Work Text:
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just stay with Kofuku and Daikoku until I get back?” Yato asks for about the millionth time since Yukine woke up this morning.
“I’m sure,” Yukine says without looking up from his comic book.
Yato stays quiet for a few beats. Yukine doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s fidgeting nervously.
“Are you sure? Cuz I can still call–”
“Yato,” Yukine says exasperatedly, finally looking up to glare at his guardian. “I’m not a little kid. I can handle being home alone for a few hours. I do it all the time.”
Yato sighs, picking uselessly at the work apron slung over his arm, and honest-to-god pouts at Yukine. “I know, but still...”
Yukine knows Yato wants to point out that he’s never actually stayed home alone when Yato worked this late. It sparks annoyance in his chest.
“Just go to work, you lazy idiot,” Yukine grumbles, turning back around. “I can take care of myself just fine.”
“... I’m gonna tell Hiyori to stop by after work.”
“Yato–”
“Relax,” Yato cuts him off, already pulling out his phone and flipping it open. “She doesn’t have to stay long, I just want her to stop in really quick in case you need something or something happens.”
“Nothing’s going to happen!” Yukine groans. “I’ll be fine, Yato!”
“Then just humor me, okay?” Yato says, snapping his phone shut.
Yukine frowns sourly but lets it go. “Fine, but I’m gonna tell her you were talking about her in your sleep last night.”
“Yukineeee.”
“Don’t you have a job to get to?” Yukine snaps.
Yato hums unhappily but finally opens the door to leave. “I’ll be back by 11, okay?”
“Yup.”
“So you better be asleep by the time I get back.”
“Mhm.”
“I mean it, Yukine.”
“Got it.”
Yato sighs, pausing for a moment. “...Make sure to call me if anything happens.”
“Goodbye, Yato.”
“Fine, fine, I’m going. See you later.”
The door shuts behind him, and just like that, Yukine has the entire apartment to himself for the rest of the night. He manages to entertain himself with comics for the better part of an hour, and then decides that he’s hungry at around five.
He wanders into the kitchen to find something to eat, and comes up with leftover pasta still in the fridge from last night, when Yato was home to make them dinner.
While Yukine waits for the microwave to heat up his food, he glances out the window. It’s surprisingly dark already, for summer.
Yukine leans over the counter to peak up at the sky. The clouds are thick enough to block out the sun, and they’re tinted gray. But a storm definitely feels like something Yato would anxiously check the chances of when leaving Yukine home alone to work a late shift, and he didn’t mention anything about it before he’d left.
The microwave beeps shrilly, startling Yukine. He jumps, loses his grip underneath himself for a second, and smacks his hip against the lip of the counter.
Yukine’s hand immediately flies to the injury as he hisses softly at the sudden pain. He lifts his shirt to examine the area. It looks fine for the moment, but he’s sure it’ll bruise. He lets the shirt fall back, rubbing absently at the ache, and moves to quiet the microwave.
He carries his meal back into the living room and settles back down on the couch. He takes a bite of the pasta, and parts of it are still a little cold, but Yukine doesn’t want to bother getting up again. He takes another bite, just as sporadically cold, and contemplates how to entertain himself for the next few hours.
His hip is still burning, but he ignores it in favor of scrolling through his phone. He lands on his messaging app. Maybe Suzuha wants to call or something.
Hey
You doing anything rn?
A text bubble appears almost instantly, and Yukine chuckles around a third mouthful of pasta. He types out another message before Suzuha can finish.
That’s an awful fast response. You waiting for me to text you or something?
The bubble disappears and then pops up again.
you literally responded before i even finished typing
how does it feel to be obsessed with me?
Yukine rolls his eyes, lifting another bite to his mouth as he types with one hand.
Shut up
nah, im good
but as i was saying before you cut me off
im actually getting ready to bring all my plants in before the storm starts
Yukine blinks at the message. He sets his fork in the bowl of pasta resting in his lap so he can use both thumbs to type.
It’s supposed to storm tonight?
yeah
i dont think its supposed to get too bad but better safe than sorry ya know?
He can just picture Suzuha lining up all of his potted charges to care for them with embarrassing devotion. He smiles.
You’re such an overprotective plant dad
thank you, id like that printed on a tshirt
It’s embarrassing
thank you rescinded
Yukine blows out a breath of air in a laugh.
Go take care of your plants, tree boy
pff, okay
go read your comics, nerd
Yukine snorts softly and turns off his phone. He sets it down to take another bite of his pasta, but it comes back 100% cold, and he decides he’s not hungry anymore.
Glancing out of the windows in the living room, Yukine notices that the sky has gotten even gloomier. Leave it to Yato to fuss over him for three days and not know about the storm they’re apparently having tonight. Typical.
“Whatever,” Yukine grumbles. “It’ll be fine.”
He gets up from the couch to take his bowl to the sink, but he leaves the pasta in it, because he knows it’ll bug Yato to have to clean it, and Yukine’s annoyed with him. He gathers his things from the living room, turns off the light, and walks down the hall to his room.
The comics get stacked on Yukine’s dresser, and he takes his phone and curls up under his blanket, still wearing the same pajamas he woke up in this morning.
He rolls over for a moment to glance out the window opposite his door. The sky’s dark enough now it almost feels like nighttime. Yukine rolls back over and distantly misses the sun.
He scrolls on his phone for a bit, and as it just barely turns six pm, Yukine feels his eyes grow heavy. He thinks he really should be awake when Hiyori gets here, but the thought gets drowned out by the sound of the rain now pattering against his window.
“Yukine.”
“Just go to work already,” Yukine growls, sprawled out on the couch with his comics. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, I’m going,” Yato says, surprisingly without a fight.
Yukine glances up as Yato opens the front door. It’s raining.
“Hey, wait, you never–” The front door shuts before Yukine’s even finished sitting up.
He stands up and hurries to the door. He tugs it open.
“Yato! You never said there was-” Yukine stops. It’s pitch black.
“Yato?” Yukine calls weakly. It’s swallowed quickly by the rain.
Something like dread settles in his chest. Something’s wrong.
“Yato!” It’s louder, but it barely reaches his ears.
“Yato!” Something’s wrong. Why is the rain so loud?
“Yato!” Someone’s coming. Can Yato even hear him?
“YATO!” He’s coming. Can anybody hear him?
He’s suddenly there, in the distance, running towards the door that Yukine needs to shut right now.
He’s back inside and the door is locked and it’s okay. He can’t get in if the door is locked.
“Yukine!”
Yato’s banging on the door and he’s on the wrong side of it.
Yukine shouldn’t have called. Why did he shout for him like an idiot? Like he wouldn’t hear?
He just has to be quick. Yukine can be fast. He just has to let Yato in and close the door again before he gets in.
Yukine unlocks the door. Yato walks in. Yukine rushes to close it again. A hand snaps over the edge of the door and shoves.
Yukine falls onto the floor, scrambling back on his hands and feet away from the figure in the doorway. His hand is curled around the the wood of the door like this house is an old, rusted fridge that Yukine will have to claw his way out of. His face peeks through the opening in the doorway, lit from behind by the light of the moon like it’s the last thing Yukine thinks he’ll ever see.
“Yato!” Yukine screams, because he has to be just behind him, and he’ll do something, he will.
Only when Yukine turns around, Yato’s gone, and Yukine can’t be sure where he went but he thinks he wouldn’t be able to find him if he tried.
He turns back around. The walls are shrinking around him very, very fast and he’s sure it’s darker now than he swore it was a minute ago and he’s still just standing there, halfway hidden by the door and staring.
Yukine scrambles backward again, or at least he tries to but his limbs feel weighted. His muscles are straining, and his heart is somewhere outside of him. The box is small again, and he’s sure if he moves he’ll feel the walls press into his skin. The man in the doorway shifts, and the door slams. Yukine feels the resounding crack it makes against the wall in his entire body.
He steps inside. The door bounces back, drifting to a few inches back from the frame, and freezes. The moonlight is faint through the crack in the door. Yukine can’t see him in the dark.
“Yato!” Yukine screams again. Yato’s here, he is, Yukine saw him. “He’s– He’s in here, I– Yato!”
A thumping starts down the hall, growing louder and louder, and Yukine recognizes footsteps, fast and pounding, and he knows what they mean. His hip aches dully, his body is fashioned from millions of these tiny aches, and he’s in trouble again (but he didn’t do anything wrong).
Yukine pushes away from the door, and he’s lying on his side to face it now, he realizes as he scrambles away from the noise. He falls with a thud off of… something and catches himself awkwardly on his forearm and the side of his leg. He finds a wall, and something in his stomach turns, but he presses up against it and makes himself small.
“Yato!” the name is sharp against his throat this time, muffled by the fabric of his pajamas as he hides his face in his knees. The footsteps are close now. “Help me!”
Yukine hears the door swing and collide with the wall again. The sound resonates in his chest, but it doesn’t find his heart there, it’s already fallen far away. Every hair on his body is standing on end as the thumping arrives behind him, even though this shouldn’t– Yato said this would never– Yato promised–
“Yato!” the screech rattles out of him, desperate and pleading because he doesn’t– he can’t be alone with his–
“Yukine-kun?”
His name is soft and gentle and nothing like he is expecting to hear. Yukine unfurls minutely and squints at the figure standing in the darkness behind him. It’s smaller than he thought it would be.
“Hi… Hiyori?” Yukine squeaks out.
A flash of bright light illuminates them for a moment, and he catches her widened eyes and the way she’s approaching him like a wounded animal. He recognizes the brief glimpse of his own bedroom, but still flinches at the loud rumbling that follows.
“Yeah, it’s– it’s me,” Hiyori says, breathlessly. “Just me.”
“R– Right,” Yukine just manages to whisper. His hands are shaking, wrapped protectively around himself, and his chest is heaving.
His cheeks are cold, and he realizes it’s because they’re soaked. He wipes at them distantly and listens to the soft pattering of the rain as he tries to stop trembling. He eventually, slowly, spins around to face Hiyori fully. He leans slightly to the right, resting most of his weight against what he now recognizes as his bed.
“Is… Did the power go out?” Yukine asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Hiyori responds just as quiet. “I’ve got candles set up, in the living room. If you wanna come with me.”
Yukine nods feebly before he realizes she can’t see it. “Okay.”
Yukine struggles to stand on wobbly legs, and another flash of lighting followed by a roar of thunder nearly sends him back down, but then Hiyori’s wrapping an arm around the back of his shoulders, and he can stand.
There’s a part of him that wants to wrap his arms around her, twist his fingers up in her shirt and never let go, or at the very least bundle up the fabric in one palm tight enough that he can be sure she won’t disappear, but he doesn’t do any of that, because it’s embarrassing and he doesn’t need to. All he needs to do is get to the living room and calm down.
Hiyori guides him to the couch, an island in a see of warm candlelight, and it’s easier to breath now that it isn’t so dark. Lightning flashes again, but it’s not as harsh, and the rumbling of thunder startles him less than it did a moment ago.
Hiyori sits beside him and studies his face in a way that makes him feel very young. Yukine presses up against the arm of the couch and looks away. Hiyori lets out a sound somewhere between a breath and a sigh and pulls out her phone.
“I should probably let Yato know–”
“No!” Yukine snaps quickly, embarrassment rushing up from where it’s settled in his stomach to warm his cheeks. “Don’t tell Yato.”
Hiyori looks back at him, studying his face.
“I think he’d want to know if you–”
“He needs to focus on work,” Yukine says, pulling his knees up to rest his arms on. “He doesn’t need to be bothered with stupid stuff.”
“Yukine-kun…” Hiyori trails off hesitantly, like there’s more she wants to say but she isn’t sure what.
“It’s fine.” Yukine takes a deep breath, in then out. “He won’t be able to do anything about it until his shift’s over, so there’s no use worrying him.”
A quiet, infinitely small part of Yukine still wants Yato to be home anyway.
Hiyori looks anxiously between Yukine and her phone, before settling on Yukine with a sigh.
“I already told him about the power while you were asleep,” Hiyori says, turning off her phone. “I won’t tell him the rest, but… you probably should. When he gets home.”
Yukine hums noncommittally, absentmindedly poking at the bruise on his hip to remind himself what it is and where it came from. Something in his chest is still tight, and he can’t imagine it loosening anytime soon.
“Well, it’s almost nine, now,” Hiyori says gently. “Did you eat?”
Yukine nods, but it’s punctuated seconds later by his stomach growling. His face gets a little warmer.
“Well, it wasn’t… a lot, I guess…” Yukine says sheepishly.
Hiyori hums fondly.
“Okay, well, why don’t we get you something?” she asks, standing up and waiting for Yukine to do the same.
“Yeah, okay,” Yukine agrees softly, helping his feet find the ground again and leading the way to the kitchen.
Yukine sits a little stiffly at the counter while Hiyori rummages around in the kitchen for sandwich materials, pausing worriedly at the fridge before quickly taking out the jelly. Yukine thinks distantly that Yato’s left over pasta won’t be good anymore.
Hiyori stays mostly quiet while she makes the sandwiches, glancing at her phone every few seconds and avoiding his eyes. Yukine knows she wants to tell Yato what happened, and he’s glad she’s not, but he wishes she’d talk a little more, just to fill up the silence.
Yukine thinks briefly of texting Suzuha, but then remembers his phone is still somewhere in his room, and the weirdo’s probably already in bed and sleeping right through this storm. The thought, strangely, makes him feel a bit better.
Hiyori slides two finished sandwiches across the counter on a plate and begins packing everything away. Yukine picks one up and starts taking bites.
Hiyori comes back to lean on the counter across from him when she’s done cleaning up and pushes him a glass of water.
“Thanks,” Yukine says, barely audible around a mouthful of sandwich. He takes a few gulps.
“I guess we’re gonna have to figure out something to do until Yato gets home,” Hiyori says.
Yukine pauses in his eating, setting his glass down and looking at her carefully.
“I’m not a little kid, you know.” Yukine says, eyes falling down to examine the last few bites of his sandwich.
“I know,” Hiyori says, in a gentle way that seems to indicate that she doesn’t. “But I think Yato will kill me if I leave you alone with no electricity or running water for two hours.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Yukine scoffs quietly, finishing the last of his sandwich.
He takes a few more sips of water and refuses to meet Hiyori’s eyes even though he can feel them boring into him.
He picks up the second sandwich, and two things happen in quick succession. The first is another flash of lightning followed by it’s accompanied roar of thunder. The second is the door being unlocked and opened.
Now, while the storm is still loud enough that Yukine’s heart jumps a bit at the noise, it’s definitely getting farther away, and on its own it wouldn’t have affected Yukine much overall. The creaking of the door, however, coupled with the knowledge of that stupid, stupid dream, has Yukine stiffening in his seat.
Then the person on the other side of the door pops around the side and Yukine realizes, belatedly, that it’s–
“Yato!” Hiyori says, slightly dumbfounded.
Every muscle in Yukine’s body loosens, even more so when Yato safely closes the door behind him. He looks down and realizes he’s pressed a handprint into his sandwich. There’s jelly on his fingers.
“You’re home early,” Hiyori says, checking the time on her phone. “What happened?”
“Figured I should probably be home to figure out the whole blackout situation,” Yato says, eyes flicking to Yukine and back so quickly Yukine can’t be sure he didn’t imagine it. Yato starts peeling off his wet clothing. Yukine sets down his half-ruined sandwich. “So… here I am!”
Hiyori nods. “I’m glad.”
She takes a moment to not-so-subtly glance between them before moving to gather her things.
“Well, I should… I should probably head home. Don’t wanna get stuck out too late in this.” She pauses by the door in the middle of adjusting her coat. “Will you guys be alright?”
“‘Course we will!” Yato says cheerily, giving her a thumbs up. “You drive safe now. Text me when you get home?”
Hiyori nods and hums an affirmative, fixing up her jacket and pulling the door open. “Goodbye, Yato. Bye, Yukine-kun.”
“Bye, Hiyori!” Yato calls after her happily.
Yukine mumbles a similar, less enthusiastic farewell, and she’s gone. Yato watches her to her car through the window before locking and dead-bolting the door behind her.
Yukine’s just starting to wonder what to do about his sticky fingers when Yato turns on the sink and wets a dishcloth.
“Here.” He holds the rag out, and Yukine snatches it roughly, grounding out a gruff “Thanks” and trying not to be embarrassed at having his predicament noticed.
“You didn’t eat dinner?” Yato gestures to the sandwiches.
Yukine looks up from where he’s scrubbing his hands like they’ve offended him.
“No, I– I heated up some pasta earlier, but I didn’t eat much I guess…” Yukine shrugs awkwardly and mumbles. “It was cold.”
Yato breathes a laugh and brushes his hand over the back of Yukine’s hair, rocking Yukine forward a bit in his seat. “That’s what the microwave’s for, ya dummy.”
“Whatever,” Yukine grumbles, scrubbing off the last of the jelly stuck to his fingertips.
He continues fumbling with the cloth even after he’s done with it and pretends not to notice Yato’s eyes on him.
“I’m sorry.”
Yukine’s squeezing drops of water out of the rag and into his palms. “For what?”
“Not realizing there was gonna be a storm tonight.” Yato sighs and leans back against the counter beside Yukine.
“It’s fine,” Yukine says.
“No, it’s not,” Yato says. “I should’ve– I thought I checked the weather.”
“That doesn’t make it your fault, idiot.”
Yato doesn’t respond, which is probably for the best, because Yukine probably would have started an argument just to avoid the question he knows Yato’s waiting to ask.
“… Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Yukine sits up, pushing the rag and his plate away from him.
“I think the sandwich would disagree,” Yato mumbles.
“Shut up,” Yukine hisses, trying to make it very clear to Yato that he does not want to have this conversation.
Yato pushes off from the table and gathers up the rag, the cup, and the abandoned sandwich plate in his hands. Yukine takes this opportunity to sneak away from the table.
He finds his way to the living room and sits with his knees drawn to his chest, trying to look as standoffish as possible in hopes Yato won’t start his questioning again. It takes Yato a while to follow, and Yukine starts drifting off a bit, scrunched up in the center of the couch. He’s startled back awake when something falls over his shoulders.
His head snaps around and finds Yato, frozen with his hands out a few inches above a blanket settled around Yukine.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, hesitating before situating the blanket fully over Yukine’s shoulders.
“It’s fine,” Yukine murmurs into is knees, pulling the blanket tightly around himself.
Yato positions himself on the couch beside Yukine, one arm slung over the back and the other holding up his phone.
They sit in the quiet for awhile. Yato messes with his phone.
Yukine’s tired again, but all of his nerves are still on edge, and it makes sleeping feel very far away. Slowly, ever so slowly, Yukine slides along the back of the couch, until eventually he’s leaning entirely against Yato. He can tell he’s being watched, because Yato’s fingers have stilled at the edges of his phone.
“It was a nightmare,” Yukine says finally, no more than a whisper against the fabric of his blanket. “About my dad.”
“Okay,” Yato says softly. His phone goes dark, and he rests it in his lap. Yukine misses having something to look at.
“You were leaving for work again, like earlier, but… it started raining, and when I went to get you, you were already gone,” Yukine says quietly. “Then he was just… there, and I got the door locked just fine but then you just– just appeared, and I had to unlock it to let you in, you jerk.”
“Sorry,” Yato mumbles.
Yukine scoffs, but it doesn’t come out quite as annoyed as he wants it to. “Don’t actually apologize, idiot.”
Yato doesn’t say anything to that. Yukine becomes aware of the fact that Yato’s arm must have fallen off the back of the couch at some point and is now wrapped around him. He takes a deep breath.
“Anyway, so I let you in, because, well, he’s– he’s far away, but then I open the door and he just… pops right up behind you and tries to– to push his way in.” Yukine’s breath shakes this time as he takes it in. “And then you’re just– just gone, I don’t even know where, and I’m just– and he’s– and it’s like I’m back– back there, when he–”
“Okay, okay,” Yato shushes gently, tracing soothing patterns on Yukine’s arm. “You’re awake now, okay? It’s over.”
“No, it’s not!” There’s a frustration building behind his rib cage, and the darkness is creeping into his skin. He’s so full up of everything, and he just wants– he just wants– “I wish he would just leave me alone!”
The words hurt leaving his throat, and there’s water on his face, now, but he doesn’t know how long he’s taken to notice. His hands reach up to scrub at his face, and the blanket slides halfway off his shoulders.
“It’s been a-almost two years and he’s– he’s still in my– my head,” Yukine says quietly around tiny sobs. “Why wo– won’t he just leave me alone?”
Yato’s other arm comes to wrap around Yukine too, and he’s pulled to Yato’s chest.
“I know, kid. I know,” Yato mumbles against Yukine’s hair. His fingers are threading gently through the hair by Yukine’s ear, and Yukine can feel his ragged breath against his own fingers from where they’re pinned close to his face. “Just let it out.”
And he does. Hard. It’s almost difficult to breathe, like this, folded up and sobbing and hoarse, but he can feel Yato’s heart beating gently against his temple, and it makes things feel less big.
“Okay,” Yukine says quietly, when it’s mostly over and he has half a mind to be embarrassed that he’s practically in Yato’s lap. “I’m– I’m okay now.”
Yukine sits back up a bit, enough to give his arms the freedom to find his lap. One of Yato’s hands is still on the side of Yukine’s head. His eyes wander all over Yukine’s face. His thumb strokes against Yukine’s temple. He meets Yukine’s eyes.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
And his eyes are sad and heavy in ways Yukine understands very intimately and in ways that could not be more foreign to him. And he holds onto Yukine like there is nothing he wants more in the world than for him to be okay. And there are a million things Yukine wants to say.
“Shut up,” is what comes out, in a poor imitation of annoyance. “You’re here now, idiot.”
And Yato gives him that look, like Yukine’s said something he’s never considered before, and he smiles one of those smiles like the tiniest weight has been lifted from his chest.
“Even though you should be a work,” Yukine feels the need to add on, repeating, “idiot.”
And the smile loses some of its feeling to become bigger but no less real. “Ah, Kazuma owed me one anyway.”
Yukine hums. “Well… thanks. For coming home early.”
“Always, kid.” Yato says. He pats Yukine’s face softly, and his hand falls, and at this exact moment, the lights come back on.
“Ah, perfect timing!” Yato says cheerfully.
Yukine blinks against the brightness. The weather’s calmer outside now, too. He hadn’t noticed.
Yukine moves out of the way so Yato can stand. He begins blowing out the candles and gathering them up.
“Can we, um… Can we stay out here for a little while?” Yukine asks, as Yato juggles every candle in his arms.
Yato pauses for a moment, looking over Yukine with that piercing gaze again. “Yeah, of course.”
“Good,” Yukine says, shifting to face forward on the couch. “I was thinking we could watch tv, or something.”
“Ah, so you just wanna spend some quality time with your favorite person in the whole world?” Yato says in his annoyingly high teasing voice.
Yukine huffs. “What do you mean? Hiyori just left.”
“Yukineeeee!” Yato whines like he’s broken his heart.
“Just kidding,” Yukine says, smirking. “But, really, I don’t think Bishamon will let Suzuha out in this weather.”
“He thinks he’s so funny, being mean to me,” Yato pouts to something. Yukine assumes it’s the candles and laughs.
Once everything’s put away, Yato comes back to the couch and turns on the tv. He puts it on some stupid Capypa cartoon, but Yukine refrains from complaining.
“So…” Yato says after some time. “You don’t have these dreams often, do you?”
“No, not really,” Yukine says. He can tell Yato’s watching him, but he won’t look. “Only sometimes, and most of the time they… they end when you come in.”
“… What do you mean?”
“Just… I don’t know.” Yukine shrugs. “I guess a part of my brain just… knows that when you come in… it means the scary part is over.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Guess it didn’t get the memo this time,” Yato says stiffly.
Yukine scoffs, because of course Yato was stupid enough to take this the wrong way.
“No, stupid, it just means it knows how to freak me out.” Yukine rolls his eyes, mumbling, “If I have a dream about being lost, that just means I’m scared of being lost, not… not of home.”
He can feel Yato still boring those holes into the side of his head, and his face heats up. He didn’t mean to say it in quite so many words, but it is true. Yato means safety, so some part of his subconscious knows he can’t be part of the equation for a successful nightmare. Whatever.
“Oh,” Yato says again, dumbly.
“Shut up,” Yukine snips.
They sit in silence for a bit. Yukine can tell Yato’s getting all dumb and sappy and refuses to look at him.
“I’ll make sure to check from now on,” Yato says suddenly. “For storms, I mean.”
“I know,” Yukine says, anger that he doesn’t feel still in his voice to maintain some semblance of dignity. But he does. Know, that is. “You’re annoying like that.”
Yato hums but doesn’t reply. Yukine finally looks at him, and he was right. Dumb and sappy is exactly how he would describe his face right now.
“Yeah, I am,” Yato says after a beat, returning his gaze to the television. He fiddles with the volume until his cartoon goes off, then starts through the channels again.
Yukine’s eyes begin to feel heavy in the quiet, but he doesn’t want to go back to his room just yet. There’s a feeling still weighing against his chest, that the world is too small to contain both him and the man who almost killed him, and they’re not even on opposite sides of it.
He leans over against Yato’s side, and he can tell Yato tries very hard to pretend he hasn’t even noticed, but the anger’s gone, even the part of it that was mostly embarrassment, and Yukine just wants to feel safe.
“You going to sleep?” Yato asks softly.
Yukine grunts, which means yes, and he assumes Yato gets that.
“Goodnight,” Yato says, farther away this time. His arm’s around Yukine’s shoulders. He’s not sure when that happened.
Yukine hums again, but he barely feels it in his throat.
When he opens his eyes again, it’s morning, and he’s still on the couch. He’s laying down, and the blanket that was around his shoulders is laid across him. He doesn’t remember having any dreams.
Yukine sits up. Yato’s definitely in the kitchen, on the phone with someone, presumably Hiyori based on the fact that he sounds like a dumbass. Yukine suddenly remembers his own phone, somewhere in his bedroom. He pads down the hallway to find it, something that feels inexplicably easier now than it had last night.
He finds the device twisted up in his sheets. He’s got a bunch of unopened texts. One is from Hiyori in their group chat with Yato.
I was thinking we could all hang out later today, if you two want :)
Yukine rolls his eyes, because this is obviously why Yato was on the phone with her instead of just texting her back like a normal person.
The rest are from Suzuha.
dang, its really coming down out there
you doing okay? i know youre home alone tonight
this is a suspiciously early time to be asleep… 🤨
okay im gonna assume you went to bed and let you sleep but you better text me as sOON as you get these
Yukine hover his thumbs over the keyboard, feeing slightly guilty.
Sorry, don’t worry. Yato came home early last night
And he sent Hiyori to check on me because he’s obSessed, so she was here when I woke up
His response is almost immediate.
thats good, im glad
so the night wasnt too rough then?
Yukine pauses at the question. His response is interrupted by the door opening. Yato leans around it.
“Yukine!” He shouts cheerily. “Hiyori said she’d buy us breakfast! We’ll go whenever you’re ready.”
“Where are we going?” Yukine asks, already making his way to the dresser.
“Hiyori sent the address.” Yato holds up his phone as proof. “It’s supposed to serve everything, so my kid can have anything he wants!”
Yukine clicks his tongue. “You say that like you’re the one paying.”
“I’m sure Hiyori won’t mind,” Yato sing-songs, closing the door behind him.
Yukine laughs drily and looks back at his phone to check the address Hiyori sent. He finds Suzuha’s message again, and starts typing.
Nah, I think it turned out pretty okay
:)
Yukine smiles.
“Yukineeeeee! Hurry up, I’m hungry!”
Yukine sighs, rolls his eyes, and gets dressed.
Yato ushers him out the door as soon as he leaves his room. The ground is still damp from the storm, but the sun is out just like always.
They get breakfast.