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The kitchen light is on when Shuichi shuffles out of the bathroom, accompanied by the faint sound of rhythmic tapping, like metal against wood. When Shuichi edges closer to get a better look, he finds his boyfriend leaned against the counter, holding a knife, the fingers of his opposite hand splayed out flat in front of him.
Frowning, but not wanting to startle him into losing a pinky, Shuichi remains silent, leaning against the fridge and folding his arms. Kokichi is singing the familiar song under his breath, more hums than words, his eyes half-lidded with concentration. It’s hard to say whether he’s noticed Shuichi or not until he’s heaving a sigh and tossing the blade aside, putting his arms out without looking Shuichi’s direction.
Shuichi obliges him, but frowns at where the knife is lying on the carpet. “We need to put that away before we go back to bed,” he points out, tucking Kokichi into his chest. Kokichi is short enough that his head can fit snug right under Shuichi’s chin, and he takes advantage of it, cosying up in his arms and pressing his eyes in against Shuichi’s shoulder.
“You know, that sounds like a you problem, Shu-chan.”
“It’ll be a both of us problem if you step on it and need to go to the emergency room.”
“Actually, I lost feeling in my feet long ago, so it’s not gonna matter on my end. I feel bad for you having to make the drive at this hour, though!”
Shuichi sighs. He threads his fingers through Kokichi’s hair, doing a little mental catalogue. He’s not shaking, nor is he holding onto Shuichi’s shirt particularly tight. His voice doesn’t have a tremor or anything either. The only indication that he’s upset at all was the game he was just playing. People who are feeling perfectly normal after waking up in the middle of the night don’t get up and play the knife game.
Still, how to bring it up… Kokichi himself would find some roundabout way to pose the question, but Kokichi has said before he likes when Shuichi is direct, so that’s what he decides to do.
“Are you alright?” Shuichi rubs the nape of Kokichi’s neck. “You know you can wake me if you have a bad dream?”
“Didn’t I already wake you?”
Shuichi ruffles Kokichi’s hair. “On purpose, I mean.”
“And how do you know this all wasn’t some bid for attention?”
“I’m more qualified than the average person to talk about what your bids for attention look like, and it has been a very long time since one has involved the knife game.” Shuichi lets his hand drop onto Kokichi’s back, rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. “But if I’ve done something to make you relapse in some way, please tell me.”
It’s meant as a wry statement, but the ending comes out just a bit more sincere than Shuichi is intending. Kokichi must hear it too, because he doesn’t speak right away. He doesn’t even really move, standing stock still in Shuichi’s arms with his eyes still hidden in the neck of Shuichi’s sweatshirt. Eventually, though, he shifts, turning his head so his cheek squishes into Shuichi’s shoulder and his amethyst eyes are fully visible, peering up at Shuichi without any traces of upset.
Of course, this is Kokichi, so the lack of visible emotion doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s been a very long time since he’s outright lied to Shuichi in response to a question like that though and Shuichi would like to think they’re past that.
Kokichi sighs. “Nothing happened. Just felt kinda restless… and… reckless? Like I wanted to do something dumb, so.” He nods his head towards where the knife is still laying on the carpet. “It was this or city skydiving without a parachute.”
“If those were my options, I’m glad you chose the knife,” Shuichi admits. He traces his thumb down the bridge of Kokichi’s nose. “Are you feeling better, or are you still…”
“Hmmmm… hard to say, I guess.” Kokichi smushes his cheek a little more. “Do kinda feel like I need to go run and circles, but I kinda always feel that way when you hug me a long time.”
To accommodate, Shuichi starts to pull back, but Kokichi only latches onto him harder in response.
“I didn’t say let go,” Kokichi grumbles. His lower lip juts out, and it’s cute, so Shuichi lets out a quiet laugh, moving his hand to run his fingers through Kokichi’s hair again. Kokichi is instantly placated by the motion, breathing another long sigh and closing his eyes, tipping heavily into Shuichi’s touch. “Nothing… caused it. No nightmares no nothing. We’re out of there and I know it and I feel better. Just, sometimes… I think maybe it’s another one of those remnant things. Like how you always spoil book plot twists on the first three pages.”
These two things have differing levels of severity, but given Kokichi’s general mood right now, Shuichi is inclined to let it slide. He does sort of start to shuffle, though, keeping an arm around Kokichi as he manoeuvres them towards the knife, crouching awkwardly to scoop it up by the handle. Kokichi allows himself to be moved, but doesn’t assist any in this process—which is of course annoying, but Shuichi will let this one pass too. On account of it being late and Kokichi being in a weird headspace right now.
“Well… do you think you could sleep?” Shuichi asks. “We can go somewhere, too, if you think it would help.”
“Awww.” Kokichi’s lip twitches at the corners. “Always so kind to me, Shu-chan… no. It’s okay. Let’s go to bed.” His eyes pop back open again. “I wanna spoon you. That’ll fix me.”
They’ve been together for quite a while, too long for this to still be affecting him, but Shuichi blushes regardless. He’s never claimed to be a strong man. They stop by the kitchen on their way back towards the bedroom so Shuichi can deposit the knife back in its proper spot. From there, Shuichi allows Kokichi to drag him by the arm, nonstop until they reach the bed, where Kokichi guides Shuichi under the covers with a gentle push.
They get cosy there, Kokichi’s arms around his waist from behind, their legs entangled. Shuichi snuggles back under Kokichi’s chin, pleased by the proximity, and the return to their warm bed.
“If you leave at some point during the night, write a note for me,” Shuichi requests, closing his eyes. “So I don’t worry.”
Kokichi’s thumb is tracing along the line of Shuichi’s clavicle. “I suppose I can make that happen,” he decides. “For my beloved Shu-chan.”
“Thanks.” Shuichi smiles slightly, feeling the warmth of sleepiness starting to overtake him already. “I love you.”
He’s out cold before he can consciously register Kokichi saying it, but somewhere through the dark there is the soft press of lips against the back of his neck, the whisper of breath along his skin. The sentiment returned, even if Shuichi doesn’t get to hear it this time around.