A few weeks passed, during which Hiroki and Nowaki worked hard on planning their wedding. Wedding invitations had been sent -literally- all over the world. Hiroki was already swamped with RSVP e-mails, phone calls, and letters, leaving him too exhausted to do much of anything else. Nowaki had set to work on booking the community center they had chosen- an easy feat with the help of Alrik and Katina's connections.
They decided on a date: May 16th. April was nearing its end already, much to Hiroki's and Nowaki's anxiety. Their stress was the cause of several spats, but the damage was never much more than a slammed door or an object swept off of a table. Nowaki's nervousness affected even him, effectively turning him into somewhat of a grump whenever it came to deciding things for the wedding.
On May 3rd, Hiroki's parents flew out to Sweden, both intrigued and impressed with Nowaki's request to formally ask for Hiroki's hand in marriage.
At first, Hiroki had been terribly embarrassed about the whole thing, but as Nowaki prepared himself for the occasion by buying himself a new suit and practicing in front of the mirror, Hiroki warmed up to the idea. Nowaki, by the time he heard that Hiroki's parents were on their way to their house, was a mess. He was rushing around the house in black dress pants with a black button-up shirt. His hair was combed back, making him look like some sort of mobster.
"Nowaki, I can't believe you're getting so worked up about this," Hiroki sighed as he perched on the edge of the bed with his legs crossed and his arms folded. Nowaki glanced up from his tie to look at Hiroki through the mirror on the opposite side of the room.
"Of course I'm getting worked up, Hiro-san," Nowaki said irritably, his brows furrowed. "I don't want to mess this up."
"Weren't you watching my parents on the live stream? They're a couple of idiots," Hiroki said dryly, watching Nowaki struggle with his tie. "There's no way you'll mess this up. My dad likes you, and I think my mom wants to get in your pants."
"All the more reason for me to do my best. They expect a lot from me, and since I haven't met them formally yet, this will be their first impression of me. And your mother does not want to get in my pants, Hiro-san. That's ridiculous."
"I'm not saying that you shouldn't do your best, I'm just saying that the more you get worked up, the more likely you are to mess up."
"I'm not worked up, I'm just a little- God damn this fucking tie!" Nowaki suddenly barked at the mirror, wrestling with his tie violently to tear it off.
"Nowaki," Hiroki said soothingly, getting to his feet and walked up to Nowaki. He forced him to turn around with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry," Nowaki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Hiroki calmly untied his best dark blue tie and worked to re-tie it neatly.
"I understand that you're stressed out," Hiroki said gently. "But, Nowaki, you're turning into me by having a panic attack about this whole thing. Don't freak out. You wanted this, remember? You'll do great."
"Okay," Nowaki said obediently, his hunched shoulder relaxing slightly. Hiroki finished tying Nowaki's tie and tightened it. He straightened it and brushed off Nowaki's shoulders and chest.
"Good. And take this down. Act natural. I don't want my parents thinking I'm getting married to some Yakuza boss," Hiroki said with a smile, reaching up to ruffle Nowaki's hair. The gel holding it back instantly crumbled, returning Nowaki's hair back to its tousled state.
"Seriously? I look Yakuza with my hair combed back?"
"Yes. I just had an epiphany: the reason you look so nice is because your hair is so messy," Hiroki said, grinning as he continued to fiddle with Nowaki's hair. Nowaki snickered a little.
"Hehe. Put your hands up, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, making finger guns and poking Hiroki in the stomach. Hiroki chortled and rolled his eyes.
"See? You're relaxing already. Just calm down. You're a giant compared to my parents. Even if they wanted to bite your head off, they can't even reach you," Hiroki coaxed.
"Okay," Nowaki said. He took a deep breath. "I feel much better."
Hiroki was about to say something more when the doorbell rang.
"Shit, shit!" Nowaki cursed, dashing out from underneath Hiroki's hands and sprinting into the kitchen. "You invite them in! I'll get lunch started!"
Hiroki sighed and walked calmly out of the bedroom and into the entrance hallway. He opened the front door, revealing Masanori and Tomoko.
"Oh, Hiro-chan! You've grown so much!" Tomoko cried, practically falling forward into Hiroki's arms.
"Mom…" Hiroki sighed exasperatedly, rolling his eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. Despite his annoyance, he smiled and hugged his mother back. He looked up at Masanori. "Hey, Dad."
Tomoko released Hiroki long enough for him to step forward and give his father a quick hug.
"Hello, son. It's great to see you again. Have you been working on your cooking?"
"Of course. A few weeks ago, I made Nowaki cinnamon rolls."
"My cinnamon rolls?"
"No, Dad, I made cinnamon rolls out of a can I found in a dumpster. Of course it was your recipe."
"Don't get lippy with me, boy."
"I'll get lippy with you if I want!"
Hiroki and Masanori playfully smacked each other's arms until it got out of hand and their fists reeled back to punch each other.
"So, did Nowaki like the cinnamon rolls?" Tomoko asked sweetly, taking Masanori's hand and lowering it. Masanori obediently allowed his fist to be lowered, and Hiroki lowered his, too.
"He loved them," Hiroki said, grinning proudly. "He said that no one ever made him cinnamon rolls from scratch before."
Tomoko frowned.
"Nowaki… he's an orphan, right?"
"Yeah."
"Poor child…" Tomoko murmured, glancing sadly at Masanori.
"No, no," Hiroki disagreed. "It doesn't affect Nowaki too much. He's very successful, and is very happy."
"I see," Tomoko said, smiling a little. "Well, that's good."
"Come with me, he's in the kitchen," Hiroki said, gesturing for his parents to go ahead in front of him. Hope I bought you enough time, Nowaki.
Hiroki herded Masanori and Tomoko into the kitchen, where Nowaki was standing behind the island counter as he diced carrots.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Kamijou!" Nowaki greeted cheerfully, glancing up as he continued dicing. Hiroki watched his fingers like a hawk, ready to spring into action if the knife slipped from Nowaki's hand. Nowaki didn't seem to notice, however, and diced the carrots faster and faster.
"Um… Mom, Dad… go ahead and sit down," Hiroki said, distracting his parents from Nowaki's intense chopping. As he sat them down at the barstools, he flicked his gaze at Nowaki in concern. Nowaki had a ghost of a smile on his face, but Hiroki could see that he was trembling like a leaf as he scraped chopped carrots to the side of the cutting board. Hiroki furrowed his eyebrows. "Nowaki, you want some help?"
"Um… no, I'm fine, but could you please get the onions from the fridge real quick?"
"Sure."
Hiroki went to the refrigerator and opened it as Nowaki picked up the cutting board and began dropping the carrots into the boiling pot of water on the stove.
"Ah!" Nowaki suddenly yelped, followed by a loud clatter. Hiroki jumped away from the refrigerator in a panic, slamming the door shut. Both Tomoko and Masanori had shot to their feet as Nowaki gripped his hand. Hiroki's eyes widened as he saw the kitchen knife lying on the floor next to a pile of chopped carrots.
"Oh my God, Nowaki!" Hiroki cried frantically, dashing to Nowaki and grabbing his wrists. "Nowaki! Nowaki!"
"Ah…" Nowaki grunted as he revealed his hand. On the back of it was a huge red burn mark on his skin. "The water splashed onto my hand when I dropped the carrots in."
Hiroki's hammering heart calmed as he took a deep, shaking breath.
"Are you okay, Nowaki?" Masanori asked with concern. Nowaki chuckled nervously.
"Ha… yeah, I'm fine."
"Come on, Nowaki. Let's get this cooled down," Hiroki said, squeezing Nowaki's wrist.
"But-"
Hiroki squeezed extra hard and stared at Nowaki warningly.
"Alright," Nowaki said immediately. He let Hiroki drag him out of the kitchen and to the living room, where they went down the hall to the bathroom. Hiroki kicked the door shut behind him and went to the sink. He turned on the faucet and waited for the water to get cold.
"Hiro-san, I-" Nowaki began.
"You need to calm. Down. Now," Hiroki hissed through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry, Hiro-san, I'm trying my best so your parents don't-" Nowaki started as Hiroki thrust his burned hand into the cold water.
"My parents? Who gives a fuck about that? I meant it for your own safety! What the fuck is wrong with you, swinging that knife around so fast?" Hiroki snarled. "Jesus, when I heard you cry out like that, I thought you had chopped a finger off!"
Hiroki fumed as Nowaki remained silent. Despite his anger, Hiroki was gentle as he cupped Nowaki's hand under the faucet, lightly brushing the scarlet burn mark with his thumbs.
"I-I'm really sorry. I assumed your dad was really into cooking since I saw him teaching you how to cook, so I thought I'd… you know, try to impress him."
"Damn it, Nowaki, I told you that you're over-thinking this! Do you even know me? You know that kind of stuff doesn't impress me, so why would it impress my parents? It's hard work that impresses me. It's dedication, heartfelt emotion, and… and devotion, Nowaki. Not how well you can chop a bunch of stupid carrots."
Hiroki shut off the faucet, but continued to hold Nowaki's hand. He turned his head towards his fiancé.
"Okay? Do you understand?"
Nowaki nodded, then looked away sheepishly. Hiroki turned fully to him, grabbing a nearby hand towel and holding Nowaki's hand up so he could gently dab it dry. Too embarrassed to look up at Nowaki, Hiroki kept his eyes down.
"And, Nowaki, it doesn't matter anyway. My parents have already approved of you. They love you. You're forgetting that this whole thing is for your own peace of mind, not theirs. They can't take marriage away from us. No matter how hard they try, they won't get this ring off of me," Hiroki said, shyly raising his left hand to show Nowaki his engagement ring. "And even if they could… we'd get married anyway, because… well… I love you. And frankly, I wouldn't give a flying rat's ass even if my parents found anything wrong with this marriage."
Hiroki looked up at Nowaki, whose face had contorted with emotion.
"They love you," Hiroki murmured. He tossed the hand towel aside and reached up to cup Nowaki's face in his hands. "And they're proud that I'm going to be a Kusama."
Hiroki brought Nowaki's face down so they could briefly kiss. Nowaki melted against Hiroki's lips, gratefully soaking in the reassuring kisses.
They pulled away after a moment, their foreheads still together and their lips still parted. Hiroki felt Nowaki's eyelashes brush his brow as his eyes opened.
"Um…" Nowaki said softly. "I… I thought that Fuyumi was the angel inside of you, but now I'm sure that the angel is definitely you."
Hiroki smiled widely, his eyes still closed as he tilted his head slightly. A tiny vein popped on his forehead.
"I'm going to gouge your eyes out, babe."
