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The sound of water gently sloshing bounced off the porcelain tiles of the bathroom, and wet hands smoothed back wet hair. Gentle breaths sounded through the room. Komaeda sat in the bathtub, muscles relaxed in the warm water. The night was peaceful, as he found most nights to be now. So much had changed from just a year ago. The world was healing, they were healing.
He still remembered the days he served as a servant to the Remnants Of Despair, when he was simply called Servant so much that he almost forgot his own name, when his neck was constantly raw from the leather scraping against his neck as his chain was pulled along. He remembered the days when it was just him and Kamukura, mindlessly wandering throughout the deserted cities that reeked of dead bodies, never staying in the same water damaged house for more than a night, their legs aching from the miles they walked.
He had since remembered his name, and the raw skin on his neck had healed and faded into a reddened halo around where his collar and chain once were. It was still just him and Kamukura, but they had found a home they could call as such. The cities didn’t reek too bad anymore, at least the one they were in now, and their bodies only ached from the exertion of the past. The sky was getting lighter outside, the air slightly cleaner. They had heard of surrounding cities getting slowly filled by returning people. Things definitely weren’t close to normal, or, their long ago normal at least, but things were slowly resolving.
Komaeda sat up from his slouched position, leaning against the cold bathtub wall beside him.
He was forever grateful of Kamukura’s talents; for this wouldn’t be a reality if not for him. It was he that found a way to rewire the electricity, he that fixed the pipes and managed to get running water back, he that found a way to connect the radio to the nearest, likely last working radio tower. Komaeda knew part of that had to do with sheer luck, and he knew that Kamukura possessed that, but he also knew it was the others sheer diligence and drive to better things that made it actually happen, and for that he was thankful.
He turned his head to look at the edge of the porcelain bathtub at the line of soaps kept there. He supposed he should hurry up and wash before the water went cold. He couldn’t spend hours here in his thoughts. He lifted a lithe hand to take his respective shampoo bottle from the edge, only to discover there was barely any left, certainly not enough to clean his hair efficiently.
He now had a little more room to go back to his clean-freak ways in doses, and his hair was longer now than it was a year ago. This small amount of shampoo wouldn’t work.
Trailing his gaze back towards the soaps, he landed on Kamukura’s bottle. He knew it was full, or at least half full. He knew because he picked it up to put away yesterday and felt the heft. He had no idea how Komaeda ran out of soap faster than Kamukura, the others hair was significantly longer and thicker, but he also chalked it up to being a bit more indulgent than his partner.
He was sure a fuss wouldn’t be raised if he used it. They had shared far more than this, and at this rate, they were so used to each other they, most of the time, didn’t even feel a need to ask to use something that was the others. Besides, Komaeda had never been able to get enough of Izuru’s scent, maybe he’d keep himself at bay for a day or two by wearing more of it than he already did.
Taking the bottle and popping the cap, he squeezed the soap into his hands and lathered it into his wet hair, sinking under the water when it was time to rinse.
Some time later, he was standing outside of the tub with a towel around his waist, drying his now clean hair with a separate towel. Sounds of the bath water being sucked down the drain temporarily filled the room and served as a sort of white noise. When he was dry enough for his liking, he slid on a t-shirt that was old enough and hung off of him enough to be demoted to a sleep shirt, and black sweatpants he couldn’t remember where he got from.
He slid his ring over his ring finger, adjusting it momentarily and hanging the towels back up before exiting into the bedroom.
Kamukura was there waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the bed with a book in his lap. Komaeda found it amusing that, despite constantly preaching about books being boring and predictable, Kamukura was almost constantly reading something. Anything to entertain, he supposed.
He slid over to his fiance, tilting his head down to rest his forehead on the other’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. Okay, maybe using his soap wasn’t enough to keep myself at bay.
He felt a hand rubbing up his upper back to run through his hair, and he moved to the side to sit, never moving his head from Izuru’s shoulder. They had been with each other for years at this rate, but his clinginess never died down. In fact, he may have gotten more clingy since his servant days.
”You’ve used my soap.”
He heard after a few beats of silence. There it was, he knew it would be mentioned at some point. A smile played at Komaeda’s lips as he nudged his face closer to the crook of Kamukura’s neck.
”I’m running out.”
A playful tone sounded in his voice.
”Is that the full truth, or did you just want an excuse to use mine?”
He loved how his fiance was still so perceptive after all this time. He let out an amused hum, a small giggle sounding right after.
”Both.”
He certainly didn’t feel the need to lie, nor did he feel the need to hide his guilty giggle. At this rate he knew all too well that Kamukura could read him like an open book anyway.
He heard a hum radiate from behind the others lips, and the gentle snap of the hardback book closing. Komaeda kept his head tucked into the crook of his fiance’s neck, his smile growing every once and awhile.
The two moved in sync with each other, no awkward pauses or shuffling as they laid back on the bed. Another thing that came with the time of being together. Both could predict each other's movements; Kamukura developed that far faster than Komaeda did, but the former servant was still proud of himself that he even got to that point.
Sliding into the others arms on the bed, he moved his head down slightly to rest just below where he was before, listening to Kamukura’s steady heartbeat. His wiry muscles relaxed further against his lover's warmth, his eyes fluttering slightly yet staying closed. He felt he could fall asleep at any minute now, listening to the Ultimate Hope’s unchanging breathing that matched the stability of his heartbeat.
He felt woozy already, Komaeda would probably fall asleep soon, so he focused on basking in the moment.
He knew this comfort would happen the next night, and the night after, but he’d wallow in it the same every time, listening to their hearts syncing beats, and their breaths slowing as relaxation hit, and knowing that the worst was over; And on top of that,
He still smelt like Kamukura’s shampoo.