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Their relationship came to a standstill the moment Gyoumei walked into their living room. He couldn’t see, but he could hear and what he’d heard was indisputable.
A flurried excuse and introduction didn’t beget a casual friend coming around to hang out. Her voice was high and embarrassed; Gyoumei had learned how to discern people’s true feelings from their voices long ago. Sanemi sounded irritated and rushed things to an end, even though Gyoumei had insisted guests were fine, that he’d only been caught off guard -
“- because I thought you were supposed to be at work,” Gyoumei explained, his voice carefully quiet. Sanemi had tried to turn things around on him in that moment, and that was what confirmed it for Gyoumei. Sanemi had deflected so quickly -
“- why aren’t you training with Genya right now?”
It was a silly question, because if Sanemi had been paying attention to anything but his libido the past few months, he’d known that Genya’s gym days were eventually going to switch from Tuesdays to Thursdays with his new club activities for the semester. In fact, Genya was the only reason Gyoumei was trying to be civil and hold it together as well as he was. Genya had become like his own little brother, and he loved him as such. He didn’t want to end their relationship, regardless of what happened with him and Sanemi, but Sanemi made it so damn hard.
“Don’t lie to me,” Gyoumei said softly. “I know you’ve been seeing someone on the side.”
Sanemi scoffed.
“But in our own home?” Gyoumei’s voice dropped even lower in volume. The calm before the storm had arrived.
Sanemi tried to sneak out of the room - the cowardice made Gyoumei snap, and he reached out to stop Sanemi from leaving. Sanemi wrenched his arm back, but Gyoumei was finally using his real strength against him. It hurts, Sanemi realized, but then it probably doesn’t compare to what Gyoumei is feeling.
“She’s just a friend, my professor that I TA for, in fact,” Sanemi growled, tugging to get his arm free again. Gyoumei shoved him with ease, and Sanemi stumbled, catching himself on the couch.
Gyoumei hated fighting with Sanemi, because he could be so cold and calculating, while Gyoumei tended to find himself lost in his feelings. It wasn’t easy staying calm, but it was necessary or else Sanemi would dismiss him as “irrational” and “sensitive.”
But he knew what he’d heard, and he hated being treated like an idiot. His instincts had kept him alive for twenty-seven years; they wouldn’t fail him now.
“You said your professor was a guy,” Gyoumei whispered. “Did you change courses in the middle of the semester?”
Silence. “You’re misremembering things. I told you before about Kanae.”
Gyoumei couldn’t see, but he could distinguish shapes between light and dark, could make out the outline of things if they were large enough. He could see Sanemi hunched over the kitchen counter, head probably in his hands, and he could hear him breathing hard.
“So you brought your professor over to our home alone, and did what?”
“Why are you interrogating me?” Sanemi snapped, suddenly sitting up and pacing around the kitchen. “I don’t owe you any answers!”
Gyoumei froze for a moment, and then his hand reached out for the shape nearest to him, and smacked it to the ground. It was a picture frame, and it landed with a deafening crash against the linoleum, pieces of glass scattering across the floor. It was probably the picture of them on their first anniversary at the beach. The memory normally brought butterflies to Gyoumei's chest, but now it only left maggots crawling in the pit of his stomach.
“Try again,” Gyoumei hissed, stomping across the glass and ignoring the pain of the glass digging into his feet. The pain grounded him, reminded him that this fight wasn’t worth his energy, and he should just pack his shit and leave. This wasn’t the first time Sanemi had done something suspicious, but this was the first time he’d flat out denied it all. He'd warned him before that at the first sign of adultery, he'd leave and never look back. Sanemi had reassured him that would never happen, that okay, maybe I was too friendly, and I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to leave, baby, please -
“You wanna break shit? You wanna have a tantrum? Fine, I can too!” And then the sound of a ceramic vase smashing filled Gyoumei’s ears. If that was the bonsai Genya had given him as a Christmas present -
“You’re the lowest of the low, your fucking scumbag,” Gyoumei cornered Sanemi against the counter. He never used their size difference against him, but today was different; Gyoumei had abandoned his lifelong patience for the first time because it seemed like being nice was getting nowhere with Sanemi. “You really want to throw away everything we have for some fucking undergrad pussy?”
Hearing himself swear was like being possessed by some unknown force. He never spoke like this, no matter how exhausted or upset he was. It took a lot to even rile Gyoumei enough to voice his displeasure, and yet every time…
This was why he had fallen in love with Sanemi. Sanemi made him feel things deeper, harder than he ever felt before. He knew of happiness, but he hadn’t known joy. He knew of loss, but he hadn’t felt despair the way he had when the thought of Sanemi leaving his life for good first came across his mind. He had never felt anger, but Sanemi made him so damn furious and it was like discovering a new world, a new Gyoumei specifically. Sanemi was constantly teaching him new things about himself, even if they weren’t good things.
He didn’t know for instance, that he was capable of getting into a shouting and shoving match with someone smaller and weaker than him, much less his lover. Sanemi had tried to push him away, and Gyoumei grabbed his chin, forced his head back until it hit the cabinet door behind them. In the back of his mind he registered that he should be careful not to actually hurt Sanemi, but -
“- you couldn’t even dignify me with the respect of not bringing your mistress into our house!” Gyoumei yelled. Sanemi was shaking in his grip, but his voice indicated that he wasn’t backing down any time soon.
“You’re a selfish prick!” Sanemi spat. “You don’t even pay me any attention anymore! What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Sanemi tried to scratch at Gyoumei’s face, leaving angry welts across his cheeks. In response, Gyoumei's other hand snatched both of Sanemi's wrists in his own, pinning them to his chest.
“You’re supposed to communicate that to me, not go chasing ass!”
“You don’t want sex! You don’t want me to touch you! All you do is train Genya and go to work! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted to fuck him -”
Gyoumei didn’t know he was capable of raising a hand to Sanemi.
The crack of his fist against the wood silenced them both. A piece of the door fell to the counter next to them, and Sanemi shook even harder in his grasp.
Lost. They were so lost from where they began. How could all of this gone by Gyoumei’s notice?
When they first met, it was because Genya wanted a personal trainer, and Gyoumei had cheap rates. Sanemi had been doubtful of a blind man being able to give accurate feedback and training, but the results showed as Genya grew into a taller, muscular young man.
Sanemi had been humble in asking for lessons himself, and then a date.
Gyoumei knew it was a bad idea, because what if this exact thing happened? And Genya would be caught in the crossfire.
Gyoumei wasn't one to break rules, much less his own, but that was the first thing Sanemi taught him about himself.
“If you hit me I swear to - god, Gyoumei,” Sanemi’s voice cracked. “Let me fucking go.”
Gyoumei’s grip on his wrists tightened. “No.”
“Let me go!” Sanemi screamed, struggling with all his might. “I fucking hate you!”
This was how Gyoumei knew he was capable of loving unconditionally, because as angry as he was with Sanemi, as resentful as he was currently feeling, it still pained him to hear Sanemi say those words to him with such vitriol.
Sanemi was deeply emotional, reactive, and projected more than he’d ever care to admit. Those were his only flaws, and Gyoumei had learned over time, the accusations Sanemi hurled towards him more often than not could be said the same of Sanemi. It wasn’t that Gyoumei was sensitive or irrational - Sanemi just felt too deeply to discuss his feelings. He couldn't regulate his emotions in response to being forced to take accountability. He had so much pride in himself, that every possible misstep felt like a slight against him as a person.
“No you don’t,” Gyoumei muttered, hugging Sanemi close to him. “I’m sorry, love.”
Sanemi sucked in a deep breath and Gyoumei felt tears moistening his shirt. “Don’t apologize to your cheating, piece of shit boyfriend.”
Gyoumei squeezed him tighter. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t express yourself until it got this bad.”
“Stop -”
“I’m sorry I was so aggressive. I don’t want to hurt you,” Gyoumei whispered into his hair.
Sanemi desperately dug his fingers into Gyoumei’s side as he clung to him, shoulders shaking as he cried.
“I’m sorry, Gyoumei,” he sobbed. “I’m so fucking stupid, I’m sorry. I don’t even like her, I just - I don’t know what I was thinking, I-I-”
It wasn’t a fix for anything, but it was enough. For them, it’s enough.
Normally, Sanemi lead the both of them along, but now Gyoumei guided Sanemi past the evidence of their dispute and to the living room. He grunted at the sharp sting of glass and ceramic in his feet, and Sanemi responded swiftly, sniffing and wiping his face. Gyoumei gave in and sat on the couch, allowing Sanemi to clean and treat his wounds with deference. They sat in the silence of each other's company, and when Gyoumei felt Sanemi's lips brush against his shin in reverence, he reached down to caress his face.
"We'll be okay," Gyoumei muttered, wiping away a tear as it slid down Sanemi's cheek. "I promise you that, love."
Sanemi turned his face to press a kiss to Gyoumei's palm. Gyoumei smiled reassuringly, guided Sanemi up to the couch, and to his lips. Their lips met in a tentative, salt-stained kiss, and Sanemi sighed. He broke the kiss to bury his face in Gyoumei's neck and wrap himself around his boyfriend, hiding himself away in the comfort Gyoumei had to offer.