around the house

Maybe catching up with their old friends at the bar was a mistake.

Shinko slumps their way back into the shared apartment, dropping their bag by the door. It had been a good morning, up until it had turned into ‘share how well your love life is going’ hour for all of them.

“We’re thinking of moving in together!” “Oh, it’s been so much fun! I can’t wait for Matentines with them!” “I’m so in love with her, and she always sends me these cute little wake up texts!” “I spent a few nights with the most lovely bun!”

Every single one of them had some story of great romantic success. They’re really just all living it up! All of them having so much fun. So much success. Shinko had been trying to sink into their seat and avoid feeling bitter.

But of course, that couldn’t go unmentioned. Of course, the eyes had to turn to them. And while it was well meaning, poison had dripped into Shinko’s heart with the question. “And how are things between you and Sozo going? Are you two still together?”

Still together. As if they were more than roommates. As if they’ve been more than roommates for a while.

Well, they think as they fumbles their shoes off, they fuckin’ wish! 

A cloud of gloom had settled over their head when they had to explain that no, they’re not romantically involved, no, they’re just roommates. It’s the kind of gloom that is sometimes only made worse after a so-called fun night out drinking, and now they’re home relatively late feeling worse than they typically do after a night out.

They shuffle into the living room, trying to be quiet. Sozo sometimes has passed out at this point in time (typically tuckered out after an entire day outside), so they want to be a good roommate at least and not clomp throughout the halls. 

However, the lights are still on, and Shinko hears some vague shuffling in the kitchen. Then, their sense of smell kicks in, and they smell something very tasty wafting through the air. Almost floating towards the smell of it, they head over to the kitchen where they know Sozo is making a late night snack.

“Welcome home,” Sozo says, nodding to Shinko in acknowledgment. “You have fun?”

“Yeah,” Shinko lies. “It was a good bar.” Typically, they would elaborate a little bit more. They’re not in the mood tonight. 

Shinko moves around to lean over Sozo and look at whatever is cooking in the pan. Losing the fight with the inner impulses, they rest their chin on Sozo’s bare shoulder. At least they resist the urge to nuzzle in, which would undoubtedly be inconvenient to the fish Sozo seems to be frying.

“You catch that yourself?”

Sozo hums in the affirmative, moving the fish around in the pan a bit. “Mhm. Got some new bait. It works well. I went to the spot you recommended.”

Shinko can’t help the grin that spreads across their face hearing that. Damn, they were smitten. It wasn’t even really a compliment, but they still feel those butterflies in their stomach. Living with a bun that makes them feel like this, how could they not fall head-over-heels? How could they not invite Sozo to fish with them? How could they not snuggle up next to him while they watch movies together? How could they not drag him to all manner of things that they think Sozo might like? When someone makes you feel important with just a few words, you hold on tight.

But they aren’t a couple, and they won’t be. 

Shinko takes themself back down to earth. They’ve given hint after hint, subtle indication after indication. At this point, if Sozo hasn’t acted on all the hints, it’s because he’s not interested. Shinko takes a step back, leaning against the opposite wall. They have to just live with it; they’re not going to ruin what they have going here. 

“I’m going to shower,” they say shortly. 

“Alrighty,” responds Sozo. “Fish will be done in about ten or so minutes.”

Shinko doesn’t respond, and heads back towards their room.

Sozo thinks Shinko might have had a bad day. 

He’s not the best at reading these things. He’s much better at reading things like a coming storm on the wind, or which way to pull when a fishing line is tugging. 

But there was something about the slow way they came walking in. They normally walk a little faster. Or maybe it was the fact Shinko didn’t offer to go to the new fishing spot with him? For some reason, Sozo was expecting them to offer. He would like to go with them.

Either way, something was a little strange. He can’t really put a finger on it. And he doesn’t really know what to do about it. He moves the fish around in the pan again, checking it. Almost done.

Well, he’ll feed them some damn good fish. That much is to be sure. He had tried some earlier, and was sure that Shinko would like it. That’s why he’s cooking it now, around the time Shinko normally gets home from those longer nights out. It’ll be good food to sober them up a bit, if they’d like. Filling. 

Sozo glances over to the dishwasher. The light has clicked onto green, meaning that it’s ready to be unloaded. It’s definitely Shinko’s turn to unload it, as the little household chores chart says.

But… Shinko isn’t feeling well. He’s not sure why, but he’s sure that whenever Shinko’s ready to share, they will. They surely know that Sozo will always be there to listen to them, if they need it. There’s simply no way they don't. 

Sozo sets a lid over the pan. If he lets it steam for a little longer, it will be ready just as Shinko comes out of the shower. And if Shinko would like to say anything over dinner, they can.

In the meantime, Sozo will unload the dishwasher for them.