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Washing his hands at the sink for the third time that evening, Koushi looked to the clock and frowned. Glancing at his watch, the digital time there a match to the clock's hands. With a small huff he looked around, gleaming granite countertops and tidy open shelving offering him no further activity to keep himself busy. He’d spent his evening puttering around, wiping down every counter, scrubbing out the matching coffee mugs he'd left out from two days ago, sweeping, and even considering mopping, pausing between each one to stare out the window over the kitchen sink, his gaze trained hopefully towards the driveway.
The house was silent save for the television in the next room murmuring quietly. There had been no mention of fires or cats stuck in trees to be heard of, the local reporters unfazed at the slow news night. So where was he? He comes back to me. He always comes back to me.
The peaceful dark of their front yard offered no insight as Koushi’s eyes swept over it and back to the volleyball-shaped clock again, a treasured gag gift from many White Elephant Christmases ago, which clearly read ten thirty, an hour after Daichi should have been home. One hand idly tucked stray strands of silver hair behind an ear as he watched the seconds tick, his heartbeat keeping anxious time with it.
Even the enduring summer sun had long since ended its own shift and gone home for the day, their stubborn orange cat had followed suit not long after, grumpily giving up his faithful watch at the front door when there was no light left to keep watch by. Koushi had sworn he’d heard the plump little creature grumbling to himself as he stalked away, thick tail waving over his head in irritation. Koushi wished he could do the same, he tried to talk himself out of his relentless ebb and flow of activity. It was a tiring habit, borne of many nervous nights such as this. Still, Koushi found himself inexorably pulled into the same pattern of not-quite-watching at the kitchen window while also not-quite-cleaning a single thing in the kitchen.
A squeal of brakes outside caught his attention, his gaze flickering back up to the window as a large city bus, out of place in their quiet neighborhood of low cottages, pulled up directly in front of the yard that had been vacant only seconds ago. Koushi’s heart clenched as the driver waved familiarly, putting down the dry cloth he’d been pretending to polish the faucet with and moving towards the front door as a smile stole over his face. A watery kind of relief filled his steps with a shaky buoyancy as he left the house, shutting the weathered front door behind him with a soft click.
The doors swung open on his approach to reveal no one, as an unusually tousled head of brown hair shot up over the back of one of the seats. With a grin, Koushi climbed onto the bus, meeting Daichi’s disoriented gaze as he took in his surroundings. “At this rate, we’re going to have to add our house to the route.” He teased by way of greeting. “Or at least start paying Hanamaki-san an Uber fee.”
One of Daichi’s broad hands came up to rub at the back of his neck as he ducked his head. It was an old tell from their school days, one that never failed to charm Koushi into instant forgiveness of all transgressions, even one so vile as falling asleep on the way home from work. Again.
“You know, Suga-san, that might not be a bad idea,” Hanamaki said with a wry smile. “We’ll say this last one is on the house and we can discuss terms next time.”
Daichi’s good-natured groan was nearly drowned out by Koushi’s cackle as they exited the bus's narrow stairs. Wrapping an arm around his husband’s strong lower back, Koushi threw an appreciative wave over his shoulder as the doors closed behind them. The hydraulic sounds of the bus slowly rolling back towards the main road barely registered as the warmth of Daichi’s bulk pressed closer against his side, leaning in to brush a kiss across Koushi’s temple. The feeling of the 48-hour stubble against his skin was a rough comfort as Daichi’s warm baritone melted into his bones.
“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Koushi sniffed. “I already told our son you had abandoned us for good this time for that second family you keep across town with a dog.”
The rich chuckle rumbled through Koushi, loosening the knot that had not been tightening in his chest since the clock had hit nine-thirty. He sighed softly and Daichi put an arm around his shoulders to tuck Koushi in closer. He smelled like the station’s pine soap with a touch of smoke beneath. Clean and strong (and a little sexy). “Oh yeah? And did he believe you?”
“Not for a single second. He yowled at me and stalked to the front door to wait for you.”
Daichi gave another low laugh, the sound a touch tired, but still a balm against Koushi's nerves that had been in no way fraying for the last sixty minutes. There had been nothing to worry about– as he’d reminded their cat frequently over the hour they had not been anxiously watching and waiting. In fact, had anyone stopped over to see them during that time, Koushi was firmly convinced that he and the cat had been entirely steady and normal. It was only internally that it felt like they were wobbling from task to task on emotionally unstable legs, for lack of their missing foundation. He’ll be back soon. He comes back to me. He always comes back to me.
Turning from the driveway to the short stone walkway, orange paws, ears, and two button-black eyes came into view, staring out from the panes of glass surrounding the front door of their little home. Their cat's bottlebrush tail ringed with darker orange stripes waved overhead, his plump little body tensing as Koushi reached for the handle. As the door swung open, the cat darted away to dive beneath the living room couch rather than be caught in the act of waiting for his favorite human. Coward.
“Don’t act like you didn’t start watching the driveway the moment the clock hit nine-thirty, you fluffy ingrate!” Koushi called in the direction of their living room, “You were all nervous and I told you it would be fine.”
Koushi turned back to Daichi with a saccharine smile, “It’s sweet, really, he’s a wreck when you’re late.” Meeting Daichi’s eyes for the first time that night, he faltered, the smile slipping. Those eyes, the same shade as the biggest, sturdiest oak, with all the warmth of comforting winter cocoa, crinkled at the edges with Daichi’s fond smile. He swallowed once. “He worries.”
Closing the door behind them, Daichi leaned back against it, his hands fitting around Koushi’s hips easily. He tugged, bringing Koushi closer, flush to his broad chest.
“Oh yeah? You don’t worry, though?”
Distractedly, Koushi wondered if Daichi could feel the way his heart raced. He looked up into the same face he’d loved since they were teenagers, still square and strong in all the right places, now with a few creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth. He was more handsome than ever in the soft glow of the wall sconces, the light reflecting off his eyes warmly. He leaned into the contact, looping his arms around Daichi’s shoulders, letting the front door take their combined weight.
“Nope.” He brushed their noses together as his head shook back and forth.
A huffed laugh ghosted over his cheekbones. “Liar.”
“Yeah? What would be fair punishment for lying? Does it rank higher or lower than falling asleep on the bus? Or for coming home late and making your cat worry?”
The hands at Koushi’s waist flexed, easily drawing him closer, enough to feel their lips touch as Daichi replied, “Can I beg for leniency from the judge?”
It should have been playful with the way Diachi’s eyes danced, but the heat in them had Koushi’s knees going pitifully weak. They’d been together too long for this to be a reasonable reaction, but Koushi had never exactly been reasonable where Daichi was concerned. He was a career sailor with no sea legs to speak of. “You can–”
The suggestion was cut off as Daichi lifted one hand to the back of Koushi’s hair, thick fingers twining easily through the silver strands. He pulled, gently closing the final gap between them like the inevitable press of the tide against the shore.
Koushi would have to determine reasonable disciplinary action at another time.
Warm mouths met as Daichi’s chapped lips covered Koushi’s, Koushi removing one hand from around Daichi’s neck to cup the rough skin at his jaw. He deepened the kiss with no hesitation, tilting his head to one side and opening his mouth slightly in invitation. The hand at the back of Koushi's head fisted into his hair as Daichi groaned lightly, parting his lips in response. Holding Daichi’s cheek in place with long fingers, he lifted to his toes to lick down into his husband, both hands now cradling Daichi's face in the way Koushi knew he liked, gratified at the way Daichi sighed into him.
Pulling back for air, Koushi’s eyes flew open at Daichi’s voice, raw and wrecked from their kiss. “I’m sorry, Kou, for worrying you.”
Coming back down from the balls of his feet, Koushi tried for a half-shrug, feigning nonchalance. One of his thumbs still holding Daichi’s face swept back and forth gently. “You come back to me.” He wished his voice didn’t sound so small.
Folding his arms around Koushi’s waist, their bodies connected from chest to hip, Daichi settled back against their front door again. His mouth pulled into a soft smile but his gaze was serious as he brought his forehead to rest against Koushi's. Pine soap and smoke. Comfort and home. Koushi tried not to shudder, tried not to give up his shoddy facade.
Daichi’s voice was an anchor, a sure, steady weight. “I always come back to you.”
He did, and he would. Koushi knew that. But kissing him a little deeper tonight wouldn't hurt anyone, right? He nodded, a response to Daichi's assertion and his own rhetorical question, brushing their mouths together again as a grating yowl echoed through the apartment. Huffing, torn between annoyance and amusement, Koushi rested his brow against Daichi's shoulder, feeling the gentle roll of Daichi's laughter.
"I always come back to you, too, buddy."