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“Tired, Yuu?” Sanemi asks softly, when he feels Giyuu snuggle his face into his shoulder. The campfire burns beautifully in front of them, along with the relaxed laughter of Shinobu, Kanae, Kyojuro, Mitsuri, and even Obanai while Tengen tells a story. Mitsuri’s also falling asleep, her hand intertwined with Obanai’s while Kaburamaru remains safely tucked around his neck. Tengen has one arm around Kyojuro, and as he uses his other to make wild hand gestures to match his story, Sanemi can see the faint blush around Kyojuro’s cheeks even in the soft light of the flames.
“Not at all,” Giyuu replies, his delicate features easily breaking into a yawn. Within seconds, Sanemi yawns too, earning a tease from Shinobu about how in sync they are. If Giyuu weren’t sleepy, he’d come up with a snarky remark, and if Sanemi weren’t so enamored with the man next to him, he’d bite back, too. But Giyuu’s close to falling asleep right there, and Sanemi just can’t take his eyes off of his boyfriend.
It’s unfair, really, how much he loves him. Sanemi never thought he could love like this—this much, this wholly. But sitting here, with Giyuu pressed close to his side and the stars twinkling down from the clear autumn sky, their stomachs full of Mitsuri’s best sandwiches and Kyojuro’s top-tier smores, Sanemi has never been more content. He touches the side of Giyuu’s face, once again thinking about how pretty he is, when said man nuzzles his cheek into his palm. Sanemi’s heart just about explodes, and that’s when he swiftly delivers a barrage of kisses to Giyuu’s temple.
Giyuu laughs, a carefree, joyous sound, and despite it, his eyes are tired, the good kind of tired that ensures he’ll knock out peacefully the moment his head touches a pillow. And if they stay here any longer, he’ll be content for that pillow to be Sanemi’s shoulder.
“Alright,” Sanemi starts, and most of their friends look at him, “I think me and Giyuu are gonna head home. He’s gonna pass out any minute,” he laughs. Mitsuri yawns too, laying her head on Obanai’s shoulder.
“Yeah, Ba-ba’s getting sleepy, too,” she says with a smile, referring to Obanai even with her own eyes closed. Nobody misses the way Obanai’s face burns at the contact and nickname despite having been a couple even longer than Sanemi and Giyuu, but for once, they all decide to spare him.
“Get home safe, you four,” Shinobu bids, and Kanae follows up with a “Be safe!” and one of her signature smiles. The arm that was around Kyojuro’s shoulder has now migrated to around his waist, so Sanemi doesn’t fault him for not having the brainpower to respond to their departure with anything other than a wave and a grin.
“Text the group chat when you guys arrive safely,” Tengen adds. Sanemi and Obanai promise to do so and take their partners home. The moment Giyuu buckles in his seatbelt, he starts to hum, eyes drooping and hands patting his thighs gently to the imaginary beat. Sanemi smiles, knowing that Giyuu sings to himself when he’s tired. It’s one of his favorite tidbits about his boyfriend, one that he finds incredibly endearing since Giyuu hardly ever talks around some people, especially when he’s meeting them for the first time. To have him so relaxed in this moment makes Sanemi’s whole body tingle, pure love flowering in his chest. He’s special, no one else gets to see Giyuu like this, and Sanemi feels like the luckiest man in the world.
The drive home is short, if only because all time just disappears like cotton candy in water when his favorite person in the world is by his side. Giyuu’s still humming to himself, except he’s escalated to singing aloud the melody of a song he’s chosen. So Sanemi takes his hand, leading him to the door of their apartment while he fishes out the key with his other. Giyuu slips inside, song still flowing freely from his lips, and Sanemi follows, locking the door and removing his coat and scarf. He shoots Tengen a text announcing their arrival, hangs the clothes up in the closet nearby, and tenderly undoes Giyuu’s scarf and jacket, sliding both off and into the closet as well.
Giyuu wraps his arms around Sanemi’s torso, burying his face between his shoulder blades. “I love you,” he says sleepily, and Sanemi can feel him smiling. He finishes hanging up their clothing and turns around, picking Giyuu up and pressing quick kisses to his shoulder, neck, then cheek. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he responds with a gentle grin while making his way upstairs. Giyuu hums in contentment, tracing small circles in Sanemi’s back with his thumb.
Sanemi walks into their closet, flicking on one of the softer lights to prevent Giyuu from waking up fully. “T-shirt or tank top, babe?” He asks.
“Tank top,” Giyuu mumbles, kissing Sanemi’s shoulder as a thank-you. Sanemi picks one from his side of the closet.
“Shorts or pajamas?”
“Pajamas, please,” Giyuu answers, eyes fully closed. Sanemi grabs those too, along with his own sleepwear. He sits Giyuu down on the bed, who smiles as warmly as he can at his lover.
“Goodness gracious,” Sanemi sighs fondly, cupping Giyuu’s cheeks and kissing his forehead. He’s weak for this man, and he knows it. But he definitely isn’t complaining. “Arms up,” he directs, and Giyuu complies. He slides Giyuu’s shirt up and off, tossing it into the hamper by the door. He takes the tank top and aligns the holes with Giyuu’s arms and head, letting it fall until the hem reaches his hips. “On your back,” he guides, and Giyuu falls backwards, lifting up his legs so that Sanemi can remove his pants properly and replace them with his pajamas.
Sanemi chose one of his own tank tops, the dark grey one that Giyuu really likes, and some blue gingham pajama pants, ones Tanjiro had gotten him for his birthday.
Giyuu returns the favor with a soft, languid kiss before letting Sanemi pull away to change his own clothes. He loves Sanemi’s body, loves every dip, curve, muscle, and scar. He’d caught Sanemi in front of the mirror once, eyes stuck on every darkened line of skin. Sanemi thought of them as ugly, reminders of dark times and memories he wishes would stop replaying in that broken VHS player he calls his mind. Giyuu made Sanemi look at him then, directly into those captivating blue eyes, and told him that they were proof that he’d come out of those experiences as a better person, that they were evidence that he’d survived and for which Giyuu was so, so grateful for. The scars were stars to him, constellations of stories that Giyuu would love to read, over and over like a classic novel. Sanemi had buried his face into Giyuu’s shoulder, and Giyuu held him for a very long time.
Giyuu loves running his graceful hands over those marks, overwriting the tape with the feeling of his tender touches. His favorites, the reasoning being completely unbiased, are the ones on Sanemi’s face. They remind him of some sort of fantasy world, a knight who’d fought through the wretches of a society that threatened to leave him behind.
And, oh, does Sanemi have his ways of making Giyuu feel like royalty.
Sanemi crawls back onto their bed, caging Giyuu in with his arms pressed into the sheets. Giyuu reaches up, drowsy eyes filled with affection as he traces the scars with the most loving brushes of skin. Sanemi closes his eyes, savoring the way his partner never fails to calm the blazing fire always burning beneath his skin.
“You’re beautiful,” Giyuu sighs, genuity seeping into every syllable of the phrase. Sanemi chuckles, opening his eyes just a tad with a fond smile on his face.
“I could say the same for you,” Sanemi retorts. “In fact,” he starts, pulling the blanket out from under Giyuu, “You, Giyuu Tomioka, my dearest, my darling, the love of my life—” Giyuu laughs boisterously as Sanemi blows raspberries into his neck, “—Are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met.”
Giyuu kisses him again, but he just can’t stop smiling. Sanemi sighs contentedly as he lies down next to his beloved, pulling the comforter over both of them and turning to face him. Looking at him now, a sentiment that’s been resurfacing for while now makes itself known again:
He wants to spend the rest of his life with him.
He’s had the ring for over a year now, has been waiting for the perfect moment to propose, maybe with fireworks lighting up the sky at Giyuu’s favorite fancy restaurant and both of them dressed to the nines, because Giyuu deserved nothing but the best. Now, he knows that that wouldn’t have been quite right. But this? With Giyuu sleepily gazing at him from the warmth and comfort of their own bed?
This is what he was waiting for. This is what he wants the rest of his life to look like, to feel like.
“Giyuu,” Sanemi whispers.
“Hmm?” He hums. The ring is downstairs in his coat pocket, not in his hands like it probably should be before this next sentence, but right now, nothing else matters.
“Will you marry me?”
Giyuu’s eyes widen.
Without hesitation, “Yes.”
The next morning, if they have a mini photoshoot with the ring and end up with new wallpapers for both of their phones, a group chat that’s blowing up with congratulatory messages from their friends, and more love for each other than they ever thought possible, well, who’s to know but them?