Chapter Text
After another brutal day you trudged home. Not acknowledging the rain as it pelted you on the way. You could barely keep your eyes open. Walking in the door, the water weighed you down. Pulling on your curls and clothing. It’s perfectly silent and the overcast leaves the room dark. Hanging your coat and barely toweling down, you’ve hit your limit. As soon as your body hits the couch, you’re out like a light.
Suncatchers and prism pendants in the windows make the evening light dance on the walls that were littered with memories. Band fliers, photos, ripped off book covers, posters, candid polaroids, stringed lights, and love notes. Reminders of everything beautiful in your life. Drawn awake by the smell of marinara and the sound of boiling and meat sizzling in a pan. Not any marinara, Chuuya’s secret recipe. Your eyes opened slightly and peered out of your makeshift nest.
Copper hair pulled back, a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and an apron he brought from home. When asked why some time ago, ‘Because you don’t have one and I’m not a slob.’ He teased. Chuuya heard movement and glanced over his shoulder. “Knew that would get your attention.” With that soft smile that only you had ever seen and a quiet patience hidden underneath a rough surface. “Thought you could use some comfort after the day you had.”
Holding the blanket like a cloak and wandering into the kitchen, you stand over the sauce and breathe in deep. “One of these days, you’re going to tell me your secret to this.”
“Like hell I will. If you learn the secret, I’ll lose my leverage on you. Can’t have you getting away from me.”
Approaching from behind, you swallow him up into the blanket with you. “You’re terribly mistaken. It’s actually you that has no escape.” Your laughs soften under the heavy blanket.
Before you realize what’s happening, he’s captured your lips in a soft kiss. “That so? You’ll have to release me at some point if you don’t want the meatballs to burn.”
Tightening your embrace, how are you supposed to let him go after something like that?
“Seriously, Roan. They’re going to start burning in five, four three, two-”
Pulling away, you free him from your clutches. “Fine.” Grumbling.
“Might taste a little different. I used up the last of your basil, and there wasn’t enough for the usual recipe.” Smirking over his shoulder.
With a deep sigh, “Is there anything else you need from the store?”
Suppressing a smile. “Nope, just basil.”
The rain had subsided and the spring air was comfortable, so you don’t bother with your jacket. The cool breeze carries the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms that catch warm evening light. It seemed like another world from the one you came home in. Although the shop sits on a nearby corner, you take your time. These quiet moments are rare. Beautiful moments even more so.
The owner of the shop stands up straight as the tone of the automatic door chimes. Smiling when he sees that it’s you. “Good evening, Roan. It sure is a lovely evening, isn’t it?” Quite a few people roam the aisles, buying staples. Some stand at the ready made food display looking for dinner.
Returning the smile. “Yeah. It’s nice. Looks like business is good.”
At the sound of your name, a couple of customers abandon their baskets and exit the store quickly.
Your jaw tenses. “Sorry about that.” Low, like you’re apologizing for existing.
“Don’t worry about it. They aren’t regulars, and they don’t know you like the rest of the community does.” Smiling sympathetically, “We know the real you.”
Forcing a smile, you know he means well. “Thanks.” But it doesn’t change what you are. After grabbing a jar of basil, you’re passing the cooler and something catches your eye.
Back at your apartment, Chuuya’s still in the kitchen waiting for you. “There.” Knocking the jar down on the counter. “Basil.” Then more softly. “And this.” Setting down the tiramisu. His favourite. “And yeah, it’s prefab. You’ll just have to suck it up.” Hand resting on the plastic cover.
Placing his hand over yours. “It’s going to be delicious. Thank you.” Resting his forehead against yours. “I’m going to finish the sauce. Go change into something comfortable. Something more you.”
Looking down, you realize you’re still in your work clothes. When you had gotten home, you fell asleep before you could get the day off of you. “Yeah, I’ll go do that.” Shuffling off into your bedroom. Peeling off your uniform, you notice the grime and flecks of blood from all the dirty work they hand you before tossing it onto the hamper. In the bathroom, you wash your hands and face until you recognize yourself again. Some comfortable shorts and tank, you look in the mirror. There you are. Not mafia. Just Roan.
When you return, Chuuya is carefully plating your portion. Garnishing it and tucking some garlic bread on the side. “Dinner is served, my darling.”
Both of you lounged on either end of the couch, feet folded together under the blanket. This is how it should be. What would it be like? No mafia, just the two of you.
Noodles cooked to the right firmness, the meatballs are juicy, the garlic bread crisp. And that sauce, oh that sauce was so addictive and he knows it. Beaming as you hum like you’ve been living on bread and water your whole life and are experiencing your first real meal. “That’s what I want to hear.”
Nudging his shin with your foot.”Don’t get so full of yourself.” Did you forget who showed you your place in the sparring ring today?”
“You cheated. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
“That’s rich coming from the one who cheated first.” Pointing at him aggressively with a meatball.
“Don’t you point that thing at me.”
Leaning forward and emphasising your point. “Or what?”
Lounging forward, he bites the meatball off your fork before you can react. Quickly leaning back into his spot looking pleased with himself.
Jaw hanging open, “I can’t believe you did that. That was my meatball.”
“I made them, so technically they’re my meatballs. I’m just generously sharing. If you don’t like it, then next time maybe I won’t share.”
“Then I declare war on your tyranny."
Holding out one of his own meatballs. “How about a truce?”
Evaluating the meat ball and then eyeing him suspiciously. “I will accept your peace offering.” Leaning in, he feeds it to you. “You are forgiven.”
“Good, now shut up and eat your dinner.” He teases.
The rest of the meal is enjoyed in comfortable silence and stolen glances.
When you’re both so full you can hardly move, you turn to take the dishes to the sink, he places his hand on your arm. “Don’t you worry. I’ve got this.” With a thought, the dishes pick themselves up and float to the sink. “Impressed?”
Suppressing a smirk and holding your hand out, it takes a twist of your wrist to activate your panel and materialize a pair of plates. A pull and the tiramisu comes to the table. Polishing off the demonstration, your thumb and fingers snap together and the plastic dome vanishes into the void. Lifting your chin to look down on him.
“Show off.” Snickering. “But while you waste time pulling up that panel, I could crush you.”
“Only if you touch me first.” Gloating.
Reaching out and tapping your nose. “There. I win.”
Shaking your head, you cut him a slice and hand it to him. Then one for yourself. “Just you wait. I will have my revenge.”
“That’s what they all say.”
After dessert, he pulls you to him. Laying you down with your head on his chest. Immediately regretting it when your weight settles on his stomach. But he doesn’t push you away. Cupping your face and grazing your cheek with his thumb, gazing at the most precious thing in his life. “I never want to lose this feeling. This face is the last thing I see when I go to sleep and the first thing I see in the morning.”
A blush warms your cheeks. “I don’t want to lose this either.”
“What would you think if every day were like this?”
Imagining it, everyday, waking up next to him. Dragging him out of bed and sharing the first moments of the day together. Coming home and it being full of life. Cooking dinner, binge watching shows, cuddling on the couch. Falling asleep in each other's arms would be the last memory of each day. “Sounds perfect.”
“Then move in with me.”
Pushing yourself off his chest, you search for the lie or the punch line. “What?” But there’s no sign of either.
“I love you, Roan and I want to live that love with you.” Reaching up to gently hold your face. “Please.”
Falling into a kiss, it’s the only answer you can think of.
An answer he accepts, holding you closely and caressing your cheek and lacing his fingers into your hair.
Collapsing into his embrace, you lie back down with your head on his chest and he places a kiss at the top of your head. “So, what now?”
“Now? How about a movie? You pick.”
Picking out your favorite movie, you feel a new sense of peace. That after today, you’ll never fall asleep alone in the darkness again. That the burden you carry will be eased with someone else helping you carry it.
Holding you tighter as your body relaxes for the first time in ages, he holds you as you drift off to sleep. His own relief washed over him as well. Pulling a blanket over the both of you, he kisses the top of your head one last time. “Goodnight, darling.” Falling asleep with you in the flickering light and low sound from the tv.