It wasn't often he called, to be honest it wasn't often anybody called him, what was the point when messaging was so much easier and less effort? But he of course picked up after only a couple of rings anyway, not bothering to grab his earpiece and letting the slightly tinny sound of his best friend fill his quiet apartment, book lying open in his lap.
"Hey, you free today?"
"Yeah, got off work a couple hours ago, I thought you had a shift tonight?" He settled himself down, feeling a cool breeze from the open window filter over his face and a beam of sunlight warming his bare toes, wriggling them and considering it would be nice to make plans. It was starting to get warm already, summer determined to arrive early and a nice, sleepy sort of weather covering the island that made him want to laze around with a beer and do remarkably little else.
"Nah, got it off today, wanna come over?"
"Sure, or we could chill here? I've got beers."
"Well, if you're offering," he had been, of course he had and he said as much, but Kin dumped the plate he was carrying to the sink anyway, no point tidying up if nobody was going to see the state of the place. "I'll be over in like an hour, just got a couple things to do first."
"Alright, see you in a bit, loser."
"Bye, nerd."
He'd been very evasive with just why he hadn't been at work, but Tio put it down as not really being his business, letting him lie to his face about some remodelling when he'd passed the restaurant on the back from work and it had been as in business as it always was.
Maybe he'd just wanted a day off, maybe he was as exhausted as he looked under strobe lights, maybe he wanted to make the most of the nice weather with beers and the company of his friend. Tio didn't know, and for a couple more nights he didn't make it his business to know, because he'd stuck his nose in where it wasn't welcome in the past and it had never ended well for either party.
"You're not at work again."
"No, I'm not." He looked uncomfortable, leaning over the vegetables he'd been examining, picking out another couple of potatoes and moving on to examine the leeks, not making eye contact and staring intently at cabbage as if they both didn't know he hated it. He obviously hadn't intended for anybody to see him, it was just unlucky for him that Yuu had led Tio on a wild goose chase for an important note he'd lost then discovered had been in his pocket all along, ending up a fair walk from home near a small grocery store he'd never been in before. Well, that wasn't the issue, if Tio hadn't been ridiculously thirsty after running all over the island for a good hour and hadn't decided to go to the store for a drink, there wouldn't be a problem. But thirsty he had been, and he wasn't exactly going to ignore his best friend if he chanced upon him in an unexpected setting, having only realised his reluctance to be seen after he gained his attention with a meaningless insult.
"How come?"
"I told you, they're remodelling," he straightened up then, glancing at the list in his hand and turning into the next aisle, Tio following doggedly, watching him load his basket with cheap energy drinks and instant noodle cups and little else of actual nutrition.
"I walked past earlier, they're not remodelling, Kin. What happened? Did you get fired?"
"No, why would I get fired?" He looked offended for approximately two seconds, then a large sigh and the incline of his head that says he's given in, putting back the random item he'd pretended to peruse. "I just... Got suspended, that's it."
"Again? What are you meant to have done now?" His indignation is so loud that if there'd been anybody else in the poorly lit store, they'd undoubtedly be staring, but as it is the cashier doesn't so much as bat an eyelid, seemingly napping behind a large newspaper.
"Well my managers got a list, of my 'indiscretions', I think that's what she called it. So I spilled soup on that guy in February, then in April I dropped a load of plates and broke them, apparently that was strike two of three, not that she bothered to tell me. Then I was like five minutes late the other week and she just told me to get out and not come back until I'm a competent employee and not a useless mess."
"She used those words?" Kin nodded, raising his eyebrows as if he only found it mildly upsetting to have his character destroyed like that when Tio could see that uncertainty in his posture again, the self-consciousness that perhaps she was right. "Bitch. So why were you late?"
"The hospital called me, said it was an emergency, mum had a fit or something, they don't really know what. So I ran there to see what was going on, then ran to work and still got suspended. Whatever, it's their loss."
"But that means you lost your wage, how long til you're allowed back?"
"Two weeks. I'm fine, I've still got that bonus Mizuki gave me. I had a feeling something like this might happen so I didn't spend much of it." He seemed to be done with his shopping then, pausing to regard a tall display of gum, hiding a grin as Tio went around the other way and disappeared behind the tall rack, only the tiniest bit of curly hair visible.
"So you're managing?"
"Yeah, I'm good, mum. Quit worrying."
"How long is that food meant to last you?" Kin's eyes narrowed and they both knew what the others game was, standing opposite each other, in front of the till and both refusing to budge, waiting to see whose pride would dim first.
"A week."
"A week?! A cup ramen a day and some vegetables? You're actually a useless mess if you think that's okay, how the hell do you plan to live on that?" He looked like he was about to object but Tio had disappeared back into the aisles and all Kin could do was blink along with the cashier, finally roused from his slumber and seemingly not enjoying the ruckus they were causing.
Even as his items were scanned with a significant lack of pep, he could hear Tio muttering darkly, actively scooting away as he was finally paid up and he emerged at the till with a basket of his own. He put it down with more than necessary force and he looked so damned irritated that the elderly man scanning them just kept his head down, proffering bags over and watching them leave with a raised eyebrow and a mutter about youngsters and lack of respect.
They walked in silence for quite a while, towards both of their apartments, though Kin was leading the way, assuming if Tio planned on going elsewhere he'd be perfectly capable of doing so. Tio was quietly fuming, face still tense with irritation Kin wasn't entirely sure how he'd caused, speaking up in a calm tone, "what was that?"
"That was me making sure you don't starve, here," the bag was thrust into his chest so abruptly he almost squawked, managing to take it before its contents fell to the ground and rendered this exercise in generosity utterly useless. "Go home and cook something decent. And get an early night! You look exhausted."
He glances down at the bag in his arms, he can see eggs, bread, what looks like a bag of rice, meat of some kind, maybe even fish tucked into the bottom, "you're not going to let me refuse this, are you?"
"Absolutely not!"
They'd stopped in the street so Kin could adjust his hold on the bags, but with the end of Tio's almost angry speech he'd frozen in place, blinking at him with the dumbest expression he'd probably ever worn. Tio was worried about him, and he often had been before but now he was actually proactively concerned about him, was spending his own money making sure he ate right, was complaining about his sleep schedule, lecturing him like a parent.
All he could think was that it was really fucking cute, biting his lip to hide a smile as they continued their lazy routes home.
"You know, nobody's ever cared enough to passive-aggressively buy me groceries before."
"Is that so?" His voice was a little hard but Kin could identify embarrassment easily, and he was at the perfect height to see the redness of his ears, nudging into his side and reassured as he lightly jostled him back.
"Mm-hm."
"Yeah, well, somebody's got to look after you. Might as well be me."
After just under a week staying at his place, alternating between hiding in bed and being deeply objectionable, Sly leaves early one morning, stating he's going to see his Granny, and he doesn't come back. Mizuki doesn't really worry, with his Granny might be just where he needs to be, and he at least knows he'll be safe and well fed there, sending him a picture just once of Amaya pawing at the door accompanied with the caption 'she misses you.'
So when he gets in from another visit to Beni-Shigure, he's surprised to find Sly on the balcony, curled up across two of his wooden chairs, cushions stolen from the couch under both his feet and his ass, there's a cigarette in his hand and an empty mug with a brown stained rim on the table. His arms are bare except the bandages stretched up his left forearm, neatly tucked into place and still pristinely, reassuringly white, arm resting on weather-worn wood, afternoon sunlight beaming down on him and warming Mizuki the second he steps outside, "hey, what you doing?"
"It's warm out."
That wasn't exactly an answer, but he let it slide, conceding that he was right and inclining his head into the breeze, noting then the budding of the ever neglected plant huddled in the corner of his balcony, a moving in gift he should have cared for better. Luckily though it was hardy as its company, and managed, magically, to bloom every late spring without the help of water, shears or anything else it may need.
"Want a beer? Or some company?"
"Sure," an answer to both and he's even graced with a look that might be considered warm, tepid at least, relaxing back into the seat and closing his eyes, listening with a distinct lack of paranoia to the soft noises of the street beyond, the fridge shutting in the kitchen, footsteps approaching.
Condensation trickles down the bottle he's handed and he gives up his footrest only reluctantly, bartender occupying the space he'd been in easily and far more fully than he ever could, taking a cigarette from the pack to join him.
It's quiet for a good ten minutes, Amaya comes slinking out, regarding the balcony as if she's never been there before, hissing at the potted plant as if it's that which is the enemy, jumping into Sly's lap and not shifting even as a few droplets of ice cold linger on his hand as he strokes her flank. She's purring and that, along with the sound of birds cawing on their journey to the ocean, and the sound of people passing by down below is the perfect soundtrack to the afternoon.
Sly is comfortable, rather too comfortable for Mizuki's liking, complaining weakly the minute a pair of feet is unceremoniously, yet somehow considerately, dumped in his lap, wriggling around to get comfortable as if they'll be staying.
"What are you doing?"
"Putting my feet up, do you mind?" The arrogance in his voice is entirely for show and his expression is too gently amused for either of them to believe the question is meant to be barbed. He likes this side of Sly, the bartender decides, the part that is cheeky, childish, that is a little cocky without being genuinely irritating.
"Not as much as I should." Sly doesn't respond, he doesn't need to when the answer was so damned obvious, leaning back into his seat, head resting against the high back and pale expanse of his neck exposed to the yellow air. Silence prevails again, though today nobody is trying to battle against it, Amaya perfectly happy to lazily doze in their pool of sunshine, Mizuki sipping his beer and glad of more in the fridge a few quick steps away.
Smoke sways and fades into the air and when Sly offers over another Mizuki refuses, hands falling into his lap, eyes finding a pair of feet he can't claim to have ever had much interest in before but which he deems are remarkably acceptable. They're feet that have been used, soles rough and sturdy from years of being tremendously active in ways most people wouldn't even dream of, there's a couple of moles on them, one right at the juncture between his big and first toe, and a smattering across the left ankle. They're unnervingly endearing.
They're okay, for feet, and Sly makes a curious humming noise when he cautiously slides his hand from ankle to arch, thumb absently rubbing circles into the tender flesh where his foot dips underneath, doing something that could be labelled a massage if Mizuki actually knew what he was doing.
But Sly lets him continue and even wriggles his toes in disapproval when he pauses to drain his beer, his pinkie toe is so small it's almost like a pea and for feet, Mizuki decides he's remarkably fond of these ones.
"Are you seriously rubbing my feet right now?"
"Just one of them, I'd struggle doing both at once," Sly's eyes are still shut, head tilted back and he must assume Mizuki is looking elsewhere because he smiles and it's genuine and soft and everything he normally keeps hidden, cracking one yellow orb to regard him and expression somehow only getting bolder.
"Keep going then, asshole, you can't only do one." Mizuki just smiles back, watching pale fingers on slowly rising and falling ginger fur, feels the sun on his face and feels like he could stay exactly where he is right now, forever.
Cut to three hours later and Mizuki is ducking to avoid a plate because he said something wrong and Sly didn't appreciate it.
Small steps, he tells himself as his bedroom door slams with him on the wrong side of it. Small steps.
Things always seem to run either too slowly, or too fast for Mizuki, swearing in his mind he'd been waking up shivering only days ago and waking utterly disoriented at 3am to discover he's sweating and Sly is slumbering next to him above the sheets and utterly naked. His skin is covered in the faintest sheen of sweat, almost sticky in texture and utterly unpleasant as he splays out across the bed as if trying to keep his trunk as cool as possible by ensuring his limbs are nowhere near.
He would have sworn a couple of weeks ago at most he'd pulled up the blinds at the end of the hallway to blinding snow, not sunshine that fills the apartment with soft yellow light instead of the white he's gotten used to over the cold months of winter.
But time is never very linear for him and suddenly they are five months into the year and both his own and Sly's birthdays have passed without ceremony in a rush of more important things to deal with. Suddenly, almost shockingly so, it is May and summer is approaching and when he goes to see Koujaku the doctors tell him it looks increasingly hopeful though he could swear he was rescued only a week or so ago.
He tries to explain this to Sly one night, when he's being remarkably reasonable and has even allowed Mizuki to choose the movie they watch, provided, of course, it has sex, blood and no romance whatsoever. He tears his eyes away from the strategically chosen flick, raises a single thin eyebrow and remarks with crushing obviousness that he almost never knows what year it is, let alone notices the passing of seasons.
Except, he concedes quietly, winters haven't been as cold since you gave me that old sleeping bag.
It's the closest to gratitude Mizuki will get, and he reasons that the seasons will go on changing whether either of them notice or not. It is reassuring, he thinks, that things continue moving even when he feels stationary, poking at Sly with his foot until he is all snapping in false anger and fighting him off even as he knows it will turn into kisses soon enough.
So things go by nicely and that Sly has been there for more than his agreed week isn't mentioned for fear of Mizuki losing his last two undamaged mugs.
Summer is approaching with full force, slamming into him as a humid, sticky breeze as he opens his apartment door and the coolness of several ever-blaring fans is utterly drowned out by the blazing sun. Almost June he supposes, and it really is far too late in the year to wear a hoodie, dumping it on the couch and pushing earbuds in further, tucking his keys and wallet into his knee-length jeans and knowing Mizuki will mock him for them like he does every year.
Out into the streets and there are kids screaming as they run down the burning tarmac, women looking hot and bothered and some already growing impressively brown as they spend their whole lives outdoors. The ice-cream parlour, really the only seasonal business on the island, has a queue out the door and when he glances in the window he sees staff decked out in penguin aprons and looking slightly harassed.
He's glad it will have gotten a little cooler by the time he's left Kin's to go to the bar for the night shift, it will still be clammy and he doesn't doubt that, but he is eternally grateful for the summer two years ago when Mizuki shelled out for air-con after a customer fainted from heat stroke in the middle of her evening. In a weird way that makes him grateful to her for passing out, which is an unusual thought the heat of the day rapidly pushes out of his mind, wiping sweat off his forehead and slowing his pace a little, Kin can wait, it's too hot to do anything but lazily meander his way through town and towards his apartment building.
But the effect of the pleasant summer air faded as he got closer and he could sense that something was wrong, hesitating for a moment near a too-familiar trash chute to regard the person Kin was clearly speaking to, stood in the hallway outside his apartment. He recognised him as a member of the Yakuza, but one of the nicer ones, seeing it more as a neighbourhood watch kind of thing than anything else, knowing there was nothing to worry about until Kin shifted and he could see him.
He looked distressed, or panicked might be a more appropriate word, adjusting his weight from foot to foot and hair messy, running a hand down his face and just nodding distantly as Reiko spoke to him, voice low and soothing even from a distance. But he kept on speaking and Kin snapped at him suddenly, looking guilty the second he registered the angry pose of his body and the way his hands had raised aggressively, biting at his lip and just waving off the hand on his arm, sending him away after one last exchange of words.
But Tio had watched in silence for long enough and he didn't know quite what was happening beyond that something bad must have happened, Kin's noise of frustration and the sudden sight of wooden shards in the hallway steeling his resolve to find out what was wrong. He'd caught his breath by now but his chest still felt a little tight as he wandered down the hallway towards him, other not noticing even as his keys finally made their escape from his too-small pocket and clattered to the ground.
He still hasn't noticed him by the time he's able to reach out and poke at his elbow, large form turning to regard him with initial annoyance that rapidly falters into recognition then alarm as he stares at his coil incredulously and it's the first time Tio's realised what an old, clunky model it is.
"Shit, as if it's two already. Fuck."
But the recipient of these alarmed words was too much distracted staring in abject horror at what remained of his front door, wood hanging off one hinge and a large part of it completely shredded into the hallway and the room beyond. The apartment looked as it always did behind him but there had to be something wrong for his door to be so beaten down, scanning him immediately for signs that suggested there may have been some kind of fight, Kin waving off his concerned gaze.
"Oh don't worry, I'm fine, bastard was already gone by the time I got home."
"What happened?" He ignored the bitterness in his voice, the clear unspoken statement that he wished he'd been home to give the intruder a piece of his mind, anger infecting his tone as his jaw set hard.
"I went out last night with a few of the guys, figured I may as well, I got that pay rise after all and I had some money left over this week. Thought it might be nice to have some fun, a few drinks. I got pretty drunk so I crashed at Michi's place, only got back about an hour ago." He was explaining plainly enough but he was speaking like he'd been foolish to dare leave his apartment for even one night of fun, clearly regretting his decision already and blaming himself for whatever had occurred. "I mean, you can see my door, so I checked nobody was here first, then started to see what was missing."
He'd moved as he spoke, stepping neatly around his broken down door and into the apartment beyond, Tio unable to see anything wrong, TV still neatly on its stand and nothing destroyed or moved at all, frowning as he turned to see Kin with a long wire in his hand. "They stole my laptop. Nothing else, just that. They didn't even take the damn charger. Well they'll be lucky trying to sell that, the battery only holds charge for twenty minutes and it's such an old model they'll have a great time finding a charger for it."
He threw the lead away from himself and for all his brave words Tio could see how much he was freaking out, his hair was a mess and his lips were downturned in a way he didn't like, sighing exasperatedly and turning angry at the last second, hands still buried in his hair but a foot coming to kick at his couch so hard it slid across the fake wood flooring with a screech.
"Hey, hey, calm down, we can fix this."
"How? How exactly can this," here he gestured at his door, at the flakes of cheap material that spread into his apartment, at the lock that had been knocked off the wall, "be fixed? How am I supposed to do anything with no door? How am I even meant to get a new door? We've got work in like three hours, what, the fuck, can we fix in three hours?"
Tio just stares at him during this rant, letting him get it all out and aware it's not really him he's angry at, nodding along with him sympathetically and supposing if this had happened to him, that he'd have reacted much the same. He doesn't bother to answer any of his questions though, just unlocks his coil and speaks even as he does, "I'm texting Mizuki to say you can't come to work."
"You can do that?"
"Of course, I'm your boss too, remember?" Kin just shrugged and went back to staring in annoyance at where his laptop had once lay, Tio writing a quick message and sending it off, hiding the truth at first again but knowing this isn't something shameful he needs to hide, telling him when he asks for details.
'Can Kin get a paid absence tonight? Something happened and he can't work. Also I might be late. Sorry.' Mizuki replies almost instantly and he's grateful for that, he gets the feeling Kin wouldn't do well with having to wait for a response, sinking onto his couch and burying his head in his hands, the very picture of overwhelmed.
'It's fine, I can get someone to cover him. Is he hurt?'
'No, he's fine, something else happened.'
'Something to do with the money problem?'
'Not really, he got broken into.'
'Ah shit, that sucks, let me know if he needs anything, and don't worry about being late.'
'Will do, thanks.'
"He says it's fine, and," he pauses then, scrolling through his contacts until he finds the name he's looking for, an old member of Dry Juice and one of the originals, really hoping he'll be free. "I know a handyman, of sorts, who should be able to get you a new door, or at least do a quick fix on this one until you can get something proper sorted out. I'll give him a quick call, see what he can do, alright?"
He ducks out into the hallway to make the call, Daisuke picks up after a few rings with a friendly greeting and the remark that it's been a while, making Tio's gut coil with guilt as he admits that it isn't a social call. But truthful to his forgiving nature, the other just hums apologetically when he explains the situation, says he broke his leg falling off a ladder and as Tio's heart sinks, calls out to his female companion, and just like that, the problem is solved.
"Daisuke's got a broken leg so he can't come, but his girlfriend Akane can do it, she'll be over in about half an hour to check it out, then she knows some… I dunno, place, where she can get a door and a new lock for you." Where she'd be finding a door he had no idea, especially not at such late notice, but he didn't question her methods and knew very well that with the right connections, you could get your hands on almost anything the island had to offer.
Having done all he can to help, which he feels is pitifully little, he begins collecting the fragments of cheap wood that have scattered across Kin's apartment floor, picking them up carefully to avoid splinters and ditching them into a trash can that for once holds actual food waste rather than just empty cans and noodle packaging.
Kin watched silently for a minute, presumably gathering himself, standing and in one smooth, somewhat surprising movement, yanks the door off its remaining hinge, neatly leaning it against the wall. He stares at it for a good five minutes, expression so worryingly blank that Tio puts a hand on his arm and quietly says his name, breaking him out of whatever thoughts had trapped him.
"We can fix this, okay? I'm gunna help you fix this." That earns him a smile and a ruffle of his hair he doesn't really appreciate but knows at least means Kin is grateful, withering a little under his insanely fond smile.
"What did I do to deserve you, huh? You're a total lifesaver."
"It's fine, and… I know this won't help, but try to relax, okay? At least they only took one thing."
"I know, I know, but it has all my stuff on it, my music. My photos. Shit, my photos." Any calm he might have gathered rapidly seeps away and sheer panic overwhelms him again, pacing through the tiny space as if that will bring the answers he needs. "Fuck, I can't afford a new laptop! I can't even afford a shitty ancient one again. God, everything goes wrong at once and I'm still suspended from the stupid fucking restaurant!"
He's working himself up again and Tio has the feeling his battered couch might not take another kick, leaving the mess on the floor and putting hands on his shoulders instead, forcing him to meet his gaze and snap out of himself. "Hey, hey, relax, alright, freaking out isn't going to help. Come on, sit down, things'll work themselves out."
He listens to him for once, and he has the feeling the hand rubbing firm circles into his shoulder helps a lot, his friend sinking back into worn material and shutting his eyes, exhaling and rubbing a hand down his face. "Sorry, you're right, I'll be fine."
Akane arrives halfway through their mugs of instant coffee with a cheery grin and a soft bag that clanks when she sets its down, she's all well-meaning comments and remarks of what a shitty situation it is, and when she says she's sorry it happened, they both believe her. She does a few measurements, gets distracted as Tio notices a ring on her left hand and reflects again on how out of touch with old friends he is, smiles reassuringly and claps Kin on the back so hard he almost stumbles, then darts off to retrieve a door from her mystery supplier.
She refuses help carrying the door, lugging it into the apartment as if it doesn't look heavy, and while she isn't the smallest woman they've ever seen, she must have hidden muscle mass to manage so well. She's entertaining, keeping up a running commentary as she works, stripping plastic off the sturdy door she's gotten, remarks that if somebody tries to put their foot through this one, they'll be off to hospital either with the door still attached, or with several shattered bones. Funny too, she makes an alarmingly dirty joke when one screw just isn't going into the hole, asking for lube with a waggle of her eyebrows that has Kin choking on his coffee with laughter and Tio's lip twitching as she only continues to remark with a secretive wink that they've probably used it all.
Her jibes are well meaning though and Tio can practically see Kin unwind as her chatter fills the room, though that could be just due to the fact that now he's getting a new door and can leave his apartment again. Besides, Tio thinks but doesn't voice, now he's been broken into one it's very unlikely to happen again.
She's an efficient worker, demanding one of them be her official assistant and hand over tools as she asks, describing them while Tio roots through the bag looking for items he's never heard of. The door is securely attached by the time Tio has to leave for work and she tentatively shuts it, bolt sliding into place and crossing her fingers as Kin unlocks it from outside, remarking quietly that if the lock doesn't work she'll have to take it off its hinges and the problem won't remotely be solved.
But it unlocks and Kin re-enters his apartment looking relieved, mentions payment as she packs away her tools and balks as she waves him off, turning to Tio and saying the only payment she'll accept is a catch up with her and Daisuke at his expense. He agrees and it's only when they've both left that he asks how much she really wants, conceding with a smile that she hadn't wanted to take money off somebody who just got robbed and clearly isn't too well off. Not to mention that Tio had specified for her to get the sturdiest door she could, price not a factor, transferring the money she'd asked for, certainly less than it should be but still more than Kin would be happy about.
They part with a promise to catch up and a date a couple of weeks later, and she's whistling as she carries damaged MDF through the streets to give it to a friend of hers who apparently has some use for it.
The only issue now is how Kin is meant to get another computer, and a distant sense of discomfort in the back of Tio's head at how bothered he'd been to realise he'd lost his photographs, thinking there's nothing he can do about that even as he feels awful about the whole situation.
He's done all he can to help, he supposes, and really, the sincere thank you Kin had given him shows how much his efforts were appreciated.
Sly is softer after he returns from his Granny's, there's that familiar smell of baking on his clothing, settled deep into his skin, and the smell of sugar seems to have encouraged him to act sweeter too. His depression seems to have lifted a little, and other than occasional pained looks, his demeanour is mainly the same as always, if not tamped down somewhat, snapping remarks rendered pretty much useless as he makes no move to follow through. He's even weirdly tactile, for him at least, complaining loudly about how annoying it is that Mizuki takes up the whole of the couch before flopping almost onto him and whinging the whole time as if he can hide his desire to be close with false irritation.
He's taken to asking questions by poking or prodding at Mizuki with one body part or another til he answers, favourably his head, nudging at the bartenders shoulder or back repeatedly until he drops whatever he's doing to answer or pay attention to him.
He also begins going to bed when the bartender does and it's almost like they have a routine, they even brush their teeth together which is so domestic and cute that it's all Mizuki can do to not smile and give himself away. So they get ready for bed together and change into pyjamas or whatever clothes Sly has stolen from him and deemed acceptable to sleep in, and slip into bed and it's awkward every night but somehow Mizuki prefers it to his bed mate waiting til he's asleep to join him.
He asks if he has work tomorrow and when, Mizuki answers and shares some details, asks for requests if he's going grocery shopping and makes a note on his coil, then Sly hums in acknowledgment, lights a cigarette as Mizuki settles down and returns his good night.
It's a little weird, but it's fine, and it shows Sly's willingness to at least try and make this a normal thing, to admit this isn't just a friend crashing over, to allow the suggestion that perhaps this is morphing into an actual relationship.
Sly wakes during the night a lot too, Mizuki isn't sure if it's because he isn't used to having a routine or an actual bed, or if it's just a quirk of his, a hint of insomnia he doesn't feel it worthy to mention in his waking hours. But often he rolls over and even in his mostly asleep state he registers that Sly isn't there, or he can smell smoke, or there's adjustment of the sheets and he rouses for long enough to see him sitting up or slipping out of the room.
He never bothers to follow or mention it, Sly is always back beside him when he wakes up, hissing at his alarm and snapping half-heartedly at the hand that bids him good morning by burying into his hair or, a particular favourite, bopping his nose. Mizuki is blessed with being a naturally deep sleeper, and it's very rare he wakes when Sly does, often not even noticing he's been elsewhere until he wakes and there's more ash in the tray than the night before, or his trainers have moved across the room.
So, as usual, he hadn't woken when the other had, nor had a noise or anything else unnatural woken him, when his eyes roused into lazy consciousness he couldn't feel any cool drafts from where the covers may have shifted, he had, in all probability, woken up entirely coincidentally. He wasn't much prepared to stay awake though, still pleasantly under the thick veil of deep sleep and rolling onto his side with the intention of nestling into his pillow and returning to blissful nothingness.
But a solid lump met his eyes and it wasn't just a head, blinking blearily upwards to take in Sly's form, just a dark mass against the dimness of his bedroom, able to make out that he was sitting up against the headboard with his knees tucked under his chin.
He wasn't smoking as would make sense, or anything else, indeed he seemed to be sat there entirely still and unmoving, blinking regularly and eyes gazing into the dark distance blankly, no sign of tears or distress anywhere in his form.
He went to speak but his half asleep body decided to give his bed-mate a warning first, exhaling long and deep through his nose, voice thick and woozy even as he spoke slurring words of concern, "Sly? Whas wrong?"
"I dreamt I was drowning."
He shifted then, forcing himself into wakefulness, rubbing at his eyes and blinking them wide open, forcing the faint light in and adjusting himself so he could see the other better, yawning thick and so deep his hearing seemed to cut out. "A nightmare?"
"No." He could see him shake his head, blue hair waving around the jagged features he could make out, not moving closer or doing anything that implied he needed comfort, voice softer than he'd ever heard it before, speaking in the gentlest of whispers. " It was really peaceful."
"Do you think it's because of-"
He didn't let him finish, answering too fast and the first hint of discomfort seeping into his voice, Mizuki not sure if he regretted bringing it up yet, knowing it had clearly bothered him but also sure it needed to be spoken about. Burying things that hurt just made them worse, he'd learnt that with Yasu and he wouldn't let Sly do it with his own brother. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"I- When he, I mean, how-"
He knew what he wanted to ask and finished the sentence for him, filling him in gently and tone so empty Mizuki wasn't sure if he found relief in his answer, "He was in a coma. He probably had no idea."
"Hm. Are you okay?"
"I think so." Uncertainty now, but not so bad that Mizuki wouldn't believe him, turning to see him and lips quirked up a little at the side, faintest blue light of early dawn seeping through the blinds, changing the subject. "I told him about you, the last time I saw him. Told him I'd made a friend, a couple."
He thinks for a minute before the face of a similarly cocky teenager comes into his head and he realises who this other friend must be, wondering when Sly had last seen him and how they'd ended up becoming close at all. "Noiz?"
"Yeah. Not sure I can call you a friend though."
That was just like Sly and he could hear the smile in his voice, the confusion of what they were fading away as he realised that perhaps it didn't much matter what title they might affix to their strange relationship, moments like this making him value it for once. "What would you call me?"
"Don't know yet." His smile is a little rueful, but genuine and warm all the same, something secret to stay trapped within the boundary of this room and their memories, knowing he's understood here more often than not and able to relax into the security net that affords him.
"Sounds about right. It's early, try and get some more sleep," he felt a little like his guardian again but he just nodded and slid back into bed as Mizuki sat up, realising only after waking that his bladder is a little full and as much as he'd like to stay there, close to Sly's growing warmth, he's not dumb enough to risk either waking up again later, or a wet bed.
By the time he got back Sly was sleeping soundly and the closest thing to drowning was the puddle of drool on the unoccupied side of his pillow.
The next afternoon wakes along with Sly who heads immediately for the balcony in nothing but a pair of somewhat old looking boxers, not even responding to Mizuki asking why the hell he is lying on the damn floor. He mumbles something about it being warm and wriggles a little, head pillowed on pale arms and the rest of him splayed out ungracefully across the rather rough slabs the balcony is paved with.
Mizuki really thinks the chairs were a more logical choice, only mentioning this as he realises Sly's skin is rather pink, concerned he's burning and not entirely surprised when all he does is flip over to lie on his back instead.
"Sly."
"Mm?"
He doesn't wait to say it as he would have just a little while ago, things seem easier now, like being in the eye of a storm where it's weirdly peaceful, having battled against every imaginable element just to get there. "Stay a few more days."
A long, sleepy but contented exhale accompanies his sentence, almost a yawn and not at all objectionable, ribs rising and straining under scarred skin as he doesn't even open his eyes, keeping them shielded from the sun. "You said a week."
"Yeah, so what? You've barely been conscious most of this week," true enough that he can't deny it, and besides, between him going to his Granny's and hiding in bed, he's really only spent a few days actually living with Mizuki the way he intended when he initially asked. "Just stay a bit longer."
"Couple of days. I'll give you a couple of days."
"Thank you." He sounds grateful enough that Sly gives him that withering stare he's so fond of, turning his face back into the sun and at least allowing Mizuki to fetch him a couch cushion for his head. He agreed so easily that the bartender wonders if maybe this will be how it works forever now, although that's too solid a word to apply to them, if he'll keep asking him to stay and if Sly will keep agreeing. He thinks that maybe there'll even come a time when he won't have to ask, where it'll just be natural for him to be there, for them to be together. Because after these few days Mizuki can't hide that together is all he wants them to be.
"Hey, hey, hey! What's the hurry, Kou?" He'd grabbed at his arm so abruptly he'd literally spun in place, geta skidding noisily across the asphalt under his feet, turning to face the wide, beaming grin of Yuu. "Where you running to?"
"I- Uh," he couldn't really speak somehow, ever since he'd gotten the call his body had been moving on it's own, only aware his kimono was crumpled and unkempt when his assailant gave him a quick, uncertain glance.
"Somewhere important, I bet," he'd stepped back, released his arm with a sudden seriousness to his tone and gaze warming. "Go. Tell him I said hey."
He doesn't tell him anything of the sort, he gets to the room, bathed in the warming glow of early summer sun and he prays. Prays that he'll be okay, that he won't be angry, that any damage he incurred was strictly physical and that his mind will be as intact as it ever was.
There's doctors and nurses bustling round, anticipating the moment he'll open his eyes, they've removed his IV already and Kou had hidden a sickly wince as a single trickle of blood ran down his already scarred knuckles.
Then something must have changed because there's more noise and his view is temporarily blocked off, left stood in the corner by the door to try and work out what's going on, if this is bad. A beam of light flits across his leaders face, checking the dilation of his pupils, they're asking him questions and he supposes it's good that he can understand to respond, but he realises he's shaking only after all the checks are done and they're left alone.
He's awake but he still looks ill as he approaches cautiously, all the guilt and fear he'd been feeling bubbling up at once as exhausted crimson eyes flicker over to him and pallid skin shifts on rough hospital sheets. Kou can tell he's trying to smile but it seems too much effort and his face relaxes back into a look that could be relief.
"Hey," his voice is weak and when he swallows it visibly takes him a lot of work, accepting the glass of water he's offered, carefully tilting his head up as Kou lets it trickle down his throat, nodding his thanks and awkwardly shouldering his way to sit up. "How is everyone?"
"Um, there's a couple still in hospital but everyone else got discharged."
He nods again, eyes scanning over the room and presumably understanding the basics of what had happened at least, relaxing back into the sheets now and strength returning as he manages a smile, too jokey for the context. "You look exhausted, been up late worrying about me, hm?"
His breath catches in his throat when he tries to respond saying how ridiculous that is and Koujaku looks guilty immediately, "whoa! Hey, it's fine, I'm fine, see? Don't get upset."
But of course it's too late by then and Kou feels like he can't breathe over the lump aggressively forcing it's way out of his chest, feeling hot shame wash over him as it's Koujaku who has to do the comforting as he somehow manages to hold in his sobs long enough to speak.
"I'm so sorry." He's been waiting to say that to him for so long now that the second it's out, the high barriers he'd put in place to pretend strength for the team crumble and he's burst into noisy, shuddering tears that make his whole body shake. Nothing feels real, not his leaders almost unnerved expression, not the fact that there's a hand reaching for him, not that he's even awake, and he hides his face in the sheets to conceal his tears as much as to feel Koujaku's leg under his forehead, to know this is real and he's finally okay.
His fingers are twisting the sheets and all he can hear is the beeping of the ever-insistent heart monitor and his own tears, slumped over and glad his hair hides as much of him as possible as a hand comes to rub at his back with comfort he doesn't feel he deserves.
Koujaku doesn't speak, not when a nurse comes in and tuts sympathetically, handing him tissues and easing him up with the light-hearted remark that if he's not careful they'll both be swimming. Even when she returns with a cup of tea for him and fresh water for Koujaku, the leader, his leader, doesn't say a word, just drinks more water and watches him dab his eyes dry and heave with leftover breaths of almost hysteria.
Then he speaks, and if he hadn't cried all his tears already he would have been blubbering again, because they're the words he's been wanting to hear for weeks and the returning light in those crimson eyes is still one he trusts implicitly.
"This isn't your fault, you did the right thing."
