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As the clock strikes four in the afternoon, Chifuyu looks through the store’s picture windows and sighs, content. A white winter veil covers the city of Tokyo, snow falling languidly from the grey skies.
It’ll be cold, when he steps outside, and the fifteen-minute walk home won’t be as pleasant as it is in October. But Chifuyu, despite the low temperatures of the season, has always adored winter.
(Not just because of his name, despite what others may think.)
“Kazutora,” he catches the attention of his boyfriend, who’s currently wiping down a fish tank, seemingly talking with a hamster that rests nearby. “I’m signing off. Remember to make the final counting and leave the documents on the right drawer before leaving, okay?”
“Yes, Boss,” Kazutora replies, his natural flirty tilt accompanying it. After the years they’ve been together, maybe it shouldn’t affect Chifuyu like so, but there’s something about the narrowing of his eyes, about the crescent moon growing from the corners of his lips, the way he almost purrs the words; even if he knows it’s not deliberate, it still manages ignite a certain fire within him.
(He hopes there won’t be a day he’s indifferent to it.)
It’s astonishing how much Chifuyu wants to kiss the smile off his face. How much he’s tempted to drag him to the staff room and lock the door behind them, just by Kazutora existing.
“Please, do not make me come tomorrow morning to see if everything’s in order and done correctly.”
Still, priorities. He’s the manager―he can’t, as much as he’d like to, ignore his responsibilities and trap Kazutora between his thighs. If he does it once, both his boyfriends will take it as permission, and he doesn’t want Baji and Kazutora fooling around while on the job more than they already do.
(Plus, he would never live it down.)
“You won’t have to.”
It’s not that Chifuyu doesn’t want to believe Kazutora’s words, but years of experience contradict them with a strength he can’t deny. “Sure,” he starts, dry as the desert. “I’ll believe that the moment my useless employees stop leaving the tasks I give them for later.” It’s happened multiple times already, but he knows his tone is not as harsh as it should be.
(It’s a problem, Chifuyu’s found, to be eternally grateful for their presence. He can’t even get mad when he needs it. Not when he remembers what it was like to live without them.)
He raises an eyebrow as the man approaches him, sneaking an arm around his waist, clinging. He leans into the touch, either way, because it’s Kazutora and Chifuyu craves it, always, no matter the time or place.
“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Kazutora whispers, not wanting to raise his voice. His eyes look sincere, and Chifuyu wants to drown in that gold for as long as he’s able. “You won’t have to be in a rush tomorrow morning.”
It would be nice, and, in the end, he does trust in Kazutora. Maybe it’s the softness in him, the absolute devotion that builds up in his chest whenever he looks at him, at Baji and the life they share, but he cannot resist resting his forehead against Kazutora’s shoulder, his heart racing like he’s sixteen again, inexperienced and insecure about his place in their relationship.
“You’ll have to leave the food for the turtles. I did the rest, but you’ll have to do that. And make sure the hamsters got their cages clean, because it was Kei-san’s turn, but he left early, you know, because of that professor who’s always up his ass about the project―”
Kazutora rubs his back, gentle, as he thought years ago he couldn’t be. “Fuyu, listen to me, it’ll be alright,” he reassures him. “I can handle it. Go home and rest, okay? You left the to-do list on the counter. It’ll be done, I promise.”
Simultaneously, the words relax his muscles and make them tense again. Kazutora’s a damn right bastard when he wants to, and Chifuyu’s come to appreciate it, but whenever this side of him surfaces, soft and handling what’s in his hands with care, the younger thinks it might drown him.
His boyfriends’ have told him multiple times he reminds them of the ocean. If that held some sliver of truth, then Kazutora would be his land: a safe place he returns to, where he erodes, his rough edges shaping up as they collide, unable to ever separate; and Baji, he would be his sky: absolute, ever-encompassing, linked forever with him and Kazutora, in all the shades possible―be it sunset, be it cloudy, be it at night.
He would suffocate in Kazutora’s soil, fall from Baji’s endless horizon. Knows from a fact he’s done so, in multiple timelines, in every life he’s ever lived.
Maybe that’s why he can’t stand not having them happy. Why he allows them some time away from work, playing with the different animals; why he’s the most permissive when they’ve got smiles growing on their faces and why, in the end, he’s incapable of denying them anything if he knows it’ll make them happy.
“You better keep that promise,” he threatens, almost in a pout. He really doesn’t want to wake up early tomorrow morning. “Mum and Ryoko-san will be waiting for us. I won’t have the time.”
(Above all, though, he’s not about to let them know how sappy they make him. Again, he would never live it down.)
“I know, I know.” And, without warning, Kazutora kisses him on the cheek, tender yet daring. Almost seductive, the way he always is. “I’ll take care of it, Boss.”
And, ignoring all the times him and Baji have not done so, Chifuyu relents.
(He’s not about to admit hearing Kazutora call him Boss ignites something in him, either. Someday, maybe. Just not yet.)
“Kei-san isn’t here to make it worse, at least,” he mutters. Those two do nothing but fuel each other’s fire, and while that’s fine and dandy when it comes to fights (or their bedroom activities, Chifuyu enjoys them a lot, after all), it becomes rather troublesome if it involves cutting work or some of their other questionable―and very much illegal―schemes.
Detangling himself from the bi-coloured man, Chifuyu takes off his apron and starts to fold it. “You’re good to lock up alone?” It’s said with a certain gentleness, because Chifuyu, despite his grievances about their workplace habits, fusses and worries about his boyfriends like no other.
Kazutora appreciates it, though. “I am,” he reassures him. “I will see you at home.”
Taking care to see if anyone’s in direct line of sight with them, Chifuyu takes the opportunity and kisses him chastely on the lips, short and sweet. Kazutora’s a walking temptation: he should be rewarded for holding on for so long, really. Of course, just a kiss isn’t enough. As he tries to lean back, Kazutora’s grip tightens and he kisses him again, this time a bit more roughly, making him let out an embarrassing sound.
“Kazu―stop. Not the in the store.” Still, he makes no move to get away from his boyfriend’s embrace.
Part of him doesn’t want to stop. If it was up to Chifuyu, he’d live wrapped in Kazutora, never to part from him. He’d want to revel in his private smiles, in how pretty he becomes when his eyes sparkle, excited about one thing or the other. He’d want to never leave their bed in the mornings and bask in how the sun highlights the blond parts of his hair, enjoying the caresses he leaves on his skin, count once more the hundreds of freckles that mark up Kazutora and make of him a starry night. But anyone can come in and disrupt the moment, and Chifuyu’s responsible (has to be, what with the company he keeps, if he doesn’t want them all to crash and burn). He can’t let Kazutora work his tongue to the back of his throat, as much as he’d like to.
“Just one more?” He asks.
And, of course, Chifuyu yields. When doesn’t he?
So he slides their mouths together once more and, with all the tricks he’s learnt over the years, tries to make the most of it. I love you, he thinks, entranced by the sight of a slightly-breathless Kazutora. I love you.
He detangles himself, lingering in the touch they share until he’s not able to anymore. “See you at home, then.” He grabs his cloak and his battered scarf, made with love by his mother many years ago, and glances back at his boyfriend, who’s never once wavered in his stare.
Chifuyu gives him a smile, cheeks tainting red. It still gives him butterflies whenever his lovers appreciate him, whether it comes with lust behind it or not. He feels seen, desired; even though he’s far from the boy who couldn’t accept compliments for himself without making a mess.
Even if it doesn’t make sense, since they’ve been together for so long. He’s just―he’s incredibly weak when it comes to them. He feels his heart about to beat out of his chest. It’s all a little bit unfair, if he’s honest: how easy can they make him feel like one of those cheesy shoujo protagonists, cliché’d to the moon and back, about to be swept away by the dark mysterious leads who shower with love the fortunate enough to catch their eye.
But there’s nothing much he can do about it.
Since he’s in love with both of them.
The cold hits his face directly as he walks out the door. He adjusts his scarf as he leaves Peke-J Land behind, glancing around the streets. It’s not dark yet, but the clouds above don’t provide much clarity, and so the avenues are reflections of green, red, blue and purple hues, Christmas decorations hanging from all sides. They won’t put them out until the second week of January, even though festivities are almost over. The people leave footprints in the snow, which covers just enough of the streets for them to be noticeable, and a smile appears on his face as he passes by a park and watches kids making angels on the ground and building up snowmen.
Chifuyu’s favourite holiday has always been Christmas. As a child, he’d always hated how people change their tune when its time comes around, but he’d ignored it, because he’d enjoy the romantic movies and the hot chocolate and the ugly sweaters, as his friends liked to remind him.
To this day, that hasn’t changed.
(He’s loved Christmas this year. Celebrating the pet store, celebrating how far they’ve come, with their friends and with presents and many, many moments he keeps close to his heart. But, if he’s being honest, every celebration by Baji and Kazutora’s side will be loved, treasured beyond measure. Since they’re what makes him love them the most.)
He shivers and rubs his hands together, noting the red tint they’ve acquired in the past few minutes. It’s not long until he’s by their flat complex, not long until he’s greeted by Peke J and―if Baji’s not had a plan―his other boyfriend, who’s probably still drowning in a sea of endless textbooks and papers from university.
He’ll probably end up helping him. It’s not a chore, not for Chifuyu, but it’ll take his whole afternoon. He’ll have to make sure Peke J has food, although he knows Baji wouldn’t let him starve, and he’ll have to make something as a snack―because, otherwise, they’ll die of hunger before they can die via burial under all the subjects Baji has to study.
Then they’ll wait for Kazutora to come home, and Chifuyu will take the opportunity to cuddle with them for a while―maybe on the sofa under a blanket, or somewhere equally warm where he can relax―and they’ll watch one of those Christmas romance films with the same plot as any other, which Baji will lose interest for in the first five minutes, and which Kazutora will grumble about. But Chifuyu will adore it, to the point of crying when the main couple reunite after whatever the conflict’s about has been resolved, and his boyfriends will put up with it, because it makes Chifuyu happy, and that’s all that matters.
(He swallows a giggle when he thinks back on all the cliché’d, sappy films Baji and Kazutora have watched with him, even though neither are fans of the genre. Chifuyu enjoys it, that’s true, but he also rejoices in knowing how much they love him, and maybe that’s why he cannot give up their nights together watching From Me to You or Heavenly Forest, or, these days, Until the Lights Come Back, Tokyo Godfathers or Future Memories: Last Christmas. It’s about being spoiled, sometimes.)
He longs for the warmth of their kotatsu, but enjoys the snowflakes that melt on his skin, and doesn’t hurry home.
When Peke J lifts his head up and immediately after he jumps out of the sofa and walks towards the door, he knows Chifuyu’s about to enter their home. Keisuke knows the cat loves him, too, but it’s been years since he’s been greeted at the door by the feline, and the same goes for Kazutora.
Peke J’s getting old, after all, and although he still stirs up trouble as he continues to wander through the streets, nowadays he prefers to take multiple naps during the day and purr in the lap of whoever’s available. He only makes an exception for Chifuyu.
It’s understandable. It’s Chifuyu.
“I’m home,” he hears, and soon enough steps are approaching the living room.
His head hurts from hours of studying, but damned be the day his heart doesn’t lift the moment he sees Chifuyu. His cheeks are flushed, he assumes from the cold, and he’s carrying Peke J in his arms. “Welcome home,” Keisuke greets him back, a gentle smile perking up the edge of his lips. “Did you have a good day?”
Chifuyu’s smile could light up the whole damn sky. “I did,” he replies, kissing him chastely on the lips, giving in when Keisuke chases the feeling, not wanting to let go of it.
He hums. “I’m glad.”
Keisuke turns to look at the studying he still has left to do, and sighs. But one look at Chifuyu’s tender, perfect smile and he thinks, just a bit more and it’ll be over. The papers on his desk might give him headaches, but he’s sure Chifuyu’s magic: he’s been curing them since their middle school days with barely anything more than just a glance.
(Kazutora, on the other hand, gives him more headaches than any other thing. But that’s a lie. Because Keisuke’s freer than anybody else when Kazutora’s nearby.)
“Just keep it up, Kei-san,” Chifuyu cheers him on, sensing how his mood decreases. “I’ll help.”
And it’s always been like that, hasn’t it? Even though he swore he’d do better. That he wouldn’t worry him so much, that he would take responsibility for every action of his.
But he’s sure there’s not a reality where Chifuyu leaves him alone.
“Don’t be a dumbass,” Keisuke chastises him. “You’re bound to be tired from work. Take a break, damn it.”
His vocabulary isn’t the best, he knows, multiple times he’s been looked down at for being too vulgar in his words. But it’s Chifuyu. Even back then, when he couldn’t spell Kazutora’s name right, he was there.
It’s amazing, but then again, it’s Chifuyu.
His boyfriend huffs. “You could at least let me help you out, Kei-san. It’ll be annoying if you end up exploding because you don’t understand a topic.”
The audacity of this man.
“Chi-fu-yu,” he starts, half-jokingly seething. “You want me to beat you up, is that it?”
But upon his threat, Chifuyu just laughs. “Of course not. I just want to make sure we’ll have a table still standing come tomorrow.”
He’s such a little shit. Keisuke can’t believe he used to think he was an angel―can’t believe he’s still thinking it now, deep down in the confines of his mind. He can’t help it, not really. Chifuyu’s always been one of those guys who look pretty, even to the eyes of heterosexuals who are afraid of being seen as otherwise. What with his previously-bleached golden hair and his eternal emerald-aquamarine irises, which he never tries to describe because between all the colours that exist in the spectrum of green-blues, Keisuke knows he would never hit the exact one.
“Shut up,” he retorts. Creativity, ten out of ten. He still cannot comprehend how his barely-there words jump completely out of the window whenever he has Chifuyu’s face six centimetres away.
It was annoying back then, when he’d been nothing more than a runt. And it’s annoying now, years down the line, still at the beck and call―although he doesn’t like to admit it―of the one guy who looks at him like he’s the sun he orbits around.
He furrows his brows, catching Chifuyu’s ice-cold hands in his. “Go take a shower, you’re shivering,” he’s observed, never one to dismiss any change in his two boyfriends. Attentive the way he only tends to be with animals, with children. With what he’s been told, over and over again, to be careful with.
But Chifuyu and Kazutora are exceptions. To every rule he’s ever made for himself, to every rule he’s been made to abide.
Wherever those two are, he’s willing to follow.
“Temperatures drop around this time of the year, Kei-san. It’s normal,” Chifuyu stresses out, done with the not-so-subtle fussing. But, then, he drops a kiss onto his forehead. “But I will. Thank you for worrying.”
It’s about those moments. When Chifuyu says thank you, for something so mundane it shouldn’t even be thanked for. When Chifuyu tilts his head and goes: please?, and Keisuke isn’t able to deny him a thing.
He definitely knows, because Chifuyu always uses it when he wants something out of him, and yet, it doesn’t feel wrong. Because it’s Chifuyu asking, because he’s learnt, through the years, that there’s nothing he can do to make him lose face in this particular boyfriend’s eyes.
Kazutora, though. He likes to take advantage of it, the way he folds like wet paper the moment either of them plead anything of him, absolutely incapable of not following through the request. But he also likes to make demands, make Keisuke’s pride a target, inciting that competitive game they’re so fond of.
The contrast between them makes it all better. Makes it sweeter, makes him want to give in and melt in that puddle of gooey feelings that build up whenever he thinks about them too deeply, too introspectively.
He loves them both.
That is the foundation of Baji Keisuke’s universe.
Sighing, because he’s spent the last few minutes besotted with just the thought of his boyfriends, he returns to the papers hanging in the desk. It’s about time he gets back to studying.
“Oh?” He mutters, as Peke J jumps into his lap, walking a few full turns before settling down in his thighs. As he gently pets his head, he gets rewarded by his purrs, and everything that makes him―flesh, blood and bones―seem to melt. He lets himself, knowing cats are one of the weaknesses he can afford to show off without reprisal. “You decided to give me some company, I see.”
He turns back to the essays and the texts he has to study for his subjects and tries very hard not to groan. Just a bit more.
He focuses, and lets himself forget everything else. He needs to finish this today, or he won’t ever catch up with the rest of the class. University might be kicking his ass, but he thinks about the future, about being able to help all those animals, and knows he, at the very least, has to try.
For the sake of his dream, to live the life Takemichi and Mikey fought for.
He focuses and immerses himself into the medical texts. Time passes, but he can’t quit, and Peke J’s soft snores calm him down when he feels like throwing away all of his work.
Keisuke only comes back to reality when a steaming mug lands in front of him. He glances upwards, and finds Chifuyu, with his bangs tied up and dressed in pyjamas, a large sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is Kazutora’s hanging off him. He’s a sight to behold―like always. It’s just―
Chifuyu always looks so cosy on winter afternoons. So domestic, so at home in the flat they share, it fills up Keisuke’s heart. He cannot be blamed for how fast his heart is racing. Even if he finds it ridiculous that it still does so after many years together.
His boyfriend smiles at him, removing his glasses. “You’ll get steam on them,” he explains, rather unnecessarily―Keisuke would let Chifuyu do whatever he wants with him, everywhere and everywhen. “I made hot chocolate.”
His stomach comes back to life as it roars, and his eyes lay on the plate full of ladyfinger biscuits. “When did you buy this?” Because he doesn’t remember seeing them in the pantry.
“Today on the way home,” he answers. “I remembered we still had some of the chocolate powder your mum gave us, and I know you enjoy it a lot, so I bought a box to share.”
He does. He enjoys hot chocolate the most with the dry pastries as accompaniment. He adores the moments in the coldest season when he gets to share it with his loved ones. With his mum, throughout all their winters; with the Sano’s growing up; with the Toman founders, as he left childhood behind; and with Kazutora and Chifuyu, as an adult learning how to deal with it, trying his best and letting the sweet taste of it comfort him in the long, dark hours of it.
“Thanks, Chifuyu,” he smiles, grateful. He and Kazutora, they both get overwhelmed, sometimes, by how much their boyfriend cares. How much he shows it. “Let’s split this, too.”
A faint red settles in Chifuyu’s cheeks. It’s adorable. His face is more angular, now that he doesn’t have any baby fat, but his cheeks―somehow, his cheeks have kept that roundness, marshmallow cheeks, and he wants to bite them.
As Chifuyu grabs a chair and sits by his side, putting some of his papers aside, he does so. Because he can, and because he’s never been good at keeping in check his impulses.
“Wha―Kei-san?” Chifuyu says, cheeks redder than before. “What was that for?” It’s a whisper, more talking to himself than a genuine question, but Keisuke hears it either way, since he’s so close to the other.
“You’re too cute, ‘Fuyu.” His grin is mischievous as it grows in the corners of his mouth, lopsided. “It makes me wanna eat you up.”
Keisuke watches as his boyfriend becomes a strawberry, red from the roots of his hair down to his neck. Agh, too much. He’s too adorable. Like when Peke J finds himself annoyed, Chifuyu’s nose scrunches and he turns his head away, trying not to look at Keisuke in the eyes.
“Shameless,” Chifuyu pouts.
Maybe he shouldn’t find it so funny. But it’s the happiness of being with Chifuyu. “What was that?” He asks, chuckling.
“You’re shameless, Kei-san.”
He hums. Sneaking a hand under his sweatshirt, caressing the soft skin beneath―moisturized with that body cream with vanilla scent he likes so much―he allows himself to smirk, mirth shining in his eyes. “But you love that, don’t you?” And he squeezes right after, tender, satisfaction building up as Chifuyu tries to suppress a shiver because of it.
He pulls him closer, their faces just a few centimetres apart. Like this, all of his world is reduced to Chifuyu. To the arms that go up around his neck, inviting him gently to fall into him; to how their breaths start to intertwine, noses rubbing together in a tenderness Keisuke only finds in the quietest of the moments; to his desire to kiss him senseless, to fuse their bodies together and live in Chifuyu’s embrace for the rest of his days.
“Can I?” He mutters against his lips, entranced.
Just as low, as if not wanting to interrupt the moment, Chifuyu replies: “Of course.”
And that’s all he needs. Leaning forwards, he connects their lips. The first one is chaste, a slow peck that Keisuke savours every second of. Immediately after, he leaves the second, the third, the fourth. A fifth one that he deepens, tongue demanding entrance. The adrenaline he’s always been so fond of makes its return in Keisuke’s body: Chifuyu’s sighs that disappear into Keisuke’s mouth, his hands tightening and wrapping themselves in his hair. It’s liquid fire in his veins.
He moves towards his neck, a trail of open-mouthed kisses through his chin, low, lower, reaching up that part that always leaves his boyfriend gasping. Grazing it with his teeth, teasing just before going for the kill.
Yet, before that can happen―
“Meow.”
Stunned into silence, both Keisuke and Chifuyu shift their focus onto the cat that’s now pawing at Chifuyu’s chest, meowing. When they―more like, Chifuyu―don’t react, he does it again. And again. Until Chifuyu’s chuckling, letting Peke J into his lap and creating distance between him and Keisuke.
He pets the black cat’s head, makes a show of it being ruefully, and he sighs. “Ah, you damned cat. You want Chifuyu all to yourself, don’t you?”
Chifuyu coughs to hide the blush that’s returning to his cheeks―or that maybe never left. “C’mon, you still have to study, right? Let’s get to it before the chocolate gets cold.”
Keisuke smiles and before righting himself in his chair, he leaves a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He turns around, careful not to distance himself from Chifuyu, wanting to still be as close to him as possible. He’s allowed to, after all. He knows how to take advantage of his privilege.
Before turning his focus back to his textbooks, he grabs a ladyfinger, dips it into the steaming cup, and eats half of it. He dips it again and offers it to Chifuyu, who grabs it with a smile that could put the sun out of a job with how bright it is.
And so the hours start to pass by, with hot chocolate on the table and, as it’s become a habit since their middle school days, Chifuyu helping him with his studies, Peke J purring in his lap.
For all that it’s snowing outside, inside their home―and, as cheesy as it sounds, inside Keisuke’s heart―all he feels is warmth.
Kazutora sighs as he leaves the pet store clean and with the to-do list finished. He can’t blame Chifuyu for his scepticism, though, since him and Baji have skipped work one too many times.
He wonders how they got Chifuyu to like them in the first place.
Still, he did good. He’s trying to, these days: ever since Chifuyu started thinking seriously about expanding the business, his stress lines got worse. It’s as worrying as it’s comforting, how hard he works for their sake.
Chifuyu pours love into all he finds worth it, relentlessly, endlessly; as if he couldn’t run out of it, an infinity of it laying at his fingertips. He gives and gives, just like Baji, and Kazutora basks in their warmth at every chance he gets.
“You’re closed already?” A voice shatters his thoughts, and he turns around to come face to face with one of those old ladies that are always trying to set Chifuyu up with their granddaughters.
It’s rather funny, even if annoying when they insist too much on it. “Good evening, Tanaka-san,” he greets her. “Yes, we’re closed. We’ll be back in three business days. Did you need anything with urgency?”
Never did his fifteen-year-old self imagine he would be speaking in polite speech to anyone. Joys of being an adult.
“Oh, no, dear,” she answers. “Mimi-chan is getting low on treats, but it should be fine.”
“I see,” Kazutora nods, his earring twinkling. He sees the bags in her hands, weighty, and internally rolls his eyes. “Will you be returning home, now? I’ll help.”
“Oh, are you sure? Don’t you have better things to do, young as you are?”
Kazutora wants to tell her yes, I do, but Tanaka’s house isn’t far from theirs, on the way to it, really, and Chifuyu would help her. Plus, it’s good for business to have good relations with our clients, Kei-san, please stop glaring―
(He’s heard the speech way too many times. Chifuyu really needs a break.)
“It’s not a problem.” He takes her bags―she went grocery shopping, from the looks of it―and tries to make conversation. He’s not the best at it, but she always shows them pictures of Mimi, the cat she’d adopted from Peke-J Land, whenever she comes around, and Kazutora appreciates it. He’d got attached, back when the ball of fur was just a stray kitten in Baji’s room. “These are a lot, were you shopping for New Years?”
Tanaka smiles, motherly. “Indeed. The whole family is coming! I’m looking forward to it.” She looks happy talking about it. “What about you, dear? Are Matsuno-kun and Baji-kun celebrating with you?”
Although very few people know of the romantic tones of their relationship, most of those who have become regulars acknowledge they’re very good friends. They work together, and live together, and most of them don’t bat an eye, because they’re young and because the thought of the three of them being together doesn’t even cross their minds.
“We’re heading to Shibuya tomorrow to spend it with our friends and family,” he answers, even though all the family they’re going to see are Chifuyu and Baji’s mothers. His own―well, they reunite a couple of times a year, but it doesn’t seem like this New Year’s will be one of them. “We’ll visit a temple and do our best to watch the sunrise together,” he says, a smile overtaking his face. I can’t wait for it.
“What a great start to welcome a new year into your lives,” Tanaka comments. She does so genuinely, and Kazutora feels himself lighter, the thought of what’s to come filled with hope and happiness. “We’ll try to do the same, but my eldest granddaughter is pregnant, you know?” She asks, a glint in her eyes that speaks of joy. “I might live to see a great-granddaughter!”
“Congratulations.”
Kazutora can’t imagine being as old as she is, pushing her eighty’s, and still be as lively and healthy. Can’t imagine having a great-granddaughter.
Their talk digresses into the topics of Tanaka’s family, her encounter with an old friend at the pool, and how rowdy New Years is going to get.
“It wasn’t like that when I was young, you know?”
It continues like that all the way to her house, and Kazutora doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but Tanaka isn’t that bad, really. He prefers leaving the elderly to Chifuyu, who’s great at dodging private questions and invitations to omiai, and focus on charming middle-aged women and chatting with university students, who are all swayed by his pretty face.
“Have a good day, Tanaka-san,” he waves her goodbye. “And Happy New Years!”
“Happy New Years, dear. Let’s pray for another year of luck, happiness and health. And take care on your way home! You never know what could be lurking around the alleys, these days.”
Finally, he thinks, exhausted from the full day at work. He wants to get to their flat and cuddle between his boyfriends while Peke J naps on the side. He adjusts the scarf Chifuyu insists he wears, a gift from Mitsuya because the man couldn’t accept his superior fashion sense (read: that one scarf from the second-hand store with leopard print), and hurries home.
It isn’t far, thankfully. The cold filters through his clothes, and while he knows winter is Chifuyu’s favourite season, it definitely isn’t his. Baji’s isn’t, either, because both of them are the type that get cold the moment temperatures drop from 18ºC.
(He still remembers all the snowball fights and trips to the ocean in the middle of their adolescence, dying for a kotatsu or a cup of coffee so that his body ceases trembling. He remembers doing it for them, for his friends, for Chifuyu’s smile, exchanging glances with Baji about it, both of them terribly done with the cold and yet putting up with it, helpless in front of Chifuyu’s pleading eyes.)
“I’m home,” he announces the moment he closes the door behind him. As he’d expected, Baji’s and Chifuyu’s shoes are on the entrance, and he can listen to their muttering from here.
As he doesn’t hear an answer, he hangs up his cloak and scarf and heads to the living room.
He takes in the scene, heart seeming to melt. Baji and Chifuyu are on the dining desk, studying, heads close together, trapped in their own world. Kazutora could watch them for the rest of his life and be content with it, if that’s all they wanted from him.
But it isn’t.
Somehow, they both want him. Love him. Adore him, in all the ways they know how. Kazutora took his time accepting it, but neither Baji nor Chifuyu ever gave up on him. And he’s so, so grateful for it.
“I’m surprised you guys aren’t in the kotatsu,” he interrupts them, smiling when both their heads snap up in his direction. “How’s the studying going?”
“Kazutora,” Baji’s voice isn’t the loudest when he’s surprised. “When did you―”
Chifuyu interrupts him, joy blossoming in his face as he takes him in. “Welcome home.”
Kazutora approaches them, tired and languid, seeking out their touch. He places his hand on Chifuyu’s cheek and kisses him, soft and slow. He doesn’t manage to kiss him just the once, he never does.
By the time he leans back, he turns his head to see Baji grinning at them. “Welcome home, bastard.” And that’s it, before his hand shoots up, reaches his neck, and leads him down to a tender kiss that doesn’t match his words.
Once that’s done, he pets Peke J, who purrs loudly at it, and focuses back on his boyfriends.
“We’re about to finish, actually,” Chifuyu answers his previous question, before shooting one of his own. “How was the rest of the day? Any problems?”
Kazutora shakes his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. All the tasks are done, all the documents piled up and on the right drawer, and all the pets have their meals to survive the next couple of days without us.” He assures him, pride in his chest as he sees Chifuyu’s shoulders relax, as if a weight had been lifted.
“Thank you, Kazutora.”
He might not be the greatest poet of all time, but he thinks he could write thousands of haiku trying to get right how it feels when Chifuyu smiles. How incredible it is when his love becomes so palpable, when he can see how tenderly he settles his heart in Kazutora’s roughed-up hands.
“I promised, didn’t I?” He huffs, not wanting to dwell on how much he loves his sunshine of a boyfriend, lest he becomes a puddle of goo on the floor. “Tanaka-san came by as I was closing, though. Apparently, Mimi’s close to finish her bag of treats.”
“That cat’s the most spoiled in the whole world,” Baji snorts, ignoring completely the thousands of times they’ve caught him feeding Peke J outside his schedule.
Kazutora raises an eyebrow and Chifuyu looks at him in deadpan―because he never learnt how to raise just one eyebrow, and raising both feels ridiculous―and Baji shifts his eyes to the side, avoiding their scepticism.
“I told her we’d be back soon, and since she had with her two whole bags full of groceries, I ended up chatting with her about New Years. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been,” he admits, continuing the story. “At least it wasn’t Yamada-san.”
All three of them shiver at the name. That old lady flirts with them. And not as a joke.
“Maybe we should ban her, or something,” Baji mutters, still remembering the last interaction he’d had with the woman. “She tried to grab my chest. I’m pretty sure that’s harassment.”
Chifuyu sighs. “We can’t unless she actually does something, and not just insinuates to.” He frowns, half-way pissed off. “Pervy old lady.”
Kazutora snorts at the assessment, finding it rings with the truth. “I’m going to shower. Good luck with―” he takes a second to try and guess what subject of Baji’s is it, but no luck. “―whatever that is.”
“Thanks,” Baji says, sounding as depressed as he was the day he found out he couldn’t speak to cats back in sixth grade. He adjusts his glasses and that’s when Kazutora notices the two mugs with rests of chocolate and the empty plate.
“You guys had hot chocolate without me? Betrayal.”
Baji laughs at his fake-wounded tone, and Chifuyu rolls his eyes, accustomed to his antics. “You don’t even like hot chocolate.”
“I would if I drank it from your lips.”
The blush that rises up from the flirty line almost cracks him up, torn between laughing and allowing all the mushy feelings piling up in his chest to overcome him.
“Go shower already, stupid.” It’s too adorable, the way Chifuyu still flusters around them.
Baji laughs and kisses Chifuyu’s cheek, and Kazutora, this time, doesn’t stop the giggles that bubble up.
He leaves them to finish studying, has a bath and soaks in the hot water as much as he can. Chifuyu always complains about how he’s going to burn his own skin one day, the water temperature too heated up for him.
He relaxes, not thinking much about anything. Just how he likes it. Leaving him alone with his thoughts is not as dangerous as it was in his teenage years, and he’s learnt to find a different comfort in solitude than when he was a child. Back then, it meant no one could hurt him. Alone, he was safe. He doesn’t need it, now. Not when he has Baji and Chifuyu by his side. He still enjoys it, of course―but it’s not the same, and he’s glad for it.
By the time he’s done with his routine, the clock strikes nine in the evening. He’s getting hungry, and he’s sure his two boyfriends are, too.
Going back to the living room, Kazutora finds them chatting about one thing or the other while playing around with Peke J.
“Are you guys hungry? What’s today’s plan for dinner?”
Baji grins and stands up, walking towards him until he’s wrapped both arms around his waist and has his nose nuzzling up his neck. Kazutora smiles, returning the hug, before looking at Chifuyu in askance. Clearly, Baji’s reached his limit of coherent thoughts for the day.
“I don’t have any energy left to cook,” Chifuyu replies. “Take out?”
Kazutora doesn’t want to cook, and, either way, it’s not like they have something in the pantry that isn’t instant noodles. “Sounds good. Pizza? Or maybe a Chinese? There’s that one Keisuke likes around the corner.”
Baji makes a sound of agreement, and so it’s decided. He leaves Chifuyu to do the phone call, grateful that between the three of them there’s one that can do them and not be immediately redirected to the local police (even if it only happened once, no one’s going to let Baji live that down), and searches Baji’s gaze with his.
Tender, he kisses his cheek. His nose. His lips, then. They’re roughly the same height, Kazutora finally―finally―taller than him by a couple of centimetres, and it makes it easy, to line up and press their mouths together.
He pulls Baji towards the sofa, directing them so that they can sit down and rest. It’s not that difficult, carrying with a deadweight boyfriend, not when he’s had so much practice.
“Are you okay? Did studying leave your brain more fried than it already is?” Kazutora teases, even though he cannot keep the underline worry from his voice. Baji’s trying so hard with university, it amazes him. Because Baji repeated his first year of middle school and still managed to overcome that and gain entry into the career he’s wanted for a long time.
Baji mutters something incomprehensible while punching his side, making him laugh. Chifuyu appears and sits on his other side, leaning onto him.
“I ordered our usual. That fine by you two?”
Baji nods, hand reaching out to link his and Chifuyu’s together, just on top of Kazutora’s lap.
“Gay.”
The laughter that echoes from both his sides fills his heart with such love it feels like it’s spilling out. It has to be the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. He can’t imagine otherwise.
“Shut up,” Chifuyu manages to say in between laughs. Baji’s still cackling, almost breathless. “Since it’s my turn to decide the film, just for that, we’re watching The Birdcage.”
“Isn’t it always your turn?” Kazutora replies, at the same time Baji goes: “Again?”
Chifuyu pouts. “You’re lucky it isn’t Love, Actually this time.”
Kazutora considers lucky the fact that, at the very least, it isn’t Mamma Mia or Midnight Sun, because at this point, he knows even the dialogue of those damned films.
As his boyfriends continue to bicker, Peke J appears on the floor beside the sofa and jumps straight to Chifuyu’s legs. Automatically, Chifuyu starts to pet him with the only hand he has free, the other still trapped by Baji.
Their small family all together.
Kazutora wonders what kind of good deeds he did in another life to deserve this. Knowing himself, probably not many. But Baji and Chifuyu have made it clear they want him by their side, no matter what. And, as years pass, it’s a truth that’s become engraved in his soul.
Intertwined to the point he makes their bed in the mornings and eats Chifuyu’s earnest cooked breakfast, laughs at Baji’s bedhead and ignores his own, that’s the only way he wants to live.
Rejoicing in the happiness that resides in the everyday gestures they share for the rest of his days.