Work Text:
A yawn escaped Scaramouche's mouth as he lazily stretched, trying to escape the sea of blankets he was surrounded by. What time was it? Scara could care less, he was alone in bed, the sun was shining on his face, and that was sign enough to let him know the gods had let him live another day.
It was another Monday, his partners were at work which meant another five days of spending up to nine hours alone- trying not to let the thoughts in his mind get to him.
After staring at the ceiling for a good ten minutes, to make sure he was, indeed, alive- Jingo made the bed and began his day.
'Scaramouche' was an old nickname he went by, people mostly call him ‘Scara’ now, he didn’t mind that much. He had his name legally changed to ‘Jingo’ only a few years ago, everyone was still getting used to it, even Jingo himself. Better than hearing Heizou go “Jin-Jin! Jin-Jin” whenever the redhead was trying to get his attention, as much as Jingo won’t admit that it makes his heart flutter.
Heizou and Kazuha carpooled with Beidou to work and were up at least two hours before Gorou headed off to work, himself. Most days, unless they were in a rush, Kazuha would leave breakfast plates for Gorou and himself. Jingo walked into the kitchen, not seeing anything left out on the counter or table. He opened the fridge and there he saw it, Jingo’s government-assigned colour-coded bowl covered with tinfoil on top.
Jingo made himself comfortable on the sofa in front of their television in the living room. He held the bowl of fruit and yoghurt Kazuha had left prepared for him. ‘He diced the strawberries and cubed the apple slices again…’ he thought as he held a spoonful up to his mouth, ‘...how does he even find the time?’
~
"Ugh, they always love it."
Jingo rolled his eyes at the trash reality television he had decided to focus on for the past hour or so as he ate breakfast. The empty bowl sat on the coffee table where he also had his legs propped up. He looked around the room, taking a deep breath before reluctantly getting up.
Rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he picked up the empty bowl and walked over to the kitchen sink. Like every Monday, it was time to give the entire apartment a good cleaning.
~
After a few hours, Jingo was back on the sofa, laying face down.
He threw the laundry in the wash, wiped down the kitchen counters, put away the dishes Gorou had washed before he left that morning, vacuumed all carpeted surfaces, swept all smooth surfaces, moped said smooth surfaces, folded laundry once it was done, gave the bathroom a good scrub and…just…everything! Everything he could do to make sure their living space was clean.
Jingo felt …exhausted. Even though this is what he did every Monday, and he hated it…he felt like he had to. Kazuha, Heizou, and Gorou…waking up so early every day and going to work without complaining [well, Heizou complains sometimes] while Jingo stays home, alone to his own devices. The least he can do is make sure dust does not accumulate in their home.
The record he had been playing as he cleaned finally came to a stop after a few minutes, making his head turn towards it as the record player in the corner of the room. It was something Gorou had apparently bought years ago when he overheard Kazuha and Heizou expressing their love for vinyl music. ‘Why do people still buy these?’ Jingo used to think ‘You can easily have access to whatever music you want with a touch of a button online.’
But now, as he stands up to change the vinyl, he feels a small sense of joy -though he can’t quite understand why. Something about physically being able to hold the vinyl disk, to adjust the needle, to flip it over to listen to another set of songs, he enjoys it.
There was another small thing that made him feel an unexplainable joy.
He kept it buried underneath his assigned clothes cabinet, a scrapbook.
Jingo brought it out to the living room to work on it on the coffee table as soft instrumental music echoed from the record player. He had bought this scrapbook on an impulsive whim when out and about. ‘I don’t know anything about scrapbooking, why the hell did I buy this?’
Yet now, nearly a year later, the scrapbook was 99% full, with only one blank page left. And that’s what he had brought it out to fill today.
~
Over the weekend, the quad went on a date to a bowling alley to celebrate their five-year anniversary a bit early. This would be the fifth anniversary of when Jingo joined the picture and so they went to a place he would enjoy.
It got competitive before they even arrived, especially between Jingo and Gorou. For nearly two hours, they partook in (semi) friendly competition and enjoyed their time together, as always. Jingo was a very good bowler, he said it was his “natural gift”, and he very much enjoyed his victory over the rest.
And now, he was glueing their score track sheet onto the last page of the scrapbook, along with a receipt for the ice cream parlour they went to afterwards and a cutout of a selfie they had taken. The positioning of the decorations was not very even, nor was his cutting that smooth, but he did his best. He did his best to keep feeling this feeling he couldn’t describe.
~
The scrapbook was once again secretly hidden away as Jingo now made himself some late lunch. Yes, of course he knew how to cook. His own mother couldn’t, what better way to one-up her than to become an absolute culinary chef? Of course, it was only for his internal ego, none of the others knew about this secret talent. To them, Scara was a safety hazard in the kitchen and it was best for them to make food for him.
Jingo would let them keep thinking that way for a bit longer, he thought, he would surprise them later, along with the scrapbook.
~
Jingo was lounging around when he heard the unexpected rattling of the front door. He stood up and turned towards it to see Heizou walk in. Jingo’s mind didn’t have time to communicate with his body as his feet raced towards the redhead and threw his arms around him.
“Ah, Jin-Jin!” Heizou cheered and hugged him back, “I’m home!”
The shorter man looked up to meet Heizou’s olive eyes, “Why are you home early?”
The detective grinned, “I managed to sneak away a few hours early, heh.”
“They’re going to fire you one of these days.”
Heizou chuckled, he threw his work bag over to the side and lifted Jingo up in his arms, “Ha! If that day comes, it will just mean that I get to spend more time alone with you, won’t it?”
Jingo did not even try to move away, simply resting his head on Heizou’s shoulder, grumbling under his breath.
~
Hours later, Gorou and Kazuha came home with some takeout for them to enjoy. Jingo sat at the end of the table as he watched Kazuha evenly distribute their portions while Heizou and Gorou talked about their work day. Music, still being heard from the living room.
Every Monday, just like this, with the ones he loves.
It took him a while to admit it, but Jingo truly does love them.
Scara hasn’t said it yet.
But Jingo will.
I mean, he filled up an entire scrapbook with their memories of the past year (out of five) together, that’s a good way to tell people you love them, right?