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With a loud thud, Shuichi drops a box larger than almost his entire torso onto the floor in front of him, wincing at the sound it makes and hoping that the family in the apartment directly beneath this one won’t mind so much. He briefly considers going down and issuing an apology for all of the noise, but he supposes that he can do that later, after they’re actually finished carrying in all of the boxes. He shoots a disgruntled look at the box in front of him, as if it could possibly know that it’s the source of his anxiety (or at least, this particular anxiety) before using his foot rather than his arms to slide it in next to the rest of the boxes.
Just as he manages to pack it in snug, drawing from all of his (albeit limited) experiences playing tetris to do it as best he can, the door to the apartment swings closed with a click, and a glance over his shoulder tells him that it’s just his boyfriend, carrying a box of his own, who closed the door.
“Ah, so,” Shuichi pauses, looking between Rantaro and the door a few times before his gaze eventually settles on the other man. He’s smiling, though he seems a bit winded- probably from all of the trips up the stairs carrying heavy boxes- and there’s a breathless look in his eyes that Shuichi tries to ignore because it’s extremely distracting. He clears his throat and attempts to refocus.“Is that everything?”
“Yeah, except for the stuff at Kaede’s.” Rantaro replies, placing his box on top of the one that Shuichi just carried in and releasing a sigh, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rides up when he does so, but it just reveals the grey tanktop that he’s wearing underneath (because Rantaro is nothing if not an onion). Not that it matters; Shuichi has seen his bare torso plenty of times. “But she’s still on tour and all so we can get it back from her next time we’re both in town at the same time.”
“That might not be for a while.” Shuichi muses, tapping his upper lip with one of his fingers. “We’re off to Italy in a week, right? We’re leaving right before she gets back, if I’m correct.”
“What can I say?” Rantaro grins, dropping his arms to his sides and walking over to drape them over Shuichi’s shoulders instead. (The detective wrinkles his nose, because they’re both extremely sweaty from all the heavy lifting, but leans into his boyfriend’s touch anyway, exhaling and tucking his head into the junction between his neck and shoulder.) “I’m a crappy planner.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He sounds tired, even to his own ears, but that’s because he is. Despite training with Kaito and Maki so much through high school, and the fair amount of physical things he ends up doing traveling with Rantaro, going up and down the stairs with all those boxes so many times has gotten him tired out. There’s an elevator here, of course, but Rantaro doesn’t take elevators (for obvious reasons) and Shuichi isn’t going to hop onto one and make things easier on himself when Rantaro can’t. “You’re just not used to having to actually make plans, rather than booking a flight to Spain whenever.”
“Hmm.” Rantaro ruffles Shuichi’s hair. “I’m not sure I like the analysis of my personality.”
“Hey!” Shuichi ducks away from his hand, pouting when Rantaro starts to laugh at him. “You’re going to make it stand up more!” He complains, reaching up to try and smooth down his cowlick as much as he can. It doesn’t work, as usual, and eventually Rantaro ends up taking both of his hands in his, still chuckling at his indignant expression as he kisses Shuichi’s knuckles. “You and your lips are both going on my hate list.” He glowers.
“I’m terrified.” Rantaro remarks, and Shuichi can’t help cracking a smile at his deadpan, even though his ears are still burning a bit. It’s not that things like that are really embarrassing anymore- he’s comfortable around Rantaro, and they’ve been together for three years, since their first year of high school- but sometimes little bits of his old anxiety still manage to creep through. And he isn’t feeling particularly anxious today, or anything, though… there is certainly a lot on his mind, he doesn’t think that’s exactly the same thing. “I know we need to unpack and stuff, but I’m beat.”
“Me, too.” Shuichi sighs, and finds himself relaxing into Rantaro’s touch when the other man curves his arms around his waist. “I’m glad we got the bed sorted out beforehand.” He adds. “Though it’s sad that there’s not a desk yet.”
“It just means that you can’t work on that pile of cases you take on every time we come home from a trip.” Rantaro shrugs. “Big deal.”
“Ah, does it bother you? That I spend a lot of time working whenever we’re in Japan, I mean.” Shuichi knows it doesn’t, on some level, and normally he wouldn’t even ask, but at the moment, for some reason, the small things hit different. Rantaro hums, giving him an odd look, before shaking his head. He seems to be considering commenting, but eventually he appears to decide against it, pressing a light kiss to Shuichi’s forehead before sliding out of the embrace.
“You’re a diligent worker.” Rantaro responds, though he’s already shaken his head. “You just need a better work ethic. One that involves taking breaks.” He intertwines their fingers and his lips spread into a small smile as he gently tugs on Shuichi’s arm, leading him towards their new bedroom. Rantaro has plenty of money, so they could’ve afforded an apartment with two bedrooms if they wanted, but every time they try to plan to sleep in different beds, they end up sleeping together anyway, so this time Shuichi figured they might as well just plan ahead.
As he sits down on the new mattress, feeling its softness underneath him while Rantaro opens one of the boxes, searching for his laptop, Shuichi thinks, this bed is going to feel a lot larger to whichever one of us keeps the apartment if we break up.
The thought takes him off guard; it’s almost like a punch to the gut, despite the fact that he’s thought about it before. He’s never actually brought it up to Rantaro, generally because he’s just been assuming that Rantaro’s been thinking the same things. That what they have isn’t set in stone, that they’re young and nothing is permanent, that they’re highschoolers (well, former highschoolers; they graduated recently) and they don’t know the difference between infatuation and love yet… Shuichi thinks it’s unlikely that he could ever wake up and not love Rantaro anymore. In fact he doubts that’ll ever happen, even though he’s hesitant to speak in such permanent terms when he doesn’t know what the future holds. But…
There’s no way for him to know if the warmth in Rantaro’s gaze when he wakes up in the mornings and sees Shuichi lying across from him is there because he’s temporarily infatuated, or because he’s really in love. There’s no way for him to know if that warmth might someday be gone.
Shuichi shakes his head, grateful for the fact that Rantaro is a scattered person and probably has no idea which box he put his laptop in (and they both know it’s not in the box labeled laptop) because it means that he’s too distracted to notice what’s running through the detective’s head right now. It’s silly to be worrying about it like this, but the second he thinks that the second he starts thinking about how this apartment is going to start feeling like a homebase, a place to retreat between dangerous adventurers. The place where they’re safe. He’ll start counting his steps out of the room and into the kitchen at three in the morning. He’ll know where the lightswitches are and the exact position to sleep in if he wants to slip out from under the covers as soundlessly as possible during an episode. This apartment is going to be filled with laughter and warmth and smiles from both sides.
And when (if, if, if) Rantaro leaves, it’ll feel cold and empty instead. Unless Rantaro is the one who keeps the apartment, which feels more likely because Shuichi doubts he could stay in a place so tainted by memories, in which case he won’t even have a home to look back on the memories in.
He wonders if this is paranoia talking, and if he’s being ridiculous, or if this is one of those facts that he’s always been trying to run from. Is he hiding from the truth again, like Kaede helped him learn not to do back in high school? Is this something that he’s going to have to come to terms with happening someday?
It’s only when he clenches his hands into fists to stop them from shaking that Shuichi realises they were shaking in the first place. He doesn’t want to think about this, to let his thoughts wander in this direction, but now that they’ve started he can’t seem to stop them. He closes his eyes, trying not to screw up his face, because the thought of Rantaro leaving, for whatever reason (though it would be perfectly justifiable all things considered; everyone leaves eventually) makes him want to cry.
“Hey,” Rantaro’s voice drags him back out of his thoughts and Shuichi opens his eyes, forcing his hands out of their fists and then clenching them again when they only begin to shake harder. His boyfriend has stopped rifling through boxes, and is now sitting down on the floor some feet away, frowning like he’s concerned. Idly, Shuichi wonders how long he’s been sitting like that, and how long ago Rantaro noticed. “Everything alright?”
It must be kind of bad for Rantaro to ask, huh? Shuichi nods his head without really thinking about it. “S-Sorry. I’m fine.” He says quietly, despite not necessarily believing it. “I just-” he hesitates. “Some anxiety stuff. It’s alright.”
Rantaro looks at him for a moment before getting up off the floor and walking over, taking a seat next to Shuichi on the bed. They’re really only sitting on a mattress right now, because all their blankets and sheets are still in boxes, but there are some pillows near the headframe, so that’s kind of fun. Shuichi decides that thinking about the pillows counts as trying to distract himself from what’s going on. Rantaro’s hands are warm when they takes both of Shuichi’s, relaxing them back out of fists and intertwining their fingers. “You don’t have to lie to me, y’know.” He says quietly.
“Mmm.” Shuichi swallows. Today isn’t really supposed to be a sad day, though. It’s a happy day. They’re moving in together. (Well, sort of.) They had technically already lived together, what with their traveling together and all, but it was never official like this. They had Hope’s Peak, for sure, but that was their school, where they slept in different dorms. And it was never uniquely theirs, either. This apartment doesn’t belong to Kokichi and Tsumugi and Kaito and all of their friends. It belongs to them. Just them. The two of them and no one else. Shuichi was expecting to feel a giddy kind of excitement today. Uncontainable happiness. Instead he just sort of wants to melt into a puddle on the ground.
“You also don’t have to talk about it, though.” Rantaro adds. “We can put on a movie if you’d like. I have some David Suchet Poirot movies on my laptop that we could-”
“You know that you can leave if you want to, right?” Shuichi blurts, and Rantaro looks so startled by the abrupt subject change that he immediately backpedals, hating the way those words sounded out of his mouth, hating that he even said them to begin with. Already everything is tasting bitter with regret, and now he really wants to cry, but he tries to refrain because he would feel bad if he did. “I-I just- s-sorry, that was stupid, I shouldn’t-”
“Shuichi,” Rantaro cuts him off, and he sounds so terribly worried that Shuichi wants to dig a hole and perhaps die in it. “What makes you think that I want to leave?”
“I don’t think that,” he starts to say, and then wonders if that’s entirely true, but decides to just leave it be for the moment. There’s a difference between meritless fears and the actual concerns that he has right now, and he should try to make it clear to himself so he doesn’t end up freaking Rantaro out. “I don’t think you- want to leave me- right now.” Shuichi bites his lip and tears away his gaze, because he just doesn’t want to know what face his boyfriend is making right now. “But if you ever do, for any reason, you- you can, that’s all. If you want to.”
When Rantaro doesn’t say anything, Shuichi has to swallow down the urge to panic. Of course he’s not saying anything, what could he even say to that? Shuichi is putting him in a really uncomfortable position right now and he should really just stop talking.
“Not that I want you to leave, at all, actually, but I-” Shuichi bites his lip. “I mean, sometimes I think- well, alright, no, but I- it’s possible that- all I mean is-” he huffs out a sigh and it comes out so shaky that he almost starts to sob. “I just mean that it wouldn’t surprise me if you felt pressured to stay with me, and if that’s not what you want- to- to be with me, that is- then you don’t have to.”
“Why would I feel pressured to stay with you?” He still hasn’t met Rantaro’s eyes, but Shuichi can hear him frowning from his voice; in fact, he knows the exact expression that his boyfriend is making right now, the way his brows furrow together and his eyes darken, like he’s worried but trying not to make a big show of it. Shuichi turns his whole head away now, rather than just his eyes, because he doesn’t want Rantaro to be able to see his expression right now either.
“Ah, just, well,” he flounders a bit for words, despite the fact that they’re all swirling around in his head. “Y’know, I- I’m helping you to find your sisters, and all- that could- that could come off as a conditional thing, and- and it’s not, y’know, so even if you decide to leave me I’ll still help you. U-Unless you don’t want me to help you, in which case that’s fine.” His voice breaks. “Uhm, I, there’s-”
“Shu,” Rantaro breathes out, but doesn’t continue, so Shuichi forces himself to keep talking.
“There’s also the fact that I’m-” Shuichi breaks off completely, trying to make himself say it, because he doesn’t want to say it, but Rantaro isn’t saying anything which means he absolutely has to say it, and Rantaro is waiting for him to say it. “I’m- kind of-” he closes his eyes and manages to whimper, “a bit fucked up.”
“Oh, Shuichi…”
“A-And you’d probably feel bad leaving someone who-” he sniffs, taking away one of his hands to wipe at the tears that have begun to fall down his face with one of his sleeves. Everything feels so heavy- usually sharing things like this with Rantaro feels like a release, like he’s able to finally let go of so much of the weight he’s been carrying for so long, but right now with every additional word he just feels worse and worse, like he’s being buried in his mistakes. He shouldn’t even be saying all of this. He’s just going to make Rantaro feel more terrible in the long run, when he inevitably- well, Shuichi doesn’t even really want to finish that thought. At all, actually. “Who-” he can’t make himself keep talking. He tries to force out another word but he can’t. They’re all getting trapped in his throat, mixing and swirling together into one big mass of black ink in his brain and it’s making him feel so sluggish and murky, like he can barely breathes.
Instead, what comes out is a sob, and then there are arms around him, and Shuichi presses his forehead against Rantaro’s shoulder because he wants to hide his face rather than because he wants to take refuge in his boyfriend’s arms. He can feel it, the pull of security from Rantaro’s embrace, the warmth and the familiar scent, but he just can’t seem to make himself indulge in it. It feels like taking something that isn’t even his. It feels like he’s being selfish, enjoying the comfort that comes with Rantaro’s presence, when the other man will inevitably be gone someday, just like everyone else.
He tries to apologise, but it all just comes out muffled and jagged.
“Shuichi,” Rantaro’s voice is louder than it sounds, probably. Shuichi shudders at the way Rantaro says his name, so serious and almost desperate. “Shuichi, I’m never going to want to leave you.”
And even though he doesn’t want to Shuichi can’t help it when he says, “You don’t know that.” And then he pulls back, finally making himself meet Rantaro’s eyes, unable to stop his tears from falling even though he really wishes that they would stop. The look on Rantaro’s face is so stricken, like he’s in physical pain, and it makes Shuichi’s heart crawl into his throat, but he keeps talking anyway. “You don’t know that you’ll never want to leave me, you can’t know that because the future isn’t set in stone and we’re so y-young and yeah you feel one way right now but s-someday you’re going to realise that I’m not really worth sticking around and then-” he hiccups a bit, pinching the bridge of his nose. “A-And then that’ll be okay, because you don’t- you don’t have to stay.”
“That’s wrong.” Rantaro says quietly, and when he reaches out to touch Shuichi’s face, the detective allows him to place his hands. “I can know that I’ll never want to leave you.”
“N-No,” Shuichi tries to shake his head, though he finds it difficult with Rantaro cupping both sides of his face. He inhales. “You can’t, that’s not-”
“Have you ever met yourself, Shuichi?” Rantaro interrupts, and then Shuichi does look directly at him, without pulling his gaze away, because he’s startled and he doesn’t really know how to respond. “Because if you had, you’d understand why it baffles me that anyone would want to leave you, ever, for any reason.” He sounds so serious and genuine, but… but… “When I look at you, it always makes me smile to think about the possibility that you’d let me spend the rest of my life with you. Do you know what a privilege that would be, for me to get to be by you forever?”
“I can’t talk about forever,” but Shuichi’s protest is quiet now, weak. “I can’t act like- like everything’s going to stay the same, because something might happen, that’s out of my control, and then I-” he breaks off. “I can’t act like you’re not going to leave because everyone leaves eventually.”
“Shuichi,” Rantaro murmurs.
“A-And it’s not really- their fault when they do. Leave, that is.” Shuichi clears his throat. It feels violent. “Because I’m- I-” he closes his eyes all over again, but the end of his sentence comes out quiet and resigned, this time, in what is barely more than a whisper. “I would leave me too.”
“No no no, Shuichi, don’t- hey, hey,” Rantaro pulls him back into an embrace, and this time Shuichi doesn’t have the energy to stop himself from melting into it, from practically dissolving into nothing in Rantaro’s arms. “C’mon, you can’t-” he breaks off, perhaps grasping for the right thing to say and coming up empty. “Don’t even think that about yourself, Shuichi, it’s not- you’re-” one of his hands comes to rest on the back of Shuichi’s head, and the detective grips at his shirt with both hands, trying not to worry about the fact that he’s getting all sorts of wrinkles in it. (God, he wishes he could just be happy, so Rantaro wouldn’t have to fumble for words like this.) “You’re so wonderful, Shuichi, I love you so much.”
And when he says that Shuichi sobs, digging his nails into his palms through Rantaro’s shirt, and shudders, even though he’s probably already shaking. He doesn’t even know why he’s doing this, why all of this is coming up today of all days. It sorts of ruins the point of telling Rantaro he can leave if he ever wants to if he has a meltdown afterwards. Shuichi tries not to think about that, but on top of all the other things he’s trying so hard not to think about it just all feels way too heavy and he can’t bear it. He sobs out an apology, because there’s so much else that he wants to say but he just doesn’t feel strong enough.
“Don’t apologise,” Rantaro’s voice is almost tearful, which makes Shuichi feel worse, arguably, but he doesn’t have the energy to pull out and try to amend the situation right now. He just shudders again, and Rantaro threads his fingers through his hair, massaging the back of his neck and the base of his scalp and it has never occurred to Shuichi before how nice the skin-on-skin contact feels, how soothing it is to have Rantaro’s callused hand on the back of his neck.
Shuichi wishes that he could stop crying, that he could skip ahead to that part after his meltdowns where he feels light and nothing can touch him and he’s no longer bawling into his boyfriend’s shoulder, but thinking about that just makes him want to cry more. Everything feels so bad, tainted, almost- thinking about anything else just makes him want to cry over it. He doesn’t know what to do. Or how to stop.
So he doesn’t do anything. He just sits there, in Rantaro’s arms, and lets his boyfriend hold him while he cries, and then eventually his tears do run out, and everything starts to feel numb and void of feeling. (Or maybe he’s just tired.)
Rantaro moves him, so that he’s lying on the bed rather than sitting on the edge, and rises to his feet, saying something about a blanket. But when his arms start to slip out from around Shuichi’s body he reaches out and grabs Rantaro’s wrist. He knows what he just said, about it being okay if Rantaro leaves, but… (they probably both know that’s a lie, anyway, right?) he just can’t really stand the idea of his boyfriend stepping away right now.
“I-I’m sorry,” Shuichi manages to say, and his voice sounds hoarse. He can barely see the expression Rantaro’s making, looking at him, but he knows that he’s concerned. “But… please, don’t… please don’t leave me.”
“...I’m not going anywhere.” Rantaro murmurs, and it’s just as much of a promise now as it was when he said it three years ago, before they were even dating. And then he pauses, like he’s wondering if he should go grab the blanket anyway, but then he seems to decide to just stay, because he crawls on top of the mattress next to Shuichi, shoving pillows underneath their heads before sliding his arms around the detective’s waist. “Get some rest, it’s been a long day.”
“I…” Shuichi hesitates, even though he knows Rantaro is right that he should just rest. “But… shouldn’t we…”
“We can talk about it tomorrow morning, when you feel better. Or if you don’t. Whichever is okay.” Rantaro promises, pressing gentle kiss to Shuichi’s forehead. “I got you, alright, Shuichi? I’m staying right here. As long as you want me to.” It sounds so real, so solid, and Shuichi’s mind tells him that there’s no way he can know that but his heart tells him that he just wants it to be true, so badly, that… he wouldn’t really mind believing it, a little bit.
Before he closes his eyes, Shuichi whispers, “I love you,” and stops himself from tacking on another apology. He thinks Rantaro can tell, though, because his green eyes are sad when he smiles and returns the sentiment.
His hold around Shuichi’s waist, though, is as tight and secure as ever, and it’s with that thought at the very front of his mind that Shuichi eventually falls asleep, exhausted from the day, and the tears, and all the strength it took to keep all of that in.
(Quietly, once he knows Shuichi is fast asleep, Rantaro mumbles, “I’m not leaving,” out loud, even though he knows his boyfriend can’t hear him. He’s not sure who he’s saying it to, but he knows for a fact that he means it, in the forever sense of the term.)