Work Text:
Takahiro walked home from work every Friday night, his days getting longer and longer. His schedule was becoming less of a schedule, and more of a suggestion nowadays. Typically he got off around eight, but a glance at his phone told him it was closer to eleven. His walks home used to be enjoyable, watching the sun fall behind the buildings and trees. However, this late, all there was to look at was darkness, and he would admit it was kind of eerie. His walk home wasn’t particularly boring, per se, but it wasn’t entertaining of any sorts. He walked past a small bar every night, usually not very occupied, only a few customers here and there. Tonight, however, it was packed. Takahiro walked through a crowd of smokers standing outside, nearly coughing at the vapor that creeped into his lungs. Moving quickly, he had almost passed the bar completely when something made him pause. An all too familiar voice rung out over the chaos of the scene, barely decipherable. He attempted to brush it off, It couldn’t be him. As much as Takahiro wanted to continue walking and get home, his legs were betraying him. He marched right over to the entrance of the bar, and peered inside. Eyes adjusting to the light, he scanned the room inconspicuously. His gaze immediately settled on a curly-haired idiot with thick eyebrows.
Sitting at the bar, a very drunk Matsukawa Issei throws his head back in a laugh at something the waitress says. Takahiro frowns at his ex-boyfriend, making a fool of himself as usual. He steps into the doorway of the bar. He couldn’t help but feel some responsibility, even though they weren’t together anymore. He knew Issei could be a nuisance when drunk, as if he’s one to talk. They used to get into a lot of trouble when they drank together. Sloppy make out sessions in the alleyway and heavy petting on the dance floor got them banned on many occasions. He takes a weak couple of step towards the brunette, and taps him on the shoulder. Issei whips his head around, face looking shocked when he sees Takahiro standing in front of him.
“Takahiro, baby!” Issei yells over the music, smiling wide. Takahiro avoids his grabby hands and gives him a glare.
“You know him?” the waitress asks, clearly annoyed.
“Unfortunately.” Takahiro answers, rolling his eyes as he notices the other man pestering the bartender for another drink.
“Well, he needs to leave, he’s been causing us trouble.” the waitress speaks up again. Takahiro sighs at this but nods, turning away from her.
“Gettup you idiot. We gotta go, your dumbass is about to get kicked out.” Takahiro pokes at Issei’s shoulder, prompting him to stand. The brunette pouts and stands up too fast, almost toppling over. Takahiro grabs him by the waist, steadying him, and regrets it immediately. The feel of Issei’s waist at his fingertips makes him abruptly let go, ignoring the way that a single touch made his head spin. Issei cocks his head at Takahiro, staring him straight in the eyes, stupid goofy smile plastered on his face. Takahiro blatantly ignores him, turning to ask the bartender for a glass of water, knowing Issei will need it sooner or later. The pink-haired man yanks the other out the doorway without another word.
“I can’t believe you.” Takahiro says once they’re out on the sidewalk, “Drink this, now.”
Issei listens and takes the glass from him, chugging the water in one go. They sit on the cement, leaning up against the building.
“I’m gonna take you home, wanna tell me where you live?” Takahiro tries. Issei laughs at this, though there’s nothing comical about the question.
“I jus’ wanna go home.” Issei replies, completely ignoring the question.
“Yea, I got that asshole, but you gotta tell me where.” Takahiro tries again.
“You’re already here.” he slurs, confused. Takahiro tries not to take anything drunk Issei says to heart, but did he just imply that he was his home? He pushes the thought down forcibly.
“Issei, I need an address.” Takahiro says, grabbing the other’s phone. He searches his address book for one labeled Home and finds it easily, clicking on the address. He gapes at the screen, it was never changed. A whole year and he hadn’t even changed his home address in his phone from their shared apartment - now Takahiro’s apartment. His head falls into his hands, reminding himself to take a deep breath.
“Okay, looks like you’re staying over at mine then.” Takahiro stands up, pulling Issei up by the hand. This is not how he thought his Friday night would go.
Halfway to Takahiro’s house, Issei starts mumbling once again, slurring his words.
“Hirooo.” Matsukawa slurs slightly, dragging his feet.
“You aren’t allowed to call me that anymore.” Takahiro states flatly, heart wrenching at the nickname.
“Miss you s’much Hiro.” he says, completely ignoring his previous statement. Takahiro can feel the sadness in his voice, like he truly means it. He knows he shouldn’t, but he gives in, knowing Issei won’t remember much in the morning.
“I miss you too, Issei, more than you know.” he looks down at the sidewalk beneath them.
The moment they reach the apartment complex, it’s like Issei’s on autopilot. He knows exactly where to go, which step on the stairs to skip, and which door to open. Takahiro pulls out his keys and unlocks the door. They both step inside the familiar space, Takahiro subconsciously holding his breath. Ghosts of their past dance around the living room, reminding Takahiro of the memories they had made together. At one point in time they were perfect, and he couldn’t quite remember anymore why they had broken up.
He guides Issei to the bedroom, sitting him down on the fluffy comforter.
“You…can sleep in here, I guess.” Takahiro rationalizes that it’s only proper to give up his room for a guest, he reiterates to himself that this is the only reason. It had nothing to do with the fact that he missed the smell of Issei on his sheets. When the two separated, he didn’t wash them for months, overlooking the uncleanliness of the situation. When he finally mustered up the courage to throw them in the washer, he cried himself to sleep for three nights.
Takahiro threw Issei a pair of boxers, assuming he was wearing briefs under his jeans. Issei seemed to be over his stumbling a bit.
“Put those on, I am not dressing you.” Takahiro looks back at the drawer, giving Issei some privacy. He rummages through his t-shirt drawer, looking for a shirt to give him as well. Near the bottom, lies an old, faded, t-shirt with the words “World’s Best Grandpa” written on it in bold letters.
Takahiro hears a chuckle come from the aisle over, and peeks around the side. There’s a huge grin on Issei’s face, a large T-shirt occupying his hands.
“Hiro! Whaddya think?” Issei holds the shirt up for him to read the words. “World’s Best Grandpa” lies in the middle of the shirt, in huge letters. Takahiro laughs at his boyfriend’s broken sense of humor. He loves him for it.
“You better get it.” Takahiro grins at him.
Takahiro had known the shirt was there, he had kept it on purpose, unable to give up every piece of Issei. As the months after their breakup passed, he decided to stash it away instead of letting it mock him every day. As many times as he’s tried to rid himself of it, it always stayed put, keeping the bottom of his drawer decent company. He finally settled for a different shirt, yanking it out of the dresser. He turned around, so lost in thought that he almost had forgotten Issei was even there. Issei had taken off his shirt while Takahiro was turned around, his bare chest drawing Takahiro’s eyes in. Issei looked slightly more buff than before. Fuck, he curses under his breath, and tosses the shirt at the other man.
“Okay I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything I- uh well, you know where it’s at.” Takahiro turns quickly, attempting to leave the room before Issei can say anything else.
“Where’ya going, Hiro?” Issei pouts from behind him. Takahiro’s heart wrenches at the tone, it’s like the brunette had completely forgotten they had broken up while in his intoxicated state.
“I’m going to sleep on the couch.” Takahiro knows he’ll regret answering him.
“You’re not comin to bed?” Issei uses a whiny voice, shuffling over to him. Takahiro braces for impact, he couldn’t let him weasel his way back in, it was too much for him to handle.
“No, I’m going to the couch.” He turns to finally leave the room. A pair of arms wrap themselves loosely around Takahiro’s waist, and he melts into them too easily.
“Sleep with me.” Issei mumbles, head resting on Takahiro’s shoulder. His fingertips feel like fire on his waistline, and Takahiro’s body craves the warmth. The room is silent for a moment as they stand in the doorway. Takahiro lets his facade fall.
“Okay.” he says softly, giving Issei’s arm a squeeze. Issei lets his arms fall to his sides, and they step towards the bed. Takahiro pulls off his shirt and pants, tugging on more comfortable clothes. Issei climbs into the bed that was once his, lazily. Takahiro slips under the covers with ease, ignoring the internal voice telling him this is a bad idea. His back presses into Issei’s firm build, and he lets out a sigh of familiarity. Issei nuzzles his face fondly into Takahiro’s neck, as if they were a year younger again. Takahiro tries to convince himself into believing that Issei’s only acting like this because he’s intoxicated. But if he knows anything about the man, it’s that when he’s drunk, he’s fairly incapable of masking his emotions. Takahiro closes his eyes.
Light pours in from the window, effectively drenching the two in sunlight. Takahiro was always up with the sun, his internal clock meshing with the time of day easily. His eyes blink open, squinting at the change of brightness. His gaze focuses on the tan chest in front of him, slowly remembering the situation from the previous night. He wills himself back to sleep, wanting to savor the feeling longer than he should. He finds his thoughts begging him to get up from the bed, and begrudgingly decides to comply. He removes himself from the warmth that is Matsukawa Issei, being careful not to wake him. Issei’s arm twitches at the movement, but he stays asleep. Takahiro creeps towards the bedroom door, exiting the room swiftly.
Making his way towards the kitchen, Takahiro considers his situation, knowing they’ll need to talk about last night. He glances at the sink full of dirty dishes, and begins to tackle them before beginning breakfast. He made them each an omelet and toast, which just so happened to be Issei’s favorite - but that was besides the point. He plated the food and placed it down at the table before walking back to make them each a cup of coffee.
The aroma of coffee beans met Issei’s nose as he turned over in the bed, suddenly aware of the empty space next to him. He frowned, half-awake, and opened his eyes slowly. The sight he took in was all too familiar. He couldn’t remember completely how he had ended up in his ex-boyfriend’s apartment, in an empty bed, but he had a decent guess. Lifting the covers off of himself, he swung his legs around the side of the bed. He rubbed his face slightly with his hands, attempting to rid his brain of the fog clouding memories of the previous night. He stood up, head pounding, reminding him that he must’ve drank too much the night before. Shuffling out of the room, his eyes lay on Takahiro, busy carrying two cups of coffee to the table. Their eyes meet gently, understanding behind them.
“Morning.” Takahiro speaks first, continuing his trek to the table. Issei eyed the food and coffee properly before answering.
“I’m sorry.” he states, more meaning in the two words than he meant to convey.
“Don’t.” Takahiro stops him from elaborating. He takes his seat at the table, gesturing for Issei to do the same.
They ate their food in uncomfortable silence. Issei was the first to speak up, while clearing their plates.
“I, um- I hope I didn’t say anything too embarrassing last night. But, knowing myself, I probably did.” Issei rambles, eyes glancing up at the other nervously.
“Nothing too awful, though you did say you missed me.” Takahiro answers honestly, waiting for a response from the other man.
“Oh.” and it sounds like he’s going to end it there, but he continues talking, “Well, I do.” he finishes.
“Yea, I miss you too.” Takahiro gets up to move to the couch, “We should talk, I think.”
Issei walks into the living room, preparing himself for a conversation he knew was bound to happen sooner or later. He sinks down into the cushion, keeping his distance from Takahiro. Takahiro seems like he’s going to start again, but Issei stops him.
“Wait, let me say something first, please.” Issei looks more genuine than Takahiro thinks he ever has. He nods.
“I regret it. Everything. I was so fucking stupid, Hiro. I don’t know why I thought I could just turn around and leave without a second glance. I- I don’t want to do this without you anymore.” Issei pours his heart out into Takahiro’s hands, eyes slightly watering. Takahiro knows that Issei isn’t a crier, so he’s sure theres truth behind his words. He’s speechless, all the things he’s been waiting to say for an entire year, caught in his throat, unable to escape.
“Why say all this now?” Takahiro manages, finally, “Not to say I don’t feel the same.” Issei sighs and glances away from him, eyes looking anywhere but at him.
“I kissed someone, and I didn't feel anything.” he pauses, eyes refocusing on Takahiro’s face once again, “Hiro, I didn’t feel anything.” he states again, desperation underlining his words. Takahiro hides his face in his hands.
“I haven’t even tried.” Takahiro chokes out, and Issei has the nerve to look shocked.
“You haven’t been with anyone else since we…” Issei didn’t want to say it aloud, it all felt too final.
“No, asshole. And don't look so surprised, It's not like I'm the type to sleep around." Takahiro uses the insult to cover his obvious embarrassment.
"That's not what I meant.” He countered quickly, “I just mean…you could have anyone you wanted.”
"I wanted you." Takahiro looks up at him, eyes glossy. Issei reaches out to wrap his arms around the other, but stops short, in fear of overstepping an unspoken boundary. Takahiro tugs him the rest of the way forward, Issei’s arms habitually curling around the other. The two sat like this for a moment, holding each other.
“I’m sorry for the trouble last night, thank you for bringing me home.” Issei whispers absent-mindedly.
“I wouldn’t have just left you. What were you doing there alone?” Takahiro questions, curious.
“Tryna distract myself from thinking about you, if I’m being honest.” he replies, guiltily. It’s quiet for another minute, Takahiro processing his thoughts before speaking.
“Do you think we could make it work this time, if that’s something you wanted?” he can feel Issei’s heartbeat speed up.
“I know we could.” he half grins at that, and then, “I missed you. So much.” Issei presses his lips to the other’s neck in a small, but meaningful gesture.
———————
The light beams brightly into the room, falling onto the bed. Takahiro’s eyes open slowly, taking in his surroundings. His body is tangled with Issei’s, who’s breathing evenly as he sleeps. Takahiro smiles fondly at the man in his bed, pulling the covers up further over them. He can’t help but smile at the fact that his sheets smelled like Issei again.
“Y’know I still can’t believe you stole this from me.” Issei says, pinching at his oversized T-shirt he was pulling on.
“For the last time, I didn’t steal it, you left it here, and I just didn’t give it back. Those are two very different things, Iss.” Takahiro rolled his eyes playfully at his boyfriend.
“You stole it and you know it.” He points an accusing finger at him. “Don’t act all goody-two shoes all of the sudden, I know you.”
“Ohhhkay, babe, whatever you say.” Takahiro plants a quick kiss on his lips, grinning at him.
Takahiro’s life was once again overflowing with Matsukawa Issei.