Work Text:
(25.)
Chishiya woke up at 5:47AM — about ten minutes before his alarm — to Arisu clinging to him like a koala in his sleep.
For a moment, he briefly considered the idea of extracting himself and starting his day early, weighing the pros and cons like he always did with everything else in his life, but his boyfriend was breathing warm against his collarbone and his alarm hadn't gone off yet.
It was ten minutes before he had to face the world.
He could totally afford that.
(24.)
“You're awake early,” Arisu mumbled sleepily as he padded into the kitchen an hour later, his hair sticking up in seven different directions. “Don't you have a day off today?”
Chishiya shrugged in response.
“I'm awake at this time every day.”
“Even on your special day?”
“My circadian rhythm doesn't care about arbitrary calendar dates, Ryō.”
“I figured you would say that.” Arisu chuckled softly, pressing a warm, easy kiss to the corner of his mouth, then headed towards the counter to prepare coffee for both of them.
(23.)
The coffee was really good, the scrambled eggs were done exactly how he prefered them to be, soft without being runny, and there was buttered toast on the side, plated in the way he usually had them in the morning.
Chishiya couldn't help but feel giddy for the rest of his morning.
(22.)
After breakfast, they decided to head out on a walk together.
The morning air was crisp and cold, December settling into Tokyo with its usual pale coat of clouds, and Arisu immediately held his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It still caught Chishiya off-guard sometimes — the casual intimacy of it all, the way his boyfriend just reached for him without a second of hesitancy. Their fingers laced together easily, fitting like puzzles clicking into their right place, and before he could second-guess himself, his fingers subconsiously gave that warm hand a small squeeze back.
“Where do you want to go?” Arisu asked, his breath fogging in the winter air.
“Anywhere is fine.”
“That's not a valid answer, Shun.”
“It's the only answer you're getting from me,” Chishiya retorted with a shrug, and his boyfriend just laughed in response, the sound clear and warm to his heart.
(21.)
They ended up at a small bookstore tucked between a convenience store and a ramen shop.
Chishiya hadn't been here in months, maybe longer, but Arisu remembered — of course he did — and steered them inside with that small, knowing smile on his face.
The shop smelled like old paper and coffee, and he found himself gravitating towards the medical section out of habit, while his boyfriend wandered off towards the manga aisle, close enough to sense each other but far enough to breathe.
It was… nice, actually.
Really, really nice.
(20.)
“Find anything good?” Arisu asked when they reconvened near the front, and Chishiya showed him the book he had picked out about experimental cardiology, which seemed to amuse him endlessly.
“That's your light reading for the week?”
“I contain multitudes, Ryō.”
Arisu snorted, then showed him a manga volume with a ridiculous sci-fi premise that he would probably stay up late reading tonight.
They paid for their books together, and Chishiya was ready to pay his share, but Arisu just wordlessly handed over his own and scanned his card before he could say a word about it.
“You don't have to—”
“But I want to.” His boyfriend smiled and carried the bag of books for him. “Now, shall we go somewhere else?”
(19.)
They stopped at a small shrine tucked between two apartment buildings after that.
It was the kind of place people walked past without noticing, modest and unassuming, but Arisu pulled him towards it anyway, hand warm and steady.
“Want to make a wish?” his boyfriend asked, fishing out a coin from his pocket.
“You know I don't believe in that sort of thing.”
“Humor me, yeah?”
Chishiya sighed but accepted the coin nonetheless, tossing it into the offering box and bowing perfunctorily.
He didn't make a wish — gods and goddesses had never been kind to him before, and he had survived just fine without any deity looking over him — but he did stand there for a moment longer than necessary, wondering if this was what peace felt like.
(18.)
Lunch was at a small udon place Arisu had been wanting to try for weeks.
The broth was rich and warming, perfect for the cold weather, and Chishiya found himself eating slower than usual, savoring his food in a way he rarely allowed himself to do. His boyfriend kept stealing glances at him between bites, like the man was checking for approval, and he pretended not to notice that even though he absolutely did.
“It's good,” Chishiya said at last when their bowls were empty, watching the smile bloom on Arisu's face with warmth flooding his chest.
They split the bill this time — he insisted, which the younger man relented eventually after a bit of back and forth between the two of them — and walked back out into the December afternoon with full stomachs and linked pinkies.
(17.)
They walked past a movie theater on their way through Shibuya, and Arisu paused at the poster display, studying the options with that thoughtful expression he got when he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“Want to catch something?” his boyfriend asked, and Chishiya glanced at the listings with mild interest. Most of them looked like typical commercial fare that he wasn't interested about, but there was this one about memory and loss and grief that caught his attention in a way nothing else did.
“That one,” he said while pointing at the poster, and Arisu smiled like the younger man had been hoping he would pick that exact movie for the two of them.
They bought tickets for the next showing and, with twenty minutes to spare, shared a bag of roasted chestnuts from a street vendor, their fingers brushing occasionally as they fished for the warmest ones.
(16.)
There were just them a handful of other people scattering in the theater room, and Arisu quickly led him to seats near the back as the movie slowly came to a start. The screen bathed them in flickering light, and his boyfriend's hand found his in the darkness between their armrests.
Chishiya didn't pull away.
He let their fingers entwine, let himself sink into the warmth of it, and when the film ended two hours later with its bittersweet conclusion, he realized his cheeks were wet.
Arisu didn't say anything about it, just squeezed his hand gently and passed him a tissue from his pocket, still warm and smelled faintly of apple shampoo.
(15.)
They left the theater in comfortable silence after that.
The streets were busier now, afternoon crowds flowing through Shibuya like a tide, but Arisu just held his hand and navigated through the stream of people easily, like it was never a challenge to begin with, and Chishiya was grateful for that — for the steady warmth and the way his boyfriend seemed to know exactly what to do and when to speak.
Some people, he thought, were just naturally good at existing alongside you.
And Arisu was one of them.
(14.)
The bakery was their next stop, and Arisu pressed his face against the glass like an enthusiastic child, pointing out different options to him with an eagerness Chishiya had learned to find endearing.
“Which one do you want?”
“I don't particularly care for sweets.”
“Shun, I didn't ask if you like sweets, I asked which one you want for today.”
Chishiya sighed, scanning the display case with a hum, then his eyes caught on a small strawberry shortcake in the corner — delicate and unassuming, not too sweet-looking — and he gestured toward that cake with faint amusement thrumming in his veins.
“If you insist, then… that one.”
Arisu's smile was blinding as he ordered it alongside a chocolate éclair for himself, and they left the bakery with a small white box in their hands.
(13.)
By the time they reached home, the sun was sliding behind the skyline, leaving Tokyo washed in amber and rose. Arisu kicked off his shoes the second he crossed the threshold and wandered toward the living room, while Chishiya set their books on the coffee table and placed the cake box neatly beside them. He then moved to the kitchen to start the kettle, listening to the familiar clatter of Arisu wrestling with their old speaker system behind him.
“What are you doing?” he called over the sound of boiling water.
“Setting the mood,” Arisu said without looking up. “It's a good day today, after all.”
“We're not teenagers anymore, Ryō.”
“No,” his boyfriend shot back, grinning, “but we can still have fun like them.”
(12.)
Music drifted through the apartment a moment later — something soft and warm, a little jazzy, like honey spreading over toast.
Chishiya brought over two cups of tea, setting them on the table beside the cake box, and Arisu turned to him with that smile again, the one that made his chest feel too full and too light all at once.
“Dance with me?”
“That's ridiculous.”
“Please?”
And because something in his existence was surprisingly kind today — or maybe because it was Arisu asking — Chishiya found himself nodding, setting down his tea and letting the younger man pull him into the center of their living room.
(11.)
They swayed together in the fading light, Arisu's arms wrapped around his waist and his own hands resting on those familiar shoulders.
Neither of them was particularly skilled at dancing — it was clumsy, almost awkward — but somehow it didn't matter. The quiet rhythm, the closeness, the soft hum of his boyfriend's voice against his ear… it all wove into a moment that felt suspended outside of time.
Chishiya exhaled, closed his eyes, and let himself simply be — if only for this brief, gentle slice of the evening — without the weight of everything else pressing down on him.
(10.)
They danced through three more songs before the playlist ended, leaving them standing together in the comfortable silence of their home, and Chishiya decided this was one of his favorite things to do for the rest of his life.
(9.)
The dinner they shared after their little dance was relatively simple — leftover curry from two nights ago, reheated and eaten at the kitchen counter while they talked about nothing and everything.
Arisu told him about a bug in his code that had taken three hours to fix, and Chishiya found himself actually listening, watching the way his boyfriend's hands moved when he explained things, animated and earnest.
“You're staring,” the younger man smiled as he pointed his fork at him.
“I'm observing.”
“Not the same thing.”
“Hmm, I wonder why…” Chishiya replied without looking away, and Arisu's ears turned pink in that way they always did when he was pleased.
(8.)
The strawberry shortcake was even better than it looked, delicate and not too sweet, exactly the way he preferred.
They ate it straight from the box with two forks after they finished cleaning the dishes, sitting close together on the couch with their legs tangled and the TV playing something neither of them was really watching. Arisu kept stealing bites from his side, and Chishiya let him do what he wanted, because this was his boyfriend, after all — the one magical person whose every small act had brought him a joy he once believed he would never feel.
“Good?” Arisu asked, licking cream from his fork.
“Acceptable,” Chishiya replied, which they both knew meant yes, very much so.
(7.)
Once the cake was gone, Arisu disappeared into their bedroom with a mumbled excuse about needing to grab something.
Chishiya stayed on the couch, listening to the soft sounds of drawers opening and closing, and wondered — not for the first time today — what it meant to be this content with someone else's presence in his life.
A year ago, he wouldn't have believed this was possible.
Two years ago, he wouldn't have wanted it to be.
But now, sitting here in the warmth of their shared apartment with the taste of strawberries still lingering on his tongue, he couldn't imagine anything else better than this.
(6.)
“Close your eyes,” Arisu said when he returned, and he raised an eyebrow at that strange request.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Humor me one more time today?”
He sighed but complied anyway, letting his eyes fall shut and listening to the sound of his boyfriend settling beside him on the couch.
There was a pause — long enough that Chishiya almost opened his eyes to check what was happening — and then something cool and solid was being pressed gently into his palm.
(5.)
It was a watch with the line Don't forget to come home engraved at the back of it.
“You mentioned once that your old watch was getting worn out,” Arisu explained, his voice quiet and a little uncertain. “And I know you don't really care about material things, but I really wanted to give you something that you could carry with you every time you have to stay late at the hospital, and—”
Chishiya made a quiet sound of protest and leaned in, kissing his boyfriend before this infuriatingly wonderful person could ramble himself into a hole. It was the clearest way he knew to say everything he struggled to articulate — that he understood, that he appreciated it, that this gift meant more than Arisu probably realized. The younger man made a soft surprised sound before melting into it like he always did, one hand coming up to cup his jaw while the other settled warm against his hip.
“I take it you like it?” His boyfriend asked when they pulled apart, his voice breathless and fond.
“It's perfect,” Chishiya said, and meant it with every fiber of his being.
(4.)
They ended up back in bed earlier than usual, tangled together under the covers with the heater humming softly at the corner of their room.
Arisu seemed to glow beautifully under their lamplight, and Chishiya found himself drawn in again and again, helpless against that gentle pull.
(3.)
His boyfriend's fingertips were warm as they brushed against the mole underneath his eyes, and he found himself leaning into that careful touch willingly, letting them learn every inch of his features that he once hated.
“You're beautiful, Shun.” Arisu smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling him closer. “You'll always be the most beautiful soul I've ever met.”
And Chishiya — as always — let himself believe those kind, gentle words.
(2.)
Eventually, Arisu reached over and turned off the lamp, washing the room in comfortable darkness. Their hands found each other instinctively, fingers linking together just as a soft kiss landed on his cheek, and then—
(1.)
“Happy birthday, and thank you for being here with me, baby.”