Chapter Text
summer, 2014.
it's an easy thing to fall in love, and inupi gives him every reason to.
summertime meant that the cool air of the night left by morning, and the blankets would be tossed aside as limbs stretched beyond the edge of the bed. even the pillow cases were thin, scattered and fallen on the floor. it should annoy koko at seven in the morning, but he can't bring himself to care.
not when inupi's sleepy face is the first thing he sees. cheek squished on a pillow, lying on his chest as his arms resting under him. bare back exposed, relaxed and gently rising with every breath. messy, messy, bedhead hair sticking out in every direction yet somehow framing his face. eyelashes fluttering softly as it catches koko's eyes. lean muscles shifted to reach out to koko, fingers caressing his cheek with a sleepy smile that makes him want to kiss him.
"morning."
"morning."
koko brushes away his blond hair, fingers trailing down his scar to his lips. and he doesn't resist the temptation anymore.
it's slow, and light, and nice. he smiles lazily into the kiss, letting out small sounds of content and bliss when inupi leans into him, cradling the back of his head as he hovers over him. they stay there, inch to inch, just breathing it all in. koko craned his neck as inupi pressed into him, letting out a high-pitched whine as if he were sensitive to everything. maybe he is.
they part, grinning like idiots as the sweet after-sensation settles in and they realize how in love they really are, cheeks flushed and glowing in the morning light. they take each other in.
"you’re making breakfast, aren’t you?”
“i’d make it for you either way.”
“you are unbearably nice to me today,” koko mutters against his flushed skin, peppering small kisses on his collarbone, hands trailing up and down his back.
inupi only laughs before cupping his face in both hands and tilting his chin up so he can properly kiss him again. and koko lights up, hands reaching out to his, always pulling him back in for another, and another, and another, and oh wow, does he love kissing him . inupi had to guide koko’s head back to the pillow, brushing his hair aside before parting. “you’re on laundry duty today.”
and he gets up and leaves, leaving koko incredibly miserable. irrevocably distraught. helplessly torn asunder.
“you’re an unfair man!” he shouts at the blond, who only dismisses him with a wave of his hand. and a charismatic smirk on his face. and a devilish wink as he walks to the kitchen, where the sunlight illuminates the cluttered room. koko follows him after lazily rearranging the pillows, not blushing at all.
“you’re lucky i like what you make.” koko says as he prepares the table mats and plates on the table.
“you’re sure you just like it?” inupi teases as he prepares the toast and avocado. “i don’t think it’s all that great, so maybe you can have your leftover and burnt toast for breakfast.”
“i’ll have you for breakfast!” he could barely run away when koko tackles him, holding him tight by the waist. their laughter echoes in the seven o’clock morning. inupi catches them as he feels his legs hit the counter, koko in front of him, grinning like a madman. and he might as well consider him to be one, with the way his eyes shone with adoration before trailing down his bare chest. he whistles shamelessly.
“still want me for breakfast?” koko hums, wrapping his arms around his neck as inupi holds on to his waist.
“i wouldn’t mind that. i think…” he places taunting kisses everywhere except his lips, giggling at inupi trying to catch him. “...i would like that.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
the toaster goes off, and inupi chuckles at koko’s little jump. “you just want to skip laundry day.”
koko grumbles, but he can’t do anything when inupi steals a chaste kiss from him, walking to the toaster. “i already hung up the last of our clothes, you can take them down in the afternoon.”
the blond hands him a plate and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, and koko knows he can’t say no to him. he knew he would have to bring the clothes in before dinner, so he should do his other chores first while inupi goes to get groceries as they planned.
koko had to clean up the scattered slushie cups on the floor. he remembered buying a blue one, while inupi chose red. they didn’t get drunk, at least he didn’t think anyone can get drunk on slushies, but he remembered having a brain freeze that time. he shouldn’t have to question why his tongue was purple, it was clear that the two had shared drinks to compare with each other so they can decide which had a superior taste. and it ended up in a makeout session anyway. his coffee is much warmer than the slushies.
then he’ll have to pick up the mahjong pieces. it was clear that he wasn’t skilled in gambling, but he could say that last night was as good as it gets. he can’t win at betting, but he can win at cheating, and it left inupi playfully tackling him at the end of the game. his strategy is relatively simple: if koko needs to pick up a piece, he’ll just surge forward and kiss inupi so goddamn senseless that he doesn’t see him switch the pieces. at that point, he considers himself winning until the blond decides that he might as well lose, which resulted in another makeout session. at least he could easily scarf down his toast.
he supposes he could get the karaoke machine back to its proper place. they had it out the previous night, singing to their hearts' desire and as loud as they wanted. it ranged from song to song. sometimes they’d hit the high notes and be surprised at that. other times they won’t even try and mumble the rest. their favorite would be either disney songs or duets. they’d end up sneaking glances at the other, pretending not to notice or attempting to be subtle, but they know that they’re dedicating it to the other. it’s when they know what it means when people say that love songs become about them. they’d be lost in the song that when they look at each other, they feel a magnetic pull and it’s so right to have him in his arms. of course, they’d make out again, background music feeling either in place or out of it. eating and drinking the last of his breakfast helped get his singing voice back.
inupi had to leave sometime before lunch, meaning that koko had dishes to do as the blond showered. he is grateful they didn’t have to use any utensils, he barely understood spoons, especially when he had half a mind to think. he supposes that’s the easy part. the hard part is watching him go.
if he were lucky, he’d stall inupi right by the doorframe and they’d stay inside, relax by the bathtub, rewatch those feel-good shows that inupi loves so much. and he tempts him in every way he knows how.
“i’ll make dinner tonight.”
“i’m already getting takeout.”
“then i’ll clean the house.”
“we had our spring cleaning a few weeks ago.”
koko groaned, slumping his body against inupi’s. he feels him shake as he hears him laugh above him. inupi’s hand caresses koko’s black locks, soft and gentle in every way. “i’ll be home soon, so i can help out with the last of the laundry.”
koko peeks through his eyelashes before further nuzzling his nose in the crook of his neck.
“i’ll fold our pajamas and you can put the rest on the hanger.”
“mm.”
“then i can put the rest in the washing machine and you’ll get the dryer.”
“mm.”
“koko?”
“mm?” he lifts his head up, inupi immediately caressing his cheek. he looks at him with such adoration that he feels like he could cry, and he doesn’t dare to look away, because inupi looked so damn pretty like this. so damn pretty with his gentle and captivating eyes, soft smile, soft lips, soft…
“we can do our taxes another time.”
“thank god.” haha, he thought he was going to say that he loves him, or even lean in for a kiss. he pretends to not sulk and brushed it off just as quick, hands on his chest as he attempts to part but not really. “don’t get any more than five thousand worth of food, and don’t just get the instant noodles, and make sure the expiration date is—”
inupi presses himself closer, placing a kiss on his forehead that seemed to instantly shut him up. “whatever you say, clever boy.”
he really liked it when he calls him that.
when inupi departs, he waves with a childish grin as koko decides what he should do first.
if he could do laundry, he should probably start with the shirt he was wearing. the shirt that was not his in the first place. the shirt that is broader than he was and is currently hanging by his shoulders and is a faded color of pink. inupi’s favorite color. or maybe it used to be red. he should make sure that the whites didn’t get mixed with the colored shirts.
it's summer, which means they can spend their afternoons outside and hope that a breeze passes by. their summerhouse windows are open, curtains swaying gently as sunlight peered into the rooms. there's no sound inside, only a gentle crackle of leaves carried by the wind singing its song.
the house isn't that big, but koko wouldn't give that up for anything. at first, inupi wasn't sure. koko was more than willing to give up that life for him, and for the longest time, he wondered if he was worth it. he wasn't any sort of perfect, he was just inupi.
but koko reassured him, again and again. the city lights of neon beneath his feet can't compare to the golden glow of sunlight scattered by the outline of leaves on the trees on their couch. the chill in the air that sent shivers down his spine isn't the soothing calmness that the ocean breeze gives him. the thrill of a dangerous life, looking for adrenaline is easy to let go for a tranquil one.
by the ocean side, where trees covered the sun's heat on their porch, and the quiet noise of their new life, feels more like home than anything he could buy.
the heat wasn't hard to ignore. they had the ceiling fan spin above them, not too fast nor too slow. koko nagged about coasters on their wooden coffee table they assembled for three hours because the ice-cold drinks made a mess. inupi complied under the condition they get bean bags.
he always made pink lemonade, but koko didn't know the difference. but the store had a buy-one-take-one deal and now they have another colored lemonade drink. he still doesn't know how blue lemonade was different from pink, but he doesn't say anything, not when inupi enjoyed it so much. so maybe he can believe that there's something special in lemonade.
their water is usually infused, but that's only because they bought too many oranges and cucumbers. there's a reason why they don't do online shopping for groceries. apparently, when someone says that in a bundle, there are two packs, it means that in each pack, there are more than two oranges and cucumbers. so when the delivery guy shows up to their door carrying six bundles, they had over thirty oranges and cucumbers to supply their infused water for a month.
it’s past three in the afternoon, he really should be starting to get the laundry.
outside, the clothes hung under the sun, flowing and swaying with the gentle breeze. koko supposes he was lucky it didn’t fall, setting his laundry basket down to remove some of the pieces. one white shirt, koko’s favorite on inupi, got stained with brown, maybe from soy sauce for the sushi they had last week. he clicks his tongue, knowing that he’ll have to remove it himself. he sees a pink shirt, one that inupi wore a lot at home. except it wasn’t supposed to be pink.
he couldn’t be mad at inupi for mixing the clothes together, because he knows he’d do the same. he laughs it off, knowing that now, he has a bit of leverage over him. he patted the pants to see if they were dry and promptly took them down, being careful in placing it in the basket.
he squeezed out some of the damp clothes, a few droplets dripping onto the grass. he put space in between each before moving to the next one, hoping that some air would pass by to dry the rest. by now, his pile reached over a quarter full.
he folds the bed sheets, being careful not to let it touch the semi-wet grass. part of it smells like inupi’s cologne, a small smile forming on his face when he remembers the scent. he reaches for the pillowcases, waving it around to even it out before tossing it in the basket. he was somewhat grateful for it being summer, knowing that it’ll be harder to get it done during the winter. he clears out the line.
then he sees it. the shirt inupi likes so much. he likes it on koko, a bit longer, with slits on either side reaching his hips. he used to say how he didn’t care what shorts he wore because the shirt is too good on him. it fell to his shoulders, so they had it custom fit to tighten the end of the sleeve so it stopped at the wrist. the tailor had it tightened a bit more near his chest, revealing only a bit of his toned body. he loved the way inupi had his eyes on him the first time he brought it to one of their dates. he was possessive the whole time which made koko’s heart race. he can never forget the intensity over the restaurant table, his elbows propped up and innocently smiling as if he doesn’t know what he was doing. that dumbass.
he picks up the next best thing, in inupi’s opinion. he had been generous to give koko one that was more fitting, except this one was backless, exposing a fair amount of his back. he remembered how inupi would slip in and tease him easier this way, tracing patterns across his skin, pretending that he didn’t like it. he’d be happy to know that while it was a creamy white, it hadn’t been stained by anything. he should surprise inupi with it when he gets home.
he finds one of his suits, purple designs on red with a matching vest and pants. he searches for the shirt and tie when he remembers that it would be a different color. he gets the last two before making a beeline for inupi’s matching clothes. purple looked too damn good on inupi, that it’s almost a crime. he remembered how loud his heart beat in his ear seeing him wear the suit. it was at one of his friends’ parties, but god was his attention on him the whole time. he places that in the basket too.
his face heats up at one of the shirts… or was it swimwear? he doesn’t recall when he bought it, but the dark design of a short-sleeved turtleneck would’ve rung a bell. below the chest, a see-through fabric outlined just above his stomach, where it remained exposed. the matching shorts would be too short by now, slits separating farther than it used to, the thigh garter reaching higher than before. oh hell yeah, was he about to do something about it.
it was summer. he excitedly tossed that into the basket, covering it up with one of the bedsheets in case inupi came by.
he patted down the next few coats, fur and linen alike, making sure that none of them were wet. he passed by their nightly robes, some silk, some fluffy. he carefully placed them in the basket, making sure that it wouldn't spill over and fall. he rolled up the silk stockings that inupi occasionally wore with his heeled boots. he made a mental reminder of where it was and ensured that each other sock had a pair. a row of hats, ranging from beanies to berets were among the last that he can fit into one basket. he hoists it up to his waist, holding it by the side and balancing himself out.
he's going back inside to get the second basket when inupi's face appears over a pile of other laundry. "boo.”
koko sticks his tongue out, as if it was to be expected. he wanders back inside, inupi trailing behind him. “you could’ve at least looked scared.”
“you could’ve tried to scare me too. i guess we’re both disappointed.” he hears the blond chuckle behind him, knowing he was close behind.
“and another thing.” he turns around, holding one of the stained clothes that were still damp and tossed it to inupi’s basket. part of it fell on his head, making it seem as if he were peeking out from under the pile. “you could’ve done the laundry right.”
“i know, i know.”
“i don’t care how many rounds of detergent you need because we can buy enough for a month.”
“i know, i know.”
“and if there were any stains, you could’ve removed them before hanging them up.”
“i know, i know.”
“and—” his blue eyes held no malice nor disinterest. he was looking at him, with gentle adoration and innocent love, and koko knew he was smiling behind the clothes. he looked so soft, so fragile, and he swears his heart beat unnecessarily fast at the sight. he let out a breath, returning that same look of revered devotion and sincerity. “—i love you.”
blue eyes slightly widened before softening, shining brighter than the afternoon sun, beaming at koko. “i know.”
“dinner?”
“i got us some tempura.”
“hmm, can we get sushi tomorrow?”
“i think i can make us some. can you heat up the rice while i finish up here?”
“sure thing, doll.” koko knows inupi’s ears turn red. he opens the sliding door to separate the clothes they can put in the hangers and those that they can fold. he glances at inupi’s figure, movement slowing down to watch him.
he carefully adds space between each damp piece, hair and shirt swaying with the wind. he hears him hum an old song, an absent-minded smile on his face, and koko thinks how beautiful it is. his movements are graceful and poised, paying attention to every little detail.
koko was an observant man. he had to be before, in making sure that his business stayed afloat. he knows inupi wore a faded white shirt over some shorts when he took a trip to the grocery because it was hot. the reason why he remembers that is not just because he thought he looked good in that, it was because the one he was wearing right now didn’t resemble that. did inupi change?
surely he must know what it does to koko. that plain white shirt loose on his shoulders and exposing his black tank top underneath, with that flowy pajama pants to match. hair tied in a half ponytail, strands of hair sticking out. he looked like an angel, doing laundry.
koko stopped moving when the thought crossed his mind. he really does look good in white. he looks perfect.
inupi glances at him when he’s done putting up the last of the damp clothes. he catches him staring and grins at him, waving wildly at the man who seemed stuck, not folding anything. koko likes it when he was like that. carefree and relaxed around him, and he knows he’s at peace. he smiles back, sending a small wave his way as he walks closer.
“don’t think i don’t see you stealing my pajamas.” inupi jokes as he yanks the one from koko’s hands to fold. the two agreed that when folding, inupi is better in every way.
“it’s mine too, isn’t it?”
“not when it’s too big for you.”
“not my fault you—” koko takes a second to process his next words, not wanting it to come off the wrong way and give inupi more material to tease him with. “—like baggy clothes.”
“then get your own.”
“dumbass, it wouldn’t smell like you.”
“what do i smell like, clever boy?”
“you smell like jasmine… and vanilla.” his voice turns soft as he blushes lightly, looking away. he knows when inupi is looking at him, and he knows that if he looks at him, he’d combust on the spot. it’s embarrassing how quickly he came to a conclusion, opting to focus on the clothes. the clothes he needed to put in the closet.
he hears inupi giggle softly. “you’re a dork.”
they don’t say anything after that, they just look at each other and smile knowing that they’re more idiots in love. their sweet expression didn’t leave, standing in silence and basking in each other’s presence.
koko looks back at inupi, wearing a soft gaze and white, folding their clothes.
like a bride.