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Ino Takuma has been torturing himself for a total of one hundred and fifty-eight days. He remembers the beginning quite clearly. It was the twenty-first of July, and he’d just decided that he was going to marry Nanami Kento. Which was, by his own admission later that day in the mirror, a stretch. They’d never defined a date for their anniversary, and Ino couldn’t really quantify their relationship. They spent years working together, as Ino worked his ass off to get a recommendation for the man. When he got it, the two men, without discussing it, had gone on to partner for missions. Ino started bringing Nanami his sandwiches. Nanami began working less and less, and had more time to stop by Ino’s apartment to dust the surfaces and books, since the dust would make Ino sneeze and give him headaches.
When they kissed for the first time, as Nanami’s lips travelled from Ino’s forehead, to his nose, to his lips, in the back of a cab, getting home after a mission, both bloodied and panting, it didn’t feel like a sudden revelation. It was soft, and even though affection and love swirled in Ino’s chest, it never felt like a beginning. Rather, a natural progression. That had happened on a chilly day of January. About six months before their vacation to Jeju Island, when, seeing Nanami standing in the waves, enjoying the mist on his skin, Ino had first thought about marriage. About how a ring should really be on Nanami’s finger.
And, since then, his mind just hasn’t shut the fuck up. When everything in their relationship has been smooth as butter, even moving in together, of all things, all seamless and they’d never had to ask big questions or argue and it was all natural, why would he trip himself up now? On… on a meaningless question, really. A symbolic ring. And the question of, would you like to spend the rest of my life with me, Nanami? Kento. Because I would. I sure would like to spend the rest of mine with you, if you’ll have me. Of course he would. Ino can feel it, in the space behind his eyes, his heart, at the very unknowable core that makes him. There’s no tearing him and Nanami apart now. Perhaps in another life, where the world got the best of them. But not this one. They survived through hell in this one, and the world is changing. They don’t feel death breathing down their necks on the few missions they go on. He can imagine them, Nanami’s wrinkles growing deep. He wonders if he’ll notice the first few white hairs, or if they’ll be camouflaged by his blondness. He never dared to imagine those things before.
His mom had asked him once. Ino, what kind of girl do you see yourself getting married with in a few years? Ino had tried to picture it. Really tried. But he’d come up blank. Same as any time any neighbor or family member asked him about the future. It was a blank. Ino had never thought that his life would be one to reach the forties. Maybe even thirties.
Someone serious would do you good.
Huh.
Ino pauses his movements, slow and circular, as he cleans up the kitchen in his and Nanami’s apartment. She’d said someone back then. How… how’d he just noticed now? Years later? With a ring always tucked safely in his back pocket.
Mama, I think a serious guy would do me good too. But I’d be cleaning his dishes and making him a three course meal, don’t you worry!! I’d treat him right, mama.
Because he really just finished preparing a three-course meal. And even cleaned everything up too because he knows Nanami doesn’t like eating while knowing things are out of place in the kitchen. He can hear the key turning in the knob, the rattle of the door reverberating through the door, and making the dingy Christmas tree they placed way too close to the entrance rattle. He can hear Nanami’s tired sigh, the rustle of his clothing as he rolls his shoulders to get the knots out, the knots that Ino melts every morning, and that are back each night. And each sound is a newfound hell for Ino, who has still not thought of the wording. Is he going to get on one knee? Be straight to the point, as he knows Nanami would like? Do a sappy speech? He’d like to do a little sappy speech for his lover. He’d really like that. There’s so many ways to make Nanami smile and beam while proposing to him, and Ino curses at the universe that he gets to only pick one in this lifetime. Fuck. Choose. I have to choose, before he comes in here and starts talking to me and my brain goes quiet which is good but I need to focus—!
“Takuma.” Nanami chides, tone already scolding. As Ino turns around, he can spot two full bags of take out. “I tried to get here early, before you started breaking your back.” He gets closer, presses a soft kiss to Ino’s forehead. “Why are you already done so early?”
I couldn’t sit with my thoughts so I had to find something to do.
“Why are you complaining that your lovely partner cooked a proper Christmas meal for you? Perfect partner for the most romantic holiday.”
“Hmph.” Nanami laughs, his little huff-laugh that doesn’t even try to pretend to be offended. He presses another kiss to Ino’s forehead. The younger man starts to think he’s actually checking his temperature. “I don’t want my perfect partner all tuckered out in a few hours. Especially since he’s been talking about binging three different proper western Christmas movies in a row for months.” Another kiss, this time lower, and he presses his whole cheek into Ino’s to kiss his ear. Bastard’s not checking my temperature. He’s warming himself up!! “He’d wake up tomorrow and whine about not being able to stay awake. And then force me to watch movies in the morning like a lunatic.” Nanami’s laughing at his own joke in Ino’s ear, breath tickling him, and Ino’s right about to melt his clothes off, when the blond pulls away. “Thank you for the meal. Is it ready? Do I have time for a quick shower?”
Ino looks at the timer on the stove, trying and failing to be offended. “Fifteen minutes.”
Nanami’s hand squeezes Ino’s. “I’ll be quick, then.”
Three hours later, they’re cuddled up on the couch, Ino has a full belly, and his eyelids are drooping halfway through the first movie. Not that he could let Nanami win on this. He’ll spend every day of his life preparing ridiculous sandwiches for that man, but letting him win a fake argument? Absolutely not.
He’s counting the tiles on the ceiling, when the hot farmer guy drops to his knees in front of the CEO lady.
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
How the fuck could he forget? He wanted to propose tonight! And they just talked, and ate, and exchanged presents and ate some more and choose which movie to start with and he fucking forgot. As if a child in need of atonement, his head immediately whips around to Nanami, eyes wide and sparkling with emotion. Not that Nanami could have known that he’d forgotten. Before this great move.
They stare at each other, words flowing in the silence that stretches between their mouths. Ino’s hand shoots to his back pocket, grabs the ring, and finds Nanami’s own, under the covers. They hold the ring in between their palms. It’s warm. That ring has not been warm once in the months he’s had it. But it’s warm now. Their noses touch, they get even closer under the covers, and everything is warmer now.