Work Text:
Okay, recent acquisitions here… this series goes here… what else?
Shirafuji glances back at the to-do list he made for himself, laid neatly on the cashier desk and held in place by patterned washi tape.
…oh, the display window needs to be changed.
He looks over the section of the bookstore reserved for new additions, poring through for one with a pretty enough cover to put on the shopfront display. His workplace being an antiquarian bookstore, it was usually easy to find a unique book that would interest passersby, thanks to all the shimmery embossing and olden-timey fabric covers, not to mention the promise of rich contents within the pages.
Shirafuji is, admittedly, a bit of a homebody, and he’d rather curl up in his apartment and stick his nose in a good novel instead of frolic around outdoors with other people. Thus, he isn’t much of a people person either, what with his tendency to nerd out in conversation — but his job at the bookshop isn’t all too bad, because most of the people that come in are just as big of a nerd about literature as he is.
It’s quite relaxing to be in the old and musty bookstore, if he was to say so himself.
Hm… oh, this is the series Nakayama mentioned in the last installation of that magazine, he muses to himself, pulling out a hardcover manga anthology. How long has this series been in print for, anyway? Somehow it’s still going, and this particular version is all yellowed already…
Shirafuji examines the book cover in his hands. Printed onto the cover is a delicate illustration of a young girl holding a magical staff, each detail embossed in a shimmering silver. “Yeah, this could work,” he mumbles to himself, heading to the display window and observing the stock already on it — a similarly embossed hardcover encyclopedia, and an out-of-print edition of a seasonal dessert cookbook, nestled among decorative flowers and literature-related tidbits donated by their regular customers. Shirafuji moves to the back of the counter to take out a spare book rack, then gets to work on changing the display, setting the anthology in the middle and moving everything else to fit it in.
Since this is a magical girl anthology, he thinks as he observes the flowers, should I try for a more fantasy-like feel? Oh, in that case, I could get that other anime-themed cookbook from the cooking section… ah, someone bought that a few days ago— no, we have two editions of that— no, they bought both of them. Shirafuji steps away from the display table. giving the layout some thought. Actually, that children’s book in the back could go nicely there. Yeah, let’s go get it… and then change the flowers while I’m at it… and maybe—
A tap, tap, tap on the glass startles Shirafuji out of his mind, and he whips his head around to meet eyes with the intruder. It’s none other than Nakayama, that employee from the editors’ office down the road. He’s wearing that same old button-up shirt and tie, hair neat and tidy as usual, expression bored. He has a plastic bag of… something slung over his arm, probably his lunch.
He also happens to be Shirafuji’s boyfriend.
Nakayama wiggles his fingers to wave in a half-hearted greeting, then points at the anthology on the table with a raised eyebrow. Shirafuji rolls his eyes lightly, letting out a breath somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle, then gestures for Nakayama to meet him inside, himself heading back to the cashier desk.
The little bell above the entry door rings as it opens and closes, and Nakayama enters with a sly little laugh. “Ooh, did you miss lil’ old me that much, Fuji?” he teases, leaning on the cashier counter as Shirafuji moves to the other side of it.
“I had a feeling you’d come by today,” Shirafuji remarks tartly, shuffling around the antique wooden drawers to find some more suitable decorations. He finds what he’s looking for — a bundle of dried osmanthus — and shakes them for any dust, not once glancing at the ever cocky Nakayama. “Since you’re always teasing me, I thought I’d give you a little tease back.”
Nakayama chuckles, a noise too tired for his usual cool demeanour, and places his plastic bag on the counter. “Well, then. Since you’re being so cold, I won’t give you this neat little thing I thought you’d like… how cruel you are, Fuji, even to your own boyfriend…!”
Even though he knows he’s just playing around, Shirafuji can’t help but feel guilty for ignoring him, and he turns back to look at Nakayama, who shoots him a fake pout. “No, you can show me, dear. What is it?”
Nakayama holds the pout for a short moment longer, then replaces it with a smug little grin, fishing around the bag and pulling out a small wooden bowl. “Here. One of my seniors was playing around with woodwork on the weekend and gave this to me. You appreciate this sort of thing much more than I do, so it’s yours now.”
Shirafuji takes the bowl from Nakayama’s hands and delicately examines it. Even if it’s not a rare book or otherwise fragile object, Shirafuji has a habit of handling things with light fingers. “It’s… quite ornate.”
“No shit, that guy’s pretty good with his hands. Oh, don’t tell him I gave it to you.”
“Oh, of course not,” Shirafuji laughs, placing it on the shelf behind him before turning back to Nakayama. “There’s so many people where you work, anyway. I wouldn’t remember anyone.”
“Just another reason why I like to come here,” Nakayama muses, poking at the dried osmanthus now on the table. “Must be nice to have a place to yourself, eh, Fuji?”
“Ah, well…” Shirafuji leans on the counter in an attempt to get closer to Nakayama. “It’s nice, but not many people come in nowadays, so I sorta miss the conversation.”
Nakayama purses his lips. “Don’t come to my work, then. Geez, those guys are a pain in the ass,” he groans, running a hand through his hair in distress. “Seriously, some of them are so moody, and it’s all work, work, work in there… I mean, I don’t hate it, but it’s a drag sometimes.”
“Hm, I can tell.” Shirafuji gently lays his hand on Nakayama’s, touch delicate as if he were another piece of antiquity. “You look a bit tired.”
Nakayama lets out a heavy sigh, then gives Shirafuji an exhausted smile, expression softening up. “You know… it kinda fades whenever I’m with you, Fuji.”
“Oh…” This takes Shirafuji aback for a moment, and he shies away. “I… well, I’m glad for that, dear.”
Nakayama and Shirafuji have been dating for a year now, but for some reason Shirafuji still isn’t quite used to Nakayama’s sweetness towards him. Maybe it’s because Nakayama was usually stoic and curt with other people — to Shirafuji too, before they got closer through his repeated visits — or maybe because Shirafuji wasn’t much of a people person in the first place. Whatever the case, Nakayama has this way of making Shirafuji feel all fluttery and strange, in ways the world of literature and antiquity never could.
The two stay in a comfortable silence for a while before Nakayama lets go, slinging the plastic bag through his arm again and straightening up. “Anyways, I shouldn’t keep you for too long. When are we meeting up again?”
“Six-thirty at the restaurant district. Oh, thank goodness you didn’t forget…”
“Gosh, I wouldn’t forget you for the world, Fuji,” Nakayama laughs over his shoulder as he heads for the door. “See you then, bookworm.”
“Ta,” Shirafuji bids as Nakayama exits the store, the little bell chiming a goodbye. Then he glances back at the dried osmanthus, mind resuming work mode. “Alright, where was I? Change the flowers, and… get the children’s book from the back. Right…”
Shirafuji shuffles out from the cashier desk with the dried osmanthus in hand, heading for the back of the store where they kept the children’s literature. As he pores through the books for that one cover he saw the other day, he can’t help but let his mind wander…
…today’s our one-year anniversary together, he remembers with a smile. I’m glad he hasn’t forgotten our plans for tonight.
Shirafuji still remembers Nakayama’s confession vividly. The latter had been searching through the bookshelves for a while that day, sneaking glances at Shirafuji behind the counter and looking away once their eyes met. Nakayama came up to the counter to buy a novel — which he’d never done on his past visits, despite coming around to the bookshop so often — and left a little card on the table as he walked away with his purchase.
Meet me outside when you’re done with your shift, the little card read; I have something important to ask you about.
Shirafuji, naturally, was very confused by this at first. Nakayama usually unloaded all of his talk onto Shirafuji whenever he came around — he’d once said that Shirafuji was one of the few people he felt comfortable talking so freely to, what with his suffocating work environment — so it was weird of him to be so… secretive about it this time around.
But when Shirafuji took a peek out of the window to look for Nakayama, the office worker was standing outside, patiently — yet with a strange air of nervousness about him, fiddling with his tie and wearing an uncharacteristic flush.
It wasn’t something they could talk about in the bookstore, separated by the cashier counter. They had to get closer than that, in more ways than physical.
And the conversation they had once Shirafuji closed up for his lunch break — about Nakayama feeling something more than friendly for him, and Shirafuji being willing to try — and the way Nakayama’s smile and sigh of relief seemed to soften all of his edges for a moment, and the way Shirafuji felt his heart flutter in a way it had never done before… it was Shirafuji’s first step out of the comfort of his books, into a world he’d only ever experienced in print.
They’ve done a lot together since then — gone on multiple dates, traversed ups and downs, stolen little kisses from each other when the time was right — and Shirafuji wouldn’t have it any other way, or with anyone else. Nakayama, once all of his ice melts, is a very kind person to those he treasures, even if he enjoys teasing the hell out of them first.
So naturally, to pay all of it back, Shirafuji organised some special things for today. It’s not much out of the ordinary, just a dinner by candlelight and some dessert — including dessert of another kind — but from what Shirafuji understands, it’s good to give your lover all of yourself, and that includes your best efforts.
Shirafuji finally finds the book and takes it out of the shelf, then heads back to the front of the shop to put it in the display. Goodness, I’m getting a bit too excited for this… well, I suppose that’s natural. Nakayama’s my boyfriend of one year as of today, after all…
…ah, he’s my boyfriend!
If Shirafuji lets himself squeal into his palm and blush like a schoolgirl in love, nobody but himself and his beloved books would know.
“Oi, Fuji!”
Shirafuji looks up from his phone to spot Nakayama walking hurriedly towards him. He puts his phone in his pocket and waves as the other approaches. “Hello, dear,” he greets once Nakayama is within a suitable talking distance. “How was your day?”
“Oh, fine,” Nakayama replies, a little puffed out from the pace at which he was travelling. He combs his fingers through his hair, then coughs a little into the back of his hand. “I’m not too late, am I?”
“Not at all,” Shirafuji says, checking his watch beneath the sleeve of his sweater. “I think we’re a bit early, actually. Five minutes to spare.” Nakayama lets out a sigh of relief, moving to stand next to Shirafuji. A moment passes between them, Nakayama eyeing the other up and down for a bit. “Long day?”
“Mm. Hino had too much on his plate again, that bastard, so I had to stay and help him out for a little longer.” Nakayama coughs again, pursing his lips. “Sorry I’m still in my work clothes.”
“Hm? No, that’s fine.” Shirafuji flicks away the strand of his bangs that he had spent a good few minutes straightening out at home beforehand. “If you came straight from work, I understand.”
“I know, but like…” Nakayama pauses, then glances away. “You look so pretty.”
Shirafuji has to blink. Nakayama, always the flatterer… somehow, he never fails to surprise me with his little words. “…thank you, dear.”
Soon enough, a waitress comes out to greet the pair and guide them to their table, in a comfortable position near the wall of the restaurant. As they take their seats, she hands them the menu for both food and drinks, wishing them a good night as she walks away.
“You’re not big on vegetables, right, Fuji?”
“Oh, not at all. Even at this age, I can’t stand them.”
“I see… well, slight problem.” Nakayama points to the fine-print sentence at the top of the main courses. “Everything here comes with a salad.”
“Yikes…” Shirafuji grimaces, half-jokingly. Although he was nearing his thirties and really should have gotten over his childhood eating habits, he could never quite stomach any form of vegetable or leafy greens, no matter how much he tried. Shirafuji knows Nakayama pays attention to that sort of stuff more closely than he does, so part of him feels guilty for not being able to keep up with him.
“I mean,” Nakayama starts, “I can eat them for you—”
“N-no, it’s okay.” Shirafuji flips the menu over. “I usually just order from the entrees and get something from the extras section.” He glances up from the menu, and notices Nakayama smirking at him — not with any teasing intention, just amused. “But, I guess… if you want to share a plate, I can suck it up.”
“You’re really okay with that?”
“Mm. The mains here are pretty big, so it should be enough for both of us to share.”
“Even with the scary, scary salad?”
“…the salad isn’t scary, it’s just not my thing,” Shirafuji mumbles tartly.
Nakayama laughs. “Alrighty. You good with spaghetti?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Nakayama shoots him a little smile. “That’s that settled, then.” He flips to the entree side of the menu. “Are the mozzarella sticks any good?”
“They’re alright.” Shirafuji pores over the drinks menu, searching around for something nice to share between the two of them. I know he likes beer more, but he deserves to have something fancy for our anniversary. “How do you feel about champagne, Nakayama-kun?”
Nakayama looks up from the menu in alarm. “Wha— well, I mean—” He takes a glance at the drinks menu. “I’m not against it, but… why?”
“Oh, not much.” Shirafuji flutters his lashes and tucks some of his bangs behind his ear. “I just think you deserve a little treat for sticking it out this long, hm?”
Nakayama gives him a look of confusion in return, brows slightly furrowed. He glances at the drinks menu again, then looks back up at Shirafuji. “That’s a lot of money, though.”
“I don’t mind paying for it.”
“And a lot of alcohol.”
“We can get a little drunk tonight, don’t you think?” Shirafuji gives his boyfriend a little wink, only to get another politely confused look in return. Okay, the flirting isn’t working. Time to tone it down … “Ah, but we can get this other wine, too. It has a nice taste.”
“Mm, good compromise…” Nakayama jokes, a slight flush dusting his cheeks. “That should be enough, then. I’ll go to the counter…” Following his word, Nakayama stands up and heads for the cashier, leaving Shirafuji alone to scheme his next move.
Well… he looks a little confused, but he seems to have the right idea. Maybe I should just ask if he knows what day it is… or is that a little too forward? No, that’s too upfront. Shirafuji watches the candles on the table, the flames dancing around aimlessly. Well, he does look really tired. Must have been a really bad day, huh…?
…I mean, it’s a really special day today. Hopefully I can help him feel better.
Nakayama returns with a wave, sitting back in his chair as a waiter comes around to pour them their wine. As soon as the waiter walks away, Nakayama takes a sip of the wine, sighing heavily as he puts it back on the table. “Hooh, boy,” he chirps, “you’re actually right, Fuji. It is good to have a drink after a long day.”
“See? I know a couple of things about drinking.” Shirafuji takes a sip of his own, relishing in the slight fruitiness it leaves in his mouth. “…even though you have more experience in that field.”
“Was that a jab at me?”
“Pick your poison, love.”
Nakayama laughs as he fiddles with his sleeve. “So my bookworm does has a little bite in him. You’re cute, Fuji.”
“Hmm… I think you’re much cuter, Nakayama-kun.”
“Ooh, how so?”
“When you’re not being a tease, you’re pretty cute. Which is, like, virtually never.” Shirafuji takes another sip of wine, chuckling softly as Nakayama scoffs across from him.
The two make light chatter for a while longer, about their work and the food and their colleagues, one having much more to say on the last topic than the other. As their conversation reaches a lull, Shirafuji considers what to say next.
…it really feels like a normal date. But I suppose that’s how this is meant to feel like. You get so used to the romance that it starts feeling mundane… though not entirely taxing.
“The candles are cute,” Nakayama starts. “The roses, too.” He glances around at the other tables. “They’re only on our table, though… hm.”
“Oh, that’s…” Nakayama glances back at Shirafuji, and the latter goes on. “I asked for these. You know, the whole romantic feeling.”
Nakayama chuckles. “Aw, you little charmer, you…”
Phew, he hasn’t caught on yet.
…
…he hasn’t…
…what?
“Nakayama-kun…” Shirafuji starts lightly, resting his cheek on his hand. “Do you remember when you asked to be my boyfriend?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, that.” Nakayama laughs, a little sheepishly. His eyes flit around the room, fingers fiddling with the napkin. “That was kind of embarrassing. What about it, hun?”
…
Ah…
“Oh, nothing.” Shirafuji gives him a small smile. “Just… reminiscing.” He takes a sip of his wine and glances away.
…he forgot, didn’t he?
From the corner of his eye, Shirafuji sees Nakayama look at him, likely extremely confused by now but still smiling. “Okay, then…” Nakayama takes a sip too, swirling the red in the cup around before putting it back on the table. “Yeah, I was pretty smooth that time, wasn’t I? Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”
Shirafuji giggles, feigning lightness to mask the steady sinking in his heart. “Oh, definitely…”
…of course he forgot. He always forgets things at inconvenient times, so it’s a given that he’d forget today. He doesn’t mean any harm, I know.
So why… why does it feel like my heart’s been torn in two?
Shirafuji… doesn’t feel these things very often. He hasn’t really felt them for a while, rather — he was certainly a lot more emotional in his youth than now. But something about Nakayama rekindles all of this — the joy, the pain, and everything else love brings with it. Shirafuji takes another sip of wine, letting the tart flavour linger on his tongue.
Of course it hurts — because I love Nakayama-kun.
He looks back at Nakayama, who shoots him that charming little smile of his. Shirafuji smiles back, hoping he hadn’t made any sour expressions to worry him.
But… is he taking this as seriously as I am? Or maybe I’m just overthinking…
Nakayama has done a lot of things with Shirafuji during this first year, but he always gives back as much as he’s taken. Love is little things, Shirafuji understands — taking time to visit the bookstore, eating lunch together when their schedules line up, intimate moments shared together in either of their apartments — and in all of those little pockets of time, Nakayama has been nothing but kind to him, holding him close and giving him comfort through the bland everyday.
Shirafuji looks back up at Nakayama, who takes a sip of wine again, eyes on the plate of food that had just been placed in the middle of the table.
There’s no way he could keep that sweet act for one whole year and not be serious, Shirafuji reassures himself as he picks up the fork to dig in.
…I can’t help but wonder, though.
“Oh, shit,” Nakayama mutters as the two step out of the restaurant. In stark contrast to the clear and sunny daytime, rain beats down onto the pavement, heavy and unrelenting. “And to think it was so nice in the afternoon, too. Don’t worry, Fuji, I brought an umbrella.”
Nakayama shuffles his work bag around and pulls out a small portable umbrella, opening it and offering it to Shirafuji, who gets under it with him. Then they start walking down the paved pathway, the familiar route to their shared apartment block.
As they plod through the deluge together, all Shirafuji can think about is the possibility that Nakayama forgot. No, not a possibility. He definitely forgot that today was their first anniversary as a proper couple. There’s no doubt about it, not with all those confused expressions he made inside the restaurant earlier. There’s no way…
…
…it hurts. God, it hurts so much. It hurts that he put so much of himself into this thing they have, only for Nakayama not to acknowledge its progression. After a whole year of this, too…
…I mean, it’s only our first anniversary. And I can’t blame him for being so tired. But still…
“Fuji, did I forget something?”
“…eh?”
Shirafuji looks up, not realising that he’d even been looking down at all, and meets Nakayama’s eyes. Nakayama’s face is twisted into something akin to guilt, brows a bit furrowed, lips pursed. “I just…” Nakayama glances away for a moment, then back again. “I keep looking at you tonight and I… I feel like I forgot something again.”
A moment hangs in the air. Yes, you dummy, thank god you realised — you did forget something! And it was actually really, really important, and—
“…sorry if I did.”
Shirafuji bites his lip.
They keep walking through the rain, awkwardly, as it beats down upon them. No words are exchanged between them for the long while, just the occasional guilty glance from either one of them to the other. Soon enough, they finally reach the apartment building, and Nakayama closes the umbrella as the two walk into the foyer and up the stairs to Shirafuji’s floor.
But once they reach Shirafuji’s door, even in spite of everything that happened tonight, he doesn’t want Nakayama to leave yet. No, Shirafuji can’t leave it here, not after he’s waited so long for this day, this moment…!
“Um… okay, Fuji, I think this is where we—”
“You did.”
It falls from Shirafuji’s mouth heavy as a boulder, and they both stop. Nakayama’s face drops, subtly but recognisably so.
“…it’s our first anniversary as a couple. Today.” Shirafuji’s voice trembles, much more than he would have liked it to, but he goes on. “I… I really didn’t think you’d forget, and… it’s really not that big of a deal and I really shouldn’t be upset but—”
He’s cut off by something colliding with him — a soft, weirdly gentle collision, which he soon recognises as Nakayama hugging him. Faintly, Shirafuji smells the remains of worn-off cologne along Nakayama’s collar, the kind that Shirafuji had told him he’d liked — even amidst the stress of work, even if he forgot that anything special was happening at all, Nakayama had really tried to present himself well.
Of course he cares enough to try for you — it’s because he’s serious about you, Shirafuji.
“God, Fuji,” Nakayama says, his usual stoic voice wavering. “I’m so sorry.”
…of course he loves you for real, silly.
“N-no, it’s okay—” Shirafuji catches himself as his throat begins to tighten, but before he knows it he’s tearing up and the beginnings of sniffles attack his nose and oh, god, he’s crying over something so small—
“Fuji— Rui, hold on— here, let’s go inside, okay?” Nakayama moves away to let Shirafuji take out his keys and open the door to his apartment. After taking their shoes off, the pair sit together on the couch, Nakayama tenderly holding Shirafuji’s hands with his own. “Here, it’s okay…” He brings Shirafuji in for a small hug, slightly awkward but well intentioned. “I’m sorry for forgetting.”
“It’s fine—”
“If you’re so upset about it, it’s not fine,” Nakayama retorts lightly, patting the other’s back as he holds him just a little bit closer.
Shirafuji, coughing on his tears, can’t bring himself to say anything more. Seriously, it’s okay! But after a little while, he gains a pint of his usual composure back and shuffles out of the hug, moving to simply hold Nakayama’s hands in his lap. “How did you forget?”
Nakayama sighs. “I really think it was work. I just got really overloaded this week, that’s why. I swear I didn’t mean to forget, you know, something so damn important for us.”
Shirafuji shakes his head, attempting at a small smile. “I really think you should find a different job.”
“I’ll try,” Nakayama chuckles dryly. Then, after a short moment, he squeezes Shirafuji’s hands. “I’m sorry, Rui, I really am.”
“Oh, I know,” Shirafuji tries to laugh between sniffles, but ends up sounding choked. “You never use my first name unless you’re really serious.”
Nakayama huffs, perhaps his attempt at a soft laugh, then turns Shirafuji’s head to face him, touching their foreheads together as he brushes some tears away. “I don’t want you to cry on such a special day, though.”
Shirafuji manages a smile, then cuddles into Nakayama’s arms, drawing a hint of surprise from the other. “It’s okay. This is just the first of many, after all.” He leans into Nakayama’s shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “And every day is special when I’m with you.”
Nakayama tenses a little, not in doubt, rather in embarrassment. He props Shirafuji up from his shoulder and wraps him in a loose hug. “You’re so sappy. I bet it’s all the trees they cut down for those books you read,” he mumbles, and Shirafuji can’t help but laugh a little louder. The two rest like this for a little while longer before Nakayama goes on. “Thanks for all of this, Rui,” he says lightly as he pecks Shirafuji on the salty cheek.
Shirafuji giggles softly at the gesture, then returns it to the corner of Nakayama’s lip. “Anytime, love. Oh, I still have some things for us to do, though…” Shirafuji stands up, toddling over to the fridge to check on the sweet treats he had left inside. “Here, I made some dessert,” he tells the other, taking out the two small chocolate mousse cups he’d prepared and two teaspoons from the cutlery drawer, then handing one set to Nakayama. “It’s not much, but I know you like chocolate.”
“Geez, you really outdo yourself,” Nakayama muses lightly, digging into the mousse and scooping some into his mouth. “Mm… this is really good, Rui.”
“Good to know, dear,” Shirafuji replies as he eats his own. He leans sideways into Nakayama, taking in all of his warmth.
…it’s strange how someone like Nakayama, so cold in mannerisms during the day, can melt into something so warm and gentle as he is right now.
And as he scoops up another spoonful of mousse and pokes it against Shirafuji’s lips, the humble bookstore clerk can’t help but fall in love with him all over again.
“Fuji, open up.”
“Hey, I still have some of my own.”
“I know. But maybe they taste a little different.”
Shirafuji mock-pouts at Nakayama, only to have the gesture returned. “Oh, fine. Ahh…” Shirafuji closes his mouth around Nakayama’s spoon, consuming the little scoop of airy mousse it held. “If you want more kisses, you can just ask,” he muses after swallowing.
“Aw, man. But what if I want to be a little cheesy with you?”
Shirafuji laughs, returning to his own cup of mousse and steadily working away at the rest of it. “And who was calling me a sap earlier?”
“Oh, shush.” Nakayama laughs, that cute, genuine laugh that Shirafuji had only ever heard in private, and finishes the rest of his dessert. The two continue to nip away at their cups, placing them on the coffee table once they’re completely empty. Nakayama leans in, hooking his arm around Shirafuji’s waist. “Can I kiss you properly now?”
Shirafuji lets out a fond sigh. “Come here, honey.”
And in Nakayama goes, practically diving to take Shirafuji’s lips in his. Nakayama, though new to relationships, is a pretty competent kisser — not that Shirafuji had any reference either, but somehow it always feels good whenever their lips connect like this. Shirafuji can still taste the remnants of chocolate on the other’s tongue as it swipes along his lips. Shirafuji steels himself for a moment, then wraps his arms around Nakayama’s neck, pulling him closer as they melt into each other.
Before he even realises he’s falling, Shirafuji’s back hits the seat of the couch, Nakayama’s weight resting on top of him as they continue to taste each other. It’s amazing, the rush that flows through Shirafuji whenever Nakayama gets him like this, heart pumping, head dizzy with nothing but love.
Nakayama pulls away, laying his forehead atop Shirafuji’s own. “Do you wanna keep going?”
Shirafuji pecks the corner of Nakayama’s lip. “Yes, please.”
Nakayama smiles back, then presses a short, innocent kiss to Shirafuji’s cheek. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, shall we?”
“My room’s open, if you want— wah!”
Nakayama picks Shirafuji up, bridal-style, with a small groan of effort. “You’re… big.”
Shirafuji can’t help the little laugh that bubbles from his mouth. “Is that a bad thing, dear?”
“No, no, not at all. I like you like that.” Nakayama wobbles into the small corridor, then into Shirafuji’s bedroom, gently placing its owner onto the neatly made bed and climbing on top of him. “I like you,” he murmurs again, all soft and warm.
Shirafuji threads his arms around Nakayama’s shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I like you too, Kasa,” he mumbles back as they pull away.
This isn’t their first time having sex — that was two months ago, and Shirafuji graphically remembers waking up half naked in Nakayama’s bed with a light hangover, hickeys all over his body and at least two empty condom wrappers on the floor — but they don’t tend to do it too often, and Shirafuji still finds himself getting flustered at the prospect of it.
I suppose that’s natural, he reassures himself. I’m sharing something important with Nakayama, which I don’t do very often with anyone — sometimes not even myself…
But of course, as Nakayama trails his hands up his sweater and presses slow kisses to his neck, Shirafuji can’t help that inner desire, greedily wanting more and more of that fluttery, flushing sensation coursing through his body.
“…Rui, is this lingerie?”
“Hm? Oh, I forgot I was wearing that. Yeah, it is.”
Nakayama, hand in Shirafuji’s sweater, threads his finger around the back clasp of the bralette, eyes wide. “Fucking hell.”
Shirafuji giggles, reaching up to brush his thumb along Nakayama’s reddening cheek. “I mean, it is a special day for us. I thought you might like it.” After taking a moment just to gaze into Nakayama’s eyes, Shirafuji moves his hand, steadily lifting the hem of his sweater to reveal the skin underneath. “You can have a proper look, if you want.”
Nakayama straightens up a little and moves a hand to cover his mouth, face flushing madly, eyes averting momentarily. After a while, perhaps to get his bearings, he looks back at Shirafuji with an uncharacteristically bashful expression. “A-are you sure?”
“Well, I wore it for you.” Just to tease him, Shirafuji pulls down the waist of his pants as well, letting Nakayama see the top of the matching briefs he’d put on. “Consider this some extra dessert for tonight, love.”
Shirafuji bats his lashes jokingly, and he can practically see the wirings of Nakayama’s brain melt into a sputtering mess before him. The blond looks away one more time, running a hand through his hair, then turns back, all flustered — Cute, Shirafuji thinks. “O-okay… if you’re really sure, darling.”
And with tentative, gentle hands, Nakayama slides off the cashmere sweater, and it falls away to show the soft skin beneath. Shirafuji’s bralette is dyed a rich, vibrant cabernet, with quite modest coverage; only the scars from his top surgery were left exposed, along with the rest of his torso. Even though Shirafuji had put these on to impress Nakayama, he’s still not entirely prepared for the intensity of his reaction — the blond turns away, again, letting out a muffled squeak into his palm, and Shirafuji can’t do anything but laugh once more. “I take it that you’re enjoying this?”
“God…” Nakayama starts, but falters and covers his burning face with both of his hands. “Rui, you’re beautiful.”
…Nakayama really is a charmer, always finding just the right thing to say (even when flustered out of his mind). Shirafuji shifts his legs and presses his thighs together in an attempt to look just a bit sexier, though he’s sure it’s having an effect on the other. “You think so, Kasa?”
“I don’t think, I know.” Nakayama returns to rest on top of Shirafuji, pecking gently at his jaw. “Am I allowed to take it off?”
“Hm…” Shirafuji lifts his hands to Nakayama’s tie, slowly loosening it from his collar. “Take that silly shirt off first, love,” he murmurs breathily as the silk falls away from the other’s neck. Nakayama, already beginning to sweat from the rising tension in the room, obliges without a further word, sitting up on his knees to unbutton and discard that damned polyester, all of his usual work persona tossed away with it.
Nakayama falls back to kiss Shirafuji once more, this time with passionate intent, practically breathing in every sigh and sweet noise that Shirafuji makes. His thumb sneaks underneath the lacy bralette, tracing little shapes along Shirafuji’s breast, all tingly and gentle and oh so good. “You’re gorgeous, Rui,” he whispers between kisses, voice hoarse and husky. “I love you so much.”
Shirafuji threads his fingers through Nakayama’s hair, gripping it as he deepens their kiss. “I love you too, Tsukasa,” he murmurs as they part.
Nakayama lingers on Shirafuji’s lips for a moment longer, then moves down his body bit by bit, planting a line of tender kisses along the plush skin. Every little thing he does serves to make Shirafuji flutter all around, soft breaths increasing with each passing second. “Oh, you pretty little thing…” Nakayama purrs, his hand undoing the clasp of the bralette with swift, skilled fingers. “You feel so good, baby.”
Shirafuji makes a weak attempt at a humoured snort, the noise instead coming out as a sigh thanks to the cloud of lust filling his lungs. “Since when have you called me ‘baby’?”
“Since now.” Nakayama lifts the bralette to pepper his lips along those pretty scars. “Anything else you’d prefer?”
“Mm…” Shirafuji cups Nakayama’s cheeks with his hands, tilting it up so their eyes meet. “You can call me yours.”
God, it is simply adorable how Nakayama clearly melts in his hold, made tender and soft by nothing more than simple loving. Nakayama smiles up at him, in that affectionate way that makes his eyes crinkle at the sides, and goes back to caressing Shirafuji’s body with his lips. “Well then… you’re all mine.” Nakayama’s voice fades into a soft rumbling against Shirafuji’s skin, travelling back up and resting on his neck. “Mine, mine, mine…”
All of this, every single part, just makes Shirafuji’s heart flip and flit around in his chest, like the turning of pages in a book — it’s as if Nakayama’s opened his heart up, reading each and every word, every small movement, and studying them closely for things that nobody else knows, is allowed to know. Every little kiss, every little sweet nothing whispered upon his skin, akin to the susurration of a turning page, each one a step to more emotion, more feeling, more—
Nakayama nips at Shirafuji’s neck, making the latter whimper as he sucks a mark onto the unblemished skin. “Are you ready, Rui?” Shirafuji nods in reply, almost humiliatingly quickly, and Nakayama chuckles as he slides a warm hand into the other’s pants. “Okay, here we go. Tell me if you need a moment, ‘kay?”
Shirafuji nods again, using his own hand to help Nakayama take his slacks off, then those pretty lace panties, then sliding the bralette’s straps off his arms. Nakayama’s touch remains gentle all the while, soft and steady hands stroking Shirafuji’s bare skin as if it were made of precious stones. Shirafuji can’t help the small, fond huff that leaves his nose, seeing someone usually so serious and rough be so tender with him.
Soon Nakayama’s belt and pants fall to the side as well, the pair now laid bare for the other to admire them. Nakayama slots his body between Shirafuji’s legs and kisses him once again, more breathing than tasting this time. After making out for a little while longer, Nakayama pulls away, brushing some of Shirafuji’s bangs away from his sweating face. “Do you have a condom here?”
“Ah, just a moment…” Shirafuji manouvres himself to open his bedside drawer, pulling out a condom and opening it carefully, then handing it to Nakayama. “Here, love.”
As soon as the condom is rolled on, Nakayama presses his tip to Shirafuji’s soaked, quivering entrance. The blond meets the other’s gaze, his stare a silent request, and Shirafuji nods in permission. And then, as gently and carefully as they’d begun, Nakayama presses himself into Shirafuji’s heat, soft groans and whimpers filling the air between them as their love and lust combine.
“Ngh— K-Kasa, fuck…” Shirafuji covers his moan with the back of his hand as Nakayama finally reaches all the way into him. Despite having done this with him before, Shirafuji doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the stretch of Nakayama’s girth inside his deepest parts, so warm and thick that it practically filled his mind as well as his hole.
Nakayama seems to be enjoying this too, judging by that incredibly blissed out expression adorning his features. “Haah… hehe, Fuji’s so cute when he’s horny,” he mumbles dazedly, perhaps to himself but just loud enough for Shirafuji to hear.
“Well, hm… you’re pretty horny, too.” Shirafuji hooks his legs around Nakayama’s waist. “Now, come here and make some love to me.”
And without further ado, Nakayama begins thrusting, slow and soft, in and out of Shirafuji’s heat. Shirafuji whines at the sensation, the push and pull of their shared desire, waves of pleasure crashing around inside him. The physical experience of love, at least in this moment, feels twelve thousand times better than its description in print — Shirafuji has realised this several times before, but right now it is reinforced once more, and even just fathoming the phenomenon makes his whole body tremble.
Nakayama pumps his dick in and out of Shirafuji, murmuring little praises into his neck along with tiny, butterfly-sized kisses. “God, mm— you should see yourself, Fuji,” the blond breathes as Shirafuji’s fingers rake down his back. “It feels so good inside you, you know? You take me— fuck— so well…”
“Nn— hah, you’re so big— ah—!” Shirafuji trails into a chorus of incoherent moans as Nakayama props his leg up onto his shoulder, his already girthy length now hitting just a bit deeper. God, that feels good— Shirafuji can practically feel it slam against his walls, rattling his frantic heart and sending ripples of mind-numbing pleasure through his body.
“But we fit together perfectly,” Nakayama responds hoarsely, picking his pace up just a tad, still gentle in his movements. He presses his mouth to Shirafuji’s cheek, not quite kissing it, but a gesture of affection nonetheless. “Fuji— ah— I love you, Rui…!”
Under that intense gaze, there’s not much Shirafuji can do but moan and tremble at his words. What a funny thing words are — they themselves are nothing physical, but they tell of all the things in the world. Love, hatred, desire, loathing… they describe every part of the human condition, yet they are nothing more than noise, no more than a squiggle of ink on a page, or lights on a screen. And even then, they hold as much emotion as actions do, can make a person feel in mind, body, soul. Somehow, nothing but simple words have reduced Shirafuji to a quivering, whimpering mess, pleasured out of his mind by the wonder that was Nakayama, the humble office worker that loves him so much.
…although, of course, that length of his has a role to play as well. It fills him, leaves him a little emptier, then fills him back up again, and the sensation is addicting. One day, Shirafuji hopes he could get used to this beautiful heat bubbling through his bones, this wonderful tingling love that only Nakayama could give to him in this moment.
Nakayama’s thumb reaches down to rub Shirafuji’s bud, and Shirafuji slaps a hand over his mouth to cover the filthy scream that rips out of his throat, his whole body jolting at the rush that follows, eyes squeezing shut. He feels Nakayama smile against his skin, then very little else as that thumb keeps pulsing against that sensitive nub, his sweet release coming, god, fuck, he’s cumming—
Shirafuji’s whole system explodes, and he moans high and needy into the palm of his hand, walls tightening around Nakayama’s cock as it pounds him through his orgasm. Nakayama grunts into his neck, thrusting a little bit rougher, then slams into Shirafuji one last time with a lewd, low groan, filling the condom with his warm seed.
The pair stay here for a little while, catching their breath in each other’s hold, then Nakayama pulls himself out of Shirafuji’s puffy lips. He cups Shirafuji’s cheek with a hand, and as Shirafuji’s eyes open, he brings him in for a tired, but tender, kiss.
“I love you, Rui.”
“…love you too.” Shirafuji closes his eyes again, a bit too tired to leave them open, and he hears Nakayama chuckle and shuffle around to take off the condom.
“You got a bin in here, love?” Shirafuji senses Nakayama sitting up on the side of the bed.
“Under the table…” Shirafuji lifts his hand limply, gesturing vaguely to the work desk on the other side of the room. “Over there. Somewhere. You’ll find it.”
Nakayama laughs softly, then presses a kiss to Shirafuji’s forehead as he stands up and walks away. Shirafuji hears his footsteps approach where his table should be, and the sound of something dropping into the bin. When Nakayama doesn’t return immediately, however, Shirafuji opens his eyes and turns his head — ah, he left his scrapbook out this morning again, silly him, and Nakayama’s reading it with intent.
What did I write about this morning again…? Oh, about our anniversary. Oh, dear… I didn’t write anything too cheesy, did I? “Um… whatcha reading over there, Kasa?”
Nakayama looks up from the book with a soft smile. “You kept the little notecard I gave you.”
Shirafuji returns the smile as Nakayama comes back to the bed and sits on the side. “Of course I did. You know me, buried in papers all the time…”
Nakayama takes some wet wipes from Shirafuji’s bedside and clears away the stickiness between both of their legs — Shirafuji’s first, then his. “I mean, I am too… but your papers are much more enjoyable, I think.”
Shirafuji giggles, a little choked. “You really need to find a better job, Kasa.”
“Yeah, I really should.” Nakayama pauses, scrunching up the used wipe and aiming for the bin — it hits the side of the rim and falls on the ground, and he huffs. “What do you think would suit me, Fuji?”
“Mm, I don’t really know,” Shirafuji replies as Nakayama cuddles up next to him. “But you definitely need something less taxing. Or at least, a bit of a longer break than what they give you now. Maybe go visit your family…”
Nakayama pulls the blanket over them and wraps his arm around Shirafuji’s waist. “Mm, that sounds nice… hey, would you come with me, Fuji?”
“Hm? Why is that?”
“So they can meet you, my lovely boyfriend.”
Shirafuji chuckles, cuddling into Nakayama. “Hmm… I think I could. Tell me if you decide to, ‘kay?”
“Of course, dear.” Nakayama pecks Shirafuji’s cheek once more before his head hits the pillow. “As for now, though, you look like you gotta sleep.”
“Nn… gotta brush my teeth… put some clothes on…” Despite having to do all those things, Shirafuji can’t even bring himself to get up from the bed, too tired and comfortable to do anything at all — Nakayama’s pretty voice doesn’t help, his soft tones lulling him further into sleep.
“You don’t have to. I can get some clothes for you, if you like… though, you have a lot of cabinets in here, so…”
“It’s okay,” Shirafuji mumbles, eyes threatening to flutter shut at any moment. “Just… stay here an’…”
“Oh, Fuji… okay, just sleep, then. Good night, love you.”
The last thing Shirafuji feels before he really falls asleep is Nakayama’s lips on his own, a goodnight blessing for a sleeping beauty.
Shirafuji wakes the next morning loosely wrapped in a bathrobe beneath the blankets, no Nakayama to be found in the dip next to him. Sleepily shutting off his alarm, he stretches and squirms the hold of fatigue from his body, then props himself up from the pillows and sits up. The door to his bedroom is slightly opened, and both his and Nakayama’s clothes from last night are neatly folded on his work desk, his scrapbook also closed… with a tiny little sticky note on it.
Shirafuji blinks and rubs the sleep from his eyes, then slides himself out from the bed, hobbling over to the desk to read the note.
Had to go to work early, sorry. Brought breakfast for u on the table (no veg, promise). I’ll pick up my clothes tonight. See you lunchtime — your Kasa :)
“Oh, you little charmer, you…” Shirafuji mumbles to himself. He tightens the bathrobe round his waist and puts on his home slippers, waddling out of his room.
Surely enough, there sits a small plastic bento box on his kitchen counter, all wrapped up with a handkerchief. When Shirafuji opens it up, there’s a full assortment of a big breakfast waiting for him, condensation on the lid implying their freshness — some scrambled eggs with rice and ketchup, along with neatly cut octopus sausages, no vegetables in sight as promised. Shirafuji can’t help but smile at this whole gesture.
And to think I was doubting him last night, he mused, taking his chopsticks to dig in to the morning feast. Even in the quiet with no physical company, Shirafuji feels the room grow a little lighter, a few degrees warmer, a little bit more welcoming.
Once he finishes the out-of-the-ordinary breakfast, Shirafuji returns to his usual mundane routine — shower, hygiene, a little bit of skincare, work clothes, pack his things, say bye to his plants, out the door. Once he locks the door to his apartment, he checks his phone for the weather — clear skies the whole day. Fantastic news. Now, off to work—
“—Fuji?”
Shirafuji looks up from his phone, and there stands Nakayama, his boyfriend of one year and one day, that run-down stoic employee from the editor’s office down the road, in that same silly button-up and silken tie, his expression just a little lighter than usual. “Kasa?”
“Hey, morning, Fuji,” Nakayama greets with a genuine, happy smile, approaching Shirafuji for a kiss on the cheek. “I thought you’d wake up a little later.”
“Well, I thought you left already,” Shirafuji laughs, no malice in the accusation.
“Yeah, I was going to head off, but I left some stuff in my apartment.” Nakayama flicks that hand through his hair, then tilts his head towards the exit of the block. “I’ll walk you, then.”
Shirafuji smiles back with a little nod of appreciation. “I’d like that, thank you.”
It’s nice among his old and musty antiquity, but living in the moment with his beloved is just as wonderful an experience.