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Kei exits his insufferably boring class to find a single voicemail on his phone. He settles himself on a stool near the exit, watching for a break in the sleet outside. Students trail past him, conversations muffled behind scarves and hands and the tone of his phone dialing his voicemail box.
Tsukki, I’m dying, his boyfriend’s voice tells him.
There's a text as well: At the shop. Please come over after class? I'm still dying.
Tadashi sounds scratchy-throated and warbly in the voicemail, and Kei sighs fondly to himself as he tucks his phone into his peacoat pocket. He turns his collar up and makes sure his scarf is wound tight around his throat before ducking out into the cold.
Kei knows Tadashi isn’t dying—when they were younger, perhaps, Kei would have worried more, but they have a system. Kei knows. The phrase is a code for something else entirely, just so Tadashi doesn't worry Kei to death and back with dramatics.
He stops by the campus coffee shop—a blatant ripoff of another, more popular chain—and picks up something hot for himself, some pastries and one of the spinach and cheese filled pretzels, and then something massively sugary and frozen for Tadashi, before power-walking through slush to his car.
From there, it’s only a short drive to the bookstore that Tadashi’s family owns and lives above. Kei grabs his schoolbag and gingerly tucks the bag of pastries and the pretzel inside. He slips out of the car, pulls on the bag, and then grabs the two drinks.
He shoulders the door open, bells jingling as he slips inside. It’s warm and smells like fresh tea and ink. The store itself is dim, but fairy lights and mismatched lamps make the whole place glow orange. It’s empty inside; Tadashi’s mother is probably somewhere in the back, and Tadashi himself is probably in the loft. Tadashi’s father is most likely out, searching for more products to stuff onto the shelves, to add to the cheery warmth of aimless clutter.
He weaves through bookshelves, tables doubling as bookshelves, and display racks for odds and ends that Tadashi’s family accumulates. Somewhere along the line, Tadashi’s father had branched from books to used books to antiques and handmade items from local artists. It’s cluttered and haphazard but Kei loves the place. He knows Tadashi does too.
He climbs the small set of half-stairs to the little loft— it’s done up with Christmas lights and bean bags for clients to sit and read; there’s an old sofa wedged between bookshelves, and that’s where Kei finds Tadashi.
Tadashi’s laying on his stomach, nose planted firmly in a book. His fingers tap against the worn corduroy cover of the sofa, then lift to turn a page in a slow dance of movement that Kei stands and watches with a fond intensity.
“You don’t look dead to me,” Kei teases.
Tadashi turns his head, nose wrinkling up at their old joke. “Tsukki,” he whines. “I am dying. Not dead.” His face brightens at the sight of Kei’s cardboard cupholder and the brown bag. “Ok, I’m alive a little bit,” he corrects himself, holding his hands out.
Kei laughs and shakes his head. “Every time,” he teases. “There’s a brownie, and some cake, and something that had the word s’more in it.”
He steps over bean bags and books and the rumpled circle carpet that still covers the place where he and Tadashi had spilled white wash on the wooden beam floor years ago. He sets the drinks and the bag down on the table that holds Tadashi’s phone and a large stack of books.
“It’s just really bad,” Tadashi says, wincing as he sits up. His hand goes to his lower stomach and presses down, face wrinkling up in discomfort. “Ever since I started on the pill, it’s just…”
Kei’s face softens at Tadashi’s movements; he unwinds his scarf slowly, feeling guilty about Tadashi’s pain. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. He reaches out and touches Tadashi’s face with chilled fingers.
Tadashi leans into the touch, his skin almost blazingly hot against Kei’s colds fingers. “Avenge my death,” he says seriously. “And share the pretzel.”
“Hey, that’s mine,” Kei says, pouting.
Tadashi laughs and reaches for the bag, setting each piece of food on the table. “Yeah, but you never eat all of it.”
“Maybe I’m particularly hungry today.”
Tadashi gives Kei a look, eyebrow raised. “That still leaves, what, a fourth of it left for me?”
Kei laughs and sits next to Tadashi, hand settling on Tadashi’s thigh. He rubs his boyfriend’s thigh slowly as Tadashi leans into him, sighing happily.
“How was class?” Tadashi asks, eyes drifting shut as Kei’s hand moves in slow circles down to his knee. He lets Kei’s hand drift higher, covering Kei’s knuckles with his fingers as Kei’s hand slides between his legs.
“Boring,” Kei murmurs. Tadashi presses into him like a lazy cat, both leaning into his side and tipping his hips against his hand. He presses his thumb to Tadashi’s lower stomach, right over his pubic bone and rubs circles there. If they were alone, in private, he’d lay Tadashi out and rest his cheek against his stomach and use both hands on him. But here, all he can do is provide a little bit of warmth and comfort. “I wish analytical chemistry was a bit more exciting.”
“You signed up for it—what did you think you were gonna do, break bad?”
Kei laughs and pulls his hand back as the shop door chimes, patting Tadashi’s knee. He slings his arm around Tadashi’s waist, pulling him close. “Maybe—come on, eat. The faster you get some food in you, the quicker we can cuddle.”
Tadashi puts a hand to his chest and flutters his eyelids, faking a swoon. “So forward!”
Kei snickers, fingers prodding between Tadashi’s ribs. “Aha, such funny. Much joke.”
“Wow,” Tadashi deadpans. “Ok I’m eating all of your pretzel for that.”
“Rude,” Kei pouts. “I’ll eat your… s’more thing.”
“It’s a s’mores bar and nope. You can have the brownie.”
“I don’t want your stinkin’ brownie,” Kei retorts. He leans forward and starts handing Tadashi food and his drink.
Despite his protests and complaints, Kei dutifully pulls his pretzel apart, setting half on a napkin in Tadashi’s lap. “Here, that side has more cheese.”
“Aw, you do care,” Tadashi coos with a mouthful of brownie. It should be disgusting, because Tadashi’s not only talking with his mouth full, but some crumbs litter his mouth and fall out as he talks.
It’s… cute. Especially the way Tadashi splutters in embarrassment as Kei wordlessly reaches out with his napkin and wipes at Tadashi’s mouth.
“Wow, Tsukki, you really do love me,” Tadashi laughs, face pink.
Kei feels himself flush dark, which gives Tadashi even more ammo to tease him with. He doesn’t mind. It’s comfortable like this, curled on an old sofa, stuffing their faces with the adult versions of the junk food they ate in high school, lights twinkling around them like they’re in a movie. Tadashi slurps his frozen coffee and Kei nibbles at his pretzel until it’s gone, talking about classes and the old shiba dog that Tadashi watches for his neighbor when they’re away.
Kei sets his drink and napkin aside and slips his hand up Tadashi’s hoodie as Tadashi talks about a new shipment of specimens that had arrived at the lab around his straw. He rubs his thumb in slow circles, only mildly disgusted as Tadashi talks about sea cucumber gonads (and their resemblance to spaghetti) with vigor.
Somewhere along the line, Tadashi goes from sitting to slumping, to stretching himself across Tadashi’s lap. Kei isn’t surprised in the slightest as Tadashi inches himself so his stomach is against Kei’s thighs.
“You sure you won’t make yourself sick laying like this?” Kei asks, stretching slightly to wiggle his phone out of his pocket.
“Mm,” Tadashi says noncommittally, wiggling slightly. “I don’t know. I’d take barfing over monster cramps.”
“Don’t barf,” Kei begs, placing one hand on the center of Tadashi’s back as he opens up his e-book app.
“I don’t really want to,” Tadashi sighs. He picks his book back up and kicks his feet back. “I just… I hurt.”
“Did you take Advil or anything?” Kei asks, reaching out to grab Tadashi’s foot. He plays with the hem of Tadashi’s pokemon socks, tracing the line of Tadashi’s Achilles tendon.
“H’yup,” Tadashi grouses. “And it’s like… gross feeling. Like… No sex gross.”
“Tadashi,” Kei hisses, “There are people in the shop.”
Tadashi laughs and wiggles his hips, “I didn’t know we were putting up the public image of being chaste, Tsukki. Especially when we’re in this position—like you’re about to spank me.”
Kei feels his face, then neck heat. Tadashi peers over his shoulder and leers, “Aw, your ears are red!”
Kei almost wishes they were at their apartment, just so he could give Tadashi’s bottom a quick smack. And then lift him up off his feet and take him to their bed so he could tickle Tadashi until he squealed, and then… Well, Tadashi had said no sex, but there were other things that Kei could do.
Kei clears his throat and shakes his head. Tadashi laughs knowingly, kicking his feet again.
“You were just thinking lewd things, weren’t you,” Tadashi snickers, turning back to his book. “I know you were, your eyes glazed over in that way it does when you start thinking ‘oh, I could do this and then… what would Tadashi do?’”
Kei gives Tadashi’s thigh a pat.
“My butt’s higher up,” Tadashi comments, then pushes his hips down against Kei’s thighs.
“You sure you want to stay up here?” Kei asks, rubbing his hand up and down Tadashi’s legs idly. “I know it’s still your shift, but you’re not doing much.”
Tadashi makes a face and sighs, “Dad asked if I could stay.”
“Go talk to your mom,” Kei murmurs, “Home has heating pads and no pants.”
Tadashi rocks back and forth on Kei’s thighs, biting his lip. “Maybe,” he murmurs.
Kei runs his hand up Tadashi’s thigh and leans over to kiss Tadashi’s ear softly. “Yeah? And space heaters. Hell, if you wanted to just wear socks and boxers, I won’t complain.”
Tadashi laughs, turning his head towards Kei’s lips. “Tsukki, you never complain about that.”
“You caught me,” Kei whispers.
Tadashi wiggles a bit so he can turn towards Kei. He brushes their lips together as best he can at the awkward angle. Kei ends up kissing his cheek more than his lips, but Tadashi can’t complain.
“You two, being as flirty as ever,” Tadashi’s mother teases.
Kei breaks away, face hot, “Um! Hi, ma'am!” He hates that he actually squeaks.
“Mom!” Tadashi complains. He wiggles himself up onto his elbows. “Can’t you like… make a bird call or something to let us know?”
“You are in public,” his mother says, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, honey, your dad is back. I heard you and Kei-kun chatting—feel free to go home early if you feel bad. The roads are pretty icy, so we’re not expecting a lot of customers coming through.”
“Ah, thanks mom,” Tadashi says, face still scarlet.
His mother waves, then disappears down onto the main level of the shop. Tadashi sits all the way up, wrinkling his nose as he changes positions. “Ugh. Should not have lied down…”
Kei covers Tadashi’s hand with his own where Tadashi’s pressed his stomach. “C’mon. We can watch movies all day and order takeout.”
Tadashi nods, shifting on his knees. “Sounds like a plan. I’m... gonna go to the bathroom. Meet you at the door?”
“Gotcha. I’ll clean up. Is your bag behind the check out?”
“Yep,” Tadashi says, unfolding himself and standing. “See you there, hot stuff.”
“Please do not,” Kei complains.
Tadashi laughs as he hops down the stairs. “’Kay, babe!”
“Not that either,” Kei calls after him.
He tidies up the reading nook, gathering their trash into a bag and picking up Tadashi’s book. He doesn’t recognize the title, so he tucks it under his arm and takes it downstairs with him. He makes small talk with Tadashi’s mother and gets permission to take Tadashi’s book with them. He slings Tadashi’s book bag onto his shoulder with his own.
Tadashi comes trotting out from the back area a few minutes later, kisses his mother’s cheek and waves to his father, who’s started to hang Moroccan lanterns near the front. Kei wraps his scarf around Tadashi’s neck and puts a hand on his back.
“Careful, your dad says there’s some ice out on the sidewalk,” Kei murmurs.
“You sure you’re not just using that as an excuse to touch me?” Tadashi teases.
“I thought dating was that excuse,” Kei says blithely, ushering Tadashi out of the store.
“Touché,” Tadashi laughs, beaming up at Kei.
“There’s more touché-ing where that came from.”
Tadashi groans as Kei’s hand falls from his back to his ass. “That was the most god-awful joke I have ever heard from you, I have revoked your butt-groping rights.”
Kei scoffs in the back of his throat. “You can’t be serious, right?”
“Try living without my butt, Tsukishima Kei,” Tadashi says, reaching back to pluck Kei’s hand from his behind.
“Aw,” Kei murmurs, lacing their fingers instead.
“Well,” Tadashi amends, “Considering you might die without it…”
Kei laughs loudly, and Tadashi beams up at him. He swings their hands together as they tromp through the slick parking lot to Kei’s car. “I’m glad I texted you,” Tadashi says softly.
“This morning or when you asked me out first?”
“Both,” Tadashi says confidently as they come up on Kei’s car.
Kei opens the door for Tadashi, looming in the door even after Tadashi’s climbed in. He keeps his hands on the roof of the car even as he leans down. Tadashi leans up, and Kei kisses him softly.
“Good,” he murmurs. He presses his lips to Tadashi’s again, gently dragging Tadashi’s lip between his teeth as he pulls away. “Keep on doing that, whenever you want me.”
Tadashi smiles to himself, cramps momentarily forgotten as he revels in the tenderness of Kei’s face.