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“You know, when you messaged me saying that you needed me desperately, this really isn’t what I expected to be doing.”
Gaku laughed apologetically, handing the next shirt over to Mitsuki to be ironed. They had spent the last two hours or so re-sorting clothes and cleaning out any discolorations from Gaku’s attempt at doing laundry. It had been a pretty labor-intensive project, but Mitsuki couldn’t exactly say he minded. He rarely got to hang out with the other idol, let alone one on one like this.
“Ryuu usually does the laundry around here, but I thought I’d take care of it while he was shooting an ad this weekend.” He sighed, watching carefully as Mitsuki pressed out every seam until the shirt was crisp, every line sharp and clean. Mitsuki held it up in appreciation before turning his head to glance at the man behind him. “I honestly didn’t know who else to call.”
Mitsuki paused for the briefest moment, pondering as he handed the shirt back for Gaku to fold. “Hmm. I suppose that makes sense. I can’t think of anyone else off the top of my head that would be good at this kind of thing. Maybe our manager?”
Gaku’s hands visibly tensed as he attempted to fold them under. Mitsuki struggled to stifle back a laugh. He was so easy to read; it was actually pretty refreshing to be around a guy like that. “I…wouldn’t want to bother her when she’s got so much to do. Besides I…ahh…” he glanced to the side awkwardly, before finally returning to his task. “I’d hate for her to have to see me make such a huge mess.”
Mitsuki couldn’t fight back his laugh anymore, bursting out in a peal of laughter, unable to stop until Gaku was chuckling too. Perhaps it was wrong of him to tease Gaku like this, but it was nice to see the man so flustered and open. And it was nice to be able to make him smile too. Riku had always suspected he and Mitsuki would get along well. And now that they’ve actually gotten to know each other…
“Well then I guess I’ll just have to teach you a thing or two so it never happens again! You’ll be impressing women across the globe with your laundry skills in no time!” Mitsuki glanced over at Gaku, who was back to staring at the shirt he was trying to fold. He held up a finger, urging Mitsuki to be silent for a moment while he tried to remember the technique the other man had just taught him.
Mitsuki had to struggle not to laugh at that one too.
“Fold along the sleeves first, in line with the seams,” Mitsuki urged, trying to spark Gaku’s memory. “You have to be careful though. When the fibers are still warm from the iron, it’s easier to put in new wrinkles.”
“That’s right. Thanks.” Gaku turned to look at his laundry companion, nodding with a grateful smile on his face. Only a man like Gaku Yaotome could make such a small thing feel so incredibly important. “You really are an expert at these things. No wonder everyone voted you Most Desirable Husband.” Gaku’s tone was playful and casual, but he studied Mitsuki thoroughly as the smaller man checked the heat and steam on the iron. He could almost feel the keen silver eyes on him, studying every movement from his face to his hands.
Mitsuki suddenly felt incredibly stripped bare. And even stranger, he found that he didn’t hate it.
“You know that was just a joke on the group chat, right? You seriously can’t be that jealous.” Mitsuki rolled his eyes, shaking it off and grabbing for the newly folded shirt. He placed it neatly on the pile of other dress shirts, newly bleached and no longer tinted gray with the colors from TRIGGER’s wardrobe. He straightened himself up, moving onto the pile of linens.
“I am, actually. Being a desirable husband is a much greater trait than the most desirable embrace.” Gaku blinked, as though everything he said were completely obvious. He followed Mitsuki’s lead, grabbing for the other end of the sheet. Mitsuki guided him forward, stepping inward as Gaku did the same. “It seems I still have a long ways to go if I’m aiming for the top. And I do intend on taking that title away from you, Izumi-ani.”
Mitsuki barked out a laugh. “Yeah? I welcome the challenge then, Yaotome-san! I’ll have you know that I’ve been honing my skills since I was a child.” He grinned ear-to-ear, stepping inward until he and Gaku were toe-to-toe, their hands touching as they met in the middle of the sheet. He looked up, at Gaku’s quiet smile as he looked down at the smaller man. And for a brief moment, Mitsuki felt like he weighed nothing at all.
“Ah, here,” he remembered their task in an instant, urging Gaku to grab the top of the sheet as Mitsuki slid down to get the bottom. “When my mother taught me how to do this, she always told me it was like a dance. It really does feel that way, huh? With us following each other’s movements.” He felt a little silly for saying it, but it was nice, to be so in-sync with someone over something so small.
“Yeah? I guess it does. I never got that lesson,” Gaku confessed with a sigh. And in an instant, his smile grew softer, almost wistful. Mitsuki furrowed his brow, not liking the look at all. Gaku suddenly felt too far away from him, somewhere where only maids did laundry, and where only instructors taught you how to dance.
Mitsuki cleared his throat loudly, yanking the newly folded sheet from Gaku’s hands. The man looked at him with a start, and Mitsuki beamed as all of the other man’s attention was back on him again. As it should be. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time! First, I’ll show you how to fold a fitted sheet. And then we’ll work on the dishes. And of course we need to teach you cooking…”
“I know how to cook,” Gaku piped in. “I’ll have you know I make a mean plate of soba.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Mitsuki fired back sharply, grabbing for a fitted sheet and draping it over his hands. “You can make me dinner then, after all this. And then I can decide if we need to add some cooking lessons to your husbandry crash-course.”
Gaku’s shoulders relaxed as they went back to their usual conversation, very clearly putting his previous thoughts behind him. It really was a nice change of pace, Mitsuki decided. He was long used to people like his brother, or even people like Yamato and Nagi, who masked themselves for the sake of others. Gaku was the opposite, wearing his heart on his sleeve for the sake of those around him. And Mitsuki could get used to that too.
“Fair enough, I suppose.” Gaku laughed, walking behind Mitsuki to watch more carefully as he folded. Mitsuki moved slowly, flipping over the elastic and then folding it into a pocket with his hands. He maintained careful focus, trying not to think about how Gaku loomed behind him, with his eyes cutting into his every move, his chest mere inches away from Mitsuk’s back.
“Hey, Izumi-ani? I’ve been wondering something.” Gaku then asked amidst the silence, as Mitsuki tucked the elastic into one corner and laid it down onto the table in front of him. His voice was soft, almost concerned.
“Hm?” Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, looking behind him only briefly to meet Gaku’s eyes. He instantly regretted it, feeling fire in his veins as their eyes met. He really was one of the most handsome men in Japan, after all. He quickly turned back to his task with new focus, picking it up as he finally began to fold the edges over.
“What exactly did you expect we’d be doing, when you got my message?”
Mitsuki dropped the sheet altogether.