Work Text:
***
There was no denying that Akaashi Keiji is a closeted perfectionist who can never say no.
“Hey Akaashi, can you take on this side project? It’s not that big, promise.” Sure. (I have two other small projects though, but it’s fine.)
“Good work on the last article! I’m sending you across the city for this new scoop.” Yes, sir. (At least they’re paying for the commute fare.)
“We have an emergency meeting in five minutes.” I’m logging in now. (Even if it’s 8 AM on a Saturday and I literally just got up.)
He would very much want to say no to a few things; he knows he can, and maybe someday, he might have to if it meant giving his mental health a break. Or if either his body or his mind break first—he’s not picky.
But now is not that time.
Work is piling up and there were a lot of events to cover in the office, and anyway, he wasn’t the only one working overtime, right? Everyone else is suffering and having a hard time and he really isn’t that special. So just make another cup of coffee (how many have I had today?), sit back down (is that my back I heard?), and finish up your work.
Time does not exist. Night and day have no difference as Keiji sits hunched over at his desk in his work room, face illuminated by a lamp and the glare of his laptop screen. The curtains are drawn, the door is locked, and the silence is punctured only by the clack of his keyboard keys and the notifications whenever he got a new email. And the occasional frustrated sigh and creak of his lower back.
Keiji doesn’t know how long he’s been in that hole. Not until a certain ball of sunshine knocks heavily on the door.
“Dinner, Keiji?”
“Later, Kou. I just have to finish this.”
There was a sharp skidding sound against the other side of the door; probably Kotaro’s palm sliding against the lacquered wood. His voice was softer, dejected, when it came through again.
“You said that many times already,” but the agenda wasn’t pushed through and Keiji heard his boyfriend shuffle away from the work room.
Keiji looks around the room, eyes blinded by the sudden transition between fluorescent glare and utter darkness. When he finds his phone, its LED flashed on his face, not very kind to his tired eyes.
23:00.
Kotaro never stayed up that late. He had his daily morning jog so he was usually in bed around 9 PM. Keiji sighs, but relents and shuts down his laptop and switches off the lamp. Immediately the room plunges into darkness and he really should have opened the door or something before doing that.
He gets up and promptly trips over his laptop charger, falling blindly on the floor with a swear and a heavy thud.
“Keiji? You alright in there?”
Keiji opens the door, and was greeted by a dim living room. The only lights on were in the kitchen, where Kotaro was bent over the sink, washing dishes. It was kinder on his eyes, rather than having all the lights in the apartment turned on.
“Did you eat?”
Kotaro nods as he finishes up the last of the cleaning up. “I stored some in the fridge, if you’re hungry. Do you want me to heat it? Can you wait for that?”
Guilt stabs at Keiji as he sits himself at the dining table. He pushes his glasses up in his hair, rubbing his eyes.
“I could use a break.”
He heard Kotaro breathe a happy sigh, and after a few seconds came the whir of the microwave. Before it was even done, Kotaro sat down in front of him with a steaming mug of tea.
“Chamomile,” says Kotaro before he even got the chance to ask. “No caffeine. You’ve had enough coffee for today.”
Keiji smiles despite himself and he wraps his fingers around the mug. It was his owl mug, one of a pair, and he sees Kotaro gets his own on the way to get the dinner plate from the microwave.
“Here. Hope you like it.”
It was a simple affair: steaming omurice with ketchup drizzled on top. What made it extra special were the words written on the egg: “fight, Keiji!”
Kotaro always knew what it took to get to him.
“Thank you for the food, Kou.”
A few bites in, Keiji says, “You should be in bed.” Now that Keiji noticed it, Kotaro was already in his pajamas and his hair was unmade. (Did he roll out of bed to check if I’d eaten?)
Kotaro shrugs as he takes a sip of his tea. “So should you.”
The man in question sighs. “Work.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was the casual way it was said that pokes at his guilt. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the irritation of having to do so many things he doesn’t want to fucking do but has to because it’s his job, right?
Whatever the reason, Keiji snaps.
“Look, just because you have a stable job doing what you like and having other people do stuff for you doesn’t make you entitled to berate me for working hard to keep my own job. I have to do this.”
Kotaro blinks, and Keiji just misses how he switches over to walking on eggshells. “Never said you didn’t.”
Keiji isn’t done.
“I have so much left over on my to-do list and it never runs out because every other hour another task gets added to the mix and it’s all a mess honestly because some tasks are more important that others because it’s demanded by more important people apparently and can’t they just work on it on their own? All it takes it a fucking email!”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Keiji fixes a Kotaro with a glare so intense that the bigger man holds up both his hands. “Sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“No… But get off my back, Kou. I need to finish these things and your stupid chamomile tea is making me sleepy and you staying up past your regular bedtime is making me anxious because you need your sleep but instead, you’re staying up because I’m still up. And that’s not helping me at all.”
“I wasn’t… I tried not to…” Kotaro frowns, backtracks and takes a different route. “You need your sleep too.”
“Weren’t you listening? I need to finish these. I don’t need sleep.”
“Yeah you do. You won’t finish them if you crash. Isn’t that worse? If you end up getting sick, you’ll miss work anyway.”
What Kotaro said makes sense. He’s absolutely right. But Keiji needs to answer those messages when they arrive. He needs to be on-call all the time. (It’s like I’m a doctor or something.) Especially now. He doesn’t want to be a burden. He doesn’t want to fall behind. He wants to finish things. He wants to accomplish things. He wants to do well.
“Keiji.”
He looks up, and Kotaro was kneeling in front of him, both hands on either of his knees. He didn’t know when he’d turned to the side, when he’d bent over. He didn’t know when he started crying.
“May I ask you to lie down with me? Just for a bit. I’ll put an alarm for five minutes. Please, Keiji?”
Everything about his to-do list and the phone he left—(oh god)—in his work room screamed against it. He needed to get back in there. Did he finish his dinner? Whatever, it’ll be there when he gets out again, when he’s finished his work.
If he finishes with work.
Will Kotaro still be out here?
Shit. Not the rabbit hole he wants to fall into right now.
“Keiji. You’re disappearing on me.”
“Sorry, I…”
Then he made the mistake of looking directly at Kotaro.
Golden eyes, warmed by the yellow kitchen lights stare back at him with such affection that makes his heart ache. (He always had such beautiful, expressive eyes.) His hair hung in tendrils over his face, unmade and soft, Keiji knew, from combing through them himself. (When was the last time he did that?) His face hopeful, with just the tinge of doubt at the edges in case Keiji says no. (And how could he say no?) His hands rested tentatively on his knees, thumbs circling his skin gently. A coaxing.
How could he resist this?
Keiji sighs. “Five minutes.”
The way Kotaro’s face lights up was almost reward enough. Before Keiji could stand, Kotaro picks him up right off the chair and carries him to their bedroom, where he set him down gently on the bed. As Keiji removes his cardigan, Kotaro went out to bring both their mugs inside and placed them on the side table.
“In case you want to drink.”
Kotaro settles in bed beside him, and Keiji lets him wrap his arms around his frame and snuggled them both under the blanket.
“Should I turn the lamp off?”
“No, I might fall asleep. Set your alarm, please.”
“Alright.”
Keiji curls in against Kotaro’s chest, warm and content. For a second, he let himself not think of work or deadlines or messages. Kotaro’s heart beat calm and steady beneath his ear, and he doesn’t notice when he fell asleep.
The alarm goes off promptly after five minutes, and Keiji doesn’t stir an inch. Kotaro, no matter how much he wanted them both to sleep through the night, knew he can’t let Keiji do it without asking first.
“Bunny, the alarm went off. You might want to get up.”
Keiji was floating in a cocoon of warmth and softness and drowsiness. He cracks one eye open, then another until he was squinting up at Kotaro. The lamp was still on, the tea in their mugs still pretty warm.
“You stayed up?”
“No one would wake you. You slept through my first snooze.”
Keiji blinks. Kotaro stayed awake to wake him up when he could have fallen asleep, could have let them both snooze the night away. And Keiji would have woken up angry and frustrated at everything because he let an evening go to waste.
Would it have been a waste?
“Kou?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll sleep. Let’s sleep.”
“Are you sure? You said you have a few stuff lined up. I could make you another mug of coffee if you need it. Just one more, though.”
How he loves this man.
“No, it’s okay. They can wait. I’m tired. I want to stay here. With you.”
In response, Kotaro hugs Keiji tighter, and started combing his jet-black hair with his fingers. The way Keiji likes it when he used to have more time to sleep.
“I’d love nothing more.”
As they lapsed into soft breathing and comfortable silence, Keiji reflects. If the world were to end tomorrow (God forbid though), he really would rather be found in Kotaro’s arms than holed up in his work room. Through everything, Kotaro had been there: when he stayed late in the office, when he stayed awake through an entire week, when he was basically unapproachable because of work.
He realized how he had prioritized work above all else, how Kotaro had been patient through it all and knew what was important to Keiji. Kotaro could have easily walked out of his life without him noticing.
But he was always right outside, waiting for Keiji to come out.
“Kou.”
“Hm?”
“Will you stay with me?” (For always?)
He felt Kotaro smile against his hair, felt the flutter of a kiss he placed on the crown on his head.
“For always.”
***