Archive of Our Own

The Morning Before

Me:

That’s the address above :). It starts at three, but you don’t have to be there right then. 

Gen♡:

ill prolly b a lil late but ill b ther asap

Me: 

Okay, awesome! Super excited to see you! :D

Gen♡: 

ya me 2 :))) c u ltr 

Gen♡: 

o nd hey happy bday tani <33

••

   Tanjiro sighed and placed his phone atop his chest, feeling its weight settle over his thrumming heart as he smiled up at the ceiling. Oh, Genya…he’d been extra sweet lately, so full of compliments and quiet promises that almost sounded like flirts—well, only if Tanjiro thought too long over his words. 

   Which, admittedly, he did. 

   See, Miss Kanroji had gotten into his head at the end of last semester, telling him all sorts of things about how Genya acted around him and what it meant. Since then, Tanjiro had taken to…studying Genya, so to say. He desperately wanted to believe what she had said—that Genya did have a crush on him, that Zenitsu was mistaken or simply misspoken—and so he began searching for those little signs she claimed to see. He expected to come up empty, dejected and a little heartbroken and intending to never dally in daydreams again—but instead, to his delighted surprise, he found quite the opposite. 

   He started to notice the way Genya’s sharp eyes tended to linger on him, the way he would smile when Tanjiro appeared and shift his entire stature to face him when he spoke. He noticed the sweet curl of his scent when they stood near, and the way he so often reciprocated Tanjiro’s desperate touches, and even initiated many of his own. Previously, Tanjiro had chalked all of this behavior up to a mix of both excitement and anxiety over their friendship: he and Genya had been such new friends to start, then gone through an awfully awkward separation, and had only barely rekindled their relationship a couple months prior. Surely Genya was just afraid of shaking the boat, like Tanjiro, and was trying to keep everything kind and cordial and perfectly appeasing. And yet…

   He never seemed to look at anyone else the way he did Tanjiro, not even Nezuko, who Tanjiro had been so convinced he had a crush on before Zenitsu intervened on that thought. He rarely touched anyone else, rarely stood near them or attended to them like he did Tanjiro, rarely doted sweet words upon them. There was, of course, Zenitsu’s old comment of ‘Genya likes someone else’, the one that had left Tanjiro a distraught mess, thinking through all of this that he had no chance anyway—but could it be that Miss Kanroji was right? That Zenitsu had meant Tanjiro? He remained the only other option as far as he could tell, unless he simply did not know the person Genya liked, which he didn’t really believe. Genya was not the most outgoing of people, so it seemed rather unlikely he harbored feelings for some other mysterious friend no one knew about. It had to be Tanjiro, right? He had to be the one—though he admittedly wasn’t too sure about being anyone’s object of affection, not outside of his family. 

   At least, not until last night. 

   There hadn’t been anything explicitly special about it, per say. Genya hadn’t stayed the night, so they instead chatted over a phone call, which was typical for the nights they spent apart. There was no particular uniqueness to the situation, at all. Except…

   Genya had been quieter, for one. Not in any sort of negative way, just…softer, speaking in that gentle tone that always made Tanjiro close his eyes and shiver, just to truly revel in it, as he did while listening that night. And then his words…his typical slew of compliments had doubled, same with those maybe-flirts Tanjiro kept trying to read into. Genya spoke endlessly of how lovely he was sure Tanjiro would look the next day, of how excited he was to see him and be near him again, of how big a milestone this must be for him and all the prospects of his life here on out. Tanjiro tried to keep up with his sentences, tried to repeat and return them to assure Genya of his own excitement and fondness and appreciation, but it eventually became too much, felt too good, until Tanjiro was left silent on his bed: heart pounding, mouth smiling, and mind racing to a decision, one that still made him an anxious wreck even with the new day. 

   He decided to tell Genya how he felt. 

   Terrifying, right? Tanjiro certainly thought so. He turned into a sweating, trembling mess just thinking about it. Still, he couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep these massive feelings to himself, hoping they would either dissolve or become easier to hide. He couldn’t keep pretending. He had to tell Genya, even if that meant rejection. It didn’t matter. That day, he would tell him. He just…hadn’t decided how quite yet. 

   A knock on his door urged him from those thoughts though, and he sat up, calling, “Come in!” to whoever needed him. It was his mom, he found out as she stepped inside, smiling so widely the corners of her eyes crinkled. 

   “Happy birthday, honey,” she said, and crossed the room to meet Tanjiro on his bed. He leaned forward to hug her as she bent down, her arms wrapping around him tight enough that he could breathe normally again. He sunk into the embrace, grateful. She rubbed his back fondly. “How is sixteen treating you so far?”

   Tanjiro sighed shakily and pulled away, flashing her an anxious grin when she gave him a worried look at the noise. 

   “All good,” he promised. “Great, actually. I…made a decision.”

   “Oh?” Mom’s eyebrows raised. “About what?”

   “About Genya,” Tanjiro answered, and a spark of light flickered in her eyes. “I’m going to tell him how I feel.”

   “Oh, honey!” Mom exclaimed, immediately pulling him into another hug, this one twice as tight. “That’s so exciting!”

   “And scary,” Tanjiro replied, and squeezed her back. “I’m actually really scared, to be honest. But I’m ready. I think.”

   “It is a scary thing,” his mom agreed. She broke the second hug to sit down beside him, that light in her eyes shining brighter now as she grabbed his hand. “You know, I remember when I finally told your father my feelings for him. I was absolutely petrified he’d say he didn’t feel the same, but then he kissed me, and all that fear melted away.”

   Tanjiro grinned, his heart fluttering like a bird. That sounded nice, sweet and romantic and utterly perfect. He wouldn’t mind his own confession ending like that. God, kissing Genya…the idea spurred in his pulse, shivering and enthralled and standing his nerves on end. 

   “Do you think I have a chance?” He asked meekly, though he didn’t even finish the sentence before Mom giggled and kissed his temple. 

   “I think you have more than a chance,” she promised. “How are you going to do it?” 

   Ah, the dreaded question. Tanjiro cleared his throat. “I, uh, haven’t figured that out, yet.” 

   That didn’t bother Mom. She stood from the bed and tugged on his hand, hauling him to his feet with little room to decline, what with how urgently she pulled. 

   “That’s not a problem,” she told him. “Your other friends are here already to help with the setup, and I’m sure they’d be more than happy to help you too. Not to mention, your sister has a devoted interest to this sort of plan.”

   “What do you mean by that?” Tanjiro asked, a little warily. Yes, Nezuko was a genius when it came to plans of action, no matter the type, but ‘this sort of plan’ sounded like a rather ominous—and unnecessary—addendum. 

   Mom, however, did not share his hesitation, and simply giggled again. “Come on,” she said, turning and guiding him out of his room. “Let’s go talk to them.”

   ~

   Standing in front of his friends and sister felt far more awkward than Tanjiro had expected. He shuffled in place, shifting his weight between his feet and twisting his fingers together as they all stared at him. Only his mom—positioned off to the side and giving him an encouraging pair of thumbs up—helped him take a deep enough breath to speak, though even that was weak and shaky.

   “Okay,” he started off slowly, nervously, gathering their attention and trying not to shrink beneath the weight of it. “I have something to tell you all, I guess.”

   “Oh, god, is it terminal?” Zenitsu gasped, a hand flitting to cover his horrified mouth. Nezuko swatted his arm. 

   “I’m not dying,” Tanjiro responded dryly. “This is actually something you already know, Zenitsu.”

   Zenitsu blinked. “It is?”

   “Uh huh. Mom, too.”

   “Is it about me?”

   “No, not you.” Tanjiro took a new breath, nice and deep to settle his lungs before finishing: “It’s about Genya, actually.”

   “Are you gonna fight?!” Inosuke demanded, nearly leaping from his seat, though Kanao’s firm grip kept him in place. 

   “Uh, no, it’s…well, first, I have something about him to confess—”

   “Oh, finally!” Zenitsu cried, loudly interrupting him and flopping dramatically backwards. “It only took you like fifty fucking years!”

   Tanjiro scoffed. “Hardly so many—”

   “So, you’re not fighting?” Inosuke said, brow raised. 

   “No, we’re not—”

   “Are you finally going to tell him how you feel?” Kanao asked. Her eyes lit up with a little grin and she leaned excitedly forward, but Tanjiro paused. 

   How did she…?

   “Um, Kanao?” Nezuko whispered. “He didn’t say he likes him yet.”

   “Oh!” Kanao slapped both her hands over her mouth, turning abashedly away. Tanjiro kept staring at her, his face steadily growing hot as his mom laughed into her own hand and Nezuko shyly grinned. 

   “Eh, let it be,” Zenitsu supplied unhelpfully, still draped over the couch like a throw blanket. “The cat’s outta the bag anyway.”

   Nezuko narrowed a look on him. “The cat is still very much in the bag, Zen—”

   “When will you fight?” Inosuke, again, intruded, now looking more intrigued than confused. Kanao, still covering her face and looking away, nudged his shoulder reprimandingly. 

   “I think the cat is at least a little outta the bag!” Zenitsu continued to argue. “I mean, we all know it anyway. This is just formality, right?”

   “All know what anyway?” Tanjiro edged in, incurring wide-eyed stares from Zenitsu and Nezuko alike, as if they’d forgotten he was there. 

   “Nothing!” Nezuko hurriedly fibbed, though Zenitsu—for once in his life—went against her words and rolled his eyes. 

   “We can give it up, Nez,” he promised, providing her just enough time to drop her head to her lap and groan pitifully before he finished with: “We all know you like Genya.”

   “But…” Tanjiro blinked. Surely he…His entire body flushed aflame, red hot and disbelieving, and he held his hands flat over his diaphragm, where he could feel the stuttering drum of his heart. He shook his head. Surely he didn’t mean it, right?! Zenitsu himself had said…didn’t he…this whole time?! “But you said I wasn’t obvious!” 

   “I thought you knew I was lying!” Zenitsu griped back, absolutely appalling Tanjiro. He had to be joking! “I mean, Kai came up and started saying all that bullshit—”

   “I thought he just heard us talking!”

   “Dude, seriously?!”

   “Yes!”

   “Miku save us all,” Zenitsu whined, then picked himself off the couch, sauntering over to Tanjiro and wrapping his hands around his biceps. “Tanjiro, I love you, you’re incredible, you’re fantastic, but you are the most painfully dense person I have ever met. And I know Inosuke.”

   “Dense enough to beat you in a fight!” Inosuke hollered. They both ignored him. 

   “It’s not like anyone else has said anything,” Tanjiro grumbled, but the apparently lackluster defense only earned an endeared sigh from Zenitsu. 

   “Well, we were hoping we wouldn’t have to,” he explained. “I mean, what do you think we were trying to do with Winter Formal?”

   “Zenitsu!” Nezuko snapped. 

   Tanjiro narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “what were you doing with Winter Formal?” 

   Zenitsu, finally, panicked. “Uh, nothing!” He hurriedly said, stepping away and releasing Tanjiro and darting back to the others. “Don’t worry about it!”

   “I am worried about it!”

   “Just don’t be!”

   “Zenitsu!”

   “It was a whole plan,” Kanao answered, raising her voice over Zenitsu’s and Tanjiro’s both to be heard. Tanjiro glanced towards her. She smiled awkwardly back. “Sorry,” she continued, “but we really didn’t think it would work if you knew the plan. We were hoping to get you two to confess there.”

   A small, humiliated part of Tanjiro wanted to shrivel up and hide at that admission; the rest of him…well, it made sense, and not just Mom’s ‘this sort of plan’ comment: Nezuko and Zenitsu’s pushy behavior on that night, all the pointed looks and suggestions they’d sent him, not to mention Nezuko’s unexplainable self-blame and Zenitsu’s distraught when it all fell apart…yeah. He was mostly surprised he hadn’t figured it out sooner. Maybe Zenitsu was right to call him dense. 

   Still, that didn’t quell the absolute mortification of not only being set up without realizing, but failing at it too. He sighed and rubbed rough hands over his face, forcing enough resolve back into his bones to look at his friends again and try for a smile, despite his body feeling like an overworked furnace. 

   “Well, if you’ve made a plan to help before,” he murmured sheepishly, “would you mind doing so again?”

   Nezuko was across the room in a blink, leaping from her seat and overtaking Zenitsu to grab Tanjiro’s hands and lean onto her toes. “Really?” She whispered, all wide smiles and bright eyes. “You’re really going to tell him?”

   Tanjiro nodded. She and everyone else cheered—which was sweet, if kind of completely embarrassing. 

   “Alright, guys! Let's frickin’ do this!” Nezuko whooped, probably loud enough for even Genya to hear from miles away. Tanjiro wondered what he would do, if he could. Would he take the opportunity to run away, to make sure Tanjiro could never tell him his feelings? Or would he hurry over, ready to share his own in turn? Tanjiro hoped for the latter. He hoped their plan would work. 

The Afternoon Of

   Tanjiro had never much cared for big parties. All growing up, he only ever wanted a small family get-together to celebrate his birthday, and that stayed true to this day. He liked being able to appreciate the people around him in a personal gathering and beautiful outdoor setting, where he could fully soak in their lives and how much they had impacted his in turn. At his original home in the eastern mountains, this desire was fulfilled by his gathered family and sprawling backyard, but ever since moving to the city, he’d instead taken to a tucked away, slice-of-nature plot of land called Hermione Park. That was precisely where he returned this year, carefully piling wood in the fire pit for that evening and glancing relentlessly over his shoulder for a car that had yet to arrive. 

   Everyone else was settling in, as he had asked of them, setting up camping chairs with plates of food from a wide table and swapping idle chatter. Tanjiro heard them already telling a couple stories about him—they often did that on his birthday, reminiscing on his life as he did their presence in it—but he had yet to join in, instead trying to busy himself with literally anything to pass the slowly ticking time. 

   Genya had explicitly told him that morning that he’d be late—which was fine! Tanjiro really didn’t mind, he understood…but that didn’t stop the creeping anxiety in his absence, the one that crawled through his veins and told him Genya wouldn’t come, that he’d rebuke the invitation and destroy Tanjiro’s chance to confess. And so, with that very stable thought process, he kept his gaze locked on the dirt path that led to their little clearing, watching it adamantly for any sign of his friend and refusing to sit idle until he appeared. 

   Nezuko wandered over to him at some point while he adjusted the firewood—again—probably sensing his agitation. She crouched down to his level and sent him a smile through his peripherals, so he turned to see her. Her arm dropped over his shoulders, thumb rubbing over his bicep for comfort. He leaned into it gratefully. 

   “Nervous?” Nezuko asked gently, and Tanjiro nodded. “Wanna talk about it?”

   “I don’t know,” he murmured in reply. “It’s just…I guess, the longer he’s not here…”

   “The more worried you feel,” Nezuko finished. Tanjiro sighed. “I get it. He will be here though. I know it.”

   Tanjiro peeked at her. “With your special Nezuko Intuition?”

   She winked. “One and the same.”

   Tanjiro chuckled a little at that, put at ease by her familiar presence and wit, but his laughter died off as his gaze once again wandered, dallying over to that still empty dirt path. 

   “Nezuko,” he whispered, “what if he says he doesn’t feel the same?”

   “He won’t.”

   “But if he does?”

   “Then I’ll kick him.” She shrugged. “Obviously.”

   Tanjiro shot her a look. “Please don’t resort to physical violence.”

   “Fine. Verbal violence only.”

   “Nezuko…”

   “Joking, joking!” Nezuko laughed and jostled against him. “I mean it though, Tanjiro,” she added, a little more sincere now. “He’ll be here, and he won’t reject you. You can call it my intuition if you wish, but I promise he likes you too. He’ll be here. It’ll all end well.”

   “Okay,” Tanjiro said. “Thank you.”

   “Always. I’m so excited for you,” she whispered, guiding him into a proper hug and clutching him tightly. “You guys are going to be so happy together.”

   “Thanks,” Tanjiro said again, and returned the embrace—though they ran out of time to talk any longer: announced first by its wake of dust, a familiar sedan appeared upon the road, and Tanjiro’s heart leapt into his throat. 

   He pulled away from the hug just slightly as the car slowed to a stop, giving Nezuko the chance to turn and see what had so fiercely caught his attention. Unlike his nervous hesitancy, she scrambled to her feet immediately upon noticing, hauling Tanjiro up alongside her and shoving him ungraciously forward. He glanced back at her. She flashed him a bright grin. 

   “Go get him,” she urged, giving him one more push before darting back to the remaining group. Tanjiro flexed his fingers watching her leave, then tried to swallow his thick, pounding pulse as he turned back to address the car, hoping to keep himself cool and calm. It didn’t work, but it didn’t matter. He hurried over. 

   Genya stepped out of the passenger seat at almost the exact moment that Tanjiro arrived. He donned a bright grin already, a lovely pink flush in his cheeks to match and yellow dye on the ends of his hair to make him shine that much more. He wore a dashing leather jacket, but slipped it off when Tanjiro approached, flinging it quickly onto his seat before reaching forwards and grabbing hold of his arms. A split second later, Tanjiro was wrapped within him, face pressed against his heavy heartbeat and soul soaring off into a blissful horizon. 

   “Hi,” Genya whispered, head bending to nestle in Tanjiro’s hair. 

   Tanjiro nuzzled closer into his ribs in return, tying his arms around his torso as tightly as he could manage. “Hi,” he mumbled back, voice almost completely muffled by Genya’s shirt. 

   A hand flattened against his spine, holding him impossibly nearer. Genya had been doing that more recently, anytime they cuddled or hugged, like he was trying to keep Tanjiro with him. Tanjiro thought that was lovely. He’d even started to crave the feeling, obsessed with the possessive weight of the touch. 

   “Happy birthday,” Genya told him, then tucked his head back to smile. That smile made the minute separation worth it, and Tanjiro returned it greedily. Genya’s stretched further. “Hope I’m not too late.”

   “Not at all!” Tanjiro promised. “Everyone just got their first plate of food, you’re just in time to join. Oh, and I have your present at the end of the table.”

   That put a stall in Genya’s fond expression. He raised one curious eyebrow, ducking further back as if to see Tanjiro better. “My present?” He echoed. “You do understand that people are supposed to give you presents, right? Not the other way around?”

   “Who says?” Tanjiro argued. 

   “Uh, literally everyone.”

   “Oh, well,” Tanjiro heaved a mocking sigh and looked aside, batting his eyes dramatically like he so often saw Zenitsu do. “I guess you don’t want the watermelon I got you then…”

   Genya went stiff with a sweet curl of his scent, like bubbling excitement. Tanjiro glanced at him sideways. Genya’s eyes glittered back. 

   “Watermelon?” He murmured, like the treat would disappear if he spoke its name any louder. 

   Tanjiro nodded, biting back a giggle and freeing Genya from his hold. “On the table’s end,” he affirmed. “I left it for you to cut up how you like. I haven’t quite figured out your style yet.”

   “I’ll teach you,” Genya promised firmly, nodding his head like a stamp. Beautiful. He glanced over Tanjiro, towards where the aforementioned present awaited, probably debating the nicest way to ask for it now. Tanjiro stepped aside and gestured him onwards before he could work himself up over the question too much. 

   “I’ll be right behind you,” he said, just to assuage any more hesitation. Genya still delayed for a moment longer, contemplating, but he relented with a gentle shove from Tanjiro.

   “Don’t wait too long,” he said, stern like a warning, then dashed over to the waiting fruit. Tanjiro smiled watching his excited speed, then giggled when he slowed to a normal pace to greet Nezuko and the others. Positively adorable. 

   “Hello, Tanjiro,” said another voice—Shizu Shinazugawa, stepping out of the driver’s seat and rounding the car to greet him. Tanjiro quickly turned and offered her a hug, trying to put aside the guilt of not noticing her earlier. “Happy birthday, dear.”

   “Thank you,” Tanjiro said, and bowed his head politely. He gestured towards the food and group again, and offered a smile. “Were you going to stay?” He asked. “We have plenty of food to share, and I’m sure my mom would love to spend time with you too.”

    Shizu smiled softly. It was the same smile Tanjiro so loved to see on Genya. “May I?” She asked, and he nodded. “Well, thank you, sweetheart.”

   “It’s my pleasure!” Tanjiro chirped. “Follow me!”

   Tanjiro’s mom indeed stood to greet and embrace Shizu when they made it to the group, offering her a seat beside her and immediately beginning to chat about work and life and such; Tanjiro, however, drifted to the table of food, taking Genya’s side and grinning up at him. Genya sent a matching look downwards, and paused his chopping just long enough to bend and speak. 

   “You chose a very nice watermelon,” he complimented smoothly, with that same almost-flirtatious tone he’d been giving Tanjiro the past couple weeks. Tanjiro couldn’t stop a giggle from bubbling up his throat at the sound of it, entirely too pleased to hear it again. 

   “Well, I had a very well-informed teacher,” he answered, as sagely as he could with a smile still stretched across his face. Genya laughed, nice and warm and perfect. 

   “You’ve learned well, young padawan,” he said, then went back to dicing up the melon. 

   The next couple hours passed with that easy banter and wonderful laughter. Everyone sat in a circle around the soon-to-be-lit fire pit, swapping stories of Tanjiro—both sweet and embarrassing—and eating their fill of food. Nezuko sat on Tanjiro’s left, but Genya took his right, subtly scooting his chair closer to Tanjiro’s before actually sitting. Tanjiro was quick to mimic. 

   That wasn’t even all. Genya kept leaning to the side as the time passed, arching over the chair’s arm to make small comments to Tanjiro about whatever anecdote had made itself known at that point. During a particularly mortifying story told by his mom, he’d bowed down enough to make some small witty comment directly into Tanjiro’s ear. Tanjiro was sure it was hilarious, and laughed appropriately, but his heart raced so quickly at Genya’s closeness that he failed to actually hear it, which was a shame. He quite loved to hear Genya’s voice, and he thought it rather rude of his heart to block out such a darling thing. 

   It ceased its maddening pulse, however, when Inosuke fetched a kindling for the fire, freezing in terrified eagerness as he recognized the designated signal. It was time. Genya stood almost immediately after Inosuke, whispering something to his mom before jogging over to their car, which gave Tanjiro a small moment to try and regather his senses and hash back through the plan. Ask if he would mind stepping away from the group, lead him to that grove a bit away, remember all the things Zenitsu told you…Nezuko grabbed his hand as he took a deep and trembling breath, squeezing his fingers to make him look at her. 

   “You ready?” She whispered. He shook his head no. She grinned. “Yes, you are,” she said anyway. “You’ve got this! It’s gonna be great. Just remember the plan, and you’ll—”

   She cut herself off, gaze flicking upwards, over Tanjiro’s head. He turned. Genya smiled shyly down at him, ears bright red and face steadily flushing to match, his hands held stiffly behind himself to hide some mysterious object. 

   “Hey,” he said, then nodded backwards, off away from the group, in the opposite direction of the plan, “could I steal you away for a minute?” 

   Tanjiro’s heart restarted then, thudding hard against his ribs as he slowly stood. He glanced at Nezuko for confirmation—this isn’t part of the plan, he tried to telepathically communicate, is this okay?—but Nezuko just encouraged him with a wide grin and two thumbs up, so he faced Genya and nodded. 

   “Yeah,” he said, voice far too weak for his own comfort, “lead the way.”

   The ambient chatter of their group faded quickly as they stepped away, side-by-side and meandering further into the park. Birds chirped and cicadas sung amongst the sunset scenery, giving Tanjiro just enough background noise to assure himself that Genya couldn’t hear his racing heart. Genya himself stayed silent as they walked, though Tanjiro noticed him continuously glancing downwards, towards him. He kept his hands behind him too, holding so tightly to that cloth covered object that his knuckles turned white to blend. 

   “Am I going to have to guess what you’re carrying again?” Tanjiro asked as they rounded a swath of trees, making their way, unmistakably, to the park’s pond and the little red bridge that crossed it. 

   Genya snorted and sent him an upturned look as he led the way onto that bridge. “How about just being patient,” he chided, then wandered to the bridge’s middle, coming to a stop at the peak. Tanjiro took his side, and inhaled deeply. 

   “The pond, huh?” He said, trying to keep his tone casual. It had been a while since he last found himself there, wandering over a couple months prior, on the anniversary of his dad’s death. He usually spent time alone here to cry out his feelings, but he didn’t feel like doing that now. He felt light, and airy, and dizzy, and hopeful, and maybe a little completely frightened. 

   “I saw it on our way in,” Genya answered, “I thought it looked pretty.”

   “It is,” Tanjiro whispered. He peeked up at Genya, who looked absolutely stunning with the departing sunlight cast across his face. The light caught on the black metal of his jewelry so it glittered like his eyes, snagging Tanjiro’s attention until Genya deemed it too much, and sent him a sideways glance. Tanjiro smiled awkwardly. Genya’s face turned redder. Then, he held out the mystery object for Tanjiro to take. 

   “Here,” he murmured. 

   Tanjiro accepted it with trembling hands and toyed with the knot that held the cloth cover closed. “You’re not going to make me guess?” He asked, teasingly, already recognizing the shape of the canvas within. 

   Genya snorted. “Not this time,” he said. “Happy birthday, Tani.”

   “Aww,” Tanjiro cooed, threading his fingers into the knot and trying to keep casual, “did you paint my sisters for me—?”

   The cover fell away, and Tanjiro stopped short. 

   It was indeed a painting, clearly done by Genya’s fantastic hand, but it wasn’t of either sister: it was of Tanjiro, poised en pointe with the white swan’s outfit, feathers and all. His expression had been painted serenely, and a soft light hung around his head like a halo, brightening the white of the outfit and the red of his hair. He looked ethereal, angelic, like a creature taken from the heavens and placed in paint, designed to be cherished. He looked beautiful. 

   “Genya…” he whispered, quickly wiping away the tears gathering in his eyes before they could fall atop the canvas. “This is beautiful—you made me look beautiful.”

   Genya gave him another sideways look, his brow creasing as he studied Tanjiro. Had he really always looked so intensely at him? How had it taken Tanjiro so long to notice? How had it taken him so long to think about what that might mean?

   “Yeah,” he murmured after a couple beats of staring, “I paint what I see.”

   Tanjiro didn’t know how to answer that. He thinks I’m beautiful, was the only coherent thought in his mind, slowly giving way to realization and firm determination. This had to be it, right? He had once longed for proof of Genya’s returned feelings for him—this was it, yes? This had to be a sign that Nezuko was right, that everyone was right. Genya thought he was beautiful, just like how Tanjiro thought of him in turn. Genya…liked him. 

   “Tanjiro,” he started again slowly, barely loud enough for Tanjiro to hear over the rush of blood and adrenaline in his ears as he turned and inhaled, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you—”

   “I like you!” Tanjiro blurted, and Genya froze. He managed to take a split second to realize that he had, in fact, very rudely interrupted Genya, but then the words kept spilling, tumbling messily from his big mouth:

   “I’ve had a crush on you for months now,” he rambled, “like, a really big one—big enough that everyone else knows, apparently—and I can’t—I can’t not tell you anymore.” He took a breath. Genya, wide-eyed, stayed silent. “I really like you, Genya, way more than just a friend. I think about you constantly and I love being around you and I think it would be super cool if we went on a date and maybe saw where that took us. I want to be with you, all of the time—I-I want you, Genya, everything about you. I just…I want you. I like you. I’d like to be with you, I…I like you.”

   His blabbering ended then, landing unsteadily in the air and casting a blanket of stiff silence over the two of them: Genya, staring, eyes blown wide and face tomato red; Tanjiro, breathless and shaking and surely just as flushed. And there, in that silence, the horror set in. 

   Had Tanjiro said too much? His grip tightened on the lovely painting, so he tried to relax it, but his heart was beating too fast, turning every muscle and bone in his body to shivering stone. Had he been too rude? He tried taking a breath, despite how dry and cracking his throat felt. Was Nezuko wrong? Was he wrong? Did Genya actually not like him back? Genya’s slightly gaping mouth began to close, twitching upwards in his cheeks like he was about to smile. Had Tanjiro just been too hasty? Was he not ready? Was he going to leave? Was this all a mistake? Would he still want to be friends? Did he hate Tanjiro now?!

   “Two seconds,” Genya whispered. 

   Tanjiro blinked. “What?” 

   Genya chuckled—just slightly, a small tone under his breath, but enough to make Tanjiro freeze his own lungs in desperate anticipation. He reached out and pried the painting from Tanjiro’s hands, propped it carefully against the bridge rail, then stepped forward in the now open space. 

   “You beat me to it,” Genya said: hands lifting, fingers brushing against Tanjiro’s cheeks and threading into his hair, tilting his head and tugging him near, “by two fucking seconds.”

   Then he leaned down, and Tanjiro gasped, and…and…

   Oh. 

   Is this what kissing felt like? Genya’s lips, warm and feather light against his, the slightest taste of watermelon spinning Tanjiro’s blood with sugar and sweetness. His hands were soft against his head, cradling him ever so gently, angling him back to compensate for their differing heights. Tanjiro’s skin buzzed like a thousand swooning bees but he pushed up onto his toes anyway, vaguely aware of the desire to help rectify that distance, to not make Genya crane downwards too much. Genya’s fingers pressed a little heavier in response, and he tucked back his chin with a shuddering breath and a sudden wash of cold air. 

   “I’m sorry,” he murmured, eyes still closed when Tanjiro fluttered his open, “I should’ve asked—is this okay—?”

   “Yes,” Tanjiro exhaled before finally lifting his own limp hands, grabbing Genya’s face, and kissing him again. 

   This time—oh, this time—Tanjiro could feel it all: the small puff of amused breath against his cheek as Genya turned both their heads, slotting himself even closer; the pressure of guiding hands in his hair, one of them slowly sliding down to trace his jaw and throat and shoulder and ribs and spine before settling against the small of his back; the slight shock of cool metal from the rings around his lower lip as they kissed again and again and again—over and over until Tanjiro forgot what breathing was, until he forgot that Genya’s hands were his own and not the extension of his soul, until he forgot that his arms tied behind his neck and fingers twisting in his yellow-dyed hair had not always resided there. He had fantasized of this moment for ages, for longer than he could even say, and still it was so much better than he ever imagined. Genya was gentle, and warm, and delicious, and his heartbeat mixed with Tanjiro’s as they each pulled closer and closer, melding into one another until the fact that Tanjiro forgot they were separate beings ceased to matter all together. 

   It was better than he ever dreamed it could be. 

   At some point, however, Tanjiro became painfully aware that breathing was, in fact, still essential to being alive, and he broke the embrace. Genya gasped quietly when he pulled away, drawing in his own lungful of blessed oxygen before opening his eyes. Even then, he did so slowly, forcing Tanjiro to wait and watch as his eyelids flickered and lifted dopily, purple irises overwhelmed by black pupils that immediately locked on Tanjiro’s face and announced the serenest of smiles on that beautiful, delicious mouth. 

   “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Genya said, exhaling as he spoke, so the words were heard in a wispy, slurry breath. Tanjiro giggled and wrapped a long strand of his hair around one finger, coiling it there so he couldn’t possibly step away—not that he appeared to want to, of course. His own hands stayed stubbornly in place, one of them pressing firmly against Tanjiro’s spine in that way he loved, the other mimicking in his hair, fast and unyielding. 

   “I bet I’ve wanted to for longer,” Tanjiro wagered, just playing, but Genya ceded with an airy laugh anyway. 

   “Yeah, maybe,” he said, then he was leaning down again, closing that far-too-big space between them with once-more closing eyes. 

   He only froze, as Tanjiro did, when the clapping started. 

   They both jolted to find the sound, erratic hearts skipping in tandem as they saw—oh, right. The plan. Tanjiro had completely forgotten about that—which was fair, considering it became null and void the moment Genya led him over here—but he remembered now, only as he saw Hanako and Shigeru and a confused looking Rokuta applauding wildly for them at the base of the bridge. Although, they hadn’t been a part of the original plan, so what—?

   “We followed Takeo here!” Hanako exclaimed when she noticed them noticing her. Shigeru nodded encouragingly along, and Rokuta nodded when he saw Shigeru doing so. 

   Takeo darted out from behind a bush at the mention of his name, but instead of taking accountability, he pointed back at it and shouted: “I only came over because Zenitsu told me to!”

   And there was Zenitsu, emerging in a frenzy and hounding down on Takeo. 

   “No, I didn’t!” He cried. “Liar! He’s lying!” 

   “No, I’m not!”

   “Will you two quit it?!” Nezuko hollered, appearing from the same bush, which seemed a bit excessive. Kanao stepped out quickly behind her—definitely excessive—waved apologetically towards Tanjiro and Genya, then snatched out a hand just in time to grab Inosuke’s collar—was everyone behind the same bush?—as he attempted to sprint full-pelt for the bickering Zenitsu and Takeo. 

   Genya, still holding onto Tanjiro, hissed through his teeth. “So, is anyone else gonna show up, or—?”

   “You all need to be careful,” warned Tanjiro’s mom as she stepped out from beyond a tree, which was marginally better than that forsaken bush, but still surprising and honestly unwarranted. “I don’t want anyone falling into any rough plants or bodies of water.” Then, trailing after her to complete the holy mess that was this moment, Shizu Shinazugawa appeared, and faced them. 

   “I’m so happy for you two,” she said, actually rather sweetly, though it seemed to be the final straw for Genya: he groaned pitifully, tugged Tanjiro close, and dropped his head onto his shoulder. 

   “Just kill me now,” he moaned into his shirt, face flushed enough that Tanjiro could feel the warmth against his neck. 

   Tanjiro did not kill him, but he did laugh and comb softly through his hair. “No can do,” he told him, and Genya groaned again. Tanjiro turned to Shizu, briefly glancing over her head to his boisterous family before offering her a small, definitely blushing grin. “Could you give us a hand, please?” He asked meekly, hopefully loud enough for her to hear, praying she understood. 

   She did. She winked at him, said, “Have fun, boys,” then turned around and clapped her hands once to snag everyone’s attention. 

   “Okay, let’s head on back now, you’ve all had your fun!” She shouted, far louder and more authoritarian than Tanjiro had ever heard from her, or even imagined hearing. “Everyone get together safely and get your butts moving!”

   “But I want to stay with Genya and Tanjiro!” Hanako whined. Shizu tutted and shook her head. 

   “You’ll have plenty of them later. Let’s let them have this moment and leave them alone for now,” she ordered, then clapped again. “Chop, chop, kids! Get a-movin’!”

   They all grumblingly complied, shuffling off back towards the chairs and abandoned fire pit, much to Tanjiro’s honest relief. Their conversations trailed after them—Zenitsu and Takeo arguing, Kanao and Nezuko teasing both of them, and Inosuke loudly complaining about the utter lack of fighting—but soon enough that too faded, until Tanjiro and his fussy Genya were left alone once more. 

   “Are they all gone now?” Genya mumbled when the last of the noises drifted into peaceful silence. Tanjiro giggled and petted his hair and nodded his unseen confirmation. 

   “They are, it’s safe to come out now,” he promised. 

   Slowly, Genya picked up his head. His face was indeed bright red and his eyes stayed locked downwards, but Tanjiro encouraged them to lift with an urge of his hand against Genya’s jaw. They stood out starkly against the blush of his skin, with thin irises and black pupils that stared so intensely he might have been seeing directly into Tanjiro’s soul. Tanjiro shivered underneath that gaze and grinned. Genya tried to match the expression, but a thick knot marred the center of his forehead, obviously flustered. 

   “That,” Genya exhaled weakly, “was the single most embarrassing moment of my literal entire life.”

   Tanjiro laughed. “Yeah, same,” he agreed, which got Genya chuckling again too. “Also sort of my fault, so, uh…sorry about that.”

   “Oh?” Genya arched a brow. The hand still resting on Tanjiro’s back pushed forward, imploring him to take an impossible step closer, which he did. “And how, exactly, was that your fault?”

   “I might have asked them for help with this,” Tanjiro admitted. “We had a whole different plan, actually. I was going to ask you to follow me somewhere private and then say some cool stuff—that was Zenitsu’s idea—then I’d tell you how I felt. It obviously didn’t happen that way, though.”

   “Uh, yes it did,” Genya said. 

   Tanjiro grimaced, befuddled. Genya just stared at him, that knot beginning to fade from his brow. “Uh, no?” He retorted. “I mean, you were the cool one with the cool lines. I just interrupted you, rather abruptly I might add. Honestly, that was incredibly rude of me, you don’t have to pretend that it wasn’t—”

   “Tani.” Genya’s hand flexed, fingers pressing into Tanjiro’s back as he bowed his head. He leaned his forehead against Tanjiro’s and exhaled slowly, eyes lifting just enough to return the stare Tanjiro fixed on him. 

   “That was the most perfect thing you could have done,” he said, barely above a whisper, and Tanjiro’s breath caught. “Seriously, I mean it. I’d convinced myself to tell you how I felt, but I was totally fucking terrified. I thought for sure you’d, like, try to let me down gently and say you didn’t feel the same, but instead…” He grinned anew, and bent forward to ghost a kiss over Tanjiro’s mouth. “Instead, you gave me all the proof I needed to not be scared anymore.”

   Tanjiro hummed, his body buzzing as it drifted off to cloud nine. Only Genya could say such a thing, finding beloved truth in Tanjiro’s clumsiness. Only Genya, his Genya. Tanjiro loved it, and needed it. He loved him, needed him. He smiled and twisted his fingers in those lovely dark locks, earning that charming, addicting, dopey blink of his deep eyes. Stunning, gorgeous, fantastic. 

   “Everyone else will probably leave us alone for now,” he said quietly, giggling as Genya went still, his eyes widening in time, “so, if you like, we have more time to—”

   Genya didn’t even let him finish the sentence. Instead, startling him into a giddy, shocked silence, he seized Tanjiro’s waist and hoisted him into the air, plopping him atop the bridge rail so they were properly eye-to-eye. He flashed Tanjiro a quick and crooked grin—a much different look from his previous red-faced mortification, one that got Tanjiro’s heart skipping like a rabbit’s—then stepped forward between his knees and kissed him again, one hand holding his hip tight and the other drifting to coil in his hair once more. 

   “I would very much like,” he agreed between a couple kisses, but Tanjiro was already pulling him back too quickly to really hear. 

   ~

   The clapping, most unfortunately, began again the moment Tanjiro and Genya returned to the group. It seemed to be more for the teasing effect at this point, and unfortunately worked remarkably in that regard, well enough to make them both blush and stop in their tracks. Genya didn’t let go of his hand, at least. He’d been holding it ever since they left the bridge, and now that grip only tightened. It was a welcome change, much better than all the previous times Genya had quickly abandoned the hold upon the presence of others. The circumstances could have been better, sure, but Tanjiro wasn’t eager to complain. 

   “You know, this is all a bit much,” he did say as the applause settled down into excitable grins and giggles. He moved then too, forcing his feet to walk and leading Genya back to their pair of chairs to sit beside the fire. 

   “Can you blame us?!” Zenitsu cried in reply. “We’ve been waiting, like, ten thousand years for you nerds to confess! This is like the second fucking coming!”

   “That’s blasphemy,” Genya snorted, which made Tanjiro grin, glad to see his humor return. 

   “You’re blasphemy!” Zenitsu snapped back. 

   Genya rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fuck you too,” he clipped, though his teeth flashed in an easy grin. “And I totally do blame you, by the way. What’s with you and hiding behind bushes? It’s really weird, dude.”

   “Hey!” Zenitsu spluttered, aghast. “I wasn’t the only one there in case you didn’t notice—and I was only there for a second anyway! Nezuko went first!”

   Nezuko rounded on him, so quickly her chair nearly lost its footing and skidded on the dirt. “I was going over to make sure everything had gone okay!” She defended. “That’s why I asked Kanao to come, so we wouldn’t have to get too close to see! No one told you to join!”

   “That is true,” Kanao said. “We only hid because Inosuke followed us, and we didn’t want to be noticed.”

   “I couldn’t let you fight them without me!” Inosuke shouted. 

   “Well, you all left me behind! Alone!” Zenitsu clipped. “I don’t know what you expected! It was only natural I followed you too! Jesus!”

   “You didn’t have to invite me, though,” Takeo said, and Zenitsu whipped him with a glare. 

   “That’s—because—I—didn’t!” He argued—clearly a fit they’d been having since the first accusation. 

   Takeo just grinned at him, though it was that conniving little grin he got when playing a prank. Tanjiro didn’t bother mentioning this to Zenitsu. He turned to his mom. 

   “Why did you come too?” He asked. “I thought you were going to wait here.”

   Mom shrugged. “Everyone disappeared when I went to grab something from the car,” she explained mildly, “so I went to go find them. We arrived about when Hanako and your little brothers did, and at that point you noticed us anyway.”

   “We followed Takeo!” Hanako, once again, said, sounding rather chuffed with herself. Shigeru and Rokuta were curled up together in a chair, both half asleep, and therefore unable to join her enthusiasm this time. 

   Genya glanced at Shizu. “And you, mama?” He prodded. 

   Shizu gave him a smile. “I was just accompanying Kie,” she said. Then, with a wink: “Besides, I had to make sure you followed through.”

   Genya’s face flushed bright all over again and he squeezed Tanjiro’s hand, glaring at his lap. “I still would have,” he grumbled. 

   “Well, forgive me for being curious,” Shizu tutted. “After listening to you pine over him for seven months—”

   “Mom.”

   “—I thought I deserved to see it for myself!” 

   “Oh?” Tanjiro egged in, leaning over and poking Genya’s shoulder with his free hand. “Pining? Over me? What were you following through on, exactly?”

   “You know already,” Genya mumbled, adorably. “You beat me to it.” 

   Tanjiro laughed, then lifted their conjoined hands and kissed the back of his. Genya smiled at him, his grin only that much more endearing under a face of red blush. Oh, how he loved that blush, always so intense, perfectly suited to him. 

   “Can’t say I’m sorry,” Tanjiro told him, hand still to his mouth to kiss again. 

   Genya snorted. “Same here.”

   “OH-KAY,” Zenitsu intoned, quite loudly, from the other side of the group. “This has already gotten disgusting! Someone just kill me, please! I regret ever playing a part in this!”

   “No, you don’t!” Nezuko admonished, her words laced with laughter. 

   “You don’t have a right to complain! I did all the work you’re talking about!” Takeo chimed in. “You can all thank me for making this happen!”

   “We will not!” Zenitsu practically screeched. 

   “Yeah, you gotta thank me too!” Inosuke added—definitely not what Zenitsu meant. “I helped a lot!”

   “You pulled Genya into the river!” Zenitsu scoffed. “That wasn’t helpful!”

   “And I dropped a spider on him!” 

   “Don’t remind me!”

   “Ditto,” Genya grumbled, though he still grinned too, hand encompassing Tanjiro’s and eyes alight with fire and humor alike. Tanjiro loved to see it. He loved to see him in general, picturesque in his simply being there, so he just stared for a while, trying to commit every line of him to devoted memory.

   “You really should draw yourself,” he told Genya while studying his profile. Genya gave him a crooked glance. “I mean it,” he encouraged, “you should paint yourself so I can have it. I’ll hang us up next to each other.”

   “What, is having me not enough?” Genya taunted. It was meant as a joke, Tanjiro knew, but the reality of it struck him all at once like a cupid-borne arrow—because, yeah. Genya was his. Like, actually his. No more hiding feelings, no more yearning after a relationship that seemed impossible yet inadmissible. They were there, together, honest and entwined. Everything Tanjiro wanted. 

   “You’re right,” Tanjiro said, then bent over their chairs to place a kiss on his cheek, ignoring the exaggerated sounds of gagging from Zenitsu. “You’re all I want.”

   Genya, also ignoring Zenitsu, did not reply; he just grabbed Tanjiro’s face and kissed him properly, which was far better than any words could be anyway. 

The Night After

   With the soft sound of crickets outside, the tucked away moonlight, and Genya’s arms tied so securely around him, Tanjiro could have fallen asleep in a blink—but he refused. He didn’t want to leave the dream that was reality quite yet. Though he knew he’d wake up with Genya still at his side, likely still wrapped over him, he didn’t want to say goodnight, not yet, not while he could still bask in the now. 

   Genya, for his part, didn’t seem to mind much either. He indulged every random comment and question from Tanjiro, all uttered in a ploy to stay awake, and all answered dutifully. At the current moment, Tanjiro had been rambling about everything that led up to their eventful day—Miss Kanroji’s encouragement, his mom’s support, even their friends’ admissions, which earned a fair amount of surprise from Genya. 

   “Wait, wait,” he interrupted when Tanjiro began talking about his original (scrapped) plan, “Formal was a set up?”

   “Yup.”

   Genya huffed, then paused, contemplated, and sighed. “That makes a lot of sense, actually,” he grumbled, slouching further into the bed. “God, I feel stupid.”

   “Well, stop it,” Tanjiro chastised. 

   Genya huffed again, but it sounded more humored this time, and he pulled Tanjiro a little closer. “You know, that was the night I finally figured out I had feelings for you,” he confessed. “My mom had to sit through this whole breakdown I had over it. If it hadn’t been for everything after…”

   Tanjiro swallowed and twisted to see Genya’s eyes. Genya, however, looked away. “Yeah, what did happen?” He asked. “You never told me.”

   “We don’t have to talk about that right now,” Genya mumbled in reply. Tanjiro bit his tongue, wanting very much to talk about it, but Genya just sighed and added: “I’ll tell you another time, promise. Just don’t wanna talk about it now.”

   “Okay,” Tanjiro whispered. 

   “Although, I—” Genya cut himself off. His bottom lip fit and rolled between his teeth, the rings around it fidgeting in time. He shifted lower and closer, so they were more on eye level, and his hand against Tanjiro’s back drew tighter, clingier. “On that, uh, note, actually, I…I need to ask something kinda awful of you.”

   “The ocean is the best place,” Tanjiro said. “That’s what Kanao says, apparently.”

   Genya blinked. “Sorry—what?” 

   “To hide a body,” Tanjiro answered. He knew full well it wasn’t what Genya wanted to say—obviously, he honestly had no idea what he wanted to say, and was mildly terrified to learn—but it was nice to hear Genya chuckle a little and see his brow relax as he understood the joke. 

   “I’ll keep that in mind next time I kill someone,” he said, then exhaled away the humor again. “No, though, it’s, uh…it’s about my brother. Sanemi. And us. Around him.”

   Ah. Tanjiro chewed the inside of his cheek, stifling his first—admittedly unkind—comment about the man. And then his second. When he had to bite back a third, he hummed for Genya to continue instead of asking, which he did. 

   “We need to pretend when he’s around,” he explained, now refusing to meet Tanjiro’s eye entirely, focusing instead on the pillow beneath his head. “He won’t be happy if he finds out we…well, point is, I need you to get away if he’s near. I don’t want him hurting you.”

   “Well, I don’t want him hurting you,” Tanjiro said, frowning. 

   “I’ll be fine,” Genya replied, which felt like a lie. “I was fine before. I’m pretty used to lying to him now.” 

   “‘Before’?” Tanjiro echoed. 

   Genya’s already solemn expression fell further. “After Formal,” he said softly. His grip began to falter, loosening on Tanjiro, so Tanjiro held tighter to him: winding an arm over his shoulders and bowing their foreheads together, refusing to let him leave. Luckily, Genya stopped trying to. “His friend took a picture of us dancing, I guess,” he continued, “and Sanemi…wasn’t happy about it. At all.”

   “Oh,” Tanjiro murmured. “Right.”

   He didn’t like thinking about that moment. It had haunted him for weeks afterwards. He had already shared many indelibly harsh words about the incident with Miss Kanroji too, which she had responded well to—probably because Tanjiro never spoke so cruelly. It must have shocked her. Either way, she promised to speak to Mr. Iguro in turn, relaying all of Tanjiro’s criticisms and almost-threats, but…even then, Tanjiro wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive him—or Sanemi—especially knowing the consequences Genya faced. 

   “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Tanjiro said. Genya, finally, flicked his eyes back up to see him. “I’m glad I didn’t actually kiss you back then, not if it would’ve hurt you more.”

   “Don’t know how I would’ve reacted about it either,” Genya admitted. “Not to say I wasn’t about to kiss you back, but, yeah. Sorry for shoving you, by the way.”

   “Eh, It was deserved.”

   “Oi.” Genya squeezed suddenly tight, dissipating the atom-sized space between them and stealing Tanjiro’s breath. His brow pushed against Tanjiro’s, his body shifted, then he curled above him, one hand landing on the mattress beside his head to stabilize himself before he dipped down and kissed him. He hummed when he pulled away again, and Tanjiro’s head spun on that note like a top, turning him electrically dizzy and tickling his veins into blissful oblivion. 

   “It was not deserved. Don’t say that about yourself,” Genya said, his voice a lovely buzz in Tanjiro’s twirling head. “I still feel awful about it, so you’re not allowed to get all upset too.”

   Tanjiro blinked up at him. His gaze was stern and strong, his mouth pulled into a thin line with a crease in his brow to match. He looked handsome, and commanding. Tanjiro smiled. 

   “What were we talking about?” He mumbled. Genya laughed, stoic expression splitting into a warm grin. 

   “Doesn’t matter right now,” he answered, “we can talk more about it later.”

   “M’kay.” 

   Tanjiro still had his arm over Genya’s shoulders, fingers still entwined loosely in his hair, so he started twisting it around, catching locks on his knuckles and holding tight before releasing them to keep playing. Genya’s eyelids began to flutter, gaze dropping to Tanjiro’s mouth with a swell of his pupils. Such a delightful reaction, Tanjiro thought giddily. How lovely it’d be to see again. He tugged lightly on Genya’s hair to guide his head downwards, which Genya indulged without a word; the gap closed between them, and Tanjiro caught him in a new kiss. 

   He wasn’t really sure how long they stayed there, and honestly, he did not care. He wanted the moment to last forever, he wanted to just be able to hold Genya and play with his hair and kiss him like this for all eternity. He really wanted to just keep kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped but always so gentle and constantly warm, starkly contrasted against those black hoops Tanjiro had taken so severely to. He liked kissing over them, feeling the smooth press of metal against his mouth and knowing it was him, that it was Genya. 

   Genya seemed just as inclined to continue too, possibly even more needily than Tanjiro felt himself becoming. He kept himself positioned above, hovering carefully over Tanjiro, though he’d lowered his supporting hand to his elbow, stretching out his fingers just enough to toy and tug on Tanjiro’s hair. His other hand, sandwiched underneath them, pressed upwards, gently bending his spine to pull him that much closer, to pin him there. Anytime Tanjiro shifted, even just the slightest bit, that pressure intensified and Genya would exhale a small puff of annoyed air. Tanjiro learned to stay still quickly, though it was rather fun to get Genya frustrated like that. He always flushed so warmly. 

   The only drawback to kissing, Tanjiro also quickly learned, was the fact that breathing became sort of difficult, so eventually the embrace would have to end, or at least pause for a moment. Genya was the one brave enough to sever it that time, retracting his head minutely and chuckling when Tanjiro whined. 

   “Greedy,” he quipped, breathless, and placed a small kiss on Tanjiro’s nose. 

   Tanjiro huffed, trying to pull his head back down, to unfortunately no avail. “So what?” He complained. “Come back.”

   Genya laughed again. “Take a breath,” he ordered, then went so far as to actually roll back onto his side. How cruel! Tanjiro gave him a severely admonishing look for that, but it only made Genya laugh more and pull him pitiably into his arms. 

   “Can we go on our date tomorrow?” Tanjiro asked, maybe a little petulant, burying his face in Genya’s chest so he could feel the heavy beat of his heart and breathe in the loving smell of him. “I don’t want to wait.”

   “But I was gonna do a whole thing!” Genya fussed. “I was gonna borrow my mom’s car, and buy you flowers, and come up to your door to ask your mom for your hand…”

   “You can still do that!” Tanjiro replied, ecstatic at the prospect. “You can borrow Clunker, I’m sure Mom wouldn’t mind. And I’ll stay in bed and wait for you and act all surprised when you get back.”

   Genya hummed, and Tanjiro figured the convincing had fallen short. He expected Genya to argue, to insist he wouldn’t possibly be allowed to borrow the car and that they really should wait—but in the end, he didn’t. He nuzzled his cheek against Tanjiro’s hair, then kissed the spot gently.

   “Okay,” he mumbled, “but I’m expecting you to actually act surprised.” 

   “I’ll be the best actor you’ve ever seen,” Tanjiro promised. 

   “Well, I don’t know about that,” Genya quipped, a grin audible in his voice. “I have seen Harrison Ford.”

   Tanjiro scoffed, scandalized, trying to tug away as punishment when Genya began to cackle; Genya, of course, did not let him wriggle free, holding fast with that secure grip of his and only laughing more while Tanjiro failed to escape.

   “You tease,” he complained, but immediately relented all further attempts and burrowed back against his ribs. Genya chuckled a little as he nestled, and soothed him with another kiss to the head, which somewhat made up for the quip. 

   “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he murmured, following up with several more placating kisses, until Tanjiro couldn’t stop himself from grinning against him. “It’s a plan, though. How does eight sound? Breakfast date?”

   “Perfect,” Tanjiro agreed. “Go to Starview?”

   “Yay or nay on pajamas?”

   “Eh, let’s go nay. I want to dress up for you.”

   “Aww, romantic,” Genya cooed. “I’ll do the same—or try to, I guess. I don’t have much here.”

   “You should wear that leather jacket again, you looked rather handsome in it,” Tanjiro suggested. 

   “Ha, deal.”

   “Awesome.”

   Tanjiro’s clock struck the new hour then, ringing quietly to rudely remind him of exactly how late it’d become. They ought to sleep now, he knew. Slumber had been tugging dramatically at his eyelids for ages already, slugging through his bones and easing him into the mattress like a sinking stone, and Genya probably felt the same—yet he fought it for a moment longer, ducking his head back to glance up and meet those gorgeous eyes.  

   “Gen?” He murmured. Genya shifted to see him. “I love you.”

   Genya’s eyes blinked a little wider, stunning blush sparking across his face as he smiled and bent down. A second later, he caught Tanjiro in a delicate kiss, soft and light and stolen away only a brief moment later to be replaced by that beautiful smile Tanjiro so loved to see. 

   “I love you too, Tani,” Genya whispered. “So much.”

   Tanjiro hummed, dragging himself up to thieve one more kiss before succumbing to his exhaustion and settling a final time, ensuring sure they were as close as molecularly possible before allowing himself to fully relax. 

   “Awesome,” he mumbled, relishing in Genya’s whispered chuckle before he fell peacefully asleep in the arms of his love.