Chapter Text
Koujaku finished locking the door to the salon and stepped down from the entryway. He'd been the last out tonight; it was his turn to sweep up and do the last bit of cleaning, and once all the laundry was set out to be picked up and the garbage bags taken out to the dumpster in back, he was free to go.
It hadn't taken long to settle into the routine here. The other stylists were friendly and outgoing, even if they often talked too fast for him to pick up most of what they were saying (even with Beni frantically translating for him); still, he got the gist of it, and they were quick to help him with words or phrases he didn't understand. For his part, he'd been happy to regale them with stories of Midorijima, even the most common occurrences fascinating them. Not as many people had Allmates here, and none of them played Rhyme, so it was all brand new to them.
A horn sounded, though Koujaku had already spotted the old pickup truck parked across the street. He headed toward it with a smile of relief. It had been a busy day, and Koujaku hadn't been looking forward to the walk back to his apartment; when Aoba had called to suggest he come over for dinner, he'd agreed without hesitation.
Mink, behind the wheel, leaned over to give him a brief kiss of greeting once he'd gotten into the truck. Koujaku closed his eyes to meet it, then let his head collapse against the seat as Mink put the truck into gear and pulled out from where he'd parked.
"Aoba's making that chicken curry you like," Mink said. Koujaku groaned.
"Fuck, that sounds amazing."
Indeed, the house smelled of deliciously frying chicken and rich curry sauce as Koujaku and Mink entered; Koujaku's stomach growled loud enough to nearly drown out the sound of Aoba welcoming them home. He stepped out of his shoes, lined them up beside Mink and Aoba's, and nearly floated on the amazing smells into the kitchen, where Aoba was tending the karaage in a shallow oil bath.
He slipped his arms around Aoba's waist, bent his mouth to Aoba's shoulder. Six months he'd been living here now, staying over at the house more nights than not, and it still seemed unreal that he could do this sort of thing so casually. Aoba laughed and protested, but didn't push Koujaku away.
Mink, having gone to the bathroom to wash up, came in after them. A big hand drifted across Koujaku's back, then rested on Aoba's other shoulder for a moment before he went to start getting dishes and silverware. Distantly, Koujaku could hear Beni trying to pick a fight with Huracan; he'd flown into the living room as soon as they arrived. He fully anticipated seeing Huracan standing on Beni again later, but the squabbling was never serious; just a part of their daily lives.
Koujaku had never thought he'd want a domestic life like this, but now he couldn't imagine any other one.