Archive of Our Own

Genya’s teeth sink into the wood of his pencil, brows furrowing as he stares down at his math homework. He tries his best to remember the advice Tokito gave him, to just slow down and break the equation up piece by piece, but he’s on the last problem now and he just wants to be done. But he can’t for the life of him figure out how to balance this stupid equation. He groans in defeat, letting his pencil fall to the desk and his head fall into his hands. He’s never going to finish this packet. 

At that moment, the door creaks open slowly behind him. Genya tenses, already preparing himself for the screeching he’s sure to follow. Teiko shouting that Hiroshi won’t give her a turn on the desktop, maybe Shuya crying because he tripped, or even Sumi upset at her own homework. Not that Genya can help much with that. 

But instead of screams filling his ears, a chin rests atop Genya’s shoulder, a pair of lips pressing gently against his cheek. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Sanemi’s voice is low in his ear, his fingers wrapping carefully around Genya’s wrists and pulling his hands from his face. Genya slumps back into his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“I can’t figure out this stupid equation,” he grumbles, already preparing for another hour long lecture about how he just isn’t trying hard enough and he should be studying more rather than practicing his shooting. But that doesn’t come. 

Instead Sanemi’s arms reach around him from behind, picking the pencil up off the desk and solving the equation in mere seconds. Genya gawks, surprise and confusion coursing through him. It’s not shocking that Sanemi could solve the equation so quickly—he’s the one who made the damn thing—but it is surprising that he’d just hand over the answer without at least making Genya walk through it together. 

“You can’t just—”

His protests cuts off as Sanemi suddenly spins the chair around, planting one hand on each armrest before silencing Genya with a firm kiss. Genya makes a small sound of surprise before quickly melting into it, his hand coming up to grab at one of Sanemi’s arms. 

Just as quickly as it started, the kiss ends, Sanemi pulling away with a smirk. 

“We’re leaving in thirty minutes,” he says simply, giving Genya another peck when he tries to question it. “Wear something nice.” 

With that, he pulls away fully and saunters out of the room without saying anything more. Genya just sits there for a moment, mind reeling and lips still tingling as he tries to process everything. 

Wait. Leaving? In thirty minutes? Shit, he needs to get dressed. 

~

Genya stares at the clothes strewn across his bed knowing he’ll be mad at himself later for making such a mess but unable to care about that right now. All he can think about now are Sanemi’s instructions. 

“Wear something nice.”

Does Genya even own anything nice? How nice is nice? Sure he has a fancy suit collecting dust in his closet from Obanai’s wedding, but wouldn’t Sanemi have said something more if he meant for Genya to dress that formally? Probably. Hopefully. 

He decides on something nice but still casual—the dark purple button-up he usually wears to award ceremonies and his best pair of black jeans, the ones that Sanemi always says squeeze him just right. They're tight, uncomfortably so, but all his other jeans are either too worn out, too loose, or full of rips and tears. It’s fine, he’s sure he can manage wearing these for one night. The leftover clothes get swept into an empty laundry basket that Genya tells himself he’ll sort when he gets home… even though he knows they’ll sit there for at least the next week.

He moves back to his desk, rummaging through his small collection of earrings for a pair of simple black studs. He puts them in quickly, then grabs his comb and begins to brush out his hair. He takes his time with it tonight, making sure each strand falls just right. 

He spends an embarrassingly long time on it, brushing his mohawk to the left, then the right, then down the middle, unsatisfied at each turn. He just wants this to be perfect. If Sanemi took the time to plan something special, he can take the time to look nice. 

When he’s finally satisfied, Genya puts the comb down with a small exhale. He pulls open his desk drawer, grabbing the cologne Ume bought him a few months back. He spritzes it carefully to his neck and wrists—remembering the way Ume shrieked at him for spraying it all across his body. Satisfied, he slips the cologne back into his drawer. He examines himself in the mirror one last time, making sure everything is perfect before leaving his bedroom. 

His heart hammers in his chest as he makes his way to the living room, mind racing to figure out what surprise Sanemi could have prepared for tonight—and why. It’s not their anniversary—he checked his phone ten times in a panic that he forgot—neither of their birthdays are coming up, and it’s not like he’s been doing particularly well in class to warrant a “reward” of any kind. He really doesn’t have a clue.

“Nemi?” Genya calls out as he steps into the living room, looking around for his brother. Sanemi finds him first, his arm wrapping around Genya’s waist and pulling him close against his side. 

“You look nice,” he says quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to Genya’s temple and pulling away before any kids can fly down the hallway and catch them. “You ready to go?” 

Genya’s mind bluescreens as he takes in Sanemi’s outfit. It’s not much fancier than his usual school attire—a basil green button up with a black vest and slacks—but it’s clear he put in more effort than he ever does with work. The shirt has been ironed free of wrinkles, the slacks too, and the vest is carefully positioned instead of the sloppy way he usually throws it on in the mornings. 

“Genya?”

Genya snaps out of it, jumping slightly. “Y-yeah, I’m ready,” he stammers, tugging on his shoes at the doorway and following Sanemi outside. “Wait—what about the kids?”

“Ma doesn’t have work,” Sanemi says with a grin, his knuckles brushing against Genya’s as they walk down the street. “So I get you all to myself tonight.”

Genya flushes, turning his head pointedly away from Sanemi so he can’t see how red he’s gotten. “What’s all this for anyway?” he asks, trying to shift the conversation. “Is there a special date coming up that I forgot?” 

Sanemi scoffs, sounding almost offended. “What? I can’t just spend time with my boyfriend?” 

It’s stupid the way that word makes Genya’s heart skip a beat. It’s simple, casual, and an accurate label—but one he doesn’t get to hear often. Brother has always come first. 

“I didn’t say that…” he mumbles, still refusing to look at him. “I just… Nevermind.”

“Hey.” Sanemi stops walking, his hand gently catching Genya’s chin and making him turn to look at him. “You didn’t forget anything. I just wanted to do something nice for you. It’s been a while since we went on a real date.” 

“Oh…” Genya breathes, unable to manage anything more. 

It has been a while. Dates for them—real dates—are few and far between. It’s not exactly easy to go out with your boyfriend when he’s also your big brother, your math teacher, and you have five other siblings to help take care of. Usually the best they get is the odd occasion where Sanemi is able to slip away from his coworkers and have lunch in his office with Genya, or the nights where Genya manages to sneak through the hall without waking any kids and crawls into Sanemi’s bed for cuddles and late night conversation. But real dates? Going out somewhere, just the two of them, and being able to actually act like a couple and not siblings begrudgingly spending time together? Those are absurdly rare, almost nonexistent. 

“Now c’mon,” Sanemi says, hand slipping down to Genya’s arm and tugging on it. “We have a train to catch.”

The train station is loud and crowded, the way it always is on Friday nights. People rush past in every direction—kids screaming as they beg for candies from the vending machines, business men shouting into their phones, other couples rushing to catch the correct train. Sanemi grabs Genya’s hand as they navigate the crowd, though it’s more of an engrained instinct to protect rather than something romantic. Still, Genya follows, happily letting Sanemi weave through the crowd. 

Somehow they find an empty bench, and Sanemi drops into it with an exhausted huff, tugging Genya down beside him. Genya can already see the tension in his expression. Sanemi’s never been particularly fond of crowds, trains even less so, but Mom needed the car in case anything happened with the kids, so they didn’t have much of a choice. 

“What time does the train get here?” Genya asks, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the crowd. 

“Shouldn’t be long,” Sanemi says, digging into his pocket to pull out his phone. “About ten minutes.” 

Genya hums in acknowledgement, resting his head against his brother’s shoulder. Sanemi’s arm loops around his shoulder in turn, pulling him closer against his side. It's subtle, innocent enough to be written off as platonic, but it still makes Genya’s face burn. 

Any sort of public affection is rare from Sanemi, always so worried someone will see and somehow figure out their secret. It’s not like Genya isn’t worried too, but sometimes he thinks Sanemi takes it too far. There have been times he’ll get so paranoid that others will think they’re fighting because Sanemi will be so openly affectionate with his other siblings while acting like Genya barely even exists. 

But Genya tries not to let it bother him. He knows Sanemi loves him, that most of his fears come from how them being discovered would ruin Genya’s life rather than his own, but still. It does make him cling to these moments a little more when they do occur. 

It doesn’t take long before Sanemi starts twitching with impatience, his fingers rapping against Genya’s shoulder, and knee bouncing up and down incessantly. Genya’s not sure what he’s worried about—running late, being seen by someone they know, the night going well, or some amalgamation of all three things—but he wishes he could do something to soothe him. He can’t though, so he settles for poking at Sanemi’s side, trying to be playful.

“Soooo,” he draws the word out, just enough to earn an unimpressed glare out of the corner of Sanemi’s eye. “Where exactly are we going?”

Sanemi’s other hand comes up immediately, flicking Genya’s nose. “None of your business.”

“Oww,” Genya pouts, even though it didn’t really hurt. “You’re so mean, Nemi.” 

“Yeah?” Sanemi laughs, pulling his hand from Genya’s shoulder to ruffle his hair instead. “Well you’re a brat.” 

“Nemi!” Genya yelps, smacking his brother’s hand away. “I spent forever doing my hair!”

Sanemi only grins wider, messing it up even more. “Hey, you’re the one who said I was being mean.”

“Nemiii,” Genya whines, still trying to dodge Sanemi’s hand. “Stop it!”

Sanemi finally relents with one last ruffle before letting his fingers drift through Genya’s hair, smoothing it back down. “Sorry, baby. I can’t help it. You’re just so cute when you pout.”

“I am not pouting,” Genya objects, very much pouting. 

“Sure you’re not,” Sanemi teases, still combing his fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

Genya shivers. Sanemi is still staring at him, gaze sharp and hungry in a way that makes Genya’s heart race. The moment stretches, Sanemi’s hand sliding from his hair to his cheek, then lower, cupping his face. The word feels like it disappears around them, becoming just the two of them. They lean in at the same time, Genya’s eyes fluttering shut when—

A train comes screeching in, snapping the two back into reality. They jump apart, glancing around nervously, still anxious even when they find no eyes on them.

“I–uh—is that our train?” Genya stutters, staring at the ground in embarrassment and shame. 

“No,” Sanemi mutters, clearing his throat as he checks his phone again. “Our is… Shit, has it already been fifteen minutes? Our train should have been here by now.”

“Maybe it’s running late?” Genya offers meekly, twiddling with his fingers in his lap. 

“Of course,” Sanemi scoffs, irritation clear in his tone. “I swear if this stupid train makes us late to our reservation…” 

“Reservation?” Genya perks up at that. Sanemi made a reservation somewhere? “That’s so sweet of you, Nemi.”

“Shut up,” Sanemi grumbles, but the light pink dusting his cheeks betrays him. 

Genya giggles to himself, leaning in to rest his head back on Sanemi’s shoulder. He’s not trying to snoop, but the position leaves him looking directly at Sanemi’s phone and he can’t help scanning its contents. It’s their train tickets, he realizes, still pulled up from Sanemi checking them a moment ago. His eyes glaze over the train number, the time of arrival, the…

“Wait…” Genya sits up, grabbing Sanemi’s phone from his hand to double check his suspicions. “Nemi, that’s for tomorrow.”

“What?!” Sanemi snatches the phone back, eyes scanning over the information on the screen. “Fuck! Are you kidding me?” 

“I-it’s okay, Nemi!”  Genya quickly tries to reassure him, hoping to avoid causing a scene. “We can just get new ones, I’m sure there’s another train coming through soon!” 

Sanemi’s jaw ticks. He’s holding his phone so tightly the veins in his arm are bulging, clearly putting all his effort into not snapping it in half. “Even if there is, we’re going to be late to our reservation.” His voice is clipped and careful, anger thinly veiled. 

“W-well how about you call the restaurant and let them know while I go buy us new tickets. Okay?” Genya offers, forcing himself to keep a reassuring smile on his lips. Sanemi’s lips purse, an argument on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down and nods.

“Sure,” he sighs, digging into his back pocket and passing Genya his wallet. Genya considers arguing, offering to pay for the tickets himself, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to do anything to irritate Sanemi further. He simply takes the wallet with a smile, stuttering out a quick “be right back” and making his way to the terminal to purchase tickets. 

Twenty minutes later, their new train arrives. Sanemi’s still visibly irritated, but Genya tries his best to lighten the mood by rambling about how excited he is to see what Sanemi has planned—throwing out increasingly ridiculous theories about what the date might involve until he finally gets a tiny, reluctant huff of amusement out of him.

But all that tension rushes right back the second they step onto the crowded train. There isn’t a single empty seat, so they end up standing, pressed shoulder to shoulder with strangers.  Genya considers making conversation to try and relax Sanemi again, but truthfully he isn’t sure what else to say and the train is already so loud with the conversation of other passengers that he doesn’t bother. He entertains himself with people watching instead, eyes scanning across the car. 

It’s mostly men in suits, working on their laptops even in this crowded train. They remind Genya a bit of Sanemi, the way his big brother is always working and rarely ever taking a break. Everyone seems to think he must secretly hate his job because of how angry he can get with students, but it’s really quite the opposite. Sanemi loves teaching, always has, and Genya can see that in how hard he works. 

Genya pulls his gaze away from the businessmen and scans the rest of the car. There are lots of teenagers in small friend groups, chatting excitedly about their weekend plans or the hottest gossip from school. Plenty of couples too, curled up at each other’s sides and sneaking little kisses that make Genya’s stomach twist with jealousy. He looks away from them quickly. 

What catches his eye next is a familiar sight. A lone mother wrangling her two kids, fighting to keep a young boy in his seat while a slightly older girl is crying on the other side of her. The mother digs into her bag, pulling out two juice boxes and presenting them like a peace offering . They both take them with a squeal and immediately are trying to tear into them. Hopefully they won’t make a mess.

Their mother looks utterly exhausted as she slumps back into the train seat, eyes dull in color with dark, heavy bags to compliment them. It tugs at Genya’s heart, reminding him so much of his own mother. He wonders if that’s what she looked like caring for himself and Sanemi before they were old enough to help her out. 

He makes himself look away when his throat starts to get tight, eyes glazing over as he stares out the window instead. The outdoors flies by in a blur. It’s a fairly long ride, and each stop that isn’t theirs makes it drag longer and longer. 

A few minutes before the next stop, the tired mother rallies her children, telling them it’s time to get off soon. Genya’s not sure why he cares, but he finds himself watching them. The girl helps her mother stuff her things back into her bag quickly, but the boy is bouncing in place impatiently. He evidently decides he’s tired of waiting for them, because suddenly he’s snatching items from his sister’s hands and tossing them into his mother’s bag with much less grace but admittedly more speed. 

Of course, it causes the sister to start yelling. And all at once the train car is filled with the screeching of two siblings fighting to be the one to help their mother. She tries to calm them the best she can, but Genya knows well how hard it is to get in between a sibling fight, especially at this age. He’s pretty sure at least one of his scars came from trying to separate Hiroshi and Teiko once.

In the chaos some container slips from the young boy’s hand, flying through the air and landing right in front of Sanemi’s feet. The force causes the container to suddenly pop open, and its content to explode upwards. Genya blinks, his brain whirring as it catches up with what just happened.

Sanemi is frozen in front of him, his entire body tense and eyes wide as he looks down at himself. Genya’s gaze lowers. Sauce. His shirt and vest are covered in a thick red sauce with small pieces of star shaped pasta. It’d almost be funny if Sanemi didn’t look like he was two seconds away from committing homicide. 

“Oh my god,” the mother gasps, looking like she might just start crying. “I’m so sorry I—”

“It’s okay.” Sanemi’s voice is gritted, each word clipped and forced out. “This is your stop. I can clean it up.” 

She hesitates, clearly torn, but the doors are open and soon enough the train will be moving again and she’ll have missed her stop. She quickly digs into her purse, pulling out a small pack of tissues and offering them to Sanemi. 

“Please, at least take these. It’s the least I can do.”

Sanemi takes a deep breath, his movements stiff as he accepts the tissues. “Thank you, ma’am. Get home safe.” 

She nods, giving him a guilty but grateful smile before wrangling her kids and scurrying off the train just in time before the doors shut and it starts moving again. Genya snaps out of his trance finally, taking the tissues from Sanemi’s hand and tearing open the packaging. 

“Let me clean it up, Nemi,” he says, more of a demand than an offer. Knowing Sanemi he’d just start wiping all over himself and make the stains even worse. 

Sanemi says nothing, but he doesn’t try to take the tissues back so Genya considers it a win. He pulls out a handful of tissues, starting the endeavor with plucking out the pieces of pasta clinging to the fabric. Once he has them all collected he folds the tissue and starts carefully blotting the shirt. 

“I-it’s not that bad!” 

It’s a lie, but it’s all Genya can offer to try and defuse some of the tension. Sanemi elects to stay silent, and really Genya isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. He just tries to focus on his task though. Their stop is coming up soon, and there’s quite a lot of sauce to clean up. 

It takes several minutes, but eventually Genya gets it to something almost acceptable. The lighter shade of Sanemi’s shirt isn’t as forgiving as his vest, though. The red of the sauce mixes with the green to create ugly brown stains, and no matter how much Genya rubs at them, they refuse to come out.

“It’s fine,” Sanemi finally says, exasperated but still gentle as he pushes Genya’s hands away. “That’s the best it’s going to get.”

Genya gnaws on his bottom lip but doesn’t argue, folding all the used tissues and stuffing them into his pocket. With his luck, some of the sauce will probably stain his jeans too, but he can’t bring himself to care at this point.

God, could this date get any worse?

“This is our stop,” Sanemi mutters as the train begins to come to a stop. Genya lets out a small sigh of relief. It should be easy from here. Get to the restaurant, sit down, order some food, and just enjoy their dinner. Hopefully the waiter won’t drop any food on them.

They step off the train quickly, Sanemi’s hand finding Genya’s again as they push through the crowd. It takes forever to get out of the station, but eventually Genya breathes in the cool night air, something in it restoring a bit of optimism. Maybe things won’t be so bad now that they’ve escaped that cursed train station.

Surprisingly, Sanemi doesn’t drop Genya’s hand as they make their way down the unfamiliar street. Genya glances around, trying to recognize anything around them. A store, a restaurant, a street name, but none of it rings a bell. He sort of lost track of how long they were on the train, but he’s pretty sure this is really far from home. 

“Jeez, this place is far away,” Genya muses aloud, not really expecting much of a response. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.”

“Yeah, well. I wanted to go somewhere people wouldn’t recognize us.” Sanemi squeezes his hand as he speaks, his voice gruff but with something softer underneath. 

Genya smiles brightly, his heart swelling in his chest. “Well I think it’s perfect, Nemi.”

Sanemi gives a quiet huff, his lips quirking into a small smile. The rest of the walk is spent in a comfortable silence, Sanemi’s hand warm in Genya’s, the simple gesture meaning more than either would ever admit out loud. 

Eventually Sanemi’s steps slow, and he tugs Genya into a building on their left. “This is the place.” 

 Genya looks up, eyes going wide. The restaurant isn’t just nice, it’s fancy. The kind of place you see in the movies and never dream of going in real life. Suddenly Genya feels self conscious, looking down at his simple dress shirt and jeans in dismay. Will they even let him in like this? Don’t these kinds of places have dress codes or something?

But Sanemi seems unconcerned, striding towards the hostess without a care in the world. “I have a reservation for Shinazugawa.” 

The woman looks up at Sanemi’s voice, her gaze lingering on his chest that would probably make Genya jealous if he wasn’t certain the look has absolutely nothing to do with Sanemi himself and everything to do with the stains marking the fabric of his shirt. Her lips purse for a moment, one brow raising judgementally, but she quickly masks it with a bright smile.

“Of course! Let me check the system real quick for you!” She taps on the tablet in her hand for a moment, scrolling for a solid minute with a small frown. “You said Shinauzgawa? How do you spell that?”

Sanemi sighs but spells it out, his foot tapping impatiently. The hostess taps her screen some more before taking a sharp breath that puts both brothers on edge.

“I’m sorry, sir… we had to give your table away,” she explains as politely as possible, and to her credit she at least has the decency to sound sheepish.

“What?” Sanemi lacks that level of grace, his voice coming out more like a growl. “I called ahead and you all told me it would be fine as long as we arrived within thirty minutes of the reservation.” 

“Yes, sir, that is our policy. But you arrived…” She checks the tablet again. “Thirty-five minutes late.”

“Are you fucking—”

“Nemi,” Genya cuts in, tugging his arm. Sanemi shoots him an irritated look, but it melts instantly under Genya’s pleading eyes. “It’s okay, we can go somewhere else.”

“That’s not the—”

“Shinazugawa!” 

The brothers jump apart at the familiar voice, both of their heads snapping to the left to see a large figure striding towards them, three women accompanying him. Oh boy…

“My, my, you clean up nicely, Sanemi,” Tengen drawls as he reaches them, his eyes raking over Sanemi’s frame without shame before turning to Genya. “And look at you, kid. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything nicer than your school uniform. Who knew the Shinazugawas could look this good?”

“Oh you’re just adorable, Genya!” Suma squeals, bursting forward to practically tackle him. Genya chokes, his face instantly becoming hotter than the sun’s surface as Suma pinches at his cheeks with glee. “Purple suits you so well! And your hair looks so cute like this!”

“Suma! Give him some space!” Makio shouts, smacking Suma on the back of her head.

“Owww! Tengen, she hit me!” 

“Ignore them,” Hinatsuru says softly, appearing at Genya’s side. She smiles and gently brushes the front of his mohawk into place. “You do look lovely, though. Is it just you and Sanemi tonight?”

“Y-yeah, we uh…” Genya stammers, scrambling in his mind for any excuse as to why his big scary brother would be taking him and just him to a restaurant this nice. “It’s just um… a reward. For my last shooting competition.”

“How sweet of him,” she responds kindly, though there’s something in her tone that makes Genya nervous. 

“What the hell are you all doing here?” Sanemi growls, dragging Genya’s attention back to him.

“Treating my wives, of course!” Tengen booms, throwing his arms around Makio and Suma’s shoulders. “What are you doing here? I didn’t take you for the fine dining type.  More like… the gas station ramen type.”

“I’m not—,” Sanemi makes an exasperated noise, crossing his arms defensively around his chest. “We’re just here to—”

“To celebrate my win!” Genya cuts in, earning a surprised look from all parties present. But he figures it’s better than Sanemi giving a different excuse and digging them into a deeper hole. “For my last shooting tournament. I uh… got first place.”

Tengen raises a brow, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Really? Well, it’s about time you started supporting your little brother’s hobbies, Sanemi.”

Sanemi’s jaw tightens at the not-so-subtle jab, but he doesn’t argue. “Yeah. About time.” he exhales, glancing around the restaurant with a frown. “Doesn’t matter anyway, we missed our reservation. Guess we’ll see you later.”

Sanemi is already turning away, his hand reaching out to grab Genya’s arm and pull him along, but Tengen cuts in first. “Well hang on!” 

Sanemi’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, a deep sigh escaping him. “What?”

“Well you should celebrate as you intended!” Tengen declares loudly, and Genya can’t help but cringe at how many eyes are on them right now. “They gave us a table for six, you could join us!” 

“Ohh!!” Suma squeals excitedly, practically hopping up and down. “Yes, yes, yes! Please join us!!”

“Pass.” The answer is immediate, not even entertaining the suggestion for a second.

“Oh don’t be so hasty, Sanemi,” Tengen scoffs. “This is supposed to be for Genya, right? You don’t want to ruin his night, do you?”

Genya frowns at that, now feeling himself grow annoyed. Sanemi hasn’t ruined his night—he never could. Genya doesn’t give a damn about the restaurant, he just wants to spend time with his brother. Alone, preferably. 

“I think we’re just going to find somewhere else to go,” Genya says simply, though part of him does want to scold Tengen for his little jabs. But Sanemi is already angry enough for the both of them, and he’d rather things not get worse. 

“Ouch,” Tengen presses a hand to his chest as if wounded, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Fine, fine. I get it. I see how it is.”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, dragging a hand over his face. “Shut it, Uzui.” 

“You two have a good night,” Hinatsuru cuts in, always the reasonable one of the group. She herds her husband and wives, pulling them back to their table with shouted goodbyes and blown kisses. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Sanemi grumbles under his breath, face flushed red with embarrassment. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Genya doesn’t argue. He hangs his head as they exit the restaurant, painfully aware of how much of a scene they’ve caused. He can’t even begin to imagine how much worse it would have gotten if Sanemi actually agreed to spend the evening with the Uzuis. A murder probably would have taken place. 

“Fuck, everything is going to be packed at this hour,” Sanemi groans, scrolling through his phone to find something nice. “Stupid fucking reservation—it was five fucking minutes! Five! They couldn’t have waited a little longer?”

“Nemi, it’s okay,” Genya insists, slipping a hand around Sanemi’s arm again. “We can just go somewhere simple, it doesn’t need to be super nice.” 

“But I wanted it to be something nice,” Sanemi snaps, causing Genya to flinch. He pauses at that, his expression twisting with guilt as he sighs. “Shit—I didn’t—I’m not mad at you, baby. I’m just… frustrated.”

“I know…” Genya mumbles, his gaze flickering away. 

“I just… I…” Sanemi sighs, running his hand through his hair. “I had this whole night planned out and nothing is going right. I wanted to dress nicely and take you somewhere decent and it just… it’s all just turning into a nightmare.”

“It’s not a nightmare,” Genya argues, meeting Sanemi’s gaze again. “I’m having a good time.”

Sanemi scoffs. “Yeah right.”

“I am!” Genya asserts, serious now. “I don’t care about fancy restaurants, Nemi. We could be eating soggy rice in some dark alley and I’d still be happy as long as it’s with you. All I care about is spending time with you, nothing else.”

Sanemi’s expression softens, a stupid grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re such a sap,” he mutters, turning away to hide his blush. “Well come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Genya giggles, happily trailing beside Sanemi. “Where are we going?”

“There’s this restaurant—‘Jak Omakasea’—that’s about ten minutes away. Kanae mentioned it once,” Sanemi explains, pulling up directions on his phone. “We’ll take a bus there, I’m tired of walking around out here.”

Genya nods in agreement, the two of them making their way to the nearest bus stop. The night feels calmer now, like maybe all the chaos has been left behind. He doesn’t care about the fancy theatrics, anyway. Genya would happily just spend the night in some dingy back alley kitchen if it meant having some time alone with Sanemi. Everything else is just extra fluff. 

For once, luck seems to be on their side—the bus pulling up only a few minutes after the two brothers arrive at the stop. 

“I think that’s the first decent thing to happen tonight,” Sanemi grumbles with an amused huff, stepping to the side to let Genya enter the bus first. His eyes scan the vehicle for empty seats, preferably without too many people nearby, but instead his gaze catches on familiar white hair.

“Ume!”

Ume’s head pops up, a wide grin taking over her face. “Genya! Come sit with me!” 

“What? Wait—”

Genya barely registers Sanemi’s voice behind him, already shooting down the aisle to Ume. He slides into the seat beside her before Sanemi can even hope to object, happy to see someone else he knows—or well, someone that he actually likes. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you on the bus,” Genya laughs, catching a glimpse of Sanemi dropping into the seat behind them as the bus lurches forward. “Where’s Gyutaro?” 

“Working,” Ume says with a sigh, slumping against his side. “I was hanging out with Kaigaku, but he pissed off his Gramps and got grounded while I was there. Old man offered to drive me home, but I just wanted to get out of there, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” There have been plenty of times Genya’s seen Kuwajima yelling at Kaigaku, and it’s always just as awkward as the last time. “For an old guy he’s kinda scary.” 

“I know right,” Ume snickers. “I don’t even know why he decided to retire, he could totally still be a coach. He’s like crazy strong.” 

“Yeah, but I’m sure taking care of Kaigaku and Zenitsu is exhausting,” Genya says with a smirk. “Besides, Coach Soyama is really great. I’ve really liked working with him.” 

“That’s true,” Ume agrees, tilting her head back with a mischievous smirk. “Plus he’s kinda hot, don’t you think?”

Genya rolls his eyes. “You’re a freak.”

“I’m serious!” Ume protests through giggles. “Gyutaro used to hang out with him when he was younger and he looked so stupid. Pink hair and fake tattoos—it was ridiculous.”

She wheezes at the memory before continuing, “But then he left for college and came back with his natural hair and big muscles. He’s like, uber hot. His wife is so lucky.”

Genya snorts, shaking his head. “You sound like you’re in love with him, Ume.” 

“Maybe I am,” Ume shrugs, though they both know that isn’t true. “Would you still love me if I dated your coach, Genya?”

“Mmm,” Genya hums, pretending to consider it. “Well, I’ve supported you through worse.”

“I feel like I should be offended at that,” Ume says, eyes narrowing up at Genya. “But you’re right, so. I guess I’ll let it slide.”

“How generous of you.”

“Damn right.” Ume sighs, sitting up to look at Genya properly. Her hands come up, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “You look sexy. What are you up to tonight?” 

“Just uh… getting some dinner,” Genya excuses, giving Ume the “we’ll talk about it later” look that they’ve both mastered. She raises a brow curiously but nods slowly in understanding.

“...Cool,” she shrugs it off, patting Genya’s shirt one last time. “Well, let me tell you about my night then.”

Ume slumps back against him, regaling Genya with the dramatics of her night. How Gyutaro had to stay late at work because he “hates her”—one of his coworkers called in sick and Gyutaro offered to cover—so she decided to look for other weekend plans. Kaigaku said he was free if she wanted to come over and have a drink, and some of their other friends would be there too.

What he didn’t tell her is that he was technically already grounded and not supposed to have anybody over. So when Kuwajima came home and found five random teens in his home well… he didn’t take it the best. The four other friends had come together and didn’t have another space in their car, and with Gyutaro still at work, Ume was forced to ride public transport. The horror. 

Genya listens to her stories with amusement, getting completely sucked into her storytelling the way he always does. So sucked in, in fact, that he fails to notice the way Sanemi broods behind him, his arms crossed and a vein bulging out of his forehead. Even worse, when the bus comes to a halt at Ume’s stop Genya is so focused on their conversation that he just stands with her, following her off the bus and chatting all the way. And Sanemi, too busy pouting to notice, says nothing to pull him back into reality. 

It’s only when Ume and Genya are halfway down the sidewalk, still chatting about the new set of nails she got done yesterday, that it finally hits Genya like a brick. His footsteps stop suddenly, his head whipping around and realizing Sanemi isn’t there. He looks back to the street just in time to see the bus flying past them, a prominent blur of white hair on the other side of the window before it’s gone. 

“Shit.” 

“Oh damn,” Ume giggles, one hand coming up to cover her mouth. “You weren’t supposed to follow me, dummy.”

The realization must hit Sanemi at that same moment, because not even a full minute later Genya’s phone is ringing. He picks it up with a sigh.

“I’m sorry Nemi, I—”

“Don’t,” Sanemi cuts him off, exhaling sharply. “Just… don’t. It’s fine. Just stay there. I’ll get off at the next stop and walk over, it’ll be quicker than waiting for the bus to loop back around.”

“I’ll just meet you at the next stop!” Genya offers.

“No,” Sanemi answers immediately. “It’s getting dark, I don’t want you walking alone.”

“I’m not alone, Ume’s with me.”

“Oh. Right.” Sanemi pauses for a moment like he’s considering something. “You should walk her home, then. She shouldn’t be walking alone either. I’ll meet you outside her place.”

“Nemi I—”

“Just walk her home,” Sanemi interrupts, exasperation clear in his voice. He sighs, softer this time. “Please.”

“...Okay,” Genya concedes. “I’ll see you there.”

“Good. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

With that, Sanemi hangs up the phone. Genya takes a deep breath, letting out a long, tired sigh. His hands come up to cover his face, palms pressing into his eyes. 

“Sooo,” Ume drawls, inching closer to Genya. “What are you actually doing tonight?”

Genya huffs, dropping his hands from his face. “Well, we’re supposed to be on a surprise date,” he explains, nudging his head for her to start walking again. “But instead it’s just been one problem after the next. Seriously, nothing has gone right tonight.”

“Oh come on,” Ume chides, looping her hands around his arm as they walk. “It can’t be that bad.” 

Genya just laughs, starting the long spiel of everything that’s gone wrong today. From the simple inconveniences of struggling with the math packet and his absurdly tight pants to the incorrect tickets, the careless child that ruined Sanemi’s shirt, missing their reservation, dealing with the Uzuis, and now this. 

“Okay I lied,” Ume laughs, “It is that bad.”

“You’re telling me,” Genya mutters, but there’s no real heat to it. Really it feels a bit less overwhelming now that he’s gotten the chance to rant about it. “I just… I want the rest of our night to be decent, you know? All I want is some good food and some quality time with Sanemi. That’s it.”

“Where are you two headed now?” Ume asks, glancing up at him curiously. 

“Uhh, some restaurant Kanae suggested,” he answers, searching his memory for the name. “Jak Omakasea? I think?”

Ume’s nose wrinkles, and she immediately shakes her head. “No, no, no. Absolutely not. That place is awful,” she declares, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “That will only make your night worse.”

Genya groans. “Great.”

“Don’t worry, I know a good place,” Ume says proudly. “There’s this really good ramen shop nearby, like one of the best. Gyutaro takes me there all the time. And it’s really secluded—” she nudges Genya’s side, wiggling her eyebrows. “Perfect for you guys.” 

Genya laughs softly, nudging Ume back. “Should’ve known you’d have the best suggestions.”

“Duh,” Ume agrees. “If anyone knows how to have a nice but private date it’s me. You think I’m settling for zero dates just cause people are judgy? Hell no. I’d make Gyutaro drive us halfway across the country if that’s what it took.”

Genya snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, I believe that. He’d do it, too.”

“He would,” Ume chirps with pride. 

They fall into insignificant chatter once more. Ume gives Genya instructions on how to get to the alleged ramen shop—she can’t remember the name, but she knows the location and describes it the best she can. Can’t miss it, she says. From there the conversation drifts to random topics—from their relationships to school, plans for another weekend, gossip about some girl Ume fought with, and anything else that pops into their heads. 

Soon enough they’re in front of Ume’s apartment complex, but she insists on staying with Genya until Sanemi arrives. 

“You’re too pretty to be outside all alone this late,” she insists, earning another laugh from Genya.

About twenty minutes tick by until the sound of heavy footsteps reach their ears, both of their heads perking up at the sound. Sanemi quickly jogs into view, looking tired, sweaty, and just absolutely done with this night. 

“Welp.” Ume pats Genya’s arm, flashing him one last smile. “You boys have a fun night. Hope nothing else goes wrong—but if it does send me pictures.”

Genya rolls his eyes, waving her off. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you on Monday.”

When he turns back around Sanemi is already in front of him, his breathing slightly labored as he wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Genya’s heart twists with guilt, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Sorry…” he mumbles, barely audible. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t believe I just followed Ume off the bus.”

“It’s fine,” Sanemi sighs, grabbing Genya’s hand and pulling him back towards the street. “But I don’t think we’re going to make it to that restaurant in time.”

“Oh!” Genya perks up. “Ume actually gave me a suggestion for somewhere nearby. A ramen shop she likes to go to. And you know how picky she is, so it’s gotta be good.”

“That’s true,” Sanemi agrees, mildly amused. “What’s it called?” 

“Well…she couldn’t remember,” he admits sheepishly. “But she explained where it was! I’m sure we can find it, she said it’s impossible to miss.”

Sanemi raises a brow at that, clearly uncertain, but he doesn’t try to argue. “...If you’re sure.” 

“I am!” 

He isn’t, but how hard can it be?

Turns out, very. Fifteen minutes later and they’re spinning in circles, trying to navigate the maze of alleys to find this alleged ramen shop. Initially the idea of it being secluded sounded appealing to Genya, but now he thinks it might be a bit too secluded. 

“I thought she said you ‘couldn’t miss it?’” Sanemi huffs, arms crossed tight across his chest.

Genya shrinks a little, head spinning around as he tries to spot a glimpse of something even resembling a restaurant. “I’m sure it’s here somewhere…” 

He’s tried calling Ume twice now, but each time it just goes to voicemail after ringing for a minute. Knowing her, she probably grabbed a bag of chips and passed out on her couch while eating them. Genya almost envies her. 

They scutter down alley after alley, the air reeking of garbage and rot, the sky getting darker and darker. Genya hopes maybe the darkness will make the lights of the ramen shop stand out more, but that hope is short lived as the moon quickly becomes the only source of light in this labyrinth. 

“Oh! I could try calling—”

Genya’s sentence cuts off as a droplet hits his nose. He freezes, looking up in confusion. Another hits his cheek, then another on his chest. And then the sky opens up. All at once rain comes cascading down on them, soaking their clothes in a matter of seconds. 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me,” Sanemi snarls, hands curling into tight fists at his side. “This is a joke. This has to be a fucking joke.”

Genya’s shoulders begin to shake, and for a moment even he thinks he’s going to devolve into a sobbing mess. But instead a sharp, borderline manic laugh rips out of his throat. Sanemi freezes at the sound, watching his brother with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“This is—” Genya can barely get the words out between giggles. “This is the worst date we've ever been on. The worst date anyone has ever been on.”

He doubles over, clutching his stomach as the laughter overtakes him completely. His lungs hurt from how hard he’s giggling, but he can’t stop. Seriously, what the hell did he do to piss off the universe this much? What God is out to get them? 

A small huff escapes Sanemi—then turns into something bigger. Genya looks up between laughs, watching a wide, disbelieving smile take over Sanemi’s face before suddenly he’s laughing too. Not his usual gruff chuckle, a real gut laugh, one that borders on hysterical just like Genya’s. 

“This really is the worst fucking date in history,” Sanemi gasps between laughs, running a hand through his dripping hair.

“Absolutely,” Genya agrees, still giggling. “God, what else could possibly go wrong?”

“Don't jinx it,” Sanemi warns, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Come here.”

He grabs Genya's wrist and nudges him back, pressing him carefully against the wall of the alley. Normally Genya might be a little annoyed at his nice clothes touching the nasty walls, but truthfully he can’t bring himself to give a damn anymore. 

Sanemi cups his face with both hands, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks. “How do you still look so damn pretty like this?”

Genya flushes, his hands coming up to rest against Sanemi’s chest. “Shut up…”

“I’m serious,” Sanemi says, pressing an inch closer. “You’re the only decent thing about this night. At least I’ve got a pretty view, if nothing else.”

“Is that right?” Genya teases, raising a brow. “I’m just a pretty view to you?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes with a playful huff. “Yep, you caught me. I’m just here for your good looks. When you get all old and wrinkly I’ll find some younger man to marry.”

“Hey!” Genya smacks Sanemi’s chest with both hands, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Don’t be mean!”

“I’m just kidding, baby,” Sanemi murmurs, though he’s still got that annoying smirk on his face. “You know I’ve only ever loved you.”

Genya swallows hard, his heart fluttering in his chest. He’s sure he must look like a damn tomato right now, but he can’t help it. He’s still not used to this, these soft moments where Sanemi actually uses his words to express affection instead of always trying to show it through action. They’re rare, even after all these years together, and each time it turns Genya into a flustered mess. 

He feels pinned under Sanemi’s gaze, his breath hitching as Sanemi’s thumb brushes gently across his bottom lip. He leans in slow, their lips brushing together in the lightest touch—

Then Sanemi’s phone rings. 

Sanemi jerks back with a growl, digging in his pocket with a ferocity that makes Genya think he might just chuck the damn thing across the alley. But as he reads the screen his expression shifts, turning from anger to concern.

“Shit, it’s Ma,” he mutters, immediately swiping up to accept the call and placing the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?”

Genya’s stomach twists as he waits for Sanemi’s reply. Mom always tries not to bother them when they’re out unless she absolutely has to, and that makes Genya afraid something serious has happened. Is one of the kids sick? Or hurt? Is mom hurt? 

“No, that’s—” Sanemi sighs, his eyes squeezing shut. “It’s fine, Ma. We’re a little far, but we’ll be home as soon as we can.”

Genya frowns, still curious but his anxiety easing a bit. It doesn’t sound serious more… annoyed? Or like an inconvenience? 

“Don’t apologize,” Sanemi insists, sighing softly. “I know how your work is.”

Work. Mom got called into work. Of course. Of course out of all nights they call her tonight. The one night where she’s off and Sanemi and Genya are both free. Of course.

Genya snorts, the absurdity hitting him all at once. His hand clasps over his mouth, but it does little to contain the giggles bubbling out of his throat. Sanemi glares at him, smacking his arm in warning, but it only makes things worse. 

“Shh!” Sanemi hisses, even as his own lips quiver with barely contained laughter. 

Genya tries biting his lip, but it doesn’t help. The laughter is bubbling deep in his gut, and he knows it’s about to burst out of him again. He turns, trying to speed down the alley and get away—but his shoes slip on the slick asphalt, sending him flying straight into the ground with a loud riiiiip echoing behind him. 

Genya freezes, the laughter dying in his throat as he feels the cool air breathing into places it shouldn’t. His hand reaches frantically behind him, proving his suspicions right. He feels the rather large rip in the fabric, leaving his stupid watermelon boxers completely exposed. 

He groans, rolling onto his back and covering his face with both hands. He doesn’t even care about how disgusting the ground probably is, or how the rain is absolutely soaking him, he just wants to curl up into a hole and die. 

A few feet away Sanemi snorts, followed by a deep chuckle. “Now that… that was the best part of tonight.”

“I hate you,” Genya mutters behind his hands. “Just leave me here. I’ll rot in this alley.”

“Oh shut up,” Sanemi laughs, gently kicking at Genya’s side with the tip of his shoe. Genya peeks through his fingers, seeing Sanemi smiling down at him, hand extended. “Come on, Ma’s picking us up.” 

Genya huffs, considering arguing just to be a brat, but ultimately he grasps Sanemi’s hand with his own, letting him pull him to feet. “What exactly did Mom say anyway?” he grumbles, wrapping his arms around himself. It does nothing to abate the chill, though. Not with how utterly soaked he is. 

Sanemi notices, wrapping an arm around Genya’s waist and pulling him close. “Just that she has to go to work, so she needs us to watch the kids.”

Genya sighs. “Of course.”

“C’mon.” Sanemi nudges his side, pulling him forward. “Let’s just get home so you can get dry. Hopefully they won’t kick us off the train for ruining the seats.”

Genya lets out a tired laugh at that, falling into step beside him as they head back toward the train station.

Thirty minutes later, the two brothers are walking into their home, still dripping from the rain—though of course now the sky is perfectly clear, stars shimmering almost tauntingly. They step inside quietly, listening for any signs of life. Mom said she put the kids to bed, but you never know with the twins. Neither of them hear anything though, and both let out a small sound of relief.

“Go get a shower,” Sanemi murmurs quietly in Genya’s ear, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. “I’ll check on kids. Don’t need you getting hypothermic on me.” 

“You’re wet too,” Genya scoffs, though they both know he isn’t nearly as soaked as Genya. Or as exposed. “I’m getting rid of these boxers, by the way. They’re cursed.”

“You better not!” Sanemi gasps, sounding more offended than Genya would have imagined. “I bought you those! They’re my favorite!”

Genya blinks at Sanemi, holding his gaze with disbelief. “...They’re watermelon.”

“That’s your favorite!”

“Not for boxers!”

“Whatever.” Sanemi waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Go shower. And if I find those boxers in the trash I’m buying you twenty more and burning all your other underwear.”

“You’re insane,” Genya laughs, but he doesn’t bother fighting anymore. You can’t argue with crazy people…

He just shakes his head fondly as he speedwalks back to his room, trying to move through the house quickly so there’s as few puddles to clean as possible. He snatches the first shirt and pants he sees and rushes to the bathroom. He steps into the tub first before peeling off the sopping wet shirt, tossing it into the sink. The pants go straight into the trashcan, and while he’d love to throw the boxers in too he honestly believes Sanemi’s threat. So instead they join his shirt in the sink, much to his own dismay. 

He turns the knob, hot water hits his skin like a blessing. Genya nearly moans at the feeling, standing under it for a long moment as the water warms his body. His skin prickles from the sudden change, goosebumps rising across his arms, but it feels like heaven all the same. 

As he washes his hair, the events of tonight replay through his mind. It was meant to be the perfect date—their first real one in months—and yet it turned into the biggest catastrophe ever. But somehow, Genya finds he isn’t that upset. There’s lingering anger and disappointment, sure, but there’s a weird charm to it. Fancy restaurants have never been their thing, anyway. Chaos has always been where they thrive. 

Once done, Genya steps out of the shower, making quick work of drying himself off. He’s exhausted and starving, and all he wants is to go make some food then get to bed. He grabs his dry clothes, actually looking at them for the first time. It’s just some worn sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Sanemi’s, and something about that makes Genya smile.

Finally dried and dressed, Genya makes his way to the kitchen, his stomach growling as the scent of food reaches him. He isn’t quite sure what it is, but the mix of spices wafting through the air make his stomach growl incessantly.

His steps come to a stop in the kitchen doorway, finding Sanemi standing inside dressed in a plain white tank top and black pajama pants. His hair is still damp, only half-dried by a towel judging by the way white strands stick up in all directions. Despite that, he still looks annoyingly handsome. He always does.

As if sensing Genya’s gaze, Sanemi’s head turns, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“Hey,” he says, lifting a steaming bowl in Genya’s direction. “Made some ramen, Just the instant kind, but hey. It’s hot.”

On cue, his stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl, damn near echoing through the house. Heat floods Genya’s face as Sanemi laughs at him. 

“Guess I don’t need to ask if you’re hungry,” he teases, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Genya can’t help letting out an amused huff too, quickly crossing the kitchen to take the bowl. “Shut up. I’m starving.”

Sanemi chuckles, grabbing his own bowl and leaning against the counter as he shovels noodles into his mouth. Genya follows suit, slurping up the food without a care for manners.

“This is the best ramen I’ve ever had,” Genya mutters with food still in his mouth.

Sanemi snorts, raising an unimpressed brow. “I literally just microwaved it.”

“Don’t care,” Genya says between bites. “This is perfect.”

Sanemi’s gaze lingers on Genya, something fond in his expression as he watches him practically inhale the noodles. The intensity of his gaze makes Genya feel shy, his chopsticks moving a bit slower. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sanemi shakes his head, setting his bowl onto the counter. “I’m just… I’m sorry tonight was such a disaster. I really wanted to do something nice for you.”

Genya swallows, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a disaster. Well… Okay. It was. But I still had fun.”

“Fun?” Sanemi scoffs, though his tone is more amused than anything. “We missed our reservation, got lost, and then got soaked in the rain. You call that fun?”

“I do,” Genya says simply, finishing the last bite and setting his bowl in the sink. “Because I was with you. That’s all that matters.”

Sanemi’s expression softens, melting into something vulnerable. He steps closer, one hand coming up to cup Genya’s cheek. “Damn sap.”

“You love it,” Genya teases, wrapping his arms around Sanemi’s neck.

“I love you,” Sanemi corrects, leaning in to press their foreheads together. 

Genya’s heart stutters, a stupid grin pulling at his lips. “I love you, too.”

The distance between them closes, lips pressing together in a tender, sweet kiss. There’s no rush to it, no hunger. Just something warm and comforting, like finally sinking into your bed after a long day of work. 

But of course as soon as they pull apart Sanemi has to ruin it. “At least I got to see your watermelon boxers. That makes up for everything.”

“Oh my god,” Genya groans, shoving at Sanemi's chest. “I hate you.”

Sanemi laughs, hands falling to Genya’s waist to pull him into another kiss. It’s shorter but no less sweet, a quick press of lips that drains any fight from Genya. 

“You love me.”

“God knows why,” Genya grumbles even as he leans forward to bury his face into the crook of Sanemi’s neck. He inhales deeply, feeling his body finally relax as he breathes in the familiar scent. Exhaustion sets in all at once, a yawn escaping Genya before he can stop it.

“Yeah me too,” Sanemi mumbles, one hand rubbing up and down Genya’s back. “C’mon, let’s get some sleep.”

“Don’t wanna,” Genya whines, his limbs feeling like lead weights. “I’m too tired.”

Sanemi groans dramatically, and Genya can practically hear his eyes rolling. “Fine.”

Before Genya can process what’s happening, the world tilts sideways.  His stomach lurches as he's hoisted into the air, strong arms hooked around him—one under his knees, the other around his back. 

“Nemi!” Genya yelps, arms wrapping instinctively around Sanemi’s neck. “Put me down!”

“Shush!” Sanemi hisses, already moving down the hallway. “You’re going to wake up the kids with all your shouting.”

Genya’s face flushes red, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I can walk,” he protests weakly, even as he nuzzles further into Sanemi. 

“You were just whining about being too tired,” Sanemi smirks down at him, adjusting his grip slightly. “Besides—why the hell else do you think I work out so much? Gotta be able to carry your ass when you’re being stubborn.”

The blush spreads down Genya’s neck, his stomach fluttering stupidly. “I’m not—” he scoffs, voice small. “I’m not a baby, you know.”

“You’ll always be my baby,” Sanemi says softly, pressing a quick kiss to the edge of Genya’s hair. “No matter what.”

His words steal whatever protests Genya may have had, his throat tightening with emotion. So he just presses his face further into Sanemi’s neck, letting himself be carried. When they reach Genya’s room, Sanemi nudges the door open with his foot and carries him inside, settling him down onto the mattress with such care it makes Genya’s heart ache.

Before Sanemi can pull away, Genya’s hand shoots out, fingers grabbing at the fabric of his tank top. “Stay?” it’s barely a whisper, and if he weren’t so tired he’d be horribly embarrassed by how needy it comes out. 

But Sanemi just huffs, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “I’m not going anywhere, dummy.” 

The bed creaks slightly as Sanemi crawls in beside him, settling onto his back. Genya immediately curls up against his side, head resting on Sanemi’s chest, arm strewn across his waist. Sanemi’s arm wraps around him, pulling him closer until there’s not an inch between them. 

“Get some sleep, baby,” Sanemi murmurs, pressing a kiss to Genya’s forehead. “I love you.”

“Mmm… iloveyoutoo,” Genya mumbles, the words slurred as his eyes flutter shut. He allows Sanemi’s steady heartbeat to lull him to sleep, a stupid, satisfied smile on his lips as he drifts off.