and he was just overthinking this, overprotective as he always was.
That afternoon, the hot chocolate the three of them had in the sunlit kitchen tasted great, accompanied by the gentle and bright sound of Mozart's Violin Sonata; and Basch wished to spend hundreds and hundreds of afternoons like this, with the two people he loved the most in his life, for their little family to always be as happy and peaceful as they were in that moment.