#seeingivywrites!

you roll your eyes. 

you’re not particularly fond of downtown los angeles. 

there’s too many people – bustling in the streets, clogging up the sidewalk – to the point where you feel like you see hundreds of people every single day. and while the initial thought of moving was exciting, of the unknown, you very quickly realize that you detest it. 

you work in an emergency department that houses almost hundreds of patients everyday. strangers going in and out, coworkers cycling through to the point where you can barely remember anyone's name, and it’s a severely stark culture shock from the ten manned hospital you used to work at out in the suburbs. the same few patients you saw every few months. 

nothing is consistent in los angeles. except for the promise of a local bar owner, by the name of ryomen sukuna, who always tumbles in around the holidays with some type of injury. 

halloween. new years eve. thanksgiving. a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, a viral infection. 

“you know, i almost thought you weren’t coming.” you joke. 

“and miss out on valentine’s day with you?” he asks. 

you reach forward, fingers light on the side of the face as you guide him to look straight at you, so you can assess the damage. there’s a deep cut on the side of his forehead, superficial, accompanied by bruising around the soft warmth of his eyes. 

and while his pretty face is intact, his arm evidently isn’t. there’s a deep gash, one that makes him wince loudly as you touch the bruised skin around it. you narrow your eyes at him, before craning your neck over your shoulder and whistling. 

“yuuta.” 

“yes, dr. l/n?” 

you give him a polite smile. 

“can you get me a suture kit please?” you ask. 

he gives you a polite nod, quickly scurrying away towards the supply closet, as you turn back to sukuna. 

“don’t make that kid do my stitches.” 

“why not? that kid has to learn, you know.” 

“well, he can learn on someone else, for fuck’s sake.” he mutters. 

sukuna leans forward, giving you a bright grin, and whispering so quietly it sends a warm shiver down your spine. 

“you’ve got a special touch, doc. i’m only going to give you permission to patch me up.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. 

“will you really say no if i make him do it?” you ask. 

he gives you a nod. 

“plus, that poor kid has been staring at that girl with the green hair the entire time. you should let them play hooky.” 

“i should let my residents play hooky?” you deadpan. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“where’s your sense of romance?” he asks. 

you cross your arms over your chest, as yuuta sets the suture kit down on the counter and reaches for the gloves. you raise your hand in the air, gesturing for him to stop, and note that you’ll slightly regret this gesture in a few hours when you have to do the paperwork.

“no need, yuuta.” 

he gives you a frown. 

“i don’t mind, boss. you should take a break.” he offers. 

you shake your head at him. 

“you should go into my office and go to the desk on the left. there’s a box of chocolates that someone gifted me in my top left drawer this morning that you should share with dr. zenin.” you note. 

yuuta’s eyes go wide. 

“what do you mean?” he asks. 

“everyone can see that you’re hopelessly pining over maki. including my patient, who has very graciously convinced me to let you be a romantic. get out of my face before i change my mind.” you respond, making your best attempts at a stern voice. 

yuuta flickers his eyes in between you and sukuna, an unmistakably delighted look on his face, as he lightly taps on the door on his way out. you turn back to sukuna, who now has his eyes narrowed at you as you open up the suture kit. 

“you’re telling me there’s other people that give you gifts?” he asks. 

you scoff. 

“you give me gifts?” you asks. 

“the pleasure of my company at your workplace. on every calendar holiday, mind you.” 

you roll your eyes as you clean up the area around his skin, pulling out the silk material for his stitches. sukuna’s well versed in your stitching techniques, and with a pain tolerance so high, it only takes a few minutes. 

“what did you do this time?” you ask. 

“occupational hazard. who gave you the chocolates?” 

you scoff. 

“where do you work? the mma boxing ring?” you ask. 

“do you think i’m fit enough for that? more fit than the dumbass who gave you the chocolates?” he asks, a wide grin spreading across his face. 

you shrug. 

“evidently not. you can barely…

you pause to lift the chart left on the table, yuuta’s messy notes scribbled on the top, before you look back to glare at him. 

“...take down a christmas tree at the bar without injuring yourself. looks like you’re irritatingly possessive too.” you state. 

sukuna places his hand on his chest. 

“i told you to take it down earlier when suguru was still in town.” you note. 

“in my defense, i was protecting my beloved nephew, yuuji, from injury. he crawled underneath and almost got trampled.” he exaggerates. 

you give him a smile. 

“heroic.” you deadpan. 

sukuna gives you a smile, before lifting his hand up to cup the side of your cheek, the touch warm as he rubs a circle into your cheek. you lean into the feeling as sukuna reaches back and fixes the flyaways to the back of your ear, before you return to stitching up his arm. 

“i’m starting to think you’re injuring yourself on purpose just to spend time with me, ryo.” you murmur. 

“would that be wrong, baby?” he asks.

you roll your eyes. 

“wait for me to come home, dumbass. i’m literally off in five hours.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes right back at you, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. he retreats as you set your forceps down, reaching for the roller bandage as you wrap it around his arm. you secure it with a piece of tape at the end, giving him a squeeze on the shoulder to signal you’re done. 

sukuna interlocks his fingers with yours, lifting your hand to press your fingers to his lips. 

“thanks, doc.” he murmurs, tone uncharacteristically soft. 

you can’t help but sigh – the aching feeling of seeing couples doting over each other all day hitting you in full force, that you’re spending your first valentine’s day away from him – as you reach forward and run your hands through his hair. 

“be careful. i’m wrapping you in bubble wrap next time.” you warm, reaching forward to lean your head against his shoulder. 

sukuna welcomes the touch, with three warm kisses spread between your forehead and your hairline, as he shows you the three pictures of the little valentine’s day card that yuuji made for you that’s waiting at home. 

you grant him twenty minutes – twenty minutes before you tear yourself from his side to go process his discharge paperwork – and send him on his way. you can’t help but sink into the chair the second you see his pink hair dart out the doors, as you type the last of his notes into the chart. 

“did the boyfriend enjoy the chocolates?”  

satoru’s hovering over your shoulder, a bright smile on his face, as he expectantly waits for an answer. you lean back in your chair, heaving a great sigh as you eye the clock.  

“he was here, got injured taking down the christmas tree at the bar. and the boyfriend insisted i give them up for okkotsu and zenin. they’re probably kissing in my office for all i know.” 

satoru gives you a polite tap on the head, lightly ruffling your hair, before pulling up the chair at your side. 

“well, you should be flattered. sukuna’s so dedicated to spending time with you. so romantic of himself to injure himself just to come down here.”

you scoff in response. 

“dedicated to being a dumbass is what he is.” 

satoru shakes his head.

you mimic her motions, twisting around to lean against the counter, optioning to place your head on her shoulder. she welcomes your touch, placing one warm arm around your shoulder and squeezing hard. 

“you don’t have to be here when he comes.” 

you shake your head. 

“i can’t leave iris. even if he’s going to be here.” 

four years ago, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom the current situation you were in – standing in your kitchen, being comforted by your ex-husbands girlfriend, over the boy that you were hopelessly pining over. 

four years ago, you would have still been nestled into the little rustic house that you bought with jean, giggling over the keys of your first adult endeavor of house owning, still two cities over. iris was still six at the time, watching eagerly as jean pulled his hamstring putting together the little swingset the two of you gifted her for her birthday on your first night in the house, and you wouldn’t ever anticipate anything changing. 

except everything had changed. for the better, because the two of you made an extremely amicable split. no hard feelings, no immaturity – just two very dedicated co-parents determined to make the best of the situation. something seemingly antithetical to the relationship that you had with jean – riddled with horrible, rash decisions. like getting married at twenty years old. and having your first child at twenty-one. 

granted, things eased up as time moved on. the two of you shifted from two very awkward people who used to be in love, to being the best and only thing you knew how to be – family. mikasa joined around two years after the fact, and was not only the natural buffer to the arguments that the two of you tended to have, but also a very good friend. a natural edition to your rotation. 

jean pretended to be irritated at how close the two of you had gotten. curling up his nose at the fact that the two of you would hang out without him present, absentmindedly share recipes, and exchange your tupperware from sharing food all the time. but deep down, you knew that it filled him with joy – that she had blended in so seamlessly with the three of you, because more often than not, he knew this was entirely against the norm. 

and maybe even more than family, jean and mikasa were thoughtful friends. spending all of their free time secretly plotting to find the perfect fourth for you that would complete the family. you knew it was out of the goodness of their heart – that a part of the situation tugged at their heartstrings, that the two of them had each other, and you just had them. 

that there was a part of them that felt guilty for leaving you alone when the two of them were together. that it felt like a compensation, that you had introduced the two of them, so in return, they need to hold up their end of the favor. 

enter eren. mikasa’s childhood best friend from back home, who had very recently moved to the city, to complete his fellowship in pediatric emergency medicine. 

the first time you met him, you had every intention to ignore the premise that jean and mikasa had presented to you – that he was single, that he had a good stable job, made decent money, and was extremely intelligent and charming – and decided that you were just going to be friends with him. 

that endeavour proved extremely difficult when you realized that he was trying to do the exact opposite. whatever jean and mikasa had said about you was something that had clearly piqued his interest, something that only intensified when the two of you met for the first time at a small party thrown by the jean and mikasa for iris’s soccer team. 

you two were the only adults besides the hosts, left with an infinite amount of time to speak. 

it filled you with an irritation. that everything jean and mikasa had said was right, only you felt like they were selling him short. because not only did he have a good stable job and made decent money, he was filled with so much passion that it was so endearing to watch someone speak about their calling. that he was intelligent and charming, thoughtful and kind, and almost too good to be true. 

it went well. too well, because soon after, he was slowly melting into different parts of your life. he joined you on the morning runs that you went on, always stopping by for dinner on nights that jean and mikasa had iris, offering to fix up the old swing that was broken and left abandoned in your backyard. 

he was the first person to kiss you in almost six years, and quite honestly, made you realize that you hadn’t really kissed anyone before him. at least not in the way eren did, the way that left you breathless and begging for more, a warm searing sensation that plagued you even when he wasn’t around. 

that was until last week. last week, when he asked to meet iris properly, and you realized that this was too close for comfort. that the deep thoughts you were able to push down when the two of you were hanging out, when he kissed you for long enough and made you forget about everything else, were suddenly bubbling to the surface and impossible to contain. 

that he should have no interest in wanting to be with you, not when you came saddled with more responsibility than the other twenty-eight year olds that he knew. 

for one, almost all of his friends were around his age and in the same predicament as him. armin, connie, and sasha. other twenty-eight year olds who had sacrificed almost all of their early twenties to their career, that resembled you at twenty years old, a little too eager to make the world their oyster, responsibilities be damned. 

second, you came with a child. not just the fact that there was a child whose feelings were involved, but the implications of what the two of you could be were extremely limited by the fact.

that not only would the situation have to be extremely serious because she was so young, but that there were too many expectations that came with him being around, too many that you felt unfair to saddle eren with – that he would be expected to be a good role model to her, that for all intents and purposes, this would only work if he could mold himself to fit into the family the way mikasa had when that might not even be what he’s interested in, in the first place. 

and third, maybe most importantly and definitively, you were scared to be with him. granted, this was not the part that you confessed. it isn’t one that he’d ever be privy to, that you were afraid that the two of you would be just like him and jean, a quick and impulsive decision that would ruin something special forever. 

not that you and jean were ruined. if anything, you wouldn’t change the relationship that you had with him for the world. but it was hard at times – hard to reconcile that this wasn’t the future that you imagined for yourself, that you would live a street down from your him and the love of his life, silently remembering that there was a time that you imagined that stable, quiet lifestyle for yourself and it didn’t exactly work out. 

that for all intents and purposes, your original attempt at a family had failed. and you’d rather nip things with eren in the bud, to prevent yourself from ever having to deal with the fact that he might disappear all together – something, you reason, you just wouldn’t be able to stomach. 

“when’s he coming?” you ask. 

“after his shift is over. said he was going to bring a few things, just as a precaution just in case we need them, so he wouldn’t have to run back and forth, if it was something that was emergent.” mikasa offered. 

you nod in response, swallowing down the acidic bile that had risen up in your throat, with resolve about one thing. that this was only one night, that you could make it through this. 

--

your internal clock, the one that had grown too accustomed and attuned to eren, was still intact. because just as you predicted, eren arrived promptly at 8:15. his shift ended at seven, it took him around thirty minutes to switch with the fellow who was on the night shift, another ten to walk to his car, and with traffic, thirty-five minutes to get to your house. 

you couldn’t help but take the back burner when he got here. letting jean and mikasa handle the pleasantries – to deal with letting him in, profusely thank him for agreeing to see iris even though he was most definitely tired from his shift. 

only because you had to deal with the aches that were simmering in your chest, definitely compounded by all the recent stress, and his absence. the sound of his voice, the crinkle of his eyes when he responded – that he diligently remembered to take his shoes off by the door the way you liked, his retorts that he’d come running to help iris no matter what happened, that even though his appearance was betraying him, he’d never be too tired to help us. 

“so where’s my patient?” 

“upstairs, in her room.” you respond. 

eren’s eyes immediately flickered to yours, quick to prompt a warm and almost painful smile in response, as his eye immediately twitched. you could reason that it was because despite the fact that he was the one who had just gotten off a twelve hour shift, it was you who definitely looked worse. 

“lead the way?” eren asks. 

it was hard to not retort in the way that was natural. 

“you know your way around, eren.” you murmur. 

he shoots you a real smile this time, one wide enough to display his dimples, as he curtly nodded and tracked his way up the stairs. for your own sanity, you pretended that you didn’t notice jean and mikasa shooting each other a look, the two of them quietly whispering behind you as the four of you tracked into iris’s room. 

the lights were still dim, the little humidifier going off in the corner, as eren set his backpack down on his feet, crouching down on his legs to lean by the side of iris’s bed. she was still slightly pink in the face from the coughing fit that she had earlier, her eyes robbed of all of their tears and notably exhausted, as eren shot her a polite smile. 

it was hard not to admire eren. there was a part of you that knew deep down that he was good at his job. extremely good with kids, the way mikasa and jean had made an effort to point out to you almost hundreds of times. 

their words did little justice. because in the span of the last twenty-four hours, you had yet to see iris so happy. laughing along with all the dumb jokes eren was sprinkling in with the tests that he was doing – giving her a chance to listen to his breathing the way he was listening to hers with his stethoscope, explaining thoughtfully why she was having such a difficult time with the change of the weather, carefully detailing how she was going to use the new nebulizing treatment that he had brought specially for her to jean and mikasa. 

“and last thing. you’ll want to remember this one when you’re feeling all better, you have to remind your mom that the doctor prescribed ice cream from farrell’s after soccer practice every friday for a whole month, okay?” 

eren shoots you a smile, one that you glare at in response. 

“a whole month?” iris asks, her eyes wide in wonder. 

“maybe even two.” eren retorts. 

you retreat to his side, crouching down on the side of the bed, and jabbing him in the side. you note that he makes a point to exaggerate his wince, earning him a laugh from iris, as you reach forward and press one last kiss to her forehead. her skin was still warm under your lips, eren making a quick gesture to talk outside. 

you reached over and pressed one last lingering kiss to iris’s cheek, before shutting the light off, the four of you retreating back down to the hallway and closing iris’s door behind you. jean and mikasa had already promised to watch her throughout the night – another compensation for the twelve hours you spent fending for yourself watching her on your own. 

“thank you for coming, eren.” you respond. 

eren shoots you a smile. 

“anytime.” 

“seriously. someone needed to dumb down the treatment so that jean would know how to do it when i’m not around.” you responded. 

your comment earns you a laugh from both eren and mikasa, and a simmering glare from jean that most definitely earns you the next retort. 

“right, eren. it’s too bad your work here isn’t over, though, we’re so very grateful at how generous you’re being. now, you can focus on dealing with your other patient.” jean responds. 

you wrinkle your face in confusion. 

“who are you talking about?” 

“you, obviously.” jean responds. 

jean shoots you a glare, before turning to eren and giving him a peachy smile. 

“don’t worry. she may look like a grown up, but she’s mentally sixteen. self-righteous, self-sacrificing, self-sabotaging – whatever word you want to use for it, the way everyone acts when they’re that age. right up your area of expertise.” 

mikasa elbows him in the side, giving him a glare, before turning back towards the two of you. 

“we’re going to go ahead and set up in the guest room. the downstairs area is all yours, so feel free to go ahead. talk, sort it out, catch up! you know, everything in between.” mikasa states, giving eren a rather insistent glare, that you find particularly hard to ignore. 

jean slings his arm around mikasa’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to her temple as the two of them shuffle down the hallway, and you and eren retreat back down the stairs. you make a mental note that jean was going to hear it from you tomorrow morning. 

upon what you’re assuming is mikasa’s request from that very pointed look, eren very carefully trots behind you into the kitchen, following you back to where you lean next to the candle warmer again, as you fidget with the fraying end of the towel next to your dish rack. 

“i’m not quite sure what she gave you that look for, but don’t feel obligated by whatever mikasa told you to stay. i’m positive you’re tired, and you’ve already gone out of your way, so don’t feel a responsibility to stay here.” 

eren hunches down over the counter next to you, leaning so close that your elbows are touching, as he extends his hand out to you, palm up. you debate the premise for a fact, that holding his hand would mean something, before abandoning thought all together, and placing your hand into his, running your finger over the jagged skin on his palm – a scar that you know he earned from playing soccer when he was a kid and falling palm first onto a barbed, metal fence. 

“what if i want to stay here? on my own?” eren murmurs. 

“i’m not quite sure why that would be the case.” 

eren shrugs. 

“i guess it’s partly about what mikasa told me. but the premise still stands, that i want to stay here, all on my own, because i don’t think i could stomach going home when i know you need me here.” 

the bluntness of his words takes you off guard. the implication of them too.

“i don’t need you here.” you murmur. 

eren shakes his head. 

“i don’t think that’s true.” 

you wait for him to elaborate. it takes him a second, the silence between the two of you elongating, as you rub circles into the palm of his hand, amazed that his hands could be so soft for someone who did such technical work all the time, but then again – this was only the first of things that really perplexed you when it came to him. 

“mikasa is the one who called me.” 

“she told me it was jean.” 

“jean called me about iris. but she called me about you.” eren clarifies. 

despite the front that the two of them had, you always knew deep down that mikasa was the one who was the meddler. and this just confirmed it, that jean was the one who went along with it. 

“you know what she said the hardest part of watching iris be so sick was? it was watching you. that despite the fact that it’s hard for anyone to have a sick child, to be stressed out of their mind and worried that they aren’t making the right decisions when it comes to her health, it’s even harder to watch you go through it alone.” 

you sigh. 

“she said when she got here, while jean was still making his way out of work, that she could tell that you had been crying for hours. that it must have been frustrating, watching her in pain all alone, not having anyone to ask, or anyone to go to when you barely felt like you were doing the right thing.” 

“it wasn’t hours. it was five minutes. and it’s bound to happen, i’m sure jean cried about it too.” you retort. 

eren shakes his head. 

“he didn’t. he just called mikasa.” 

“i get it. i should have called them earlier instead of freaking out about the entire thing on my own. point noted, i won’t wait twelve hours to ask for help next time.” 

eren lets out an almost exasperated sigh, before squeezing your hand in his, his warm fingers crushing yours in his grasp. the sudden nature of the movement makes you retract to look up at him for the first time, at his very piercing green eyes that were filled with an almost endearing irritation as he looked over at you. 

“you’re impossible.” 

you smile. 

“isn’t that your favorite thing about me?” 

“not when it’s against my favor.” eren responds. 

you frown. 

“you’re no fun.” 

“neither are you. you make an awful amount of unfair assumptions about everyone around you.” 

“unfair?” 

“unfair! first and foremost, you're being entirely unfair to jean and mikasa. they weren’t setting you up with me because they hated leaving you alone when they left, it’s because they hate seeing you alone. those are two entirely different things. they know you have a tendency to self-isolate, to be incapable of asking for help, because you’re convinced that you can do everything on your own. and they know that’s no way to live and most definitely don’t want that for you when they care about you. not because they feel guilty for leaving you alone, but because they love you so much. because they want you to have that companionship too.” 

you pinch your lips together in a line, taken aback by the bluntness in his tone. 

“second, regardless of whatever happens between us, you should have known that i would have dropped everything to come see iris. i don’t need to hear about it from jean and mikasa, because you should know – surely, you should know that i would do anything for you, and by proxy, anything for iris.” 

he stops to smile. 

“she’s a sweet girl. just like you said, just like her mom, and it’s why i wanted to meet her so bad. not because i’m trying to force myself into your family, or maybe i am, but i felt it was only fair, that you loved her so much and she meant everything to you, and i love you so much and you mean everything to me.” 

you can feel your throat dry. eren never told you that he loved you. 

“and third. you have to realize how self-serving your own internal monologue about why you discarded me to the side was. you didn’t want to saddle me with the responsibility of the fact that you came with a child? did it ever occur to you that i wanted every responsibility that came with you, especially if it was a child? i’m a fucking pediatric doctor, i spend all day and all night talking to kids, because i genuinely love them. you don’t think that your child, especially your child, would be the most endearing thing to me. was it not obvious that i’m all about you? child, and self-sabotaging and weird ex-husband and girlfriend pseudo-family included?” 

he stops for a second, pausing to mull over his thoughts, and speaks quietly for the first time. 

“i know you think you’re robbing me of some opportunity to go act like the rest of my friends. to spend the rest of my twenties partying or clubbing or whatever it is that they’re doing. did it ever occur to you that you’re actually robbing me of the one thing that i want? which is you?” 

you lean forward, resting your temple against his, the premise of his words, the love laced underneath his very self-righteous anger shaking you to your very core. and instead of saying what you actually thought, you resorted to the one thing that was familiar, again. 

“some pediatric doctor you are. you just dropped the f-bomb like she isn’t upstairs.” 

eren groans in response. you can’t help but laugh, noting that he immediately smiles at the sound and leans back, his warm hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

“she’s sleeping.” he whines. 

you loop your arm around his waist, slightly moving him to point at the little candle warmer in the center of the island, the green oak and moss candle at the center, leaning into his side as you whisper. 

“i’m all about you too, even if i have a really shit way of showing it. i even put the candle on when i was crying because…because it kind of smells like you. and the green on the little decal, it kind of looks like your eyes.” 

eren’s whispering voice is warm near your ear, accompanied by a featherlike kiss to your hairline.

“i did that on purpose so you could use it when you miss me. granted, i didn’t think you were going to send me running for the hills and meant it more as a oh he’s busy at work type of thing, but i’m glad it fulfilled its purpose.” 

eren pauses. 

“i have one like it too. smells all flowery, like your pantene shampoo.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“you hate candles. you made it very clear that you think they’re a waste of money.” 

eren shrugs. 

“not a waste when it reminds me of you. and provide me the pleasure of feeling like you’re at work with me, since i keep it in my office.” 

you reach forward, pressing the little switch on the side of the stand off, before turning back and looping your arms around eren, beckoning him as close to you as you could, before looking up at his glimmering green eyes, that were filled with an almost nervous anticipation. 

“why’d you turn it off?” 

“i have the real thing with me. i’ll resort to only using it when you’re not around, which…which hopefully won’t be that often, since that’s what you wanted me to use it for.” 

eren grins. 

“for when i’m at work.” 

“yeah.” you murmur. 

“because i’m allowed to be here besides that?” eren asks, clarifying. 

you nod. 

“whenever you want. especially since you met iris and -” 

eren cuts off your response with a swift and warm kiss to your cheeks, one that sent a tingling feeling all the way down to your spine and unlike any of the other kisses he had granted you. sweet, warm, burning hot. but this one was different – familiar. too quick, too easy. almost out of habit. 

like it was going to happen hundreds of times, him cutting you off in the middle of a conversation you were inevitably going to have.

--

“first of all, we all know he’s wet in his pants for you, just like that weird intern from marketing, that much is obvious since he talks to virtually no one in this office except for fucking you. second of all, he’s the one who dropped them off over here from the front desk.” satoru states, his voice almost excited, and clearly deepening sukuna’s irritation even more. 

you shoot him a smile. 

“i’m not going to acknowledge the first part of what you said, mainly because it sounds so fucking stupid. second of all, i only brought it over here because that idiot okkotsu at the front would most definitely break it on the short journey it would take to bring it over here with his noodle arms.” sukuna retorts. 

“why would you care if it broke? it doesn’t do anything to you if it broke, not unless you were the one who spent the money and the time and the effort to send it to her.” suguru adds, sparing a sneaky grin to satoru, who was so delighted at the fact that someone was joining in on his teasing, that he openly laughed. 

“i’ve got to say, they’re making a fair point. that and the fact that he’s so irritated does nothing to help matters. i just suggested it as a joke at first, but the response he’s giving is nowhere near necessary unless it was true.” shoko adds. 

nanami hums in response. 

“not to play devil’s advocate here. but it could easily be that intern that you were mentioning.” nanami states. 

you shoot him a smile, knowing that he was the only one around who was smart enough to have picked up on your relationship with sukuna, and also the only one to know all too well how much this entire situation must have been irritating him. 

“maybe. but you know that showboat. he would have brought it up to her himself.” suguru notes. 

“yeah, he lays it on too thick. always offering to bring her coffee for meetings, asking her for extra help after hours.” satoru states. 

“you know. sometimes that’s what you should look for in a guy, y/n. someone who isn’t afraid to lay it all out there, because at least you know they’re never embarrassed and totally whipped for you to be doing all that.” 

you shoot them all a polite smile, opting to put sukuna out of his misery – mainly because he now looked positively miserable – as you drop your bag onto the ground, and scoot past them to slide into your swivel chair. you scoot the vase to the side, before turning back towards them all to explain again. you were going to distract them from the topic of sukuna the only way you knew how – by making them feel bad. 

“well, i’m not sure who sent these flowers. but you guys should be a little realistic. sukuna wouldn’t send me these flowers, he wouldn’t even date me in the first place! him or anyone else for that matter, including that intern. he’s just being nice. i mean, it’s been months since i’ve even dated anybody, let alone even being romantically involved with someone as far as a first date. and yeah, it sounds a little pathetic, but these are probably just from my mom who is trying to cheer me up or something…because any real guy would be too embarrassed to do this dumb stuff i like in the first place.” 

your line of reasoning was swiftly cut off by two hands on the sides of your cheek, sukuna’s very slender fingers cupping the side of your face to press a swift kiss on your lips. it did its job – stopping you from rambling on your line of reasoning as to why the flowers couldn’t be from him – as he pulled back, his thumb quickly swiping across your bottom lip, fixing your smudged lipgloss, before he retreated, and crossed his arms over his chest. 

the room was notably silent, no one daring to say anything after his very, very public display of affection, as you looked at him in confusion. you were the first one to break the silence, your cheeks warm as you tucked your hair behind your ears, and swallowed down the warm lump in your throat. 

“uh. what was that for?” you ask. 

“the flowers were from me.” sukuna states. 

you ignore satoru and suguru’s bright smiles from your periphery. you decide to indulge, only for the pure purpose of making them happy on valentine’s day. 

“i know that, sweetheart. did you not know i knew that?” 

sukuna pinches his lips into a line. 

“no. you just went on a whole spiel about how you’re not romantically involved with anyone…” 

“um, as a lie? because they were annoying you? obviously i’ve been romantically involved with someone, you and i have been dating for six months now.” you respond. 

“six months? YOU KEPT THIS FROM US FOR SIX MONTHS?” satoru asks. 

you shoot satoru a polite smile. 

“i gave you more than enough to talk about for the rest of the day. go away now.” you respond. 

the group of them take the hint, the four of them trailing away to their cubicles at the end of the hall, the ends of their conversation lost to you as they retreated away. you know their compliance was only because they expected details from you when sukuna walked away. 

you turn back to sukuna, who was eyeing the flowers that at the end of your desk, as you reach forward, gesturing for him to take your hand. he obliges, interlocking his fingers with yours – the farthest extend of public displays of affection that he would go to, on a normal day of, of course  – as you squeeze his hand. 

“you do know i made all of that stuff up and don’t believe any of it, right?” you state. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, i hope you didn’t just kiss me in front of all of them because you think i have a problem with the fact that you’re not affectionate in public. i don’t really care, i know you have your ways of showing you love me that aren’t outwardly visible to other people.” you respond. 

sukuna frowns. 

“that…that’s not what it is. is that what it is to you?” he asks. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“oh. i figured that’s why you kissed me. because what i was saying was getting to you.” 

he shakes his head. 

“it wasn’t something you said. i knew you were just trying to distract them.” 

you smile, leaning closer to him as you gesture for him to explain. 

“it’s stupid.” he murmurs. 

“it’s satoru and suguru. of course it’s stupid. but you should still tell me anyway.” 

sukuna lifts his free hand, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck, before divulging. 

“it’s uh…that stupid intern they mentioned in marketing. the one that stares at you for a little too long. a little too eager to be doing shit that you ask him to do all the time.” he states. 

you grin. 

“are you jealous of the twenty-two year old intern?” you jest. 

he seethes with anger. 

“obviously fucking not. i can’t exactly be jealous of him when he doesn’t want what i have, can i?” he retorts. 

you grin at him, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. he still obliges your touch, the same way he does when you curl up to him like this in your apartment, and presses a warm kiss to the top of your head. 

“so maybe jealous isn’t the right word. how about possessive? whipped? obsessed?” you offer. 

he groans in response. 

“so if you did send the flowers, why not just tell shoko that you did get them for me? if that was your intention, to make the intern all aware of your manly claim on me?” you joke. 

sukuna rolls his eyes, leaning back one more time, and swiftly leaning down once more again, to press a kiss to your lips. this one lasts longer, its searing warmth making you melt into his arm as he uses his free hand to keep you steady from stumbling. 

“as pretty as you are, you can be really stupid sometimes.” he murmurs, his lips still ghosting over yours. 

“what?” 

“i bought you flowers. for you, no ulterior motive, because it’s fucking valentine’s day.” he states. 

“oh, but…” 

“but i got here and our overbearing coworkers started questioning me about it. and i lied, because you’re the one thing that i like to keep just for myself, and then got mad when they brought up that fucking intern and you started babbling about how no one would ever date you when i was waiting for my chance for so long that i just got mad. what is so hard to understand?” 

you can’t help but smile, reaching forward to pinch his cheek. he shakes your grasp off, giving you a steely glare that you can only respond to with your best and most sincere grin. it only takes a few seconds, for him to waver and break his demeanor, to fight the urge to openly smile back at you. 

“i knew you were mad that i said all that.” you respond. 

“that’s what you took from all of that? and god forbid i got fucking mad that my girlfriend finds it so easy to muster up some spiel about how she doesn’t have a boyfriend and make it entirely convincing by the way.” he retorts. 

you heave a sigh, taking a note that this is your point – the one where you have to comfort him, for taking the dig into his ego. you reach forward, placing your hands on his cheeks and softly rubbing back and forth with your thumbs, the way you had done hundreds of times in the dark before the two of you drifted off to sleep, and smile at him. 

“i have a boyfriend. and he means so, so much to me that i want to retain our relationship exactly the way it is, exactly the way he wants it. with privacy, with none of our overbearing coworkers knowing, because i know you’re more private than most people. it’s a price i’m willing to pay – or not even, because it doesn’t burden me at all to do something you want – not when you mean so much to me. so much so, that i’ll even muster up my middle school drama classes to keep the ruse going.” you offer. 

sukuna smiles, leaning forward to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. 

“it’s not that i like privacy. i would like to shout it from the fucking rooftops that you’re my girlfriend, that i’m pretty convinced you’re my soulmate and that you’re made for me, and all of that stupid, disgusting sappy shit that’s in those movies that you like to watch all the time. i just…like to keep you all to myself. it’s not that i don’t want people to know, i just like to keep this where i want it. between just you and me.” 

he reaches for your hand, circling his fingers around your wrist, and guiding you to place your palm on his chest, right over his beating heart, which thrums under your touch. 

“this is all yours. i’d like to just keep you there, without anyone else’s input. or opinions. and we can keep it that way while people know, but we…” 

you smile in recognition. 

“we don’t need to divulge to anyone else. it’s none of their business anyways, is it?” 

sukuna gives you a grin, smiling from ear to ear, the way you’ve only seen in the private confines of your apartment, as you reach forward, and press one last consolation kiss to his cheek, before everyone else trickles in to see the very singular display of affection the two of you would ever share.

--

“How is that crazy?” you defend. 

“Well, for starters, they’re five years old. The only thing they care about is what they’re eating for dinner in a few hours. And when we’re going to put Bluey on.” 

You frown. 

“I’m not saying that Marco’s about to propose marriage. Or that he’s like…sincerely in love with her. But…I can just tell, Eren. He likes her more than everyone else. Favors hers whenever he gets an opportunity to. Because he likes her.”  you emphasize. 

“Connie sends Amal her over with gummy worms and chocolate for every playdate. If I were him, I’d like her more than everyone else too.” Eren responds, aggressively yanking the towel on the rack to emphasize his point, before he takes to drying the dishes that you’ve just washed. 

You sigh, as you turn your back towards the group of them, and lean your cheek against Eren’s bicep. He absentmindedly turns to his side to press a swift kiss to the top of your head, before he continues wiping the dishes down. And he takes a beat, almost for a full minute, before he sighs. 

“You really think that he likes her?” 

You smile. You knew that he was going to give in. 

“Yes.” you state. 

Eren shakes his head, almost like he’s giving some quiet consideration to the thought – that Marco really could like her, that it was a sincere possibility – before he turns to you. 

“I mean, you’re obviously not coming up with this out of nowhere. At least I hope you’re not. And it’s very clearly bothering you that I’m not entertaining this conversation, so go ahead and tell me the whole spiel that you prepared.” 

“Really?” 

“I never said that I was going to agree with you. I’m just saying that I know you’re not going to drop it and I want this whole thing to be over when they all leave later.” Eren responds. 

You give him a nod, choosing to ignore almost the entirety of his sentiment, as you move to his side and push up onto the counter. 

“First of all, he can have a crush.” you state. 

“Okay, I’m not negating the fact that he can have a crush. I just don’t think it’s anything you should be working yourself up over. Or that it even means anything.” Eren deadpans. 

You lightly smack him across the shoulder. 

“You’re insane. Our son having a crush on Connie’s daughter isn’t a big deal?” you whisper. 

In reality, it was the biggest deal. The biggest deal because it was something that you sincerely hoped for – a sweet childhood love, for your own kids. The fact that almost all of your kids' peers were the kids of friends of your own – Jean and Mikasa, Connie and Maryam – it was almost the perfect recipe to what you wanted. 

Good families. Real love. 

“It’s not a big deal when they don’t even know how to spell their own names. Or how to spell anything. And he doesn’t even like her.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“First of all, when they all got here today, he waited until Amal got here to start playing the board game. When I asked him why, he said that they wouldn’t stop the board game just for one person and he knew that she would feel left out, so he waited so that it would be two people who weren’t playing and they would have to stop.” 

Eren gives you a fake smile. 

“So he’s an empath. And Maya and Olivia could learn to be a little more inclusive. You should be proud I raised a kid that’s so considerate.” 

“Oh, you raised him all on your own?” you deadpan.

“I mean…” he jokes. 

You smack him with the spare towel. 

“Shut up. Maya’s…inconsiderateness comes from you.” 

“That’s not a word. And I’m just saying, Marco’s just being nice. Like he always is.” 

“Well, he didn’t do that for anyone else. I’ve actually never seen him turn down a game of Candy Land for anything.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Be serious. Do you remember the meltdown he had when you accidentally cleaned the game he had set up last week?” you add. 

“Yes, but…” 

“And he always asks. He even asked when we walked over here if Amal was going to be coming, because he wanted to play with her.” 

Eren shakes his head. 

“That’s so inconsequential. You can’t be serious.” 

“Why are you so against the idea?” you state. 

Eren sets the plate down before turning to face you and lifting his freezing cold hands to cup your face. His eyes look particularly bright, even in the dim light, and it nearly makes you forget what he’s saying for a split second. 

“Look, it would be really cute. You know, Connie’s daughter, our son. But that’s just the thing. It’s too cute. The thought of the two of them together is too good – especially given how excited that it would make you and Connie – and I don’t want you getting your hopes up. Or Connie for that matter. Especially before they learn their numbers. And how to spell their own names. And what colors are.” 

You sigh. 

“I know. I just am excited. And I just thought it was really sweet, all the stuff that he was doing. You know the gummy worms that she brought? Like the two sided, colored ones? She said that she liked the blue and red ones so he took them all out of his pack and left them for her.” you murmur. 

“And?” 

“And almost all of the ones that he had were blue and red. It was sweet. You know, to give that up when it was his favorite candy and pretend like it wasn’t just so he could have it.” 

Eren smiles, maybe for the first time in the entire conversation. You can’t help but lean back and give him a confused look, one that he clocks almost too quickly – with widened eyes – before he immediately lets go and returns back to wiping the dishes around. 

“What was that?” you ask. 

“What was what?” 

“That. That thing you just did.” 

“I didn’t do anything, sweetheart. Drop it.” Eren responds. 

“You definitely did. You like…smiled. Like you know something. Did Marco say something to you?” 

Eren scoffs. 

“As if that mama’s boy would share something with me that he didn’t tell you.” Eren deadpans. 

The two of you drop the conversation as Teddy strolls into the room from his baseball practice with Grace at his side, the former hanging his baseball bag against the hook, as he gives you a slight wave. Grace is more expressive than Teddy, coming up to at least give you the smallest half hearted hug, before she runs off and joins Olivia, who has been patiently waiting for her arrival, in the main room. 

“How was practice?” you ask. 

“Good. Just sore.” Teddy responds, as he scoots to your side to wash his hands. 

“Did you talk to Sukuna and Lana?” Eren asks. 

Teddy shakes his head, earning him an annoyed look from Eren. 

“I told you to call. You know they do miss you when they go on trips like this?” Eren retorts. 

“Yes, yes, I know, I know.” 

“Leave him alone, Eren. He’ll call when he goes upstairs, right?” you ask. 

Teddy gives you a nod, before making his way over to the fridge. You turn and give Eren a glare, one that he dismisses entirely. He had a penchant for getting on Teddy’s back whenever Lana and Sukuna left for a trip, something that annoyed Teddy more than anything else. 

“What are you guys arguing about?” Teddy asks, as you note the faint streaks of the black paint from his practice melting down his face. 

You reach for one of the clean towels when he retreats back to your side with a sandwich in his hands, before reaching for his cheek and wiping the lines off. You can tell that he’s annoyed by his first attempt since he tries to move away, before giving up entirely and letting you wipe the marks off. 

“We aren’t arguing about anything.” Eren states. 

“We aren’t. He’s just being weird and not telling me something.” you respond. 

“What do you mean?” Teddy asks. 

“I don’t know. We were talking about something and he quite literally froze up, let go of me, and then went back to cleaning off the dishes.” 

Teddy gives you a weird look as you let go of his cheeks, before he pushes up on the counter, and dangles his legs off the end. 

“Hm. What were you guys talking about?” 

“Don’t tell him. You’re going to spread a rumor.” Eren responds. 

“Oh, shut up. He’s not a gossip.” you respond. 

“He isn’t. But his parents are.” 

“His parents are in Switzerland for the next week. I’m sure he’ll forget by tomorrow.” you defend. 

“Yeah, what’s your deal, Eren? Just tell me.” Teddy retorts. 

Eren rolls his eyes, before you turn to Teddy. 

“I think that Marco has a crush on Amal.”

Teddy narrows his eyes at you. 

“That’s it? I could have told you that last week. And my parents said that a month ago, Eren.” 

“What?” Eren asks. 

“They did?” you add. 

Teddy gives you a halfhearted nod, as he reaches for an apple from the basket, and takes a particularly loud bite. 

“Mhm. Do you remember that three legged race thing at Gracie’s sixth birthday? He suddenly didn’t want to play anymore when Amal wanted to partner with James.” 

“Oh my god, do you think she likes James?” you respond. 

“They’re five. And who would like Jean’s kid over Marco? He’s a menace.” Eren deadpans. 

“James is four, Eren. He’s just as cute as Jean, don’t let your guard down.” you retort. 

“Let my guard up for what? You’re acting like we’re playing a football game.....and since when did you think Jean was cute?” 

“Eren. Objectively, he is very good looking. You can’t be serious.” 

“Leaving that aside, they’re five years old.” Eren repeats. 

Teddy rolls his eyes. 

“Okay, you can’t really play an age card, Eren. You’ve been in love with your wife since you were a pre-teen.” 

“Pre-teen is different from toddler.” Eren defends. 

Teddy rolls his eyes. 

“No one is saying he’s going to propose marriage. It’s just a crush. They’re little kids.” Teddy adds. 

“Thank you! This is what I’ve been saying the entire time. Then he just had to start being weird when I brought up the candy thing. Have you noticed that he always gives her his favorite candy and just pretends like he doesn’t like it so he can’t have it?” 

Teddy snorts. 

“Oh, yeah. He may look like Y/N, but that’s your son, alright.” Teddy responds. 

You lean back. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask. 

“Teddy.” Eren warns. 

“You know. The frosting and cake thing.” Teddy responds. 

“What frosting and cake thing?” you retort, pressing him on. 

It seems that Teddy seems to read the situation too quickly – mainly from the fact that you’re pressing him on and that Eren’s trying to make his best effort to prevent him from doing that – and gives in. 

“You know Eren doesn’t actually like the cake part of cakes? He likes the frosting. He even used to eat it like raw from the can, of those like synthetic ones that you can find at the store.” Teddy responds. 

You scoff. 

“No, he doesn’t. He likes the cake part. That’s why we always share and he eats the cake and I eat the frosting. So we don’t waste it.” 

Teddy smiles. 

“No, he really doesn’t. Ask my mom. He used to eat like an insane amount when he used to live with us, you know, back then.” 

You turn to Eren, whose cheeks are slightly dusted pink. Guilty – like you’ve caught him in the act. 

“And what? You just lie and pretend like you like the cake?” 

Eren shrugs. 

“What do you mean? You’ve been eating it this entire time and just pretending?” you repeat.

“Yeah.” 

“Who does that? I mean, what’s the point?” 

Teddy pushes off the counter, switching the hand the apple is in, to sling his arm around your shoulder. He looks right at you, an almost mischievous grin on his face, as he leans closer. 

“He does it to make you happy. Obviously.” 

You slump your shoulders down. 

“Eren, there’s enough cake to go around.” 

“I like sharing!” he defends. 

“We can share other things. You don’t have to eat cake when you don’t like it.” you defend. 

Teddy shakes his head at your side. 

“You know, being your partner in life is basically his entire shtick. And apparently, it also applies to your choice of dessert. You should be happy you’ve found someone so devoted to your joy, Y/N.” 

You narrow your eyes at Eren, who gives you an incredulous shrug. Teddy gives the two of you one last grin, and a swift kiss to your cheek, before he takes his backpack that he left at the door and treks up the stairs. 

“You know, he’s been giving a lot of attitude lately.” 

“He’s a teenager. That’s his whole shtick lately.” you defend. 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Are you really upset about this cake thing?” 

You deflate, before looping your arms around his neck, and looking up at him. You can tell that the motion makes him smile – brightly enough that you can see his dimples – and narrow your eyes at him. 

“You really don’t like cake?” 

“I hate it. Almost every single thing that you’ve ever said about cake is something that I agreed with.” 

“Then don’t eat it!” 

Eren shakes his head. 

“Well, I’m used to it now. And we’re not going to back out of sharing cake – which is our shtick – because we’ve been doing it for so long.” 

“That is not our shtick.” 

“So giving up your preferences for someone else is only cute when Marco does it?” Eren asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Obviously it’s cute when you do it. You’ve been doing it since…since we were filming and I never even noticed.” 

“That’s kind of the point, sweetheart.” 

You shake your head. 

“Well, I have tons of secret romantic gestures that I do all the time too.” you defend. 

Eren laughs. 

“Are you trying to one up me?” 

“No! I actually do have secret romantic gestures that I do.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Yes, I do! How would you know?” 

Eren shakes his head. 

“Trust me, I know.” 

“They’re secret. That’s the whole point – that you have no idea that they’re even happening.” 

Eren reaches up, attentively tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear, before giving your ear a quick pinch. 

“Trust me. There isn’t anything that you can’t keep a secret from me, and I love that about you.” 

You cross your hands over your chest. 

“Yeah. You should be more like me. Keeping secrets is really bad taste. Keeping secrets from your life partner is really bad taste.” you retort, emphasizing every last word. 

Eren gives you a full bodied laugh. 

“Okay, life partner. I can make no promises, but I’ll try.” 

--

ten years later - homecoming night 

The second you unlock the door to the house, Marco all but rustles past Eren on the porch through the door, and bounds up the stairs as quickly as he can.

The resounding sound of his bedroom door slamming shut is heard before you can even turn all the lights to the house or hang the keys back onto their hook, and it sends an unnerving feeling down your spine. 

“I thought he was just being quiet.” you murmur. 

Eren frowns. 

“Me too, sweetheart. Thought he was just tired from all the dancing that he did.” he whispers back. 

The two of you seem to have the same thought, almost instantaneously, as you look over to your left where Maya’s standing, notably and uncharacteristically quiet as she hangs her coat up on the rack.

It seems that she’s picked up on the thought that the two of you have had – that interrogating her is the best way to go – so she opts for an awkward salute and darts away to the kitchen. 

You and Eren spare each other a look, mentally noting that something definitely happened to Marco at the dance and agreeing that she’s keeping whatever it is to herself, before following after her into the kitchen.

She’s fast with it – already yanking the loaf of bread out of the case and reaching for the jar of Nutella – as you take her side and Eren walks away to get her a plate. 

“Hi Miss Maya.” 

“Hi Mom.” she responds, dragging out the syllables. 

“How was the dance?” you ask. 

Maya shrugs. 

“Good. The DJ was kind of bad. Someone spiked the punch. The dance was in an aquarium if you can believe it, so we spent most of the time walking around and looking at everything.” 

Eren brings a plate from the cabinet and sets it down in front of Maya, before quickly wrestling the jar from her and tasking himself with making the sandwich, before gesturing for you to attempt to ask again behind her back.

Eren’s always particularly cautious when it comes to these things – approaching the kids about personal matters because he was always so unsure of what to say. 

“Is there any way we can like…do something to preserve it?” she asks. 

“The corsage?” you ask. 

“Yeah. I just wanted to see if I could keep it. Since it’s the first one I’ve ever gotten and everything.” 

You smile. 

“I can do that. Like a pressed flower thing with the petals if that’s okay? And we can put the ribbon on the wrist in a little glass case with the flowers.” you ask. 

Maya gives you a nod, one that you return, as you set the corsage aside on the table. 

“So. Who gave you that? Must be someone special if you want to keep it.” Eren asks. 

Maya glares at Eren.

“My friends and I all got matching ones. And I just wanted to keep it because it was like…my first dance ever, you know? And I know that it’s special to get to go to one.” Maya states. 

“I’m just teasing, sweet pea. No need to get all upset over it.” Eren states. 

You note that her cheeks glow pink at being caught exaggerating over a simple comment, as you shoot Eren a look to leave her alone, before taking the corsage from her and setting it to the side. 

Eren takes a beat. 

“But why’s it so special, Maya?” 

He clearly didn’t take the hint. She takes a bite of the sandwich before she gives the two of you a halfhearted shrug. 

“I don’t know. You guys never got to go to a school dance together. Or school for that matter.” 

“We went to school, Maya.” Eren deadpans. 

“She means real school. You know, with school dances and prom and homecoming games and stuff. You’re right. It is very special. That was one of the things that I felt like I missed out on the most when I moved back home and had a break from acting, that I didn’t get to do normal things like other people because I picked something else.” you respond. 

You sigh, before pushing the thought away all together.

And abandon all attempts to beat around the bush, only because the thought of Marco sitting alone in his room upset, seems to make your stomach more uncomfortable and unnerved as time goes on.

That and the fact that Eren and Maya could easily argue about the dance for another hour. 

“You seemed like you had fun though, which is good to hear. We can’t really say the same about someone else, can we?” 

Maya frowns. 

“Please don’t ask. I don’t want to talk about it when it’s his thing to tell and…” 

“So something did happen?” Eren asks. 

Maya groans. 

“Dad.” 

“We should know! Just so we can help him out.” Eren responds. 

Maya shakes her head. 

“That’s like sibling code. He said that he didn’t want to talk about it so I don’t want you guys to go up there and start giving him a lecture about how things will work out and love exceeds all boundaries and stuff and that everything is forgivable with time and all that.” 

You and Eren spare each other a wide eyed glance. Only because there’s so much in the statement to unpack that you can’t even pick what it is that you want to respond to first. 

“Just because it was true for us?” you repeat. 

“Forgiveable with time?” Eren defends. 

Maya gives the two of you an exasperated look – like the premise she’s provided the two of you is completely reasonable. 

“We don’t lecture, Maya.” Eren adds. 

“You do. And…and I’m sure Marco gets it and he knows that things can work out, but sometimes they don’t. Especially when the person you like doesn’t like you back and you say some things that aren’t so nice…so just…leave him alone. It’s not something that you guys can understand.” 

You frown. 

“He likes someone?” 

“It’s definitely something that we can understand, Maya.” Eren defends. 

Maya deflates. You elbow Eren in the side – trying to signal that this is not the time for him to be having this conversation or getting offended – before turning back to Maya. You spare her one glance, and just as you expected, she immediately folds and divulges what the two of you have asked of her. 

“It’s Amal. Don’t talk to Uncle Connie about this because we all kind of agreed that the last thing we want you all to do is start fighting with each other.” 

You feel an uncomfortable pit in your stomach. 

“Would anything warrant us fighting with each other?” you ask. 

Maya sighs. 

“Look. Amal said some things to Marco and he said some things back after the fact. She went to the dance with her boyfriend tonight, which…which is why Marco’s upset. He knew that she had one but he didn’t really think that it was that serious, but they seemed like they really liked each other and they were together all night so it obviously made him upset.” 

You can’t help but feel your heart drop in your chest, as you give Maya a quiet nod, and Eren’s particularly silent at your side.

You can barely even process what it was that she said – the fact that your sneaking suspicion that he liked her was correct, that your other suspicion that she liked him back was almost completely wrong – and the single thing that you wanted to protect Marco from was the one thing that happened to him. 

Eren glares. 

“And?” 

“And what?” Maya repeats. 

“What did they say that was so bad?” 

Maya sighs. 

“Don’t say anything. Please.” Maya states. 

“We won’t, Maya.” Eren responds. 

“Amal’s boyfriend basically told Amal beforehand that he’s not really comfortable with how close they are with each other, especially since she told him that she kind of used to like Marco when they were in middle school.” 

“I knew it!” you whisper. 

“That’s not exactly helpful. Keep going.” Eren responds. 

“He asked her to keep her distance. She told him and they just got into a disagreement. Marco was confused why it was such a problem and she…she got so frustrated that she mentioned it was because she used to like him.” Maya offers. 

Maya pauses. 

“He was upset. Reasonably so. Amal told him that if he was ever serious enough to make a move, it wouldn’t be a problem. That he can’t be upset when everything that was happening was because he was to chicken to ever be serious about anything. Then he responded and told her that it wasn’t fair that she expected that of him – that she never even really cared him in the first place if she was able to throw their entire friendship away for something so stupid. That she was just as afraid of him to let anything happen for real.” 

“Oh.” 

“How heated was it?” Eren asks. 

“Pretty bad. I’m pretty sure that they’re not going to talk for a while. And she’ll probably distance from me too. But don’t let it affect you and Uncle Connie. That’s why we weren’t even planning on mentioning it.” 

Eren frowns. 

“You don’t have to sit here managing our feelings. We’re adults. And sure, it might feel like you’ve put us in an awkward position, but you’re all your own people. Don’t ever feel like you can’t come to us for anything.” 

Maya sighs, a breath of relief. 

“You know, you don’t have to stop talking to Amal if you don’t want to. She’s your friend too.” you offer. 

Maya shakes her head. 

“It feels wrong. I just want to be there for Marco, not make anything too awkward for him.” she responds. 

Eren walks up to Maya’s side, before sticking his hands firm on her shoulders, and visibly squeezing hard. 

“It might be hard, but you know he’ll appreciate it later on. That you’re here for him.” 

“It’s not hard at all actually. We’ve been together since the start. Kind of hard to imagine it any other way.” she murmurs. 

Maya gives the two of you a quiet nod, before pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks, and retreating to her own room with the half finished sandwich in your hand. You and Eren turn towards each other, and you can’t help but bury your head into his neck, as you roll over the thoughts in your head. 

That Marco liked Amal. That maybe he never even stopped liking her in the first place – from your first inklings of his interest as a kid – and now she was with someone else. That in some shape or form – his heart was crushed right now. That he could possibly be sitting there biting the words that he said. 

“Is it bad that I want to cry right now? And it didn’t even happen to me?” you murmur. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“Is it bad that I want to assault Amal’s boyfriend?” 

“Yes. He’s fifteen.” 

“Hey. I defended your thing.” 

“Well, I didn’t say that I wanted to assault a child, Eren.” you murmur. 

The two of you quietly laugh, before the heaviness settles back into the air, that it feels particularly thick and you can’t even stomach it, before you pull back to look at him. 

“Don’t worry. This is my territory.” Eren offers. 

“What do you mean?”

“Saying something you don’t mean. When you want to say something else entirely? It has me written all over it.” 

The feeling is so foreign – so foreign that it feels like you can’t even access that part of you anymore – the one that had pain that was associated with Eren at one point. He was so cemented into your life, quite literally in the center of it at this point, that it felt impossible to access that part of your brain, the one that remembered exactly what this feeling felt like. 

“Maya thinks we lecture about love? What exactly did she say again?” he whispers. 

“She said we give lectures about how things always work out and love exceeds all boundaries and stuff just because it was true for us.” you repeat. 

Eren narrows his eyes. 

“That’s so ridiculous.” 

“Imagine saying that to us when we were separated. Or filming together and too uncomfortable to talk to each other. It is true, but it definitely didn’t always feel that way. And I remember, it was particularly annoying when everyone was trying to convince me of the fact when that felt like that was the last thing to be true.” 

You sigh. 

“Maybe we should just go sit there with him. So he knows that he’s not alone.” 

You smile. 

“Yeah. No lecture.” 

The two of you quietly tiptoe back upstairs, offering a quiet knock against his door, before you peek in. Marco has all of his lights shut off, except for the lamp that’s on his bedside table, and his coat is discarded against his bed. 

He clearly didn’t attempt to change into more comfortable clothes, still clad in his button up shirt, as Eren reaches for the coat and puts it in a hanger, and you move around to the side that Marco’s facing.

You note that there’s fresh tear streaks on his cheek, falling horizontally from the way he’s lying down, as you reach forward to wipe the wetness away from his face. 

“Hi Marco. You mind if we join you?” you whisper. 

“I’m not talking about it.” Marco clarifies. 

“That’s fine. We were just going to lie down next to you. That’s all.” 

Marco flits his eyes between the two of you, Eren now standing at your side with his hand on your shoulder, as he gives the two of you a begrudging nod. The two of you give each other a halfhearted smile as he scoots over – Eren taking the left and you taking the right. 

It’s uncomfortable for the three of you to squish together on his bed, especially with how tall Marco’s getting, but you scoot in and intertwine your hand with his. You note that Eren’s pushing the hair away from his face, that he’s attentively focused on fixing it the same way that he does to you, and you absentmindedly squeeze Marco’s hand three times as you eye all of his baseball trophies and medals on the wall. 

Marco eventually returns the gesture and squeezes your hand back – one that luckily he knows the exact meaning of – and it makes your heart clench.

And it takes Marco twenty minutes, twenty minutes before he even divulges anything, and it nearly jolts you when he speaks again.

“I think I love Amal.” 

You pinch your lips together. 

“I know.” you respond. 

“She doesn’t love me back. Or she…she did and doesn’t anymore? I don’t know. She just doesn’t like me anymore.” Marco adds. 

Eren sighs. 

“We know.” 

Marco’s quiet. The two of you are quiet too, only because you don’t know what to say – can’t muster up the right string of words that could even provide the simplest solace. 

“Do you guys know how I realized that I liked her?” Marco whispers. 

The two of you shake your heads. 

“Sometimes, I’d walk into the room. You know, at Uncle Connie’s house, or at Teddy’s engagement party and…and I just found myself looking for her. I’d always walk into the room and look around, like…like frantically trying to find where it was that she was. Wasn’t really comfortable until I knew where she was for sure. It was the only place that I wanted to be. She’d ask me to get a drink or have to get up and leave to say hi to someone and I would just feel it, like in my gut, always aware of where she was and waiting for her to come back. Sometimes it felt like she was the only one there or she…” 

“She was all of the love in the room.” Eren adds. 

You can feel your heart drop in your stomach. 

“Just like you’ve always said. I get it now.” Marco finishes.  

You lean your head against his shoulder. 

“I’m very sorry, Marco. There’s no…nothing we can say to make it better and trust me, that…that kills us that we can’t fix this for you. Especially when we know how bad it hurts.” you murmur. 

Marco gives you one teary eyed laugh. It’s enough to make Eren smile, from what you can see in the dim light, as he returns to raking his fingers through Marco’s hair. 

“You’re funny.”

“What’s funny about that?” you deadpan. 

Marco shakes her head. 

“You don’t have to try to fix this. If anything, I’m sorry if I make things awkward for you and Uncle Connie. But this was going to happen to me at some point.” Marco responds. 

“Don’t worry about Connie.” Eren responds. 

“Yeah, I know, I just mean…” 

“No, really. Don’t worry about him. We’re all going to be just fine.” Eren adds. 

“Plus. What do you mean you knew that would happen to you?” you ask.

Marco shrugs. 

“Heartbreak. It was always going to happen to me. I mean, you guys haven’t really dated people other than each other, not technically anyways, and you guys still had your fair share of it, so…don’t know why I’d be spared from it.” Marco adds. 

You don’t get it. 

“I guess.” 

“I mean what I’m trying to say is that it’s…it’s okay that she doesn’t love me back. It was a long shot anyways.” 

Eren frowns. 

“Who said it was a long shot?” 

Marco shrugs. 

“It just feels that way. I’ve never even liked anyone else or even dated someone or held their hand. The premise of someone even liking me back feels like a long shot…that you can like someone, that they actually like you back, that it would actually work out. I feel like there’s so many factors, so many things that have to go right, for it to even work out in the first place and start dating. Then when you start dating, there’s other things that can go wrong – like someone moves away for college, you start liking someone else, producers think that you two shouldn’t be together for your careers.” 

You and Eren narrow your eyes at him and note the smallest whisper of a smile on his face. 

“You know. That stuff. But I just have to figure out what I’m going to do next, I guess. Especially since, I said some shit things to her.” 

Eren hums in response. 

“I’ve said worse.” 

Marco turns over to you. 

“Think she’ll ever forgive me?” 

You smile. 

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s impossible. There was a time when forgiving Eren seemed impossible too.” 

Marco sighs. 

“Even when I told her that I never even loved her in the first place? That it was unfathomable that I ever even felt that way?” 

You pinch your lips into a line. 

“Oh, yeah. We kept going at it for a little bit when Maya walked away.” Marco adds. 

“Time will help. Growing up a little and getting…getting new perspective on it will help both of you too.” Eren asks. 

“Kind of have to talk to her at some point, right? We’re basically family.” 

“You won’t have to see her all the time. We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with..” Eren responds. 

“There’s other fish in the sea too, you know? You can meet people at other places. You know, when you go play college ball…and then get signed to the major league…and then become a hall of famer.” you joke. 

Marco shakes his head, smiling at how preposterous your comments are – at least to him. 

“You haven’t done anything yet, kid. So much to see and so many more people to meet. There’s still a lot to do.” Eren adds. 

“It’s pretty rare for most people to get it right on their first try.” you offer. 

Marco smiles. 

“You guys just get to be the lucky exception to that.” 

“As long as this doesn’t deter you from ever trying again. To be with someone, to love someone. Just promise us that you won’t ever shut it out if it’s with someone else.” Eren states. 

Marco smiles. 

“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.” Marco repeats. 

The two of you smile. 

“It always seems to come back to him, when it comes to me. The other Marco, the one that told the two of you that.” 

You and Eren pause.

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know. I just feel like he always comes up, that I know so much about him, that I feel like I knew him. I obviously didn’t, but it just…he’s always brought up. By you guys, or Uncle Jean, and Connie that it’s just…I don’t know.” 

“Well, you never realize how important or impactful someone is until they leave. You don’t even realize how important certain moments are until they pass by and they’re gone.” you respond. 

Eren instinctively reaches for your free hand, across the way. You shoot him a halfhearted smile, and he squeezes your hand hard. 

“That’s not true.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I mean, I know it’s true for you. Because you didn’t think that he was going to leave the way that he did. But I can realize the value of certain moments, as they happen you know. I know that in this moment in time that things can really only go up from here, now that this door is closed forever. And I’ll always remember that you guys were here with me, that I wasn’t alone.” Marco responds. 

You and Eren exchange a smile, before offering a breathless laugh. You reach over and flick him on the cheek – that earns you a laugh from Marco – before glaring at him. 

“What’s so funny, asshole? That was so sweet.” you state. 

Eren shrugs. 

“I just can’t believe this is our kid. If it were us, we’d be catastrophizing to the next level.” Eren states. 

“Writing depressing songs. Performing them in front of each other.” you add. 

Marco laughs. 

“That’s true. But you guys still do that, even when things aren’t even that serious. I mean the fact that you’re crawling into my bed with me right now is like…next level dramatic. That’s just how you guys are naturally.” 

Marco takes a beat. 

“And maybe it’s just proof that it won’t be like this forever. I think when it really came down to it, you both held out hope when it really mattered. Even if you didn’t say it out loud.” 

--

ten years later - midseason 

Marco’s able to make his way to the hospital on the sixth day. It’s when Connie’s mellowed out for the most part – certainly less weak from how the infection he had the week prior, the slightest bit more lively – and when the rest of you are able to breathe the smallest sigh of relief. 

He’s able to stomach cracking a few jokes, watch a few baseball games. And the rest of you rinse and repeat the same routine. Make trips back home. Get some sleep in between driving here and back. Before starting it all over again. 

And avoiding, desperately avoiding, thinking about the bombshell that the doctor dropped a few days ago. At least not until he was out of here for good. 

“How was your sleep?” Amal asks. 

Connie shrugs. 

“Worst I’ve ever had. But it’s okay.” 

Amal smiles, reaching forward to intertwine her hands in with his, and lean her head against the railing of the bed. 

“Did the Phillies win?” Connie asks. 

Amal shakes her head. 

“Did Marco start?” 

She shakes her head again. 

Connie turns over to where you and Eren are settled, a thin blanket spread over your legs and the seats so small that you’re both uncomfortably pressed against the wall. Eren’s slumped against you, making a horrible attempt to keep up with the book that you’re reading, as you elbow him in the side. 

“What’s going on? Why aren’t they playing him?” Connie asks. 

You shake your head. 

“He has to take breaks. With pitching and all.” you murmur. 

“He hasn’t pitched in a week. His arm is just fine.” Connie retorts. 

In his first year out of college, nearly three years ago, Marco signed with the Philadelphia Phillies as a free agent. He’s been with the team ever since, renewing his contract each season – and consequently, spending almost the entire year, from February to September, halfway across the country. 

And as a Los Angeles native, it took everything out of Connie to root for another team but he put it all aside as Marco’s biggest fan. Something he took serious pride in, as the first person in earnest to tell him to consider playing baseball for the major leagues in high school. 

Advice he gave him to deal with his fallout with Amal. Devoting himself entirely, to something that was just his.

Baseball.

“I think he’s just taking a break right now, Connie.” 

Connie nearly goes slack jawed. 

“Who takes breaks in the major leagues? Is he injured? Is he going to need another Tommy John surgery?” 

You shut the book, making the gesture abrupt so as to note your exasperation. With the way Connie acted, you’d be convinced he was the coach. 

“He’s okay, Connie. I promise.” Eren offers. 

“Plus, if it was something serious, he’d tell you. Right guys?” Amal offers. 

You and Eren give her an affirmative nod. She shoots the two of you an appreciative smile – since she was always particularly too stressed that Connie worked himself up too much and made himself more tired – before turning back to him. 

You eye your watch. 

“Eren and I are going to go down for some coffee. Want to come with, Amal?” 

“Sure. You’re fine here, Dad?” 

“Maryam’s here. Go ahead.” 

The three of you give Connie a halfhearted wave goodbye, before making your way down the hallway, nearly shuddering from the drafty, cold air outside the room. You’re all particularly silent as you make your way over the the elevator, Eren absentmindedly reaching for your hand to stay standing, and the three of you file into the elevator in a line. 

“Are you excited to surprise your dad?” you ask. 

Amal nearly jumps up at the question, eyes wide, before looking over at you. 

“Yes. Yeah, I…I can’t believe Marco would do something like that. My dad’s going to be so happy.” 

Over the course of the past year, Amal and Marco, albeit very slowly, reconnected. 

Connie, now reaching the end stages of his second successful transplant, was slowly deteriorating. Routine colds became serious infections and it was starting to feel like it did back then. 

Connie was in the hospital more often than he wasn’t. Walking too slow, too tired to talk. Exhausted everytime you saw him. 

And Marco – Marco who adored Connie as a mentor more than anything – couldn’t help but be distracted the more time he spent away. 

The only thing he could do was ask. Again and again – how Connie was doing, if he was able to stay up to watch his game, how he was feeling today, what changed in his treatment plan. And the only person who could coherently answer, who knew the answer as soon as it was relayed to everyone else, was Amal. 

He wasn’t satisfied with the answers you and Eren gave him. He felt better knowing that it was coming from someone who was by his side at all times. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Amal. Maybe not originally, but it definitely did now. Not that his love for Connie was displaced, but from the conversations you were able to overhear in passing, it sounded more like twelve year old Amal and Marco giggling, than Marco just being plain old concerned. 

And midseason, Marco decided to pivot entirely. Granted, you figured it was a mainly rash decision that came from the news that you received last week – that Connie wouldn’t be able to handle  another transplant – and was moving back home. 

Since he decided that he was going to sign on with another team to be able to spend more time here. It was a rash decision, one that Amal constantly talked about not understanding, and you weren’t exactly sure why it was bothering her so much. Why she was so pressed to know what his thought process was when he did it.  

“It’s been a while since you’ve seen him in person, right?” Eren asks. 

Amal nods. 

“I think Teddy’s anniversary party. Two years ago? He’s always really busy these days.” 

“I mean, the Phillies aren’t even in the same league as any of the teams out here. Has to be something special for him to come out here outside of his routine.” you offer. 

“I know he’s going to be really happy that he’s coming home. He misses you guys. Talks about you all the time.” 

Eren looks over at you, an almost devious look in your eyes. You shoot him a warning glare. 

“How would you know that?” Eren asks. 

Amal’s eyes go wide. 

“What?” 

Eren shrugs. 

“That he misses us?” 

You roll your eyes. Eren was reserved when you brought up the idea when they were five years old – that they could like each other. At twenty-five, it seems that you and Eren had seemed to switch positions entirely. And become an instigator apparently.

But you were just being conservative, that making anything awkward between the two of them would just make things worse at this point. You would also make it a point to argue that Eren was just being overly hopeful. 

“And here I thought he was just calling to check in about Connie.” Eren states. 

You elbow Eren in the side. Amal’s cheeks flush pink. 

“He does! No really, I swear, we spend most of our time talking about him. Other stuff just comes up sometimes. We’re just…catching up after a long time.” Amal offers. 

“Must feel like nothing’s changed, right?” Eren asks. 

Amal smiles. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it makes me kind of sad we fizzled out afte everything that happened, when it was inconsequential, but I guess there’s no point being upset about it now.” 

“Eren. Leave her alone, please.” you respond. 

Amal shoots you a smile. 

“Okay, fine. But just saying – don’t think it’s as inconsequential as you’re making it out to be.” Eren responds. 

The elevator whirs to a stop, the doors opening up, as the three of you make your way down the hall to the cafeteria, where Marco and Maya were waiting. You shoot Eren a glare at your side, one that he ignores, as you turn around the corner, and spot the two of them sitting by the window. 

You note that Amal tucks her hair behind her ears before walking up, as Eren reaches over and pokes Maya’s cheek to get her attention. She immediately swats him off, annoyed by the gesture, as you turn to give him a big grin. 

“Are you excited to be home, Marco?” you ask. 

Marco responds with a hug, one that’s painful at this point with the amount of time he spends working out, as you attempt to tap out of the hug on his shoulder. He immediately pulls back, shooting you an apologetic look, as you shake your head at him. 

Maya rolls her eyes, before turning over to Amal and giving her a quick hug. It’s at that moment that Marco seems to have realized that Amal’s come down with you and Eren, and gives her an almost ear splitting smile. 

“Is that you, Amo?” 

Amal very excited smile drops into a glare at him. 

“Don’t call me that.” she mumbles. 

“Call you what?” Marco asks, his tone almost sing-song. 

“Amo. We’re not two years old anymore. You’re old enough to pronounce my name.” 

Marco reaches forward, pinching the side of her cheek that she quickly swats off, before giving her a proper laugh. 

“But it’s just so much more fun that way.” Marco retorts. 

You and Eren shoot each other a look – mainly to confirm that the two of you are seeing the same thing – as you step back, looping your arms in with Maya’s. Amal takes the lead, Marco basically clininging to her side, as the three of you step in line behind back to the elevator. 

“So.” you start. 

“What’s the deal with that?” Eren murmurs, quiet enough that only the three of you are able to hear it.

Maya shakes her head and you swear there’s the smallest making of a smile on her face. 

“Don’t ask.” 

“So there is a deal with that? That we shouldn’t be asking about?” you whisper. 

Maya gives you an exasperated sigh. 

“I think they’re just catching up on lost time.” 

You shoot her one last look, before the five of you file down into the elevator this time around, as Marco teeters back and forth on the balls of his feet. A nervous habit – one he’s had since you were a kid. 

“You don’t have any reason to be nervous, Marco.” you state. 

“I’m not. I know I made the right choice.” Marco responds. 

“Why are you rocking back and forth then?” 

Marco shakes his head. 

“Just feels weird to be back. For good, you know?” 

“What do you mean for good?” Amal asks. 

“I signed a six year contract. I’m back home for good. At least for the time being.” Marco states. 

“Oh.” Amal murmurs. 

The elevator dings as it slowly stops and the five of you beeline down the hallway. You absentmindedly reach for Eren’s hand as you turn down the corner and enter the room again, noting that Jean and Mikasa arrived in the time that you spent downstairs. You shoot them a smile in recognition, before leaning against the wall. 

“I’m going to start needing a bigger room if you’re all planning on coming here so often.” Connie jokes. 

“You should start looking into options.” Marco states. 

Connie turns his head to the side, to note exactly who it was that says that, and immediately widens his eyes in shock. Mouth slightly parted and a frown on his face, before he looks around, almost like he’s checking if everyone else can see him too – to confirm, that yes, he really is here. 

Connie’s entirely distracted by the sight of Marco, mainly murmuring under his breath about how much he’s grown – something you entirely can’t believe on your own with the amount of training that he does – as he takes to feeling him up. 

“How’s your arm? You haven’t played in a while.” 

Marco pinches his lips into a smile. 

“Yeah, I’ve just been resting up.” Marco responds. 

“Resting for what?” Connie asks. 

Marco grins, so boyish that you see the four year old still in him. 

“My start as a Los Angeles Dodger.” 

Connie’s face drops into a frown. Connie looks around the room, mainly at the fact that the group of you can’t seem to contain your laughter at how shocked he is – for a second time – as he turns to you and Eren for confirmation. 

“Seriously.”  Eren confirms. 

You reach in your bag for the crumpled up jersey and throw it straight at him. 

“It’ll be official later today.” 

“I haven’t been playing for a few weeks since we were negotiating deals and all that.” Marco adds. 

“You’re switching to Los Angeles? Mid-season?” Connie asks. 

“Figured it was better to be close to home. I can see you more often and Maya when she’s around.” 

Marco takes a beat. 

“And someone has to deal with the crashout that Amo has almost ever week.” 

“Hey!” Amal responds, reaching forward to smack him. 

Connie looks down, before running hand hand over the letters on the jersey. 

“You did this for me?” he murmurs. 

Marco shrugs. 

“It’s no big deal.” 

Connie drops the jersey into his lap. 

“No big deal? You were doing amazing where you were, kid.” 

Marco shrugs. 

“And I’m sure I’ll do great here. Even better, since this is really where I want to be. No distractions, my family to support me. And best of all, I can be here for you. Almost as often as I can afford.” 

Connie frowns. 

“You did this for me?” 

“Sure did. Wouldn’t be anywhere without you guys.” 

Marco pauses and turns to Amal. 

“Every single one of you.” 

Needless to say, you and Eren spend at least two hours trying to deduce what that meant on the drive home. 

--

six months later 

You and Eren make your best attempt to ignore Marco and Amal shouting outside the door. It’s a task that proved to be particularly difficult – not only because they’re super loud, but also because it’s the first time they’ve argued in the six months since Marco’s return.

Of course it happens on the precipice of Connie having another surgery at the end of the week and, of course, right outside of Connie’s hospital room. 

From what you can see through the blinds, they’re both particularly angry, waving their hands around, pinching the bridges of their noses. Marco’s almost red in the face, Amal can barely barely keep eye contact with him, so much so, that it sneds a nervous wave through your stomach. 

“Should we intervene?” you murmur. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“They’re adults. They can handle this on their own.”

“Can they? It’s been twenty minutes of this.” 

“We can’t intervene.” Eren states, through clenched teeth.  

“Maybe they can handle this when he’s not in earshot? And about to wake up?” 

“I can hear them just fine.” Connie murmurs, eyes pinched shut as he stirs in his bed, his body visibly stiff as he moves in his bed. 

“Sorry, Con. Not sure what’s gotten into them.” you offer. 

“What are they arguing about?” Connie asks. 

Maryam shrugs. 

“None of us know. I could sense they’ve been off since the beginning of the week, since you got in here.” Maryam offers. 

“Does it seem serious?” Connie asks. 

You lean back. 

“Not sure. I mean, they haven’t argued since….since they stopped talking, all the way back then. At least to my knowledge.” you respond. 

It’s the first time the four of you address that – that Amal and Marco hadn’t talked for years, because they liked each other. It was an easy topic for the four of you to avoid, mainly in name of keeping the peace, but it always seemed to linger in the air.

Since they spent what felt like the entirety the last ten years refusing to be present, when the other was in attendance. 

Connie deflates, as he gestures for you to get them. You walk over and knock on the window loudly – enough to stop the two of them from arguing and look over – as you gesture for them to walk in.

They shoot each other one last warning glare, before joining you inside, the two of then notably quiet as they lean against the counter pushed against the wall. 

You walk over to the side of the bed and place a hand on Connie’s shoulder, noting that his skin is ice cold when you touch him. 

“How are you feeling though, Connie?” you ask. 

He shoots you a weak smile. 

“I would feel better if I got some more sleep.” Connie murmurs, shooting a warning glance to where Marco and Amal are standing. 

You watch as they both look down at the ground – Marco focusing on his untied laces and Amal nervously fidgeting with their hands – as they refuse to acknowledge what he’s said. 

“Amal. Come here.” Connie murmurs. 

You move out of the way, pushing the empty seat closer to the bed so that she can sit comfortably, as you take the spot that Amal was just occupying, and loop your arm in with Marco’s. 

“What’s your deal, kid?” you murmur. 

Marco shakes his head. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing, Marco.” 

You watch as Amal reaches over, intertwining her own fingers with Connie’s, as she reaches forward and squeezes his shoulder. 

“What are you guys fighting about?” Connie asks. 

“Nothing, Dad.” 

Connie shoots her a glare. 

“I just…I don’t appreciate you guys arguing like that.” 

“Trust me. We don’t have much fun doing it either.” Amal repsponds, sarcastically. 

Marco nearly breaks out into a smile. You note that he makes his best effort not to. 

Connie shakes his head. 

“I just…” 

Connie looks down, as he fidgets with the bracelet that’s hanging from her wrist. 

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t alienate or fight with the people around you. I understand that all of this can be stressful, but you’re going to need these people. Especially him, when he’s been here the entire time.” 

“I know. I know, I just…” 

Connie shakes his head. 

“It makes this easier for me. Knowing that the two of you are fine, that he’s going to be here for you, because it means you won’t be alone when I’m gone.” 

Amal’s face immediately drops. And at your side, Marco seems to tense up. 

“Dad. What are you…”

“We all know I really only have a few weeks left. Realistically. And while I know won’t get to see you finish graduate school or get married or anything…I feel better knowing that you’re surrounded by good people who will take care of you. People who took care of me when I was younger. If I had listened to them, I probably could have had more time with you.” 

You watch as Eren drops his gaze, focused on fidgeting with the bracelet clad around your wrist. 

“Don’t talk like that.” 

“You know it kills me that I won’t ever get to meet the person you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. At least let me have the solace that I know you’ll be in good company. That people will take care of you.”  

“You can’t be serious. Don’t talk like that.” she repeats.

Connie sighs. 

“It’s time for us to be serious.” 

Amal deflates before she looks back, teary eyed at Marco, who exasperatedly lifts his hands in the air. She closes her eyes, almost in silent recognition, before turning back towards Connie. 

“Dad.” 

Amal sighs. Marco straightens up at your side and pushes off the wall. He places his hand on Amal’s shoulder and squeezes. 

“We’re having a very heated conversation. But that’s just because we’re both very passionate, especially when we’re talking about you. We…are just fine. I’m not going anywhere.”  

Connie shakes his head. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s her. She has a tendency to alienate people when she shouldn’t. Let people walk away when they shoudn’t have.” Connie states. 

The comment is pointed. Pointed at enough at the one thing no one in the room ever seems to acknowledge. 

“Well, she can try as hard as she wants. I won’t be going anywhere, I swear.” Marco states. 

From where you’re standing, you watch as Marco looks down at Amal, eyes widened, as she vehemently shakes her head. You get a feeling that whatever he just said – whatever the two have been saying for the past few minutes – weren’t responses to Connie, and instead, a continuation of whatever they were doing outside. Just as heated as it was out there, as Connie turns to you and shoots you a confused glare. 

“Do you guys want to share your conversation with the rest of us?” Eren asks. 

“I think that would be very appreciated, wouldn’t it?” Maryam adds. 

Amal shoots Marco one last warning glare, before he takes a deep breath in. 

“Amal and I have been together since the end of last year. Almost eleven months. And she hasn’t wanted to tell any of you…because she’s scared that it’s going to make it real.” 

“What?” you ask. 

“I’m not scared it’s going to make it real. I just don’t want to divert attention away from my dad.” 

“You wouldn’t divert attention away from your dad. If you were listening, you would understand that it would probably make him really happy. And it would probably do you some good to not be living in a lie.” 

Amal shakes her head, almost exasperated. 

“I know it would make him happy. It would make all of them happy! But that’s just the point, we don’t even know where this is going, we can’t just back out of it when we don’t know! It’s not a lie – it’s an obstruction of truth to protect him. ” 

“What do you not know? How can you possibly not know?” Marco asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“How can you not know where this is going with me? Are you seriously still trying to sort your feelings out?” 

Amal pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“I don’t know where you’re going to be a year from now. That you won’t remember what happened years before and suddenly decide, you’re not about this. If this gets to hard for you.” 

“I’m about this! I’ve always been about this.” Marco defends. 

“Oh yeah? You could easily be spending what’s probably the highest point of your career outside this hospital celebrating. But you’re not. Because of me. You think that won’t catch up to you? You think you won’t resent me for it later? You’re not about this, because you don’t even understand where it’s going to go.” 

Marco shoots her one last glare, before reaching for his bag that’s lying across the counter, and reaches for a small velvet box that’s in the front pocket. He tosses the box over at her, his arms crossed over his chest, as he watches her open it up. You and Eren stand on your tiptoes to get a peek – a peek at a glittering diamond ring set in the box – as he raises his hands in the air. 

“I’ve always been about this. For months. You’re the one chickening out. You’re the one who doesn’t understand me.” Marco responds, before he pushes off the counter, and turns on his heel to exit from the door. 

You watch as Amal catches the box, entirely unphased by the fact that he’s stormed out o fht eroom, because she’s too busy staring down at the box, in what you’re assuming is disbelief. You and Eren shoot each other a look - your heads nearly spinning - before turning back to the group of them. 

“We’ll go after him. I think everyone here should just take a breather.” 

You and Eren – with Maya dragging behind on her heels – basically jog down the hall to catch up to Marco, who exits straight onto the patio of the hospital ward, and leans against the railing. The view below isn’t exactly pretty, a jammed street with loud honks, and the sun so bright that you’re all squinting your eyes. 

The three of you follow his lead, resting your limbs against the railing and resting your chins on top of your hands as you look down, at the people bustling by on the sidewalk. It’s quiet for some time – as you assume the rest of them are wrestling with the same thoughts that you are – except for Marco of course, who breaks the silence. 

“I wanted to tell you.” Marco offers. 

Eren sighs. 

“We can figure that much out, kid.” Eren responds. 

“She just didn’t want to mention it. It never seemed like a good time because we hadn’t seen each other in person for so long and then Uncle Connie was in surgery or it was an away week for me and I just…a lot of time kept passing by and before I knew it, it had been so long.” 

You smile. 

“We’re not upset with you.”  you add.  

“I know. That somehow makes it worse.” 

You turn over to Maya at your side, reaching to fix the flyaway hairs decorating her face behind her ears. 

“Did you know Maya?” you ask. 

She smiles. 

“I figured it out after the first month. Not much he can keep from me.” she murmurs softly. 

Marco presses his lips to the back of his hand. When he talks again, his voice comes out muffled. 

“What do you think I should do, Mom?” 

“You’re asking me?” 

Marco shrugs. 

“Seems like you were always the one who had to take a leap of faith. What do you think I should do?”

You smile. 

“Sleep on it.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

“Really? No, you should go for it, if that’s what you really want.” Marco murmurs. 

You all laugh, before you and Eren seem to have the same thought, and lean your heads against his shoulders. 

“If you wanted that advice, you should have asked, Eren.” 

“What do mean?” 

“He was the go-getter. Evne quietly, still doing something that took serious guts. But if you’re sincerely asking me, as someone who has doubts almost all the wya to the end, until it’s spelled out to me in simple letters, you should sleep on it. You don’t know how you’ll feel tomorrow in the morning. 

Eren smiles. 

“She’s right. Thinking about it too fast is never the best decision. I’ve just lucked out and somehow made the right ones, but you should sleep on it. We can all say bye and head home for today.” 

“If you think that’s what best.” 

You look down at the street, where the painter on the corner is painting what you can only assume is an ocean – a vast sea of blue all over the canvas. 

“The only thing I'm shocked about is that you...you were able to buy a ring without even consulting us?" Eren asks.

Marco shrugs.

"I mean, it's kind of like Auntie Lana said. When you know, you know?"

You can tell that Eren's fighting the urge to smile - that the thing, that warmth that's simmering in your chest from the sentiment - must be present in his heart too.

"You're really good at that, you know?" Eren states.

"Good at what."

"Sweet talking your way out of an awkward conversation."

--

The following morning, you can’t help but note how much Marco is fidgeting in the elevator – messing with his cap, cracking his knuckles, teetering back and forth – as you make your way down the hospital ward, back towards Connie’s room. 

None of you had talked since last night. Mostly because Connie barely slept through the night, riddled with stomach pain, and Marco and Amal didn’t get a spare second. Or didn’t spare a second to discuss what had happened. 

“Nervous?” you ask. 

Marco shakes hs head. 

“No. Just hope he’s okay, it didn’t sound great.” 

As you turn around the corner and walk into the room, the four of you abruptly stop in the doorway, taken aback by how particularly crowded it is in the room. Faces you haven’t seen in a while – Levi, Sasha, Lana and Sukuna and Mikasa – and little streamers hanging from the ceiling. The four of you give each other a confused look as you turn over to where Connie’s sitting in the bed, brightly smiling at the four of you. 

“Good morning.” Connie states. 

You set your bag down on the floor, as the four of you sideshuffle into what seems to be the only open spot in the room, and lean against the wall. 

“Morning, Con.” Eren murmurs, cleary barely even registering what’s happening – what he’s said – as he drops his hand and reaches for yours. 

“Did some decorating last night, did you?” you ask. 

“Big occasion today.” Connie states. 

“Is that right?” Maya asks. 

Connie gives her an affirmative nod. 

“So we’re obviously missing something then? If everyone’s down here, and seemingly more in the loop with these godawful streamers, than we are.” Eren asks. 

“Where’s Amal?” Maya asks. 

“Right. She would be down the hall, in the bathroom. You should go join her – Olivia and Gracie are there – and Maryam, who is probably no help with how emotional she can get.” 

“Emotional about what?” you ask. 

“Our daughter’s getting married, of course.” Connie states. 

That’s what gets Marco to break his vow of silence. 

“To who?” Marco asks. 

Jean’s the first one to cross the way, as he puts one arm all the way around his shoulder. 

“You, silly.” 

“What?” Marco asks. 

“Heard there was a ring. And that it was huge. We all want to see it.” Jean states. 

Marco looks like he's running a blank.

"Right. I...I don't exactly have it."

"Because you threw it at her? You threw something at your future wife?" Sukuna asks.

Marco gives him an awkward sheepish smile.

“I mean, we heard it wasn’t exactly a proposal, screaming at each other and all that. But given who your parents are, we would be shocked if there wasn’t an element of dramatics involved in all of this.” Levi offers. 

Eren rolls his eyes. And every sentence that everyone seems to say goes entirely over your head - because you can't possibly fathom what's going on. 

“I brought you a button up shirt. Best I could do on such short notice, when they told me to drive down here and procure a tux.” Levi mutters. 

Marco gives everyone a confused look. 

“Can…can I talk to Amal or something? What the hell is going on? I can’t exactly stomach this when…” 

“Take the shirt. Men’s bathroom is right next to where she is.” Levi states. 

You watch as Marco begrudgingly takes the shirt, before basically sprinting past the window towards where the bathroom is. Jean and Mikasa give you a quick swift hug, the latter wrapping her arm around you as she murmurs under her breath. 

“Trust me, we found out just minutes before you did.” Mikasa states. 

“I’m confused, is what I am.” 

Mikasa shrugs as Levi joins you at your side.  

“From what I understand, Marco and Amal had some argument yesterday? And he threw a ring at her? And then she was shocked, and she felt so horrible, that she arranged some wedding that Connie would be able to see by the end of the week.” Levi states. 

You sigh. 

“I see. I just think that…” 

There’s a warm hand that wraps around your waist. Eren’s sweet smell envelopes your nose as you feel him by your side

“Give me a second, Mikasa, Levi?” Eren asks. 

She gives you a squeeze on the shoulder, as Eren looks down at you, warm hands enveloping your cheeks. You narrow your eyes at him, particularly noting that he’s less shocked – not the slightest bit reserved. 

“You don’t seem very phased.” you murmur. 

“I’m not really sure what’s going on. Nothing to be phased about when I'm confused, sweetheart.” Eren responds back. 

“What’s going on is that my daughter is a coward. And probably too concerned that we're a burden to her, even more so to anyone else. And buying a ring months ago is a big gesture – a huge one that gives her heart consolation that your son really does loves her – and now realizes that she’s probably hurt him in ways she can’t imagine. For a second time.” Maryam states. 

“So…” Eren asks, gesturing for her to continue. 

Connie sighs. 

“If your son is bold enough to buy a ring after a few months of dating, my daughter is bold enough to marry him on the spot. That’s what happening. If he agrees to it, of course.” 

“Oh.” 

“And she wanted to do it right now, today. So that Connie could see it…if…if he doesn't make it to the end of the week.” 

"I see."

“I figure he'll come around. Big gestures seem to do that.” Eren offers. 

You shoot him a glare. 

“Hilarious. You’re just going to let Marco do this? He…” 

He wants to get married. Married right here, in a few minutes, in a disgustingly oversized shirt that Levi’s offered him. 

“He will make the right decision. You and I should just sit here and let him figure it out.” 

"Eren."

Eren shakes his head.

"On my life." he whispers.

"What?"

"Don't protest. Just let it happen."

“You’re sure about this?” you ask. 

“Trust me. Has he ever gone astray?” 

You deflate. 

“No, but…” 

“So let him stick with it. We've stuck with so many things, probably done so many things that look wrong to other people on the outside. Maybe this is what's right for him.” 

Eren shrugs. It’s a good enough answer for you, as you and Eren take your spot in the corner of the wall, as everyone makes small conversation. It feels like an eon passes – an insurmountable amount of time – as you all linger in the room, before the group of them return. 

Marco’s shirt doesn’t exactly fit him right. Definitely too big on him, loose around the arms. Levi definitely overestimated. Amal’s wearing sneakers underneath her dress, you’re assuming because she forgot about the shoes, and the bouquet that was wilting yesterday is in her hands. 

“Hi.” Marco breathes. 

“Hi Marco.” 

Of course Jean is the only one who responds. 

“So I’m getting married. Did…did anyone else figure everything else out?” he states.

There’s an excited giggle that goes around the room, a wolf whistle from Jean, that sends the both of them into a blushing red mess. Gracie and Olivia step up. 

“Clothes were the best that we could do on a short notice. Levi’s technically officiated to marry people, so he’s got that – I mean, you guys can sign real legal documents later this is obviously ceremonial – and you have a ring.” Olivia states. 

“Did anyone bring a ring for me? One that she can put on me?” Marco asks. 

You can’t help but lean back against Eren, as he rests his chin on top of your head, and feel your heart clench. There’s a quiet look around the room, as everyone eyes each other. 

“You can have mine.” Connie offers. 

You all watch as Connie slides the sliver ring off of his finger, before extending it out to Marco in his palm. 

“Great. I’ll give it right back after.” 

Connie shakes his head, his hand intertwined with Maryam’s, as he insists. 

“You can keep it. As your own wedding ring.” 

“You can’t be serious.” Marco states. 

“Dead serious.” he responds. 

You elbow Eren in the side. 

“What?” 

“Offer yours instead. He’s our kid.” you mumble. 

Eren nods quickly, as he sidesteps and gestures for Connie to put his hand down. 

“No, Connie. He can have mine. He’s my son.” 

Connie shakes his head. He reaches for Eren’s arm, his fingers clasped around his forearm, as he narrows his eyes. You swear his eyes are glassed over. 

“You…are hopefully going to need your wedding ring for a long time. A long, long time because you and Y/N are going to live the closest thing to forever. From what I assume is the universe's consolation for spending so much time apart. Mine won’t have much use towards the end of the week and I figured…they would make better use of it. I wouldn’t want you guys to do anything else with my wedding ring when I’m gone.” 

When you look up, there’s wet tears running down Connie’s sallowed cheeks. You’re unable to swallow the lump in your throat, as Eren slides his ring back on his finger, too quiet to respond, as Marco – who is unable to keep it in now too – takes the ring in his palm and twists it around in his fingers. You know for a fact that the date of Connie and Maryam’s wedding are engraved in the lining, along with their initials. 

“You’re missing one.” Sasha states, through her tears.  

“Missing what?” Niccolo asks. 

“Something old is the shirt. It’s Levi’s. Amal’s ring is something new, Marco’s ring is something borrowed. You guys just need something blue.” 

The group of you rummage through your bags and turn out your pockets. Until Maryam yanks something out of the bottom of her bag – the original jersey that Marco gifted Connie when he returned six months ago – that has blue stitching on the letters. 

“You want him to get married in a baseball jersey.” you deadpan. 

You all watch as Marco and Amal turn to each other and grin. 

“I’ll wear it.” Marco murmurs, as Maryam hands the shirt over to him, and you all watch him button it up. 

“That’s…that’s actually kind of perfect.” Amal murmurs. 

“That was the first thing that he did. Came back to LA for Amal.” Maya murmurs. 

And that’s how the rest of it goes – something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue – all wrapped up to represent all of the love, the most that you could fathom you'll ever feel, in the room.

--

an: two days ago was my one year anniversary of finishing method acting! as consolation for how much love you have given this fic, here's an extra! <3

“so were you planning on telling me you were dating sukuna or was that just supposed to be a happy surprise?” he mutters. 

you turn to your left to eye him – noting that his usual uninterested glare is more steely than usual – as you shoot him a polite smile. granted, knowing the situation and knowing megumi fushiguro as well as you do, you could have supposed that your ritual thursday morning coffee run would be subject to this interrogation. that at some level, you were even asking fo rit. 

there isn’t anything that megumi fushiguro doesn’t know about you. there isn’t anything that you don’t know about him. nothing has ever stopped you – a time zone, long distance, even forcible attempts – so the current predicament, that you have yet to tell him about your very public relationship, was a recipe for disaster. 

and you know for a fact that if it were you, you would be doing way worse. 

“are you going to respond?” he asks, the tone in his voice giving away his impatience. 

the current walk reminds you of one thing. that being subject to irritated glare that megumi usually reserves for other people and very rarely sports towards you isn’t a feeling that you necessarily like. or ever want to get used to. 

 “if i answer happy surprise, will you be more annoyed than you already are?” you joke. 

“take a guess.” he deadpans. 

you frown, looping your arm in through his as you both cross the sidewalk, on your walk three blocks down to the play coffee, where you’re meeting sukuna and yuuji for breakfast. granted, that invite – and the fact that it didn’t come from you either – didn’t necessarily help the situation at hand. 

megumi’s comments about yuuji being overly enthusiastic about meeting you, and the fact that you were now dating sukuna, were clearly no joke. 

“i just find it really strange. i’m not really sure what angle you’re playing at here.”  megumi states. 

you sigh. 

“i’m not playing at an angle. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you before and i know that not telling you doesn’t really help my case, but there is no angle. sukuna and i are just talking. we aren’t even dating yet.” you state. 

megumi clears his throat. 

“yet?” 

“well, we’ll see where it goes. maybe we won’t even date at all. or we will, for a really long time. i’m just playing the entire thing by ear since it’s been a while since i’ve talked to someone i didn’t really know beforehand.” 

megumi scoffs. 

“so you realized you made a mistake by deciding to date the guy who's been your best friend for two years and then decided to turn around and do the opposite thing the next time you tried to talk to someone? by talking to a stranger?” 

“he’s not a stranger! he’s romeo’s brother, that definitely helps in his case.” 

megumi’s uncharacteristically silent. you wrap your arm around his wrist and pull back, gesturing for him to stop in the middle of the sidewalk before letting go. you can tell that he’s unrelenting, barely even meeting your eyes as you teeter back and forth on the balls of your feet, and wait for him to talk again. 

“megumi.” you murmur. 

“what’s the angle? i know you.” he responds back, almost exasperated. 

you debate telling him the truth. debate telling him the truth and hearing it from him in earnest – that he doesn’t think you’re very smart, that your career certainly can’t mean so much that you’d pretend to date someone, and that you’re thoughtless for messing with something that’s so important to him in the process. 

yuuji. and his family, by proxy. 

“there is no angle. he was the one who approached me and i’m just getting to know him. i didn’t even realize he was romeo’s brother until after the first time that we talked.” you state. 

“you didn’t realize that his twin brother….was his brother?” he asks. 

“they’re fraternal. and it was dark.” you state. 

“so the whole song, basketball game, that was all just an extra bonus? a surprisingly convenient way to get back at jake and aimee?” he asks. 

you sigh. 

“okay. so things were public a little fast. so fast that i didn’t even get to tell you about it beforehand. and maybe part of it was me being mad at jake and aimee and just feeling irritated and…and he was there to help me…but i’m not purposely leaving you out of anything. it just happened. and yes, it benefits him too since she’s been talking about him in the press, but it wasn’t planned.”  you state. 

you pause before continuing. 

“you’ve been busy with press. this is the first time i’ve seen you in a while. and i swear, if i had a chance to tell you – not over the phone by the way and actually in person – you would be the first to know.” 

megumi looks over, sparing the smallest smile, on which you return to his side and loop your arm through his before leaning your cheek against his bicep. 

“you can understand why i’m concerned, right?” he murmurs. 

“i know. i don’t want us to interfere with your almost eighteen month attempt at your… whatever…with romeo.”  

megumi clicks his tongue in his cheek. 

“this is not about yuuji. i could care less about that. this is about you.” he deadpans. 

“what about me?” 

megumi sighs. 

“about you and aimee. what interacting with her can do. how obsessive it can become.” he states. 

there’s an overwhelming dry patch in your throat. 

“i don’t care that you didn’t tell me on time. i don’t even really care that you’re dating him. i…think he’s great. he clearly cares about you a lot, he asks me stuff about you all the time. i’m just worried about you. you’re thinking about aimee a lot. getting involved with her again. i just wanted to make sure that you were fine.” 

you understand the implication and frown. 

“i’m fine. if it was like that, i would have told you.” 

“but you understand why i’m asking? because there was a time that you didn’t tell me. quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve withheld anything from me. and i don’t want things to escalate so far that…that i miss something.” 

you turn towards him, reaching forward to place a hand on his shoulder. the searing guilt that this is the second time now – the second time that you’re willingly withholding something from megumi – makes your stomach twist in a way that you don’t like. 

“i haven’t even given her a second thought.” 

that was a lie too. a third. 

“and trust me. more than anything, i’m more annoyed that jake has zero class.” you add. 

megumi scoffs. 

“well, i could have told you that much from the start. who wears khakis to a black tie formal?” he asks. 

you laugh. 

“plus. isn’t that kind of cute? that we’re dating two brothers? we’re like sister wives!”  

“or brother husbands. and i thought you weren’t dating.” megumi states. 

“yet. who knows where it’s going to go from here?” you clarify. 

“well, sukuna definitely wants it to go that way. he really does ask about you. quite often, i might add.” he mentions. 

you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm up. that your curiosity’s been piqued maybe a little more than it should have. it would give away too much – but you need to know every detail. the tone of his voice, the order he said it all in, if he smiled when he talked about you. 

“what did he say?” 

“he was just admiring that you’re very clever. the whole espresso thing. which i think is fucking ridiculous because you hate coffee, but i get the connection. honestly, i feel like he’s kind of shocked that you even like him in the first place.” 

“what’s he so shocked about?” 

megumi shrugs. 

“i don’t know. i guess he’s used to people settling for him or something along those lines according to yuuji. but he’s been pretty happen since you came around.” 

happy that you’re going to save his career.

--

one thing was very clear to you from the deep dive internet search that you did on sukuna a few  days prior. that if there was one thing that was beloved to him – and his fans – it was the coffee shop that he worked at when he was sixteen. 

play coffee was nestled at the end of the block, right on the corner next to a convenience store. just from the design inside – old stained glass windows, red bricks – you could tell that the building was definitely repurposed from its original use.

“yuuji told me that he was out back moving some things into stock. i’m gonna go talk to him before we join you guys, okay?” 

“sure. do you want me to order for you?” 

“sure. just ask sukuna to get me my usual.” megumi notes. 

you shoot him a polite nod, before pushing through the double glass doors, and stopping short of the display case. there’s no one you can see towards the front counter – the unmistakable  pink hair nowhere to be found – as you stop to take note of the pastries in the glass case. 

a sheet cake, perfectly sliced at the bottom, next to a glistening pie, with an intricately designed crust. three donuts in a line, a bundt cake, and what you’re guessing is the most extensive assortment of croissants that you’ve ever seen in your life. 

you pause to take a picture of the pie crust, noting the braided pattern on the outer edge, before you’re startled by the presence of another voice. 

“which one caught your eye?” 

the woman standing at your side is looking over at you, eyes wide and expectant as she waits for an answer, and as you clock exactly who she is. some part of you was convinced that your searing memory – the fact that you remember everything in painstaking detail – had to be some type of superpower at this point. 

alina. sukuna’s boss. she’s the one that owns the coffee shop. and by proxy, you assume the woman that sukuna’s so overly fond of to stay here and invest in for so long. 

“the pie. it’s lemon meringue right?” 

“that’s right.” 

“i was just admiring the design on the crust. it’s hard to find places that have such intricate crusts. or even offer lemon meringue as an option. i usually have to make it on my own.” 

alina hums in response. 

“sour on the outside, sweet on the inside. is that your type?” she states.

“what?” 

“that’s how sukuna makes that one. he makes the meringue more sour and the filling more sweet. swears that it’s better that way. is that the type of lemon meringue pie you like?”   

you give her a polite nod. and note that you’re not the only one who seems to remember things in painstaking detail. 

“sorry, yeah. you said sukuna made it?” you ask. 

she gives you a smile. 

“he’s a big baker. something you’ll have to get used to, i suppose, since his mom says that he does get an itch to start baking in the middle of the night sometimes.” 

you give her an awkward smile. of course she knows who you are. if he’s close enough to save her coffee shop from being evicted, he’s definitely going to let her know when he’s seeing someone new. 

it was normal. what you did wasn’t. 

“i’m kind of an insomniac too, so that would be fine with me. and i like baking. and it doesn’t seem like he’s half bad at it.” you ask. 

“you like baking too?” she asks. 

“oh, i try to make my own food when i can. taking the time to make it makes it easier for me to eat it and enjoy it.” you state. 

you smile, swallowing down the warmth that’s settling into your throat, to keep the conversation going. and hope that wasn’t an awkward thing ot say. 

“he’s been talking about you. playing your espresso song in the shop because he claims it’s good for business, but i think it’s just because he likes it so much.” 

“oh. you play my song here? that’s really sweet of you guys.” 

you pause, before turning to the left and extending your hand out to her. it’s an opportune time because it’s right as sukuna comes out of the closed door in the back – a glistening sheen of sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. you note that the dress code that everyone seemed to follow – at least from the pictures that you saw on the website – is one that applied to everyone but sukuna. 

because you can see his fully tattooed arms on display in the dark green tank top he’s wearing. you restrain yourself from looking at the art on his arm fully and look up to find him grinning at you, looking a little too happy for your liking. 

he probably thinks that you were checking him out. 

“you could have hollered when you got here, y/n. and of course we played your song here.” sukuna states. 

“well, that would have gotten you and your sweat over here faster. plus, i was introducing myself to alina.” you respond. 

sukuna laughs. 

“trust me, you don’t need an introduction. i’m convinced i know more about you than you do at this point.” alina murmurs. 

sukuna turns around to narrow his eyes at her, one that makes her smile very brightly, before she scuttles away towards the back. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. 

“she’s like my pseudo mom. she just asked a lot of questions about you, that’s all.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. 

“and how were you able to come up with so many answers?” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“your best friend since childhood has been my co-worker for the past year. and he also lingers around my apartment basically everyday.” 

“i have a sneaking suspicion that’s not really true, sukuna.” you state.  

“oh?” 

you shrug. 

“i never even told you we were childhood best friends. how would you know to ask him? and he’s not exactly standing around at your apartment to talk to you.” you note. 

sukuna shakes his head, almost like he’s dismissing the entire conversation away with one shake, before he crouches in front of the glass case of the pastries, eyeing them all one by one. you note that he’s pretty meticulous – at least with the order – because he starts rearranging all of them in a specific order. 

“i actually wanted to talk to you about something.” 

sukuna gives you a nod, almost like he’s indicating that you have his full attention, not diverting his eyes from the case. 

“well, what are we doing?” you whisper. 

“i’m rearranging the pastries because yuuji doesn’t know what alphabetical order means. you’re admiring me from a distance, very shamelessly i might add.” he notes. 

you bite down on your cheek, before crouching down to whisper properly. 

“i mean. you’re almost at the end of press. i basically pissed off jake and aimee like you said. aren’t we good to..i don’t know…fizzle out?” 

sukuna scunches up his face at the sound of your words. almost like he’s irritated you’d even position this in the first place. 

“are you seriously backing out because you’re scared?” he asks. 

“scared? what could i possibly have to be scared of?” 

he finally diverts his gaze from the case, retreating his hand back to his lap, and trying to discern the look on your face from his scrunched eyes. 

“you tell me. you’re the one who is backing out right now.” he murmurs. 

you clear your throat. 

“i don’t see a point.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“i can spend another time trying to convince you of the point. but trust me, you don’t want to go into the premiere party on friday without me. i got not one but two messages last night that weren’t exactly pleasant.” 

“what? from who?” 

“the pope.” he deadpans. 

“really?” 

“are you crazy? one from aimee telling me that she missed me. and one from jake telling me that i needed to be careful with you or else.” 

“what?” 

“exactly. they’re definitely not going to drop this. and at this point in time, it really wouldn’t make sense for us to do it either. i didn’t necessarily help your case by pissing him off at the basketball game and now i’m not just going to leave you defenseless.” 

“i’m not defens..” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, placing his hand flat on your cheek in efforts to silence you, as alina sticks a plate of the pie right on the counter where the two of you are standing. you note that she smiles at the two of you – almost double taking to observe how sukuna’s holding your cheek – before she walks away. 

you can feel your cheeks warm as he drops his hand, his soft touch retreating. he gives you a sweet smile, one that you don’t entirely understand, as he beckons for you to follow him, leading you the booth all the way at the end. 

you can see that yuuji is tending to the flowers that are in the box out front through the window, and that a few feet behind, megumi’s watching him very fondly as he continues to talk. sukuna follows your line of vision, before clearing his throat. 

“ten bucks megumi makes the first move.” 

“oh, you’re so full of shit. it’s either going to be yuuji or it’s never happening.” 

“oh ye of little faith. trust me, if anyone’s hopeless over there, it’s yuuji.” 

you scoff. 

“please. you don’t know anything about megumi” 

“and you know nothing about yuuji. he’s still convinced that megumi is straight.” he whispers. 

you widen your eyes. 

“is he serious?” you whisper. 

sukuna leans forward, close enough that you can smell the faintest whiff of his cologne. 

“don’t you think that this thing we’re doing is fun?” he whispers. 

you lean back, and he’s keen to follow, as he closed the distance between you two. you’re confused by the glint in his eye – that it’s filled with something that you can’t really place – as you lean back. 

“i’m not sure i follow, starfire.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“are you so daft, robin?” 

“it appears i am.” you deadpan. 

“you and i are telling people that we’re dating. presumably, most people think that we’re probably in love. and at this point in time, that’s a lie. it’s a lie that you know and it’s a lie that i know. and every time i do something to make it obvious – like touch your cheek or respond to something you say online – you seem really exasperated. you roll your eyes at me like you think i’m insane.” 

“and?” 

“i’ve made you an accomplice in my lie. our lie. and every time i do, you seem to shift a little. you don’t really meet my eyes – just like you wouldn’t the other day or even a few minutes ago in front of alina – and i swear you get a flush down your cheeks. it’s one of my favorite things about you.” 

you clear your throat. 

“and?” 

“and it’s because we’re around other people. we have a secret. one that’s just ours. and isn’t that the most intimate thing we can share?” 

“sukuna, you…” 

right at that second, megumi and yuuji slide into the other side of the booth, the latter of which spares you such a bright smile that you have to swallow down the lump in your throat that sukuna’s words just caused. they’re so loud that it nearly startles you, as you push farther away from sukuna and place your hand on the back of your neck – in futile attempts to hide the flush creeping down your neck that he was so fond of. 

sukuna shoots you a smile. you know exactly what it means. 

“hi y/n! i’m yuuji, i’m so excited to meet you!” he states. 

you smile, physically shaking your head to will the thought away, as you extend your hand out to him. nearly disoriented from the words sukuna had just said to you. 

“me too. i’ve heard so much about you.” you respond, noting that your voice very noticeably cracks as you awkwardly extend your hand out. 

it’s something that megumi seems to catch on to pretty fast, as he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. 

“what were you guys talking about? seemed pretty deep in thought there.” megumi asks, as he flips his fingers through the menu. 

“sorry, megumi. we can’t share. it’s a secret.” sukuna murmurs, taking the time to spare you a sweet smile.

--  

--

the next time you see sukuna is almost a week after, at the after party of the premiere. he’s stuck doing last minute press – and you’re too intimidated by whatever secret the two of you are sharing to reach out again – so you stop yourself from asking to see him again.  

you refrain from thinking about the implications of everything he said another time, about what it meant that jake and aimee messaged him, about how he wouldn’t leave you defenseless, and instead opt to watch the ice slowly melt in your glass from the corner. 

to try to figure out what sukuna’s going to spring on you next time – so at the very least, this time you can muster a response. which at this point felt like an entirely impossible pursuit. 

you stick to the same corner at the party, watching megumi from a distance. 

megumi was very clearly the star of the show. you were barely able to get a hold of him since the start of the party, when he was whisked off by his producer, and basically got bounced through every small group of people at the party. 

the closest you were to being near him was your current spot in the little bar, where you’re dead across from the big promotional poster they put behind the counter. 

“hey. are you having fun?” 

you turn to your left to find yuuji at your side, his normal exuberant energy slightly diminished, as he sends you a tired smile. you give him a nod, beckoning for him to take the seat next to you and slide over the leftover soda in your class. 

“not as much fun as you, superstar.” you state. 

“i can’t even feel my feet.” he groans. 

you smile. 

“well, this is just the first of many for you. you were great in the show.” you note. 

he offers you a smile, his face so expressive that you can almost physically see that he’s touched in the curve of his cheeks, as he looks up at the poster across from the two of you. 

“you know. it’s kind of weird. when i was making this show, i could tell that it was really important. in my head, i always knew that it was going to do well because it was special, because megumi and i were making something that i’d never even felt with another person before. but a part of me always put that away, because i was scared i was being arrogant.” 

you shake your head. 

“i feel that way when i write music sometimes. especially when lyrics are particularly scathing or…or personal. it’s almost like i know that it’s going to reach people because it’s something that really happened to me. but then i try to convince myself that i’m just saying that and it’s just a song, that it won’t really hit people, because i think i’m making it up sometimes.” 

you pause. 

“what i’m trying to say, probably in a really long winded way that definitely didn’t come across the way i intended, is that you’re not alone when you feel that. but you also should know that your performance was really good. i thought it was very touching.” 

yuuji smiles, almost faltering in his eyes a little bit, before he turns to you. you note that he seems particularly reserved, almost flighty from the way he’s twitching in his seat, as you scoot closer to him on the bench. 

“you know. my brother said that if i wanted to, i could ask you anything. and that you were so nice that you’d probably indulge and make me feel better.” 

you smile. 

“i’m flattered that he thinks i’m so nice. and he is right, you know. is there something i could help you with?” you ask. 

yuuji swallows hard. 

“do you love megumi?” he asks. 

“what?” 

“like love love him? because he mentioned to me in passing one time that the two of you used to date and i know that you guys are really close and was wondering if it was some like…weird years long situationship that was going on or something.” 

you nod. so that’s why he thought megumi was straight. 

“would it kill you if i gave you every little detail?” you ask. 

“well…” 

“i promise that it will make you feel better.” 

“okay.” 

you smile, swiveling your chair and scooting closer, to lower your voice, at least to the point where he could still hear you. 

“i met megumi when i was in the third grade. and really, i can’t even explain how we became friends.”

“what?” 

you shrug. 

“i feel like everyone else i know, even with other friends of mine, i’m able to remember exactly when i met them. the exact moment that i realized that they were special or that i really liked them. but i can’t even remember where i met megumi. all i know is that as long as i can remember, he’s always been around. always been in my corner when i needed him.” 

yuuji smiles.  

“when we reached sixth grade, he asked me to be his girlfriend. and i said yeah, because i figured if anyone was going to be my boyfriend, it had to be him. it seemed almost natural at that point. it was that weird age where people started segregating awkwardly, asking each other to dances and…people already thought we were together to begin with. i didn’t talk to other boys. i didn’t even talk to other people. if i was going to entertain the thought of someone, they only person i could even tolerate long enough was megumi. so it was going to be him.”  

“there was a day after school where we were both waiting for our parents. both of our dads were kind of fickle in that way, never really came on time to pick us up, amongst other things. and he just asked me if i wanted to kiss him. and i did. and he bursted out into tears after the fact.” 

“what?” 

you look back over your shoulder, where he’s slung across satoru’s shoulder and giving him a disgusted glare, before you turn back and smile. 

“loud tears. like…snot filled tears. for a split second, i thought i bit him or something and just did it wrong.” 

“but?” 

you grin. 

“but he told me that i was his favorite person in the world. that there was one that he liked as much as me. and that if he kissed me and felt nothing, he wasn’t going to ever feel anything when he kissed a girl.” 

you can see the relief in yuuji’s face, that it’s almost instantaneous in the way that he smiles and the relaxation spreading in his shoulders. you reach forward, wrapping your hands around his wrist and squeezing once. 

“what did you say after that?” he asked. 

“i told him that it wasn’t a big deal that he didn’t like kissing girls. that i didn’t even really think i wanted to kiss anyone when i grew up. i was pretty morbid at that time, sixth grade and all, so we both just went about it. nothing really changed after the fact.” you respond. 

yuuji smiles, before awkwardly wincing. 

“i’m sorry for asking. that’s actually kind of embarrassing, but i couldn’t get the thought out of my mind. and it makes more sense because…well, megumi told me about his dad. about how you were the only family that he had and that no one would compare to you.” 

you smile. 

“it’s less of a romantic thing than you think. there was a time where we both lived in a studio apartment, by ourselves, and barely made ends meet.” 

yuuji nods. 

“he told me about that. the thing with his dad. and with your…” 

yuuji almost pauses. he catches himself before confessing what it is that he knows about you – what you’re assuming is the secret that he was asked to keep. 

“you know, your brother is right. if you ever want to ask me something, you can just ask.” 

yuuji smiles. 

“i don’t want to impose. you’re very special to megumi and he’s very special to me, so..i’d do whatever i can. if you ever need my help with anything. maybe you guys could let me in on your little family thing too. for you i mean. i’m kind of great at that type of thing.” 

you reach forward and put your hand in his. 

“i’ll take you up on that offer one day, okay?” 

you clear your throat. 

“did sukuna have fun?” you ask. 

“has he not been around? i’m sure he feels horrible, but his agent is really a stickler about networking at stuff like this.” 

you shake your head. 

“i don’t mind. i fully understand, i was just wondering. in general, if he had a good time at his first premiere.” 

yuuji smiles. 

“this is a really big deal to him.” he murmurs. 

“i can imagine. biggest premiere of your career, especially considering your background and all.” 

yuuji and sukuna – and even their brother and sister-in-law – were one of a kind that way. actors who had no previous background, no connections, to rely on when they made their way through. 

“yeah. and it’s all because of sukuna too, mind you.” 

you feel an insistent tapping on your shoulder, only to find jake standing at your side, eyes wide and frantic. you can’t help but immediately grimace, taking a split second to shoot yuuji a glare, who understands almost instantaneously. 

“i would get up and leave if i were you.” he murmurs. 

you glare at him. 

“and why would i leave?” you ask. 

“aimee had a lot to drink. and we were arguing a lot, about some stuff. and now she’s like thirty seconds away from reaching the counter to scream at you probably.” he whispers. 

“and what could i do to be so deserving of a screaming match?” you ask. 

jake frowns. 

“maybe i said some stuff. made some comparisons, but that’s besides the point.” he states. 

you look past his shoulder, nearly bumping your head into yuuji’s to find that jake’s not lying in the slightest, and slowly but surely, aimee is side stepping her way towards where you’re standing. 

that was one of the scariest things about her. that drinking alcohol didn’t seem to do what it did to everyone else – she didn’t excessively laugh or overshare or tell people they were beautiful in a dirty bathroom. 

she took it as an opportunity to be ruthlessly mean. say what was really on her mind. 

you turn to yuuji, shooting him an awkward smile, before leaning closer. 

“could you grab megumi? or his car keys? i think it might be time for me to go and i came in his car.” you murmur. 

“i’ll bring him back later, don’t worry about it.” he state. 

yuuji’s quick to run off, almost embarrassingly fast, as you turn back to jake, and narrow your eyes at him. 

“what are you still doing here?” you mutter. 

“i don’t know. trying to make sure you leave before she gets over here.” 

“don’t worry. i don’t need your empty concern for me. especially, when you’re the one who put me in this situation.” 

“oh, don’t be like that. things…things escalated really fast. and not in the way that i wanted and you should know that…” 

“i didn’t even realize that you were still friends with her. that you even talked let alone…did god knows what when we were together.” 

“it jus happened.” 

you roll your eyes at him, making every effort to push past him towards the door. but it’s right at that minute that aimee reaches the chair where you’re sitting, and you swallow hard to brace yourself for whatever it is that she’s going to say. 

“y/n.” 

“i’d watch what i was going to say if i were you. you’ve had a lot to drink.” sukuna states, the tone in his voice is so firm that it nearly makes you shudder. 

a demeanor that you have yet to see. possibly another secret. 

“sukuna.” 

“don’t worry. we’re leaving.” he states, reaching for the coat that’s slung behind the back of your chair and tucking it into his arm. 

“i’m so glad that you’re here for this. i was actually just going to tell y/n here that the two of you are perfect for each other.” aimee states. 

“is that right?” you ask. 

you step back as she moves closer, noting that sukuna’s hand is hovering behind you, on the lower part of your back. almost precautionary. 

“your piece of shit junkie dad is the reason you won’t give in to anyone for real. you couldn’t win in a relationship even if you tried.” 

you swallow hard. 

“what the hell did you just say to me?” 

“i said that your junkie dad is going to follow you around until the day you die. hell, i bet even to this day, you’re still going home once in a while and digging him out of the hole that he put himself in. standing right there with him. stuck in the fact that that’s where you came from. where you’ll always be from. every single shitty lie that you tell and every person that you cross should be a reminder – there’s no difference between you and him.” 

sukuna looks down at you, eyes almost wide, before she looks over at him. 

“and you. you won’t ever be enough for her. but you know that already don’t you? you’re a chronic flight risk – because deep down, you know there’s nothing about you that’s even likeable in the first place. couple that with the fact that your heart is quite literally nonfunctional, well.” 

she takes a deep breath in. 

 “you’re a match made in heaven.” she finishes. 

you’re the one who lunges first.  

--

you don’t remember the rest of the conversation. only the fact that sukuna dragged you out of there, that you were sitting in his car with freezing cold air blowing in your face, and his hand  was intertwined in yours on your lap. 

you look down, the words echoing in your head – every single one of them – as you note the calloused skin on his knuckles. a burn over the middle and ring knuckle. you run your finger over it, earning you a hiss from sukuna as you turn over to apologize. 

“oh, i’m sorry.” you murmur. 

“not your fault. i was trying to take the coffee out too fast the other day. skin’s still sensitive.” 

you nod. the two of you return to the silence, the pale glow of the streetlights reflecting across both of your faces, basking the entire car in an almost dim red. you place your other hand on his, cradling the free hand that he offered you in both of yours, and look down. 

“i hate to interrupt whatever it is that’s running through your mind, but do you want me to take you to yours? or are you okay being at mine?” 

you shake your head. 

“mine. please.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“you don’t have to beg, you know?” 

you scoff. 

“how was that begging?” 

“please.” he mimics, the tone in his voice so shrill that it almost makes you laugh.

“i don’t even sound like that.” 

“well, to me,  you do. you’ll just have to point me in the right direction to yours okay.” 

you nod, sinking down into the chair, as you look ahead at the empty streets. there’s no one even parked on the sides, the pale moonlight reflecting against the windows of the building as you ride in silence. 

sukuna’s driving slow. what you’re assuming is uncharacteristically slow, because it feels like he spares every free second that he has to look over at where you’re sitting, like he’s almost trying to figure out what to do next. 

“do you want to stay when we get to my house?” you ask. 

“stay where?” he asks. 

you shrug. 

“with me?” you ask. 

“oh. i can stay. i’d love to stay.” he corrects. 

“don’t get too excited now.” you state. 

sukuna has a whisper of a smile on his face. 

“i can stay. i just…i have something i have to do tomorrow, if i can do it at your place.” 

“what’s that?”

sukuna clears his throat. 

“i need to redye my hair before i go to the awards show on sunday. the pink is sort of fading into white at this point, which is what i wanted for the premiere, but now i need to refresh it. maybe you can help me.” 

you give him a quiet nod. and wonder if you’ll regret letting him stay in the morning. 

--

--

next part linked here

an: everyone thank user @/paperphytes for commenting on dream girl three times over the span of like four months and asking me to update. third time was a charm apparently. anyways next chapter is called juno HEHEHEH

satoru gojo had a natural aptitude to take things a little too seriously. most of the times, a little too far. naturally, the first christmas that megumi and tsumiki were going to spend with you was not an event that he was going to spare or take lightly, at least not without a decent amount of fanfare first.  

what started as an innocent trip to the mall to find matching pajamas left with satoru buying the pair a new wardrobe of designer items, despite your insistence that they wouldn’t really be too fond of them. he figured that toji fushiguro had never bothered to buy the two of them presents, so him buying the obscene amount was justified as he was simply just catching up. 

and while the gifts were mostly innocuous, the entire ordeal that he had planned for christmas eve was the cherry on top. it involved robbing you of your sleep so that the two of you could eat half of the cookies that tsumiki and megumi left out, to imprint little hooves into the yard and footsteps leading up to the tree, and stuffing the stockings that you had purposely left empty for the past two weeks to paint a perfect picture. 

except, satoru gojo refused to stuff the stockings in his own clothes, because according to him, the eyes in the back of megumi’s head would catch him in the act. and if it meant that he had to buy a whole costume to prove his point, it was the very least he would do. 

“are you cheating on gojo sensei?” 

“no! of course, i’m not cheating on satoru.” 

satoru shoots up out of his chair, his hand firm on your shoulder, as he leans down and shoots megumi a pointed smile.

“yes! of course, she is.” satoru responds. 

you shoot satoru a confused look. he doesn’t relent in the slightest, from whatever shitty game it is that he’s playing, and instead opts to give you a peachy smile, before pushing your hands off of his shoulders. 

“she’s been naughty this year.” he responds. 

“what? no, i haven’t. satoru’s just…” 

“who’s satoru? i’m santa claus.” satoru seethes. 

megumi gives you a shrug, before padding out of the room, as you shove satoru and whisper under your breath.

“what the hell?” you whisper. 

“what?” 

“you…you can’t just tell him that i’m cheating on you.” you state. 

“well, i can’t exactly tell him that i’m dressed up as santa claus either, can i?” satoru responds. 

“oh my god, satoru. get your priorities straight. come to your senses a little bit this…this is insane.” 

“no, i’m not coming to my senses. he has to believe in santa, this is important. this is the pinnacle of childhood itself.” he murmurs. 

you pinch the bridge of your nose, the two of you pushing away from one another as megumi pads back into the room, a jacket slung over his shoulders. 

“can we drink hot chocolate?” he asks. 

“sure we can. i’ll put it on right now.” you murmur, lifting him up so that he’s sitting on the counter by satoru. 

you shoot him a glare, one that’s enough of a warning that he needs to retract what it is that he’s just said, as you reach for the fridge. 

“so. about what you saw.” satoru starts. 

“you were kissing, y/n.” 

“no, i wasn’t. she had something in her eye.” 

megumi frowns. 

“well, you said yipee after, so i hardly doubt that’s true.” 

you swallow down your snort. 

“that was a joke. i was just…trying to make her laugh…but that’s besides the point.” 

“why are you trying to make her laugh if she’s being naughty? that doesn’t really make any sense, does it?” megumi deadpans. 

you place the glass of steaming hot chocolate next to megumi, taking one chance to ruffle his hair, before reaching for your own cup. satoru makes a move on your mug, leaning just close enough to beckon for a sip, as you shake your head at him. 

“what gives?” he asks. 

“i don’t share my drinks with strangers, santa.” 

“oh. right. well. i’ll just be on my way out then. have gifts i have to deliver. because you know…i’m santa and all.” 

you shoot satoru a peachy smile. 

“off you go.” you gesture. 

satoru gives you a confused look, before mouthing to you when megumi’s busy looking away. 

really? 

you give him a nod in response, watching as he very begrudgingly scoots his way out of the hallway, accompanied by a very loud slamming of the door as he leaves. you turn to megumi, who gives you a rather blank expression. 

“does he really think i’m stupid enough to believe in santa claus? or that you’d cheat on him?” 

“evidently so.” 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

“how long do you think it will take him to come back?” megumi asks. 

you shake your head. 

“he’s far too committed to the bit now. my guess is breakfast.” 

“dinner.” megumi states. 

you lean back against the counter. 

“ten bucks?” you ask.