Chapter Text
Yuuma was determined to get an early start on the day’s work, but first he had to untangle himself from rumpled sheets and a clinging, deeply sleeping aristocrat.
His plans tended to go awry whenever Shuu slept over.
Yuuma yawned and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, taking in the morning light for a moment before he decided to husk off the blankets. He nudged Shuu back over to his own side of the bed while he ticked off the day’s to do list in his head. Thin out the gentians and the sweet peas, tie in the roses that were starting to ramble. Trim the lavender and take cuttings of the sage. Earth up potatoes. Asparagus should be ready to harvest. Thin out the spinach and lettuces. Weed the garlic. Stake out bamboo canes for the runner beans. Weeding, weeding, and more weeding. Hang moth traps in the apple trees. New fly traps in the greenhouse. Pitch straw around the strawberries. And don’t forget the netting. The birds would start getting his strawberries if he didn’t get them covered soon.
May was a slow month for the garden, but he managed to keep himself busy.
Shuu clung to him defiantly when he shifted his weight towards the edge of the bed.
“Mmmmm,” he mumbled into the blankets he’d collected around him during the night.
“It’s hard to get up with you laying on me like this.” Yuuma looked over at Shuu. The light was catching his hair. It looked soft like cornsilk.
“I know.”
“Let go.”
“Nope.”
Yuuma pried himself out from under Shuu’s leg and shoved off his arm. The bed creaked ominously under them when he threw his legs over the edge to sit up.
“Shit, must have bent the frame,” Yuuma mumbled, raking a hand through his hair.
“See, it isn’t safe. Stay put.”
Shuu and the sheets clung to him as he tried to get up.
“Some of us have things to do today. We don’t keep servants here that do everything for us.”
“Your room would stay neater if you did.”
“Are you calling me a slob? That’s rich,” Yuuma grumbled. It was true that his room was a bit of a wreck at the moment, but there were extenuating circumstances. They’d been a little hasty to get into bed the night before. Clothes lay in a trail from the door to the bed, Yuuma’s flannel and frayed denim mingling with Shuu’s cashmere sweater and tailored pants.
They’d somehow managed to flip the couch in his room onto its back. Shirts were closer to the bed, generally the last things that they peeled off when they got into it. The nightstand had been clipped as well, with the lamp and his jar of sugar cubes knocked down to the floor and foil condom wrappers scattered like leaves across the carpet.
Yuuma stepped around the sweaters pooled on the floor and decided he would deal with the mess later. He went to the window and snapped the drapes open, letting the light in. He smirked when Shuu predictably groaned his annoyance.
“You can let yourself out after you find your clothes. Unless you plan on staying over again.” Yuuma rolled his shoulders and stretched his head back and forth, popping his neck.
“Don’t I get breakfast?”
“I guess I have time to make coffee.” Yuuma looked back at Shuu, who had reclaimed all the blankets that were on the bed, plus another he didn’t remember, and rolled himself into a burrito of laziness.
“Ugh. No thank you. Your coffee is terrifying. Was that sock even clean?”
Yuuma instinctively prickled. He’d learned to make coffee around a vagrant’s campfire when he was young, stewing the grounds in a pot of simmering water and then straining it through a cloth. It had been a rare luxury in a lean year. “If you don’t like the way I make it, do it yourself! And yes, it was a clean sock!”
He’d never bothered to learn any other way to make it. That was probably the reason why Ruki never let him make the coffee after dinner unless one of the Sakamakis was over.
He glared back towards the bed, daring Shuu to say more, but he didn’t take the bait this time. His only response was another lazy yawn.
Yuuma sighed and strode back towards the bed. He lifted the mattress up by the edge to send Shuu sliding off in his cocoon of blankets.
“Augh! What was that for?”
Yuuma feigned innocence. “I’m just looking for my shirt. I thought it might be under here somewhere. You wouldn’t remember what you did with it, did you?”
“Couch.” Shuu grumped.
Yuuma made his way across to the couch and heaved it back to its proper upright position. He scanned the floor around it. Tossed the cushions aside. He only found Shuu’s silky boxers, which he flung back over his shoulder onto the bed.
“Nothing. You didn’t hide it did you?”
“Maybe you ate it in the throws of passion.”
Yuuma clenched his jaw and stalked over to his closet to hunt for something to wear. He pushed past his uniform shirts to get to his collection of work shirts, which made up the bulk of his wardrobe. Far, far in the dark back corners were the clothes that Kou had insisted on buying for him once before he’d given up on making him over. They never saw the light of day. His closet was overfull to the point of bursting, bristling with flannel and chambray and denim and canvas in various states of wear. Most had frayed elbows, ripped seams. But he could never bring himself to throw things out that he was used to. It seemed like a waste.
“You could come out with me,” he said over his shoulder. He stepped into a fresh pair of shorts and then into the first pair of jeans with intact knees he came across.
“Nah.”
Glancing backwards, he saw Shuu was in bed again, laying on his stomach. Watching him bend over to put on his pants.
Yuuma frowned. He had that look in his eyes again, when they went unfocused and dull and he slouched more than usual. Shit. He was staring at his scars again. Yuuma quickly grabbed a tee and pulled it over his head, and then he threw him a proper look over his shoulder.
“See something you like, neet?” He stretched his arms over his head in a way that he knew would make his back muscles flex.
“Stop trying to seduce me, you pervert.” He said it in a voice just a bit lower than usual, with that slow little smile of his, pretending to examine his fingernails.
Yuuma was back at the bed in a flash, sitting on the edge with his hand on Shuu’s throat, tracing his jawline with his thumb. “Stop what? This?”
Shuu didn’t look away. He smirked and lifted up his chin. His eyes were soft and glossy, and bluer than anything.
Yuuma felt his palms chill with sweat.
“Come back to bed. Stay a while. Just… stay here,” Shuu purred. He snaked his hand around Yuuma’s waist. His hand lingered.
“I never get anything done when you’re here?”
“Oh? Am I distracting you?” Shuu’s hand snaked its way between his legs.
“Little bit,” Yuuma muffled into his hair. It was as soft as it looked, with a faint smell of expensive shampoo. “Goddammnit, you are the devil.”
He pushed Shuu down and shoved him back far enough to slide up alongside him. He settled on his side with his head resting on his arm.
“That’s only what I’ve always been. But you are too now, so that worked out well.”
“You know, I don’t remember you being such a pain in the ass. I don’t remember a lot, but I know you used to want to do things. You used to follow me around like a little dog. You wanted to do whatever I was doing. You wanted me to teach you how to climb a tree. How to shoot a gun.”
“You know what?” Shuu sat up to nuzzle in close to Yuuma’s ear. “I didn’t give a fuck. I just wanted to be around you. I would have said anything.”
Yuuma felt a flush come to his cheeks and found himself rendered suddenly inarticulate. “That’s … kind of cute…”
“Come here,” Shuu said, licking his lips.
He didn’t resist as Shuu pulled him down and over and began undoing his efforts at dressing himself.
It wouldn’t be so bad to spend the morning in bed. He was getting an awfully late start anyway. It wouldn’t be so bad to share his garden with the birds for just today. It wouldn’t be so bad to let the weeds grow just a little longer.
It wasn’t so bad when Shuu got his way. That’s probably why he let it happen so often.