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Ren pushes open the heavy double doors and stumbles out into blinding sunlight. Mid-afternoon heat presses in on him immediately, soaking into his bones and driving out the air-conditioned chill of the classroom. For a second, he just stands there in front of the lecture hall and blinks until he can see again.
Morgana hops out of his bag and onto the pavement, stretching luxuriously and yawning a big kitty yawn. "Ahh, we're finally done! That wasn't too bad, was it?"
"Easy for you to say." Ren sighs and starts down the path at an easy stroll. Light filters through the trees on either side and lands in dappled patterns on the ground, shifting like ripples of water as a breeze passes through the leaves, warm and sweet. This time of year feels a little like wandering through a dream- or maybe it's just the delirious cocktail of exhaustion and the heat of early June, but his spirits rise anyway.
"Hey, I helped! Support is my specialty, you know- moral or otherwise." Morgana sniffs and trots after him, his little paws silent on the concrete. With his sleek black fur, he blends into the shade surprisingly well.
"Yeah, I know." Ren looks down at him and manages a small smile. "You think I did okay?"
"You totally killed it," Morgana reassures him. "And even if you didn't, a bunch of dumb midterms aren't the end of the world anyway."
Of course not, but as someone who's conquered both, Ren would really rather not think about midterms or the end of the world right now. Just up ahead, where the path opens up onto a lush green quad, he spots a figure standing idly beneath a tree, gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. Ren's steps quicken- he can't help it, it's been so long since he last got to see that tired, impatient, beautiful face- and then he's twenty paces away, then fifteen, then ten, and that gaze finally lands on him, sharp and intense and familiar.
If he came alive when he first stepped out of the building, now he's blooming like late spring.
Goro watches from the shade as the two of them approach. He looks great- leagues better than Ren, who'd looked like he hadn't slept in a week when he dared to check in the mirror that morning. It's a bit unfair, but then again there's nothing fair at all about Goro's long legs in a pair of Ren's dark jeans, or the patch of sunlight falling across his neck, exposed with the collar of his button down open just enough and his hair tied back in a deliberately casual ponytail.
Unfair. Ren runs a hand through his rat's nest of frizzy curls and saunters up to him.
Goro's gaze rakes over him from top to bottom. Without a word, he hands Ren an iced black coffee, the ice cubes clinking together merrily in the tumbler.
If Ren wasn't grinning like a huge idiot when he first saw him, he certainly is now. "Aw, thanks. You're the best."
The coffee tastes like happiness, the usual bitterness mellowed enough by the ice for all the subtle flavors to shine through, vibrant and invigorating. Just the taste of it makes Ren feel loved.
"I figured you'd need it," Goro says, his scrutiny softening into concern. "You look awful, by the way."
Morgana blinks up at him. "Give him a break, he's been working hard all week."
Goro makes an impatient noise and tucks a loose wisp of honey brown hair behind his ear. His hair's getting long again, the fine strands turning golden from the sun- Ren longs to run his hands through it again and feel the silkiness between his fingers, but there's time for that later, when he's not too busy staring instead of listening. "So have I, but at least I don't look half-dead," Goro says, or something to that effect.
Morgana just rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but Ren sidles up next to Goro and nudges him with his elbow. "So, did you miss me?" he says cheekily, biting at the plastic straw. It's one of his vices- the straw is already covered in similar marks.
"Of course I did," Goro huffs. The flush on his cheeks is probably just from the heat, but Ren indulgently pretends for a moment that it isn't. "And I see you haven't fared much better without me. Whatever happened to taking care of yourself?"
"I did!" Ren protests. "I ate well, I slept okay, I still got everything done- back me up here, Mona."
"He really missed you," Morgana says instead, the little traitor. "I had to sit on his phone at one point to stop him from texting."
Whatever, Ren can roll with this. "I guess I've just been missing you to death," he says, the corner of his mouth curling up in a tiny grin.
This time the blush has to be for real, because Goro glances away with a huff. "Come on, Ren, it's only been a week," he shoots back, but it has about as much bite to it as the balmy air around them.
"Well, it's been a really, really long week." Ren leans closer teasingly. God, he wants to kiss Goro so bad- he's been languishing, kiss-deprived, for almost seven whole days because school and work and life all got together and decided to have one thing happen after another this week of all weeks, and the first thing they have planned today involves being in public places where making out is probably definitely off the table.
"Too bad, then," Goro scoffs. His gaze drifts back to Ren, warm and amused despite his words. The leaves rustle overhead, and the little patch of light shifts across his neck and over his delicate collarbone.
He looks so vibrant against all the greenery around them. So vital, so full of life.
"Come on, you two. We should get going before the supermarket gets too busy."
Ren snaps out of it and glances apologetically at Morgana, who, understandably, still has a limit to how long he's willing to watch Ren and Goro stare at each other like idiots. "Okay. Yeah, let's go."
"Wait."
He pauses mid-crouch, about to set his bag on the ground to let Morgana in, and slowly straightens back up to look at Goro. "What?"
Goro leans in and presses a kiss to Ren's mouth, soft but insistent, and Ren leans into him, feeling the knot in his chest finally begin to loosen. When he opens his eyes, he sees the same relief reflected openly on Goro's face, and he's glad all over again that they don't have to stay a secret anymore.
"Okay," Goro smirks. "Now we can go."
--
They decide to go to the supermarket near campus. It has a larger selection than the one by Goro's apartment and Morgana always wants to go look at the live fish, so the three of them end up at this one more often than the others.
The place is already crawling with other college students trying to escape the heat or procure their dinner ingredients. Morgana ducks all the way down into the bag and Ren and Goro weave their way past the bottleneck at the entrance- or rather, Goro cuts a path through the crowd and Ren sticks close behind him, shopping basket hanging from the crook of his elbow.
Once they make it through, Goro scans the produce section like he's checking for shadows and forming a plan of attack. "What do we need?"
"Hmm. What do you have?" It's fine, Ren is used to having to manage inventory for the team, anyways.
Goro puts a hand on his chin and his face scrunches up with the consternation of someone trying to recall the contents of their refrigerator. "I should have half an onion left. Although, it's been sitting there for about a week. Maybe more than a week."
Ren sighs. "Grab an onion."
Goro plucks an onion from the display in front of them and drops it gracelessly into Ren's basket without even checking it for bad spots like some kind of uncultured heathen. He breezes on ahead to the refrigerated produce displays, leaving Ren to examine his pick.
Morgana's weight wiggles around and he peers out of the bag curiously. "What's the verdict?"
The onion passes inspection and gets rolled gently into the corner of the basket. "He got lucky this time."
"You'd think that after that one time with the worms, he'd have learned to check the stuff he buys more carefully," Morgana muses.
Ren shrugs. "You'd think, right? I have no idea how he's survived this long."
They both look over to the next aisle where Goro is subtly shoving people out of the way with his pointy elbows to get to the carrots.
"It would take a lot more than dodgy food to kill someone like him," Morgana adds. "Like, a lot more."
"Yeah," Ren sighs again, this time caught somewhere between pride and that old, foolish sentimentality that used to earn him nothing more than a sharp glare and an earful about how brainless he is. These days, it tends to get him a melodramatic eye roll- and maybe a blush if his words hit their mark- that he cherishes with all his heart, because now Goro can afford to be a little sentimental, too.
A minute later, Goro emerges triumphantly with his spoils and plunks them into the basket, a mishmash of fruits and vegetables that Ren hopes he at least took a glance at before he picked them up. But even if they're not perfect, they can just cut out the bad spots later. It'll be fine.
"I still have a box of curry roux in my cabinet from last time," Goro announces. "With that, I think we have everything except the meat."
The pride in his voice is so damnably cute, Ren can't help but smile as he rifles through the basket and runs the contents against his mental checklist. Morgana watches closely from the shadows of his bag, conducting his own little peer review.
"Did you get the right potatoes this time?" he teases, even though Goro hasn't accidentally gotten sweet potatoes since the first time they did curry night.
Goro rolls his eyes and doesn't give Morgana the satisfaction of anything else.
Indeed, the potatoes are there, and so are the carrots and apples and ginger that they use every time. "Do you have eggs?" Ren asks.
Goro pauses and levels a suspicious stare at him. "I should have a few. What the hell do we need eggs for?"
And then a raised eyebrow and: "I thought we had a deal, Ren."
"We do." Ren ignores Morgana's mumbled ugh, you guys make deals about literally everything and gives Goro the crooked grin he knows he loves, the one he finds irresistibly endearing. "Don't worry, it's still gonna be just dinner tonight, nothing else, but I'm adding a little something special to it. Because, you know. I want to."
Goro opens his mouth and then closes it again and shakes his head slightly. "Taking advantage of a loophole? I don't know why I expected anything else from you," he says with the most immensely pleased smile Ren has seen in a long while. Amidst the purgatory of fluorescent lights, he draws just a little closer and basks in its warmth.
They pick up a bottle of peanut oil ("What's wrong with the oil I have?"), a small bag of flour ("You'd better not be making me a cake-"), and a box of panko ("Ah, so we're frying something..."). As fun as it is to watch the wheels in Goro's detective brain spin, and as much as he denies enjoying these tiny mysteries, the answer is given away by the cut of pork loin that Ren hefts into the basket.
"Katsu curry? Not a bad choice," Goro says, like his eyes aren't gleaming just thinking about the tender meat and light, crispy breading.
Ren is so excited for this. "I always loved eating it growing up. Probably haven't had it since before I first came here, though."
"So, really, you're just making this for yourself, then," Goro teases.
Ren snorts and elbows him gently. "Shut up."
They start meandering towards the checkout lines. "I've never had it before," Goro says, a little quietly. Before Ren can say anything, he adds, "Whenever I saw it, I always thought the curry would make the breading soggy and unappealing, so I never tried it in a restaurant, either."
Ren shakes his head. "It's not a problem if you just eat it fast enough."
"Is there really not some kind of scientific technique that lets it stay crisp?"
He can't resist a smirk. "You could keep the curry and the katsu in separate dishes."
"Yes, but-"
"Hey, pay attention!" Morgana hisses from inside the bag, his voice slightly muffled. "You guys are up!"
They shelve the discussion, and Ren steps up to the checkout.
--
At this hour, the Shibuya train station is always thrumming with high school students going home for the day. The three of them step off the train into the humid, claustrophobic heat of the platform and slowly make their way up the stairs along with the crowd until they arrive aboveground, where a warm breeze blows into the station from outside, thick with the smell of summer.
"You sure you don't want to have dinner with us?" Ren turns his head to look at Morgana, half in the bag and half perched on his shoulder, enjoying the warm sun on his fur.
Morgana shakes his head. "Naw, it's okay, I'll be at the group dinner with everyone else tomorrow. You two deserve to have some time to yourselves."
"Thanks, Mona." Ren gives him a scritch under the chin, which he graciously accepts, shutting his sky-blue eyes indulgently for a second. "I'll get you takeout sushi next week."
"You don't need to buy my friendship, Ren. You know that, right?" Morgana says, headbutting him gently. "But I mean, if you're offering, I'll gladly take sushi as compensation. Fatty tuna, of course, but I've been getting really into sea bream lately, too. Oh, and I've always wanted to try urchin!"
Goro just smirks at Ren's growing look of horror. "Your cat is going to utterly bankrupt you, Ren."
"I know," Ren says weakly.
Morgana clambers the rest of the way out of the bag and lands gracefully on the ground. "I'm heading back to Leblanc for the day. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," Ren says. "And tell Futaba to text me when you arrive, okay?"
"Of course. And..." Morgana turns to look at Goro. "Happy birthday, Akechi."
"Thank you," Goro says, with a tinge of warmth in his voice. It's such a small thing, but Ren's heart still swells with immense joy- he would've never believed it had he not seen conversation after conversation unfold just like this over the past year. It should be impossible- and yet, it isn't.
"Have a good evening, you two." And with that, Morgana trots down the hallway and disappears into the station, headed for the Aoyama-Itchome line.
They watch him go, and then Goro inclines his head towards the station exit. "Shall we?"
Ren nods, and they head out.
The trees in the square are full with their lush, green foliage, rustling quietly amidst the noise of the city and soaking up the afternoon sun before it sinks beneath the tops of the skyscrapers. A slanting ray catches in Goro's eyes and lights them up in a deep, resplendent shade of red, wrenching Ren's heart back to a summer day three years ago. Not long after they'd first met, they had stood in this exact square, drenched in sunlight and the undeniable excitement of their new, fledgling bond, unaware that it was about to change both their lives forever.
Looking at Goro now, that sun-warm gaze pouring down into the depths of Ren's soul, he wouldn't change a single thing about the way it had all happened.
Maybe he wouldn't feel this way, had things turned out differently. If that miserable year he'd spent believing Goro was dead had become two years, and then ten, and then twenty, he'd have carried the regrets and the loss like a dying ember until the day he stopped breathing, until it suffocated in darkness and finally extinguished alongside him.
But that isn't the way it ended. What happened is this: Goro is still here and he's turning twenty-one, three years older than he ever thought he'd be. He steals Ren's coffee out of his hand and slips in his own as easy as breathing, lacing their fingers together as they move through the crowded square, flowing into each other like two halves of a whole reunited.
Instead of the brand of an ember, Ren wakes each morning to the warmth of the sun watching over him. He's so unimaginably lucky.
They walk past Central Street and turn onto a smaller side road, lined with shops and bustling with the lively afternoon rush. Ren lets his feet carry him along the familiar path, pulled along at a leisurely pace by the tides of people.
"How was the exam this morning?" Goro asks innocuously.
Ren just shifts the heavy bag of groceries in his other hand and grimaces. "Ask me again in a week when I get my scores back."
Goro snorts, unimpressed. "If you neglected me for a week to study just to get shitty grades anyway, I'll never forgive you."
Ren glances over at him and raises his eyebrows. "Uh-huh. And how are your grades?"
"They're exceptional as always. Is that even a question?" Goro, the asshole who has had zero exams this week, slurps the last of the iced coffee through the straw triumphantly and eyes Ren right back. "I've actually gotten ahead on work for most of my classes. It turns out that I get a lot done when you're not there to distract me."
Ren was not a distraction, thank you very much, he was the last barrier between Goro and an exhaustion-induced collapse during the particularly desolate winter term they'd just put behind them a few months ago. "So what I'm hearing is that you should be thanking me, not griping," he says instead, because they've already been over all that before.
Goro rolls his eyes. "I hate you," he says snippily.
You love me, Ren wants to say. He doesn't, but he absolutely thinks it, and he lets the weird tight feeling squeeze his chest and then loosen its grip and pass.
Maybe he should've just said it. It's just a joke, there's practically no chance of a misunderstanding, and anyway, isn't it the truth, even if the idea of hearing it out loud scares him a little?
Maybe it scares him more than just a little.
Suddenly Goro stops in the middle of the street. "Wait- Ren."
Train of thought interrupted, Ren stops next to him. In front of them is a small garden store he doesn't remember seeing on this street before, decorated with colorful banners advertising its grand opening and impressive displays of bouquets and potted plants in front of the shop. Goro yanks him towards it unceremoniously.
"They actually opened a few days ago, but I wanted to wait until you could come with me to go look," Goro explains as they pull up in front of the store to stare at the displays. Maybe it's just the light, but Ren could swear his eyes are sparkling.
He tears his own eyes away to examine the bouquets. They're beautiful and bursting with color, but it's their sweet, delicate scent that brings back memories of all the quiet afternoons he spent working at Rafflesia in high school. He misses the calm of arranging a bouquet- how long has it been since he last bought flowers for Goro and watched his face light up when he saw them in his kitchen? Months? Maybe he should fix that.
"Oh-" Goro drops Ren's hand and shoves the empty tumbler at him, freeing himself to carefully, gently pick up a small nursery pot out of a whole row of them. The plant inside has a few tender leaves bravely unfurled to face the world, a lively green streaked through with pretty white marbling, and looks somehow happy to be cradled in Goro's two hands, just like Ren's stupid, sentimental heart.
"I changed my mind. Buy this for me?" Goro says with that stupid hopeful glimmer in his eyes. He knows he's doing it, too, and that it never fails to pierce straight through Ren's defenses to compel him to give Goro what he wants.
And what he wants is- Ren glances at the tag- a 700 yen pothos seedling with the variegation that he's been looking for for ages, as a birthday gift. The first and only birthday gift he's ever asked Ren to get him.
Ren gives up trying to bite back his stupid grin. "Is that even a question?"
--
At some point, when Ren wasn't looking, the smell of Goro's apartment stopped feeling foreign to him. Waiting for Goro to turn the key and walking through the door after him gives him the same feeling as walking into Leblanc but different, because Leblanc doesn't smell like soap and new wood and now, freshly cut flowers. The cafe also doesn't have much natural light, let alone a sunny fifth floor view of the neighborhood, or potted plants on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, or a comfortable futon that smells like Goro, or a bathroom with a shower and a sink where Ren can leave his toothbrush, or any semblance of real privacy.
It's only been a week, but Ren's missed this place more than he thought he would. Crossing the threshold and breathing deeply feels a little too much like coming home.
As soon as Goro kicks off his shoes, he makes a beeline for the kitchen and shuffles his plants around on the windowsill to make room for his new adoptee, clearing a spot next to the spiky, striped haworthia that Ren had mentally dubbed Loki the very first time he saw it. Every now and then he gets the urge to point out the uncanny resemblance, but he's never found a way to say it that doesn't sound completely insane, so he just suffers in silence. Maybe the pothos can be Robin Hood- the cute heart-shaped leaves certainly have the right contrast to Loki's pointy demeanor.
Ren toes his shoes off and joins Goro in the kitchen. He puts everything on the counter and opens the cabinet under the sink, reaching behind a roll of garbage bags and an extra bottle of dish liquid to pull out a vase, the glass covered in dust and water marks. He rinses it out and sets up shop at the dinner table with the flowers he'd picked out at the shop, settled comfortably in his chair.
He zones in and out as he takes the flowers out of their wrapping paper and cuts the stems, always at a sharp angle, before inserting them in the vase. In the background, he can hear the ruckus of Goro putting away the groceries, opening and closing the fridge, and rearranging the pantry shelves, the distinct and comforting music of domesticity that Ren tunes into as he works. An adjustment here, a slight shift there- the lighter colors balance out the more vivid ones, and the small flowers give the big, showy ones their backdrop: sunflowers with radiant yellow petals, delicate white daisies, deep red asters, and some small blue flowers that he doesn't know the name of. Myosotis, according to a quick web search.
Soon after, he's finished. He steps back to look at his arrangement- not bad, considering how rusty he is- and turns the vase to appraise it from another angle. The glass scrapes loudly against the wooden tabletop, jarring in the silence.
It really is quiet in here. Ren looks up and checks back into reality to see Goro leaning against the kitchen counter empty-handed and just... watching him. Holding Ren carefully in his gaze, as if he's afraid he might still slip through his fingers, even now.
He keeps staring, open and smoldering, as Ren walks over with the vase and sets it in the sink. Ren turns on the tap and lets the cold, clear water run until it covers the stems, and doesn't look away either.
The flowers find their place in the center of the dinner table. They brighten every corner of the little one-room apartment, from the photos of the two of them on the walls to the electric kettle that lives by the sink to Ren's old jacket hanging from the back of Goro's chair- warm, radiant, full of life. Goro is all of that, too, when he wants to be- but he's also sharp, he's cynical and formidable, he's a long-limbed, short-sighted tangle of imperfect human contradictions, pulling Ren into his orbit.
"Well?" Goro tilts his pretty head, and the room lights up like he pulled back a curtain.
"Well, what?" Ren holds onto the edge of the table. They aren't very far apart, but he wants this moment to last, wants to frame the shot perfectly before he presses the shutter in his mind.
Goro rolls his eyes and ruins the picture. "Stop staring at me and just come here."
And so Ren does. If his flowers shine like a beacon on a promontory, then Goro is the sun itself.
His arms wrap around Ren's waist and their lips meet, slow and unhurried. Ren reaches up and gently tugs Goro's hair tie out until his hair falls loose and light around his face, the ends brushing against Ren's cheeks. It's just as impossibly soft as it looks and it smells absolutely fucking divine, and Ren greedily runs both hands all through it, utterly entangled as Goro sighs sweetly into his mouth, the taste of coffee lingering on his tongue.
This, too, feels like he's finally where he's meant to be- crowding Goro against the kitchen counter to crush their bodies together, melting into lazy, open-mouthed kisses that grow hungrier and more desperate, devouring the contours of Goro's arms and shoulders and chest with his hands and fumbling with the top button of his stupid billowy button-down shirt.
"Need some help?" Goro smirks, his face flushed a beautiful shade of red. He slips his hands under the hem of Ren's shirt to glide over the sensitive skin of his stomach and up his sides.
It feels so good to be touched again. Ren tries to shoot Goro a withering glare, but his smirk only widens in response.
Ren finally gets the button open and buries his face under the loose shirt collar, pressing kisses over the delicate curve of Goro's collarbone and the base of his neck where that patch of sunlight had rested two hours ago, tantalizingly out of reach. His smooth skin smells faintly of soap and summer sweat and something else, something heady and irresistible that drives out every other thought in Ren's head. As Goro tips his head back indulgently, his hair falling back in a perfect, golden cascade, Ren stops thinking altogether and sinks his teeth into skin that's soft and sun-warm beneath his lips and his tongue.
The most delicious sound escapes from Goro's throat and fills the air, and suddenly the afternoon drips around them like molten honey. Ren fists a hand in Goro's hair close to his scalp and sucks at the spot he'd bitten down on, hard enough to leave a mark and make Goro cry out, his own hands slipping down to grab Ren's ass and pull him closer still. A lightning bolt shoots down Ren's spine and he groans into the crook of Goro's neck, rocking his hips, chasing after the euphoria crashing through his body like he's going to lose his entire goddamn mind.
"Fuck," Goro hisses, "Ren-" he bites off another noise, strangled and breathless with need.
"I missed you so much," Ren mumbles, the words tumbling directly from his half-melted brain to his kiss-bitten mouth.
"Fuck," Goro mutters under his breath, nervous instead of heated, doomed in a way Ren can't quite put his finger on. He stares Ren down fiercely, his eyes dark and face flushed. "Are- are you ready?"
Ren blinks. "Huh?"
With no further warning, Goro bends down just slightly and picks Ren up, lifting him up off the floor entirely.
His stomach swoops in a weird, familiar way as Goro carries him across the room. When had he felt this way before? Was it when he'd watched Goro eviscerate shadows gleefully, ripping them to shreds, black blood staining him even darker? Or was it the challenging smirk and the subtle glance every time they passed the baton in front of Penguin Sniper's dartboard? Or when he'd shown up with all of their friends despite his abysmal schedule to welcome Ren back to Tokyo and help him move into Leblanc again? Was it the iced coffee he'd brought today, knowing that Ren would need it? Was it every time he smiled that rare, content smile, or every time he reached out to hold Ren's hand, or-
Ren's back hits the futon and his last ounce of rational thought leaves his head. Goro looms over him with his knees braced on either side of Ren's waist, boxing him in. He cups Ren's face in his hands and leans down, his hair falling in a curtain that blocks out everything else, and then it's just the two of them in the whole entire world.
--
They can barely fit into Goro's shower together, but somehow crowding against each other in the cramped space and knocking into the wall has become as much a part of the ritual as washing each other's hair.
Under the soothing cascade of hot water and the steady rhythm of Goro's fingers working fragrant shampoo into his scalp, Ren finally drops his guard. With his forehead resting on Goro's shoulder, he lets thoughts of forever take shape in his mind and curl like steam around his naked soul. Even as Goro makes exasperated noises and tries to get Ren to stand up straight, he's always patient and gentle and he works the knots out of Ren's hair one by one, like maybe he's letting himself think about forever, too.
Ren knows he'll sober up again when they dry off, but safe in their little pocket dimension he imagines that there won't ever be a last time for this.
--
Having sex is great and all, but it's still nothing like the immense joy of ginger and garlic and onions sizzling away in a pot. The crisp and satisfying sound, the golden brown of the caramelizing onions, and above all, the rapturous aroma- it's a recipe for instant bliss, no matter where the cooking happens, and Ren is on cloud nine.
Goro seems a little less impressed, stationed by the pot to make sure nothing burns while Ren chops the rest of their ingredients. He gives it an occasional stir and stands back whenever something pops and hot oil droplets spray up from the pot. His hair, still damp from the shower and a few shades darker than usual, is pulled back in its usual ponytail, flyaway strands tamed by charmingly haphazard bobby pins. Beneath his old, ratty apron, he's wearing one of Ren's loose, wide-collared sleep shirts, the array of marks around his neck beginning to darken in contrast with the soft white cotton.
All this to say- he looks good. He always does, but there's something about the way that the late afternoon light slants through the window and sets his skin aglow that makes it hard to look away. It's warm in the apartment and warmer still in the kitchen, especially right next to the stove, but it doesn't hold a candle to what Ren feels when he looks at Goro. Or at his ass in those shorts that don't even reach past the hem of his apron.
Ren shakes his head fondly and opens the kitchen drawer next to him for the vegetable peeler. It's the cheapest, flimsiest thing he's ever laid eyes on, speaking more to a desperate need once upon a time rather than any actual consideration for decent kitchen equipment, and he hates it with a passion. Goro doesn't own a knife small enough for paring, either, so he has to put up with this stupid peeler. Unless-
"I'm buying you a new peeler for your next birthday," Ren says as he lays into his potato. Honestly, a butter knife would be more effective than this crap. "I can't live like this."
Goro turns to look at him, twirling his wooden spatula in his hand. "Why wait for next year? You could buy me one tomorrow."
"Don't tempt me," Ren grumbles. With no serrated edge to the dull blade, he can barely even get it to cut into the skin. "I will walk out and get one right now."
Sighing, Goro sets down the spatula and holds out his hand. "Fine, I'll do it if you stop whining."
They swap spots with practiced ease. Ren takes the reins and pours the chicken stock into the pot, creating a huge plume of fragrant steam. As the ingredients calm down and begin to simmer nicely, he checks back on Goro's progress with a sort of pyrrhic satisfaction.
It's not going well. "Shit. This sucks," Goro mutters, jabbing the blade of the peeler into the potato and yanking.
There's a loud snap, and then the sound of something skittering across the floor.
"Um," Goro says.
"...I'm just surprised it took this long," Ren sighs, bending down to pick the plastic shards up off the floor. "Here, I'll take care of that. Can you grab the other stuff? The-"
"The secret ingredients! Yes. Of course." Goro turns on his heel to reach for the pantry, barely disguised excitement glittering in his eyes.
It's sappy, Ren knows, but he can't help but find it unbearably cute even though Goro always denies that it happens. He has no idea why- there's absolutely no way Goro hasn't caught on that those ingredients were chosen just for him. The curry was easier than the custom coffee blend had been- with a more honest sense of Goro's palate, it was just a matter of fine-tuning the flavor and consistency.
Not that this particular pot of curry has any consistency to speak of anymore. Ren gives up on the potato and tosses the chunks in with the skin on. He washed it beforehand, it's fine, maybe the skin will even add some texture. The carrots enter the pot in much the same state.
Goro returns and sets down honey, ketchup, the dark chocolate that he "keeps a supply of to cook with", and an apple- their secret, one of the sweeter ones that they share.
Ren gets to figure out how to peel the apple and Goro gets a spoon. "How much of this do I add?" he asks, opening the top on the ketchup.
"Not too much. Just eyeball it."
"What do you mean?" Goro narrows his eyes at him. "Do you not have a set amount you use every time?"
"...No?" Amused, Ren looks up from his apple. "I just go by feel."
"You mean you don't have a recipe for this?" Goro says, incredulous, even though he's watched Ren go through this exact process numerous times.
"At my level, a recipe only holds me back," Ren shoots back breezily.
"Well, I'm not above needing one. How much fucking ketchup do I put?"
"Okay, okay," Ren laughs. "Just put a spoonful of each for now. The flavor is supposed to be subtle."
Goro sighs but he diligently measures the ingredients into the bubbling broth, and then moves aside for Ren to grate in the apple and passes him the ladle.
This next bit they both definitely know by heart: standing shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, Goro hands Ren the curry roux a couple of cubes at a time and watches as he dissolves them in ladlefuls of broth. The curry isn't perfect, but Ren still wants it to be as good as he can make it, so he stands there and slowly, painstakingly makes sure no chunks are left in the ladle before letting it mix into the rest of the pot.
In his peripheral vision he sees Goro's gaze slide up to his face, and then back down to his hands. It isn't silence between them but the sound and the smell of a place where he belongs, of this life together against all odds.
"I was thinking," Goro says abruptly, and then falters. "...Perhaps not right now. Or- or anytime soon. It doesn't have to happen at all, actually, if you hate the idea, but."
Ren thinks he knows what's coming.
Goro exhales. "You should move in with me," he says. "You sleep here so often anyway, it wouldn't even be that much of a change."
Would it be embarrassing for Ren to admit that he already kinda thinks of this place as home? Probably.
And okay, maybe it's a bit much at this point to say he wants to spend the rest of his life with Goro- only fools rush in, and all that- but something inside of Ren is certain that if he fucks up and lets him slip away, he is never going to find anyone like Goro ever again. Maybe this is true of everyone he meets- every person in the world exists only once, inimitable and unforgettable in their own way- but none of them are Akechi Goro, and none of them can make Ren feel the way he does now.
"So? Say something," Goro prompts, staring down at the counter.
Ren stirs the last of the roux into the pot and turns the heat down low. "I like the idea," he says.
"...But?"
"Why does there have to be a 'but'?" Ren smiles ruefully and finally turns to face him. "Of course I want to move in and live with you eventually. Is it that hard to believe?"
There's that steeliness in Goro's eyes, lurking just beneath the dark mirth on the surface. "Well, things are almost always complicated where you're concerned," he says lightly.
As if they're still chasing each other through a year that tried to kill them both. "Sure, but that was so long ago," Ren counters. He knows that people like Goro don't come with guarantees, but neither does Ren himself, and they're both still here, aren't they? "Do you still think that about the things I tell you now?"
"No. Not usually. I'm sorry, I don't mean to doubt you. Especially since I'm the one who asked." Goro glances to the side and his guard slides away, revealing naked, tender emotion that clenches Ren's heart in a vice grip. This time, it doesn't let go. "I believe you. Just don't- please don't say that you-"
That I love you? "That I what?"
Goro takes a breath and looks him in the eye again. "I know what you're thinking. Don't trivialize it just so you can say it to prove a point," he says quietly.
It isn't trivial. It never has been, and it never will be, not to Ren. He catches both of Goro's warm hands and laces their fingers together, pressing palm to palm. "When we're ready then. Would you hear me out?"
The smallest of smiles tugs at the corner of Goro's mouth and he leans forward. "I don't think I'll ever be ready to hear it," he admits, staring at an invisible point over Ren's shoulder. "So- I suppose you might as well just say it and kill me now. Get it over with."
"No, that's- that's such a lame way to do it," Ren laughs, swaying a little, his chest lighter now. "It has to- it should mean something, you know? You should want to hear it."
Goro rolls his eyes and lets go of his hands. "Whatever," he says, smirking because he sees right through Ren like always, and opens the drawer for a clean spoon.
He dips it in the curry and scrapes the excess off the bottom on the edge of the pot, holding it out to Ren. Just to mess with him, Ren takes the bite straight off the spoon.
Rich flavors bloom across his tongue, sweet and savory melting together in a familiar harmony, and hunger opens in his stomach like a yawning pit.
"How is it?" Goro asks.
Ren adds a dash of salt and stirs it in. "It's great. You did good with the ketchup and stuff." Fuck, he still has to fry the cutlets and everything- he can't believe that the trials and tribulations of romance distracted him yet again. "Here, can you taste this and then put the lid on? I need to get started on the tonkatsu."
And like two halves of a well-oiled machine, they get to work.
--
Goro hands a glass of plum wine to Ren, and then pours another one for himself and sets the bottle on the floor next to his mattress. Ren holds his glass very carefully, trying to figure out how he's going to drink it while he's laying down with his head in Goro's lap.
Goro leans forward to hit the spacebar on his laptop and the opening of Phoenix Ranger Featherman R: The Movie starts playing. Nostalgia washes over Ren as the theme song kicks in- no matter how many times he sees this movie, he'll never get tired of it. Goro hums along under his breath, his free hand winding its way through Ren's hair soothingly.
With a full stomach and a comfortable, plush pillow, Ren could almost fall asleep right here. Before he does, he turns his head and moves his arm until his glass clinks gracelessly against Goro's. "Happy birthday," he says. "How does it feel to be old?"
"About the same." Goro takes a sip and then peers down at him. "How are you going to drink that if you're lying down?"
"Dunno, I'll figure something out." If he sits up then Goro won't play with his hair anymore, which would be an utter travesty, so that option is out.
"As long as you don't spill it," Goro sighs. "If you get it on my sheets, you're changing them again."
Yeah, Ren can live with that.
--
They carry a tupperware of watermelon and the decrepit plastic chairs from the balcony up to the rooftop of the apartment building. The flimsy white plastic is stained with a fine layer of dirt and the way it bows a little when Ren sits on it doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but it manages to hold his weight well enough.
Goro perches on the edge of his own chair and unties his hair. It tumbles down his shoulders and he combs through it with his hands, flooding Ren with the floral scent of his shampoo. Together, they watch as the last traces of blue bleed out over the skyline, ebbing slowly until it gives way entirely to Tokyo's harsh neon glow.
There's no chance that they'll be able to see stars from here. A sea of manmade lights spreads out below them- a shallow imitation of the night sky, perhaps, but Ren wouldn't trade it for the world. A warm breeze stirs against his skin, carrying the smell of cooling exhaust and fading humidity and the low, ever-present roar of the city he's grown to love so much.
His eye inevitably wanders and lands on Goro. Well, Ren can't really call it wandering if he always knows where he'll end up- maybe it's more like being pulled, like a magnetic attraction, like the gravity between two celestial bodies.
Stars- gravitational pull- the lights of Earth-
An old, familiar scene stirs and flickers to life somewhere deep in Ren's memory. He sifts through the ashes, trying to grasp its form.
Was it a dream? Was it real, somehow? He doubts it. When he leans over the armrest of his chair to kiss Goro, he just tastes like the cold sweetness of the watermelon that stains both their lips, not moonlight and unearthly wind. When Goro's eyes flutter open, they hold no trace of the first colors of that surreal dawn.
"This reminds me of a dream I once had," Ren murmurs. "It was just the two of us, floating above the earth, slow-dancing. There were stars all around us, as far as the eye could see." He gestures to the rivers of headlights, the nebulae of shop signs, the constellations of residential street lamps and distant bedroom windows.
Goro's eyes sharpen with keen interest, so Ren continues.
"I didn't know you were alive at the time, and I thought I'd finally lost it. I'd never really dreamed that vividly before." Or lain in bed the whole day after, crushed beyond belief, desperately trying to sink back into sleep and dream again. "We talked a lot and watched the sun rise. Did you know that from that altitude, it looks like this thin arc of bright blue light that curves around the edge of the earth-" he draws it in the air with his finger- "before the sun finally appears?"
A mysterious, contented smile begins to take shape on Goro's mouth. "I've seen it, yes."
"To me, it was the most incredible thing, but you acted like it was totally normal. Like you take your walks in the stratosphere every morning, waxing philosophical about stars and fate and stuff. It was pretty romantic." Ren can feel the grin creeping onto his face, too, and he doesn't try to stop it.
"Really." Goro rests his chin in his hand and narrows his eyes, amused. "What did I say? No doubt something elegant and profound."
It had been poetic, yes, and Ren would be lying if he said that it hadn't made him all kinds of emotional, or that he hadn't been caught off guard by how deeply the feelings he'd tried to bury still ran. But even though Goro's exact words used to be so clear in Ren's memory, he doesn't really remember them anymore, and it doesn't bother him as much as he'd thought it would. After all, Goro had kept his promise to Ren, hadn't he? They've made so many new memories since then, a year's worth of mornings and afternoons and evenings they never thought they'd get to have. And besides-
"I can't say." Ren shakes his head. "I promised you that I'd keep what you said a secret."
A look of satisfaction settles over Goro's features. "I see. Alright then," is all he says, still smiling softly.
Ren blinks at him. "You're not curious at all?"
"Hmm." Goro tilts his head. "Not really."
In a way, it makes sense- they're the same through and through, aren't they? Ren doesn't need galaxies or star systems or the grand romantic metaphor of the cosmos, he just needs this, right here on Earth, and looking into Goro's eyes, Ren thinks that he knows this, too.
Ren shrugs. "Well, it was just a dream, anyway. You'd never say any of the stuff you said in real life."
He gets an exasperated eye roll in return. "All the more reason for it to stay within the confines of your head, then."
"I get it, I'm a sentimental bastard," Ren laughs. And- it really doesn't matter. The way Goro looks at him now, tender and unreservedly fond, is more than enough. He reaches out to hold Goro's hand and lets himself be held in turn, content to feel small in the arms of the vast night sky.
It's okay. He's home.