"Get off of me!" A brunette boy pushed his lover away. "If you want any dinner, I suggest that you let me make it!"
The older one let himself be pushed back, brushing a lock of silver-colored hair from his face. "You haven't let me touch you all week. When is this going to let up, Misaki?"
"Oh what, you mean my freedom? My right to not have people groping me left and right every two seconds?" The boy stirred a pot full of stew grumpily. "I don't know, Usagi. Go ask your teddy bear."
"Suzuki can't speak…" The author mumbled.
A twinge of guilt hit Misaki in the chest for being so mean, but he didn't let up. He was still so peeved. He had such a hard day at work, it really wasn't his lover's fault for being on his last nerve. He just wished he'd get some peace and quiet while he cooked though… it seemed like making food was his only outlet for pent-up frustration these days.
Dinner was pretty awkward. They both sat in excruciating silence.
"Can you pass the pepper?"
Misaki sighed a bit and handed it to the older.
"Are you okay?" Akihiko Usami was good at reading Misaki, but he couldn't seem to get anything off of him right now. However, it didn't take much thinking to know the bottom line of things: Misaki was not in a good mood.
Misaki nodded slightly. "I'm fine. Just eat your food."
"I'm worried about you though. Something's clearly not-"
He was interrupted by the sound of Misaki's chair screeching against the hardwood floor. The brunette stood up from his seat and started walking toward his room. "Do you mind cleaning the dishes tonight?"
"...No, I don't mind."
"Thanks. I'm turning in early then. Good night." Misaki's angry feet pounded against every step of the stairs, until Usagi heard his door shut with a bang.
It worried the man to no end, but it didn't seem to be a situation that was safe to confront. At least, not yet.
The next morning's meal was just as awkward as the previous night's. In fact, Usagi didn't even ask Misaki to pass anything across the table. He just got it himself. Soon after, Misaki got up, asked his landlord to wash the dishes again, and left for work.
But when Misaki returned home from work, the author wasn't there. Often times around this hour, he would see his lover sitting on the couch. From that point, he'd get up and do one of two things: take Misaki's jacket for him and ask about his day, or hug him and begin to talk about his own. Neither of the two happened.
Two things presented themselves instead, in the form of emotions. Curiosity was the first to strike Misaki Takahashi, and the second, false relief. He forced a fake scoff, attempting to convince himself that he didn't care. "I'm glad that annoying Usagi-San's not here… he'd just bother me like usual."
Work had been tough again and all he was looking forward to was a nice long nap before it was time to prepare dinner. On the way to his room, the boy peered into Usagi's office, but found nothing. The computer was turned off, and a mess of papers was carelessly strung across the surface of the desk as usual.
The boy didn't think too much deeper into it. He still wondered where the older could be, but knew he'd be back by dinner. If not, he'd call or text.
No big deal, of course. It was just Usagi-San.
...Misaki's Usagi-San.
He fell into bed and buried his face in his pillow, just in time before that nasty little twinge of guilt could grow into some sort of monster. Soon, it would be desperately clawing its way out of the boy's chest. "I should've apologized this morning."
The words fell out onto the pillow case and presented themselves in front of him.
"Yes, you should have," they said.
-XXX-
When he woke up to a continuous beeping, Misaki's eyes shot open in horror. He sat up and slammed his hand down over the clock's alarm button to silence it.
Six-thirty AM.
"I slept through… to tomorrow?! What about dinner? Maybe Usagi thought I needed the sleep…" He sighed, feeling like he'd wasted his yesterday, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
The boy sauntered through the upstairs hallway slowly. He was preparing his apology speech for Usagi. Once he deemed it perfect (or at least, perfect enough) he took his stride a few paces faster and made his way to the kitchen.
But the esteemed author, Akihiko Usami, wasn't there.
Emerald-colored eyes widened slightly in confusion. He felt his worry ensue and his heart kick into overdrive.
He ran up the stairs and checked the office again, but it was still empty. The dark room was exactly the same as the night before, with every piece of clutter still neatly untouched.
"Oh! I know," Misaki muttered to himself, desperate relief quenching his nerves. "He must've forgotten to call and say he was coming home late last night, and then had a meeting at Marukawa with Aikawa, and Isaka, and whoever else, this morning… something like that."
With so many possible solutions, it had to be at least one of them.
Misaki threw on his jacket and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder before leaving for work, hoping to God that he'd see his lover there. He was out the door as fast as possible, not stopping to eat breakfast, or even to shower.
He needed to know where Usagi was, and he needed to know now.
The boy stepped off the elevator and walked into the room filled with rows upon rows of cubicles. There, the editors of Marukawa were working.
"Oh! Misaki."
The brunette heard Aikawa's voice and turned around. Perhaps she'd be with Usagi-
She wasn't.
"Good timing. Do you know where Usami is today? He won't answer his phone and I've already called him at least four times."
A cold sweat threatened to break through Misaki's skin. "...I haven't seen him since yesterday morning, actually. He's not with you? Are you sure he's not here for something? Like a meeting?"
She shook her head. "I've been around the whole literature department today. I think I'd have seen him at least once, and Isaka doesn't know where he is either."
Misaki could feel the relief drain his body to make way for a new wave of nervousness. At the same time, the guilt crawled up into his neck and sank its teeth into his windpipe.
All the boy was able to do on the outside was shake his head slightly and mutter, "...then I don't know."