Archive of Our Own ^beta

I / WINDOWS

Let there be light. That’s how the world was created. Words that sparked illumination. Light that consumed the darkness. Light’s a necessity. To see where your steps are taking you. To exist.

Windows are a good source of light.

“Large windows would be nice,” Kojiro said over coffee. The Italian summer sun sat comfortably upon his shoulders. Kissed the nape of his neck. Joe’s legs crossed at the knee, and a calloused hand flipped through the home decor catalogue as his other hand brought his coffee to his lips. “To let in a lot of light.” He shot a cautious glance towards Kaoru, “For the plants.”

“The plants,” Kaoru drawled. Not a hint of excitement lingered in his tone. Monotone in delivery, he surgically cut through his french toast with his knife. Pinning the piece of bread with his fork. Until a large, triangle chunk was on the ends that he bit into and chewed upon. “How many plants?”

“A jungle’s worth.”

“No,” Kaoru pointed his knife towards Kojiro. Who hid behind his mug, raising a green eyebrow in return. His smirk hidden neatly behind the crescent ring of his mug. Kaoru scowled. “My allergies won’t know peace.”

“They have medication for that. Claritin. Zyrtec. Allegra. Benadryl,” Kojiro eyed a beautiful arched window. Lined with dark, nearly black wood. He imagined it perfectly in a tucked away corner. Perhaps for a kitchen. Where Kojiro could stand in the presence of the sun, to receive its blessings of warmth and delight and daylight. He hummed, eyes warming over like chocolate sitting out on a hot day.

Kaoru’s scowl deepened, “You’re imagining the windows.” When Kojiro didn’t respond right away, Kaoru dragged his knife in a dramatic slice through his french toast. Followed by him loudly chomping and chewing his meal. He was adorable this way. Playing fake annoyed by Kojiro’s antics.

“They’d be beautiful. I love mahogany,” Kojiro batted his eyes. Knowing fully well that Kaoru was not impervious to his signature, Kaoru-destroying move. He watched Kaoru’s jaw drop. His mouth hung open in surprise. Then his eyebrows pushed together so tightly, Kojiro swore they’d be knitted together forever.

“Don’t do that. Don’t butter me up. We don’t need a jungle’s worth of plants.”

“Then a farm’s worth.”

“I need you to adopt a new unit of measurement.”

Kojiro laughed right from his belly. The sort of laugh that had his sides twinging and tweaking. God, being with Kaoru was so effortless. Why had they waited so long to be one, instead of two? It was illuminating, really. To realize in this moment about six months into their relationship, eating breakfast on a veranda in Milan, that openly loving Kaoru and being openly loved by him in return was like sitting by a window on a sunny day. Comforting. Sun seeping under skin, settling into bones, with pure gold in his heart.

Kojiro took another sip of his drink. He pushed the magazine towards Kaoru. Who stared at it for several seconds before returning his gaze to Kojiro. “You’d like them in the kitchen.”

Kojiro’s lips quivered at the end, a rueful smile forming. “I would.”

“The bedroom?”

“I’m flexible. Though I do like waking up to natural sunlight. I’m not sure you’d survive with how horrific your sleeping habits are.”

“I sleep,” Kaoru huffed, skimming through the book. Golden eyes absorbing all the different windows. Arched and squared. Circular or rectangular. Narrow or wide. Full sized or half. So many windows. Windows for kitchens and bedrooms and bathrooms and more. Windows to make light always, always, always shine through. It’s funny.

Kojiro never cared for windows. He liked them. They were nice, he figured. Always there. Present but never really an important thought to his day. Windows were nice. He never really loved them. Not until he woke up the night after they finally allowed their feelings to spill over like molten gold. And he saw Kaoru bathed in morning’s dewy glow, peaceful, asleep. Pink hair wild and splayed all over the pillow. A sharp contrast to its usually put together ponytail. Mouth gently parted as he slept, bundled under blankets.

Kojiro remembered the way his heart squeezed horrifically taut in his chest. How his face erupted into wildfire. How the sun on his skin scorched, but the desire to make Kaoru his forever and always—for eternity, for beyond that—for as many rotations as the sun had around the moon and the earth, he wanted Kaoru to never slip from his fingers like sunlight. He wanted Kaoru in the palm of his hands. He wanted Kaoru.

“Barely,” Kojiro snorted. “I wake up sometimes and it’ll be 2 o’clock and you’re still up doing God knows what.”

Kaoru rolled his eyes, “Carla makes sure I get adequate sleep. Some of us are so efficient we don’t need 8 full hours to function.”

The memory of that night warmed Kojiro down to his toes. To the point that Kaoru’s grouchiness (always endearing, never a bother) did nothing to diminish the rosy colored softness in Kojiro’s eyes. He placed his mug down onto the coaster, and walked two fingers across the table. Step. Step. Step. Until his pointer finger brushed against Kaoru’s pointer finger. Poking until Kaoru’s fingers interlaced with his. Their hands connected, resting on top of a page displaying a large window framed with plants and ivy vines.

“Large windows,” Kojiro started, rubbing his thumb along a small patch of skin on Kaoru’s ring finger. “I’d like large windows. And we can space them out. So they’re not everywhere. But they’re in the rooms that matter. The rooms where sunlight is needed the most.”

Kaoru sighed. Golden eyes flickered down to gaze at their interconnected fingers. Kojiro could see the tension melt from Kaoru subtly. In the way the corners of his mouth lost their frown lines. In the way vanilla softness sweetened his gaze to honey, rather than the indignant gold he was met with earlier. Kaoru was incredibly soft-hearted, under barbed wires and electrical fences. Though, Kojiro liked to think he was special. And that Kaoru’s spoiling was only, and always, reserved for him.

“Large windows…” Kaoru muttered. “Alright. But we buy curtains for the bedroom. Dark ones. That can filter out the sunlight, because I refuse to wake up any earlier than 8 am on a good day” Kaoru flickered his gaze back to Kojiro.

Kojiro’s mouth split into a wickedly tender grin. He brought Kaoru’s hand to his lips. Rubbed his ring finger again, and kissed the knuckles. “Love you,” another kiss. “Thank you.”

Kaoru’s blush was worth it. Red roses blooming upon the patches of his cheeks. Kojiro liked to think of these moments as framed by a little window only he could peek into. No one else got to see this side of Kaoru. Where there were no pretenses, no masks, no fabrication. Only them, and the sun, and their breakfast crumbs, and their newly picked out windows.

It’s a sunny sort of feeling—a real sunburst flickering through dusty window panes.

II / DOORS

Every house needed a door. How else do you get in? How else do you enter? Doors are welcoming. Doors are secretive. Anything can lay behind a door. A mystery to be solved. A new world to step into.

Doors are good for keeping things locked inside, until you need them to be opened.

Kaoru frowned. A door was before him. Though, for how long. Who could really tell. He may just take the drill in his hand and rip off the hinges screw by screw. The door was a soft green, the color of sea foam. Or mint the worker at the paint store had told him and Kojiro the day they went picking up buckets and buckets of paint for renovation purposes.

Now, the door looked hideous. Horrific. A barrier, rather than an invitation. Kaoru reached out for the door knob, then stopped. Mere inches from grasping the cool metal in the palm of his hand.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, fingers twitching. He never hesitated before. Or, no. That was a lie. Kaoru had not hesitated to bridge the gap between him and Kojiro when Kojiro took his space once they started dating. It was in their infancy (re: their friendship during tumultuous teenage years) that Kaoru hesitated. Kaoru noticed the distance, panicked, then ran in the opposite direction. Avoidance was his specialty. Confrontation? On rare occasions, and for special circumstances.

The door between him and Kojiro seemed massive. Imposing.

Part of him wanted to leave this awkward feeling in the pit of his stomach until tomorrow. Wanted to push it underneath his work. Push it underneath a canvas and black ink and a fine paintbrush. Wanted to push it underneath several glasses of wine.

Arguments, surprisingly, were new for them. Kaoru and Kojiro bickered but they rarely ever fought. Not a real fight. Not one where Kaoru felt the poison on his tongue taint the honey in his mouth, as he bared his fangs in response. Not one where Kojiro wore a mask, hid his usual jovial smile and animated features, where his eyes settled to stone and his walls came up—brick by brick.

Kojiro never hid himself away, either. Not really. Not like that. Never from Kaoru. And Kaoru hated that, and blamed himself, for allowing old wounds fester so deeply they came out in moments where they should have been fine. Should have been okay.

Kaoru turned on his heel.

Then he turned back around. He squared his shoulders.

“You’re not a coward, Kaoru. Go.” He hissed at himself. Then he grabbed the door handle and stepped inside.

Kojiro’s back was to Kaoru when Kaoru entered the kitchen. Kaoru scanned the room. There were several baking trays set out onto the counters. Baking sheets were strewn around, on top, and onto anything it could be used for. He inhaled, and immediately got a whiff of chocolate. Of strawberries. Of… cinnamon? Kaoru frowned. A horrible ache settled itself within the gaps of his heart strings.

A treacherous thought curled and slithered around and around in his head. That perhaps Kojiro hadn’t heard him come in. Maybe he could turn around. See what tomorrow would bring. Try again.

But then, there’s another voice. It told him: Stay. You already opened the door. You’re already here.

How many times had Kaoru closed himself in behind doors, behind walls, and Kojiro had always—no matter the ferocity of Kaoru’s anger, after time had pulled them apart without speaking but Kaoru’s stubbornness was his downfall—found him.

“I still love you.”

Kaoru’s head snapped up. Kojiro hadn’t turned around. It looked like he was still working on something. By the way his arms and shoulders moved. How could someone so strong be so delicate when creating desserts or delicious meals? Or… working with him, Kaoru?

Something about hearing that. Such a simple phrase. Had he worried that Kojiro was going to love him less? Because Kaoru was a messy person. Prone to outbursts of anger. Who could go too far. Who found it easier to pretend and lie, and push and push. Rather than to lay bare his insecurities, discuss his feelings, work towards a calm rather than brew up a storm. Perhaps, he had wondered. Fretted. Distressed. Over the idea, a possibility—less than one percent, Carla had told him when he asked for the numbers—of Kojiro falling out, and no longer in, love with Kaoru.

Kaoru folded his arms across his chest. His nails dug into the meat of his arm. “I wasn’t-” He stopped himself. Closed his mouth. Wired shut his jaw. Then opened it again, softer. Rinsing away poison, speaking only of truths and no longer hiding behind silver tongues or sharpened words. “Thank you. For saying that. I,” he took a step forward, “also. Still love you.”

“I’m glad you know.” Kojiro said. “I’m still pissed, though.”

Kaoru snorted, “I’m not surprised.” A knock later. “I see you’ve been busy here. Hard at work.”

“Mhm.”

“Cupcakes?”

“No.”

“A cake then. Three or two tiers?”

“Four.”

Fuck. “Four…” Kaoru’s nails dug a little deeper. “That’s a lot of cake.”

Kojiro sighed. Kaoru saw the deflation in Kojiro’s shoulders. And if he hadn’t said earlier, hadn’t reassured that love still existed between them despite the nastiness of their fight, Kaoru would have ran. There and then. But he wouldn’t now. Not when they promised they’d do this, life and love, together. And no longer apart. That they’d step through this new door of agape side by side. So he couldn’t run.

“Are we actually going to talk? Because I don’t have any more fight left in me.”

“First of all,” Kaoru went on the defense, then immediately relaxed. No. No, open. Be open. “I’m not,” he said quietly instead. Another step forward. The lines of their wooden floor separated Kojiro and Kaoru in what seemed like thousands of meters rather than a few inches. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

The silence stretched between them. Wrapped itself around Kaoru’s neck like a vice. He worked his jaw. Tapped his fingers on his arms. Waited and waited. Kojiro didn’t say anything. The thing to know about Kojiro was this: Kojiro is every bit as loud as he is quiet. He is every bit of volume taking as he is volume decreasing. He is every bit as imposing when he is sunny and bright as he is when he’s clouded and dark. Yet, even Kaoru could see the evidence of his anger around the kitchen. In the way, Kojiro's shoulders remained taut.

God, he hated seeing Kojiro’s back like this.

He hated Kojiro not looking at him.

“Look at me,” came out first. He’d feel shame for being so vulnerable later (but why? Why feel any ounce of shame when Kojiro loved you for all your parts?). “I don’t like it when you’re not… facing me.”

Kojiro turned around slowly. Kaoru exhaled a breath of relief he wasn’t aware he was holding onto. Kojiro faced him now. His back against the counter. His palms and a bit of his forearm were covered with powder. His blue apron sat low on his hips. Streaked with bits of chocolate and cream. Kojiro always turned to baking when he had a lot on his mind. Could churn out a whole bakery’s worth of desserts. Kaoru hated to know he was the cause of the stress, or a part of it. Though his brain ruthlessly supplied and told him over and over that this fracture was his fault.

“I’m listening, Kaoru.”

“Today. Earlier. I was out of line, and I’m sorry. I, I don’t know why I—No. I do.” He felt small and liberated all at the same time as he confessed. “I was afraid. I’ve never been in a relationship before. I’ve never had just one person. And I,” memories of their argument painted across his mind. Making him internally recoil. He’d said some vile things about Kojiro. All unwarranted. All unnecessary. All because a little voice in the back of Kaoru’s head said why would he ever want you for the long term? When better exists? When you are only good on paper and nothing more. “I was vicious. I was cruel. You don’t deserve that. My insecurities are my own and I’m working on that. I am. I will. But I was,” he voice cracked.

And then, Kojiro’s arms wrapped around Kaoru. Kaoru fell immediately. Grasping onto the offered warmth of Kojiro’s embrace. Stepping through the open door Kojiro made of acceptance, and forgiveness, and presence.

“Some days I feel as if I don’t deserve this. Some days I feel like I’m going to mess up again. Get scared. And that fear is going to make me push you away. For good. I’d hate that,” Kaoru’s fingers dug into the fabric of Kojiro’s shirt. His voice kept breaking. Crumbling apart at the very seams.

Kojiro stroked his palm through Kaoru’s hair, chuckling softly. “I’ve been by your side all this time. If there was ever a moment I wanted to leave, I would have.” Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to keep his composure. “I know how you are. I love you because of who you are. Mess and all. But,” Kojiro didn’t stop his hand stroking Kaoru’s hair, even if Kaoru tensed in anticipation of what Kojiro would say next. “I think we need to work on our communication skills. A bit. So we don’t end up there again. Because I pushed your buttons too out of anger, and that’s not fair to you either.”

God, when did they become so mature? When had they learned how to operate around each other in this dimension?

Kaoru pulled Kojiro down for a kiss. Kojiro opened his mouth for Kaoru to take. For Kaoru to enjoy. With the slide of their tongues and the meshing of their mouths. Kaoru sighed as they broke apart. His nose was bumping against Kojiro’s.

“You are very good to me,” Kaoru whispered.

“You’re very good to me, too.” Kojiro whispered back.

Open door policies are the best policies.

III / WALLS

“Alright,” Kojiro popped open the paint can and grinned down at the pool of light blue paint. “That’s the last can. The rollers ready?”

“Just finished the last one,” Kaoru sat on the floor with two paint rollers in hand. Kojiro smiled, and Kaoru smiled back in return. They sat in their living room. Or, well, their soon to be a living room. It was rather bare except for the carpeted flooring they were going to take out and replace with wood flooring. Their walls were lined with blue tape at the top and bottom with help from Langa and Reki who had come by earlier in the week to assist with painting prep.

“Awesome,” Kojiro got up from the floor and headed for Kaoru so he could grab a roller. He smiled down at Kaoru, “Have I ever told you I like seeing your eyes? When they’re not hidden by those fake glasses of yours.”

“Once a day. Every seven hours,” Kaoru replied as if the very idea of Kojiro taking time of the day to comment on his eyes gave him hives. It didn’t. But Kaoru’s tone was enough to make Kojiro bark out a laugh. He caught Kaoru’s gaze running down his body. To the open expanse of his skin peaking through the few buttons of his jumper he left undone. Kojiro grinned lopsidedly, “What’s up?”

Kaoru’s gaze shot right back up to Kojiro’s eyes. He squinted. “Why do we have to wear matching jumpers?”

Kojiro struck a pose, flexing his arms and biceps. He was wearing a green jumper while Kaoru wore a near identical jumper in pink. Kojiro had found them online one day and had to buy them. They were perfect for painting! Lightweight too. And, secretly, he’d always wanted matching couples clothing to wear with his significant other. Call it a bucket list item. One he was eager to check off when the opportunity arose. Kaoru was stubborn at first. He didn’t understand the allure or the pleasure of wearing matching outfits with your boyfriend.

“We look good,” Kojiro reached for his phone in the breast pocket. He unlocked the device and held up the phone. “I’m gonna take pictures and videos for my Insta. And some to send to the group chat,” he grinned behind his phone. His smile grew larger at the look Kaoru was giving him. His lips pursed in barely hidden skepticism. “For memories.”

“You’re obsessed with social media,” Kaoru went for the roller and the paint bucket. He walked it over to one of the walls and bent down to dip the roller into the paint. Just enough so it wouldn’t be soaked and dripping all over. Though they were diligent in putting newspaper and other sheets on the floor so any spilled paint wouldn’t fall on the carpet. Even if they were removing it, didn’t mean they had to stain it all up.

“It’s good for branding,” Kojiro started recording a video of Kaoru painting. “Sia just reached 500k followers yesterday! And my personal page has about… 800k?”

Kaoru kept painting, pulling the roller down and pushing it up as he worked. Kojiro was impressed. Kaoru’s eyes for perfection, particularity, and meticulousness translate from calligraphy canvas to painting walls. “You’ve always been rather popular. So I’m not surprised.”

“Have I?” Kojiro asked, walking around so he could get a better angle of Kaoru painting.

Kaoru sticked the roller out towards Kojiro, “You have been. Anyways, aren’t you going to paint too?”

“I will once I get a few more seconds in!” He turned the camera face forward so he was on the screen being recorded. “Guys, Kaoru and I are doing our own paint job! He’s doing pretty great. Hire him not only for your calligraphy needs, but home decorating too!”

He flipped the camera back to Kaoru who was staring back at Kojiro unimpressed.

“You can smile, ya know.” Kojiro said.

Kaoru flashed the camera a brilliant smile, “Hello fans of Kojiro. Do you want to hear an embarrassing story about your favorite chef? I have several. For starters, when he was in kindergarten Nanjo Kojiro was the record holder for most times wetting the be-”

“Alright, live over! I’ll be back later! Ciao!” Kojiro shut the stream as Kaoru’s laughter, bubbly and full, filled the open space between them. Bouncing off the walls. Kojiro’s face burned. He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re a menace.”

Kaoru laughed even louder.

After the embarrassment settled, Kojiro picked up his own roller and went to work. They painted for about two hours, then they took a break. Kojiro made them a snack with lemonade to hydrate. The two sat on the floor, facing each other. When Kojiro noticed Kaoru had paint on his cheek.

“How’d this happen,” Kojiro’s voice was golden hour warmed over dewy hills, as he reached out to rub his thumb along the paint streak across Kaoru’s cheek. He noticed how Kaoru leaned into the touch. His eyes dropped to the pad of Kojiro’s thumb.

“Dunno. I must have gotten some on my hand, then wiped my face by mistake. Happens a lot when I work, too.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I get too engrossed and I don’t realize I’ve gotten it on my hands or my face until later.”

Kojiro chuckled, “I bet that’s a surprise when you get the chance to look at yourself.”

Kaoru grinned, “It’s never not annoying.”

Having conversations when you’re in a romantic relationship, and a platonic relationship, feel different and the same all at once. On one hand, Kojiro can feel how the walls surrounding their dynamic are different. They weren’t so rigid and terrifying anymore. They felt more comforting, a gentle circumference that housed the newness they were growing together.

When Kojiro had asked if Kaoru wanted to live together, he was nervous. Down to the bone. He was never a vulnerable person. Not really. He was open. But the walls were mazes, and you had to stick it out and know your way through the chaos to find his center. Kojiro was open. He was. You could come to him for anything. And maybe that’s why Kaoru said he was popular. Because Kojiro had a natural gravitation. People flocked to him as if he were the sun—and even that sort of comparison makes Kojiro want to cringe because it sounded a little too self-indulgent.

Kaoru, though, never went through his maze. He smashed through his walls like a wrecking ball and he had no remorse for the debris or the shattered pieces. Which was hilarious considering Kaoru was just as prickly and prone to not being vulnerable as Kojiro was. They had their reasons. For keeping and creating distances. For having people come close, and only so close, but never too close. But such boundaries never existed between them.

They were working on navigation, though. There were some moments where it felt like, perhaps, their walls were iron gates. Giant fences. Lined with barbed wire and electrical currents. Sometimes Kojiro felt like he couldn’t touch Kaoru at all. And sometimes, he knew, he erected barriers around himself because he wasn’t quite sure how to talk about himself yet. In a lot of ways. In deeper ways than most people ever get.

Walls are good for protection. But sometimes, they have to come down.

Kojiro remembered one night when Kaoru and him were sitting alone in Sia. When Kojiro had finished a bottle of whiskey by himself. And Kaoru had sat with him, sober. Quiet. A daunting and comforting presence.

“Why are you here?”

“Because you’re drinking yourself into liver failure. Why else would I be here?”

“Go home.”

“No.”

“Kaoru.”

“You’ve been on edge all week!” Kaoru snapped back. He gripped his hands so hard, his fists were pulsing with tiny veins. “All week! The kids have noticed. Shadow and Oka won’t stop bugging me about it! Kiriko nearly opened a police investigation against you just to figure out what the fuck has you nearly snapping on people and being so short and being so… so….” Kaoru was at a loss for words, until, “unlike yourself.”

Unlike himself. Kojiro had to laugh. Hollowed and scraped out at the bottom. “Unlike myself,” he stared at the amber liquid in his tumbler glass. He brought the glass to his lips, felt the coolness on his bottom lip, only for Kaoru’s hand to grab his wrist. Stopping him. Kojiro’s eyes slid over, glazed and irked.

Kaoru didn’t waver.

“This is me,” Kojiro’s voice was gravel, rocky and reminiscent of a graveyard.

Kaoru searched his face for what seemed like minutes, “I’m aware.”

Kojiro felt a punch in his gut, “No. You’re not. You’re not. And neither is anyone else. Because I’m good ol’ Joe! Always has everything together! Always the one people come to when they have a problem! Always the one trying to keep things together, even when his life's falling apart! But hey, it’s just Joe!” Kojiro lowered the glass. He gripped Kaoru’s hand and pried it off his wrist. “That’s just what I do!”

Kaoru frowned, deeply, and Kojiro hated having said so much and he blamed the whiskey for making his lips looser than normal. “No one can know you’re struggling if you don’t talk about it.”

“When?” Kojiro barked back. “When? With what time? When I have a restaurant to run and S to help rebuild and—”

“Aren’t we best friends?” Kaoru asked sharply. Suddenly, he was in Kojiro’s space. Close enough their noses brushed. Kaoru gripped Kojiro by the collar of his white shirt and tugged hard, until their foreheads collided. “As your best friend, I’m going to be blunt. This?” He nodded towards the empty bottle of whiskey, “Is pathetic. If you have a problem, you say it. You reach out. You rely on those around you. What the fuck, Kojiro? Who said you had to suffer in silence when I’m right here!”

“Because it’s not your problem! Why would you care!”

“To hell with it’s not my problem! That’s bullshit!” Kaoru growled. “You are single handedly one of the most important people in my life, Kojiro. You have carried me through my messes and you have never, in our 25 years of friendship, ever let me do the same. That ends tonight.”

Kaoru ripped his hand from Kojiro’s collar. He grabbed the tumbler on the counter and downed the remaining contents of whiskey before slamming it back down. Kojiro felt like he got suckerpucnehd and then hit with a right hook. Or maybe that was the bottle of whiskey setting in. His head was swimming. Kaoru was never open. He remembered thinking this was one of the rare moments he’s seen Kaoru have an outburst like that. He remembered thinking about the fights they had when they were younger and they were still figuring each other out. When their arguments had a bitter tang to the ends of them.

Hearing Kaoru be so open, and raw, did something to Kojiro. Created a heat within the bottom of his belly that burned deeper than any whiskey could do. Kaoru was panting. His face was red. And Kojiro had a choice. He could stand behind his walls. He could keep them secure. He could let himself drown into another bottle and figure out life by himself, as he always had. Or, he could rely on Kaoru. The way he expected Kaoru to rely on him when things fell apart. To receive as much as he gave.

God, this was going to suck.

“My brother called,” Kojiro’s voice was thick, like cotton. He dropped his eyes to the top of his knuckles. “He said ma’s not doing well. She’s,” his voice faltered. “In the hospital and… they’re not sure if.” His voice watered.

“Okay. Then I’ll buy us train tickets and we’ll head to your place tomorrow.”

Kojiro whipped his head up, eyes as wide as the clock on his wall. “What? No. Kaoru. You can’t. You have a book signing tomorrow.”

“I can reschedule that.”

“It’s so last minute. You don’t have—”

“Carla.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Reschedule my book signing for next week. Send a refund to all those who purchased their tickets saying that they will be valid for the rescheduled signing. Also include a complimentary never before seen piece of mine as an apology for the last minute notice.”

“Certainly. I will ding you when it’s complete.”

“Thank you, Carla.” Kaoru’s bracelet glowed purple, then dimmed to alert that Carla was gone and working out his request. Kojiro’s mouth was open. He blinked several times. His brain took a while to catch up to what just happened. “Kojiro, this may be a surprise to you. A shocker and a half. But you're important to me,” He muttered, somehow now having the audacity to feel embarrassed by the declaration. Kaoru cut his gaze to look at one of the plants in Kojiro’s restaurant, “You... I know you would have done the same for me... and then some.” He said, bringing his softened gazed back to Kojiro.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then Kaoru slowly reached his hand out to rest on top of Kojiro’s. Their fingers intertwined gently, with a bit of fear. A bit of wonder. A bit of what does this mean and is this simply comfort that ran through Kojiro’s head at the time.

But every wall of Kojiro’s in that moment had shattered. Like ice being hit by a rocket. A million tiny pieces of layers and layers to protect himself from ever having a moment of weakness, gone.

All because of Kaoru.

“Hey,” Kaoru grasped Kojiro’s cheek and pulled. “What are you spacing out for?”

“Ow!” Kojiro said as Kaoru tugged on his cheek again, a little harsher than the last time. “I was reminiscing!”

“About?”

“The night I fell in love with you.”

Kojiro enjoyed watching Kaoru wracked his brain around that statement. He was probably trying to pinpoint a moment in time when that happened. Kojiro realized he probably never told Kaoru that the night in his restaurant was the catalyst for his feelings to bloom. To be planted. To grow along the cracks in his walls like ivy. Until Kaoru was inexplicably the owner of his heart, forever. For always.

“Ah,” Kojiro laughed at Kaoru’s response. Anticipated, and heartwarming. Kaoru flushed, “Why are you thinking about that?”

“You’re not curious about which night I’m referring to?”

Kaoru narrowed his eyes and then said, “Berlin.”

“No.”

“Spain.’

“No.”

“Jamaica.”

“No. Well,” Kojiro tilted his head. He rubbed at his chin wistfully, “You losing the beef and having to wear that bikini was definitely a si-Hey!”

Kaoru flicked paint that landed right on Joe’s jumper. “We don’t speak about that ever again.” Another flick of paint.

“Stop! Not on my jumper!” Kojiro pleaded, “I like this a lot!”

“We’re painting.” Kaoru’s grin was wicked, “We’re bound to have acciden-OI!”

Kojiro returned the favor by flicking paint right back at Kaoru. The two quickly fell into a war of flinging paint and running around the living room, cackling and falling and slipping and messy. By the time it was all said down, the two men were on the floor. Laying on their backs. Covered from head to toe in paint.

Kojiro panted, turning his head to the side. Kaoru was already staring at him. That made him smile. “We should get a professional. To finish painting the rest.”

“That’s an idea…” Kaoru turned his head back to one of the walls. The only wall they were able to finish all the way through before falling into their madness. “Though I also like painting it ourselves.” He turned onto his side, resting his chin upon his arm. Kojiro turned to meet him. They faced one another. Covered by the sunset’s golden blanket that seeped through their large, arched windows. “It’s like… designing our own skateboards all over again. Pouring love into something. But now it’s for our home,” Kaoru’s cheeks colored. His eyes warmed over, molten honey that settled into the crevices of Kojiro’s heart. Making it pound loudly, adoringly against the hollowness of his ribcage.

How had Kojiro ever considered building up walls to keep Kaoru out? When this moment, here on the floor covered in paint in the living room of their future home, was a blessing come from heaven down to earth?

“Yeah,” Kojiro cupped Kaoru’s face, enjoying the way Kaoru leaned into the touch. “Our home… we’re building a home.”

They finished painting the walls of their living room the next day. Then they tackled the kitchen. The bedroom. The dining hall. The guest rooms. The attic. Buying a home together was a weird, liberating, exciting rush. Of possibilities and new beginnings. But as Kojiro stood in the living room, now complete, feeling a sense of pride. Feeling a sense of newness in his chest. A rushing deliverance. A feeling of this is right. And as Kaoru stood behind him, chin resting against Kojiro’s arm, staring at their finished work. Their newly painted walls. Everything felt like it was in its place for a purpose.

Thank you for letting down your walls. Thank you for letting me in.

IV / BEDROOM

A bedroom is a sacred place. It is fitted to match one’s inner desires. To reflect a person’s soul in the most personal, intimate way. A shared bedroom is no different. Where two ideas come into one. A bedroom is not just the place to lay your head in at night. It’s not just the place where you make love to (if you make it there at all). But rather, it’s a place that once the day is over—no matter how long and tiring it was—you know you can find peace beneath the covers, tucked into the arms of your beloved.

We fought over the decor, but I’m glad I get to share this space with you and you alone.

Every bone in Kaoru’s body ached. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the tightness in his muscles. The soreness in his back. The pain throbbing in his backside. He stared at the clock, squinting when he saw the numbers 3:00 A.M. reflect back at him.

“Ah,” it was late again. Of course it was. He rubbed at his eyes, his glasses pushing up from the movement. To which he just decided to take them off for good, resting them onto his table. His knees ached something foul. How long had he been sitting at this spot? Working? “Carla.”

“Master, you have been working for approximately 5 hours and 17 minutes.”

“Makes sense why I feel so…” Kaoru forced himself to stand. Every joint in his body creaked. He winced, “Tired.”

Kaoru’s sleeping habits were atrocious. He could say that aloud. They were developed out of circumstances and avoidance, really. An inability to fall asleep peacefully meant he’d rather avoid sleeping all together. So he pushed himself towards work. While saying that night hours were his best for creativity.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t create as much as he wanted to tonight. There were no pressing deadlines and his works were doing well. But he did have a few personal projects he wanted to get a head start on. Only to find himself hit with creative block.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

Kaoru’s heart pulsed. He turned his head to find Kojiro leaning against the doorframe of his study. Wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hung far too low on his hips.

Kojiro yawned and padded forward barefoot until he was standing behind Kaoru. “Are you finally turning in for the night?”

Kaoru stretched. His bones popped one by one. Sleeping, yeah. Maybe he should. He yawned, “Why are you still up?” He asked, leaning his head back until it rested against Koijro’s stomach.

“Because I woke up and you weren’t beside me,” Kojiro’s honesty would always take Kaoru’s breath away. His heartbeat vibrated. He frowned, but not in displeasure. Kojiro met his frown with a crooked smile. “Our bed’s far too big for me and me alone.”

“You’re rather big. You sure that’s not true?”

“Positive,” Kojiro squeezed Kaoru’s shoulders. Kaoru rested his hand on top of Kojiro’s. Falling asleep beside Kojiro sounded heavenly. He might just take up that offer.

Kaoru pouted his lips a bit, fixing his face to look charming and innocent. “Will you carry me to bed?”

Kojiro scoffed, “Your legs not working?”

“They’ve powered down for the night.”

“I see, I see.” Kojiro bent down and Kaoru wrapped his arms around Kojiro’s neck. His pulse thumped as he was lifted into the air. Held securely in Kaoru’s arms. Who kept a tight grip on Kaoru’s back and legs. “C’mon, princess. Let’s go sleep.”

Kaoru rested his head against Kojiro’s shoulder as he was carried. Kojiro spoiled him immensely. Without limits. Without hesitation. And Kaoru always wondered if he’d ever scrape the bottom of Kojiro’s love. If he’d ever find out that perhaps, his love was not an infinite resource. If one day, he’d ask too much. Or become too much. Or be too much.

But then Kojiro settled him down onto the bed so gently. Under the covers and all. And slid in beside him. Holding Kaoru close to his body. And Kaoru turned around so his nose was pressed against Kojiro’s neck. He inhaled, and Kaoru’s scent of warm amber and softened hibiscus made his bones melt. His muscles relax. All the tension and soreness evaporated.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” Kaoru said quietly.

Kojiro squeezed, “I can’t sleep without ya anymore, I’ve realized.” His chuckle was sprinkled with sleepiness.

“I realized,” Kaoru yawned. His eyes slipped shut. “That I don’t sleep quite as well if you’re not beside me, either.”

“Look at us. Developing a healthy codependency at 3 in the morning.”

“What better time than the present?”

They fell asleep rather quickly. Bundled under blankets and in one another’s arms. Kaoru used to always sleep with Carla playing music in the background. Because he needed noise to occupy his brain. So there was something in the dark to hang onto. So his anxieties wouldn’t keep him up at night like monsters under the bed. But now that he had Kojiro, and now that Kojiro had him, sleep came much easier.

Kaoru’s glad they have their own bedroom now. A place to call their own. That they don’t have to shuffle between homes on the weekdays or weekends. That they finally had their own bedroom with decor they fought over. With the hanging plants Kojiro was so obsessed with. With the giant painting Kaoru had successfully bartered from an art dealer. With new furniture they’d no doubt keep adding onto. A bedroom that had all their interests. Kaoru’s fans and Kojiro’s tacky palm tree wall decals. The deep purple walls and the hints of green throughout the room in accent pieces and plants.

Kaoru could sleep here because there wasn’t this overwhelming sense of loneliness. This sense of worry or fear. Kojiro brought security. Their room cultivated peace. And since they started sleeping here more often, Kaoru’s sleep had become more restful. More restoring.

Your bedroom is your sanctuary.

V / HOME

“We’re here!”

Kojiro lifted his head up from his book. Kaoru was resting his head on his lap, sprawled out on the couch. But they both got up once they heard the sound of their friends filter through the house.

“And just like that, our peace is ruined.” Kaoru sighed, fixing his glasses.

Kojiro laughed, “Dramatic much?”

“I love my peace,” Kaoru pushed Kojiro’s shoulder. “It’s a luxury I indulge in often.”

“Hey, your house looks great!” Reki bounded in first, followed by Langa and Miya. Hiromi, Oka, and Kiriko were not far behind. Though they took up the rear.

“I love the color you’ve chosen for the walls, guys!” Kiriko gushed, holding onto a present in her hands. Actually, they all had various forms of presents with them now that Kojiro noticed. Some were wrapped rather immaculately while others… he stared at Langa who held up a poorly wrapped box, blank expression and all.

“Did you guys bring us housewarming gifts?” Kojiro took off his own reading glasses and rested it on the coffee table. “You didn’t have to! It’s just a dinner party.”

“In your new home,” Hiromi pressed on, hoisting his gift onto his shoulder. Oh, wow. Kojiro’s eyes widened. Now that was quite the box. “By the way, how did you guys even find this place? It’s freakin’ huge.”

“I know a guy,” Kaoru said slyly.

Oka snorted, “This is why I thought you had yakuza ties. Remember when I said that, Kiriko?”

Kirko laughed as Kaoru folded his arms across his chest, scowling. Kojiro laughed right along with her. Which earned him a punch on the shoulder from Kaoru, but that was fine by him.

“I loved that conspiracy theory of yours.” Kiriko said after calming down, “Then we found out Kaoru’s just really good at networking and using his pretty face to his advantage.”

“Well make yourselves at home!” Kojiro grinned, loving the way that sounded. Home. A place he got to share with Kaoru. A place he got to build and create with Kaoru. A place he could invite his friends over to enjoy and take part in.

When Kojiro had offered the idea of them living together, he didn’t expect Kaoru to say yes right away. He also hadn’t expected asking so soon, either. They were only dating for about seven months (now, it’s nearly been a year). He was waiting for Kaoru to dodge the question. To say no thank you. To scrunch up his face and list a million reasons as to why it was illogical for them to share a space together when they’ve only been together for seven months.

But the idea of home must have struck a chord within Kaoru. Because Kojiro’s heart was hammering and wildly going out of orbit, only to be rested when he saw pure light illuminate on Kaoru’s face. As if the idea of having a home with Kaoru was something he never considered a possibility, and that seeing it unfurl was better than any dream he could conjure up.

Kaoru had said yes. Then he immediately booted up Carla and started getting to work with finding a home because he just so happened to have seen one on the market being sold by a friend of his. Kaoru also considered living together, but didn’t have the courage to say it. God, Kojiro was so glad he had. Kojiro was so glad he had bit the bullet and shot the gun. Because now they had a home together.

Now they had a home.

Everyone put their gifts down and Kojiro took them towards the dining room. Miya and Reki made a beeline to look at anything that appeared valuable. Langa went for the food immediately. Oka and Kirko helped pop open bottles of champagne and sparkling cider (for the kids, of course) and Hiromi assisted Kaoru with setting up the table.

“Whoooa,” Miya took in the place, rocking on the back of his heels. “Joe, I can tell which decor pieces are yours from Cherry’s.”

Langa held up a bedazzled tiger head statue, “I remember when you got this from the arcade.”

“Oh my God, yeah!” Reki had two drumsticks in hand and was biting into one of them. He waved the other around like a wand. “You won a crap ton of tickets that day and you were determined to come home with that thing!” He swallowed around the mouthful of food, “Cherry how’d you let him convince you to put that in your home?”

“First of all, that’s fragile! Be careful with it!” Kojiro took the bedazzled tiger head statue and cradled it safely in his arms. Fixing Langa a sour look that was only returned with a tiny smile and shrug. “Second of all, what does that mean? I have good taste!”

“Yeah,” Oka said behind his glass of wine. “I mean, it’s definitely good in the abstract.”

“The abstract?!”

“As a concept,” Miya continued, drinking his sparkling apple cider. “Conceptually, it’s good. But in theory…”

“Listen,” Hiromi stood beside Oka holding the entire bottle of champagne. He ignored the side glance Oka gave him and brought the bottle to his lips, sighing after he was finished. “We all know Cherry’s got the taste between you two.”

“It’s true,” Kaoru said as he reached for a grape. He popped into his mouth with a satisfying grin that made Kojiro nearly see red. “I have the taste in this relationship. You have the…” Kaoru paused, with his champagne glass near his lips. “Acquired? Taste. Yeah,” he took a sip. “That sounds right.”

“Kojiro, I like the tiger statue! And I also love the flashy neon sign. The pink and green palm tree has super summery beach vibes! Perfect for your beach man bum aesthetic,” Kiriko raised her glass in the air and everyone followed suit.

“Cheers to beach bum Joe!” Hiromi hollered.

“Cheers!” Everyone said in response.

Kojiro could not believe the affront on his person that was occurring in his own home! By his beloved no less. He felt abandoned. Discarded. Ashamed. He hugged his tiger statue and clutched his glass of champagne like a woman scorned. “I’ll remember this… mark my words!” The room erupted with laughter that did nothing to ease his ache but you know what? If they could all have fun in this space, their home, then… well.

It was alright.

Home is where the heart is, after all.

After the dinner party, food, bottles of champagne, and one tiger statue later. Kojiro found himself on the balcony overlooking their soon to be finished garden area. He had a glass of champagne in his hands, though it remained untouched. He was looking down at the garden, knowing that in a few months they’d have rose bushes and azaleas and hydrangeas and maybe some sunflowers here or there. They’d work on the garden together. A personal project between the two of them. Something they could both say they grew and cultivated together. Kojiro was rather looking forward to it. As Kaoru was a horrible gardener, and Kojiro had two green thumbs.

He smiled to himself, already imagining Kaoru in the garden bed with a hat on his head and the sun on his back and his face scrunched up in utter determination to win the invisible competition between them. And Kojiro knowing fully well he’d be indulging in every ounce of that invisible competition also.

“Hey there, tiger.”

Kojiro turned his head, finding Kiriko at the entrance to his balcony. She smiled.

“Care for some company?” Kiriko asked.

Kojiro nodded to the space beside him, “The more the merrier,” he said ruefully.

Kiriko took the offered space beside him. She rested her arms against the balcony and turned her head upwards towards the moon. It was nice to see her out of her usual suit and tie. Now she had on an adorable blue sundress and her hair in a loose bun. He’d known her for years because she frequented his restaurant a lot. By association, she became acquainted with Kaoru because she was a huge fan of his works and begged Kojiro to introduce them. Come to find out, Kiriko and Kaoru had many things in common—mostly their love for extravagant things and wine.

Now, she was a part of their little ragtag group of skaters, and Kojiro was thankful for it.

“How’s the party going?” He asked.

Kiriko said, “The usual. Hiromi’s drunk as a skunk and cried because he found Oka’s wedding ring. Asked who he was married to. Oka’s a menace so he said ‘Oh… well… you know.’ Which led to Hiromi locking himself in the bathroom for five minutes until Oka finally let him know that the person he’s married to is none other than Hiromi himself.”

Kojiro cracked up. He couldn’t help it. He could see that all playing out in his head! “Man, those two are something else. But they work so well together. I remember crying on their wedding day because I was so moved.”

“I was crying right with you,” Kiriko grinned.

“Man, marriage,” Kojiro let loose a deep breath after he settled down, tapping his fingers along his glass. “That’s, it’s big. You know. Getting married.”

“Bigger than owning a home together?”

“Yeah,” Kojiro snorted. “That’s actually not as terrifying, believe it or not. We were practically living together anyways. Just taking turns at each other’s homes. This was for convenience. But marriage… I never thought I’d get married, you know. Is that strange?”

“Not really, no. Marriage isn’t for everyone. It’s not the end all be all of relationships.” Kiriko said. “I know a lot of people who just exist as a couple and never anything more. It’s possible.” She shot a sidelong look at Kojiro, causing him to get a bit on the defensive. He knew that look. It was her investigator, private eye look. Where she took things apart down to the bone to figure out the truth. He hated being on that end of her look. “You're thinking about proposing to Kaoru, aren’t you?”

“I,” he worked his jaw. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. God, why’d she have to be so perceptive. “I’ve,” he tried again, “considered it. Yes.”

“AHHHHHHHHH!” Kiriko latched onto Kojiro, his drink spilling a bit from the movement. She shook him several times, her eyes dazzling and twinkling with excited starbursts. “Kojiro, yes! YES! That’s incredible. You have to!” She gasped, covering her mouth. Then she lowered her voice to a near conspiratory whisper, “Do you have rings picked out?”

“You’re so nosy, Kiriko…”

“Kojiro answer the question!”

“I do! I do, okay! They’re in a box. Hidden in my kitchen cabinet where I keep all my pots and pans because I know Kaoru would never go in there.”

“Oh that’s smart,” Kiriko nodded, rubbing her chin. “Using Kaoru’s habits against him… that’s brilliant.”

Kojiro rolled his eyes, “Thanks, I guess. I’ve had them for about a month now. Before our one year anniversary.”

“So where’s the hesitation?”

“Isn’t it too soon?” He blurted out, looking down into his glass. “We’ve only been official for a year. Normally couples wait a while before popping the question, right?”

“Kojiro, why are you comparing your relationship to others when you know they’re nothing like what you have with Kaoru?” That question made him pause. As if a new dawning had come and Kojiro could finally see the horizon.

Why was he comparing? When ever since he and Kaoru met in kindergarten their relationship had never operated quite like anything else he’s ever known. Surely not like any other relationship out there. What they had was theirs. How they chose to move and operate was their own.

“I say that because,” Kiriko continued, her voice softer. Her eyes more considerate. “You’re overthinking here. You’ve known each other for years. You’re each other’s best friends. Move on your own time, not what you think you should do based on what others have done.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, “Think about. Okay, tiger?” She pressed a brief peck on his cheek and then headed for the door. On the way out, she turned on her heel. “Oh! But if you propose, I have to be there because I wanna take pictures! And I call being the maid of honor!”

Despite himself, Kojiro smiled. Big and lazy—bright and rejuvenated. As his mind circled through all the ways he could propose to Kaoru. All the ways he could bring their little rag tag group into the mix. All the ways he could confess his desire to spend life with Kaoru over and over and over again.

He raised his glass in the air, “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else for the role but you, Kiriko.”

“Damn straight!” She pumped her fist in the air and left Kojiro alone, to his thoughts, on the balcony. Overlooking the garden. With the moon as his witness.

I want to spend forever with you, in this home of ours. Just us two.

BONUS / THE GARDEN

When Kojiro proposed to Kaoru in the garden of their home it went something like this:

“Kaoru will you-?”

“-Are you proposing? What the fuck? Kojiro, get up! Why are you-”

“-Can I finish please? Why do you want me to get up? I’m not proposing standing up-!”

“-Because I’m! You! In front of them? You tried to bamboozle me!”

“I did no-”

“-You did! You did! Kojiro, seriously? You’re serious about this? About getting married to me? To me?”

“No, I want to get married to Shadow!”

“I’m already spoken for, thank you!”

“Reki, how long do you think they’ll go on like this for?”

“Honestly? Maybe another thirty minutes…. Miya are you recording?”

“Every precious second.”

“Kiriko, you owe me twenty bucks.”

“Oka, we’ll talk about that later.”

Kojiro rubbed a hand over his face. His hand holding the ring box shook violently. He felt every nerve in his body throb with an angry pulse. But then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he opened his eyes he found Kaoru staring up at him. Kaoru’s mouth quivered. His eyes were shiny and bright. He sniffed loudly.

“I love you, you know. Of course I’d want to marry you.”

“You should have just said that first,” Kojiro felt his own eyes burning. Wasn’t this their song and dance though? Always tugging and pulling, never doing things properly. Always a little messy. But working out perfectly when they needed to be.

Kaoru held out his left hand, shaking his fingers. “My answer was implied.”

“In your freaking out?” Kojiro took out the ring from the box and slipped it onto Kaoru’s ring finger. There was something intimately devastating about the action. Watching the ring slide perfectly over Kaoru’s knuckle, settling comfortably at the bottom of his finger. Kojiro sniffled loudly. He didn’t trust himself to speak, or else he’d start crying.

“Kojiro,” Kaoru’s tender prayer of his name settled over Kojiro’s skin. He bent down until they were both at eye level. Kaoru smiled with a smile that was only reserved for Kojiro. Cotton soft at the corners, tinged with a loving pink on the curves of his lips. He cupped Kojiro’s face, and Kojiro got a good look at the rose cheeks blooming across the expanse of Kaoru’s face. “Kojiro, I’ll marry you. Statistically, our marriage would have a high success rate. So it’s wise to invest in us.”

“Oh thank God the numbers are with us,” Kojiro pressed his forehead to Kaoru, laughing and laughing. Feeling a sense of joy planted in his heart. Blooming into hope. Growing and growing into elation. They were cultivating something together. Planting seeds for a future where together, it was them. Forever. Solidified. So all the nights wondering and waiting and fearing an end was near. Worried that one day they would collapse. Were all snipped off like thorns and weeds from their garden.

Now they could bloom together. Secure and comfortable in the fact that they have chosen each other today, they have chosen each other yesterday, and they would continue choosing each other forever more. Spending their days together in the home they worked on. The home they built together. The home they decided to take root in.

Reki was a sobbing mess when he ran over and tackled Kojiro and Kaoru, followed by Kiriko and Hiromi who were also a crying wreck. Miya cried but he would deny it if anyone asked him personally. Oka kept a dry eye but his smile was incredibly tender. Langa didn’t cry either, but he was smiling so bright—the biggest smile Kojiro had ever seen.

Kojiro’s cheeks hurt as he grasped Kaoru’s hand, the one with the ring. Rubbing his thumb over the band. He raised Kaoru’s hand and kissed the ring.

“Thank you for saying yes.”

Kaoru, eyes a little red at the corners, raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think I’d reject you?”

“No. Well,” Kojiro said after a beat. “You could have. Because you’re a menace.”

“True,” Kaoru said without shame, and Kojiro couldn’t help but smile.

The rest of the night ended in celebration. They popped open their best bottles of wine and their most sparkling bottle of juices and celebrated the night away in their garden. And then, when everyone left. When it was just Kojiro and Kaoru alone in their room. Taking their time to explore one another, to devour each other in kisses, to feel each other in ways they may not have done before. When it was Kojiro and Kaoru.

Kaoru leaned forward, straddling Kojiro’s hips. His hair spilling down the slopes of his body illuminated by the moon’s careful glow. He brought his own hand to his lips, kissed the ring while keeping eye contact with Kojiro. The desire in Kojiro’s stomach twisted something awful. He held onto Kaoru’s hips, fingers digging into the skin.

“You’ll be stuck with me, you know.”

“I figured that when we decided to build a home together.”

“Yeah,” Kaoru’s voice was wine sweet, honeysuckle. When they kissed, Kojiro got drunk off the taste. “Yeah,” Kaoru breathed against Kojiro’s lips. “Home. Our home. We built a home together, Kojiro. Some days I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I. But I love it. Everyday. Waking up to the walls and the doors and the windows and the garden and this room, knowing we built everything together from the ground up. That we’ll keep doing that until we’re old and gray and wrinkly.”

“Sounds romantic,” Kaoru laughed softly.

Kojiro grinned, “Thank you, I try.”

And we’ve built this home together, you and I.