Archive of Our Own

“You guys ever feel so happy you’re genuinely afraid you might actually explode into just like, rainbow and glitter and sunshine and sparkles?” Chigiri asked, trying his best not to move his lips too much and disturb his moisturizing face mask.

“No…but that sounds glam,” Aryu offered, envisioning beautiful skin. Reo’s new spa—like everything of Reo’s—was top of the line, expensive, premier, first class, best of the best, so on and so forth. There was no way Aryu wasn’t gonna walk out of here looking absolutely glowing and stylishly hydrated (on Reo’s dime).

“Do you ask because that is something you’re actually battling with?” Reo asked from his chair on the other side of Chigiri. He opened one eye to glance over. “Or are you just looking for an excuse to gush about Kunigami?”

“I never need an excuse to gush about Kunigami,” Chigiri said serenely. He let out a contented sigh. “I…am so. insanely. happy. This is the happiest I’ve ever been. He’s always hugging me and kissing me and snuggling me and—ugh. It’s all I’ve ever wanted; I might just vomit rainbows right here.”

“I might just vomit, period,” Reo offered wryly.

“Please, neither of you vomit,” Aryu pleaded, trying not to laugh. “I’m happy for you, Chigiri. You waited a long time.”

“I wanna marry him,” Chigiri announced.

For a second, neither Reo nor Aryu knew what to say.

Finally, though, Reo tried. “Like, hypothetically..? Is that just an observation you wanted to share or..?”

“I want to ask him to marry me,” Chigiri clarified.

“But haven’t you only been dating like a couple months—”

“So?” Chigiri countered. “What, you’re the only one allowed to live in wedded bliss or something?”

“You know that’s not it,” Reo hissed.

“Sorry, young master Reo, but I think this young man has the right idea,” Ba-Ya offered from her chair on the other side of Reo. She’d been so quiet that the boys had kind of forgotten she was there. There probably wasn’t a facial treatment in the world strong enough to make a difference on her weathered face but she’d tittered in delight when they insisted she join them for their spa day. “A charming, strapping young man like that? Don’t take any longer than necessary to chain him to the bedpost and throw away the key, I say.”

“Ba-Ya!” Reo gasped, absolutely appalled.

“Ba-Ya gets me,” Chigiri said triumphantly.

Ba-Ya hummed in enthusiastic agreement. “Wife him up, young man.”

Reo made some godawful strangled sound.

“Fine,” Chigiri said pointedly, trying to distract Reo before he had a stroke. “How long did it take you to know Nagi was the one? That you wanted to be with him forever?”

“Well…” Reo hesitated. He’d known very early on, even if the, um, slight bumps during Blue Lock were still kind of a sore subject. But after…he couldn’t marry Nagi fast enough. They hadn’t gotten married immediately, of course, because Nagi was…Nagi, bless his heart, and there was still a little miscommunication here and there.

But once they got on the same page about things, they’d planned a big elaborate wedding…then ended up running away and eloping.

Reo’s parents still hadn’t completely forgiven him.

Trying to get out of answering, Reo unthinkingly passed the buck, “What about you, Aryu?”

Then he immediately cringed underneath his expensive, secret-ingredient moisturizing mask, mentally kicking himself for putting his recently-pedicured foot in his mouth.

“I’d say yes in a heartbeat if I was asked,” Aryu answered. Then he huffed a laugh, mindful not to move his face too much and cause his mask to slip. “Not that that would ever happen.”

“You really don’t think so?” Chigiri asked, sounding a bit sad.

“We’ve been together almost ten glam years if you round up. We started dating before we even left Blue Lock,” Aryu reminded him gently.

“I know but…” Chigiri trailed off.

“You’ve never even like, talked about it?” Reo asked, trying to ease back into the conversation.

“Not once,” Aryu replied.

“Well…what—what if you were the one to propose..?” Chigiri suggested.

“Really?” Aryu laughed as much as he could without moving his face. “You guys know him well enough to know if it was something he wanted, he would’ve been the one to ask ages ago. So he obviously doesn’t have any desire or intention to get married and I know that and that’s perfectly glam,” Aryu explained simply. “I may not be about to explode into glitter,” he teased, trying to lighten things back up, “but I’m plenty happy.”

Reo and Chigiri hesitated, neither knowing what to say to that.

“Enough about me,” Aryu said. “Continue, Chigiri. Tell me all about your glam sparkle rainbow sunshine explosion. We’ve been waiting a long time for you to snag him, live it up and tell us all the stylish details.”

“Really?” Chigiri asked hopefully. “You don’t mind if I gush?”

“Gush away,” Aryu encouraged, ignoring Reo’s dramatic groan.

Chigiri didn’t need to be told twice before he was off and running.

“Okay, so! If I get home before he does, I hurry to put on an apron and start cooking something—”

“What, is Kunigami a bad cook?” Reo asked.

“Not at all. But if I’m cooking first, then when he gets home he comes over and hugs me from behind all sexy-like and nuzzles into my neck a bit and murmurs, ‘smells good’ and I say, ‘oh it’s nothing special’ or something like that and he says, ‘I wasn’t talking about the food.’ Every time! And every time I love it!” Chigiri  squealed, actually kicking his heels a little. “But I cannot even tell you how many things I’ve burned because we end up getting distracted. Like much more kitchen hanky panky and it’s just a matter of time before we set the kitchen on fire…”

“I’m gonna ask Chigiri to marry me,” Kunigami said after they finished cooldown from their workout, wiping the sweat from his face with his towel.

Barou choked on his protein drink. “You serious?” No sooner had it left his mouth than he realized how stupid that sounded; Kunigami was always serious. “You’ve been dating like two weeks.”

“Two months,” Kunigami corrected.

Barou rolled his eyes dismissively. “Same difference.”

“I’m not saying I’m gonna ask today,” Kunigami clarified. “But we’ve been waiting to get together longer than you and Aryu have been together. I love him, I know this is what I want; why wait just to appease some arbitrary timeline?”

“I guess,” Barou grumbled. Kunigami had been through a lot, and had been pining that whole time. And he and Kunigami were workout friends—and, well, actual friends, when Barou thought about it. He was ambiguously happy for the guy. Besides, whether Kunigami married Chigiri or not didn’t really have shit to do with him.

“What about you?” Kunigami asked.

Barou frowned. “What about me what?”

Kunigami looked back flatly, which always annoyed the shit out of Barou. He wasn’t some idiot; it was Kunigami’s fault for being vague!

“Proposing,” Kunigami said finally. “How much longer are you going to make Aryu wait?”

“Aryu’s not waiting for shit!” Barou half-roared immediately. Proposing? Marriage? What the fuck! “What are you even—”

“You didn’t think two months was long enough,” Kunigami pointed out rationally. “So how long is long enough? How long have you two been together?”

“A…while,” Barou said evasively, stalling for time to count. “Eight…nine…ten? Years? No that sounds like a lot…nine? Fuck, I dunno. What, just because we’ve been together…roughly eight to ten years that means we gotta get married? What’s wrong with the way we are?”

“Nothing,” Kunigami said lightly. “You’re right, nothing says you have to get married at all.”

“Not like it means anything anyway,” Barou insisted. “If someone really wants to leave, a ring and a piece of paper isn’t gonna stop them.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Kunigami said with a nod. “And, hey, Aryu’s put up with you this long. If he was gonna cheat or leave, he probably would’ve done it by now.”

“Wait, why’d you throw ‘cheat’ in there? I am the King—you think anyone would dare cheat on me?” When Kunigami didn’t answer, Barou pressed, “Kunigami!” But soon he fizzled, seeing Kunigami wasn’t paying attention to him but at his phone instead. “…What are you grinning like a fool at your phone again for?”

“Ah,” Kunigami said, not the least bit embarrassed like he had been in the beginning when Barou would call him out for grinning like a giddy doofus. “They’re having a spa day and Chigiri sent me a pic. I swear he just keeps getting cuter.”

Barou rolled his eyes (not that Kunigami was looking) and shook his head. “He moves fast, alright,” Barou grumbled. “You guys moved in together in like two seconds…isn’t living together enough?”

“Not for me,” Kunigami said, sending off a thirst trap (at Chigiri’s persistent request) before tossing his phone back on his duffel. Barou made sure to make a disgusted face in case he showed up in the background. “I want the paper and the ceremony and the rings. I want Hyoma to know without a doubt I’ll love him and only him for the rest of our lives.”

Barou grimaced a little and glanced away; Kunigami was too bright and shining to look at when he was like this. Herogami was back in action, thanks to…well, action.

“Fine…” Barou muttered.

“But living together has been pretty great too,” Kunigami said, a dopey smile on his face. “Some nights he’ll be making dinner and he just looks so damn cute with his little apron and he has his hair pulled up into this bun-thing he does and…gah. How can a guy resist that? And better yet—I don’t have to! I don’t have to resist! I can just go right over and hug him from behind and peek over his shoulder—”

“Oi oi oi, TMI!” Barou protested. “Besides, much more of that shit and you’re gonna burn the house down.”

“Yeah.” Kunigami agreed sheepishly. “At this point it’s not a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when.’” He cringed hopefully. “Can we stay with you and Aryu when we burn the house down? You have an extra room, right?”

“Hell no!” Barou gruffed. A shitty grin broke across Kunigami’s face as Barou shoved his shoulder. “Get out of here already, go home to your blushing bride.”

“I think I’m probably the one that blushes the most out of the two of us,” Kunigami joked.

“Nah, you’re both disgustingly shameless. Go!”

It was a bit later as Barou tidied up his gym, the echo of Kunigami’s laughter long gone, that Barou couldn’t help but thinking about what Kunigami had actually said.

“How can a guy resist that? And better yet—I don’t have to! I don’t have to resist! I can just go right over and hug him from behind and peek over his shoulder—”

As annoying as it (still) was, Aryu was taller so Barou couldn’t very comfortably rest his chin on Aryu’s shoulder and cuddle or whatever the fuck. So Aryu would have to be the…hugger…and, well, “hugging” Barou from behind while he was cooking was a pretty surefire way to get an elbow in the gut and yelled at. Loudly.

Barou was an unapologetic clean freak so kitchen shenanigans had never even remotely been an option…but did Aryu…want that?

Still smiling to himself a little at Chigiri’s very sparkly, very enthusiastic oversharing, Aryu called out a very soft, “I’m home!” as he took off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen.

Barou sat at the table, angled slightly away from the door, staring at his laptop. Aryu took a little moment to appreciate—Barou had been undeniably beautiful at eighteen but now he was heart-stoppingly gorgeous. He could hardly blame Chigiri for needing to gush about Kunigami—Aryu’s inner monologue was ninety-percent completely objective Barou gushing to this day. Haiku, limericks, sonnets in iambic pentameter—Aryu’s brain composed a running Ode to My Beautiful King Barou Shōei all day long.

Even just in a snug black tank top and tearaways, hair down after his post-workout shower (hair down! Aryu never got tired of it!) he looked like a Greek god or a sculpture come to life, sitting there pensive and slightly melancholic at their kitchen table.

Wait, pensive and slightly melancholic?

“Sho-chan..?” Aryu ventured.

Barou startled, having been lost in thought. “Ah—Aryu. I didn’t…welcome home—”

Aryu snorted indelicately. He wasn’t melancholic, he looked exhausted. “What happened to you? Kunigami put you through the wringer today?” Barou just blinked back at him, not comprehending, so Aryu added, taking a seat, “You look really…tired.”

“Ah.” Barou shook his head a little, clearing the fog. “Yeah. Not in the way you’re thinking, though. Him always blabbing about Chigiri is wearing me out.”

Aryu laughed. “They’re in their honeymoon phase, that’s normal—” He stopped mid sentence at the sudden stern crease between Barou’s eyebrows. “What?”

“But if it’s the honeymoon phase shouldn’t that happen after they get married? Why is it now?”

“It’s just a figure of speech…” Aryu replied slowly, unsure of why Barou seemed so troubled. “Usually after people get together, whether they’re married or not…”

Barou’s frown deepened. “Did we have a—” The sentence ended right there, cut short with a click of teeth.

No, they hadn’t had one. Their relationship was forged in the midst of the epic highs and lows that was soccer hell. Even if Barou had been the honeymoon phase type (which Aryu certainly doubted he was) it wouldn’t have been the time or the place. And post Blue Lock recovery phase wasn’t really the time or place either; figuring out their lives took precedence over figuring out their relationship.

By the time things had leveled out a bit, they’d already been together over a year. They’d skipped the honeymoon phase entirely and settled into old married couple phase.

Which in the past hadn’t bothered Aryu a bit. In fact he took it as a point of pride, a testament to the strength of their stylish love. If their relationship could survive Blue Lock it could survive anything.

Or so Aryu had always believed.

“Chigiri literally squealed when he got that pic from Kunigami this afternoon,” Aryu said, trying to fill the silence. “The sound he made was so high pitched I thought it was gonna break glass.”

It took a second for Barou to remember what pic Aryu was talking about.

“Why don’t—” Why don’t you ever ask for thirst traps?

Thankfully Barou stopped it before it was out of his mouth. Why the fuck would Aryu ask for pictures? What the hell would he even need them for? First of all, Aryu worked out with him half the time—why would he need a picture when Barou was standing right next to him? And secondly, Aryu did most of the editing for Barou’s channel and took the vast majority of the pictures for his social media. He spent so many hours staring at Barou in various states of undress, vascularity, and sweatiness that he was probably sick of looking at him—

Wait. Was that possible?

Could Aryu really be sick of looking at him?

“‘Why don’t’ what?” Aryu asked when it became obvious Barou had no intention of finishing his sentence.

“Huh? Oh…I…I was gonna say, ‘why don’t I take a bath and go to bed,’” Barou ad-libbed. “Maybe Kunigami wore me out more than I thought, I’m kind of, uh, tired—”

“You already took a bath, didn’t you?” Aryu asked uncertainly.

Barou actually glanced down at the still-damp hair draped over his shoulders. “Ah. Yeah. Yeah, I just meant—”

“Sho-chan, do you feel alright?” Aryu asked.

“Fine,” Barou lied. “Just tired, I think.”

“Alright,” Aryu said limply. It didn’t bother him that Barou hadn’t commented on the extra-silkiness of his hair or the magnificent hydration of his skin post-spa trip; sure, it would have been nice but Barou had never been the type to notice so Aryu hadn’t expected anything. But after listening to Chigiri gush about Kunigami all day (and then, not to be shown up, Reo had bragged up Nagi a bit—making sure Ba-Ya was out of hearing for the more sordid bits) Aryu had really wanted…

Well, he wanted some lovin’!

He’d listened with a patient, good-friend smile as Reo and Chigiri chattered on because all the while he knew he’d be going home to the sexiest man alive.

Aryu had hoped to make it home in time to catch Barou before he hit the shower—still glistening beautifully with sweat, his skin glowing and cheeks flushed. To this day Barou groused at him for it but stealing a kiss or two, sucking and licking along Barou’s neck and those phenomenal traps, salt on his tongue was one of Aryu’s absolute favorite things.

And okay, Barou had already showered by the time Aryu arrived. But that was glam too! Barou didn’t like fooling around sweaty, after all, so this meant they could get right to it…and the upside of someone as much of a clean freak as Barou was that every inch of him was fresh and clean. Aryu’s mouth could explore anywhere and everywhere—not a single bit of that glorious body was off-limits.

So after listening to his friends all day, Aryu couldn’t wait to get his hands (and his mouth) alllll over that gorgeous man of his and worship him until they were both wrung dry.

“Get some rest,” Aryu said, doing his best to keep his disappointment from showing on his face. Then, before he could think better of it: “Can I—” Can I have a kiss?

What ridiculous thing was he even asking? Hanging out with his twitterpated friends was rotting his brain! They weren’t a casually affectionate couple—Barou didn’t care for kisses and touches unless they were leading to…something more and they had already established that tonight was off-limits! And, sure, Aryu had been a lot more free with spontaneous affection in the beginning. But after Barou kept rolling his eyes or being all scowly or groaning dramatically, Aryu ultimately stopped with the random kisses because apparently Barou truly hated them.

…How many years ago was that?

“What were you gonna say?” Barou asked, waiting.

“Oh. Um. Can I…take a look at today’s video? Might as well start editing it.”

Having gotten pleasantly distracted with video editing and other computery things (such as reorganizing his ‘Best of Barou Shōei’ photo album—it was full of glam shirtless workout photos but sometimes Aryu wished Barou would snap a sexy thirst trap, for his eyes only) it was very late by the time Aryu crawled into bed.

“Sho-chan,” he sighed affectionately. “Scowling in your sleep? You’re gonna get wrinkles.” Then, because he could, he pressed a little kiss between Barou’s eyebrows. With a satisfied little giggle to himself, Aryu whispered, “Love you,” then snuggled next to him as glamly as possible and went to sleep.

Barou jolted out of a fitful sleep ready to tear into whoever dared backhand him awake.

A few seconds later he realized it was Aryu and it had been completely unintentional, judging by the fact Aryu still snoozed away next to him, sprawled out.

With an annoyed eyeroll, Barou grumbled, “Quit posing in your sleep, you weirdo,” and carefully captured Aryu’s long arms and wrapped him up, securing him against his chest and tucking Aryu under his chin.

“There, now you won’t be flailing around,” Barou muttered, settling back in, arms full of Aryu who just sighed happily in his sleep.

Several days later Barou had a couple of surprise but very welcome visitors: his little twin sisters.

“Nii-chan!” Sayuri and Sumire said in unison, jumping into Barou’s open arms.

“My girls!” Barou crowed, crushing his sisters in a hug.

“Nii-chan gives the best hugs,” Sayuri wheezed.

“Of course I do, I’m the best at everything!”

“Like a big angry bear,” Sumire agreed happily.

“I’ll show you a big angry bear,” Barou growled, squeezing them tighter, getting giggles and more dramatic wheezing in response.

“Oh but Jyu-chan gives great hugs too,” Sumire said as Barou released them. “With those long arms of his.”

“Like a overly affectionate straitjacket!” Sayuri chirped.

“Or a really cuddly boa constrictor!”

Barou snorted; those comparisons were pretty on the mark. Barou’s little twin sisters adored their older brother (as they should!) and the only person they loved even close to as much as their big brother…was Aryu.

And of course, Aryu had been absolutely smitten with them since the day they met. Why wouldn’t he be? They were Barou’s precious little twin sisters, the two cutest, smartest, most perfect girls in the world!

Looking back on it, they’d still been just sweet little things when they’d first met Aryu—fourteen? Fifteen, maybe? And Aryu being…Aryu…it took all of three seconds for them to be “besties” and that hadn’t changed in all this time. Now they’d not only graduated from university but were working adults—

Fuck. Time flies.

“Where is Jyu-chan?” Sumire asked.

“Is he here?” Sayuri glanced around.

“No, he’s off shopping with Chigiri for their next video or something,” Barou answered. Aryu had been damn near giddy after getting a new model to play with this last month or so, especially since Chigiri could wear all the cute, frilly shit that Barou couldn’t.

“Aw, I wanna go shopping!” Sayuri pouted.

“I’m sure he’d let you tag along,” Barou said. “Text him and find out where he is—”

“Next time,” Sumire said. She and Sayuri shared a look, both giving a resolved little nod before turning their gaze full-force on their brother. “We came to talk to you today.”

Something about the way they said that and their determined little faces made Barou feel more than a bit uncomfortable.

“Is something wron—”

“When are you gonna get married?” the twins said in unison, stern and glaring.

“What?!”

“Isn’t it about time you proposed?” Sayuri said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What are you waiting for?” Sumire added, hands on her hips.

“Why is everyone obsessed with marriage all of a sudden? Is it in the air or something? Was there a documentary? It’s not like we can contribute to the declining birth rate so—”

“Ohmygosh, if you could though!” Sayuri squealed.

“Their little babies would be sooo adorable!” Sumire agreed excitedly.

“So glam!”

“You’d be such a great mom, Nii-chan!”

“Why am I the mom?” Barou bellowed, unable to interrupt fast enough.

Both sisters just gave him an identical look, each with one eyebrow raised.

“He’s the—the—” Barou fumbled, giving an annoyed wave. “The sparkly one.”

“You’re obviously the mom, Nii-chan,” Sayuri said.

“It’s not like an insult to your overwhelming manliness or anything,” Sumire added. “But think about it—who’s the one saying ‘clean your room’ ‘brush your teeth’ ‘wash your hands’ ‘make your bed’? You’re definitely the mom.”

“I am definitely not the mom and we are not having kids and not getting—” Barou stopped to think, but it didn’t matter because Sumire chose that moment to interrupt anyway.

“Why not?” she pressed. “Don’t you love each other?”

“He loves you!” Sayuri insisted.

Barou resented the heat flooding his cheeks. His little sisters used to be so cute and sweet; when did they get so nosy and shameless?!

“We don’t talk about that stuff!” Barou protested.

“Why not—” Sumire asked again.

“Because we don’t need to!” Barou nearly roared. His sisters didn’t bat an eye, immune to his volume and bluster. “We, uh…we don’t need to,” he said again, a bit more controlled this time. “We’re fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Sumire said firmly.

“Maybe you’re fine, Nii-chan,” Sayuri said. “But that doesn’t mean Jyu-chan’s fine. You two have been together longer than we’ve been alive—”

Barou glared back nonplussed. “That is not even remotely true. Nice try.”

“Okay,” Sumire picked up where Sayuri left off. “Maybe not quite that long—”

“But it’s a decade if you round up!” Sayuri insisted.

“Don’t you want to?” Sumire asked with a sad frown.

In rare form, Barou tossed the hot potato to the person who wasn’t here to defend himself one way other the other: “What makes you think Aryu wants to?”

Again, the twins leveled him with flat stares.

“Nii-chan…” Sumire sighed, sounding truly dismayed.

“…of course he wants to,” Sayuri continued. “Just look at him. He would be the most beautiful bride!”

“Wait—I’m the mom but he’s the bride?” Barou asked, confused.

“You said you didn’t want to be the mom,” Sayuri pointed out.

“You said he’s the sparkly one,” Sumire said at the same time.

“He’s all about glam and a wedding would be the glam-est!”

“You two would look so stylish the whole crowd would swoon.”

“Listen,” Barou said. “Aryu’s never been shy about spouting whatever nonsense comes to mind and he’s never once brought up getting married. So don’t you think—”

“Maybe because you’d call it nonsense!” the girls admonished.

“You’re focusing on the wrong part!” Barou growled. “If this was something he even remotely wanted, he would’ve already pestered me incessantly about it!”

There was glorious silence for just a moment as they pondered.

“What about you, Nii-chan?” Sumire asked finally. “What do you want?”

“Do you really not want to get married?” Sayuri asked with a serious frown. “Are you really that against it?”

“I…” Barou crossed his arms over his chest and humphed a little, glancing away. “I’ve never really thought about it,” he admitted in a mumble.

Which was true. Up until everyone and their dog was suddenly so invested in bugging him about it, Barou had not once thought about it. It wasn’t even that he was actually against it—it had genuinely just never crossed his mind.

“Nii-chan…” the girls sighed, sharing a look that conveyed just how disappointed they were in their otherwise-perfect brother.

Before they could elaborate, a very familiar, “I’m ho~me!” sing-songed from the entryway.

Fortunately Barou was saved by the man in question, his relief at being rescued from this painful conversation only overshadowed by a slight panic that his sisters would be so brazen as to bring it up directly with Aryu.

“Oho~! What adorable fashionable shoes are these? Do we have glam girly company?”

“Jyu-chan!” the girls squealed, nearly tackling Aryu the second he came around the corner and he immediately wrapped them up in a hug.

Overly affectionate straitjacket indeed.

The corner of Barou’s mouth twitched in a fond smile as Aryu squeezed and gushed, carrying on with some nonsense about how he hadn’t seen them in forever and now that he had, his “glam reservoir was restored and overflowing” or some crap. It seemed like whenever he saw them, whatever goofy shit he came up with was nuttier and more exaggerated than the last.

Though judging by the squeals and giggles, the twins didn’t seem to mind.

“Jyu-chan,” Sayuri marveled, a lock of Aryu’s hair in her fingers. “Your hair looks amazing! You look amazing! What’s your secret?”

“Oh, you noticed?” Aryu asked with a very pleased, smug little smile and flipped his hair over his shoulder. The girls oohed, extra dazzled. “I might’ve gotten to try Takaramono Spa’s latest offerings.”

Ahh, Aryu had said something the other day about a spa date, didn’t he? Barou had noticed he’d come home looking a little…shinier? than usual, but never said anything. And Barou had still been distracted with Kunigami’s gross blabbering about Chigiri so the fact that there was anything theoretically special about their little meetup had slipped Barou’s mind.

The girls gasped in jealous unison.

“What?!”

“No way, are you serious?”

“I heard it’s super elite, super posh, super…”

“Super super!” Sayuri nearly bounced up and down in her excitement to hear about it. “Is it really as amazing as everyone says? It must be—you look soooo good! Isn’t it so elite that it’s booked solid—

“—how did you even get an appointment?”

Aryu flipped his hair again, practically sparkling. “Oh, I might be friends with the owner. Y’know. Nothing major.”

“Nagi Reo?!” they screeched. “You’re friends with the Reo?”

“He’s married, you know,” Barou said in monotone, more than happy to burst their bubbles. Besides, he knew Reo too, alright! (And his pain-in-the-ass husband!) What was so special about that? Just because he was obscenely rich and owned a fancy-schmancy spa and some other useless crap?

“We know!” Sumire said with a scowl. “That’s what makes him even better! He and his husband are sooo cute!”

“It’s not like we want him; we want to admire them from afar!”

“He and his husband are a set!” Sumire said adamantly.

“Besides, he’s not even our type,” Sayuri finished with an eyeroll.

“Oho?” Aryu perked up, interested in girl talk. “What is your type then?”

“Kunigami-kun,” the girls said in unison.

“Kunigami?” Barou yelped.

“He’s got that cute boy-next-door charm,” Sumire explained.

“But with mouthwatering sex god muscles,” Sayuri added.

“Mouthwatering what muscles?” Barou choked.

“Now, Sho-chan, don’t have a heart attack—” Aryu warned.

“Did you just hear what came out of her mouth? What has happened to my sisters?”

“I know this will surprise you, but they are adult women,” Aryu said with exaggerated seriousness. “And they’re not wrong; Kunigami has a lot of fans.”

“More all the time, I’ll bet,” Sayuri said.

“He has gotten even hotter recently.” Sumire fanned herself. “Sexponentially hotter.”

“How can you say this shit about your best friend’s brother?!” Barou yelled, feeling the vein in his forehead throbbing.

“We’d let Reiko-chan say this stuff about you,” Sumire said innocently.

“If she wanted,” Sayuri said. “But she knows you and Aryu are together so it would have to be a very clinical lusting from the shadows.”

Aryu chose to interrupt before Barou blew a gasket at the word lusting. “But Kunigami is also seeing someone..?”

Sumire and Sayuri sighed in dramatic unison.

“Reiko-chan already told us,” Sayuri said, deflated.

“And we’ve seen the evidence on the workout videos,” Sumire said.

“The hickeys, the scratches,” Sayuri elaborated a bit unnecessarily. “The bites—”

“—his man is suuuper possessive.”

“And super cute. Reiko-chan showed us a pic.”

“We can’t compete with that.”

“Oi,” Barou snapped. “You two are Barous and you’re related to me. You can compete with anyone anytime at anything and win. Don’t ever let me hear you say that again.”

The twins and Aryu shared a look, all of them pressing their lips together fighting a smile.

“What?” Barou barked. “What’s that look fo—”

“We love you, nii-chan!” the girls said together, throwing their arms around him.

“Still,” Barou mumbled. “You shouldn’t go after Kunigami. He’s…he looks like a nice guy but he’s kind of a freak. He’s not good enough for my little sisters. You can do way better.”

“Yes, nii-chan,” they promised.

“Stay away from soccer players,” Barou warned. “Current or former.”

“We’ll find someone great,” Sayuri said.

“Someone super nice and super hot,” Sumire added.

“Like Jyu-chan!” they said at the same time.

“Moi?” Aryu gasped, batting his eyelashes and pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m so flattered! To be in this forbidden love triangle…love square?! of gorgeous siblings, what am I to do, it’s so dramatically glam I might just die~”

“Oi. He’s a soccer player too,” Barou said flatly, ignoring Aryu’s over-the-top theatrics.

“But the only person good enough for us would be someone good enough for you, right?” Sayuri asked sweetly.

“You’re not funny—”

The girls laughed, each grabbing one of Aryu’s hands and tugging him along.

“C’mon, Jyu-chan,” Sumire said. “Tell us all about your spa day, we want to hear every little detail.”

“Hey, where are you taking him?” Barou asked, panicked. He wasn’t genuinely afraid his sisters would do anything unseemly but he still hadn’t forgotten their earlier very uncomfortable conversation about marriage and he didn’t put it past them to bring it up.

However, it was Aryu who answered. “Don’t worry, Sho-chan. We’re just going to talk about spas…and the adorable boutiques Chigiri and I visited today.”

Knowing exactly why her brother was uneasy, Sayuri chimed in, “We won’t have time to talk about anything else.”

“Why talk about you when we can talk about seaweed wraps and cute clothes?” Sumire asked.

“Oh, you two!” Aryu tittered. “The two glam little sisters I never had! How am I so lucky!”

“Ah, I love them so much!” Aryu sighed contentedly much later, after the twins had left. “If they really were serious about pursuing me I’d be in a real pickle, they’re too darling, how would I resist?”

Barou just grunted.

That wasn’t the reaction Aryu expected. Where was the bluster, the indignation? The hopefully sexy wrestling after Aryu promised he was just joking?

“I’m kidding, Sho-chan,” Aryu said, smiling uncertainly. “You’re my one and only, you know that.”

It took Barou’s brain a second to catch up.

“I’m—” I am? Are you sure? he almost asked, then stopped at the last minute, clearing his throat. “Of course I am,” he gruffed.

“You know, Chigiri, while I’m more than happy to help…are you really sure I should be seeing this?” Aryu asked.

“We should be seeing this?” Reo asked flatly.

“I need an objective opinion and I trust your fashion sense,” Chigiri called from behind the dressing room curtain. A second later, he confidently yanked it open, standing there in all of his sheer lacy lingerie glory. “And besides, Reo—you own this place, why are you acting so scandalized?”

“Just because I own it doesn’t mean I personally approve all the merchandise!” Reo hissed, trying to look anywhere but at scantily-clad Chigiri.

“Maybe you should,” Chigiri said with a little frown, looking down at himself and giving the bodice a tug. “Because this doesn’t fit quite right. I don’t think it’s up to your quality standards.”

“You can definitely do better,” Aryu agreed. Chigiri was blessed with a body that looked good in anything and Aryu was sure that Kunigami would be happy to undress his adorable boyfriend regardless of whether he wore expensive lingerie or a burlap sack. But if Chigiri wanted his opinion, he was serious about giving it—his glam reputation was on the line.

And if this was post-proposal/proposal acceptance celebration lingerie, then it really needed to be spectacular.

“Toss it to the side and I’ll have the manager look at it later,” Reo sighed. “Try the next one.”

“He sure does have a sweet little bum, doesn’t he?” Ba-Ya observed as Chigiri tromped back into the dressing room and shut the curtain behind him. “Pert and perky as can be.”

“Ba-Ya!”

“He does,” Aryu agreed, ignoring Reo. “It’s almost unfair how adorable he is—looks good in anything. Or nothing, as it may be.”

Ba-Ya hummed, considering. “I do prefer ‘em with a bit more meat, though,” she shared. “Give me something to grab onto; I want a handful.”

“Oh, glam on, Ba-Ya!” Aryu said, eyes lighting up. “Totally! I couldn’t agree more!”

“I am not listening to this,” Reo said flatly.

“Oh, Aryu’s got a handful in more ways than one!” Chigiri called, eavesdropping on their girl talk as he changed into the next piece. “Show her a pic, Aryu!”

Aryu didn’t have to be told twice; he had a plethora of Barou albums in his phone for just this purpose.

“Oh my,” Ba-Ya gasped, putting on her glasses to get a better look. “This one’s yours?”

“He’s mine,” Aryu said, puffing up proudly. For all of his alleged refusing to listen, Reo snorted.

“Isn’t he gorgeous!” Ba-Ya gushed, flipping through the photos on Aryu’s phone. “Look at those muscles…makes you want to just take a bite, don’t they?”

Aryu sighed happily, taking Ba-Ya’s free hand in both of his. “Glam, Ba-Ya-san. You and I are kindred spirits, I can tell.”

“Don’t fall in love too fast, Ba-Ya,” Reo warned wryly. “The King happens to be a tyrant.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Aryu said sweetly.

Ba-Ya sighed sadly. “Have to listen to him,” she stage whispered. “I’m contractually obligated.”

“He’s a dictator, emphasis on dick!” Chigiri called, throwing out one outfit, rejecting it without needing their input and moving onto the next.

“Don’t talk about the young master that way!” Aryu hollered back.

Chigiri laughed. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Don’t say ‘dick’ in front of Ba-Ya!” Reo nearly screeched.

“I’m modeling sexy lingerie for her and you’re scandalized at the word ‘dick’?” Chigiri asked incredulously.

“He’s got a point, young master. His little weenie’s about to slip right out in front of God and everybody and you’re worried about some coarse language?” Ba-Ya agreed.

“Ba-Ya!” Reo gasped. “That’s it, no more fashion show, Chigiri, you can decide on your own—”

“Wait one second, did you dare just say I’m little?” Chigiri asked incredulously, focusing on the offense and ignoring Reo completely. “Then again, I guess compared to Kunigami…”

“Even when his manhood’s on the line, he still manages to talk up his boyfriend,” Aryu noted wryly.

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Ba-Ya assured Chigiri. “And I’ve been taking care of the young master since he was in diapers; this old woman’s seen more than her share of weenies over the years, little or otherwise—”

“Ba-Ya!” Reo outright shrieked, even as Chigiri howled with laughter from the dressing room.

“—so I’m not going to get ruffled by crude euphemisms, is all I’m saying,” Ba-Ya said, a mischievous glint in her eye as she pretended Reo wasn’t having an apoplectic fit. “And I’m still quite intrigued by this manly lingerie. I’ve never seen such a thing.”

“Isn’t it fun?” Aryu agreed. “Nothing like a pretty little something to spice things up.”

“Some of it is really quite lovely! I could watch this for hours.”

“‘Hours’ will be a conservative estimate, knowing Chigiri,” Reo grumped, giving up on his dramatic indignation. “We’ll be lucky if this fashion show doesn’t take days—”

“Now that’s an idea,” Aryu said, eyes alight. “Chigiri should be your model for your advertising campaign.”

“I have an advertising campaign..?” Reo asked warily.

“You should,” Chigiri said, finally opening the curtain and showing off an eyeful of shiny black vinyl. “Especially once you pull some of this stuff that isn’t up to snuff and revamp your offerings.”

“Ooh, what about starting your own line, Reo?” Aryu said, getting excited. “You have the opinion of an expert on sexy, skimpy clothes right there. He can be a consultant and the face of the initial wave of advertising.”

“Speaking of,” Chigiri said, giving a couple of steps and doing a spin. “How’s this? Too slutty?”

“Not quite occasion appropriate,” Ba-Ya offered. “Your bum still looks amazing though.”

“Aw, thanks!” Chigiri said, flashing a cute smile and doing a sweet little pose totally at odds with his devilish black vinyl corset.

“Mm. A bit too skanky,” Aryu agreed.

Chigiri sighed, then gave a firm nod. “No worries. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Far be it from this old lady to give you business advice, Master Reo,” Ba-Ya said. “But I think these young men might be onto something with that idea of theirs.”

“I’ll think about it,” Reo begrudgingly replied.

“What about you, young man?” Ba-Ya asked Aryu. Seeing Aryu’s confusion, she elaborated, “You’re a skinny little thing. You don’t model?”

Aryu couldn’t help but snort; at his height he hadn’t been called little in a long time.

“No, I prefer to be the one behind the glamera—er, camera,” Aryu said with a stiff smile. Truth be told, he had very briefly considered picking out something for himself but…

What would be the point? Barou certainly wasn’t the type to even notice—or care.

Which was fine! It’s not like Aryu expected anything else, and maybe their sex life was just plenty satisfying as it was that they didn’t need cheap tricks like frills and satin and lace…

Although…

Even if Barou didn’t want to see him in any such thing, Aryu would love to see Barou in sexy lingerie. With his decadent, plush pecs, those cute little nipples playing peekaboo behind red lace? Or a wicked leather corset snug over those delicious abs, cinched across that gorgeous back? Or what about shimmering gold satin straining over mouthwatering thighs (or the luscious treasure bulging between)?

Hell, even just a simple white jock strap to frame his perfect ass!

Reo snorted, (fortunately) interrupting Aryu’s runaway fantasizing. “Dunno which Barou would be more jealous of—his man on full display or the fact that he’s not the one getting all the attention.”

Aryu doubted it would be either in this case but at least Reo’s comment gave him the opportunity to deflect the conversation away from him.

“Ah, I didn’t think about that…will that be a problem, Chigiri? If you model lingerie will Kunigami get jealous?” Aryu asked.

Chigiri giggled. “He’ll say he’s not jealous, but he totally will be. But that just means really hot, rough, possessive sex and we’re all good.” He stepped out of the dressing room, one hand on his hip and the other giving an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

“Oh doesn’t that sound delightful,” Ba-Ya commented sweetly.

“Super delightful, Ba-Ya,” Chigiri said with a confident nod.

“Why doesn’t he model too?” Ba-Ya suggested, a little too innocent to be believable. “With a physique like his, I imagine he’d be quite popular. Plus you’ve already spoken for his generous endowments.”

“Ba-Ya…” Chigiri waggled a finger. “I know what you’re doing. Quit trying to get your eyeballs on my Rensuke’s very generous endowments—”

“Can’t blame an old woman for trying,” Ba-Ya said sweetly.

Chigiri laughed. “And while Rensuke may say he doesn’t get jealous, I gladly admit to it. No one is seeing him in lingerie but me.” Chigiri pretended to snarl. “As it is, he better start wearing shirts when he guests on Barou’s workout channel.”

“Fair enough, fair enough. I wouldn’t share him either if I were you.”

“That one’s pretty glam,” Aryu said, evaluating Chigiri’s latest outfit, wispy and fluttering in shades of dusty rose and pale lilac. “Though it might be more suitable for the honeymoon than the proposal.”

“I thought so too!” Chigiri agreed, giving a little spin. “But it’s cute, right?”

“Like a fairy princess,” Ba-Ya offered. “Er, prince?”

“Princess is plenty accurate,” Reo said flatly. “Hey, Chigiri, I hate to burst your bubble, but aren’t the actual rings more important than the post-engagement lingerie?”

“Says you!”

“Yeah, says me, which is why I’m asking!”

Chigiri flashed an impish little grin. “The rings are important…which is why you’ll be helping me with those after we’re done here.”

“Why does exercise take so much effort?” Nagi lamented with a heavy sigh. He glared at the towel in his hand, as if it was somehow its fault that it couldn’t just spontaneously animate and wipe his face of its own accord.

“I’m not wiping your face for you,” Barou said bluntly.

Nagi tch’ed. “Stingy.”

Barou rolled his eyes but Kunigami just laughed and took the towel from Nagi’s hand then dabbed the sweat off Nagi’s upturned face.

“See, Kunigami will do it—”

“Because he’s a pushover.”

“No, because he’s nice.”

“No, it’s actually because I need a favor,” Kunigami admitted.

Nagi cringed. “Like…how hard of a favor..?”

Kunigami snorted. “One that will take minimal energy on your behalf, don’t worry—”

“Whew,” Nagi exhaled in dramatic relief. “Ah, lemme guess: it’s about Chigiri?”

“Yeah. I wanna go ring shopping—”

“Ooooh.”

“Why do you need Nagi’s help to go ring shopping?” Barou asked. His hatred of all this romantic bullshit warred directly with his need to be the best at everything; anything that slacker Nagi could do, he could do a hundred times better! Wasn’t he technically Kunigami’s friend? Why hadn’t Kunigami asked him? “Just because I don’t need to buy stupid rings doesn’t mean I don’t have excellent taste.”

“I wanted Nagi because he’s friends with Chigiri and knows his style,” Kunigami explained patiently. “And, more importantly, because he’s married to Reo…and therefore can recruit Reo into making sure we don’t accidentally run into Chigiri.”

Barou humphed and glanced away, maybe feeling a little foolish.

“No problem, Chief,” Nagi said with a halfhearted salute. “Nagi Seishiro, Chigiri consultant and ring picker outer, at your service.”

“Good luck with that,” Barou scoffed.

“Don’t be jealous. We’re friends too. Uh, kinda. I’ll help you ring shop too, maybe we can get a bogo—”

“I don’t need your help!” Barou snapped.

“Why? You already have rings?”

“No, because I’m not proposing—” Barou gritted out, feeling the vein in his temple throb.

“Why don’t you go for it, King?” Nagi suggested, as if they were talking about buying new dishes or trying a new laundry soap rather than marriage. “How long have you two been dating, anyway?”

Kunigami snickered, knowing the answer that was coming.

Shooting a glare at that asshole Kunigami, Barou said nonchalantly, “Eight or nine years. Ish.”

Nagi frowned and glanced at Kunigami who just gave him a very satisfied see? told you look, as if Barou wasn’t standing right there able to see the whole thing.

“Ish?” Nagi repeated, face blatantly judging.

“What?” Barou snapped. “You’re really gonna tell me your lazy ass knows how long you two have been together?”

“My lazy ass knows,” Nagi said flatly. “How can you really not know how long you’ve been together? When’s your anniversary?”

“Anniversary?” Barou echoed uncomfortably. “We don’t have one.”

“That’s not possible,” Nagi asked bluntly. “How do you celebrate the anniversary of when you started dating?”

Barou scoffed. “Who the hell celebrates an anniversary of when they started dating? No one pays attention to something like that—”

Kunigami ugly-snorted as he quite unsuccessfully fought back a laugh.

Nagi just sighed very loudly and shook his head, rendered speechless at the lost cause in front of him.

“You’re just fucking with me,” Barou said, maybe getting a little panicky for some reason. This had to be some elaborate joke, right? Kunigami put him up to this, maybe? “Dating anniversary isn’t a real thing. You can’t tell me you know—”

“I know all our anniversaries,” Nagi cut him off.

“All?” Barou frowned. “There’s more than one?”

Nagi stared back flatly and started reciting them in that monotone way of his. “Meeting-in-the-stairwell anniversary. First time we played soccer together anniversary. Dating anniversary—which we celebrated monthly until we hit the first year mark. First kiss anniversary. First handjob. First bj. First I-love-you. The all-important sex-iversary. Anniversary of the proposal. Anniversary of when we actually got married—”

Barou was reeling. “Y-you really keep track of all that? That shit’s that important to you?”

“Honestly? No, it’s not,” Nagi said. “But it’s important to Reo and he’s important to me. Remembering those dates and celebrating those things makes him happy so…” Nagi smiled, sweet and lazy. “I’ll remember those dates and celebrate those things.”

He looked down and patted his stomach. “Just like how, even though I hate exercise, I’m here in secret working out because I know Reo loves my abs.”

“Why in secret?” Kunigami asked before Barou could.

“Because Reo knows I hate exercise. If he knew I actually had to work out to look like this, he’d say something like…” Nagi cleared his throat theatrically before proceeding with his ‘Reo voice’,  “‘Oh, don’t exercise just for me, my treasure. Stay home and roll around like a little panda; here, I’ll buy you a new game! I love you with a little jelly belly mochi tummy, I’d love you if you were perfectly round, like a jiggly Nagi ball. How about some cake?’” Nagi resumed his deadpan expression and flat monotone. “Something like that.”

“Your Reo impersonation is spot on,” Kunigami laughed. “It’s almost eerie.”

“That whole thing was creepy in more ways than one,” Barou agreed, slightly repulsed.

“Anyway, if he thinks I’m just magically ripped like that all the time, he can enjoy them guilt-free,” Nagi explained.

“Magic six pack,” Kunigami pondered. “Niiice.”

“I’m assuming you were born with one, so it’s not that far-fetched, right?”

Ignoring their stupid banter about abs, Barou frowned; none of this shit made sense and it sounded way too complicated. Never before had he been so relieved that he and Aryu didn’t bother with these weird elaborate headgames.

“Can’t say it ever occurred to me to work out for someone else,” Barou groused. “Don’t tell me that’s the only reason you still show up, Kunigami.”

“Well, no…I actually really like working out—”

“Freak,” Nagi muttered.

“But…building muscle in the right spots definitely has its perks.”

“Perks?” Barou repeated, immediately regretting it.

“Well, like…yeah. In the morning I make breakfast or coffee and, well, Chigiri’s not a morning person. So he’ll kinda wander into the kitchen all cute and sleepy-like and then snuggle his face between my shoulder blades and kinda wrap his arms around and then his hands just…” Kunigami made a grabby motion in front of his own chest. “His hands just kinda gravitate there automatically.”

“Ah, the classic ‘boob in the hand is worth two in the bush’ trick,” Nagi said with a knowing nod. “But joke’s on you—he sneaks one in the bush too, huh?”

“I am not dignifying that with an answer,” Kunigami said, the pink tinging the tips of his ears plenty answer enough.

Nagi laughed, standing up and shaking his head, scattering sweat droplets all over. “Better watch out; Chigiri moves fast. He’ll be pulling out the ol’ naked apron pretty soon.”

“Trust me,” Kunigami said with an insincere smile. “He is already a professional at naked apron.”

Grossed out and suffering from way too much TMI these days, Barou groaned, “I need to find new workout partners.”

“As if anyone else would put up with you,” Kunigami teased.

“Hey!” Barou barked. “I’m not the one who’s hard to put up with! After all, Aryu’s been with me—”

“Eight or nine years ish,” Nagi finished for him. “Which is why I’m telling you, if you like it you shoulda put a ring on it.”

Barou stared back at Nagi, still trying to decipher the alien language coming out of his mouth. Was that from a video game or something? “What?”

Nagi just smiled his little Nagi-smile. “Kunigami, you explain. I gotta go before Reo beats me home.”

“Ah, Chigiri took longer than expected lingerie shopping,” Aryu explained when he finally got home. “Oh—don’t tell Kunigami, though, please; I don’t think he’s supposed to know.”

“No worries, there; I have less than zero desire to talk about lingerie with Kunigami,” Barou grumbled. Noticing that Aryu wasn’t packing in any shopping bags of his own, he started to ask, “You didn’t…” Why didn’t you buy any lingerie?

Well, why would he? Really, it was silly and largely unnecessary; Aryu already looked best naked so what was the point of lingerie? But if Chigiri looked good in it, Aryu would definitely look even more amazing. Long and lean, Aryu’s body was truly elegant and beautiful. He wasn’t built like Barou at all, being sleek rather than muscular, but their bodies fit together perfectly and Barou had always found that incredibly hot.

“I didn’t what?” Aryu prompted.

“Uh…you didn’t eat dinner yet, did you?”

“No, and I’m starving!” Aryu wailed. “That little shit Chigiri wouldn’t let us eat for some reason, kept insisting he had to make dinner for Kunigami at home. Or maybe Kunigami was making dinner for him? Either way.”

“Ah, the classic ‘boob in the hand is worth two in the bush’ trick. But joke’s on you—he sneaks one in the bush too, huh?” and “Trust me. He is already a professional at naked apron” flashed through Barou’s mind.

“Either way,” Barou repeated, giving his head a little shake and wishing for brain bleach. “Either way, let’s eat.”

Barou had an angry headache and way too much shit to think about and it was all his stupid friends’ fault.

So he took it out on the dishes.

He and Aryu had been doing fine. Fine! Hell, they’d been together…a long time (did it really fucking matter how many years? huh?!) and were successful and happy and all sorts of stuff. But nooo…those dickheads had to ruin it with their questions and pestering about marriage and anniversaries and oversharing about hugs-from-behind while cooking dinner and getting groped in the morning making breakfast and naked aprons and—

Was that actually fucking normal?

If…if that was a thing, then why hadn’t Aryu ever brought it up? Tried it? Done it?

Yeah, okay, he’d already figured Aryu was smart enough to know that kitchen shenanigans were definitely off limits—one didn’t bother Barou while cooking or cleaning. And Aryu did do some of the cooking but Barou would probably yell at him for being unsafe if he was fucking around with some naked apron bullshit.

Okay, no, the issue wasn’t the lack of kitchen fuckery. The problem was much bigger than that.

When faced with the recent inexplicable inundation of pestering, Barou had told everyone that if Aryu wanted to get married, it sure as hell would’ve been brought up already.

Which was true.

But it wasn’t until Barou really thought about it that he realized that while it was true, not once in the past eight…nine…ten (?) years had Aryu ever brought it up. And if it was something Aryu really wanted, it would have been brought up to an obnoxiously unavoidable degree.

So…why hadn’t Aryu ever mentioned it?

Did Aryu not want to marry him?

Was that even possible? Barou was The King—who wouldn’t be falling over themselves trying to propose?

(His boyfriend, apparently.)

Barou had never really been all that into the term “boyfriend.” Yeah, sure that’s what they were…but it just sounded too cutesy and dumb. Like something Chigiri and Kunigami would get excited over. He and Aryu weren’t like that.

They weren’t cutesy or cuddly or lovey-dovey.

The more he thought about it, the more he was uncomfortably reminded of some of those godawful stories his sisters read—the ones where the two guys did everything together and his sisters would squeal, “oh my god, everyone knows they’re dating but them!”

Only…this was kind of the reverse, wasn’t it? Barou thought he and Aryu were dating and had been for years. But what did they do that was even relationship-like? Were they actually even dating this whole time? Or were they just two friends who slept in the same bed and had monogamous, really satisfying sex on the regular?

Is that why Aryu didn’t ever mention wanting to get married? Because he’d known the whole time what Barou only now figured out—they weren’t a couple but just friends with (fucking hot) benefits?!

Aryu hadn’t wanted to admit it but something was seriously wrong.

At first he thought it was just comparing his very steady, long-term relationship with the fire and gusto of his friends who had just gotten together. But Barou had seemed a bit off for a couple weeks and it was only getting worse by the day.

How many times recently had Aryu caught him staring off into space at the kitchen table or while watching tv? He watched him wash the same plate for five minutes the other night—the man was anal retentive when it came to cleaning but even for him that was way too long!

And then there were the half-finished sentences, Barou either trailing off in thought or stopping himself short, changing what he was going to say at the last minute:

“Why don’t—”

“I’m—”

“You didn’t…”

What had he been about to say all those times? Barou didn’t stutter, didn’t hesitate, didn’t trail off or mince words. So why was he doing it all the time now? What was he holding back?

Aryu’s thoughts started spiraling out of control.

“You didn’t clean the bathtub correctly.”

No, Barou would hardly hold back on that one.

“You didn’t edit the last video very well, I look like ass.”

No, Aryu always edited so Barou was his most stunning. Always.

“You didn’t perform very glam the last time we had sex.”

Wait, no, that couldn’t be it, they had great sex! Oh, shit, when was the last time—

“You didn’t perform very glam the last time we had sex. I’m disappointed, unsatisfied, and tired of you. Why don’t—”

No, don’t say it!

“Why don’t we break up?”

No no no…that couldn’t be it, could it?

But once Aryu pieced it together, he couldn’t unpiece it.

Really, what else could it be?

All the distraction, the half-finished sentences, the avoided eye contact and awkward air between them. It was a thing that happened in friend groups—sometimes friends getting married would cause a domino effect of their other friends finally getting hitched.

…but quite often it caused the complete opposite. All the wedding bells in the air brought unmarried couples’ issues front and center and they ended up breaking up under the pressure.

After all, they’d been together eight years, seven months, and twenty-four days. Of course Barou would be getting tired of him after all this time! How blissfully ignorant had Aryu been to think Barou—a self-proclaimed King—would be satisfied with this! Things had been going so deceptively well for so long—Aryu just knew they were made for each other, so why wouldn’t he think they’d be together forever? They looked absolutely radiant, stunning, glam together and they had the best, most fulfilling sex but that didn’t mean it was enough!

Well.

It had been enough for Aryu…

And it wasn’t just the extremely satisfying, soul-completing sex or the fact they looked phenomenal walking down the street together. Aryu loved the Barou dedicated to constantly improving, as serious about his bicep circumference as he was about making the bed (without wrinkles in the sheets!) every morning. The Barou who was hardworking and sincere…and swung kids around in circles, hanging two from each arm. The Barou whose voice was sex itself and whose smile still just about made Aryu squint from its overwhelming beauty every time he saw it.

The first time he heard Barou laugh, he thought he might ascend on the spot.

How many times had Aryu woken up, held so preciously in those strong arms, pressed safely against that warm chest, and thought there was no place in the world he’d rather be? That there was no place else he belonged?

Aryu’s bottom lip quivered and he sniffled.

Had he taken it all for granted?

Should he have said something? Should he still? Was it too late? But Barou didn’t like fluffy sentiments and mushy words—that’s why Aryu had kept all the lovey dovey things to himself all these years! It certainly hadn’t been easy, holding all that in when every day he was so in love all he wanted to do was hug him and squeeze him and lick him and cover him in kisses and shower him with praise from morning to midnight!

No, Barou was stubborn. And decisive and determined. If…if he’d decided they were done, then there was no turning back. Nothing Aryu said would even make him hesitate; if anything, his desperate attempts at salvaging things would irritate him more.

Barou was losing his fucking mind.

Not only was he struggling with wondering whether his boyfriend of…of a significant number of years was even his boyfriend at all this whole time but that same boyfriend was like a little (well, tall and skinny) black raincloud around the house.

A tall and skinny black raincloud that had red-rimmed eyes from crying more than once, which made Barou furious. He was ready to kill whoever had made Aryu cry but when he’d asked Aryu about it—

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Aryu insisted with a wan smile. “I just…got too invested in a book and the way it ended made me cry. That’s all.”

So now not only was Barou furious at whoever made Aryu cry but he was fucking pissed that Aryu lied to him about it.

Not once in the last however many years had Aryu not told him every detail about whatever book he was reading, including the parts that made him cry, blubbering all over again in the retelling.

So why would Aryu lie about this? Who made him cry? Why? And who was it that Aryu couldn’t tell him about it? Why did it seem like Aryu was not-telling him things more and more these days? Was he telling someone else?

Was there…someone else that Aryu liked better?

No, that was impossible. Barou was the King, he was the best! Who could even compare?

But even so…

Why didn’t Aryu talk to him anymore? Didn’t he trust him? Why was he all moody and gloomy and soggy and—

Oh shit.

Barou had a sudden, very uncomfortable thought.

If his friends had been blabbering and bugging him nonstop about marriage, well. His friends were also Aryu’s friends.

…Had they been blabbering and bugging him too?

Was Aryu in tears because he was so upset at the thought of getting married?

It seemed…slightly preposterous but at the same time made perfect sense. The entire time Barou had maintained that if Aryu had wanted to get married, he definitely would’ve mentioned it (excessively) in the past. So the fact that he hadn’t meant that…

Aryu totally didn’t want to.

He dreaded it to the point of tears.

Barou swallowed thickly.

Okay…now he wasn’t confused anymore.

He was pissed.

Ignoring bathing etiquette and privacy boundaries he burst into the bathroom full steam.

“Sho-chan!” Aryu startled in the tub, covering his chest with his hands quite unnecessarily.

“Why don’t you want to marry me?” Barou barked.

Aryu stared back, blinking rapidly in shock. “Eh?”

Okay, now that he’d practically yelled it, echoing off the tile walls, Baoru felt a bit awkward. But it was an important question.

“Why don’t you want to marry me,” Barou asked again, though with less force this time.

“I do,” Aryu replied immediately, nodding vigorously enough that a lock of hair fell free from the bun piled high on top of his head.

“You do?” Barou yelped, surprised and very confused.

“Yes,” Aryu said simply, looking up at him from the bathtub.

“Then…” Barou’s mind was racing and blank all at the same time. “Then why aren’t we?”

“Because you never asked.”

“Well that’s stupid!” Barou roared. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

“I thought if it’s something you wanted, you would’ve asked!” Aryu replied defensively. Then he shrunk down a little in the water and added quietly, “So I assumed you must not want it.”

“Well, I didn’t want it—”

“Then don’t worry about it,” Aryu sulked.

“—but that’s just because I didn’t ever think about it! If you’d asked, then…then I would’ve thought about it, and then I would’ve…” Barou trailed off, looking down at his beautiful boyfriend in the bathtub, covered in suds and staring up at him with his eyes wide and lips parted.

“…I would’ve said yes,” Barou finished.

Aryu’s heart squeezed hopefully. “But still,” he said slowly. “You really never thought about it?”

Barou scrubbed a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of the tub with a sigh.

“No, I didn’t,” Barou admitted. “It seemed a little unnecessary—”

“Unnecessary?” Aryu repeated ominously, debating pushing him off the edge of the tub and hoping his skull cracked on the tile. At least in the bathroom it would be easy to clean up a murder.

Barou scowled at him, but for some reason his cheeks were an uncharacteristic rosy pink.

“I mean,” Barou grumbled, “I never even thought about being with anyone else and just…I just always knew we’d be forever.” He swallowed thickly and glanced away. “I thought you felt the same way but I guess I was wrong—”

Aryu didn’t wait, couldn’t wait—with a high pitched wail he grabbed Barou by those godlike shoulders kissed him, pulling him into the tub with a splash.

“Why didn’t you just say that in the first place!” Aryu said against his lips, happy tears already streaming down his cheeks.

“I thought you knew!” Barou growled back, adjusting himself in the tub to kiss Aryu properly.

With a satisfied little moan, Aryu melted against him. Barou kissed like he was claiming—every shared breath, press of lips, swipe of tongue adamantly proclaiming mine, mine, MINE and Aryu loved it. Especially since it was neither frenzied nor violent, just confident and bold, the promise of MINE…and I will cherish you preciously conveyed in every touch.

How could Aryu ever have doubted when every kiss told him what he most wanted to hear?

He smiled against Barou’s lips; not-kissing had caused so much unnecessary heartache…so he simply needed to resolve to kiss him much much more often.

“Why are you crying when you’re smiling?” Barou groused as Aryu peeled off his soaked t-shirt. Fabric near-transparent, wet and clinging was admittedly delicious but Aryu wanted to taste and touch skin and he wanted it now.

Aryu laughed, flinging Barou’s shirt over to the corner of the bathroom with a wet plop. Licking his lips he ran slippery splayed fingers over Barou’s exposed chest.

“I’m happy,” Aryu said, feeling a little dizzy at the sight, even after all these years. He gave Barou’s pecs a squeeze and thumbed over a nipple before trailing down and tracing over the breathtaking ridges of his abs.

“Because of my muscles?” Barou ventured uncertainly. Sure, Kunigami had said that Chigiri couldn’t resist grabbing his pecs, but he thought maybe they were just weirdos. “You see them like every day, you put them on the internet!”

“I do see them, but this is…” Aryu didn’t bother finishing that sentence, instead gripping Barou’s hips to shift them closer together where Barou straddled his lap. This also made it easier for Aryu to suck lightly on those mouthwatering traps. “I’ve been dying to worship you!”

“Then why didn’t you?!” Barou asked incredulously.

“I…” Why hadn’t he? “I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it,” Aryu mumbled lamely, hiding his face in the crook of Barou’s neck.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re…we’re dating aren’t we?” Barou finished in a rush and hoped Aryu didn’t notice it sounded a bit uncertain.

“Of course! We’ve been dating eight years, seven months, twenty-eight days!”

“So you do know,” Barou muttered. “The…the anniversary.”

“Of course I know.”

“Then why didn’t you put it on the calendar? So I’d know?”

“Did you really care?”

“Well…no. But—but don’t say it like that! Maybe normally I wouldn’t care but I’m not that self-centered. If things are important to people who are important to me, then I do care about stuff.”

“It’s just that there are like two people in the world who are important to you,” Aryu teased.

“Four,” Barou said. “But you’re one of the four, and the only one that isn’t blood-related to me, so…” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “So that makes you pretty special, doesn’t it?”

Aryu grinned, feeling those happy tears welling up again.

“I’m pretty and special—”

“Pretty special, not pretty and special,” Barou corrected, rolling his eyes even as he thumbed at the tear sliding down Aryu’s cheekbone. Not that it really mattered, both of them soaked as they were.

“Can’t I be pretty and special? If I’m the only person special to you that’s not family—”

“I said you’re the only one that isn’t blood-related,” Barou interrupted. “I never said we weren’t family.”

Aryu just stared back for a minute, bottom lip trembling.

“Oh you!” he blubbered. “Am I gonna die today or something? First you say we’re forever and now you say we’re family and…” He gave up with a horny growl and wrapped Barou in a crushing hug, kissing whatever skin was closest to his mouth. “This is so much better than a proposal! I’m gonna die of happiness! My heart is gonna burst and I’m just gonna explode glam everywhere!”

He grabbed Barou’s face in both hands and peppered him with kisses. Barou tried to protest but ended up laughing instead.

“Feels like something else is going to burst before your heart does,” Barou managed to say between kisses, shifting his hips and grinding against Aryu to make it perfectly clear what that something else was.

Aryu nodded shamelessly. “So let’s get out of the tub and get into the bedroom so I can love you before I die—”

“Why not here?”

Aryu blinked back, stunned. Was Barou really suggesting they have se—make beautiful love in the bath? The shower was one thing but…the tub?

“B-b-but the tub will get dirty,” Aryu stammered, wondering if Barou had lost his mind or was perhaps bodysnatched and this was an imposter grinding on his lap because his Barou Shōei did not tolerate filth. “You hate dirty—”

“It can get dirty. We can just clean it later.”

“Sho-chan,” Aryu gasped. “That is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Barou huffed a laugh before leaning closer to purr in Aryu’s ear, “So you don’t need a proposal?”

“No,” Aryu said immediately. “I’m so turned on that if you proposed right now I’ll just glam right here in the water.”

Barou grinned then kissed him tenderly. “Go ahead. We have to clean the tub after anyway.”

Totally Unnecessary Epilogue

“Sorry I’m late!” Kunigami called, jogging into Barou’s gym.

Barou frowned. “Something happen?” Knowing Herogami there was a kitten stuck in a tree or a granny needing help across an intersection or a pregnant woman on the train—not that Kunigami took a train to get here but still.

“Nah,” Kunigami huffed a sheepish laugh, glancing away. “Just, uh…really almost did burn the kitchen down this time.”

Barou snorted and rolled his eyes, annoyed that he’d wasted his concern.

But then he couldn’t help think of this morning after breakfast, standing at the sink doing dishes…

“Is this alright?” Aryu asked tentatively, sliding his arms around Barou’s waist.

“I told you, you don’t have to ask!” Barou barked, heat flooding his cheeks. He cleared his throat and pretended to go back to his dishes. “If I really don’t like something, I’ll tell you.”

“What about this?” Aryu rolled his hips, grinding against Barou’s ass.

Barou just grunted, face aflame.

“Ah, I might just die of happiness,” Aryu sighed blissfully, sliding one hand underneath Barou’s tank top and up to cup a pec with a little squeeze.

“Quit dying at every little thing. You’re really that happy because you can molest me while I’m doing dishes?”

Aryu stilled. “If you really don’t—”

“I just said if I really don’t like it, I’ll tell you,” Barou gruffed. “Don’t…don’t get pouty…just do what you want, alright?”

“But I want you to want it too,” Aryu sulked, nuzzling against Barou’s neck and sneaking his other hand beneath the waistband of his sweats. “I’ll feel bad if you’re not into i—oh.”

“See?” Barou mumbled, pretty sure he’d been washing the same plate this entire time. But with Aryu’s fingers curling around his half-hard—well, it was totally hard now, wasn’t it—

“Yeah, well, almost flooded mine,” Barou grumbled under his breath.

“What?” Kunigami asked with a puzzled frown, certain he couldn’t have heard that correctly.

“Nothing,” Barou said quickly. “I didn’t say anything. You ready to lift or what?”

“You got broken pipes or a water leak or something? How did you…” Kunigami trailed off, noticing a very fresh hickey at the juncture of Barou’s neck when he turned around. “Nevermind,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“What’s that creepy smile for?” Barou bitched. “You coming or not?”

“Yes, King,” Kunigami laughed, catching up to him and clapping him on the shoulder.