Notes: Kinkmeme de-anon. The original request was: "Stable threesome relationship. Japan makes a good house wife."
It's Kiku who wakes up first; during the night, Mei and Alfred shifted around him until he is nearly buried under their weight. That isn't a problem with Mei, but Alfred is heavier and big, sprawling over him while reaching to drag him and Mei into his arms. He squirms free, tugging loose the knots of limbs around him until he can push his way out. As he escapes, Alfred frowns in his sleep and half pulls, half wriggles his way until Mei lies in Alfred's arms like a rag doll. It's so adorable he grabs his camera and carefully adjusts it until he manages to snap a picture. Finished, he pats the closest body part to him—Mei's ankle—and slides off the bed to make breakfast, stopping only to pull on his yukata.
It's another ten minutes before Alfred emerges from their bedroom, sleepy eyed and mussed hair. He pats the towheaded man's crown when he slings his arms around Kiku's waist and presses a kiss into the junction of Kiku's neck and shoulder. "Will eggs over rice be alright with you?" Kiku asks before checking the rice.
"Can I have sausages too?"
"They're in the bottom drawer, next to the deli ham."
Alfred nods, kisses him again, this time on the side of his neck, before pulling away to dig out his food. He joins Kiku at the stove, and they work in sleepy silence, comfortably bumping elbows each time one of them moves.
Breakfast is finally ready before Mei stumbles out of bed. Kiku sends Alfred over with her cup of morning coffee before joining at the table with their food. Mei smiles up at him while Alfred turns on the television to check the news. They settle into their morning conversation as they eat; Mei is going out to join her coworkers to work on their next project, while Alfred will be gone most of the day, rehearsing once he finishes his shift at the office. With his play's opening night only a week away, an electric buzz of energy takes over Alfred, especially after his second cup of coffee. He gestures wildly while he explains—for the third time—about the play and Mei listens enthusiastically while Kiku stealthily snatches the drink from the blond's hand before he splashes it everywhere. His eyes are shining as he talks, so Kiku cannot help but smile even as he tells the same story that he did only two days before.
They both rush off after breakfast; Alfred first, kissing them both before scrambling to catch his bus. Mei only stays a few more minutes before her ride arrives; she blows him a kiss as she hurries out the door. He washes their dishes and tidies up the living room before he collects his camera and equipment. He needs a few urban shots around the neighborhood before he feels ready to continue his next scene.
For the next few hours, he gets lost in his work, wandering around the streets, ducking into alleyways, gazing up at the sky to gauge the light, all in search of the perfect shots for his comic. Their neighbors are used to him now and a friendly newspaper vendor waves him over. They chat for a while about the vendor's—a very nice man, fresh from Vilnius, who is still grappling with English which Kiku empathizes with—morning when apparently his roommate decided to redecorate their apartment without telling him, diving straight for the power tools at the crack of dawn. They chat until Kiku gets a text from Mei inviting him to lunch. Saying goodbye to the vendor with a promise to send Alfred to pick up the evening paper, he takes a taxi over to meet her.
Mei is all smiles when he arrives at the café; she's already ordered for him, so he joins her and they talk. Her group had spent the morning coming up with ideas for their next fashion show and she is aglow with the same creative energy that had Alfred nearly dancing in his seat this morning. Looking across the table, he watches as she radiates joy about the designs she has in mind for jewelry and accessories she'll be making to go with the outfits, he can't help but smile and remember that this is why he adores his lovers. They are bright suns, shooting stars ricocheting off each other and him, dousing him with their effervescent love of life. He is drawn to them like the tide follows the moon—he loves imaginative people with big dreams, people who won't look at him like he's insane when he hits his writing or drawing groove at two in the morning and burns the night away until his hand cramps. Instead they bring him snacks and drinks, rub and soak his pained fingers back into life, and generally keep out of his way, even sending others away, while he works. And how many times has he done the same for them? Doling out pills for Mei when she tosses her work aside and lays her head down on her desk because her head aches too much to hold up any longer, or running a hot bath for Alfred when he returns home practically trembling in exhaustion and caffeine withdrawal.
His smile must be painfully obvious because she pauses in the middle of her spiel about using fake amethysts or sapphires for this ring she has in mind and reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. He squeezes back and soaks up the tenderness in her smile before she asks him about his day so far.
They don't chat for much longer—Mei gets a text message from her boss, calling her back to work. She says her goodbye before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He squeezes her hand one last time and watches her as she leaves, staying only until her perfume and that warm glow she produced vanishes in the noon sun. With a sigh, he tosses his trash away and heads home.
Their apartment is large—with the three of them working, they manage to afford a place big enough for each of them to have their own separate workplace. Kiku prefers to work in their bedroom, while Mei is set up in the corner of the kitchen, leaving Alfred to bop and flail across the open space in front of the large living room windows for reasons Kiku isn't entirely sure of. His desk is waiting for him when he comes home, tidy and organized to the most exact detail. The reason it's so neat is simple: Kiku hasn't drawn anything in three days. A massive creative block lodged itself cleanly between him and his muse and it is slowly driving Kiku crazy. On the upside, the apartment is spotless from the unrelenting cleaning frenzy Kiku inflicted on it as he tried to think of something to inspire him.
His problem is this: his main character's love interest is supposed to realize his love for the main character in this chapter, but swears he won't confess because the main character is still in love with his absent former lover. The trouble comes in when Kiku tries to figure out how exactly the love interest should have his epiphany in a way that won't prompt him to immediately confess his love.
He is stumped. He's never been in similar situation—when he fell in love, it grew so organically that he hardly realized he was in a relationship until he was kissing them. Even with Alfred and Mei, it was more like they double teamed him in a slow invasion and he just happily accepted. Love for him grew in unhurried, gentle steps, like toothbrushes joining his in the cup holder, or a warm cup of tea being placed at his elbow when he keeps sketching past midnight. Perhaps Alfred or Mei might be able to help, but he always feels clumsy and foolish asking such personal questions even if he doubts that they'd mind. Besides, they won't be home for awhile.
Today, when he sits down, he uploads his photos he's taken today and idly picks through them until he lands on the shot he took that morning, Alfred and Mei entangled and contently sleeping. They look so peaceful, so unlike the frenetic energy they emitted earlier when Alfred spoke of his play or Mei her designs.
Pausing, the memory of Alfred's manic grin and the delicate fluttering of Mei's hands as she talked etched firmly in his mind, he grabs a scrap of paper and draws his main character. Although the character is not nearly expressive as either his lovers—in fact, Kiku secretly based the design on his old friend Arthur, which sends Alfred into fits of giggles whenever the Englishman visits—but their brilliant vivaciousness shines in the character's eyes as he focuses on the drawing.
He pulls away to examine the image. The expression is slightly unusual on the character, but not so out of place to be jarring. The character is supposed to have strong convictions—like Alfred's dream of starring on Broadway, like Mei's dream of dazzling critics in Milan—and Kiku can instantly see how someone could fall in love with this person.
A scenario blooms in Kiku's mind—the love interest's faith falters for but a moment and the main character confides in him with his hidden charismatic side enough to reinvigorate this man, even as the main character mentions his old lover—and he exits the photo viewer to open up a new document.
Hours later, he completely misses Alfred's return or hears him come near before Alfred finds him typing furiously away, his hands blurring across the keyboard only to pause, backspace, and then blur again. Alfred leaves him with a smile to put a kettle for tea on. He greets Mei's very late return with silent "shh" and a kiss before pointing to the bedroom where Kiku is now scribbling a rough draft and story board. They share a knowing look and quietly go about making dinner, setting a plate of food next to Kiku with a reminder not to forget to eat. They quietly talk over dinner—fried chicken and baked potatoes since Alfred was the one to cook—before collecting their dishes and dumping them in the sink. Mei reheats Kiku's forgotten dinner before prodding him to eat more while Alfred does the dishes.
While Kiku keeps slogging through his draft, Mei and Alfred curl up on the couch before they both start to drift off. Since Kiku is busy, they hop in the shower without him. By the time they get out, Kiku has slowed down to tapping his keyboard every now and then while constantly rereading. Either he is getting tired or he's running out of artistic steam—either way, it's now safe to approach him without throwing him off.
"Babe? How's it going?" Alfred asks as he tosses his towel towards the laundry basket. When he misses and still tries to walk away, Mei affectionately kicks his ankle and points to the towel. Sheepishly, he put it away before prodding Kiku. "Kiku? Earth to Kiku, come in!"
"Mmm, I heard you."
Mei and Alfred shared a look; social interaction—a good sign indeed. "Still working, Kiku?" Mei tries, sliding over to his other side.
"Mostly finished. Needs revising—I'll call Lars tomorrow, see what he thinks."
"So, you done for the day?" Alfred asks, grinning in a way that makes Mei smirk. Oh, she recognizes that look. When Alfred's eyes flicker up to hers, he mirrors her smirk as she tosses her towel into the laundry basket as well.
"Yes," Kiku answers, still oblivious as he begins to shut down his computer. "I need to take a shower and then I'll join you-" He pauses as he turns around, seeing the twin leers as they stand before them in all their (naked) glory. Swallowing harshly, he glances between them. "Or I'll join you now and shower later."
"That's our Kiku," Mei coos before she drags him over to the bed with a lingering kiss. Alfred is close behind, tugging Kiku's shirt off while dotting his boyfriend's shoulders with kisses. Mei focuses on his belt while Kiku shudders from the attention he's receiving. He closes his eyes and just tries to breathe while Mei begins to mouth at his erection through his underwear and Alfred digs through the nightstand for lube. His dazzling stars are bathing him in their attention again, enveloping him in radiance while he basks in their touches and warmth.
If he murmurs "my stars" or other nonsensical endearments while Alfred and Mei clutch and move, then they only kiss and nip at Kiku in affection. They expect nothing less from their dearest writer.
