Work Text:
It took them about two years into the relationship when Nene had first proposed the idea on the fly.
“Why?” Kou had asked, though he wasn’t particularly against the idea. After all, he was fairly sure that between the both of them, it wasn’t objectively too daunting of an idea.
“I mean,” twiddling her thumbs, Nene had smiled shyly at Kou. “It would be easier for the both of us, since we visit each other so often. And I thought it would be a good practice… y’know?”
Only when he had realised what she meant, Kou’s face went aflame, and he nodded dumbly.
And then suddenly, they were house hunting for an apartment big enough for the both of them but affordable enough considering that Nene had just recently started her new job, and Kou was in his last year of culinary school, working part-time at a convenience store for extra cash.
But eventually they settled on a house. Crescent Street apartments, rising up 20 floors and shaped like a box. Their house was also shaped like a box, with box-shaped rooms attached to the main apartment room.
It was box-shaped. And cramped.
But it felt like home, after they painted the walls a faded mint-green and Nene decorated it with hordes of tiny ornaments scattered all around. It left them with even less space to manoeuvre in the little space they had, but neither of them would have traded it for anything else in the world.
There was a living room, dining room, and kitchen in a single space, and a small, flat-screen television set that Kou had somehow managed to figure out how to install on the wall.
The apartment sported a tiny bathroom and a single bedroom, with a single queen-sized bed that they shared. Nene had initially suggested they sleep separately, but after careful deliberation they settled on the cheaper alternative; sharing a bed.
The bedroom was cluttered with items, and so was the living room and the dining table. Kou was always cooking something on the stove when Nene came back from her work as an editor of a shoujo manga magazine. On weekends they would go out to the cinemas or window-shopping, or stay at home, curled up on the sofa and watching shows that Nene insisted on. Usually shoujo movies or anime, which Kou never said no to, because truth be told he enjoyed them too.
She kept her collection of shoujo manga on the shelves in their bedroom and Kou was only one-third of the way through them, but Nene would relentlessly giggle over his reactions, remarking about how he had become more attached to the heroines than she had.
At night they would sleep on their sides of the bed, waking up somehow tangled up in each other’s arms as sunlight streamed in—feeling the warmth on their face and blanket half-kicked off. Mornings like these had become a steady constant in Kou’s life. He couldn’t imagine a morning alone anymore. Not when she was nestled in his arms and breathing softly, her pale hair fanned out and her hands in curled fists, pressing against his chest.
Sometimes they would have arguments, though neither of them were even extremely confrontational people to begin with. Often, silly arguments; Nene would sulk because Kou dog-eared her favourite book, Kou would attempt to appease her, and in the end their disputes wouldn’t even last more than a couple minutes. And Nene would always notice how carefully her boyfriend would handle her books afterwards.
But most of the time they were content, idyllic, living comfortably even with the limited elbow-space. They gave way to each other when need be, and between their busy schedules they always somehow found time to become a home for each other.
Nene had left reruns of a drama playing on the television, but on accident she switched the channel to some programme on screen. The screen was suddenly lit up with glimmering colours amidst a crowd of people, and Nene realised it was the dresses of competitive ballroom dancers swishing as they danced alongside their partners, most dressed in significantly less glitz and glitter.
Dancing , she thought, ballroom dancing with all its glamour and gorgeousness and chandeliers.
She had always wanted to dance like this since she was a child. To feel how it was like in all those fairytale stories. To be a princess, swooning in the arms of her prince and being spun around in his arms.
Nene put down the remote control, standing up. Regardless of her ability, it wasn’t going to stop her from trying. Besides, it looked too fun to pass up.
Swaying, she held her hands up in the air, pretending to dance by herself—the reporters on screen had made a side comment, and called it shadow dancing, or something like that—until Kou walked in, arms full of folded laundry he was about to deposit into their wardrobe.
“Senpai?”
Nene let out a squeak, drawing back in embarrassment. She could feel her cheeks stained red.
Kou blinked. “Were you dancing?”
“Maybe,” she answered, twiddling her thumbs awkwardly. “It was on the TV, and it looked fun.”
Kou peered at the television screen and looked back at Nene, standing in the middle of their cramped living area, in her loose T-shirt and shorts and bare-footed. A pregnant moment passed before he shot her a sudden, bright grin and advanced towards her, abandoning his basket of laundry on the floor.
“Senpai, let’s dance!” He exclaimed, putting out a hand for her to take. Though, Kou scratched the back of his head with the other. “Well, I don’t really know how to dance. But you’re right, it does look fun.”
Nene felt the tips of her ears redden, and then she smiled. Kou’s grins were always contagious.
“That would be nice,” she said, putting her hand in his. She put her other hand on his shoulder and motioned for him to do the same to her hip. He hesitated, but did it anyway, his fingers barely grazing her shirt. Nene wanted to laugh, but instead she placed her hand over his, pressing so that his hand had a firm grip on her, before returning her hand to where it was resting on his shoulder. His hand was warm and fingers unsure of their grip, but Nene supposed that was as good as it was going to get for the moment.
They began, with unsteady footing, and she was convinced that they weren’t even close to replicating anything on the television. But even so, they slowly managed to fall into rhythm, though they still couldn't help accidentally stepping on each other’s toes with quiet, humoured “Ow”s and “Sorry”s.
Her head was pressed into the crook of his neck, savouring the heat emanating from his body, and the thrumming of his heart, steady but still beating rapidly. Her sloppy form and this posture was throwing them off form, but Kou didn’t comment on it, instead opting to release her hand so that he could circle around her waist, lightly. They stumbled between the furniture in their small apartment, flushed and breathless with laughter when Kou made a wrong step and ended up squished in an awkward position between the wall and the sofa. And somehow they winded up in a tangle of limbs on the sofa, the announcer on the channel still droning on, the music switched to a mash of classic and pop. Nene was lying atop Kou, both of them still rosy-cheeked from the exercise and grinning.
“This is nice,” she said, brushing the hair out of his eyes and watching the crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he smiled sweetly at her.
“ Really nice,” Kou replied, and Nene found herself tracing his face with her eyes, committing the moment to memory, his breathtaking smile under the artificial lights and under her.
Nene let him reach up to press a kiss behind her ears, and pressed to him at 8 o’clock, in their tiny box apartment, she felt the happiest she had ever been.