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On the shelf above the fireplace, there was a large red photo album. The cover used to be simple leather, but over the years, and mostly during the first years, Tetsurou had put stickers with hearts and small cats on it, flowers and strawberries, at some point golden rings.
It had been a gift for their first anniversary, only a couple of pages filled back then. Kei didn’t like it to take photos of himself. Sometimes he complained Tetsurou took too many. Tetsurou wouldn’t call it “too many”, he wouldn’t even call it much in the first place.
He put the ones he took into that album.
Kei never complained about the amount of photos when he looked through their album.
He complained about some of the photos though, like the blurry selfie that Tetsurou had taken of them shortly after they had met, he had dragged in Kei for a picture on a party. Tetsurou’s grin went from one ear to the other, confidence radiating even through an old pixelated image. Kei on the other hand had more of a forced smile on his face, he hadn’t really enjoyed the party. The shot wasn’t half as flattering for him as it was for Tetsurou, he was blinking on top of everything.
“It looks like I don’t like you on that picture,” he sometimes said when he looked at it and it always made Tetsurou smile a bit, made him bury his nose in Kei’s neck.
“But you do,” he murmured into pale skin. “And a lot.”
“Possibly,” he replied while intertwining their fingers and running his free hand through Tetsurou’s mess of hair.
Kei preferred the first picture he had taken of them. They had been dating for a couple of months already, and he had been complaining that their blurry and unflattering selfie had been Tetsurou’s lock screen.
“Not my fault that it’s the only picture I have of us two,” Tetsurou had said with a smug grin. Then he had stolen a kiss from his boyfriend.
And then Kei had rolled his eyes, taken out his phone and taken a selfie of them while he had kissed Tetsurou’s cheek.
His eyes were closed on this one too but this time on purpose, the lighting was better and so was the resolution.
His favourite thing about that picture was Tetsurou’s face, the startled expression, eyes open wide in disbelief of what was happening and the faint blush on his cheeks and ears.
There were not that many pictures he had taken in that album, in fact it was a total of seven photos. One was a picture of Tetsurou laying in some shrub under Kei’s window in his old place, the result of Tetsurou trying to climb through said window. Not only had it resulted in some neighbours nearly calling the police because they had thought Tetsurou had been a burglar, but Tetsurou hadn’t even succeeded, he had tried to use the tendril on the wall as a ladder. Which in retrospect had been a dumb idea, Tetsurou did admit that much.
So he had fallen into the shrub after not even 30 cm. And instead of helping him out of the shrub, Kei had taken a picture. He loved it. Tetsurou always said the picture was in their album simply to mock him.
Kei didn’t disagree with that.
The album had pictures of their first vacation together, of Kei with his feet in the water. Wind playing with his hair. His gaze towards the horizon, a faint smile on his lips. It was one of the pictures Tetsurou was especially fond of.
“You look so beautiful on that one,” he said, tracing the page in the album.
“You took this picture without me knowing,” Kei pouted, his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder.
“Because you never let me take a picture and I have to capture your beauty somehow.”
A picture of Tetsurou trying to assemble a wardrobe in their first apartment. Him on the ground between boards and screws and tools, looking at the instruction with a puzzled expression. Kei could still hear him say “I know what I’m doing” while he had screwed two wrong parts together.
Kei liked to call him Mr. Handy sometimes.
And a picture of their first breakfast after moving in together. Kei had tried to make pancakes, some were slightly burned, but they had tasted just fine with strawberries and syrup.
“Maybe I should do the cooking from now on,” Tetsurou had said nonetheless between sugary sweet morning kisses.
It wasn’t a photo, but Tetsurou had glued it into the album nonetheless – the receipt for the engagement ring he had bought what felt like ages ago. He had saved for nearly a year, his job back then hadn’t been paying that well. It had been a simple silver ring.
He had been so nervous when he had proposed that he had said “will you please me, Mary” and Kei had laughed. He had kissed him, he had taken the ring and with a small smirk he had said yes.
“You still haven’t introduced me to Mary, Tetsurou,” Kei said and poked Tetsurou’s nose.
“You’re still a little shit, Kei,” Tetsurou said and pinched Kei’s nose in return.
“But I love you for that,” he hummed as he pressed a kiss onto Kei’s nose.
Tetsurou’s favourite picture was their wedding photo, because Kei looked beautiful and happy and he himself looked beautiful and happy and he liked to remember their wedding day as the happiest day in his life.
Kei looked stunning in his black suit, his smile was soft and fond. Foreheads and noses touching, fingers intertwined. Cherry blossoms everywhere around them.
“You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” Tetsurou said and leaned his forehead against Kei’s, just like on their wedding photo.
Kei didn’t say anything, he just brushed his lips over Tetsurou’s. Years may have passed but he still wasn’t good at saying things like that out loud for the most part.
“I love you,” he said as he pulled away.
“I love you too,” Tetsurou said and closed the distance between their lips again.
The album only had a couple of empty pages left and if he was honest, Tetsurou was almost sad that they only had filled one album yet. He could have filled hundreds of albums, he hoped he would still get to fill a couple.
“How long have we been married anyways,” Kei said as if he didn’t know. He traced a line over Tetsurou’s cheek, soft, like a feather.
“Hm, I don’t remember,” Tetsurou said, a smile overflowing with fondness on his face. “15? 20 years?”
Kei bit his lip, trying to supress a smile that could rival Tetsurou’s. “Don’t you think it has been more?”
“Huh, quite possibly, but it feels like no time has passed at all since the day I bumped into you on campus for the first time. Or maybe an eternity already? Happy anniversary my beautiful mooncake.”
“Happy 25th anniversary, Tetsurou.”