Work Text:
It was the middle of January, and your third anniversary with Mitsuya was coming up next week. You already had your gift to him planned out. It was a small scrapbook of the two of you over the past three years, and it was finally full of pictures, love notes, movie stubs, and doodles of everything you had done together.
English class was almost over, and you had been spacing out for most of the lecture. Ever since you started college last September, you had realized how lucky you were that Mitsuya and you both got accepted to the same university. Going back to your dorm and seeing Mitsuya every day was a blessing in disguise. Not exactly in disguise, since you recognized that it was a luxury most people didn’t have; but you still felt like you didn’t tell him enough about how much he meant to you.
A bell signaled the end of the lecture, and you quickly shoved your pens back inside your pencil pouch and stuffed your notebook in your bag. Standing up, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and wandered out of the lecture hall. English was your last and only class of the day, and since it was Friday, you were glad to finally have a break from your busy schedule. Usually, you had Home Ec. Club or Art Club after classes, but those met on different days of the week. And you had already worked out before English started, so you didn’t need to go to the gym either. It was just homework and smooth sailing for the rest of the day.
Exiting the classroom, you stuck your earbuds in, preparing yourself for the 20-minute walk back to your dorm, and then quite literally barreled face-first into a person standing directly in front of you in the hallway. Stepping back, apologizing profusely, you finally glanced up at who it was and immediately released a breath of relief.
“Mitsuya…” You groaned, playfully punching his chest.
“Y/n.”
“Why are you standing there?”
“Why aren’t you watching where you’re going?” he quipped back, ever the snarky one.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting someone to just be standing there.”
“Expect the unexpected, dear.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Do you need something? Aren’t you supposed to be in class right now?”
“Well, the class got canceled because my professor is sick, so I thought I’d come and pick you up.”
“Please tell me you haven’t been out here waiting for me the whole time.”
“No, I was watching you through the window,” he assured. “Of course not, dear; I went to a cafe, I’m not that creepy.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good, I suppose.”
“Ok, let’s go.” He says, grabbing your hand and walking down the hall.
“Go where?”
“Shopping!” he exclaimed.
You tightened your hand around his. He knows you too well.
“Really? I love shopping.”
“Yes, our anniversary is next week. This is part of my gift to you.”
“Well, what are we getting?”
“Couple sweatshirts, of course.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s adorable!”
“Shut up,” Mitsuya said, pointedly looking in a different direction. You could only assume that he was blushing.
“Can we get food too? I’m hungry…”
“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Mitsuya muttered, digging through his tote bag. “Here, I got you something at the cafe.”
“You did?” You said, looking up at him with big puppy eyes.
“Yes, here, take it.” He said, handing you a bag with the mystery item inside.
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much! You’re the best.”
“Ehm…no problem.” He mumbled, looking the other way again.
“You got me a turnover!?” You cried, overjoyed.
“Yes, silly. I know they’re your favorite.” He said, smiling and ruffling your hair as you chowed down on the pastry.
“Phank-oo.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
You swallowed your bite. “Sorry, I’m just too excited. You even got the right jam flavor too.”
“It’s always the small things for you, isn’t it,” Mitsuya said, putting an arm around your shoulder and kissing your hair.
“I’m a girl of simple desires.” You responded, smiling up at him. He chuckled, ruffling your hair again. “Hey, stop doing that! You’ll mess up my hair.”
“No, your hair is too soft.” Mitsuya retorted.
You glared at him over your precious turnover.
“Hmph. When are we going to get where we’re going?”
“In like five minutes,” He replied, checking the maps on his phone.
“Ok.” You crumpled the empty pastry bag and stuck it in your backpack, slipping your hand back into Mitsuya’s.
“How was your English class?”
“Boring as usual. I’m so glad this is the last English credit I need.”
“Mhmm. What classes do you have tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is Saturday, baby. We don’t have any classes,” you remind him.
“Wonderful!”
“Why’s that?”
“I want to have an “us” day.” He responded, kissing the back of your hand.
“Hmm, that would be nice. But I have homework to do.”
“Like what?”
“Well, there’s an essay due for English soon, and I have to finish that canvas painting.”
“You still haven’t finished that?!” He sounded aghast. Both you and Mitsuya were in the same painting class, but he was significantly ahead of you in terms of assignments.
“In my defense, I’ve tried to work on it, but you always come into our art room and dramatically explain how I need to come and cuddle with you, or you’d die or something like that.”
“Well, it’s true. I would have died.”
“...That is not what you were supposed to take away from that,” you sigh.
“What was I supposed to understand?”
“That--ach, it’s not even worth trying to explain it to you.”
“Why not?”
“Because--maybe if you--just--” You didn’t know why, but you were suddenly quite flustered.
“Just what?” You could tell he was grinning now.
“I don't even know anymore.”
“Suit yourself, but we’re here now.”
In front of you stood a store that was seemingly dedicated to loungewear. You were in awe. Loungewear was your favorite clothing style, and you had no idea there was a store dedicated to them on your campus.
“Can we go in?” you asked, inching toward the doors like an antsy preschooler.
“Yeah, let’s go! Hopefully, they have what I’m looking for.”
“Well, what are you looking for?”
“I’m honestly not sure, but I’ll know when I find it,” he said confidently.
“What if you don’t?”
“I guess I’d have to make it instead. Honestly, this trip is mainly for you. I don’t have high hopes that I’ll find anything for us.”
“Ok, well, I always need more hoodies and sweatpants, so I’ll see you in there, you said, entering the store before Mitsuya could react.
Being inside the store was like being in paradise. There were so many different styles of sweatshirts, hoodies, sweaters, and sweatpants you could barely comprehend what you were seeing.
But you had been searching high and low for lavender sweatpants, and you sincerely hoped this store would have them. After looking around for several minutes, your search proved successful. At the back of the store, you found a shelf covered in purple sweatpants. After digging through the piles for several minutes to find your size in the shade you wanted, you finally had the pair of sweatpants you had wanted for so long.
Now you just had to go and find Mitsuya to check out. You finally located him on the other side of the store, looking at a rack of hoodies.
“Hey.” You said, walking up behind him and wrapping your free arm around his waist.
“Hey…” He responded, looking down at you.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“I’m not sure. Do any of these look good to you?”
“Well, I’m not sure my fashion sense compared to yours is trash, but I think they look fine--”
“Yeah, I don’t like them either. None of them are giving…” he trailed off, gesturing at the air with his hands.
“Were you listening to anything I just said?”
“Hmm?” He said, apparently just realizing you were standing next to him. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Who did you think it was?”
“I dunno. I thought you were a little figment of my thinking process.”
“That’s honestly kinda offensive…”
“Sorry, sorry. Did you find what you wanted?”
“Yes! I’ve been looking for this kind of sweatpants for so long.”
“Hmm, lavender is a good choice,” he said, nodding with approval, and you grinned proudly.
“I know, right? It reminds me of your eyes--”
“It’ll compliment your hair color.” He mused, absent-mindedly picking up a strand of your hair.
“Mitsuya, are you ok?”
“Yes, why?”
“I think I’m just remembering why I normally choose not to go shopping with you…”
“Why, what did I do?”
“Nothing, nothing, let’s check out and go,” you said.
“Ok, sounds good.”
Whenever Mitsuya entered a store, especially a clothing store, he went into something akin to a trance. It was always incredibly hard to get him to pay attention to anything.
You got the pants paid for and stuffed them into your backpack after shooing Mitsuya away from carrying them for you. Getting back to your dorm was also a relatively pleasant affair. Most of your campus had excellent landscaping and greenery, so walking around was lovely.
“...Babe?” you began.
“What?”
“So, um, if you didn’t get a sweatshirt at the store, what’re you gonna do instead?”
“I’m going to make us something, silly,” he chuckled as if you really were the craziest person he’d ever met. I think I have some leftover sweater fabric at the dorm.”
“Really? That’s great.”
“You think so?”
“Of course, I love wearing everything you make me. I’m wearing a skirt you made earlier this year right now!” You did a little twirl just to show it off.
“Fair, fair. It looks wonderful on you, by the way.”
“Oh, why thank you…” You smiled, blushing. Mitsuya grinned back at you.
Presently you made it to the walkway leading up to your dorm building. You weren’t sure why you decided to look at Mitsuya just then, but you could tell he had been intently staring at you for the past several seconds. Slowly turning your head, you gazed up at him, and sure enough, he was staring at you, grinning with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Baby. Mitsuya. No. Don’t do this to me! I have a backpack.”
If possible, his grin grew larger.
“Please, no.”
“...I’m sorry…but I can’t not.”
“Pleaseeeeee,” You whined in a last-ditch effort to get him to stop. He appeared to contemplate your request for several seconds, but apparently, your plea fell on deaf ears. Just as you thought he had finally conceded to not run, he dropped your hand and bolted to the dorm building.
“LaSt OnE tO tHe DoRm CoOkS dInNeR!” He called over his shoulder. You already knew it was going to be you. But regardless of how stupid you looked running with a backpack, you raced after him with some vague hope you might be able to run up the stairs faster than him. Once you got inside the building, you saw him running around the corner to the stairs. You tore after him, hoping he either lost stamina on the stairs or tripped and fell.
Luck was on your side. As soon as you got around the corner to the stairs, he looked back at you, seemingly surprised at your speed, and tripped on the next stair. You took this excellent opportunity to bound up the stairs, skipping every other one to gain momentum.
“Y/nnnn! That’s not fair.” He groaned from the bottom set of stairs.
“You were the one who a), started this game and b), decided to trip. I hate to be mean, but that’s an L on your part.” You called from the top of the staircase, grinning.
“Heeeyyyy! I mean, that’s a fair point. But still .”
“Sorry, man, see you in the dorm. You’re cooking tonight.” You could hear him curse under his breath.
“ Fuck, I shouldn’t have made that the terms. ”
“What was that? Having regrets?”
“No, shut up!”
You scrambled the rest of the way up the stairs and into your dorm, trying your best to sit down at your desk and look as busy as possible so that you could rub it in more when Mitsuya got there last.
***
Several seconds later, Mitsuya plodded through the door, looking slightly off-put.
“What happened to you?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow. He scowled back at you, flopping on the bed opposite you.
“You know what happened… prick.” He mumbled
“Ach! Me? I didn’t do anything to you.”
“Oh, shut up.” He replied, loudly huffing. You turned back in your seat and began shuffling papers around, preparing to work. And apparently, Mitsuya was also quite skilled at the art of silent movement because several seconds later he leaned over your head, staring creepily into your eyes. You could only assume it was an attempt to scare you. To your dismay, his attempt worked, and you shot back in your chair and yelped, pushing his face out of your own.
“Why are you so creepy?”
“What do you mean creepy?” He pouted, sounding offended.
“Ugh, you know what, never mind.”
“What color do you want the sweatshirts?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I need more neutrals in my closet…Maybe a dark ochre?”
“I probably have ochre wool sitting around somewhere. I’ll go and dig around in my cloth stash and see what I have…” Mitsuya muttered, shuffling over to his side of the room and rifling through several bins of fabric. “Aha! Found it. C’mere and let me take your measurements.” He exclaimed, waving a hand absentmindedly at you, beckoning you over.
You heaved yourself out of your chair and walked over to him, burying your head in his back.
“How long is this going to take?” You asked, your voice muffled in his shirt.
“Not too long,” He replied, grabbing a measuring tape. “I only have to take measurements for your top half.” Mitsuya shifted, tugging you in front of him and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I promise, ok?”
“Oookkkk.” You responded, resting your chin on his chest and smiling up at him.
“Can you stand up straight, please?” He asked, chastely kissing your forehead.
“I supposseeee.” You said, straightening.
Mitsuya did indeed work quickly, wrapping and unwrapping the tape around your arms, chest, and waist in a methodical fashion indicating his expertise. He made small notes on a scrap piece of paper he somehow procured from a pocket, muttering to himself from time to time.
“Are you done yet?”
“You are so impatient… Yes, I’m done.”
“Great, 'cause I got work to do.” You said, scampering back to your desk.
“I thought you said you didn’t have work.” He mused, turning to you.
“Well, it’s not a lot of work, but there’s still work to be done.”
“You sound very British when you say that.”
“I think that’s just you.”
“Maybe, maybe…” He said, pulling out his cutting board and scissors.
You pulled out your computer from your backpack and, shoving your glasses on your face, got to work on your essay. Music was also a must-have, so you plugged your earbuds in, blasting your favorite song. Writing was one of your favorite things to do, even though your English class tended to be incredibly bland. You were currently in the middle of a creative writing unit, and creative writing was your strong suit, so writing this particular assignment was going to be fun.
***
It was only when you recognized that the whirring noise you had been hearing for the past five songs was in fact not your earbuds malfunctioning, but Mitsuya’s sewing machine, that you remembered to look over at what he was doing.
Upon turning around and peering at his side of the room, you realized you had been writing so long he had just finished the first sweatshirt. You turned back to your writing document and discovered you had written twice as much as you had initially hoped to when you got started. Closing your laptop and rolling your earbuds back up, you stood up and took a big stretch, groaning. Sitting for long periods always took its toll on your muscles.
You strode over to where Mitsuya was sitting, kissing the top of his head.
“How’s it going?”
“Pretty good. Did you finish whatever work you needed to do?”
“Yeah…how long ago did it get dark out?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t been paying attention to time.”
“What time is it?” You asked, resting your arms on the back of his chair.
“I’ll check since you’re so curious…” He grumbled, grabbing his phone off the far side of the desk.
“Thaaank yoouuu.”
“It’s 6:19.”
“Hmm, I see.”
“That’s a very nonchalant answer for someone who was incessant on knowing the time.” You could hear the barely-masked smile in his voice.
“I was not incessant .”
“You were.”
You ruffled his hair in mock anger. “Was not . …Can I sit with you while you work?” You asked, scooting around beside his chair.
“Of course, dear. As long as your head doesn’t get in the way.” He murmured in response, pulling you into his lap and nestling you between his arms.
“I always love watching you sew.”
“I know you do.” He replied, setting his head on your shoulder.
Settling into the fonds of Mitsuya’s sweater you watched as his hands moved the fabric around, sure of their every move. His foot pressed against the pedal, occasionally pushing against your leg as the sewing progress.
After watching Mitsuya sew for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only about 15 minutes, you realized you were slowly nodding off. His perpetual body heat and the steady hum of the sewing machine had inadvertently lulled you into a state of pre-sleep.
You twisted around in his lap, tucking your feet around the back legs of the chair.
“Hi.” Mitsuya smiled at you, inclining his face towards you. You grinned back, holding both sides of his face and leaning in the rest of the way to softly kiss him. Pulling back, you gave him a lazy smile and inclined your head to kiss him again, sending a wave of warmth down your spine.
“Hi.” You murmured against his lips, drawing back again.
“You look sleepy,” Mitsuya said softly, looking into your eyes.
“I am sleepy.” You mumbled in response.
“You should go to bed and sleep.”
“No,” you said, vigorously shaking your head. “I wanna sleep right here.”
“Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”
“Of course not. You’re the most comfortable thing ever.”
“Ok then.” He chuckled. “Don’t you want a blanket though?”
“I suppose…But I don’t want to move.”
“That’s ok, I can get one for you.”
“You would do that?” You asked, looking at him longingly.
“Of course! Anything for you.” Mitsuya replied, kissing your forehead. He stood, picking you up with him, and walked over to the two beds you had pushed together against one wall to save space. Grabbing a blanket and situating you both back on his chair, he wrapped it around your shoulders, kissing your hair again. “Sweet dreams…”
“Mhmm.” You nestled your head into his shoulder and wrapped your hands around his waist, sticking them under his sweater.
***
You never really realized when it was that you fell asleep, but you woke up after what you assumed was several hours curled up in a blanket on your bed. Lifting your head slightly, you looked to Mitsuya’s desk and realized he wasn’t there, and your glasses were on the desk. You hopped out of bed, trailing the blanket behind you, and grabbed a pair of pajamas from a dresser drawer. Stripping your clothes off, you shoved one of your legs into a pair of shorts before being interrupted by someone clearing their throat from the other side of the room. You whirled around only to find Mitsuya staring at you, half-naked, with a look of surprised amusement.
“Avert your eyes, pervert! Why are you just standing there?! I thought you were in the bathroom!”
“I’ve been here the whole time. Was really debating on whether I should’ve revealed my presence or not.”
“You definitely should have. Close your eyes!”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.” He mused, taking a long slurp of what you assumed was tea.
“Ok, that was a completely different situation!” You cried, heat rising to your face faster than you would have liked to admit. Shoving your other leg in the shorts and a shirt over your head you stalked over to Mitsuya. “You,” you said, poking his chest, “Are too much of a pervert for your own good.”
Mitsuya choked on his tea. “Really?”
You rolled your eyes in response. “Yes, really.”
“Well, I finished our sweaters.”
“You did?”
“Yes, I just said that I did.”
You rolled your eyes again.
“Ok, well can I see them?”
“Of course.” He replied, walking over to the top of his dresser and picking up a bundle of dark yellow wool. Mitsuya took his own sweater off, flinging it on the bed, and pulled a yellow one on. “Here, come over to the mirror so you can see yourself.” He said, motioning for you to come closer to him.
“Ugh, ok.” You shuffled over to the mirror standing in front of him.
“Raise your arms up.”
“Oh right.” You giggled, holding your arms over your head as he slipped the soft wool over your head.
“Ok turn around…” He said, placing his hands on your hips and pivoting you to face the mirror. “Do you like it?” Mitsuya asked, a little too close to your ear. “I made it oversized how you like it, for some strange reason.”
“I do like it. We look good together.” You said, raising your hands, pleasantly surprised to see that the sleeves fell to the perfect spot below your fingers. “It’s very comfy.”
“You look breathtaking.” He breathed... “You are breathtaking.”
“Stop it, it’s just a sweater.”
He wrapped his arms around your waist and you could have sworn you heard him mumble something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Wear it… next time…”
You stared at him blankly. “No, I don’t want it to get dirty. And it would be too hot anyways.”
“Why not though?”
“I just explained why not .”
“But it would be so hot.”
“Yes, I already-- Mitsuya! I said no.”
“You can’t blame me. I already have a hard enough time containing myself when you wear the things I make you.”
“Then why do you keep making me things?”
“I have to let other guys know you’re taken one way or another,” he shrugged.
“I don’t think they can distinguish that you make my clothes.”
“Well, I can work with hickeys but you always complain--”
“You can stop there, go make dinner.”
“Will you help me?” He asked, looking at you with puppy eyes.
“Maybe. I suppose I could. Since I just happen to be in a good mood because you made me a sweater.” You smiled, kissing his cheek.
“Is that all I get?”
You chuckled. “You are so needy.” But regardless, you still turned around in his arms, hooking a hand behind his head and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Better?”
“No, do it again.”
You pulled his head back down and kissed him again, rougher this time; you were balancing on a tightrope-thin line between satisfaction and taking it past the point of no return. But the danger was part of the thrill. Pulling back, you gaze up at him, smiling shyly.
“Why did you stop?”
“We need to make dinner. I’m hungry.”
“You know you can always eat--”
“No,” you said, cutting him off.
“But--”
“We’re eating real food. What do you want for dinner?”
“Y--”
“It can’t be me. I am not a food,” you reminded him.
“Technically--”
“I already said no, hence all of your arguments are futile.”
“Ugh, fine. Let’s make ramen.”
“You always want ramen…” you sighed.
“Yes, but you have to agree my ramen is always the best.”
“I suppose you do have a point. Ramen it is.”
“After we eat dinner can I have you for dessert?” Hope dies eternally apparently, especially in Mitsuya’s case. You thwacked him in the shoulder.
“Release me, pervert, I already said no. I’m too tired.” You could have sworn you saw a light die in his eyes. “Maybe another night.”
“What does that mean?”
“I dunno, maybe tomorrow.”
“Morning?”
“No!--maybe? Go make dinner before I change my mind…”
“Eep ok!” He scurried off to the tiny kitchen attached to your dorm, and you trudged after him, condemned to help with dinner by your stupid promise. At least making food together was a good bonding activity, and you’d have to say as anniversaries go, this one was one of your favorites. Even if Mitsuya was a prick, you still loved him more than anyone else in the entire world. And that was enough to get you to get forced into cooking, especially with him.
Leaning against the wall adjoining the kitchen, watching Mitsuya grab ingredients, you realized just how lucky you were. How lucky you had always been to find someone as wonderful as him. It warmed your heart every night to know that he would always be there for you, and you would always be there for him.