Work Text:
As August settles into the air, Shoto senses the days of summer creeping upon him like a persistent leech. The heat clings to him like a damp chill, reminiscent of the approaching rainy season, seeping into his clothes. It shivers him to his marrow and he simply finds himself stuck in the comfort— if he can even call it one, of his cold and lightless apartment.
Today is one of those moments when Shoto feels utterly immobilized, unable to break free from the comfort provided by his apartment, let alone his own room. Has he eaten? Has he made his bed? Has he even had a sip of water since he woke up? Shoto can't recall the last time he had a proper meal. From the moment he woke up, he simply dragged his weary body to the bathroom for a hasty shower and a brief attempt at freshening up, only to return to his bed and sprawl back down, surrendering to the heaviness that seems to weigh him down.
The clock reads 2:09 PM, and Shoto realizes that his day should have begun much earlier. He lets out a sigh as he contemplates the tasks he's been neglecting. His stomach grumbles, his phone incessantly rings for the past thirty minutes, and he's aware that he should seize the opportunity of the sunny weather to do his grocery shopping before the rain returns. However, he finds himself chuckling at the irony of wanting the rain to come, as if it would provide him with a convenient excuse to avoid his responsibilities even further.
“Shoto, move already…” He helplessly whispers as he checks his phone first— briefly viewing the lockscreen to pass through the missed notifications.
Three missed calls from Mysta Rias. 2 missed calls from Minase. 1 missed call from Uki Violeta. And most importantly…
Absolutely, no missed calls from Shu Yamino.
He breathes out another heavy breath. It feels like his heart got even heavier from the sight and its taking everything in his will not to call back.
Arguing with Shu Yamino is gut-wrenching. The vision is still clear in his mind— how it started from a harmless candlelit dinner they have both prepared. No occasions due— just them in the presence of Shoto’s apartment and under the gaze of the setting moon. Shoto could feel the uncomfortable kick of anxiety kicking in him since the day before the dinner. Too occupied, he ended up shrugging the relapsing feeling off. The feeling of that gnawing feeling in his gut— unknowing of where it comes from. The feeling of just wanting to shrug and hide from any traces of social interaction and seclude oneself in a bubble.
The exhaustion from absolutely nothing but everything at the same time. The feeling clung to Shoto like a relentless leech, and that night, it all spilled over, leading to raised voices and a sense of unrest that tainted what should have been a joyful evening, forgetting about the hearty meals and rendering it slowly tasteless.
Shoto remembers it far too clearly, and he wishes he doesn’t remember how Shu’s face contorted into an upset frown as he pushes him away from his radius.
“We’re not doing this right now, please. Talk to me, Shou.” Shu hurriedly follows him, expectant of catching the other before he locks himself in his room.
“I don’t want to speak with you anymore, Shu, please. I’m tired.” Shoto’s head hung low and regretful and his voice somber as ever. The presence of Shu continuously pushing him over the edge is not the best combination with his episodes and it was evident from the tension permeating the space.
The meals they prepared were long forgotten and cold. The pie they made together has already melted in the heat of the argument as they hastily exit the dining space.
“Shoto, we don’t get to sleep like this. I get that you’re tired but at least tell me from what— What caused this?” Shu’s voice starts picking up its pace and Shoto could feel Shu’s patience running thin from the back and forth conversation but how could he answer? He himself didn't know what had caused his sudden gloom—where it had come from or why it gripped him so tightly.
There were moments when Shoto simply felt himself plummet to the ground, burdened by an unknown weight. The world seemed to press down on his shoulders, squeezing the air from his lungs. He felt overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness that seemed to have no source, and all he wanted was to deal with it alone. It bothers him. It bothers him that he doesn’t need Shu as of the moment.
“Shu, just— I don’t know, okay?!” He couldn’t help but raise. “But we’re not gonna end up fixing this if you keep pushing me further! Just leave me al—”
“Shoto—”
“Leave me alone! I don’t need this today. I don’t need you right now. God, just—” Oh, stop. He hears his rationality plead. Don’t say these words. Don’t hurt Shu Yamino further. You’ve done enough.
“Leave me be. I can’t deal with this today— I can’t deal with yo—” Not another word. Look at what you’ve done! Look at him and how much you’re ruining everything.
’You’re so hard to love.’ His heart whispers.
’You’re ruining everything again.’ His mind plays.
’Pushing him away as if you can handle being alone.’ His body betrays him and he knows he’s at the verge of self-sabotage. The air grows colder as his mouth trembles in lost words and a broken sob— and everything in between.
But… but—but,
He finds his thoughts cut short with a heavy yet warm touch leading him down the sofa. Shu sat him down gently, successfully cutting the string of painful words that were about to fall from his mouth. He places his hands gently yet decisively on his shoulders as he lets him breathe air— sits him down to let him reflect on his actions.
The soft seams of the seat helped so very little as he huffs in plain exhaustion. He knows Shu has a point… It will cut them deeper if he lets this argument get away but he also just wanted to avoid dealing with this. He couldn’t even explain what it was, how will they end up with a proper conversation without adding salt to the wound? Without angering each other further?
Yet Shu was the first to understand… As kind and loving as ever, "Okay, I understand." His smile, though tinged with a touch of pain, remained tender and comforting. "I'll give you some space to sort out your feelings. When you're ready, talk to me, okay? I'll be here.”
“I’m here… I just wanted you to know that.”
“I’ll leave the pie in the oven and I already washed the dishes, hmm? It just needs to be dried and kept.”
“I left peeled fruits for you in the fridge. Please, eat that if you ever go hungry in the middle of the night.”
“You didn’t eat much tonight. I kept the leftovers in the fridge, just heat it up if the fruits are not enough, okay?”
Multiple loving requests and reminders and he couldn’t help but tear up as he hears Shu sigh before leaving his home.
“I still love you, Shou. Call me when you need me.”
And maybe it hits him a little more deeply. How he said he still loves him than just his usual three-worded sentences. It marked his heart and etched a sign that he loved him through and beyond. Beyond what’s on the surface and whats lies beneath. On his good and high to the bad and slumbering— Shu Yamino loves him despite.
Shu Yamino loves him, still, still, and even more.
A lovely and fun-loving soul, is someone Shoto is certain he doesn't deserve. His gentle smiles and hearty laughter— and everything are something Shoto wants to preserve. Shu Yamino— an eternal sunshine, is a treasure that Shoto both misses and fears to break.
The fight last night was already starting to slip off from his memory. Just another argument to add to the records, and another memory in which he made Shu Yamino upset.
Then when the tension becomes unbearable, Shu will eventually show up at his door, seeking reconciliation, and Shoto will respond by showering him with affectionate kisses, hoping it can mend the rift between them.
Shoto never intends to upset Shu, but somehow things always end up on the wrong side of the spectrum. He feels like an anchor, dragging them both down whenever he relapses once again.
Which is more reasons for him to fix things right? He thinks as he blinks in fear the moment he sends a greeting of good afternoons. What is Shu Yamino feeling now? That, he’s scared to know.
However he couldn’t really do much about it, because the second he pressed the nagging call button, it only took three rings before Shu responded.Ah, he’s answering me… Is he mad about yesterday? Shoto finds himself picking up breaths.
The beginning of the call was excruciating to say the least. It took a few labored breaths before one could talk first. In Shoto’s case, he didn’t think he had the right to speak first at all.
But Shu breaks first,as always, “How are you, Shou?” He asks first, still as kind and loving as ever.
Shoto takes a while to respond to bask in his voice, closing his eyes and feeling it. Who was he kidding, huh? Shu is in his natural habitat— ever so calm and collected. His voice is still cotton-like, soft to the touch and heart. He almost trembles before replying. “Shu…” He clears his throat slightly. “I’m fine.” I miss you badly.
"Mhm..." Shu's response carries a hint of expectation, as if waiting for something more. Yet, he eventually lets it go, deciding to address the issue at hand. "Is this about last night... I—"
"I'm sorry." Shoto interrupts. He knows where this would lead now, and he’s memorized their ways at this point. Shu would be the first to apologize even if Shoto was the first to initiate. He would find the reason to blame himself and pin the problem to him so it would wound up ‘easier’ in his eyes. But Shoto is determined to change that. He insists on making things right from now on, permanently. For Shu. For them both.
“I’m so sorry, darling… I should have acted on it a different way. You’re right, we should have talked about it last night.” Shoto sits his heart down and humbles himself. He does not bother with the ‘buts and causes’, he was at fault and its all that matters. They both know that an apology does not come with buts. “I’m sorry for hurting you and I’m sorry you had to leave without… without us fixed…” Without me saying an ‘I love you’ back.
A pause ensues between them but unlike earlier, it enveloped like a silent comforting breather. He could hear Shu’s tranquility as clear as day and he swears he has the most tender smile on his face.
“It’s alright, Shou. I’m okay… We’re okay.” He assures, like the petrichor on a rainy day. And Shoto thinks that statement is the assurance that he needed throughout. They’re okay… He’s okay. He forgives him still, and they humbled themselves in the process. And maybe that’s all they really needed. To humble each other gently.
“I’ll make it up. Let me see you, please? Let’s see each other.” Shoto swiftly leaves the confinement of his bed, moving with renewed energy. Everything looks clearer to him now, and his heart only echoes one thing: Let me see Shu. Let me love him again and again.
“My door is open, baby.”
Going to Shu’s place has a special space in Shoto’s heart. Usually, their indoor meet-ups take place in Shoto's apartment, and he doesn't mind that at all. He understands that Shu considers his place a personal sanctuary, and that's perfectly fine with him. It's not like he's never been to his place before, but it has been a month since his last visit. He can confidently say that he missed the unique charm of Shu's space—modern yet not devoid of life. The green accents add the perfect touch of nature without overwhelming the place.
Oh, and the music always playing in the background. Shu's love for music, particularly jazzy beats, is something Shoto can never get enough of. It was something he teased Shu about— that his place almost feels like a hotel lobby. The lively tunes always find their way into Shu Yamino's apartment, and Shoto can already hear them from just outside the door.
He feels a strange reluctance to move as if his feet are glued to the floor. But with a deep breath, maybe one, maybe more, he shakes off the hesitation and finally knocks on the white mahogany door. He paces the knocks with a secret rhythm they both agreed upon, a signal for Shu to know it's him. A few seconds tick by, and his heart beats a bit faster as he hears footsteps approaching the door. Part of him wants to step back, but he steadies himself and waits.
And wait he should do, because the brief moment in which the door creaks open revealing his lover, he thanks the few seconds waiting got him to.
Because, because…
Because Shu Yamino stands there, looking even more breathtaking and so, so, full of love.
It almost punches him directly in the heart and he feels the hallway squeeze him tight. Is it because we fought? But, why does he look so… tender? It was as if he just wanted to hold him close, to hug him desperately for its all he could do.
Shoto’s stance wavers and he finds himself struggling to hold the fruits basket he so, so carefully picked out just for Shu. In doing so, the latter brings his sight from the indigo beauty down to his stammering hands which looks like he was about to drop what he was holding. Shu chuckles, of course he does.
He greets him a good afternoon while holding the door open, “Do you need help? Whatchu got there?” His voice sounds like he already knows what it was anyway, but who is Shu Yamino without his natural teasing antics reserved purely for Shoto?
“A fruits basket,” He simply replies, putting his shoes on the rack just beside the door. “I got your favorites, and… also the apple pie we baked yesterday.” His voice hanging a tad bit lower.
Shu beams. Perhaps to lighten everything up, Shoto doesn’t know. “Ah, I wanted to taste this. Go, hang your coat, baby. I made curry.”
Upon returning from hanging his jacket on the rack, Shoto finds himself captivated by the sight of an excited Shu, resembling a child eagerly exploring the contents of the basket. A fond smile forms on Shoto's face as he cherishes the moment— Shu, clad in a silly banana pajama with the bow of his ignored violin casually set aside on the table, surrounded by plates he seemed to have prepared before he arrived.
The aroma of steaming curry also fills the air, enveloping Shoto in a warm embrace, deepening the sense of comfort and familiarity. The familiarity of the sight of Shu looking back at him with full adoration as if whispering: I forgive you. Let’s be better. Let’s love each other more.
Shoto’s mind etches as he sits in front of him, that maybe this is their concept of love after all. The love shared at home, on the table, and on the front porch while holding a basket of fruits.
The love shared when they argue and give each other space yet still finding more reasons to cherish one another. The love that enables them to forgive and humble themselves in each other's presence.
Shoto’s heart continuously beats throughout the phrases: Come, teach me how to love as kind as you. I’ll be kinder. I’ll be better for you. For us.
Because what is love if not maintaining each other? If not surrendering to the virtue named ‘humility’?
Shu’s heart pours out as Shoto remembers how he sat him so gently with just a little force to knock him out his senses yet still, his eyes flooded everything that he needed to see that night: I’ll leave you be but I’ll come back. I’ll come back to you for I’m yours until you tell me otherwise.
A give and take kind of love. Just enough for one to tip over and balance the other.
And Shu can certainly agree with him, because as he sees Shoto cutting him a slice of apple pie— a slice a bit bigger than his own, he knows the connection between them won’t falter through a night of raised voices and tears because this moment is bigger. This is the love that prevails. He sees it in the way Shoto can offer him a thousand fruit baskets, and he'd willingly peel every single one for him.
"It seems like we can only plan a dinner date on my good days, huh?" Shoto jests, having finished the last piece of the crust that Shu had seemingly ignored. He's about to offer another apology when Shu speaks up before him.
“Hmm, I love you on your good days…”
Shoto shrugs. “The bad ones howeve—” Of course it’s hard to love on the bad ones.
“I’ll love you even more on the bad,”
“I love you regardless.” He concludes.
Shoto feels his cheeks go scarlet from the snarky smile he offered as he seemingly ignores everything and stands with the dishes on hand. How could he— how could he even say this so casually? He’s confessing this to me while bringing the dishes to the sink, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s too much to handle. I’m too much to handle sometimes. Admit it, darling, I’m hard to maintain.” He follows the man bearing the dishes with the soap and scrub at hand. He must say— chores are tolerable when you do it with someone you love.
“I like maintaining you, baby.” Shu chuckles— golden and true. He wipes the soapy bubbles on Shoto’s nose, earning him another chuckle as Shoto crinkles his eyes when he blows on them.
Shu’s heart sings, another and more: Yes, sometimes it’s too much. But it’s okay— we’re okay. See how you still fit perfectly in my heart.