Work Text:
Something was off.
Leather soles clanked against the marble floors of his mansion, receiving none of the usual response to his I’m back. Whereas usually filled with the savory aroma of tonight’s dinner or the scent of paint from the artist he lives with, the air was void of home.
Chills ran down his spine. Rei discarded his briefcase to seek his lover in the darkness.
His echoing footsteps were his only companion in his quest. Shadows seemed more elongated, looming over the hallways without the guidance of the sun that always walked alongside him. His limbs were heavy from the day’s activities and his eyes were exhausted. Rei persisted either way.
The kitchen was unoccupied and Koga’s dirty clothes remained carelessly dumped on the poor chair in the corner of his room forever. The bathroom lights were off, but Rei still checked it.
Then, finally, he risked a trip to his atelier. After all, it was only floors above him. Rei tried not to think what would happen if he found it deserted.
Although the young man has earned enough credit for his work to not need his exclusive sponsorship anymore, Koga kept on using the workshop gifted to him by Rei. However, Rei was rarely permitted to pay a visit, unless there was an emergency.
And this was an emergency—Rei missed him terribly. His recent commission barely gave them time to interact past nods and grunts despite living in the same household. He yearned to hear his voice again, to see his face light up, to see his cheeks redden after a teasing remark.
Light seeped through the gaps of the closed door. Maybe there was hope, after all.
Rei knocked. “Oohata-kun?”
No response.
He tried again, “Oohata-kun~?”
When silence greeted him for the second time, Rei took it upon himself to enter without permission.
“Pardon my intrusion…,” Rei hummed, stepping foot into the brightly lit atelier.
As per his previous visits, lots and lots of unused brushes and squeezed paint tubes were still littered all around the floor. The once-blank walls were splashed with color, a few harsh strokes here and there in an attempt to form a figure. The art displayed around him was as messy as the habits of his dear artist, but Rei knew that what was plastered on the walls were mere snippets of the masterpieces he could produce.
Rei carefully maneuvered his way through Koga’s clutter. The young artist was on the floor, his head resting on an unfinished canvas with a painting knife in one hand. Upon a closer look, he discovered that his grey tuff of hair was dyed with the colors of sunset. About half of Koga’s face rested on the painting with no care in the world (Rei has no doubt that Koga would freak out the moment he had woken up and found out that he personally destroyed one of his works), lightly snoring the night away.
He let out a soft hum. While it was more proper to wake the sleeping artist, Rei chose to sit next to him, threading his fingers through soft, grey hair. He longed to feel the liveliness Koga radiated with, urging him to live his life to the fullest despite all the expectations piled up at him, but the view before him somehow had his heart fluttering with adoration already. Koga always seemed to have that effect on the old surgeon.
Cool air blew from the air conditioner. Rei draped his coat over Koga’s sleeping figure, keeping him warm.