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A quiet night with a violet sky and twinkling stars descends on the whole of Japan. In-between a forest of winding trees and criss-crossing paths meant to confuse the unfamiliar eye, a home. A small estate just a walk’s away from the next, and another after that.
The home is quiet. The hallways do not creak, though the wind whistles outside every time it brushes past the eaves.
Muichirou sniffles, wiping at his nose.
“I know, just give me a second, Tokitou-san…” Genya murmurs, carefully splitting Muichirou’s hair into three parts.
He takes a brush and calms each section until not a hair is out of place, and runs his hand through it. It’s silky smooth between his calloused fingers, marked by only a few, short years worth of time of maiming demon after demon. However, years before had hardened his baby-soft hands from strenuous physical labour, and yet he remembered those days fondly.
Genya shook his head. Best not be thinking about something so far-gone from his reach, especially when—
“I’m tired, Genya,” Muichirou said, though it was as close to a whiny bemoan as Genya had heard from the boy. Perhaps he even saw a bit of a lip. Snarky, he almost chided back.
Instead, Genya clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I know. You’ve said that several times, Tokitou-san, but you were also the one to ask me to—“
“Muichirou,” said boy corrects.
Genya stops for a moment, his fingers curled around a folded piece of hair. “What?”
Muichirou turns his head, his eyes deceivingly soft. “Muichirou,” he whispers again.
Genya feels his face warm a little. It’s childish, he knows that. It’s especially childish when he, really, should be beyond this already. It’s only a term of address, and, for gods’ sake, he’s kissed this boy like two times before. Two! Genya counted!
“R-right.” He still listens. “Muichirou-san… uhm… I’m almost done, then we can nap.”
Muichirou has yet to move his head back, though. Genya frowns at him. He’s going to have a pretty hard time actually braiding his hair if he can’t access it.
“Muichirou,” he repeats again. Genya furrows his brow.
“I know? That’s what I said; Muichirou-san—“ Genya refutes, barely baring a fang.
Muichirou wrinkles his face, cheeks still plump with baby-fat, and glares. He has quite the nasty glare; Genya can give him credit for that.
“Muichirou. Not Muichirou-san. Muichirou. I’m younger than you, anyway,” he says lazily, finally turning back around and finding something fascinating to stare into his lap about.
Genya is just glad to get back to it. He starts folding Muichirou’s hair again, and a braid slowly comes to fruition. Considering how long it’s been, Genya feels a prideful little smirk tug at his lips. He isn’t half bad at this, eh?
“Yeah, yeah…” Genya waves him off, despite how red his cheeks were before. “You still demanded I call you Tokitou-san when you were training me at the Hashira Training.”
Muichirou tuts. “I was your teacher, not an equal. Now I’m just…”
He gestures vaguely into the open air. Genya follows it with a silent stare.
“…Muichirou. Genya’s Muichirou,” he finishes.
Genya doesn’t like how red that makes him.
“Mhm…” He hums, shyly nodding his head. He thought the blush on his cheeks would’ve left for good after the initial correction. Now, he…
God, he was a mess.
Genya lowered Muichirou’s braided hair, and stopped his forehead against the back of Muichirou’s neck. Muichirou grunted, raising an eyebrow.
“What are you doing?” He asked, dry as always. Genya mumbled something incoherent into his neck.
Muichirou resisted a shiver, instead frowning at him again. “I can’t hear you. Speak up.”
“I said,” Genya glares at him over his shoulder, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Tokitou Muichirou.”
He hated how smug Muichirou looked. With a twinkle in his eye and his lips pulled into a straight line, Muichirou hummed contently. Genya lightly punched him in the shoulder.
“Asshole,” he grumbles. Almost instantly, though, he lowers his hand and rubs at the impact point. “Sorry.”
“You’ve gravely injured me,” Muichirou deadpans.
Genya doesn’t feel sorry anymore.
He finishes up the braid quickly, just in time for Muichirou to open his mouth in a soft yawn. Genya inches forward, hooking his chin over Muichirou’s shoulder, and poking his nose.
“You can nap now,” he says.
Muichirou lightly smacks his lips, sleepy tears pricking at his eyes.
“We,” he corrects.
Genay snorts, slowly standing up from the floor and stretching his arms. “Smartass today, aren’t you?” Genya snarks back.
“Nevermind, I take back my previous statement.”
Genay stops, turned towards the cabinets where Muichirou always keeps a spare yukata in the rare case Genya sneaks by and they spend enough time together to warrant any sleep. However, most days, Muichirou’s out on hashira missions, and Genya’s either training with Gyomei, or going on his own missions (with or without Gyomei or Kagaya’s knowledge, mind you.) So, most of their time with one another is quiet, quick, often spent staring at the sky or the gardens, and sometimes with a snack involved.
Genya wishes he could spend more time with Muichirou, but… alas.
He briefly glances at Muichirou from across the room. He’s already shed his slayer uniform for something more befitting of a nap, and his large, fluffy braid sits low and long on his back. Genya can’t be too mad at Muichirou’s retorting remarks… he’s got his heart locked up, and his entire self wrapped around his finger.
Genya purses his lip, unbuttoning his uniform top. He wishes he wasn’t so smitten with his boy. He’s just… he’s…
“I’m napping now, don’t move the blankets too much,” Muichirou says, stifling another yawn and sinking onto his futon.
He’s lovely.
Genya changes quick, then sneaks under the blankets with Muichirou, staring at his face as the other boy sleeps peacefully. Genya sighs quietly. He hopes he and Muichirou can spend just a few more moments like this.
Maybe just once more.
Yeah, one time is fine for him.
Just once before they no longer have any spare time. He’s fine with that.