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“You can be selfish with me, Tooru! Why can’t you understand that?”
Tooru gripped the steering wheel harder, eyes set in a hard glare on the road. He’s driving a little too fast and he’s not quite staying in the middle of the lane; he can hear his stupid little husband’s voice telling him to slow the fuck down, Tooru!, but he doesn’t bother to try and care. His blood is rushing in his ears, frustration and overwhelming irritation still crashing over him like a burning tidal wave.
“I’m upset because you don’t discuss these things with me, Tooru, not because you’re doing them!” Koushi’s voice had been thin, wore down and resigned. He was tired of the fight, the one they have once every other month consistently.
This time had been so different, though. Koushi sounded defeated before he even confronted Tooru. Usually he comes alive during an argument, waving his arms wildly while his eyes flash.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t support you with this? Have I done anything to make you think you need to do these things behind my back?!”
Tooru sneered, building his defensive wall as quickly as he could. No, he hadn’t thought that Koushi would have tried to stop him. He was just… scared. Moving all the way across the country was a big deal, one he had sat on for months before agreeing to. There were so many instances where he almost spilled his dilemma to his husband, craved his input and comfort, but he just couldn’t. It had built up inside of him like a bubbling volcano, ready and trying to erupt, but the brunette had strained to keep it pushed down deep under the surface.
Part of Tooru had been scared, that Koushi would refuse to go with him or deny him any support, that it would be too much for the school teacher. And Tooru’s fear has always manifested itself as tall walls wrapped in thorny bramble.
“It’s my fucking business, not yours! Why are you so pushy that I tell you everything?!”
How does one tell their husband that they accepted an offer to coach a volleyball team more than a day’s drive away, that they would have to move come the end of the year, that Tooru had just overthrown all of their plans for the future here in Miyagi?
Koushi just sighed, confliction flickering through his tired gaze as he looked away. “Just go.”
Tooru stared at him, stunned. He had expected another screaming match at his words, not-
“What?”
“I said go! I don’t want to look at you right now, and I’m not fucking leaving. I’m not the one who decides to move cross country without ever telling his-” Koushi’s voice cracked. “-his husband! Do you not want me to go with you? Is that it?” The ‘ are you constantly keeping me out of your plans because you don’t want me to be a part of them’ was left unsaid, but screaming in the desperation of his narrowed coffee eyes.
“Fine, then! If you really want me to leave, I will. See if I fucking come back.” The blow was a harsh one, and deliberately so. He was hurt and lashing out, but judging by the unimpressed eyebrow Koushi raised, his attempt to hurt the silvernette didn’t work.
He’s not even angry, not really, not at Koushi. But his nails still dig into the grip of the steering wheel and adrenaline still courses through his veins, and the road is still tinged with red as he drives. He’s breathing heavily, eyebrows furrowed in a way that’s probably less than pretty, and he has to slam on the brakes as he comes too fast to the familiar intersection.
He slows as he drives through the school zone, his irritation slowly, slowly dripping away. His husband teaches at this school, they bought their first house together only a few blocks away from it.
He turns left, still deaccelerating. Cute little houses pass by in a smudged blur, becoming more and more clear as he slows, as he nears the street he knows so well.
He hasn’t even lasted fifteen minutes, he already is finding himself on the road to home.
There’s a lump forming in his throat, choking him as he tries to swallow around it. Hot tears are stinging in his eyes, blurring his vision and making the white dashes on the street swim. He can feel the ghost of Koushi’s fingertips brushing against his skin under his eyes, wiping away the tears with a chasiting smile, but he wants- he craves- the real thing. Even though he’s terrified of the mess he created with his own hands, even though he knows he doesn’t deserve his husband’s touch and comfort, his skin and his lungs and his heart craves it so desperately.
“You can be selfish with me, Tooru! Why can’t you understand that?”
“God, you’re so annoying,” he mutters under his breath, sniffing loudly. He can see their house now, the little one-story thing. They could afford more, quite a bit more, but Koushi had insisted that they buy something smaller and a bit more temporary. Maybe even at that time Koushi had known about Tooru’s ambitions, desire for a bit more than a coaching job for a small high school in a small prefecture.
There are several bright green potted plants scattered all over their porch, blooming and bursting and beautiful, and a porch swing that they love to curl up on in the mornings with steaming cups of too-sweet coffee.
A sob wracks Tooru’s frame as he pulls into the driveway, sudden and small but it makes his nose run and the sea of tears in his eyes run down his face.
He doesn’t want to ruin any of this. He wishes that he had had the courage to tell Koushi about the job offer; he wishes he told Koushi about it despite his anxiety and cowardice; he wishes he had declined the offer.
The bright red front door is swinging open before Tooru is even fully stepped out of the car. Koushi bursts outside, hair a mess and eyes rimmed with red. He runs to Tooru, sprints, sweatpants rumpled and baggy t-shirt that isn’t his own stained at the front with tears because Koushi is the type to do that, wipe his tears with the front of his shirt.
The silvernette slams into Tooru with full force, pushing him against the closed door of the car while he wraps his arms around his shoulders tight and sinks into him, nose pressed against his neck.
“Oh my god, Tooru I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” Koushi chants the apologies, fingers digging into the fabric of Tooru’s shirt and twisting it. “I don’t want you to go, I really don’t,” he’s sobbing now, just like his husband, pulling away to grab Tooru’s face in his hands and wipe away tears twin to his own, just like the brunette had wanted, just like he wants.
The taller man brings his hands to Koushi’s wrists, holding them gently as he sniffs back wet snot. Relief and love are crashing over him warmly, hesitant though he welcomes it selfishly. “I love you,” he whimpers, voice wobbling. He doesn’t know how to start apologizing, he doesn’t know how to start admitting all of his fears and insecurities and anxieties that continue to force him to hold back telling Koushi about his decisions.
“It’s okay,” Koushi whispers, leaning up and pulling Tooru down. The sun is setting, stretching shadows and blankets of muted pink and orange over them, and tomorrow will be a new day. “It’s okay, Tooru, I understand. We can- we can talk tomorrow, okay? I know you had reason, stupid, stupid reasons, but I know that you love me. I love you too, so we’ll work through this, okay? I love you so much, we’re okay.”
And then their lips are pressed together, soft and tasting like home, and even though their tears are mixing and catching on their pewter eyelashes, even though Tooru is sobbing into their kiss, everything is okay.