Work Text:
Valentine’s Day has never really meant much to you. Up until today, it was simply an excuse to get discounted sweets and free candy from your friends. While the hopeless romantic in you wished deep down to have a romantic Valentine’s, most of them ended with your face stuffed with chocolate reading fanfictions.
However this year, you’re at work, continuously glancing down at your bag containing the chocolates you painstakingly made late last night. And with every glance, regret seeped into your every orifice.
‘What was I thinking?’ You internally whine, kicking your bag under the desk and out of view. With that, you attempt to continue eating at your computer, but every once in a while your thoughts drift to the man you had in mind when you’d made the chocolates.
It’d be so easy to just give them to him. After all, with a swivel of your head you could already see gifts piling up at his desk while he’s out.
'But of course,' You think, refraining from slamming your fist into your desk as you force yourself to look away. 'I had to be a dumbass and include a letter with mine!'
A confession letter, to be exact. All of your intense affections and emotions you’d haphazardly scrawled out on paper and threw in the bag before you could think twice and regret it.
And boy, were you regretting it now.
You got here at 8am. It’s now noon— lunchtime. Your shift ends at 3pm. Three more hours, and you could hightail it out of here without Mr. Nanami knowing so much as a thing. It was so tempting, to cover everything up in hopes it would go away as quickly as your feelings had festered.
“Excuse me...”
Your thoughts are interrupted by a sudden call of your name. Your eyes whip up to its source above your cubicle wall, a muscular arm draped across it and sharp eyes piercing yours.
“M-Mr. Nanami.” The embarrassment overwhelms you as you look up at him for the first time today. He looked the same as always, though he’s abandoned his suit jacket at his desk and rolled up the sleeves of his blue dress shirt. In the name of keeping appearances, you smile up at him in what you hope is a convincing manner. “Happy Friday. What’s up?”
Wordlessly, the blonde man brings his other arm over your cubicle, your eyes drawn to the matte black box in his hand. All of a sudden your tummy stirs with anticipation. Nanami sets it down on your desk in front of you, and all the air leaves you.
“I made the biscuits you wanted to try last week,” He points down at the container. “To thank you for the macarons.”
The bubbling anticipation you felt in your gut dissipates in an instant. Of course that’s what it was, what were you thinking? That the famously aloof Nanami Kento had gotten you a Valentine’s gift out of the blue? Only you would be so crazy as to think that, nevermind having done it yourself.
“O-oh! Thank you so much, you didn’t have to.” You abandon your own lunch immediately, hands finding the lid to the box as you remember the scent of those biscuits. They smelled so freaking good, and it was the only thing on your mind all of last week after Nanami brought them in as his lunch.
You and Nanami have a special situation going on for lunchtime at work. You don’t even remember how it started exactly, but every other Friday you bring a food for Nanami to try, then he reciprocates the same day next week. Last Friday was technically your turn, and you’d brought macrons from your favorite sweets store, but the moment you caught the scent of his biscuits he’d brought for lunch it was over for you. Cue you mentioning it in passing an embarrassing amount of times, leading you to… now.
“The macarons you shared last time were good,” He continues, his tone relaxed as you tear into the box like a madman. “I hope these live up to the anticipation.”
“Oh they will,” You assure, finally removing the lid and taking a deep inhale at the lovely garlicky scent that immediately surrounds you. “Oh hell yeah. They smell so good.”
You hardly look up in time to see the smile that crept onto his face before it disappeared.
"Enjoy." He gestures at the box with his chin. "Don't hold back on the criticism."
Happily, you pluck one of the biscuits out of the container, unable to wipe the smile off your face even as you dig your teeth in. Instantly your tongue is greeted with the crunchy and buttery coating, followed by the soft warmth of the inside.
"Oh my god," You exclaim in pure bliss, unaware of how loud you had been. "Nanami Kento! How could you keep this from me for so long?"
Nanami can hardly contain his own smirk seeing you experiencing such pure joy.
You hold a hand up to your mouth as you continue to chew, smiling up at him.
"Well then," he stands to his full height, giving the wall of your cubicle the lightest tap. "I'll leave you to finish your lunch. Make sure to give me an in-depth report on what you think."
"Will do!" You call after his back as he departs over to his desk. Your eyes linger, though, as you see him react once he sees the gifts on his desk. You unintentionally hold your breath as he picks one after the other up, reading the contents on the front, then tosses it to the side until his desk space is clear.
"NA-NA-MIN~!"
The door to your shared office bursts open, a tall figure stomping inside and demanding the attention of everyone inside. Your eyes dart over to Mr. Nanami, who seems close to popping a blood vessel.
The white haired man strides inside with ease, headed straight to the other's desk across from you.
"Gojo," Comes Nanami's cool voice. “Stop coming here as you please.”
“Woah look at you, Mr. Heartbreaker!” Gojo predictably ignores his demand, snatching up one of the Valentines from Nanami’s desk for inspection. “I didn’t think someone as gloomy as you would be so popular around here. Though you do make for some good eye candy.”
Nanami just sighs.
“What do you want?” He asks, exasperated already.
All Gojo does is smile with a small chuckle, before stepping in closer and whispering into Nanami’s ear for a while. You can’t take your eyes away, Mr. Nanami’s face falling into a grimace in reaction to whatever Gojo may be telling him.
Once Gojo is finished he takes a step back, the smile never leaving his face.
You whip your head back to your desk as you see Nanami start to turn your direction, praying desperately he did not see you eyeing him up.
“I’ll be right back.” You hear him grumble.
Taking the chance to look up again, you see him grab his suit jacket and stride towards the door, not sparing anyone even a glance. Gojo himself doesn’t immediately move to follow, but surprises you with his gaze swiveling to your direction.
The masked man only smiles, and waves at you. Confused, you attempt a smile and wave back.
“Gojo.” You hear the stress on every syllable in his name.
“Coming, dearest!”
The moment the door dramatically slams behind Gojo, your eyes once again trail downwards, to that goddamn bag that has those goddamn chocolates inside.
Surely it would turn out fine. Even if you were to get royally rejected, Nanami isn't the type to make fun of you or tell everyone he knows about what happened. Worst case scenario, it'll just be you embarrassed out of your mind.
Determined, you rise from your seat.
You are an adult. And you are going to give him those damn chocolates.
With newfound bravery you dive under your desk for your bag you'd kicked under there, retrieving the crinkly bag that's been tormenting you all morning.
Each step towards Nanami's desk, though not many, seem thunderously loud even on the bland gray carpet. Your heart pounds in your ears as you approach, treats now clutched in both hands.
Just put it down.
Put it down.
Suddenly a noise brings you back out of your head, loud laughter outside the office door.
Laughter? Here, in this dreary office?
"I don't get what's so funny, Gojo." Follows the cool voice you've come to like.
The confidence you’d built up deflates in an instant. You curse at yourself internally for stalling for so long, unintentionally slamming the bag down on the desk in your haste to get away from the crime scene.
Instead of retreating to your desk like you'd intended, the second you hear the door hit the wall, you panic. Your legs carry you past your desk, and over to the door in the back of the room that leads to the printers.
Once inside, your nerves don't calm in the slightest.
What were you doing? You are an adult, why are you hiding like a child?
With shaky hands you grab a chair from the table in the corner, making sure to take deep breaths to try and calm your wildly beating heart as you settle down.
‘This is stupid.’ You think to yourself, pulling at a loose thread in the seam of your cuffs. You keep urging yourself that you’re being silly and overdramatic, and that you need to go back to your desk— that lunch was ending soon and you needed to go back to work regardless. But your anxiety floods your brain, taking control of your critical thinking as you pull your phone out from your pocket.
Shaky fingers dial the number of your manager, who thankfully picks up immediately.
“Hey what’s up!” Her friendly voice soothes you somewhat.
You clear your throat, and struggle to speak through newly formed tears. “I-I’d like to take the rest of the day off. Please.”
“Oh sweetheart,” the manager coos, always having had a soft spot for you. “You can head home, I’ll take care of the rest.”
“You’re sure it’s okay?”
“I’ve been asking you to take a day off forever. Go ahead, I’ll see you Monday.”
“Thank you,” You breathe out.
“Let me just call up Mr. Nanami and let him know.”
The second you process what she had said, you hang up.
You had to go. Now.
You rocket from your seat, making sure to wipe any evidence of your tears from your face before leaving the printer room. Your eyes are cast downward, on a mission to reach your desk, grab your bag, and leave. Thankfully lunch isn’t quite over, so many of your coworkers were still out, and the office is calm.
You swoop under your desk in an instant and grab your bag, then busy yourself cleaning up your desk and booting your work laptop off.
"Excuse me—"
You jump at the sudden voice, frightenedly spinning around to face the source.
Mr. Nanami takes a step back, startled from your sudden turn, but does not move any farther. Matter of fact he seems frazzled, his usually perfect comb-over has wisps of blonde hair falling from the style.
"Mr. Nanami," You readjust your bag's strap on your shoulder, looking anywhere but his face. "I-I'm… "
Your voice dies as your gaze falls to his left hand, which holds a familiar plastic bag.
"Sorry to bother you just as you’re heading out, but–"
"I… I uh," You force out, side-stepping him to leave your cubicle. "Sorry, I have somewhere to be, urgently. I gotta go… like right now."
He frowns. "Wait–"
"See you tomorrow!" You suddenly shout, spinning on your heel towards the front exit, hoping and begging he would not follow. You couldn't possibly handle hearing his response after spending so long working up the courage just to give it to him.
As you step into the open elevator, you can't help but pinch yourself.
"Stupid." You murmur to yourself, adding another pinch.
The trip home goes by in a flash, you don’t remember how exactly you got home, but as you step inside your apartment door you can’t hold your emotions any longer.
Through cloudy tears you carefully remove your shoes, bag and coat and drop everything in the front entrance while you stagger your way to your bedroom.
Exhaustion weighs heavy on your shoulders, but its no match for the overwhelming flood of dread for what’s to come the next time you see Nanami. You could picture each horrendous scenario so clearly each time you closed your eyes: You meeting eyes in the office and he jerks his head away. Nanami leaving during lunch to avoid you. The images of the blonde man’s "I'm sorry”s and “I don’t see you that way”s have been tormenting you all day.
Once you’re met with the sight of your bed behind your bedroom door, all you want is to collapse into it and never emerge again. To drown in your sheets and comforter so you’d never have to face his beautifully watchful eyes again.
A sob wracks your frame as you drop face first onto your bed sideways, not even bothering to crawl up to your pillow before you curl into yourself, taken over by the hot flood of tears.
You don't remember falling asleep, but next thing you know you're blinking against the blinding morning light streaming in from your window. A groan seeps from your lips, as you swallow and your sandpapery throat makes itself known.
After tossing and turning for a bit, dreading having to get up, you're overcome with relief when you realize: it’s Saturday, you have off today. The saving grace of delaying confrontation is sweet.
You roll out of bed, momentarily satisfied, when you look down at your now crumpled work clothes. You sigh to yourself, going to your closet to get your pajamas out.
Your sister-in-law, Sara, was coming over later for brunch, demanded by her so she could squeeze the details of what happened yesterday out of you. It was in fact Sara who convinced you to make him a Valentine's gift in the first place, and she’s always asking about your love life. Or lack thereof.
You sigh when you realize your thoughts had brought Mr. Nanami to the forefront of your mind again. Forcing it from your brain, you focus on changing clothes, into a giant t-shirt with holes and some old gym shorts before setting off into the kitchen. You start a pot of coffee and glance at the clock above the fridge, she’s going to be here soon.
Speak of the devil, your phone starts singing from your discarded coat by the door and you trudge over, the memory of slinking it off through tears unwillingly playing. Sara’s ID flashes on the screen when you pull it out to answer.
“Hey in-law!” She affectionately cheers. “Sorry I’m calling so late, I’m having the worst cramps of my life. Like, seriously, I’m about to rip your brother’s hands off his arms if he doesn’t stop trying to massage me. So can we raincheck on that brunch?” You would never say so, but relief floods into your system.
“Oh, don’t worry about it! Text me a day that works for you! Sorry to hear though, hope you feel better soon! Bye!” You rush off the phone, and relish in the idea of having the day all to yourself. Phone clutched in your hand, you head back into the kitchen and pour yourself a cup of coffee.
Your first sip is interrupted by a knock on the door. You furrow your brows, and set your mug down.
Didn’t Sara just say she wasn’t coming? Maybe this was her own lame attempt at a prank; wouldn’t be the first time she’s tried to surprise you at home.
You trudge back to the front door, and quickly let out a “just a minute!” as you pick up your things in front of the door and properly hang them on the hooks. Without thinking you swing the door open, a greeting on your tongue, when the sight stuns you into silence.
“Mr. Nanami…” You say in almost a daze, catching the door knob before it swung open any more and revealed your messy appearance.
Nanami looks entirely different from how you were used to seeing him at the office, now sporting a big beige knit sweater paired with light blue jeans. The sweater is pushed up neatly to his elbows, showing off his watch, as well as the sizeable bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“For you.” He says suddenly, holding the bouquet of flowers out to you.
“Oh…” is the only thing that leaves your mouth, staring down at the flowers as you take them in disbelief, before your gaze returns to the man before you.
A sudden frown takes over his handsome face.
“Were… were you expecting someone else?”
“No!” You exclaim instinctively, but then you pause and think about it. “I mean, well, yeah I was . My sister-in-law was going to come over for brunch,” You lamely wave your cellphone clutched in your other hand. “But she just canceled on me.”
Nanami lets out a sigh, almost sounding relieved.
“Can I come in?” He springs on you, which you aren’t expecting at all.
You can only blink at him in confusion.
“I’m… I don’t know,” Your eyes dart away, your knuckles fiddling with the doorknob on your side. “I-I’m not exactly… dressed to be receiving your company.”
Unbeknownst to you, his eyes trail down, to your giant shirt with tiny holes and the tie-dye shorts that leave little to be imagined from the thighs down. Nanami gulps.
“I think you look lovely.”
You nearly choke on your breath at the compliment, looking down to make sure you were both looking at the same outfit.
“Th-thank you, I guess.” You stammer, widening the doorway. “Well… uh, come on in.”
Embarrassed, you whisk the bouquet of flowers away into your kitchen, under the pretense of looking for a vase to put them in. With purposeful glances you see Nanami take slow steps in behind you, taking his time to study and marvel at your interior. As much as you pretend you’re calm, cool and collected, your heart flutters out of control when you accidentally make eye contact, and the corners of his lips quirk up into a smile.
“Your home,” He says as he waltzes into the kitchen behind you, leaning against the counter next to you as you pull down a glass vase. “It’s very… you.”
Avoiding his intense gaze you laugh, busying yourself with filling the vase with water.
“I’d hope so,” You attempt to joke. “I did decorate it myself.”
You take a daring glance towards him, only to find his gaze fixed on you, with the most beautiful expression you’ve ever seen on his face. Nanami has his elbows braced against the counter beside you to meet your eye level, his eyes creased at the corners and so full of warmth that you almost want to cry.
“So, uh…” You cut the moment short, turning away to the other side of the kitchen and abandoning the flowers in front of you, as you don’t trust yourself to trim them while you were so distracted. “What brings you here? N-Not that you’re unwelcome or anything, it’s just, y'know… I wasn’t expecting you…”
Nanami takes a deep sigh, and you watch as he also abandons the counter, and pulls out a chair at your table. Instead of sitting, he motions you to the seat, watching expectantly. And you, ever so happy to please him, immediately walk over and sit in the chair he’d so graciously pulled for you. He then lowers himself into the chair on the right side of the table, you realizing how big he was compared to your little dining table.
“I wanted to… talk. Properly, face to face. It feels like we didn’t get the chance to talk at all yesterday.”
Shame fills your every orifice at his words, the emotions you so haphazardly acted on at work flooding your brain.
"I’m sorry," The words fly out of your mouth before you could stop them. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to—”
The hands you’d unconsciously been wringing each other with suddenly get pulled apart, and your right hand gets enveloped in the most comforting warmth you’d ever experienced. You look down to find Nanami’s hands clutching yours, a thumb finding the back of your palm to rub circles into.
“I don’t want an apology from you. I just want to come to a mutual understanding of our… situation, is all. Is that alright?”
You gulp, the hand he holds becoming tense as you see him reach behind him.
From his back pocket he retrieves your thrice-folded confession you’d buried in his chocolates. Your eyes dart up to Nanami’s, who somehow hasn’t stopped staring at you with that awe-dropping look of warmth.
“In your letter,” Your heart hammers in your ears as you watch Nanami spin the folded paper between his fingers. “You said you’d liked me for a long time. How long?”
“We’re just jumping right in, huh,” You mumble, feeling your hands sweat just at the mention of your confession. You don’t even remember what you’d written in there, your tipsy, sleep deprived self had cooked that one up.
Nanami’s still looking at you, expectantly.
“W-well,” You scratch the back of your neck, eyes darting around the room for a distraction. “I don’t really know exactly when per se… It kind of feels like I’ve always liked you.”
Nanami hums in thought, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze that brings your attention back on him.
“I know when it was.”
Your eyebrows immediately furrow, looking at the man at your dining table in pure confusion.
“Y-you do?”
With a smile on his lips he nods, dropping the paper in his hand and returning it to holding your hand with both of his. He flips your hand palm faced up, and begins tracing the lines there.
“Do you remember the first time we exchanged food?” You briefly shake your head, anxiety traveling up your neck. Nanami nods, and continues. “It was a year ago, shortly after you were transferred to my department.”
As he speaks you wrack and wrack your brain for the memory, becoming increasingly more terrified when nothing comes to mind. What could you have possibly done that Nanami remembers so well?
“I believe you brought in obligatory chocolates for everyone in the office. I’ll admit I wasn’t interested at first; I had a major project I had to redo since it’d been rejected just before you gave the chocolates out. But, I skipped lunch to work on it, and your sweets were still on my desk, so I ate them. And, I mean it when I say this, I fell in love with you on the spot.”
Your breath catches in your chest, and you swear you start going light headed.
“So I approached you the next day.” Nanami continues, his fingers continuing to travel on the expanse of your palm. “I lied, and told you I had too much food, but truth is I made that banana bread specifically for you.”
The memory comes to you at the mention of the banana bread. Of course it was the banana bread. You were so embarrassed about the way you acted after just having a taste of it, perhaps your brain walled off that memory to save yourself the pain you were now experiencing.
“Oh my god,” You groan, covering your face with your free hand. “Please tell me you’re joking. That was so embarrassing.”
“I think I remember it a little differently,” Nanami says between polite chuckles, an enchanting smile crossing his face. “I was overjoyed actually, to hear you savoring it so happily.”
Nanami's gaze suddenly turns serious, not entirely in the way that it does in meetings at the office, but it pins you to your seat all the same.
“The reason I'm here is to tell you that I like you too, much more than you seem to believe I do. And I want to discuss what a relationship might look like between us… if you'll have me, that is.”
You mind blanks, but the silliest smile slips onto your face.
“You… like me? For real?”
Nanami silently nods, giving your hand a squeeze.
“Wow, I,” You short circuit, the various thoughts in your head fist fighting to get out of your mouth all at once. “I, cant— can I kiss you?”
Nanami sputters, and turns his head to cough a few times, before turning to you with a noticeably pink color dusting over his cheeks.
“I was, uh,” His gaze darts away. “I was planning on being respectful and all, and not request anything from you. But… I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't like that.”
You seize the moment by its balls, surging up from you seat and pressing your lips to his. For a split second neither of you move, before Nanami envelopes your lips with his, a hand coming up to cradle your face.
Nanami's kiss is much like all you'd hoped it would be, firm and warm, with a fresh mint flavor like he'd had a candy. You hum in appreciation, pressing as close as you can with the table between you two. Nanami's rumbles with a chuckle, gently pulling away.
“I'll take this as my confession being reciprocated?”
You enthusiastically nod and pull him back in by his collar, eager to put his mouth to better use.