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With a yawn that stretched his jaw and cracked somewhere behind the last wisdom tooth, Haiji stepped out of the bedroom and into the gold-dipped living room.
Scratching his belly, he wearily noticed the dust sparkling in the morning light and the forgotten cups from the night before – half drunk and cold. He would clean them later, probably, he too needed to soak them to get rid of the crust of old tea and senbei crumbles.
The evening had been late, but healthy. In more than one way.
Stepping into the kitchen, Haiji spotted what he had been looking for: Kakeru’s back. It was wearing clothes that certainly didn’t belong to Kakeru – but probably smelled like him by now – and moved back and forth as his husband was busy at the hotplate.
A heavenly smell was in the air, which Haiji inhaled deeply through his nose, and his smile grew wider as he stepped towards Kakeru and wrapped his arms around him from behind.
"O–oi, Wha–!"
Startled, Kakeru turned in his grip, but Haiji didn’t let go. He clung to his husband like a koala around a tree, waiting for breakfast, but much more engrossed in roaming his eyes over the reminder of last night that peeked out from under the collar of his t-shirt.
With vigour, Haiji got on his tiptoe and brushed his lips over a pale bruise, nibbling at it softly.
It had Kakeru sighing deeply and his writhing suddenly stopped.
"Ha–Haiji?" He swallowed thickly; Haiji knew fairly well when his husband tried to suppress a moan that dared to slip his throat.
Not bothering to answer, Haiji continued to leave moist kisses on marked skin, reminiscing the sounds and touches of the past night. There was a meal waiting for them on the hotplate, whether already done or in the progress of making, Haiji didn’t care, and he had his husband between his arms. Kakeru’s elbows, the muscles of his stomach, and sides quivered and twitched, and Haiji had no problems remembering how this body had moved beneath him.
On top of that, it was their day off. There was nothing on his mind that would explain the tension that made Kakeru’s muscles go rigid.
He frowned. He let go of warm skin and placed his chin on Kakeru’s shoulder.
"What’s wrong?"
"H–hm?"
"What’s wrong, Kakeru?"
"Nothing? Why?"
Haiji’s brow twitched, he could almost sense the attempt to stay not knowing. "You’re as tense as Yuki’s Kendou stick he showed us last weekend."
"That doesn’t make sense, you know?" Even Kakeru’s chuckle was nervous and tight.
"And you rarely cook," Haiji peeked over his shoulder, "pancakes with onion rings for breakfast. It looks tasty though."
"I have time, it’s our day off."
"Uh–huh."
There was a pause. Kakeru stirred the spatula below the savoury pancake while Haiji watched the dough get firmer.
"Did something happen?" he asked.
Hesitance was noticeable as it went through Kakeru’s whole body. Then he shrugged, but Haiji felt that he was about to spill.
And thus he urged, "So?"
"N–nothing big, just… some stress at work."
Haiji frowned deeper.
"Something happened at the hospital? You had the late shift yesterday," he added, almost as if talking to himself.
"Mhm."
Haiji told himself to be patient.
"Just…" Kakeru eventually proceeded, "a stressful shift."
"I see."
A moment passed, the pan sizzled and Kakeru seemed to have forgotten their breakfast.
"Stir," Haiji mumbled.
"Oh, mhm."
Kakeru jerked and stirred in the pan, all while shifting between Haiji’s arms, his muscles jumping smoothly.
Unsatisfied with the bare minimum of replies, Haiji bit his lip and glanced up at his husband. He wanted to help, yet he wanted to grant enough room for Kakeru to say something on his own, to find the right words to put his mind in ways that Haiji could work with.
As he went through the day before, remembering all the details of the evening ever since Kakeru had returned from work and stepped into the genkan, realisation slowly dawned on him.
"Kakeru…" He couldn’t help but sound suspicious.
Kakeru twitched. "…hm?"
"Last night…"
Haiji’s eyes trailed over marks and nibbles he had left merely a couple hours ago.
"That wasn’t… some sort of stress relief, was it?"
Again, a twitch. "N–not quite," Kakeru replied.
"Well, not that you never ask me after you had a late shift, but…"
"As if you don’t do that too," Kakeru interrupted him and Haiji could almost hear that familiar smile he was seeking, he was looking forward to having it on his lips again. He had to stay focused.
"But I always have a reason," he countered. He couldn’t help but pout in his defence.
Kakeru once more tensed up, but suddenly there was a sound he hadn’t reckoned with.
He chuckled.
"W–what?"
It turned into laughter, real, genuine laughter.
Utterly confused, Haiji stared at his husband. "What is it? It’s true!"
The bubbling sound, fresh and innocent, continued, even when Kakeru let go of the spatula to switch off the hotplate and turn around. And finally, Haiji could see his face properly.
There were laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, but they didn’t conceal the wrinkles of exhaustion he had not gotten rid of during the night. With a sigh – soft and gentle – he put his arms around Haiji’s shoulders. He was smiling, still, when he pulled Haiji into a hug.
Even more puzzled, Haiji blinked and stared at their breakfast. His hands found a grip on Kakeru’s back, fumbling aimlessly with the t-shirt.
"W–what? Kakeru? Are you alright?"
"Mhm," Kakeru mumbled into Haiji’s hair, "I’m fine, Haiji-san."
Moments passed, and despite his confusion, Haiji soaked up the warmth and familiarity of the embrace. He was glad to notice how Kakeru finally relaxed a little and tried to do so too, but his curiosity got the better of him. What was going on?
Fortunately, he didn’t need to wait long.
"Yesterday…" Kakeru said quietly, his face still hidden in brown hair, "I got the schedule mixed up and ended in the wrong room at the wrong time. The patient was very angry, they told me they were in pain and that they had waited long enough."
What happened then?" Haiji murmured and reached out to stroke his fingers through Kakeru’s hair and down his back.
"They left."
Haiji swallowed.
"I… I didn’t know the schedule had changed. I knew them, I wanted… to help them, but…"
"You weren’t given a chance," he finished the sentence for his husband.
Kakeru hummed in agreement, his grip tightened around Haiji.
"How did the schedule change?"
"They did that at the reception," Kakeru explained, "but no one told me about it. They changed it on the online schedule too, you know, they made an app recently. But I didn’t think of checking that."
"It’s not your fault," Haiji said, "Things like that can happen, you know that."
With a huff, Kakeru raised his shoulders in an odd attempt to shrug them. Haiji slowly let go of his husband, looked him in the eyes and cupped his head with both hands.
"Kakeru."
His husband’s brows twitched and returned that look with resistance. He was pouting, almost too cute.
"You didn’t do anything wrong, Kakeru. You wanted to help your patient. If the schedule changes without you knowing, you can’t help it. You were there."
"I was, but they ran off and–"
"So? They will come back. If they really were in pain, they will. And then you will explain yourself and you’ll be forgiven. And if they don’t, I already did."
Kakeru blinked.
Without any further explanation, Haiji pulled his husband forward to press his lips to his forehead.
"You’re fine, you’re too precious for angry patients anyway."
"I am?" Kakeru asked. He chuckled, but it sounded insecure.
"You sure are."
Haiji could clearly see how thoughts were running through Kakeru’s mind. His eyes, pure and glittering in the morning light, gazed thoughtfully at his husband.
"Shall we eat?" Haiji said, his lips twitching into a grin.
Blinking back to reality, Kakeru turned in his arms to look at the frying pan. He shrugged.
"You’re not hungry?" Haiji asked, "If you don’t eat, I will eat your share."
This got his attention right away. "No way!"
Laughter bubbled in Haiji’s throat; it died down as Kakeru smiled. It drew Haiji’s gaze on his lips. There it was, the familiar smile.
"C’mere," he mumbled.
Kakeru’s brows twitched, but he hummed and tilted his head to press their lips together. They were soft and warm, just like Haiji had imagined them to be, just like they always were. He savoured the feeling, the taste of salt and onion – Kakeru must’ve taste tested the dough before – and the scent of his husband.
"Let’s have breakfast," Haiji mumbled against Kakeru’s lips.
"Mhm. But you do the dishes."
"Fair enough."
Another smile breached Kakeru’s lips, the sun shimmered through the windows, and a bird chirped somewhere outside.
The day had begun and the ghosts of the past night were gone.