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Thursday evenings are not anything special for Ryuunosuke. That is, unless he's staying in London. Then on a Thursday night, at six o'clock sharp without fail, there's a rapping on the door of 221B Baker Street. Four knocks in quick succession to a familiar rhythm that always catches him by surprise (despite being at the same time every week) and makes him jump to his feet, forgoing whatever conversation he's currently having. Typically, he will open the front door to see Kazuma waiting for him – sometimes with flowers or some other gift, sometimes just huddled tightly in his jacket in an attempt to protect himself from England’s winters – and they'll go for a stroll, or for a pint in the nearby pub, or take a Hansom to Kazuma's apartment on the south side of the river. It's nothing fancy, despite both of their successful legal careers, there's not quite enough money to splash out on anything frivolous but it's a routine that they've happily fallen into nonetheless.
This evening, however, Kazuma is not huddled for warmth, nor is he holding a bouquet of whatever flowers are currently in season. Instead, he's sitting on the saddle of a bicycle, the frame of which is splattered with mud, beckoning his partner over with a grin. Ryuunosuke stares at him in confusion for a few moments before hesitantly stepping towards him. Kazuma laughs – though, interestingly, it isn't his usually deep, hearty laugh; instead it's short and clipped.
Almost as if he's nervous.
'Weird ,' he thinks, but then Kazuma speaks again, drawing him from his thoughts.
"What on earth is that face for, Partner?" he asks with a grin.
Ryuunosuke stares at him blankly before gesturing to the bike he's sitting on. "... What's this?" He asks carefully, hesitantly, fearful of what the answer might (or rather, will probably) be.
In response, Kazuma turns his body and pats a small seat-like structure tied to the back of the vehicle, the worn-down leather making a soft thud with each impact. When Ryuunosuke continues to give him a blank stare, Kazuma sighs and says, "It's a bicycle."
"Yes, I can see it's a bicycle–"
"There's a seat on the back for you–"
"Absolutely not ."
For a moment there's a flash of… something across Kazuma's face. Not quite disappointment, but perhaps… fear? Panic? It's enough to bring back that same sense of nervousness from earlier, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears as he rolls his eyes playfully in response.
"Come on , Ryuunosuke," he says as he reaches to take his partner’s hand, the other still planted on the handlebars. "You've been on one before."
"Yes, five years ago," Ryuunosuke counters, shuddering at the memory of the fracture in his ankle he'd gained during his first time visiting Britain following his return to Japan. "And we both know how that ended up."
At this, Kazuma squeezes his fingers tightly in his own, and Ryuunosuke meets his gaze as the cool spring breeze ruffles his hair. He's smiling reassuringly, dark eyes sparkling with a familiar kindness, like he had all those years ago before they'd embarked on the SS Burya. 'I've got everything under control, partner,' he'd told him, rather ironically – but Ryuunosuke had put his faith in him just like he had at his trial a few days prior.
"You won't be the one riding it," Kazuma says softly, his words almost lost to the wind. "All you have to do is hold onto me."
Still hesitant, Ryuunosuke inches a little closer to the death trap that takes the form of a bicycle, feeling Kazuma's grip on his hand adjust so their fingers are intertwined. “You’re absolutely certain you know what you’re doing?” he asks warily. His partner nods.
“Of course,” he answers. “You trust me, don’t you, Ryuunosuke?”
Trust. It’s such a simple thing, yet so complicated and fickle at the same time. Ryuunosuke is not the same man he was in Yumei, naive enough to put his faith in everything and everyone without question. But now – nearly a full seven years after he’d first stood trial in Tokyo’s High Court – after everything he’s been through and everything he’s witnessed both in and out of the courtroom, it’s gotten that little bit harder over the years to place his trust in anything.
Yet despite that, his trust in Kazuma has been constant, a familiar comfort amid the frenzy of trials and conspiracies that’s otherwise left his trust in others shattered. It wavered but never disappeared entirely, and in return, his partner’s belief in him has remained just as steadfast throughout the years.
“Of course I do,” he eventually replies, “But if I end up in hospital because of you–”
“You won’t,” Kazuma cuts him off, “I promise.”
Sighing, Ryuunosuke takes a seat on the back of the bicycle, sliding his arms around Kazuma’s waist and holding his body as tightly as he can. He feels his partner’s muscles shift underneath his coat as he turns to press a kiss to his cheek. Then, he grips onto the handlebars and places a foot on the pedal, pushing off the edge of the kerb with a soft grunt of exertion.
The bike wobbles and Ryuunosuke lets out a yelp as his grip on his partner’s waist somehow gets tighter than it already is, jostled by the movement of the wheels over the cobblestones. He tries squeezing his eyes shut, but it only serves to intensify the bumpy motions of the vehicle as it gathers speed and rolls down Baker Street. The structure beneath them creaks ominously, the chains between the pedals and wheels making a little too much noise for comfort, and he can’t help but wonder where on earth his partner got such a precarious contraption from – or why he’s so insistent on getting Ryuunosuke on it alongside him.
In front of him, Kazuma lets out a chuckle that he feels reverberate through his abdomen as he continues to cling onto it. “Everything alright back there, Partner?” he asks, not needing to face him for the grin on his face to be evident in his voice. The bike goes faster still, the cool early evening air whipping past Ryuunosuke’s face and ruffling his hair.
"Slow down , Kazuma–"
"That's not what you were telling me last weekend."
Ryuunosuke fights the urge to roll his eyes. "What's the rush, anyway?" he asks, raising his voice to hear himself over the whistling of the breeze by his ears. "Do you have something you need to do this evening?”
Kazuma is silent for a few moments, and amongst the chatter of passers-by and the air whirring past them Ryuunosuke swears he hears his breath hitch. It’s only brief, but it’s still enough to wordlessly answer his question.
Between this and the strange sense of panic emanating from him earlier, Ryuunosuke can absolutely tell something is going on. What that something is, of course, he has no idea. He trusts Kazuma. Truly, genuinely and wholly trusts him. Try as he might to always see the good in others, very few people receive that honour from him nowadays. For the most part it isn’t a conscious decision – most days the distrust comes to him as naturally as breathing – but there is the odd occasion where he finds himself making the active choice to put his faith in his partner.
This evening, it seems, is going to be one such occasion. Kazuma is weaving around people, carriages and even the occasional motor car, so fast that Ryuunosuke barely has time to yelp in surprise as they scrape past a wall that he swears they were about to collide with; it’s unclear if he’s hurrying or just not thinking straight but either way his nerves are obvious. It could be easy, knowing how irrational Kazuma can get when his brain is working faster than his body can keep up with, to tell him to stop, to turn back, to relinquish the confidence he has in him and be safe rather than sorry.
But what would these last six years have been for if he did such a thing? At the end of the day, the trust he’s putting in his partner now is the same trust he put in him all those years ago from across the courtroom of the Old Bailey, despite watching him fight tooth and nail to have an innocent man convicted of murder. An active choice, perhaps against his better judgement, but it had paid off in the end.
So, Ryuunosuke decides to trust him and hold on.
As evening turns to dusk, the flicker of the lamplight overhead illuminates their path; through Hyde Park, past Leicester Square and past Whitehall before crossing over the Thames at Westminster Bridge. The last of the day’s sun stains the river a deep blood orange, glistening on the water as they leave the heart of the city and continue on their journey. By the time they reach the south side of the river, Ryuunosuke has mostly grown used to the bumpy motions of the bicycle, though his stomach still churns every time it lurches to one side while turning a corner. He clings onto Kazuma, burying his face in his shoulder and focusing on his breathing.
Kazuma doesn’t engage him in too much conversation. At this point in their relationship talking is far from necessary and they’ve learned to recognise when the other is not in a talkative mood from subtle changes in body language and a different tone of voice when greeted. They have their moments, of course – when Ryuunosuke inevitably does something too impulsive for his own good, or when Kazuma retreats into himself and only speaks to others to snap at them. Even so, they've learned to work around it, to trust each other enough that their brief spats mean nothing in the long run.
Though, trust aside, he can’t help but be curious about his partner’s behaviour. His apparent secrecy and requirement to take them on a bike ride through the city – as beautiful as the city is when lit up at night – is certainly confusing to say the least. He has something up his sleeve, Ryuunosuke is sure of it. The question now is what that something could possibly be. After all, both their birthdays and anniversaries have long since passed, and neither of them have won any big cases or received promotions recently. It’s not like they have anything to celebrate.
By the time the bicycle finally starts to slow down, the last of the day’s sun is staining the horizon a deep bloody red. The dark of the night is taking over much of the rest of the sky. There are no stars, hidden by the layers of fog and smoke in the air, and the dirt pathway through the park they’ve pulled into is lit only by the occasional flickering gas lamp.
It’s quiet here – nobody is going for a walk in the park at this time, certainly not on a Thursday night – and it’s far enough out of the main city that it’s altogether quite peaceful. The bike trundles along, across the neatly cut grass and past flowerbeds and lines of rose bushes not yet in bloom until they reach a bandstand in the centre of the park. Kazuma pulls up beside it, leaning the vehicle against the painted wooden structure before getting off the seat and taking Ryuunosuke's hand as he does the same.
"Always such a gentleman, aren't you, Kazuma?" he says with a laugh.
Kazuma returns his smile but looks away in seconds, running an agitated hand through his hair as he leads Ryuunosuke up onto the bandstand. He doesn't make eye contact, doesn't speak; suddenly that nervousness, that fear, from earlier has returned. He leans on the railing and looks out over the park, handsome features and dark eyes illuminated by the warm glow of the gas lamps overhead, his brow knitted in worry as his partner comes to stand beside him, pressed close enough that their shoulders brush together.
Ryuunosuke rests his hand on top of his, tracing the shape of his knuckles as he strokes them with his thumb. "Kazuma," he says softly, "What's going on? Are you alright?"
Kazuma looks up at him with a small but thankfully genuine smile. "Yes, Ryuunosuke," he says softly, "I'm fine, just…"
Ryuunosuke waits for him to continue, but his voice trails off and he goes back to staring out over the park, the hand not covered by his partner's fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. He's clearly not fine – or at least something is playing on his mind – and if there's one thing Ryuunosuke has learned over the years that a lawyer is good for, it's talking someone into a corner. So, he squeezes Kazuma's hand to get his attention and starts speaking.
"Do you remember back in Yumei," he says softly, "When you first asked me if I would go to Britain with you?"
Kazuma smiles and rolls his eyes playfully at his question. "I don't think I'd be able to forget," he replies with a laugh, "Unless I took another blow to the head."
Ryuunosuke frowns; Kazuma knows him well enough to know when he’s trying to be serious and yet he’s deflecting. Yes, something is absolutely going on. “I dropped everything to join you, Kazuma,” he tells him, “I risked everything - my degree, my freedom – if I had been caught before you were, uh, injured, I would’ve been in so much trouble. We both would. But I didn’t even think twice about joining you, Kazuma, because I trusted you.”
Kazuma’s expression softens, sweet and familiar as he lets out a soft chuckle at his statement. “Sure, because you trusted me,” he drawls, “Definitely not because you wanted to suck my–”
“ Kazuma .” Ryuunosuke fixes him with a glare and, thankfully, his partner gets the message.
“Right, sorry.” He says. “Continue, partner.”
“... I trusted you,” Ryuunosuke continues, “With everything I have. Perhaps foolishly – and perhaps being so helplessly attracted to you influenced that trust – but not once have I regretted that decision. Even at the worst of times, I…” His voice trails off momentarily as Kazuma leans closer to him and he feels some of the tension in his shoulder dissipate. “I never stopped believing in you, Kazuma. Just as you’ve never stopped believing in me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, partner, and I cannot imagine a life without you in it.”
There’s a flash of pink as Kazuma’s tongue darts out to wet his dry lips. “... You can’t?” he asks, his eyes wide and voice light and edged with what Ryuunosuke thinks is hope.
“Of course not,” Ryuunosuke says with hesitation; he’s just talking now, saying whatever comes to mind without thinking. Perhaps it would be a risky move in any other situation, or with any other person, but at the moment it just feels… right. “If possible, I would spend the rest of my life with you. Perhaps it is selfish, but I have often thought about you returning to Japan permanently. Building a home with you, a family. Having a life with you, outside of the law.” He lets out a sigh, turning to face Kazuma and taking his hands so he does the same. They stand there for a while, close together under the shelter of the bandstand, with the glow of the gas lamp illuminating their faces in the darkness. His partner’s gaze is soft and familiar, his body feeling less tense than before as his lips curl to form a smile that creases the skin around his eyes. The sight fills him with warmth and in that moment there is only one thing on his mind. One suggestion, one – perhaps impulsive – idea that leaves his mouth before he can truly process what he’s saying.
“Marry me, Kazuma.”
Ryuunosuke isn’t sure what response he’s expecting from his partner, though it’s certainly not a sigh of relief and an “Oh, thank God,” as he’s pulled in for a deep, passionate kiss that tastes like frost and candle smoke and distinctly Kazuma. Even now, after all these years together, time still stops momentarily when Kazuma kisses him like this and he still finds himself melting into his arms like they're sharing their first embrace all over again.
When Kazuma pulls away his face is flushed and a grin is plastered across his face as he squeezes his partner’s fingers in his own. Ryuunosuke rolls his eyes playfully.
“What was all that about?” he asks him. Kazuma chuckles, letting go of his hands to reach into his coat pocket.
“Well,” he says, “I actually, ah, wanted to ask you.”
“Ask me what?”
“To marry me.” Kazuma produces a small box from his pocket, opening it and holding it out before Ryuunosuke to display a small silver ring – simple, unassuming and so very beautiful. “I wanted to ask sooner, but I was so worried that you might say no that I kept backing down and delaying it.”
Ryuunosuke looks down at the ring then back up at his partner, his heart pounding and his lips partner in surprise. “Oh,” he says, because it’s all he can manage before he’s pulled in for another kiss.
They stay there for a while, warm in each other’s arms; at some point the ring is slipped onto Ryuunosuke's finger but all he can really think about is the man pressed up against him, safe and beautiful and perfectly flawed. He kisses him like he’ll lose him again, like they aren’t about to spend the rest of their lives together.
There isn’t much that he trusts these days but whatever life throws at him, he can trust Kazuma – his partner, his best friend, and now his fiance, will be there.