Work Text:
“Achoo!”
Yuki turned his head and stared at Momo’s back, lips drawing thin. Momo’s shoulders shook as he sneezed again. Yuki got up from the mat and walked over to him.
“Momo-kun…” he called out. “Did you catch a cold?” He crouched down next to him.
Momo turned to face him. “No, no.” He waved his hands in front of him. “The weather is getting colder, but I’m care-” Another sneeze cut him off, this one louder than the previous ones. He turned his face away and covered his mouth with his hands.
Yuki reached his hand out and placed it on his forehead. Momo’s cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. His eyes were glazed but his temperature seemed alright. Momo drew back from him as if in a hurry.
“See, I’m fine. There’s nothing to worry about,” he reassured. He reached out to the shirt he’d been folding.
That did nothing to convince his partner.
“I’ll make some tea.” Yuki said, getting up.
Momo looked up at him, panic etched on his face. “Yuki-san, it’s okay, really.” He shuffled forward towards him. “I’ll make it.”
Yuki shook his head. ”It’s alright; go back to what you were doing.”
He returned a few minutes later with a tray and two cups of steaming hot tea. Momo’s eyes lit up and he hurried to take the tray from him. Yuki let him and after Momo set the cup on the low table, he sat down on the tatami mat.
“Yuki-san is so kind,” Momo praised. He blew some air into the cup before taking a small sip. He looked at him and smiled again. “Yuki-san’s tea is the best.”
Yuki smiled back at him. He looked down at his cup. White fumes rose from the dark liquid. “I wanted to put some honey to sweeten it but there was none left,” Yuki confessed. He gripped the cup between his hands, pressing his fingers unto the hot ceramic.
Momo shook his head. “It’s okay, it’s not like I have a sore throat.”
They sipped their tea and talked about trivial things until Momo finished first. He let out a big sigh. “That felt really good. Thank you Yuki-san.” He rubbed his hands on his arms and looked out the window. “You know, I really think this autumn might be colder than last year’s.”
Yuki’s eyes narrowed. There had been a drop in temperature but he didn’t believe it was that drastic. He stared at Momo. A thought formed in his head on why he might think that. The tea suddenly tasted bitter. “Maybe we should turn the heating on,” he suggested.
Momo’s bottom lip jutted out. “No way, it’s too early. Let’s save it for winter.” He sat up on his seat. “And anyways, I already feel warmer thanks to the tea.” He reached over and placed the empty cups on the tray.
“Momo-kun, I’ll do it.”
“No, you made the tea, I should wash the cups.” Momo stood up with the tray and Yuki stared at his back as he made his way out of the room.
His smile fell, dragging everything else with it.
…
A thin thread of cool air grazed his fingertips. If he put his ear to it, it’d sound like a whistle. Yuki pursed his lips and moved his hand away from the window-sill. He stared at his reflection on the window. It had been broken just a couple of months ago. The weather was warm at the time so there wasn’t a huge issue if you dismissed the bugs coming in or the constant fear of a burglar or serial killer entering uninvited. After numerous complaints, the landlord had gotten it fixed but it didn’t work the same. It’d block halfway through closing or at times the lock wouldn’t work, just like the front door. Both Momo and he kept check on it every night. Yuki stepped back and stared at the aging mats under his feet, the chipped paint on the walls and the little furniture that was scratched at the surface. He didn’t really care about those things. Not for now at least. What bothered him was far more important.
His hand was still pressed on the window when Momo came out of the bath. Even though it was earlier than usual, Yuki proposed to sleep early. Momo yelled an, “alright!” and, after he finished drying his hair, he took out the two futons, folded them out and got under the duvet. Yuki walked to the other side of the room and switched off the light; he went back around, sat on the floor and laid his arm on the low table. He stared down at the blank music sheet.
“Are you not going to sleep?” Momo asked.
Yuki turned to him. He was on his back, staring at him while supporting himself on his elbows. It could have been the light from outside which was casting strange shadows on his face but Momo’s cheeks appeared thinner. Yuki hoped that wasn’t the case.
“I will. A bit later; I’ve something to finish up.”
Momo nodded. “Alright, don’t stay up too late.” He fell back on the pillow and pulled the comforter up to his shoulders. He shifted, repositioned again and then stilled.
Yuki stared at his laying figure, waiting. Then, after he thought enough time had passed, he reached over the table and turned the small lamp on. The table lit up, showcasing new scratches and a stain that otherwise disappeared in the sunlight. He picked up his guitar and plucked on the strings as a warm up. He had been working on a new song for Re:vale’s debut for months now, not really coming up with anything useful. Earlier that day though, he had felt a wisp of notes rising within him. It was hard to grasp what it was; there had been too much noise to concentrate. Now, Yuki tried to not make too much noise himself. He played the notes from where he thought was the start. It was a soft tune, not what he wanted for their debut, but he played it nonetheless. It didn’t sound…right. He played it again and received the same result. His head bent in thought. A bead of water escaped from his hair. It landed on his sleeve. Yuki bared his bottom lip under his front teeth and played the melody again but with more force, louder than he should. His eyes widened a little in surprise.
That sounded a bit better.
His brows rose with interest. He played the tune again and glanced back at Momo. Maybe he could make him hear it tomorrow.
No.
This was nothing; the bare minimum.
Yuki swallowed and played the tune again. And again. And once again.
Something was wrong. Yuki blinked and looked down at the guitar strings, eyebrows furrowed. What came after that?
It was there just a second ago…
Yuki fumbled, he tripped and tried to grasp at the notes which had slipped off while others bounced off farther away.
Yuki grit his teeth whilst gripping hard at the guitar. A pained smile contoured his face.
Pathetic.
He heard the sound of blankets shifting behind him and spun around, alarmed. There were a few moments of still silence until he heard Momo’s soft breathing. He exhaled in relief and went back to his guitar. Though there was something that caught his attention. He looked back again and squinted in the dark. The comforter was trembling.
Concerned, Yuki put his guitar down. He shuffled closer and pressed his hands down on his futon and peered down at Momo. His eyes were screwed shut and there were lines on his forehead, as if he was having a bad dream. Yuki got closer and noticed he was shivering.
He’s cold.
Yuki stood up and walked around the futon, towards the side of the room, where the cupboards were. He slid the door open and crouched down, peering inside. He moved around a duvet cover but whilst lifting the quilt underneath, his hand hit the side of the cupboard. Hard.
Yuki cringed in pain and dropped the blanket. While doing so, he raised his head and it hit the edge of the cupboard shelf, making such a loud noise as if to wake up the whole neighbourhood.
Yuki cursed. A dull pain thumped on the back of his head. He shrunk down and touched the spot with his fingers. It ached.
“Yuki-san.”
Yuki closed his eyes in defeat. He lifted his head from the blankets and carefully got out the cupboard, making sure he didn’t hit the shelf a second time. He turned around, eyes narrowing to look at Momo. He was sitting up staring at him. Yuki could make out the outline of his face, though he could not see his eyes. “Did I wake you?” he asked.
Momo shook his head, and then stopped. “I heard a loud noise,” Momo admitted. He shifted positions so he was facing him. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“I am,” Yuki said. He shuffled closer towards him. “I was just getting a blanket out.”
Momo looked at the blanket and looked up at Yuki again. “Are you cold?” he asked.
Yuki smiled and shook his head. “This is for you.” He reached out for the duvet. “Wear this one and then put the thicker one on top.” he said.
Momo sat up straighter. “I’m not cold though.”
“Momo-kun,” Yuki said. ”You were shivering in your sleep.”
Momo shook his head. “I’m fine, really.”
“Momo-kun.” Momo stopped moving and stared at him. They held each other’s gaze. A few moments of silence passed. It was subtle but Yuki noticed it. Momo’s jaw was tensed and his lips were quivering. Yuki looked down at his legs. “Your legs are shaking,” he whispered. Yuki looked back at his face. He reached out and grabbed his arm. Momo took a sharp breath. “And you’re cold,” Yuki said, voice dripping with worry.
“Yuki-san, it’s fine,” Momo reassured. “The weather just got colder these days.”
Yuki dropped the blanket and stretched his hand out to Momo’s face. Momo shrank back. “Your cheeks are hot.” Yuki moved his hand up towards Momo’s forehead. “Momo-“
“Yuki-san.” Momo moved back. “It’s okay. I don’t have a fever.”
Yuki frowned. “You’re shaking all over.”
“You’re right, it’s cold. I’ll wear the blanket.” Momo dropped his gaze down on the blanket. He started to unfold it.
Yuki licked his lips. His hands hovered in the air. He wanted to reach out again but thought better of it and instead got up. “I’ll make you something warm to drink.”
Momo looked up at him. “No, Yuki-san, it’s okay.” Momo pleaded. But Yuki went out the room before he could hear Momo’s protest again.
He placed a pot on the stove, poured the milk and turned the knob. Fire lit up, engulfing the bottom of the pot before it settled to a low hum. His original idea had been another cup of tea and at some point beer mixed in with warm water; Yuki had laid both of those to rest in fear of Momo not being able to fall asleep.
He stared off at nothing and everything around him all at once. A drop of water came out of the tap. It made a dull sound as it hit the bottom of the plastic bowl. It was just background noise; an endless tune that kept him company in the dimly lit kitchen. He had accepted that the tap will probably keep on leaking even when they will move out of the place. If they do that is. With the direction his music was going, it was doubtful.
Yuki thought about his partner, and how hard he works, and how honest he is, and how he never grumbles or whines. He swallowed. He thought back to what Momo told him. How this autumn was colder than the other years. It wasn’t; it really wasn’t. Yuki wouldn’t know for certain, but he felt sure of that. The weather was just chilly enough that he’d just need to put an extra sweater on. And compared to him, Momo should be better at dealing with the cold. He used to play football after all; it was a requirement to wear shorts and kick around a ball even if it was minus ten degrees. But of course, back then, Momo was with his parents. He had fuller meals with meat and fish and most likely, a warmer bed. Yuki leaned on the counter, his fist clenched when he recalled how Momo had thinned out. He lost some of the muscle around his shoulders and looked skinnier, almost like a high school kid. He had a ton of stamina and yet always came home tired after a full day of dance lessons and part-time jobs. But his smile never left his face and his big eyes were always sparkling. And he never complained about their meagre meals. Or that Yuki couldn’t keep himself hired for even three days.
Clearly, the best decision right now would be to kill himself; to drown himself in a river or hang himself on a noose. So Momo wouldn’t suffer anymore, so he wouldn’t become skin and bones, so his eyes wouldn’t cave in, so he wouldn’t faint fro-
A pitched hiss rang in his ears.
Yuki’s head turned to the pot, eyes widening. The milk had foamed up and overflowed, turning the blue flames into angry orange sparks. He hurried to turn the stove off. A sweet burnt odour filled the tiny kitchen. His nose scrunched and he stared at the pot. White blobs dried on the steel and he could already guess where the brown stains would be left. It was a rare scene. Even if he wasn’t cooking these days, Yuki still considered himself a good cook. That could be debatable right now. He sighed, grabbed a washed mug and carefully poured the milk. He then set that on the tray and afterwards…Yuki stared down at the mug. Was he really going to give Momo just a plain cup of milk? Of course, they had nothing in their little apartment. Not even a little honey. Yuki had scraped the jar clean when he had made tea earlier and only came with a smidge on the edges of the spoon. But surely, there should be something to flavour the milk.
Yuki opened the top cupboard where they stored spices. He turned the bottles around, picked them up and put them down again. That is, until he reached a small container with brown powder. He brought it closer to him and read the label.
Cinnamon.
Yuki tipped the bottle around for the expiry date and grimaced. Then he looked at the bottle more inquisitively. He opened the lid, brought the bottle close to his nose and regretted it in an instant.
His nose flared up and the powder hit the back of his throat. His eyes watered as he spiralled into a fit of coughs. He suppressed a sneeze and turned his attention back to the bottle.
He tipped it to the side, letting a pinch of it drop on his palm. The colour was the same as regular cinnamon, brown with a bright undertone of orange and the taste was sweet and spicy with a twinge of bitterness on his tongue. And after he coughed on his sleeve a couple more times, Yuki deemed the cinnamon was safe to consume.
He scooped the powder up with a teaspoon. It hovered over the mug. His lips drew into a thin line. Yuki knew that spices were in general harmless to ingest, even if it did pass the expiry date. And this cinnamon looked perfectly fine. And yet, he didn’t know when he bought it or what he bought it for or more importantly, when he had opened it.
Yuki’s shoulders sagged and he wondered if he might actually poison his partner.
It’s alright. He assured himself. He tipped the spoon; half fell in, then the rest. Momo-kun’s strong. He won’t die.
Yuki stirred slowly, watching the powder dissolve, swearing to himself that if Momo were to even get just an upset stomach from this, he would jump off a roof.
Yuki picked the tray up and left the kitchen. It was so quiet he could hear the small echo of his own footsteps. He felt around the wall until he found the light switch and turned it on. The room lit up and a wide-awake Momo stared up at him. He sat upright; the large blanket covered his whole body with only his head out. It kind of made him look more adorable. He placed the tray in front of him. Momo looked down at it and then looked up at him again, eyebrows furrowed.
“It’s cinnamon milk,” Yuki explained.
“Oh.” Momo peered down at the mug. “You’re so cool.” He took his arms out of the blanket and picked up the mug. “Where did you even find cinnamon?”
Yuki leaned back and smiled at him. “It’s a spell.”
Momo leaned forward, like a child listening to a bedtime story. “Are you a magician?”
Yuki shook his head and sighed. “Hardly; I’m a musician with no inspiration, a person who’s only a burden to the people around him.”
“Noooo!” Momo cried. “Yuki-san is handsome!” A small frown made way on his face.
Yuki smiled at him. “Drink it before it gets cold.”
“Ah, yeah.” Momo brought the mug to his lips and took a small sip. He looked back at him. “Aren’t you having some?”
Yuki shook his head. ”I’m not cold.”
“But it’s good.”
“I’m glad.” He looked at Momo with tired eyes. “I’ll have it another time, okay?”
Momo looked as if he wanted to protest but he gave in and resumed drinking. After he finished, Yuki took the mug from him and returned it to the kitchen. He then cleaned the mug and the pot and also the stove so Momo wouldn’t have to deal with it when he woke up. When he went back to their room, Momo was already tucked in under the blanket. His large eyes stared at him. Yuki switched the light off.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” Momo asked.
“I am.”
“When?”
“Right now.”
“Oh.” Momo shifted to his left.
Yuki walked to the table, switched off the lamp and placed his guitar on the wall. He then laid down on the futon, to Momo’s right, and pulled the duvet on top of himself. He stared up at the ceiling. Even when the room was so dark, it looked old and worn-out. His eyelids grew heavy, fatigue setting in. His cold hands tingled from the warmth.
“Momo-kun.”
The only response he got was the sound of soft breathing. Yuki turned to his left. Momo’s lips were parted and his dark messy hair covered half his forehead. The blanket rose and fell as Momo inhaled and exhaled. Yuki let out a breath he wasn’t aware of holding; his eyelids closed at last.
...
Yuki woke up to a large sound. He stared at the sun peaking in from the curtains for a few moments. His eyes fluttered shut again. When he opened his eyes the second time, he didn’t know how long he had slept. Leaving the warmth under the duvet, he begrudgingly got up, and walked to the kitchen. Momo was already awake and buzzing with energy.
“Good morning.”
“Ah, Yuki-san!” Momo exclaimed when he saw him. “Breakfast is nearly ready.”
Yuki yawned and nodded in response. He went to the bathroom and came back to the kitchen a short while later. He walked over to the stove and turned it off.
“Yuki-san, I’ll do it.” Momo said.
“No, it’ll be faster if I do it.”
Momo nodded at him and then exited the room with two steaming mugs. Yuki poured the steaming water out of the pot. Using a cup, he poured the cold water that had collected on the plastic bowl throughout the night. As he peeled the eggs, his gaze narrowed to multiple stains on the wall. They were long vertical streaks, like when rain droplets hit the window and ran down. Yuki wondered if they always had been there.
After throwing the shells away, he placed an egg on each of the plates laid out on the counter and carried those to the other room. Whilst placing the dishes down on the table, Yuki eyed the mugs. What he assumed to be tea was in fact...
“Is this cinnamon milk?”
“Yes!” Momo said.
Yuki looked fondly at the mug. A pinch of cinnamon floated in the middle of the foam. “There's even froth.” He looked up at Momo. “How did you get that?”
“I put it in a glass jar and shook it really hard.” Momo said. “But the first time was a complete disaster. The lid came off and half of it spilled out.” He glided his hands through the air. "It splashed everywhere."
"Is that why your shirt is damp?" Yuki asked. Momo nodded. "And why the wall was stained?"
"It got on the wall?!" Momo said. His eyes widened in astonishment.
Yuki laughed. It was an easy and gentle laugh; one that so often made an appearance when he was with Momo. Momo got up from his seat but Yuki told him to eat first. He obliged. Momo expressed thanks for the food and then started eating his breakfast; which was a plain piece of toast and a mere boiled egg. Yuki’s grip on the mug handle tightened. He stared hard at his own plate.
Yuki brought the mug to his lips and took a small slip. It was creamy, with the distinct flavour of cinnamon and something else mixed in. Like honey. "Mmh, it’s sweet." Yuki looked at Momo as if asking him to explain why the milk was sweet.
"It's a spell."
"Oh my,” Yuki mused. “Are you a magician?"
"Hardly, I'm..." Momo looked down as if in thought. He shook his head and looked back up at him. "I'm just Momo!"
Yuki placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand. "I like Momo." Momo's cheeks flushed pink and his mouth opened as if to say something. He shut it just as abruptly and looked down. Yuki’s smile grew wider.
A comfortable silence rested over them until Yuki asked Momo his plans for the day. Momo put great emphasis on how he looked forward to the vocal lesson before lunch and the dance class in the late afternoon but hardly mentioned the multiple work shifts he had laid out throughout the day.
Yuki’s tongue touched the inside of his cheek. “I don’t really have anything planned.” He had tried to find himself a part-time job; multiple times in fact. His lack of social skills and his inexperience got in the way and at the end of the week, he was always told not to come back. Really, the only thing he could do was sing and dance. No wonder Ban left him.
"It's alright Yuki-san!” Momo said through a mouthful of bread. He swallowed. “Just focus on music, I'll work hard for the both of us."
At the mention of his music, Yuki glanced at the music sheet on the table which had two notes scratched unto it from the other night. The rest beat inside him; moths had already chewed large holes and spiders had laid their cobwebs. It frustrated him; he’d rather have no melody than a tiny amount. It was like having one bar of internet; he’d keep fiddling and beg for it to work instead of searching for something else to do.
Yuki looked back at Momo. When he met his eyes, Momo smiled at him, that same big cheerful smile that was brighter than sunshine. And it made Yuki feel better and breathe easier. He would be staring lifeless at the night sky on a corner of a dark and filthy alley if it wasn’t for his partner. Yuki longed to do something good for him; to not just burden him. And he would do that. He’ll work on their debut song even if he’d have to force himself to start from scratch.
After they finished eating, Yuki washed the dishes while Momo attempted to do something about the stains on the wall. Yuki observed him as he wet a small cloth and dabbed on it. His eyes travelled to the milk drops on the floor and some on the top cupboards. He made a mental note to mop the whole kitchen after Momo left.
“Wait, Momo-kun!” Yuki called out. Momo turned his head to him. Yuki left and came back with a dark blue sports jacket. "Wear something warmer."
Momo tilted his head to the side. “But it's so sunny.”
“It is, but the temperature might drop during the evening.” He held the jacket out. “This autumn’s colder."
Momo nodded his head in agreement. He thanked Yuki and wore the jacket on top of his hoodie.
“See you later! I'm going.” He opened the door, stepped out and cautiously closed it behind him. The door held for a few seconds before it creaked open. A strong cold wind blew in, opening it wider. Yuki wrapped his arms around himself.
"See you later..." he barely whispered his belated reply. He was too preoccupied. Too upset with how that jacket fit Momo looser now than when Yuki had first seen him in it.
He wondered what the view would look like from the top of the bridge.