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Nagito gently ushered Hajime out of the kitchen, a smile plastered on his face as Hajime walked out, all but dragging his feet into the living room.
“Come on, trust me! I can do it this time, I won’t disappoint you, Hajime.” He assured him once they reached the edge of the couch, nudging Hajime to sit down, but he stayed still, pouting his bottom lip.
“I...don’t know. I mean, how much could possibly change over a course of a couple days?” His gaze flicked up to look into Nagito’s eyes for a split second, before flitting his eyes back down to stare at his feet, features twisted into concern.
“Oh don’t worry, my luck has been much, much better!” Nagito grinned, nodding his head. “Yesterday, I fell face first in front of Sonia-san down the stairs and then afterwards, I found out that they ran out of Blue Ram at the market! You know what this means by now, don’t you, Hajime?”
Hajime let out a breathless chuckle. “I mean, yeah, it means that it’ll all turn around eventually but still…” He shrugged, before his eyebrows knitted together. “Hey wait, you fell?!”
“Ahaha, it wasn’t a bad fall.”
“But - it was down the stairs?? And is that why you had that bandage wrapped on your head?”
“Maybe, but...I didn’t want to worry you!” Nagito frowned. “You were already busy enough as it was yesterday.”
“You could’ve-
“It wasn’t a bad fall.” Nagito pressed a light kiss to Hajime’s forehead, causing the other boy’s expression to melt from concern to fondness.
“Ugh. Fine. You can’t always make me drop these kinds of things with kisses though, you know?”
Nagito giggled lightly. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He snapped out of his happy reverie before saying, “But! Back to what I was saying. I’m sure I can wash the dishes this time. So just-”
Nagito placed his hands on both of Hajime’s shoulders and pushed him down so he had no choice but to sit, staring up at Nagito with a small smile now. “-relax, okay? You’ve been working so hard this entire week...let me do something for you.”
“Ah...fine...I’ll trust you. No more breaking dishes, alright? Please?” Hajime’s mismatched irises finally met Nagito’s faded, green ones, eyes full of what Nagito could only recognize as exhaustion, making his heart hurt. “I’m kind of tired of having to buy them at the market every other day...and then asking Future Foundation for more.”
“Mmm.” Nagito nodded furiously. He was determined not to let his boyfriend down. “I’m sorry, I’ll be careful, and even then, I’m confident there will be no broken dishes tonight!”
Hajime cracked a smile, bringing Nagito’s right hand down to kiss it gently. “Okay, thanks Nagito.”
“Of course! It’s the least I can do...I’m already useless enough as it-”
“Alright, alright, none of that right now, okay? Get working on those dishes.”
“Ah, right!” Nagito pulled his hand from Hajime’s soft grasp, and turned on his heels to quickly return to the kitchen.
————
Once he was in front of the sink, he stared down at the dishes with narrowed eyes, slapping on washing gloves over his hands. These dishes have been giving him the absolute worst time throughout the span of two weeks. Nagito had always been tasked with washing the dishes and doing the chores at home, but only recently had he started messing up.
Working with clumsy hands, he’d broken at least two entire sets of dishes, leaving Hajime with even more errands to run. Hajime had always tried to be understanding and compliant when it happened, since he knew it wasn’t directly Nagito’s fault, but he could tell that his patience was starting to run thin.
The last time he had broken dishes, Hajime was silent as Nagito ran his mouth with apologies and self-deprecating words on how worthless he was, how horrible, absolutely disgusting he was for breaking Hajime’s dishes, how he was so, so, sorry before Hajime interrupted him with a curt, “Stop. It’s okay. I’ll wash the dishes from now on.”
He had walked away, with the broken remains in a dustpan and emptied them into the trash, before audibly sighing and going into the bathroom to wash up for the night. Nagito had stood there alone in the kitchen, arms hugging himself and tears threatening to spill from his eyes all while staring at the tiles. He finally settled on making some tea for Hajime to show how sorry he was.
Now was the first time he was washing them again since that incident, and it had been a couple days. He stared determinedly at the dishes. I won’t disappoint you, Hajime.
He picked up the first one, a medium-sized bowl that they used to eat soup in that night, made by Hajime, of course, with slightly shaking hands, probably from fear that he’d drop it. But he quickly composed himself, using a breathing technique that Hajime had taught him a while back.
He scrubbed, letting some forgotten vegetable pieces swirl down the drain, and made sure no leftover oil stains were left behind, before smiling contently and putting it in the drying rack successfully.
But he only then realized that he had much more to go through, and slumped slightly, before regaining composure. If he did well for the first one, he could do well for the rest of the dishes. He sighed through his nose, and picked up the next one, a large plate that had been there since the night before and was probably left neglected since Hajime had been too tired to finish washing them all yesterday. He tightened his grip on it to make sure it wouldn’t slip, and rubbed the soapy sponge on the plate.
It’s time to really get to work.
————
Though it took quite a long while to finish washing, what with his intense scrubbing and his vice-like grip on each platter and bowl, he had moved onto drying them with a worn out, blue rag, and finally wiped the remaining wetness on the last of the dishes.
He grinned down at the dried dishes, all in-tact and was about to call for Hajime so he could show him, yes, he most certainly did not break anything this time, before stopping himself.
Maybe it would be nicer, and better yet, even more impressive if he put the dishes back where they belong. He felt like a kid again, wanting nothing more than to see Hajime’s face light up with approval and happiness, and began to stack the plates and bowls on top of one another.
Nagito pondered on whether he should take them one at a time but...oh, he was doing so well wasn’t he? He was...sure nothing would happen.
So as he straightened his back and lifted the plates up from the bottom, carefully balancing the bowls that were lying on top of the plates as well, he started to walk to the other side of the kitchen where the cabinets were.
Thump, thump, thump.
He heard the sound of his own heart beat against his chest in fear. Nagito swallowed, trying to force his arms to stop shaking. The anxiety was starting to kick back in, wasn’t it…
He stopped walking and steadied himself, shutting his eyes and letting his body rest so it would stop trembling so much.
Nagito inhaled, and exhaled, breath cracking, but arms starting to lose its tremor. Good. This was good. He opened his eyes once again. Though his arms were starting to ache from the weight of the stacked dishes, he had to go carefully.
And of course, as soon as the thought entered his mind and he decided to take the first step, his foot caught on an indenture in the kitchen tiles.
Nagito gasped sharply, foot stumbling and arms giving way. It all happened in a flash - one moment the dishes were carefully placed under his hands, the next they were all sliding off one another and shattering into pieces on the floor.
The sound was ear-piercing.
His body trembled, as he stared down at the broken pieces, one lone plate still gripped tightly with both hands. A surge of panic rippled through his body, realizing what he had just done. Again.
No, no, no...please…why?
“Nagito? Nagito what - “ He didn’t want to look at Hajime’s face when heard him abruptly stop in place at the entrance of the kitchen. Nagito could feel Hajime’s eyes immediately latch onto the broken mess he’d made on the floor. Both of their gazes lingered, tense silence following until…
“Are you fucking kidding me? Again?”
The harsh words prompted Nagito to snap his head up, looking at Hajime with pleading eyes. Hoping he’d understand, but knowing that he didn’t deserve it. “H-Hajime, I didn’t, I’m so-”
“Stop it. Just stop it . Give that to me.” Hajime approached Nagito and yanked the only remaining plate that was still in one piece from his hands, movements jerky. Nagito’s hands remained where they were, as if he were still holding it, until he slapped them down by his sides, watching Hajime put the plate on the counter.
Hajime turned around to storm off into the hallways, presumably to get a broom and dustpan. As he brushed past Nagito with brimming anger, Nagito only now noticed just how deep the dark circles under his eyes were.
He bit his lip guiltily and began to move to follow Hajime, until Hajime whipped back around and pointed at Nagito. “No. Stay there. God, just, sit or something, please Komaeda. ”
He felt a painful jab at his heart at the use of his family name, something he knew Hajime only called him when he was upset or being distant.
Nagito looked down with shiny eyes, and nodded silently, sitting himself down on a stool in the kitchen. He twiddled with his thumbs and thought about how Hajime would have to buy more now, biting the inside of his cheek.
What’s wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just do the one thing that Hajime asked him to?
Some pathetic excuse of a boyfriend he was.
But even so...he had to make it up...before Hajime decides to throw him out along with the broken dishes. Nagito knew he didn’t deserve the privilege of receiving Hajime’s forgiveness, but he had to try to let Hajime know he still cared, right?
Once Hajime returned, with the broom and dustpan in hand, Nagito hopped off the stool and approached Hajime with a new profound hope. “Let me help you.”
But when his hands reached for the broom, Hajime jerked it away fast. “No. Forget it. Didn’t I tell you to sit?”
“Y-you did but I - let me at least help you, Hajime. I’m sorry.” He said desperately, still trying to take the broom from Hajime’s hands but once again, failing. Despite Nagito’s advantage in size, Hajime was quick. Quicker than he was before.
“I said NO , Komaeda!” He snapped, and Nagito pulled back, startled.
Hajime sighed, and crouched down to begin sweeping the pieces into the dustpan, mumbling something under his breath.
“Hajime…” Nagito started, but he had no idea what to say other than to apologize. Even then, he didn't even deserve to speak. Not right now.
“You try and do one thing for me. One thing, and you can’t even…” He trailed off, huffing in frustration. “I told you I’d be washing from now on, but you kept on insisting, and insisting. Why? ”
“B-because!” He stammered helplessly. “I wanted to do something for you...I just wanted you to have a break...but I messed that up too, like the worthless piece of trash I am.”
Nagito took a hesitant step forward, looking down at his boyfriend sweeping the pieces. “Hajime, I’m so sorry.”
Hajime said nothing, expression still twisted in anger and he knew that he wasn’t accepting his apology. It only made sense…
He had been trying so hard to be patient with Nagito, to smile and simply whisper, “it’s okay, I got it,” when Nagito had started breaking more and more dishes. He had to handle Nagito’s horrible luck cycle and accidents while he juggled all of his other work that the Future Foundation swarmed him in, and on top of that help run the island with the others.
Now this happens, and it probably just added onto his long list of errands...Nagito’s really gone and done it now, hasn’t he?
As Nagito was about to open his mouth to spout more apologies, Hajime spoke first.
“You know, Komaeda,” He said, head turned away from Nagito’s eyes. “This week has been absolute shit for me and it feels like I can’t catch a fucking break. It’s just one thing after another, another thing after that one and I - I’m so exhausted, Komaeda.”
Hajime’s hands shook as he swept the remaining pieces into the dustpan, making Nagito all the more guilty. “I didn’t need you to add onto my list of what seems like never ending fucking problems . It feels like -“ Hajime stood up, face still hidden as he looked the opposite way to the trash bin.
“You just can’t do anything right for once, can you?”
That did it.
The words pierced hard into his heart, and it felt as if his skin was being ripped open. He turned away from Hajime sharply, arms wrapping themselves around his body, and inhaled deeply.
He had heard those words spoken to him before. With the same distaste, the same hatred, the same exasperation. Only it had come from his parents, strangers, or even his classmates. Especially his classmates, actually. The pain of the words had subsided, since he was used to hearing them so often.
But he’d never hear anything like this from Hajime. Hajime had been the first person to be patient with him, that tried to understand his luck cycle and accommodate him for god knows what reason. With gentle smiles and fevered kisses, he’d reassure Nagito that, no, he was not useless and he was not worthless and he was indeed beautiful, and perfect, and everything else good in the world.
Which was why the words coming from Hajime stung so horribly . As if someone had just reopened his thousands of scars and cuts from over the years with no mercy.
He should have expected something like this would happen soon enough. It’s not possible for a living human being to have the capacity to stand Nagito for this long...not even Hajime. And how could he blame him?
Hajime was definitely...definitely going to leave him, if he wasn’t before.
The thought caused Nagito to release a labored gasp of air, clamping his hand over his mouth in a frantic motion once the sound had escaped into the silent kitchen, save for the sounds of the broken dishes being disposed of in their trash can. He squeezed his eyes shut to pretend that Hajime hadn’t heard it. He squeezed it shut to ignore the sting forming in the corners of his eyes.
Hajime drew his eyebrows together, and turned around to look at where Nagito had moved. The white-haired boy had his back to him, and Hajime could just barely notice his frail, skinny frame trembling. Supporting himself with only one arm wrapped around his body. Small whimpers escaping him.
Previous frustration that had been built inside his very core just seconds before was slowly replaced by rising concern. The flames that had been lit anew in his mind burnt out slowly with every small shudder that rippled through Nagito’s body.
Oh...fuck.
“Nagito?” Hajime said, voice trying to steady itself so it wasn’t yelling anymore.
Nagito didn’t reply, instead stepping farther away from Hajime in a weak attempt to hide himself. His heart picked up slightly at the use of his first name, but it was because Hajime was trying to be serious before he broke up with him, wasn’t it?
He knew it was coming but he wanted to prolong the inevitable for as long as he could. Keep Hajime at bay for as long as he could.
He was selfish, and disgusting for even trying to.
“Nagito.” Now Hajime was by his ear, and he couldn’t step farther away. His feet glued themselves to the floor, and he could only stare down at the kitchen tiles, vision blurring violently.
“Hey, Nagi…”
“I’m sorry.” Nagito whispered, before he let out a traitorous, broken sob. “I’m s-so sorry, Ha-Hajime…” And the tears finally streamed down his face.
“ No, no, no, baby, hush…” A flip seemed to have been switched inside Hajime’s mind and he moved immediately, turning the taller boy around by his shoulders - only to be met with Nagito covering his face with both hands, sobbing harshly.
“Come here.” Hajime pulled Nagito into his arms, nestling him into his chest and wrapping his arms firmly around the other boy’s shaking frame. Nagito cried harder at this, burying his head into Hajime’s shoulder.
“P-please don’t be m-mad at me, Hajime, I’m so s-sorry…” His voice was muffled by the fabric of Hajime’s shirt, wet and sad. His heart ached at the sounds of his boyfriend crumbling in his arms.
“No, baby, it’s okay. I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Hajime stroked his unruly hair tenderly, holding Nagito’s body tighter to assure him that he wasn’t going anywhere.
“N-no! Hajime has nothing to apologize for...really, it’s all t-true, everything you said...”
“It’s not. I’m sorry.” Hajime whispered against his hair, turning to place a light kiss on the side of his head.
Nagito whimpered, clutching into Hajime as if he were a lifeline. “ But it is. H-hajime, I couldn’t even do one simple task for you a-and now you h-have to buy more, and come home t-tired again all b-because of me. I - !”
“Stop.” Hajime said, but this time the words weren’t laced with cold venom, they were spoken with only kindness. Hajime had always been so kind.
“It’s okay, Nagito. It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. See?” He pulled back so Nagito could see his face, which was smiling gently back at his boyfriend. Nagito’s eyes were swollen and his lips puffy, hair matted from pressing into Hajime.
He dove back into Hajime’s embrace.
Hajime continued stroking his hair softly. “I’m sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean any of what I said about you back there, I promise.”
Nagito’s body shook harder, and in response, Hajime held on tighter. “You’re the love of my life, Ko. I’d never trade you for anything, you know that, right? Anything at all.”
“I - I love you. You’re s-so perfect.” Was all he could let out, before he broke into another string of sobs. Hajime only hummed quietly, arms pulling back from Nagito’s hair and instead wrapping themselves around his waist.
“I love you too, Ko.”
Nagito could hardly believe Hajime was the one comforting him right now, when it really should’ve been the other way around. He felt utterly embarrassed for breaking into tears so fast, but at the same time, a warmth enveloped his heart knowing that Hajime wasn’t going to leave him. At least, he didn’t say he was going to. But Nagito would take that.
He sighed softly, and the tears dried on his cheeks after a few long minutes of tender stroking and hushed reassurances alongside apologies. The shaking began to cease, and in response Hajime finally pulled away, Nagito reluctantly slipping out of his embrace. He decided to turn his gaze to his boyfriend, who’s eyes were as stark as ever but still understanding. Nagito opted to apologize, opening his mouth but then shutting it when he realized that Hajime has probably heard enough.
But then, Hajime’s thumbs brushed over his tear-stained cheek, and he melted into the touch. He smiled and said, “Next time, we wash dishes together, okay?”
Nagito made a small noise of affirment, smiling at the thought of doing the dishes with his boyfriend. He stared down at Hajime’s lips longingly, which, despite everything still looked plump and soft instead of chapped, like he was sure his own were before he started crying. Hajime seemed to have noticed, because he lightly traced his hands to the back of Nagito’s head, and pulled him in for a kiss.
It was sweet, and chaste, with no other meaning behind it other than reassurance, affection, and so much love, it was almost sickening. Nagito melted into the kiss, until Hajime pulled away and he almost had to suppress a whine from the sudden missing lips on his own.
His wet eyelashes fluttered as he looked at Hajime, who’s own gaze was turned upwards. He was fluffing Nagito’s matted hair mutely. “I really, really, don’t deserve you, Hajime.”
Hajime chuckled, and then kissed the tip of his nose. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“I’m nothing special.
“But you are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. And I love you.”
“Mmm…” Hajime hummed, no longer fueled with the same energy that he normally had when they bantered similarly to this. Instead, he squished Nagito’s cheeks and pursed his lips, as if waiting for a kiss.
Nagito didn’t wait a second more, connecting their lips instantly and relishing the sigh that he elicited from the shorter boy. He wrapped his arms around Hajime’s firm waist and the kiss was again, sweet, yet passionate at the same time. Nagito prodded at Hajime’s lips to encourage entrance into his mouth, but Hajime pulled away before they could get too far. However this time, he whined and Hajime only shushed him, smirking but still red-faced.
“Not yet, okay? Let’s save it for later.” He whispered into Nagito’s ear, hugging his frame once again and burying his own face into Nagito’s neck.
Nagito’s voice had a lilt in it as he said, “Later? So...make-up se-”
“Shh!” Hajime interrupted, face burning. He always got so flustered when Nagito brought these kinds of subjects up out of the blue, and Nagito couldn’t help but giggle into his hair.
So cute.
“U-um...yeah...sure. Yeah.”
Nagito blushed, and backed up a little, prompting Hajime to lift his head from Nagito’s neck and meet his gaze. “Does....this means you forgive me? I truly am sorry for breaking your dishes again, Hajime. Really, I don’t know how I can -”
“Yeah, it’s okay. I promise, sweetheart.” He placed his hands on the arms still encircling his waist. “We just have to wash them together next time, like I said.”
“Okay.” Nagito nodded fondly, and then bit his lip gently, the desire to take his mind off the horrible accident overwhelming. “Ah...trash like me shouldn’t be allowed to ask but, can we watch a movie, Hajime? I miss watching movies with you.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, bubs. Anything you want.” Hajime said, slipping out of Nagito’s hold on his waist to link their hands together. Mechanical one in scarred tan one, Hajime led Nagito out of the kitchen to the living room.
Their hands still fit perfectly together, even throughout everything. Just like broken dishes glued back together.