Work Text:
February 12th
“Remind me when you're getting back?”
As if I haven't been counting down the fucking days.
“Friday,”
It's only two more days. Why does it still feel so damn far away?
“Shit,” Sanemi sighed. He walked from his living room back to his bedroom. His dog followed after him.
“Sanemi Shinazugawa, do you miss me?” Giyu's voice teased through the phone.
Yes, God, I miss you.
“I miss not having to pick up your slack at the office,” Sanemi sighed, flopping back onto his bed. He patted the bed and said, “Kuma, up.” The German Shepherd promptly jumped up and stepped on his chest, tongue swiping his face eagerly. Sanemi sputtered, “Ugh, knock it off,” and gently shoved him away. Kuma lay down and Sanemi stroked his ears.
“Tell Kuma I'm jealous of him,” Giyu said. Sanemi could hear the sound of traffic somewhere beyond Giyu. He'd told Sanemi he was walking across town to get dinner with the head of their Northern branch, Gyomei Himejima, and a few of the other Northern sales reps.
“You're jealous of my dog?” Sanemi asked, glancing down at Kuma, who had nestled into his side.
“Your dog that gets to cuddle with you on your bed and kiss your face,” Giyu chuckled, “Yeah, I'm jealous.”
Sanemi's cheeks warmed and he rolled to his side, rubbing Kuma's belly. “Well, if you weren't still on the other side of the country, I'd invite you over.”
“If I weren't on the other side of the country, I'd already be there,” Giyu said, and though his tone was still light, there was something serious in it too.
Sanemi cleared his throat. “Anyway, how was the presentation today?”
Giyu groaned a bit. “It was kind of a nightmare.”
“Let me guess, Kibutsuji sent one of his guys with a counter-proposal,” Sanemi suggested.
Giyu grunted in the affirmative, then complained, “I don't understand his vendetta with Ubuyashiki. It's not like there's a shortage of clients who need an advertising firm to manage the face of their business, but he somehow figures out every time we have a major client opportunity and tries to undercut us.”
“Who did he send?” Sanemi asked.
“Who do you think?” Giyu replied and Sanemi could hear the roll in his eyes.
“Douma?” Sanemi guessed, picturing Kibutsuji's top (and by far most irritating) sales rep. Between his exotic appearance and his charm, if he'd shown up Giyu would have had his work cut out for him.
“Of course,” Giyu confirmed.
“That asshole is shady as hell,” Sanemi growled.
“The entire firm is, top down,” Giyu amended, “But he's a special kind of sociopath.” He sounded irritated, much more than he usually displayed openly. “He's just…infuriating.”
“Did he do something?” Sanemi asked, sitting up.
“Nothing he doesn't always do. Spent an hour mainly dragging our firm, rather than building the case for theirs. Then he had the nerve to ask me to get dinner with him the second the meeting ended.”
Sanemi's teeth ground, jaw clenched so tight it started to ache. His temper simmered dangerously. Fucking Douma. Imagining the man sidling up to Giyu, pinning him with his freaky-ass eyes, asking him on a date, it made him want to punch his teeth in. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Obviously, I told him to fuck off, take his bullshit and shove it up his ass,” Giyu said blandly.
Sanemi blinked and a startled laugh bubbled up. “You didn't actually say that to him,” Sanemi said through his laughter.
“I actually did,” Giyu told him, and Sanemi could hear a touch of pride in his voice. Sanemi collapsed back into his pillows, still laughing. Giyu didn't curse, as a general rule. To hear him swear so casually was as surprising as it was strangely endearing.
Shit, I love you.
Sanemi's laughter stuck like a rock in his throat as the thought hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut and punched the air from his lungs. He coughed hard, trying to cover his abrupt reaction, sitting up again and swinging his legs to the floor. Kuma stood up and looked at him with his head tilted curiously.
“You alright?” Giyu asked over the phone, “Are you choking on something?”
“I'm fine,” Sanemi gasped, “Shit, I just wasn't expecting that.” He didn't elaborate on what ‘ that ’ was.
“I'm full of surprises,” Giyu said, then added, “But it's probably mostly your bad influence.”
“Well, bad is relative, I think,” Sanemi said, but he was distracted.
I love you.
“You're right,” Giyu agreed. “Hey, I'm at the restaurant, so…I'll call you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I'll talk to you then,” Sanemi said.
“Alright…” Giyu's voice was reluctant.
Sanemi felt the same way.
I love you.
“Bye, Sanemi.”
The line went quiet.
“Bye,” Sanemi said into the dead space. He stared at the wall for a moment then slowly set his phone on his nightstand. He turned to Kuma, gripping the dog gently by the fluffy fur around his neck. “I'm in deep shit,” he said slowly to his dog, then dropped his head onto his shoulder. Kuma just panted and sat down, enduring Sanemi's attention.
Sanemi eventually let go and collapsed back into his bed, overwhelmed. He didn't know how to process the sudden revelation. He turned it over and over in his mind until he finally fell asleep with Giyu's face in his mind's eye, the three words that had forced their way into the open beating against his ribcage in time with his heart.
I love you.
February 13th
Now that Sanemi had thought them, the words seemed determined to stay stuck on repeat.
They circled his head as he made his breakfast, thinking idly about how Giyu seldom bothered with making himself anything to eat in the mornings because he’d rather sleep an extra thirty minutes.
They hovered over his shoulder as he got his coffee from a shop near their office, sipping it only to find it more bitter than he preferred. He thought about how Giyu drank his coffee black without a touch of sugar or cream.
They settled on him like a blanket around his shoulders as he walked into the office and greeted co-workers, wishing that Giyu were there, wishing he wasn’t eight hours north, wishing that when he looked up he’d see him across the office at his desk.
Sanemi sighed and logged into his computer and the words burrowed deep into his bones.
I love Giyu Tomioka.
It was too fast, wasn't it?
Shit, what am I doing?
It had only been six weeks since their first date. Six weeks. You couldn't get to know someone in six weeks. After six weeks there were still fucking butterflies every time you saw their name pop up on your phone. You still cared how you looked before you saw them. You hadn’t had a single argument. Six weeks was a criminally short amount of time to decide something as important as whether or not you loved someone.
Do I actually love him?
Sanemi asked himself the question over and over.
His heart insisted, yes.
His brain begged him to slow down.
But he couldn't deny that this was…true. Maybe the truest thing he’d ever felt.
How could that be possible?
Sanemi set his head in his hand and set the distracting thoughts aside, clicking through his emails, answering some, deleting most.
“Hey, Shinazugawa!”
Sanemi looked up. Tengen stood at the corner of his desk. “Hey, Uzui,” Sanemi grunted.
“Got a date lined up for tomorrow?” Tengen asked, setting a hand on his hip and fiddling idly with his earring, a dangling string of diamonds that would have looked more appropriate on a runway than in a corporate office.
Sanemi groaned. “I told you, I’m not going.”
“Dude, you are not just sitting home alone with your dog on the day of love,” Tengen argued, setting his hands down on the desk and leaning into Sanemi’s space.
Sanemi frowned up at him. He and Giyu hadn’t shared with the office that they were seeing each other yet. It wasn’t that they wanted to keep it a secret. It was just that…well, it was still new all things considered (even if his heart had gone rogue and conveniently ignored that fact) and they didn’t want people in the office giving them shit about it all the time. Especially if it didn’t work out for some reason.
Sanemi raked a hand through his hair. “I didn’t say I was staying home. I said I wasn’t going with you and your three girlfriends on a fucking bender.”
Tengen gasped, feigning offense. “We are not going on a bender. We’re doing a Valentine’s Bar Hop because my girls each have different tastes, obviously, and it’s going to be f-”
“I swear to God if you say flashy, ” Sanemi snapped.
“Fun. It’s going to be fun. Shit, man, who pissed in your coffee?” Tengen laughed, unaffected by Sanemi’s mood.
Sanemi sighed. “Sorry, it’s not you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head.
“I get it,” Tengen said. He raised an eyebrow. “Just to be clear, though. You do have plans tomorrow?”
Sanemi rolled his eyes. “Probably. It’s up in the air.”
Up in the air, because Giyu had one last meeting with a potential client in the morning. There was no knowing how long that would take, especially if the client decided to sign. Then there was the long drive back. What time Giyu got home would determine if Sanemi had plans and what those plans were.
If he was being honest, Sanemi had never had much respect for Valentine’s Day as a holiday anyway. Why did there need to be a specific day designated to compel you to demonstrate your affection by purchasing useless gifts? Valentine's shit inevitably ended up in the trash or on your waistline, and yet if you didn't paticipate in the ritual you'd be accused of not loving your partner enough. The fucking commercialism of it disgusted him.
But with Giyu… Well. He didn’t think Giyu wanted flowers or chocolate or a giant stuffed bear, but for the first time, Sanemi cared that it was going to be Valentine’s Day and he had someone to share it with. Sanemi wanted to do something for Giyu. Whether it was taking him somewhere special that would make an impact, or giving him a gift that actually meant something, or… Maybe just telling him how he felt. Even if it was way too soon for it.
God, I really love him.
But…
No, he rejected the idea. No way.
He couldn’t tell Giyu yet. He couldn’t expect that whatever insanity had overtaken him was mutual. Six weeks and twice as many dates? Hell no. Sanemi needed to keep his damn heart on a leash and let Giyu’s feelings grow naturally, not under pressure from Sanemi’s overexuberance.
“Helllooo, did you have a stroke?” Tengen snapped in front of Sanemi’s face.
“Sorry, what?” Sanemi shook himself out of his thoughts.
Tengen chuckled, “You really do have a lot on your mind, don’t you? I just asked who the lucky guy – or girl – is? I didn't know you were dating anyone.”
“Well that’s because I don’t bring my personal life into work with me,” Sanemi said. He had to hold back a smile at the irony of that statement.
“Which I sincerely don’t appreciate. Sharing is caring, so spill,” Tengen demanded.
“For the sake of my sanity, I’m going to have to pass,” Sanemi declined.
“Your sanity ?” Tengen scoffed, “Come on. When have I ever given you grief about who you date?”
“Not me,” Sanemi said, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his chair back, “But when you figured out Iguro had a thing for Kanroji? You tormented him until I thought he was going to quit. And I haven’t forgotten about when you thought Kyojuro might have a girlfriend last summer. You didn’t shut up about it for two months.”
“I have a vested interest in my friends’ happiness,” Tengen argued.
“And I have a vested interest in keeping my dating life my dating life,” Sanemi countered.
Tengen snorted and shook his head, earrings swinging. “Fine, be that way,” he said, “But if this thing you’ve got going gets serious, then no excuses. You’ve got to go on a double with me and the girls, alright?”
“Alright, deal,” Sanemi said. Whatever it took to get Tengen out of his hair for a while.
Tengen knocked Sanemi’s desk with his knuckles and said, “Happy V-Day, lover-boy,” before he swaggered across the office towards Kyojuro’s desk, probably to drag him into the same Valentine’s Bar Hop that he’d tried to rope Sanemi into.
Sanemi shook his head and got back to work. The rest of the day dragged on, minutes creeping by like hours. Giyu texted Sanemi periodically. He sent random observations, pictures of interesting things he saw, asking him how his day was going. Every time his phone vibrated, Sanemi’s heart jumped. Every time he saw Giyu’s name in the notification, he smiled.
Close to the end of the day, Giyu sent him a picture of an interesting fountain, an abstract design that seemed to depict elements, stylized wind, and flames rising from stone, water pouring from the top.
‘You should send me a picture with you in it,’ Sanemi replied. It had been almost a week and a half since he’d seen Giyu. He had a few pictures of him on his phone, but he wanted something new, something current.
‘Why?’ Giyu sent back.
Sanemi shook his head with a fond smile. Giyu Tomioka, blunt as ever. He considered how to respond, hesitating. He meant to respond with something light, teasing, but all he could think was how badly he wanted to see Giyu, and how much he wished he were with him.
‘Because I actually do miss you,’ Sanemi finally sent. He stared at his phone, tapping his foot. After a minute with no reply, he sighed and closed his phone. He went to return it to his pocket when it buzzed again. He whipped it back out, heart racing, and swiped it open.
Giyu had sent him a selfie, him standing in front of the same fountain he’d sent before. Sanemi’s heart skipped and he smiled. Giyu wasn’t quite looking at the camera and wasn’t quite smiling. There was a hint of that pretty flush on his cheeks that had finally drawn Sanemi to him on Christmas Eve after years of working in the same office. His raven hair was wind-swept, and his eyes, God, those eyes were like cut sapphires. He was so damn beautiful, it hurt.
I love you.
The words slammed into him again, unavoidable, undeniable, the force of them driving straight through to his core. This man had Sanemi wrapped around his finger, and he didn’t even know it.
‘Good enough?’ Giyu sent a moment later.
‘Perfect,’ Sanemi replied, ‘Thanks’
‘I miss you, too.’
Sanemi sighed as he read the words, then read them again. He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket before his chest caved in from the pressure of the emotions that were overloading his system.
Sanemi struggled to focus through the rest of work, but he finally wrapped up his tasks for the day and logged out of his computer. Heading for the doors, he said his goodbyes to Kyojuro, Obanai, and Tengen as he passed them.
Walking to his car, parked a block from the office near his usual coffee shop, Sanemi's mind, as it ever seemed to be, circled around Giyu. What was he doing? How had his day gone? They usually talked in the evenings and Sanemi was impatiently looking forward to it.
He passed a pop-up stand selling last-minute Valentine’s gifts: candy roses, miniature bouquets in cute vases, tiny bears hugging hearts and boxes of fancy chocolates, and a selection of jewelry. Sanemi was going to just pass the little stand-by, but he glanced over as he was walking and paused, something catching his eye.
He stepped up to the table and looked over a series of bracelets. Giyu wasn’t much for jewelry, but these bracelets… They were simple enough that Sanemi could see Giyu wearing one. He picked one up. It was just thinly braided black thread with adjustable ends, lined with very small charcoal and gunmetal gray beads. The color of the two different beads was so negligible that at a glance they looked to be the same shade, one only slightly brighter than the other. The pattern of the beads, though…
“This is in Morse code?” Sanemi asked, lifting the bracelet to eye it closer.
The woman running the stand nodded with a kind smile. “Creative, isn’t it? Nice and subtle, if your special someone isn’t one for big gestures.”
Sanemi nodded. What were the odds that Giyu knew Morse code? Not too good, he thought… That was if he even noticed that the beads were different colors, and realized that the colors were in an intentional pattern, and not simply random.
“I’ll take this one,” Sanemi said, pulling out his wallet. The woman took the bracelet and put it in a gray tulle gift bag, then accepted his money and handed him the bag.
“Thank you for your business,” the woman said, “Have a happy Valentine’s Day.”
Sanemi nodded his thanks and went on his way, tucking the bagged bracelet into his jacket pocket gently.
He smiled as he finished the walk back to his car. Giyu was coming home tomorrow. Sanemi would get to see him. He’d get to hold him in his arms, kiss him breathless, talk to him without the distance between them. Those three persistent words would finally have the object of their devotion within reach.
Sanemi was cooking his dinner when Giyu called him a bit later.
He pulled out his phone, seeing Giyu’s name on the screen, and his pulse ticked up. The words persisted, a brand on his mind demanding his attention again and again.
“Hey,” Sanemi said as he answered the call, smiling. He shifted his phone, balancing it between his ear and his shoulder, steadying a pot with one hand while he whisked the sauce inside.
“Hey,” Giyu returned warmly, “How are you?”
“Fine,” Sanemi said, “Same old really, just making dinner. How did it go today?”
“Better than yesterday,” Giyu said, and Sanemi could hear the smile in his voice, “I’m pretty sure they’re going to sign with us. They’ll send their final decision tomorrow morning, but I feel good about it.”
“Thank God,” Sanemi said, “Those assholes over at Kibutsuji need a fucking reality check. Did you take the head off Douma’s proposal?”
“Yeah, I was able to pull statistics from the performance of some of their top clients compared to ours. The evidence spoke for itself, so I didn’t have to do much,” Giyu said modestly.
“Bullshit, Giyu,” Sanemi said with a chuckle, pouring the sauce over chicken, vegetables, and rice in a glass dish, covering it with foil, and sliding it into the oven. “There’s a reason Ubuyashiki sends you to our biggest clients.”
“Because I’m quiet and awkward?” Giyu asked.
“Because you’re professional, coolheaded, and have integrity written across your forehead,” Sanemi said, pulling fruits from the fridge and setting them on a cutting board.
“Stop flattering me,” Giyu said self-consciously.
“Flattery is for fools,” Sanemi said, “I’m giving you facts.”
Giyu sighed exasperatedly, and Sanemi could imagine the flush that he probably had on his cheeks. He wished he could see it. He wanted to see Giyu so badly it was practically a physical thing at this point, as pressing a need as hunger or thirst.
“Any idea what time you’ll be getting back tomorrow?” Sanemi asked, trying to not sound too invested in the answer. He chopped the fruit steadily, depositing it in a bowl with a yogurt dressing.
“No,” Giyu said a bit regretfully, “But I hope that I’ll be home early enough that we can still go out for dinner.”
“If you aren’t, that’s okay,” Sanemi said, “I can even cook for you if you want. You can let me know when you’re an hour out and I’ll get it started.”
“No, you shouldn’t have to do that,” Giyu dismissed the idea, “I’ll do my best to be out of here by ten, then I’d be back by six if traffic is okay.”
“You don’t need to stress about the time, Giyu,” Sanemi insisted, “I don’t care how late it is as long as you get your ass here in one piece.”
Giyu seemed to hesitate a bit before he tentatively said, “I’m sorry I’m missing most of the holiday.”
Sanemi shook his head as he set his knife and cutting board in the sink and then sat on a barstool at the counter while he waited for his casserole to finish heating through. “I told you. Valentine’s Day is just an excuse to buy overpriced shit. I can take you out to dinner any day. We can buy chocolate anytime we want it. I’ll buy you flowers every week if it makes you happy. But February 14th is just another day on the calendar. It’s worse that you were out of town over your birthday.”
“Well, missing my birthday is nothing worth being upset over,” Giyu said.
“The hell it isn’t!” Sanemi said adamantly, “The day you were born is more important than any ‘holidays’ on the calendar, Giyu Tomioka. We’re doing a make-up birthday celebration for you, no arguments.”
“But you get so worked up when you argue about things,” Giyu teased, “It’s a little fun to watch you turn red.”
“God, you’re a brat sometimes,” Sanemi groaned, though the sentiment had no bite to it, and on the inside, the words continued silently: I love that about you. I love everything about you. I love you so damn much–
Sanemi dropped his head onto his counter, drowning in embarrassment. It was absurd. The flavor of his thoughts had been hijacked by this over-sentimental shit, so disgustingly sweet he was sure it was only a matter of time before he developed tooth-rot.
“So what do you have going on for your last night?” Sanemi asked. He lifted his head and took the bag holding the bracelet he'd bought for Giyu from where he had set it on the counter, rolling the beads in his fingers through the tulle.
“I’ve got to get the paperwork finished for the client, assuming they're going to sign on,” Giyu said.
“Exciting,” Sanemi said, setting the bracelet back. He reached his hand down and snapped once. Kuma heard the command and obliged, trotting under the counter and sitting at Sanemi’s knee so Sanemi could pet his ears.
Giyu sighed, “Yeah – I guess I should probably get going on that and let you get to your dinner. I want to get to bed early.”
Sanemi felt a twinge of disappointment. He didn't want to say goodbye yet. It wasn’t nearly enough, these conversations on the phone. But, he couldn't argue. Giyu’s reasoning made sense. The last thing he wanted was for Giyu not to get enough sleep the night before he had to be on the road for eight hours.
Sanemi’s timer on his dinner went off and he stood up, adjusting his phone to his shoulder again and grabbing some hot pads.
“Yeah, I guess you're right,” Sanemi allowed, not hiding his displeasure even as he agreed, “Getting to bed early makes sense.” He opened the oven.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you,” Giyu said quietly, “Ten days…feels like a really long time.”
Sanemi hesitated before reaching for the glass dish, and said, “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He pulled out the dish, careful not to touch his arms on the edges of the stove as he lifted it.
Giyu gave a sigh, and reluctantly said, “Alright, Sanemi, enjoy your dinner. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
Sanemi turned to set the dish on the counter. Kuma walked around the corner, putting himself in the way. Sanemi almost dropped the dish as he got between his legs. “Shit, move dog,” he said and Giyu chuckled. Sanemi shook his head and set the dish down. “Sorry, anyways, yeah, get some sleep, call me tomorrow–” He lifted the foil. “I love you.” Then pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call. He reached for his meat thermometer, though everything looked done. The broccoli was soft enough, and so was the rice. It smelled great–
Wait.
Sanemi froze. The thermometer clattered as it bounced off the edge of the glass dish and hit the counter. Sanemi’s heart climbed up his throat and his stomach plunged to the floor.
He ran what he’d said on the phone back in his head.
He’d said…
“Shit,” Sanemi hissed, “Shit, shit, shit.”
Those three damn words. Twenty-four hours on repeat and in one damn second of distraction they'd wormed their way out of his head and into his mouth.
He'd told Giyu.
Before they'd even remotely defined their relationship.
Before they'd ever talked about stupid labels like boyfriend.
Before they'd discussed expectations or what they thought the future might look like for this thing they were doing.
Told him that after six measly weeks, he'd somehow managed to fall head-over-fucking-heels in love with him.
Sanemi set his elbows on the counter, lacing his fingers behind his head and bowing it, thoughts racing.
What the hell do I do?
Did he call Giyu back? Apologize? Say it was a mistake? Maybe he should just send a text to explain himself. But then, maybe Giyu hadn’t even heard what he said. It had been a quick slip, right at the end of the call. There was a chance that Giyu had missed it entirely. Maybe.
Kuma sniffed at his legs and sat down, leaning against him. The sense of the animal beside him grounded him somewhat. He tried to slow down his thoughts and take a step back.
What was done was done, right?
There was no taking it back.
So maybe it was better to just wait.
As insane as it might be, what Sanemi had said was the truth. So maybe he just let it sit. If Giyu had heard him, then the ball was in his court. Sanemi felt like shit for spiking it at him like that, but maybe it would be best now to just let Giyu decide how to respond. If Sanemi tried to do damage control, that would probably just make an uncertain situation messier.
Anxiety twisted his gut.
Please don't let this have screwed everything up…
He breathed, breathed, a conscious effort to settle his nerves, and looked up.
Please let it be okay.
Sanemi's appetite was gone. He left the food he had made on the counter to allow it to cool enough for him to divide it into containers and put in the fridge. He'd save it for lunch for the next few days. He snapped his fingers at Kuma and went to his couch. Kuma followed and jumped up, his bulk making the cushions sink. The dog turned a tight circle and curled into a ball that belied his size. He settled his head on Sanemi's lap.
Sanemi put on a movie to occupy his mind and ran his hand over Kuma's head, trying to let the soothing motion distract him. He was too aware of his phone, though, eyes flitting again and again to where it sat face up on the couch beside him. He was too aware of the dark screen. He was too aware of the silence.
February 14th
Sanemi slept awful. In fact, upon hitting the button to kill his alarm and cracking his eyes open to greet the morning, he didn't really think he'd actually slept at all. He'd tossed and turned all night, adjusting blankets and changing position, restless enough that Kuma had finally left his bed and gone to his dog bed in the corner of Sanemi's room.
The first thing Sanemi did when he woke up was check his phone.
No texts.
He sighed heavily, and the anxiety that sleep had done virtually nothing to settle twisted harder.
“Damn it,” Sanemi said as he got up and went about his morning routine.
At what point did he just call or text Giyu himself?
Standing in the bathroom, he turned his phone in his hands. He considered, then opened it and pulled up the text thread he had going with Giyu. His thumb hovered over the message box. Then moved up to the phone icon.
No.
He put his phone away and splashed his face with water, running his hands through his hair.
Sanemi wasn't patient by nature. He preferred to attack his problems, fast and head-on. Giyu, on the other hand, approached situations with a clinical eye, calm and steady and relentless as the march of a glacier. He wouldn't be pushed. He wouldn't be diverted. He wouldn't be rushed. Giyu came to things in his own time, and Sanemi knew he needed to let him. When he was ready to talk to Sanemi, he would reach out.
So Sanemi forced himself to wait.
And it was sort of like torture.
But Sanemi loved Giyu, and he’d endure the silence for as long as Giyu needed him to.
At work, Sanemi did his best to actually do his job and not simply go through the motions. He was far from focused, though.
He chatted with Obanai during a morning break. Obanai spent most of the time describing in detail the over-the-top evening Mitsuri had planned for them. The woman wasn’t playing around, it seemed. Sanemi would never understand how his sullen friend and their bubbly co-worker were a compatible match, and he said as much. Obanai just sighed and said that Mitsuri took Love very seriously, and he loved her enough to humor her, even though he thought it was all a bit ridiculous.
During lunch, Sanemi dodged Tengen's last-ditch effort to convince him to bring his mysterious date and join him and Kyojuro for the evening.
His afternoon was taken up by a meeting with the interns to go over their quarterly goals, which should have been done a month ago. Shinobu was usually in charge of the interns, but she'd been assigned to a joint project with a third party that had insider information about the Kibitsuji firm, and the interns had been put on the backburner somewhat. Amane had finally asked him to take over for Shinobu. He thought he was probably the worst choice for that particular assignment, but you didn't just tell Amane Ubuyashiki that you weren't going to take on the task that she had given you. You might as well tell the CEO himself, and Sanemi had far too much respect for Kagaya Ubuyashiki to do that.
After meeting with the interns, Sanemi checked his phone for the thousandth time that day. His eyes widened when he saw that he had a missed call from Giyu. He hadn't left a message, though.
“Goddamnit,” Sanemi snarled, and tried to call him back but it went straight to voicemail. Sanemi looked at the time and growled in frustration. Based on when Giyu had said he hoped to leave, he would probably be crossing through the mountain ranges. Service was notoriously spotty through those canyons.
Still. He wished Giyu would have at least left him a voicemail. The not-knowing of all of it was killing him.
Sanemi tried (hopelessly and without any success) to put it out of his mind and finish his workload for the day. With it being a holiday – even such an idiotic one as Valentine’s Day – a lot of the office was taking off early. By five o’clock Sanemi was one of a scant handful of people left on the job. He tried calling Giyu again, and again was sent straight to voicemail. There was no way Giyu was still in the mountains, so that meant that he was probably dodging the calls. Sanemi sighed and sent Giyu a text apologizing for missing his call earlier and asking him to call back when he could.
But, as it had been the night before and through the morning, all he got was radio silence.
Which, Sanemi thought, couldn’t be a good sign.
Walking to his car, parked in its usual spot a block down by the coffee shop, Sanemi’s face was carved in a glare that had people darting out of his way. All around, walking down the sidewalk, couples were arm in arm, grinning and exuding that happy natural high that comes with being with the person you’re in love with. Sanemi sort of hated all of them.
Driving home, and he still hadn’t heard a damn thing from Giyu. He wasn’t angry with him. He was furious with himself, though. He’d screwed everything up. He’d said those three cursed words too soon and ruined the whole damn thing.
The worst part was that ruining everything didn’t stop him from loving Giyu. All it did was make the love hurt in a way that Sanemi hadn’t ever experienced. He didn’t even know for sure what was going on, but his mind had already sprinted away with every possible negative scenario, and in every one, this thing between them didn’t work out. It stole his breath and made his eyes burn; even the thought of losing Giyu made him feel like he would crumble into a thousand pieces and be blown away on the next breeze.
And that was the frame of mind that Sanemi was in when he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex and saw Giyu. He was leaning against his car outside the walk to Sanemi's building, watching the evening sun struggle to pierce the clouds away to the west. Hope and anxiety, relief and fear, surged under Sanemi's skin and crowded to take charge of his actions. But the one emotion that beat out every other thing was just love. He loved this person.
Sanemi whipped his car into a parking spot and was out the door practically before he had the keys out of the ignition. Giyu looked over, and Sanemi was afraid of what he might see on his face, but…
He looked happy to see Sanemi, eyes warm and affectionate, his expression softening into a smile that made Sanemi feel like he was flying. He still had no clue what Giyu’s response to his accidental confession was, but he was here, and he was smiling, and that was enough.
Sanemi closed the distance between them at a jog and Giyu only had time to say, “Hey–” before Sanemi pulled him into his arms. Giyu’s arms wrapped tightly around Sanemi in return, holding him so close that it drove the fear out of Sanemi entirely. Whether Giyu loved him yet or not, his embrace reassured Sanemi that he hadn’t ruined everything. They were okay.
“I know I missed your call,” Sanemi said into Giyu’s shoulder, “But in the future, you could send a text just to let me know you’re alive – I’ve been losing my damn mind.”
“My phone is dead,” Giyu said, the air squeezed from his lungs making the statement come out breathless.
Sanemi pulled back enough to look at Giyu properly.
“Your phone–?” Sanemi asked.
Giyu nodded, looking embarrassed. “I forgot to charge it last night, but I didn’t realize it until it was down to ten percent after my meetings, and then I realized I forgot my charger at the hotel when I checked out,” Giyu explained, “So, I tried to call you–”
“Which I missed,” Sanemi sighed.
“-and then it died. The USB port in my car doesn’t work well, so I didn’t want to bother with going out of my way to buy a new one. I just…started driving.”
Everything clicked into place, the explanation for Giyu’s lack of communication settling on Sanemi’s shoulders and making all of his worries and unfounded concerns feel so damn stupid.
“And you came here,” Sanemi said.
“I almost went straight to the office,” Giyu said with a breathy laugh, pressing his forehead to Sanemi’s, eyes closed. His arms moved up to wind around Sanemi’s neck and Sanemi felt one of Giyu’s hands thread into his hair. Giyu said in a low voice, “Did you mean what you said?”
I love you.
“I know it’s too damn fast,” Sanemi said, feeling his face flush, “But–”
“It’s not,” Giyu disagreed, shaking his head, the movement brushing his nose against Sanemi’s.
Sanemi’s heart beat hard in his chest. “I meant it,” he said quietly, lifting a hand to Giyu’s face, brushing his hair back then stroking his cheek with his thumb, “I’m sorry it came out like that, though.”
Giyu shook his head again and said, “Don’t say you’re sorry.” Then he kissed Sanemi.
Finally.
Sanemi pulled Giyu tighter against him, kissing him back, realizing the full measure of how much he’d missed him. Seeing him. Talking to him. Holding him. Kissing him. He’d missed Giyu so damn much. He smiled against Giyu’s lips, happiness filling every space in his body.
You and me, together. This is right.
Somehow that thought hit Sanemi as hard as the realization that he loved Giyu. This feeling that being with Giyu wasn’t only what Sanemi wanted, but that it was correct; like they somehow fit together, two puzzle pieces whose edges matched.
How the hell did I get so damn lucky?
Sanemi didn’t know. He didn't care. He was here with Giyu. Whatever had brought him to this point, he was grateful.
“Say it again,” Giyu murmured into their kiss.
Sanemi drew back, met Giyu’s sapphire gaze, wanting to drive the truth of it into him. These weren't just words. “I love you, Giyu,” Sanemi said.
Giyu’s smile was every beautiful thing Sanemi had ever seen. Then something half-mischief and half-self-consciousness crossed his features. He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled something out.
“This is probably too fast…” Giyu said and held a key out to Sanemi. Sanemi looked at it in shock. Giyu’s face warmed with the pretty flush that Sanemi adored, and he said, “You don't have to use it. But…I want you to.” He blew out a breath, ducked his head, and said, “I love you, too, Sanemi.”
The words wrapped around Sanemi and held him fast, and emotion made his throat tight.
“Shit,” he muttered around the lump in his throat. He took the key from Giyu's hand and pocketed it before he laced Giyu’s hand with his, “You’re making me soft, asshole.”
“I’m not sorry,” Giyu, eyes shifting back up. He smiled again, self-consciousness easing as he saw Sanemi's equally flustered expression. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Sanemi’s again tenderly.
“You’re going to regret giving me unrestricted access to you, you know,” Sanemi said between kisses.
Giyu laughed, his breath warm on Sanemi’s lips, and said, “Impossible.”
“You won’t be able to get rid of me,” Sanemi warned, running his hands down Giyu’s back.
“That’s the idea,” Giyu murmured, hands holding Sanemi’s face gently as he kissed him again and again and again.
Sanemi lost track of how long they stood there, leaning against Giyu’s car, Giyu pressed into him, arms around each other, thoroughly reacquainting their lips after the time apart. They were interrupted when a car drove by and honked at them, someone howling out the window, and Sanemi looked up with a glare only to realize that the sunlight was nearly gone.
He wanted to take Giyu inside and just enjoy being with him without any pressure. But it was a holiday.
“Hey,” he said, caressing Giyu’s jaw, “It’s still Valentine’s Day. Do you want to go out? I’ll take you anywhere you want to go…”
Giyu considered for a moment, but then said with a playful smile, “All I want is to be with you, and I don’t feel like sharing you with a crowd. So let’s just…order a pizza, and stay here.”
“Thank God,” Sanemi groaned in relief and slung his arm casually over Giyu’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to his temple, starting towards the building. “You know, I knew I had good taste, but damn. It's like you read my mind,” he joked.
Giyu laughed and leaned into Sanemi’s side, holding him close. “Happy Valentine’s, Sanemi.”
“When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to the other.
The presence that is felt through a hand held, a voice heard, or a smile seen.
Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the notion of time or distance.
They only know it feels right to be with one another.”
-Lang Leav-
These little details didn't fit into the narrative, but you might find them interesting:
- Kuma is a red and black long-hair GSD. He is a four-year-old rescue. Sanemi got him three years ago. He trained him extensively, and Kuma is the sweetest dog you ever met. Giyu was nervous about Kuma at first because he’s had some bad experiences with dogs, but now they’re best friends.
- This is the type of bracelet that Sanemi bought for Giyu. He gave it to him later in the evening (he'd sort of forgotten all about it.) Turns out that Giyu does know morse code and figured out the bracelet within a few minutes. He wears it every day.
- Giyu knew he was in love with Sanemi very early on. He’d had a romantic interest in him for over a year before they started dating, after all. He had an extra key to his apartment made for Sanemi a few weeks after they started dating, but he didn’t want to be too forward. He was waiting for a good opportunity to give it to him. Without Sanemi’s slip-up confession, it would’ve taken Giyu another few months to give Sanemi the key.