Work Text:
"Wasn’t dinner amazing?" Akiyama asks Arai, as they stand in the train carriage headed back to Kamurocho waiting for their stop.
Arai smiles. "I wouldn’t expect anything else from a 3-star Michelin restaurant."
"True," Akiyama taps a bare finger to his own face. "I hope they don’t consider us regulars yet."
"Perhaps we should change it up for next time then." Arai points out. They’ve already been there twice in the last three months and for a restaurant of their calibre… that is frequent.
Akiyama laughs. "And miss out on annoying the maitre’d there? No way~"
Being able to chat so casually with Akiyama like this feels unreal to the point that, sometimes, Arai wonders whether he’s still dreaming — that the last petty fight he’d been dragged into while in prison has just knocked him into a coma and he’d never been released on parole at all.
The sight of the illuminated lights is familiar yet somehow nostalgic: despite Christmas still being a few weeks away, the city has already been blanketed in glowing lights on the streets throughout Tokyo. Soon, the train announcement declares their stop and it’s a couple flights of stairs before they’re outside on West Showa Street.
"I’ll just be one moment, go on ahead Akiyama-san." Arai quickly excuses himself to step to one side away from the traffic to look down Tenkaichi Street. Despite the touch ups made on it throughout the years, the big sign at the entrance also fills him with a sense of nostalgia.
He debates on whether taking a photo of it is too cheesy, even for him, when a hand grabs at his arm.
"Arai-san," Akiyama says. He runs his other hand through his hair. "You could’ve just dragged me over, I wouldn’t have minded wai—"
"Hello!" The two men have suddenly caught the eye of a tourist couple, who wave at them merrily and walk over to them.
"Would you like us to take your picture?" the lady kindly asks in English, and before Akiyama can refuse out of habit, Arai nods. "Isn't Japan lovely?"
"It really is," he says, his own English rusty and stilted, and wonders if he’s using the right words when he offers to return the favour. "I can take your picture too."
It’s definitely the right thing to say when the lady beams and holds out her hand for Arai to pass his phone over, holding our her own phone in her other hand. Picture taking is quick and Arai takes a couple extra in case any are blurry. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of smartphones yet.
When their phones are traded back to their rightful owners and both parties go their own ways, Arai can’t help but open his phone to look at their photo. Akiyama peers over and laughs, clapping Arai on the back.
"No wonder they thought we were tourists! Who else would be taking a photo with the Tenkaichi Street sign?"
They make it back home before the northerly winds from Hokkaido are forecast to roll in— Akiyama pulls off his jacket immediately as they make their way into their shared apartment, throwing it in the direction of the coat rack and toeing off his shoes roughly before walking over to plant himself onto the couch as the tan, thick woollen jacket hits the floor. Arai is slower to unwind: he lines up both of their shoes by the entryway, shaking out his partner’s jacket and hanging it up, takes off his gloves and scarf before removing his own coat to hang up alongside Akiyama’s jacket.
His hand strays toward his coat pocket to feel the small, box-shaped dead weight that has been burning a hole there for the last few weeks — Akiyama hasn't ever been exactly subtle on what he wants from their relationship, but sometimes Arai feels the other shoe will drop any moment.
The question was never whether or not Arai Hiroaki was going to propose to Akiyama Shun, only: when? Between the two of them, Akiyama was usually the one to show off with grandiose romantic gestures but Arai doesn’t want to emulate what Akiyama would do. If he stalls any further, it’d be too close to Christmas and Arai doesn’t want to spend the next year deliberating on it.
Trying to gather the confidence, Arai glances around the living room and notices Akiyama’s gramophone next to the couch, his own study books on the corner desk and a pile of cookbooks the two of them have yet to go through together on the coffee table. Their living room, he amends.
He takes the box out of his coat pocket and pockets it before walking over to Akiyama. Akiyama's face glows from the wine they'd been sharing tonight, his posture easy and relaxed as he slouches against the couch.
"Akiyama-san," Arai says, and suddenly he's aware he hasn't actually prepared any sort of speech. "I have something for you."
Caught mid-yawn, Akiyama blinks in surprise and sits up straighter. Arai gets on one knee, and holds the ring box in front of him, opening it to display a simple gold ring band.
"I’d like you to have this," Arai says, his head bowed.
Akiyama holds out his hand to accept the ring. Arai hopes his hands aren't as shaky as he's imagining them to be, as he slowly takes the ring from the box to slide it onto his partner’s hand.
"It’s simple, I like it." Akiyama then holds his hand out in front of him, inspecting the ring. He then looks at Arai expectantly. "What do you think?"
Arai can think of a lot of things to say to compliment Akiyama that will only embarrass him. Instead, he says, "I’m glad it matches your watch."
"I’m not sure I’m much of a ring guy," Akiyama says, twisting the ring around his finger before taking it off. He squints at it. "Would it be okay if I wore it around my neck?"
"Of course."
"Hmm, I’ll sleep on it first. Maybe I’ll get used to it— Hold on, I see something," Akiyama says, tilting the ring to catch the light so he can see the engraving inside it.
“Despite the legal system ultimately failing you, I chose the word justice1 because of your unwavering faith in humanity,” Arai hastily explains. The moment the words leave his mouth, his ears turn pink from embarrassment. “You’ve always believed in second chances.”
No matter how questionable Akiyama presented himself, Sky Finance’s existence was proof of that.
"Justice, huh… it’s oddly fitting," Akiyama’s smile is a little crooked, and his voice shakes a little at his next words. "You… you only went with the word to give me an out, didn't you?"
Arai nods, guiltily. Akiyama could easily pass it off the ring as a joke between him and Tanimura if he so wished. It had made sense at the time, but… this was a severe misstep.
"Arai-san," Akiyama says, frowning. "That’s not how this works."
"I know," Arai’s treading on hot water now, but he still feels like he owes Akiyama everything for his second chance. "Even if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll keep working for your forgiveness."
"Me? But there's nothing here for me to forgive," Akiyama says, and Arai’s confusion must've shown on his own face because Akiyama repeats himself. "Arai-san, I forgave you a long time ago."
"...When?" Arai asks, and his chest tightens as quickly remembers the look on Akiyama's face after he'd conceded defeat over ten years ago. He hadn't been able to decipher the meaning of his then-friend's expression back then, only that Akiyama had looked directly at him as he nodded in acknowledgement, his eyes soft yet clear and—
"Take a guess."
Arai reaches out to cup Akiyama's face and if Akiyama feels his hand shaking he doesn't comment, simply smiling softly while leaning into his touch. He hopes his own voice doesn’t waver. "Surely not since we fought on that rooftop over a decade ago?"
"That's exactly right," Akiyama says gently, the light flashes on his ring as he covers Arai’s hand on his face with his own. Despite his pink flush from dinner and the fact there are more wrinkles than Arai has ever remembered currently marring his face, there's no mistaking the sheer love and affection in Akiyama's gaze right now.
“Really?” Arai shakes his head, a laugh threatening to bubble up from his throat in disbelief. Was this what he was meant to see back then?
“Really," Akiyama affirms, then pauses. "Ah, don’t get me wrong here, I didn’t exactly wait around for you," Akiyama continues, a little sheepish. "I’m sure you’ve noticed some of my… quirks as a partner."
"Good," Arai breathes a sigh of relief. The thought of Akiyama keeping a flame for him wouldn’t have comforted him at all. "And you should know that really doesn’t matter to me."
"Oh?"
"Your past has made you into who you are today and… That’s the Akiyama-san I know and love."
To Arai’s surprise, Akiyama’s face suddenly turns serious. "…Arai-san."
"Yes?"
"Say that last bit again please." Akiyama says, grabbing their hands together.
"Akiyama-san, I love you." It’s freeing to say the words, but it slowly dawns on Arai that he’s never exactly said them directly to Akiyama before.
Akiyama suddenly hunches forward over their clasped hands, his shoulders shaking.
"Akiyama-san," Arai says softly. His hands are still captive, but he lifts them up to tilt Akiyama’s chin up. "You’re crying…"
"Whose fault is that?" Akiyama sniffs, letting go of Arai’s hands to wipe at his face. Arai quickly passes him a handkerchief. "To finally hear those words from you… I’m really happy."
"…I’m sorry to have kept you waiting."
Akiyama waves him off. "No no no, don’t be. You’ve shown your love in every way possible except verbal, really," he says, reassuringly. "I’m just a sap."
Akiyama laughs, but stops quickly after one look at Arai's solemn expression. He scoots forward on the couch, leaning forward to reach out to him and Arai allows himself to be herded into Akiyama's arms, burying his face into Akiyama’s shoulder. The scent of his cologne is soothing and familiar.
"It's funny, Arai-san. I also wanted to propose to you tonight." Akiyama admits. "Everything here has just reaffirmed my first thought, after we fought over the futon when you moved in, that I really want to spend the rest of my life with you."
"You're never going to let go of that one, huh." Arai says, sighing into Akiyama's silk black shirt.
"Absolutely not," Akiyama says, moving soothing circles on his back. "Just as I know you might tease me for this next bit."
"Never."
"Don’t say that yet, hang on. It’s my turn." Akiyama tugs at Arai’s arm to encourage him to get into the couch next to him and then pulls away momentarily, taking out a box about the size of a lighter from his suit jacket pocket and holding it open it front of him. Inside, a silver band ring glints in the warm apartment lighting. “This is for you.”
"Is this why you opted out from smoking after dinner?" Arai asks lightly as Akiyama slides it onto his finger. It’s a half size too big, but already he hates the thought of taking it off. "Thank you."
"I’ve always admired how driven and committed you were, even when it’d taken you down the wrong path," Akiyama looks at him. "Maybe it’s a little selfish of me, but I want to see you to find a new dream."
"A new dream, huh," Arai murmurs. Between his part-time contract work with a particular police department, volunteering with the Kamurocho Guard, and just being able to live as himself with Akiyama… perhaps he’s already found it. He pulls Akiyama close to wrap his arms around him. "I’ll try my best."
"Good! Aw, it’s a shame the ring’s a little loose on you," Akiyama says, fussing with the ring on Arai’s left hand. "We're fixing these."
Arai blinks. "Fixing?"
"Even if nobody else sees the engravings inside, I’d like them to ring true." he chuckles at his own joke. "Even if you don’t want to include our own names, can we at least add a date to these?"
Arai nods. He’s glad Akiyama understands his desire to keep things a little private, even if neither of their current lives are anywhere near as dangerous as they have been in the past.
"Ah, we've gotten ahead of ourselves here. C'mon, Arai-san," Akiyama's eyes glitter with promise. "I want to hear it properly from you."
His vision goes blurry as he finally says the words carried in his heart for a long time. “Akiyama-san, there's nothing more that I want than to grow old by your side. Will you marry me?"
"Of course!" Akiyama replies, and when the two of them share a kiss he laughs at the taste of salt.