Work Text:
On any given Friday night, Kanji Shirogane was usually found partaking in one craft or another in his little apartment. This dreary weekend in particular, he was putting together an outfit specially requested by Rise for an upcoming tour, the foot of his sewing machine pounding away a mechanical rhythm that nearly drowned out the rainfall. In fact, as absorbed as he was into his task, it wasn’t until his bobbin ran out of thread – just a few inches from the end of the seam, dammit, – that Kanji even noticed that the afternoon’s lazy gray clouds had, at some point, finally reached their bursting point.
Pulling open a drawer and picking through bobbins in search of the right shade of pink, he glanced at his phone. 11:37 pm. One text from Naoto. After selecting a few pastel candidates, he grabbed the phone and scrolled down to her message.
ALMOST DONE. HOME SOON.
The timestamp told Kanji she’d sent this about half an hour ago. He peeked out the window – when, exactly, had the rain evolved into torrential downfall territory? The station was only about a fifteen minute walk from their current apartment, but in this weather, who knew what could happen. Maybe he should call.
After a couple of indecisive minutes spent staring at his phone – was there time to suggest she get a ride from Dojima? – Kanji’s dilemma was solved for him. From the entrance to their apartment, he heard the front door slam open and leapt to his feet.
“Welcome home,” he called as he headed for the living room, stopping short and staring down the front hall.
Kanji had, from time to time, found himself compelled to compare Naoto to a cat. Small, cute, nimble, graceful – and did he mention cute? And now, he couldn’t help a similar thought from entering his head, only in this case, she more closely resembled a kitten he’d once rescued after watching it take an unfortunate tumble into the Samegawa: utterly drenched and royally pissed. Her hair was plastered to her face, and, shivering, she attempted to keep it out of her eyes while she fumbled with the buttons of her sopping wet jacket. Her eyes darted in Kanji’s direction, but before she could even acknowledge his greeting or his presence, he held up his hands.
“Don’ move. Stay right there.”
Dashing back down the hall before he could see Naoto’s look of irritated confusion, Kanji returned quickly with an armful of towels and a laundry bag. He draped one towel over her head and held out the bag.
“Jacket in here before it drips a river in the doorway,” he told her, “C’mon.”
Scowling, she complied, and as soon as he tied up the bag, Kanji wrapped another towel around her shoulders and began attacking her wet hair with the other.
“Kanj-!” she exclaimed, cutting herself off with a sneeze.
“You tryin’ to catch your death a’cold out there?” Kanji sighed.
Pulling the towel tightly around herself, Naoto grumbled, “It wasn’t raining so hard when I left.”
“Uh-huh.” Satisfied that her hair was as dry as he’d get it, Kanji eased up on the ruffling, draping the towel around her neck like a scarf. His onslaught had left her in a complete state of disarray, hair sticking out in every which way, framing her face wildly. With a better view, he could now see that her cheeks were a bright red, ears and the tip of her nose flushed even deeper. “What happened to your umbrella?”
Naoto grimaced. “It was…carried away by the wind.”
Kanji almost laughed. You’re so small, it’s a good thing ya let go before it took ya with it, he almost said, but he wasn’t in the mood for being shot tonight. Instead, he gave her hair another good ruffle, smiled, and said, “You poor thing. Why don’tcha go get cleaned up and change into somethin’ dry? Hungry?”
“No,” Naoto replied with a shake of her head that sent a few droplets flying. “I ate the bento you packed me about an hour ago. It was sufficient. And delicious.”
“Glad t’hear it,” Kanji chuckled. “Now go on, go get warm. Y’look miserable.”
Scrunching up her nose, Naoto sneezed again, and was seized by a stronger case of shivers. “Astute observation.” Despite Kanji’s best efforts, she was still soaked to the core, trembling violently as water slowly pooled around her feet. “I’ll be in the shower.”
Pausing long enough to remove her shoes and stand on tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek, Naoto slipped past him, not-quite-sprinting to the bathroom. Kanji used one of the spare towels to mop up the mess in the front hall, and the last one to clean the trail of wet footprints between the front door and the bathroom door.
Once he heard the water turn on, Kanji debated with himself how much time he had before Naoto finished. In the morning when she had work, she was the master of the five-minute shower. Given the state in which she’d arrived at home, however, along with the rapidly dropping temperature outside, he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if she spent an hour under the stream of hot water. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Tonight, though, he took an educated guess of 20 minutes. She had looked exhausted, whether from work or the freezing commute home or both. Laying in a warm bed would quickly win out over standing in the shower.
So, 15 minutes later, Kanji was waiting for her in bed, a steaming mug of hot chocolate waiting on Naoto’s bedside table. And, right on cue, the bathroom door opened minutes after that, revealing Naoto, already clad in a set of Kanji’s pajamas. He couldn’t help grinning at her, and she returned it with a soft smile of her own. Giving her hair a final muss, she dropped her towel in a nearby laundry basket and perched on the edge of the bed.
“I see you wasted no time,” she commented, picking up the mug and taking a sip. When she lowered it from her face, it appeared that all the whipped cream he’d generously lathered on top had taken up residence on her nose. He thought – as he did when Naoto did most anything – she couldn’t be any cuter if she tried.
“You got a little somethin’…” Kanji tapped the side of his own nose, pursing his lips in a poorly-concealed smile.
“Hmm?” Looking down, Naoto turned pink as she saw the large dollop of whipped cream on her face. “Y-you did that on purpose!”
“Did what?” Kanji laughed. In lieu of answering, Naoto swiped at her nose, leaning over and smudging whipped cream down the bridge of Kanji’s. “Hey!”
“Now we’re even,” she declared, apparently completely unaware of her hot chocolate mustache.
Smirking, Kanji sat up on one elbow and reached out with his other hand to lace his fingers through Naoto’s hair. She slowly laid down and allowed him to guide her close enough to meet his lips. Tugging the comforter up to cover both of them, Kanji broke away to press a kiss to her cheek before leaning his forehead against hers. Fingers still playing absently with her hair, he nuzzled her in an Eskimo kiss, prompting a hum of amusement from her lips.
“You realize I just took a shower.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you realize you’re making a mess out of both of us.”
“Hey, I ain't the one who can’t drink cocoa without gettin’ stuff all over my face.”
Suddenly, Naoto’s hands snaked under Kanji’s shirt and pressed against his torso.
“Hey! You’re freezin’!” he yelped.
“And you’re very warm,” Naoto replied, a mischievous spark in her sleepy eyes. “Marriage is compromise, is it not?”
Months after the fact, that word, in this context, still unleashed butterflies in his stomach. “Not sure that’s exactly what they had in mind when they came up with that saying.”
Withdrawing her hands, Naoto sought out his free one and clasped it between hers. Kanji held them all to his chest as she slowly kissed him good-night. Eventually, she lowered her head and tucked herself under his chin, cheek pressed against his collarbone. He could feel her breath, warm on his skin, as she murmured, “I love you, Kanji-kun.”
Draping his arm around her waist, Kanji kissed the top of her head one last time and whispered back, “I love you. Sweet dreams, Naoto.”
“Mmm,” she managed to acknowledge him before he could tell she had drifted off. He wasn’t far behind, silently thanking, not for the first time, whatever cosmic forces were at play that had deemed him worthy of falling asleep holding the most perfect person in the universe. This limbo between sleep and wakefulness, aware of nothing but warmth and the presence of the love of his life snuggled against his chest; this, he knew, was pure bliss. He let out a sigh as he slipped, the only thought in his mind how much he was looking forward to waking up holding Naoto Shirogane in his arms.