Work Text:
Tomoyasu was on his last straw.
The day started out disgustingly bad. His coffee mug had broken, just completely fallen off the handle before he’d even had a chance to get any coffee at all, so he was forced to use a different mug that was not his coffee mug and just felt so wrong to be using.
Then, there were morbidly unintelligent clients to deal with. Clients so unbelievably stupid and tech illiterate he could feel a nerve in his eye twitching every time they so much as opened their mouths to speak. He had to work through lunch to accommodate the idiocy of it all.
And now here he was hours later, still at his desk, typing away at his computer in the dark where he usually loved to be, but right now he couldn’t stand.
Clutching his forehead in a vice-like grip, his free hand pressing the keys on the keyboard so aggressively they threatened to break. The clacking sound grated in his ears, the blue light emanating from the numerous screens wearing thin the already miniscule shred of patience he had left.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
The small, burning pain in his wrists did nothing to help. But if he didn’t turn or bend them a certain way, it was perfectly fine. Easier said than done, muscle memory was no friend of his in that regard. Or ally. Yes, he liked ally much better. He didn’t think he had friends, but that was fine. He didn’t need them. He shifted position, leaning a little less heavily on his elbow.
Pain flared all along his neck and shoulder, speeding down his arm like a racecar on an empty interstate road. He hissed, freezing in place. It took far too long for that pain to fade, even with little to no movement at all. He really shouldn’t lean like that for so long. It was a distraction from his work, and he couldn’t afford that.
Also not being in pain afterwards was nice.
Tomoyasu bent a finger back, much farther than was normal, just to hear the crack. He repeated the process for all ten, listening for the crack— that genuinely felt rather nice, like snapping spaghetti noodles in half over a pot of boiling water— and shaking out his wrists. It didn’t help the pain in his wrists, but he admittedly felt less tense afterwards.
Not that anyone could tell. When had he ever not been tense?
A sigh left him, and he returned to typing. Eyes, hidden beneath long fringe cut bluntly across, darted over line after line of code. Hundreds of thousands of lines of code all meticulously written out, checked over, and executed as efficiently as perfection could be.
Of course it was perfect. Why wouldn’t it be? He was Tomoyasu , no one could ever begin to dream to be as good as he was at his job. He was the best, the absolute master of it all. There was simply no one better! No one! He was the king! Was there anything higher than a king? If so, he was definitely that. Without a doubt, there was simply—
There was an error message.
He stared at that little grey box, unnaturally bent fingers hovering over the keys, frozen in time. Slowly, he lowered his hands to rest on the keyboard, taking a deep breath.
Exhaling slowly, he reached into the chaotic mess of wires to unplug the keyboard from the computer tower. With the utmost care, he slowly wound the cord around the keyboard. Slowly, methodically winding and winding the cord and tucking the plug itself into the cord to secure it. And for a moment, he just held it in silence, taking another deep breath and exhaling slowly. Then another. Then one more deep breath.
And smashed the keyboard against the desk, scattering keys and flinging the remains at the wall where it shattered, the noise drowned out by enraged shrieking.
The silence rang in his ears, gripping the ends of his hair so tightly his knuckles were white. His breaths came short and quick, not enough to fill his lungs and clear his head.
He had been at this for hours! Perhaps days! He couldn’t remember, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was why wasn’t his code working?!
He let go of his hair, finger joints popping from the stiffness, and pushed off from the desk. His office chair carried him clear across to a little filing cabinet he used as storage, the man almost bending over double to rummage around in the lower drawers. He retrieved what he needed, shut the cabinet, and pushed himself back to the desk.
He plugged the new keyboard into the computer, and set about finding out why that god forsaken error message had popped up. And sure enough, he found out the reason. Of course he would, he was Tomoyasu after all.
And of course it would be a stupid single misplaced semicolon. He fixed it.
More error messages. Because of course there would be. He let his head hit the desk with a thud, groaning loudly. He lifted his head, and let it thud against the desk. And again. And again. And again. His forehead hurt now too. Every hit bounced the lightweight keyboard just a few more centimeters across the surface, slowly migrating it away from him.
He ceased to care. That software was no longer installed. Tomoyasu.exe had officially stopped running. Frustration.exe was now running the show.
His phone pinged. He lifted his head, chin digging into the wood of the desk painfully. The screen had lit up, he had a new message. He muttered obscenities under his breath, picking up the cursed device and blinking at the screen.
<3: Tomo. What is “spilling the tea”?
Tomoyasu blinked, pushing his hair out of his eyes to reread the message. What.
Me: What.
<3: Spilling the tea! What does it mean?
Me: Why are you asking me?
<3: Because you’re a very smart man.
Me: The last person you asked just laughed at you, didn’t they.
<3: Hush.
<3: Sooo what does it mean? I don’t remember spilling any tea at all! Why is spilling tea funny?
Tomoyasu set the phone down, slowly leaning back in his chair. He felt the almost painful pops deep in his spinal column, not at all pleasant. He’d been hunched over for far too long, and now he was paying for it.
That’s enough internet for today. He thought, finally getting up from his chair. He was already saving his work and shutting down all the computers and monitors by the time his vision faded to nothing. He worked through it, unconcerned and slowly feeling his way around the desk for his work back and phone.
His vision returned by the time he found them right where he left them, pocketing the phone and slinging the side bag over his shoulder. It took all of ten seconds at most, and he was already out the door, locking it behind him. Long legs carried him to the parking lot, where his car waited. As much as he didn’t want to sit again, he had to in order to drive. Thank god his drive was short, he didn’t think he could take much more without dissolving into a rage.
His home was a welcome silence after the hell of a time he had. Comforting, enclosed, and entirely his own space. He left his bag and shoes by the door, not even bothering to flick on the light and instead collapsing onto the couch with a huff. He stretched out, half laying on his side and refusing to move until absolutely necessary.
Every joint in his body felt like the bare bones were grinding against each other, even while he wasn’t moving. Moving just made it feel worse. How was he supposed to relax like this?
He would manage, as he always did. He let his eyes fall shut, there wasn’t anything worth keeping them open for anyway. It’s not like he had the television on, and he refused to blind himself in the darkness of his condo. Or even get up to try. The effort to pain ratio was not worth it.
In any case, he would just rest there for a short while. Then he’d drag himself up. Just a few minutes.
It was most certainly not a few minutes.
Tomoyasu was rudely awakened by a hand on his back, patting him gently, but insistently. His head jerked up, every nerve screaming at him. Had he made a noise? He must’ve, if the way the man looking at him was any indication. The gentle pressure of his hands guided Tomoyasu to lay back down again, fingers combing through his long hair.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Koku said. “I just know your back is going to kill you if you continue sleeping here. Though by the sound of it, it already is.”
Tomoyasu muttered under his breath, relaxing under his touch. The warmth felt nice. “You’re home early.”
“Tomo. You are home early. I got here at my usual time.” he corrected, adjusting the blanket Tomoyasu didn’t realize was draped over him. “Bad day?”
He made a disgusted noise, trying to push himself up into somewhat of a sitting position. Even if his joints screamed at him for doing so. “Atrocious. I want to throw something off the top of a skyscraper.”
His fiancé only hummed, hands steadying him until he was upright. “Let’s settle for something a little less destructive, hmm? How does dinner sound?”
“Fine. As long as I don’t have to get up.” he said.
“Well, I can’t promise that.” Koku said, tucking the blanket more securely around the lanky man. “But I can promise food. Which you sorely need, I know you probably didn’t eat much of anything today, did you?”
Tomoyasu genuinely couldn’t remember. He said nothing, mouth pressed into a thin line. He was not in the mood to be scolded like a child. He was a fully grown adult with an adult job and adult responsibilities, thank you very much.
Koku seemed to take that as an answer in and of itself, pressing a kiss to his cheek before standing and leaving the room. He didn’t go very far, just the next room over, leaving Tomoyasu to just sink into the couch. Tucked up in the blanket like an irritated cat at the vet. Maybe or maybe not minus the hissing.
He didn’t even get the chance to try and relax before Koku returned, balancing a few too many items at once in his hands. Full bowls and mugs, a hot water bottle tucked under one arm were among them. Joints protesting, Tomoyasu untangled himself from the blanket to help carry a few of the things.
The table was set quickly, there wasn’t really much to set when it was just the two of them. Tomoyasu remained wrapped up in the blanket to eat, his sweater just wasn’t quite enough to replace that gentle warmth. Although the hot water bottle certainly helped, his bones didn’t ache nearly as much as before.
They ate in a comfortable quiet, just content to be in each other’s presence. Tomoyasu’s brain didn’t feel quite as loud as before, there was only the noise of spoons dinging against bowls for a long while for him to focus on.
His forehead still felt mildly bruised.
“How are you feeling?” Tomoyasu paused at the question, one eye peering at the man across the table through a gap in his hair. A careful moment of consideration, sipping his tea in silence.
“Functional.” was what he settled on. It wasn’t positive or negative, and it technically was perfectly factual. He was, in fact, functional at that current moment. It could change at any time, but that was future him’s problem.
And present him was absolutely not going to deal with it after the day he had.
Koku’s hand was on his, thumb tracing patterns on the back of his hand. They stayed like that a while longer, until Tomoyasu’s hand started to feel stiff. He pulled away reluctantly, bending his fingers back to hear the crack.
His fiancé winced. “Does that really not hurt? It’s so loud.” he said, starting to gather the empty dishes.
“It feels nice, actually. You should try it sometime.”
“Love. If I even thought about doing that I would immediately break my fingers. I am not nearly as bendable as you.”
A chuckle escaped him, grinning faintly. He finally wiggled his way out of the blanket, taking the rest of the dishes before Koku could gather them up and brought them to the sink. “I know. I know very well.”
He dumped the dishes into the sink with slightly more care than he would have in previous years. Did they have a dishwasher? Yes. Did he want to just feel the way too hot water used when washing dishes by hand? Also yes.
It felt very, very nice. And it was something he simply could never fail at, so he never had to micromanage it to the degree he was staying up three days straight and scaring people half to death sitting in the dark. Also very, very nice.
Eventually, the dishes were done. When had that happened? He set them out to dry, drying his own hands on a towel. Without the constant heat of the water, the ache in his wrists slowly began to fade in again. Oh well.
Footsteps approached from behind. Quiet, but loud enough to avoid startling the lanky man further. Though he couldn’t help the startled twitch and tiny yelp that escaped him when he was simply lifted up, a strong arm around his waist holding him close.
Tomoyasu instinctively scrunched up like a cat, clinging to his fiancé like his life depended on it. “Wait, wait, wait, wait! I wasn’t ready! You can’t just—”
“I can just.” Koku said, adjusting his grip on the man to bring him close for a kiss. He missed, Tomoyasu’s head turning at the last second so it landed on his cheek. “You have all the power to stop me, Tomo. You haven’t yet, that’s how I know you’re not feeling well.”
Tomoyasu grumbled, settling down for the moment. He so despised being able to be read so well. But he wasn’t exactly in a position to argue. His head felt quieter than it had in a while after all.
“That and you haven’t nagged me about anything yet so far. Or talked much at all, really. And you never fall asleep on the couch unless it’s especially bad.”
Tomoyasu reached up to flick that silly strand of hair dangling over his love’s forehead, earning a squawk from the man. “Your silly question earlier wore me out. My great intellect needed a system reboot to comprehend your level of absurdity.”
Koku laughed, turning on his heel to carry him through the house. He was carried into the bathroom, and gently lowered back onto the ground so he could stand. The tub was full of water, warm judging by the steam.
“Go on and get in.”
“You’re being incredibly kind today.” he said, stripping out of his clothes to climb into the water. It was so much better being submerged in water than just being wrapped in a blanket.
“I want you to actually relax, Tomo. Not get up every two seconds because something needs to be worked on.” Koku said. Moments later he was joining him in the water, letting Tomoyasu lean back against him.
“So. You’re purposefully trapping me in the water so I can’t leave. That’s you’re brilliant strategy?” he asked, resting his head back against the man’s shoulder. His hair couldn’t quite cover his face, exposing his eyes for the moment.
“It’s working, is it not?” the water sloshed a little as he put his arms around Tomoyasu’s middle, easily encircling the scrawny man’s waist. He was comfortable, the water was warm. He didn’t feel much like even attempting to escape.
He muttered, stretching out in the water as much as the space allowed. “No.” he said, remaining firmly where he was. The water rippled faintly with Koku’s laugh, his hand coming up to comb through long inky black hair.
Tomoyasu could stay like this for a while. He had nowhere to be for the rest of the night, he didn’t have to return to the office until morning. And after that he was off to Deika for very important matters. The perks of having every day meticulously planned out to the very last second.
Tomoyasu had absolutely zero clue that he had fallen asleep again. His only hint he’d even fallen asleep at all was the fact he was waking up to significantly cooler water and a hand nudging his shoulder.
He allowed Koku to maneuver him out of the water, wrap him in a warm towel, and just let him sit quietly in front of the little space heater they had for a bit. The journey to bed was just as much of a drowsy blur, but he cared very little. All that mattered was that he was warm, relatively lacking pain, and curled up around his fiancé.
A pair of lips pressed to his forehead, he lifted his head just enough to return the kiss lazily. They laid together like that for a long while, Tomoyasu just drifting sleepily in and out.
“You never did answer my question, you know.”
“It’s something you say when you want to know more.” he muttered. He could practically feel the confusion emanating from the man.
“Oh.”
Several days later, Tomoyasu was at the office when his phone pinged.
RD: Why is Trumpet asking me to spill my tea?
Tomoyasu let his head drop to the desk.