Archive of Our Own ^beta

As Tanjiro stared out the window of the café where he was sitting, he let the scents and sounds roll over him, a wave of sensory input he had trained himself to ignore. He looked down at his hands and fiddled with the ring on his ring finger, watching it glint under the light.

“So, I told him ‘you can’t be serious’!” Zenitsu exclaimed, pulling him back to the present. “Does that guy really think he can get away with acting like that? He is getting on my last nerve! Seriously, I don’t care about that stupid scar or his stupid face, I just wanna wring his stupid—”

Zenitsu hadn’t noticed the ring. And why would he? This was the first time they had seen each other since the ceremony. He hadn’t expected a traditional ceremony, but he hadn’t exactly expected to meet a man like that at all.

“And you know what else? Inosuke acts like he hadn’t almost lost his job over that stunt he pulled by the printer. You remember me telling you about that? He—”

“Zenitsu,” Tanjiro interrupted. He watched his mouth move, and heard the words that were spoken, but realized he hadn’t absorbed a single thing he'd said, and he knew he wouldn’t until he said what he had come to say. It was the reason he had invited Zenitsu out in the first place.

“What? I’m only joking.” Zenitsu leaned his head on his hand and shrugged one shoulder. This particular suit jacket was a little too big for him and slipped on one side. He kept talking about having it tailored.

Sensing his gaze, Zenitsu adjusted his jacket on his shoulders and then loosened his tie.

“I’m not really going to kill him, though you know I’d like to, given the chance.”

Zenitsu took a sip of his tea and met Tanjiro’s eyes. Whatever he saw there, it made his expression shift to something more serious.

“What’s with that look on your face? What’s wrong? Is it Nezuko?!”

“Zenitsu,” Tanjiro repeated. He glanced out the window, mouth hanging open, and curled both hands into fists over the tabletop. “I got married.”

Almost instantly, Zenitsu started to choke on his drink. He pounded his fist against his chest, and then slapped his hand against the table a few times.

“You— you—” he coughed for a solid minute until his lungs had been emptied, and he stared at Tanjiro like he’d never seen anything like him before. “You what? What? Are you serious? Are you messing with me?”

“No,” Tanjiro said. He lifted his hand and pointed at the ring. “I really got married.”

“Married? Married?” Zenitsu shrieked. He yanked Tanjiro’s hand towards him and inspected it. “You got married and didn’t tell me? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone! What the hell, Tanjiro!”

The whole time they’d been talking, Tanjiro hadn’t known what to feel, and as Zenitsu veritably lost his mind, Tanjiro’s eyes went wide.

“I… I didn’t tell you. I got married, and I didn’t tell you. I’m so sorry, Zenitsu. I don’t know why didn’t tell you!”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on.” Zenitsu let go of his hand and sat back down. He grabbed a couple napkins from nearby and began wiping up the tea he had spilled during his coughing fit. “Okay, I think we need to start from square one. You, Kamado Tanjiro, got married. When? Why? Are you even still a Kamado? Why? I mean—I guess I know why, but why?”

“Last week,” Tanjiro answered. “It was through omiai. It all happened so fast that I barely had time to think about it. Nezuko and I just moved into his house.”

Zenitsu had moved on from staring at Tanjiro and was now staring at the table, his head buried in his hands.

“I think I’m going insane,” he mumbled to himself. “You just told me you got married through arranged marriage—”

“It’s not really arranged marriage,” Tanjiro pointed out.

“—through arranged marriage, and…” He tugged at his hair with both hands. “Give me a few minutes to process this, please. What’s her name?”

“His,” Tanjiro corrected. “I’m bisexual?”

Zenitsu laughed. It was a desperate sound. “Why does that sound like that’s a question? Okay, so it’s a guy. What’s his name?”

“Rengoku Kyojuro.”

“Okay.” Zenitsu slapped both palms onto the table and raised his head. “Okay! We’ll talk about your punishment for betraying me like this later. Tell me about him. Do you have any photos?”

“I... the photos from the wedding are still being processed, but I took some with Nezuko.”

Tanjiro pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos until he found one of him and Nezuko that had Rengoku walking by in the background. It was a little blurry, but it was still possible to tell what he looked like.

Tanjiro stared at the photo for a few seconds before meeting Zenitsu’s eyes. His lips were curled back.

“I am seriously, seriously going to need you to start from square one. Actually, no—the very first thought you had when you decided to do something insane like this. Start there.”

THEN

This is for Nezuko.

Tanjiro folded his hands in front of him. He wore a suit— his best suit—and he hoped the sweat building under his arms wouldn’t be visible by the end of the day.

Besides, I’m at that age, Tanjiro thought. He’d had that same thought thousands of times over throughout the process, repeating it on loop as he signed the paperwork. And Nezuko deserves a stable household. I don’t have time to meet people at clubs or events.

He heard voices echo from down the hall and jolted upright. The building they were in had large windows that let in natural light. It was late afternoon, and because of the sun’s angle, there was a sunbeam that left a streak across the table in front of Tanjiro.

He stared at it as the door opened, and then scrambled to his feet when voices echoed around the corner.

Tanjiro swallowed. He felt it get caught in his throat and had to resist the urge to cough.

There were two male voices. The matchmaker’s Tanjiro recognized. He was a man from the company Tanjiro had decided to hire. He knew it was acceptable to have a friend or family member assist in the process these days, but he couldn’t imagine Zenitsu, or god forbid, Inosuke, trying to help set him up.

What if he looks nothing like the photos?

If he didn’t, did it really matter? He was out of options. It was either get his life together and start moving forward, or potentially lose his last remaining family member, and Tanjiro knew which one he dreaded less.

Granted, out of all the options, I’m surprised we’ve ended up here, he thought, lifting his head just as they both rounded the corner. After all, I’m…

“Kamado? Sorry to keep you waiting,” the matchmaker said in greeting. His name was Tanaka. They’d only met in person once. Tanaka gestured to the man standing next to him, an odd smile rising onto his face. “We got a little caught up in conversation. Let’s get formal introductions out of the way now that we’re all here.”

“Y-Yes!” Tanjiro said, at a pitch much higher than he would’ve preferred, and wrenched his eyes away from Tanaka to look at the last candidate he’d expected to end up with at this stage.

Rengoku Kyojuro. Head son of the Rengoku household, a name Tanjiro was now familiar with after reading it on his profile over and over.

He looked exactly like the photos. Tall, handsome, and obviously muscular, Rengoku was dressed not in a suit, but a flattering turtleneck sweater that fit him perfectly and a dark pair of pants.

Based on his profile, he appeared like the full package. Were it not for the shocking color of his hair and his bright eyes—both of which had been proven natural for him—he would have no problem finding a match. Tanjiro imagined he had trouble with that in the past; DNA tests had been provided at request, and Rengoku had stated on his sheet that he was willing to undergo more testing.

Rengoku flashed him a smile Tanjiro recognized from all his photos and opened his mouth to introduce himself. Tanjiro’s nerves kicked up a notch.

That hair is really something. His eyebrows are so thick, too. But aside from all that, I still don’t really understand why he would pick—

“Hello!” Rengoku yelled, interrupting Tanjiro’s thoughts and bulldozing straight into the forefront of his consciousness. “I’m Rengoku Kyojuro! It’s very nice to meet you! And may I add—don’t I feel underdressed today! You look sharp!”

He laughed, loudly and freely, and then he bowed.

“Ka…Kamado Tanjiro,” Tanjiro said, returning it. “Um, thank you! I didn’t want to come underdressed—er, not that you are! You look very nice as well!”

Rengoku laughed again, even louder that time.

Tanjiro immediately understood why he might’ve had trouble finding a match. He wondered if that was why they were meeting now, when Tanjiro barely had any prospects and no family to speak of.

After their introductions and some awkward small talk, the matchmaker sat them down and excused himself, giving them time alone.

At this stage, they were meant to just get a feel for each other. It had seemed a lot less intimidating reading it all out on paper than facing the man directly.

“So, Rengoku—” Tanjiro began.

“What?” Rengoku asked, almost at a normal volume. Almost. He stared hard at Tanjiro, hands folded in front of him on the table. The beam of sunlight had moved from the center and was now over Rengoku’s forearms.

“Ah… well…” Tanjiro sought out the thread of conversation he had mentally prepared before the meeting, but with Rengoku’s eyes on him, he found his mind had gone completely blank.

“What made you want to go this route?” he ended up asking. “Omiai aren’t really common these days. And you’re so handsome.”

Immediately, he wanted to erase what he’d said and say something else—anything else. Tanjiro may as well have started off by asking him, why would you bother with something like this? Also, you’re hot.

Thankfully for him, Rengoku didn’t seem to interpret it that way. He cocked his head to the side and appeared thoughtful, his smile disappearing for a moment before returning.

“To be honest, I was too busy with work and assisting my family to go about it the traditional way. It’s not common, but my father met my mother through an omiai, and in these modern times, it’s no different than going out on a blind date!”

“I guess that’s true,” Tanjiro said. “You’re a teacher, right?”

“That’s right!” Rengoku confirmed. He nodded once. “History!”

“I liked history in college, but I could never get into it in high school! What high school do you teach?”

Rengoku said the name, and then immediately after banged his fist on the table and added, “I love history! I love it!! There’s nothing better than reflecting on our past and learning how humanity became what it is. We are constantly learning from those who came before us. Though like you mentioned, at a high school level, getting them to concentrate is another matter!”

“That’s great!” Tanjiro said, startled by his passion but oddly delighted by it. “Your students must love you.”

“Mm! What about you?” Rengoku asked. “I’ve read everything about you that you gave me, but I’d like to hear from you directly!”

This is it, Tanjiro thought. Rengoku wasn’t rich, but his family owned several dojos and even a calligraphy studio. Compared to what Tanjiro had to offer, it made them seem like a poor match.

It’s not about money, he reminded himself. Technically, love has no barriers. He already knows.

“Like you said, you already know everything I put on paper. I work as a freelance web designer so I can work from home and take care of my sister.”

“Ah! Nezuko, right? So you work only from home?”

“Yes. I honestly really like it! I have a small room I turned into an office that I lock up at the end of the day.”

Sometimes. If he could afford to stop trying to find work or chasing down payments.

“Was that your major?” Rengoku asked.

“I majored in business. It seemed like the most stable option. I took some online courses, but mostly taught myself.”

“That’s great!” Rengoku exclaimed. “You seem like a hard worker! Your dedication to your craft is admirable!”

Thank you, Tanjiro thought, but what came out of his mouth instead was,

“To be honest, I miss my parents’ bakery more than anything.”

“Bakery?” Rengoku’s eyes lit up. “You never mentioned a bakery!”

He hadn’t meant to. Tanjiro had intended to leave that part of his past behind, but with Rengoku sitting there, staring at him expectantly, his mouth kept moving on its own.

“After my parents died, we had to pay for their funerals, and we weren’t well off. I was still a teenager, and Nezuko couldn’t help me, so we had to sell it to cover the costs of everything.”

Tanjiro looked down at the table and at his hands. He still remembered the way it smelled every morning when his mother pulled the fresh bread out of the oven. He would hear his father in the other room exclaiming how good it smelled from the couch, as if it wasn’t like that every day. Nezuko and he often sat there together when they weren’t feeling well enough to do anything else.

When he lifted his head, Rengoku was looking at him with sympathy.

“A-ah! I’m sorry, that was really rude of me! I didn’t mean to bring up something like that. I think I’m just a little nervous today.”

“I take no issue with anything you have told me,” Rengoku told him seriously. “I appreciate your candor and honesty. In fact, I’d prefer it!”

After that, conversation moved on to other, more serious topics. They didn’t talk about it for long, but they shared short conversations about their goals in life and family. Tanjiro wanted to adopt and have a big family. Rengoku felt the same.

“I love children! I’d like to have my own. Adoption or surrogacy is fine with me!”

“You seem like you’d make a really good dad,” Tanjiro said, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. He’d been able to smell his cologne the whole time, but the longer they sat there, the stronger it seemed. Melded with Rengoku’s skin, the scent was like warm, freshly burned firewood.

Even after they separated, the scent stayed rooted in Tanjiro’s nose.

THEN

“I can pay this one… probably.”

Shuffling through the mail was never Tanjiro’s favorite pastime. For one, he was constantly being reminded that he could save money if he switched to auto pay with several of their bills, but he couldn’t afford to switch to auto pay because of the inconsistency of his pay dates.

“Unless—maybe I can change the dates on this… and this.”

He rifled through the paper scraps until he found two of his outstanding bills. The numbers shouted at him from the pages, and it was so tempting just to rip them apart and pretend they didn’t exist.

“Shit,” he swore, burying his head in his hands. He rarely swore; not since their parents died and he had been the one to raise Nezuko. Both of them had been old enough to become emancipated minors when they died, and now that Tanjiro was well past his high school years and Nezuko was enrolled into online classes, he’d been watching over her for years now.

“Why is everything so slow?” he whined. “I need to email that woman again. She still hasn’t paid me.”

“Tanjiro?”

Nezuko’s voice filtered through his torrential thoughts. He hurried to shove the bills into a pile and wiped his face clean of the emotions currently trying to surface.

“What is it, Nezuko?”

“I don’t feel well,” she said. Her voice shook before petering off. It was rare that she admitted to feeling truly unwell, though he knew it was often the case. “Is there any dinner left?”

“Did you take your medicine?”

She hesitated on answering.

“Nezuko,” Tanjiro repeated, firmer that time. “Please take your medicine. You shouldn’t skip a day. And yes, if you want more, you can eat more. We don’t want you passing out again like you did earlier, right?”

“The headaches aren’t that bad,” she said. Her eyes flicked to the pile of mail.

“Nezuko.” He gentled his voice and rose to meet her halfway between the table and the door. Her face was already beginning to pale under the florescent overhead light. “Migraines are no joke. I know how bad they can get. I get them too sometimes, remember?”

More than sometimes. He had one right then, but he had already taken some over-the-counter medicine to stave it off.

Nezuko said nothing, her mouth twisted into an angry frown.

“Take your medicine,” he insisted. “We’ll have a refill by tomorrow morning. You won’t even have to worry about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Nezuko agreed after a while. Tanjiro stroked the back of her head, and then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

NOW

“I’ll break the news to Inosuke,” Zenitsu told him outside the coffee shop. “Honestly, I’ll probably tell the whole office. They’re always dying to hear about you. You know you could probably get a job there if you applied.”

Tanjiro shook his head. “It’s too far from where we live now. And I’ve been out of school for too long, anyway.”

Zenitsu sighed. He adjusted the strap on his bag.

“Text me your new address. I’m gonna need to come by and see this Rengoku guy for myself. I still can’t believe you didn’t even let me help you. I would’ve found the perfect guy for you! Though I guess you already found the right one yourself by paying that company a bunch of money. What about—”

He stopped, pausing deliberately.

What about the money, Tanjiro could hear unspoken. He wasn’t going to admit that he had poured the last of his savings into the endeavor as a last ditch effort. Admitting to it wouldn’t change anything. Sooner or later he would have run out of money and time anyway.

“How is Nezuko?” Zenitsu asked instead.

“Settling in. The first couple days she was really sick because of the move. Rengoku tried hard to make it as free of stress as possible, but Nezuko insisted on helping.”

“Hmph. Mark that down is another reason I need to come by this week. My precious Nezuko must be suffering without me!”

“Zenitsu…” Tanjiro smiled and shook his head. “Thank you. You can come by whenever you like.”

Tanjiro stared at his phone, still trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

After moving in together, Rengoku had suggested they have a shared bank account. Considering they were now a married couple, it made sense. There was no reason Tanjiro couldn’t continue to have his own money, but now they would share.

He just hadn’t seen that much money in one place in a long time. It was… jarring didn’t quite cover it. Staring at the new account notification email, and then looking at the numbers stretching across his screen, emotion swelled within his chest.

It wasn’t a lot, comparatively. It was by no means the luxurious amount of money that meant they could suddenly start taking vacations and going to the beach every other weekend, but it was his now. It was theirs.

“Tanjiro!”

Swallowing down the lump that had formed in his throat, Tanjiro lifted his head from his phone.

Rengoku, his husband of one week, waved at him from the side entrance to the kitchen. Then his waved turned into a beckoning gesture, and he disappeared past the doorway.

“Re—Kyojuro?” Tanjiro called as he peeked into the kitchen. “What is it? Do you need any help?”

“Not at all! I just wanted to get your take on this!”

Rengoku moved away from a pot of boiling liquid and gestured to it excitedly. Tanjiro moved a little closer and gave the air a sniff.

“Is that… sweet potatoes?”

“Mm! It’s sweet potato soup!” Rengoku placed both hands on his hips and grinned. “This is one of my favorite meals! It has miso and ginger! You said you and Nezuko like sweet potatoes, yes?”

“Yes, I do! Nezuko, too. I don’t know if I’ve ever had sweet potato soup, though.”

“That’s great!” Rengoku yelled. “It’ll be a first in many ways! Since moving in has taken the time it has, and due to the stress your sister is under, I know we have only had time to eat out. So, I wanted our first meal together to be something special.”

“That’s… that’s so sweet of you. How is Nezuko?”

“Sleeping off a headache. I offered her some medicine, but she informed me that she has a regime of medication already. You’ll send all that information to me, won’t you? I was going to wake her once we were finished here.”

Tanjiro wanted to apologize on instinct, but he also didn’t want to imply taking care of his sister was a burden, since it wasn’t. She wasn’t.

“Thank you,” he ended up saying. “I will. It’s—she takes a lot. Every day.”

“There is no need to thank me,” Rengoku said. “Nezuko is family now.”

“You cooked all this yourself?” Tanjiro asked, turning his attention back to the simmering pot, because he didn’t know what to say to that.

We’re married, he thought suddenly.

Rengoku laughed like Tanjiro had said something hilarious.

“This was all pre-packaged. I can’t cook!”

“Oh.” He let out a small laugh. “I’m sure it’s still going to be delicious!”

“Would you like to try some?” Rengoku asked. Before Tanjiro could offer up a response, he had procured a spoon and was holding it out for Tanjiro to taste.

“A-ah, then, thank you for the meal,” Tanjiro said, because again, he didn’t know what else to say, and Rengoku was smiling at him, and they were married.

The spoon passed his lips. The knuckles on Rengoku’s hand held under the spoon to keep it from dripping brushed his chin.

“It’s delicious,” Tanjiro said, at length. “Really good! Are you sure you didn’t do anything to this?”

“Not a thing!” Rengoku boasted.

“It’s good,” Tanjiro said again, surprised. He took the spoon from Rengoku and went on for another bite. Rengoku stood beside him, watching him, and Tanjiro knew he had moved closer when his firewood scent filled his nose.

“Tanjiro,” Rengoku began, but what he might’ve said was interrupted by Nezuko.

“Rengoku?” Nezuko called, stumbling over the honorific. She walked into the kitchen bleary-eyed,  clearly having just woken up from a nap. Her hair was a mess. “It smells so good in here it woke me up.”

“Dinner!” Rengoku yelled, and when Nezuko winced, he lowered his voice. “Dinner for the three of us. Are you hungry? And please, drop the honorific. Or better yet, call me Kyojuro!”

“Should I call you brother?” she teased. “Brother Kyojuro?”

As though saying it were a joke in itself, she burst into giggles, laughing hard enough that she had to sit down at the kitchen table. Rengoku was quick to laugh along with her, and then Tanjiro was lost, because he hadn’t seen his sister laugh like that in ages.

After they settled, Tanjiro set the table while Rengoku prepared their bowls. Then they sat down to eat.

The flavor of the sweet potatoes mixed in with the miso and ginger sat like heaven on Tanjiro’s tongue. Somehow, it reminded him of home. He had one bowl, and then another, and almost considered a third but decided against it after his stomach settled.

Rengoku consumed five bowls by himself. Tanjiro had noticed he was a big eater, but out at restaurants one could only burden the staff so much with their requests.

“Wow, you must have been so hungry!” Nezuko said afterwards.

Rengoku nodded. He brought his fist to his chest and pounded it, clearing his throat.

“I’m always hungry! But please, have more. You only had one bowl!”

Nezuko shook her head and pushed her bowl away from her. It was still half full.

“It was really delicious, but I don’t usually eat a lot. I’m already full.”

Rengoku looked alarmed. Sometimes the way Nezuko ate like a bird was a point of concern for Tanjiro, too, but the doctors hadn’t seemed worried, and he trusted her to let him know when something was wrong.

“I see,” Rengoku said at length, after exchanging a look with Tanjiro. Nezuko picked at a loose thread on her shirt. “I see! Then the rest can be put away. I’ll clean up here; you two can keep unpacking.”

“I can help!” Tanjiro said, rising up from his chair. “It’s the least I could do for making this delicious meal.”

He moved to pick up the dishes, but Rengoku stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no need. Besides, I know where all the dishes go!”

He winked. Tanjiro backed away after thanking him again, and followed Nezuko out into the hallway.

“I know you’ve been working these last couple days, but he’s been like that since we moved in here,” she said when they were out of earshot. “He wouldn’t even let me help clean up the plates last night! You know how to pick ‘em, Tanjiro.”

“I didn’t technically pick him,” Tanjiro said with a laugh. “The agency did most of the work.”

Nezuko hummed doubtfully. “Sure. Whatever you say, brother.”

Rengoku had seemed like a nice person from the start, but just from their short time living together he was beginning to realize how wonderful a person he was.

He’s not just wonderful, he’s amazing.

Tanjiro pulled out his phone and stared at the screen. He’d left it on the account page.

The numbers stared back at him.

THEN

The second meeting, Rengoku was just as polite and congenial, and also as loud. People at the local café stared at them, but Rengoku didn’t seem to pay them any mind.

Tanjiro liked talking to him, and he liked hearing what Rengoku had to say. Rengoku was attentive and thoughtful, and clearly an all-around nice person.

Then near the end, the subject of Tanjiro’s sister came up again. Tanjiro had been avoiding talking about in-depth, but he didn’t intend to lie about her.

“So, Nezuko! Let’s talk about her.” Rengoku leaned forward. “Is she in school?”

“Online classes,” Tanjiro replied. “She’s finishing her degree for visual arts. She’s really smart.”

“Mm! That’s wonderful! She stays at home with you, right?”

“Yeah.” Tanjiro curled both hands around his cup and brought it to his mouth to give himself a few seconds. “She’s been sick her whole life. She’s an amazing woman and I love her so much, but she suffers sometimes, too. I wanted—” he paused for a beat “—I do everything I can for her. She’s my main support system. I’ve been trying to get approval from our insurance to get her wheelchair, but they’ve—”

While he spoke, Rengoku’s expression had gone from curious to sympathetic, and when Tanjiro realized he was doing exactly what he been trying to avoid, again, he stopped speaking and closed his mouth with a click.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk this much!” Tanjiro finished, plastering a smile on face. “Simply put, yes! She stays home with me. We have a lot of fun.”

“I see. That must be difficult for you both.”

“Not at all,” Tanjiro said, holding up a hand. “Really, we’ve been so blessed, it’s just…” he took another sip of his coffee, and then a few more. Rengoku watched him, waiting. “I really love my sister, you know?”

“Family is important!” Rengoku agreed, raising his voice. “Very important! I’m glad we share those same values!”

“Yeah,” Tanjiro said, staring down his drink. His heart kept fluttering and fluttering, threatening to fly away from him. “Me, too.”

NOW

While he stared at his phone, Nezuko kept walking. By the time he looked up, she had gone, and he was alone.

A loud clatter brought Tanjiro’s attention behind him, back towards the kitchen. His feet pulled him back in front of the doorway.

The sound had been Rengoku piling the sink high with their dishes. His hair was now arranged in a loose ponytail, and his sleeves were rolled up. He was humming.

“I’ll need to call a mechanic,” Rengoku said out loud, and for a single second Tanjiro thought he knew Tanjiro was there. But no—Rengoku was talking to himself. “I believe I used it… once?”

He slipped his hands out of the kitchen gloves to pull out his phone. That was the cue for Tanjiro to leave, but for some reason, he couldn’t pull away. He realized from Rengoku’s glances that he was talking about the dishwasher.

“Dishwasher… repair…” he was silent for almost a minute “…there! I’ll call them in the morning. We wouldn’t want Nezuko caught washing dishes without any help.”

It was then that Tanjiro slipped away, because he knew if he stayed for even another second, he might start crying.

THEN

“So, on the subject of last names…”

Tanjiro had been the one to bring it up that time. He was out with Rengoku again, finalizing the paperwork for their marriage.

They were doing it. Getting married.

When Rengoku had reached out and said he wanted to start talking marriage, Tanjiro had felt unnecessarily surprised. After all, they had been speaking with every intention of becoming a married couple. But saying it out loud, and then hearing it in person was different.

And now they were finally talking about last names, which Tanjiro had been dreading for weeks.

“You said you were willing to take my last name,” Rengoku said, phrased like a question.

“I would be. I am.” Tanjiro met his eyes. He sucked in a short breath. “I’m the last Kamado, aside from Nezuko. Our parents are dead, and we don’t have any relatives. As far as last names go, mine doesn’t even have an impressive heritage. Your last name is connected to so much family history. It makes sense.”

Just saying it out loud made Tanjiro want to cry. The laws in Japan stated they had to pick a last name, and Tanjiro was under no delusions that Rengoku would ever consider his.

“It’s a little sad, I’ll be honest,” Tanjiro continued. A bitter smile rose onto his face. “It’s all we have left. But your name is really beautiful!” He smiled at Rengoku. “I’d be honored to be considered a Rengoku!”

“Tanjiro,” Rengoku said, his voice unexpectedly low and serious. “You have suffered a great deal. I know very little about that kind of suffering. My mother and father are alive, and I have my little brother and other family members.”

“N-no, I’m sorry,” Tanjiro hastened to say, “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad for me! I feel like I’m always doing that.”

“No, you aren’t!” Rengoku said, his voice firm. “You never do! I’ve told you before, Tanjiro, about my brother, yes?”

“Senjuro. You have.”

“He was once considered the outcast for his inability to succeed in our family traditions. Then that fell to me after I told them I was gay. My father is not a cruel man, but he was not happy to know that I would never marry a woman or have children the traditional way.”

One of his hands slid over Tanjiro’s and squeezed.

“I have no need for those traditions! No need at all! It would be my honor to take your name and become a Kamado.”

“But, Rengoku —”

“Please! I won’t hear another word about it!” Rengoku yelled. A few customers glanced at them. “It is settled! We can even be married by morning!”

“No, I think there might be a little bit more we need to do before that!” Tanjiro said, laughing, and he was grateful for the laughter, because otherwise he would be crying.

NOW

Tanjiro kept thinking about that as the hours passed. Kept thinking about all the moments that had led up to their marriage, and even after they moved in.

Then later that evening, in the middle of unpacking his things, Rengoku knocked on his door.

They had agreed that initially it would be a little too awkward to sleep in the same bed. Though they had just gotten married, they didn’t know each other that well yet. They needed a little time.

Rengoku is really handsome, Tanjiro thought, staring at a shirt in his hand. And that cologne smells really good.

The knock came while he daydreamed, and embarrassingly enough, Rengoku had to knock twice more before he answered.

“A-ah, come in! Sorry, I got lost in thought. Come in, Rengoku.”

“You, too?” Rengoku teased. “You’re my husband, Tanjiro. And I’m a Kamado now, remember! Please call me Kyojuro.”

“Sorry, you’re right. Kyojuro. I’m still getting used to it. I’ve never—well, been married.”

“Me neither,” Rengoku said, moving to stand next to him. “We are both new to this. We shared in that, didn’t we?”

“Yes!” Tanjiro said, staring down at his shirt.

“Do you need any help?” Rengoku asked.

“I think I’m okay.” Tanjiro smiled up at him, and Rengoku stood there for several moments, curling and uncurling his right hand.

“I thought you and I could have dessert when you’re finished. If you wanted!”

Their eyes met. Tanjiro’s smile felt funny on his face. He piled his folded shirts neatly beside him and started working on organizing his socks.

“What were you thinking for dessert?”

“We have ice cream!” Rengoku declared. He slid down next to Tanjiro, and when he spoke again, his voice was much closer. “And cake leftover from our wedding. Since it’s chocolate, it would be delicious if we warmed it up first.”

“Yes, that does sound…” Tanjiro’s voice faded as Rengoku’s arm slid around his shoulder “…good.”

Tanjiro turned his head and met Rengoku’s eyes. He could never get over how stunning they were.

“Can I kiss you?” Rengoku asked.

“Yes,” Tanjiro breathed.

Rengoku’s lips were so, so soft. The first kiss started out gentle and sweet. It wasn’t their first kiss, but it almost felt like it. They kept it chaste, even as one kiss turned into another, and then several, with Rengoku’s soft lifts pressing and sliding against Tanjiro’s. Rengoku shifted closer to him, his fingertips teasing at the line of Tanjiro’s jaw. When his thumb brushed the space under his ear, Tanjiro thought his heart might seriously burst out of his chest.

“Um!” Tanjiro said, gently pushing him away. “You said… ice cream, was it?”

“Mm!” Rengoku smiled. “It’s just vanilla, if that’s all right with you! And tomorrow, I was thinking—” his hand slid down to Tanjiro’s lower back “—I noticed earlier that your sister’s medication looked a little low. Why don’t we go pick up her refill together in the morning? It’s the weekend; we can make a day of it!”

“Oh. That’s okay!” Tanjiro said. He shuffled away from Rengoku and started hastily piling his clothing. ”It’s out of the way, and you have to prepare for exams soon, don’t you? You barely got any work done helping us move.”

“I could say the same!” Rengoku pointed out. “I don’t mind at all. I want to!”

“Okay,” Tanjiro replied, suddenly wishing he hadn’t stopped the kiss from earlier. “Tomorrow.”

Rengoku continued to exceed Tanjiro’s expectations, and it was becoming a problem.

The more time that passed as Tanjiro settled in, the more he revealed himself to be an amazing husband.

Rengoku had bought the rings. Rengoku had insisted on paying for all their dates. Rengoku had taken his name, and then offered his home without a thought.

“I already own a house,” Rengoku had said, belaying Tanjiro’s minor protests. He took Tanjiro’s hands in his and slipped his thumb over the ring sitting on Tanjiro’s finger. “I want you to live with me. You and Nezuko!”

Rengoku was loud and brash, and he didn’t listen when he was overexcited, but he was kind. He seemed passionate about everything and anything. He had accepted Tanjiro and Nezuko to his home more than willingly.

As Tanjiro sat there, wondering what it was that he really had to offer in comparison to everything Rengoku had, he strengthened his resolve.

I have to work harder.

Tanjiro couldn’t pay Rengoku back with money, but he could do everything else.

First, he took a look at the chores list that they had come up with a few days ago that was marked on the whiteboard hanging just outside the kitchen. Nezuko persisted in taking on a few of the chores, and as Tanjiro considered the entire list, he picked up the dry erase marker and began making a few changes.

Initially, he only removed all of Nezuko’s chores save for one. Those he replaced with his own name. Then, he noticed how Rengoku had set the schedule so uneven numbers always landed on him, so Tanjiro replaced several items with his own name as well.

Rengoku is busy with his job. He has a lot of kids to look after. And aside from that—

He had chosen him. Out of everyone, he chose Tanjiro.

“All right! This looks good,” he said out loud. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Food was where Tanjiro excelled. A decade of looking after his sister and cooking for the two of them had improved his skills exponentially.

Every morning, Tanjiro made an effort to prepare breakfast for everyone. It wasn’t often that Rengoku could stay long enough to eat a meal, but Tanjiro made sure to give him protein packed smoothies if he couldn’t stay, and hefty omelettes otherwise.

Then during the day, Tanjiro did his freelance work and watched over Nezuko while she completed her coursework.

“Tanjiro,” she said, poking him in the back while he made them both lunch.

“What is it, Nezuko?”

He turned around quickly, and blinked at the way the world suddenly swam.

“Can you take a look at this? Am I crazy or does this question not make any sense?”

Tanjiro leaned down and read the text. Then he read it out loud.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he confirmed. “Present at… what?”

“Right?” she said, laughing. “Let me read the whole paragraph to you. You get back to cooking.”

After he made several meals that Rengoku couldn’t stop talking about, he even began taking over dinner duty.

He was happy to do it. He wanted to do it. He wanted to do as much as he could for Rengoku, and for Nezuko.

For my family.

“Tanjiro.”

“…Tanjiro?”

“Tanjiro!”

Tanjiro jolted upright in his chair. “Huh? What? I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Sorry, I fell asleep there for a second. What?”

“That’s all right!” Rengoku slid his hand over the doorknob and wiggled it absently. “I wanted to know if you were interested in watching a movie. Nezuko thought we could watch Train to Busan. What do you think? We have popcorn!”

Tanjiro blinked at his screen. His vision swam for a bit, but after a while, it settled.

“That sounds great! You know, I know a recipe for seasoned popcorn.”

“Oh? Do tell!”

Tanjiro smiled. “It’s a secret. Do we have any gochugaru?”

“Mm! No! But I can pick some up for us.”

“No, I’ll do it!” Tanjiro offered immediately. “I wanted to pick up a few things anyway. Do you mind?”

Rengoku glanced at his computer, then at Tanjiro, and then nodded.

“If you’re certain! I can go if you need, though. You’ve been working all day!”

“I’ll go!” Tanjiro said, matching him in volume. “I want to go!”

Time passed. They settled into their routines. It was nearing the end of the year for students, so Rengoku was often kept late in the evening at school, and then stayed up doing grading. They still slept in separate beds.

Tanjiro didn’t mind. He kept busy, and as he took over more of the household chores, that kept him busier.

“How do we use so many dishes every night?” Tanjiro muttered, elbow deep in cleaning one of the bigger cooking pots Rengoku owned. It probably didn’t help that Rengoku could mow his way through leftovers in a single day.

After setting the pot down in the center of the sink to fill with water, Tanjiro took a step back and slid his hands out of the kitchen gloves, pressing his palms over his eyes.

He hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. But Rengoku had also been up grading, and Tanjiro could tell he was frustrated. His kids weren’t hitting the marks and he was struggling to connect with some of them.

“I’ll do the dishes,” Tanjiro had offered, practically pushing him out the door to do it himself.

“You are always doing the dishes!” Rengoku pointed out. “It’s my turn.”

“You have work, right? I finished mine hours ago!”

Rengoku frowned, but didn’t protest. Tanjiro didn’t mention that he had stayed up most of the night to finish his code for the project on time. He had a bit of headache, but that was something he dealt with often.

Now, staring down at the mountain of various pots, skillets, and plates, he was actually almost regretting his decision to take them over. His forehead throbbed painfully, and each time he blinked, it like the light was searing a path straight through his eyeballs and into his brain.

He stood there for a few minutes as the headache began to throb. He prayed for to go away, but he knew better.

We have some medicine around here, don’t we? I’ll finish this and after, I’ll take some and lay down.

Tanjiro went back to doing the dishes, but the light was just so bright. When he couldn’t take it anymore, Tanjiro walked over to the entryway and shut off the light.

He let out a sigh of relief. Almost done. You can do this, Tanjiro.

But by the time he had put the last plate in the dishwasher, his condition had rapidly deteriorated, and he felt horribly ill. His head throbbed so fiercely even the thought of moving out of the room was agonizing. He dropped to a crouch.

Medicine. Medicine. I just need some—

“Tanjiro! Are you washing dishes in the dark?”

The light flicked on. Tanjiro braced both hands on the cupboard in front of him and thought about vomiting.

“I was just… yes,” he said, because he couldn’t manage even considering a lie.

“Why are you on the ground? Are you okay?”

Rengoku moved over next to him, and Tanjiro gingerly stood, picking up the last pot he needed to dry. “Just have a headache. Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to let you know I’ll be leaving to pick up some material I accidentally left at the school.” He paused, taking in Tanjiro flushed face. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Just a headache,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. “I’ll lay down in a little bit. I’m almost done here. Drive safe!”

“Mm! Good. You deserve the rest!”

Rengoku cupped his face with both his hands and kissed him. They had been doing that more often. Shared kisses here and there. Tanjiro wanted to bury his fingers in his hair and keep going, but the glaring overhead fluorescent light was killing him.

“Have a safe trip,” he said, pushing him away.

Minutes after Rengoku left, everything seemed to get brighter and louder and more painful, and he barely finished drying the pot before he hurried into the bathroom and poured the necessary pills in his mouth. Pain sliced across the back of his head and down his neck while he stumbled into the dark entrance to his bedroom. He collapsed into the bed, breathing in the scent of clean sheets and fabric softener.

Smells like Kyojuro.

That helped calm his throbbing head. Maybe it was the medicine finally kicking in, but either way, he buried his face in the pillow and tried not to think about anything for a while.

“Tanjiro?”

Nezuko peeked into the kitchen, and then circled back upstairs and glanced in Tanjiro’s room again.

“Tanjiro? Rengoku? Did you both go somewhere? Hello?”

She walked back out into the living room, hands on her hips.

“Where did you go?”

Pulling out her phone, she sent a text. A ping sounded back upstairs. Confused, she made her way back up the steps and sent another text to confirm what she’d heard.

“Tanjiro?” she called, peeking into the room. She flicked on the light. “Why are you in Kyojuro’s—”

“Turn off the light!” Tanjiro groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Please turn off the light. Please.”

The next few hours passed in agony for Tanjiro. The migraine that had had its hold on him got worse and worse, until he begged Nezuko to find an old stash of medication he had stored away for a rainy day. It was prescription strength and meant to alleviate the worst of the symptoms.

It helped, for a while. But once it wore off, he cowered in the dark and tried not to throw up.

At some point, Rengoku came back. He knew because he heard his voice pass the closed door while Nezuko explained what was going on.

“A migraine? I didn’t know both of you suffered from migraines.”

“Only sometimes, for Tanjiro,” he heard her explain. “It’s…”

Her voice faded before Tanjiro could hear anymore. And then he couldn’t bear to hear anything at all.

Usually, he could handle it. Usually, it wasn’t so bad. This time it was like someone had shoved a railroad spike directly into his skull. Later, as the hours dragged on, the pain got so bad that he started crying. And then because he was crying, the pain only got worse.

Tanjiro became desperate for sleep. He knew at least then he would be free from the pain for a while until migraine faded. And when he did sleep, he slept fitfully, just whiling away time until his body released him from the torment.

At some point, Tanjiro’s eyes snapped open, drawing him out of his half sleep. His head throbbed.

“Tanjiro?”

The bed dipped. Rengoku’s scent filled his nose. HIs voice floated beside him, softer and quieter than it had ever been.

“I brought you some medicine, and a cold pack.”

The cold pack Rengoku gently laid over his head, wrapped in a soft towel. Tanjiro let out a whimper.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Sorry.”

Silence.

“Why are you apologizing?” Rengoku asked, even softer.

“I can’t...” Speaking cost too much energy. He’d had migraines before, but this one made him feel especially weak. “I’m sorry.”

And then he was crying again, his misery compounded by the knowledge that he knew he was ruining the night and likely the rest of the weekend, depending how long it lasted.

“I’m sorry,” he hiccupped, “I feel awful. Please close the door. It’s too bright.”

He felt the bed shift, and a moment later the beam of light coming from the door was gone. Tanjiro had assumed that Rengoku had left, but as he sat there, crying quietly to himself, he heard movement at the end of the bed.

“Is it all right if I stay with you?”

He thought about it; nodded, then realized Rengoku couldn’t see it in the dark. “I won’t be any fun.”

“You are my husband, Tanjiro, and you’re hurting. I want to stay with you.”

Tanjiro shrugged, and realized once more it was too dark to see. He reached out and found one of Rengoku’s hands.

“Okay,” he breathed.

Rengoku sat there with him for hours. Tanjiro had no clue how long; longer than he expected him to. He fell asleep a few times, and one of those times he woke up alone, but then Rengoku came back a few minutes later with a fresh ice pack.

At some point he knew it had gotten late, because Rengoku quietly changed in the dark and asked him if he wanted him to leave while he slept.

“Stay,” he croaked, not knowing then that he was in Rengoku’s room, only aware that he was surrounded by his firewood scent, and he didn’t want him to go.

Fingers passed over his forehead, and then the cold pack from earlier. Tanjiro leaned into his touch, sighing.

“If this persists, we should go to the hospital,” Rengoku murmured.

“I’ll be okay in a while,” Tanjiro whispered back. Even if it wasn’t true, he couldn’t imagine suffering through bright lights of the emergency room while they waited to get the medication necessary. Imagining it alone was painful enough.

He slept. Rengoku slept with him, but the only thing Tanjiro remembered was waking up at some point facing his sleeping face and wriggling in close. He remembered pushing his face into Rengoku’s neck and snuffling at his warm skin. He pushed his mouth against it, breathing it in, and then fell back asleep.

When he woke up, Rengoku was gone, and his migraine was much improved. Still there in the background, but better.

Tanjiro blinked. He stared at the wall, trying to make sense of it.

This isn’t my room. How did I…?

He gingerly sat up and winced at the horrible feeling that surfaced. He slipped out of bed and used the master bathroom connected to Rengoku’s room, then immediately got back into bed.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Good morning, Tanjiro. You’re awake, I see. How are you feeling!”

The volume of his voice wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t as bad as the night before. Tanjiro quickly sat up in bed and then had to lie back down when his stomach heaved.

“Headache isn’t so bad,” he admitted. “But my… my stomach hurts.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t feel well.”

“Stress will do that to you,” Rengoku said, moving to stand next to him. He picked up the cold pack that had been left on the nightstand from the night before and offered a fresh one to Tanjiro. Tanjiro waved it away and pulled the duvet higher up over his shoulders.

Rengoku watched him, quiet for a moment.

“I knew you were taking on too much work,” he said, and sat down at the edge of the bed. He combed his fingers through Tanjiro’s hair and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. “I was enough of an idiot to let you. Why didn’t you let me take over if things were too stressful for you? I saw that you changed some things around on the chores list, and I thought—” he stopped. “I don’t know what I thought. Things are still so… new.”

Tanjiro hesitated on his response. He hadn’t felt like he was taking on that much work. Honestly, he felt like he could’ve done more.

“You’ve done so much for us,” he decided on. “You’re so amazing, Kyojuro. You’re so kind and I just—I wanted to pay you back somehow.”

“Did I imply at some point I wanted you to pay me back?” Rengoku asked, concerned.

“No! No, you haven’t.”

“Good. Because frankly, Tanjiro, I feel insulted when you say that! I didn’t marry you because I wanted help with the housework. Just like you didn’t marry me simply to have extra hands.”

“But I—” Tanjiro took a breath. “You know, sometimes I feel like I did trick you into this. I—you knew I needed help. With everything. And compared to you, I have nothing to offer.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Rengoku said. “What’s wrong with needing help? You had no outstanding debt and your sister is a lovely person. Are you trying to say that you married me just for the money?”

Tanjiro went silent.

“I’ll answer for you. You said to me that your sister lacked stability, and you made it clear you have struggled, but you never once attempted to garner my sympathy. Tanjiro—”

Rengoku brushed his palm over the top of his head, smoothing his hair back.

“—do you suppose that someone would go through the effort, time, and money of an omiai—which is ostensibly the worst choice if you’re trying to hide your background—just to find extra help and money? I’m not the wealthiest choice if that was your gain.

“And so what if you did it just to be with someone, and to have help much deserved?” Rengoku continued. He took Tanjiro’s hand. “Marriage is a duty. It is a vow between two people to work together and build a relationship.”

Tanjiro swallowed against the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. He closed his eyes.

“You know, Tanjiro, when you talk about the things you love, your entire face changes. I fell in love with that part of you right away.” Rengoku smiled as Tanjiro’s eyes went wide. “On our very first meeting, you admitted boldly how you wanted to own a bakery. Your smile rivaled a hundred suns, and your eyes shone bright with passion! I loved it!”

Tanjiro swallowed, and swallowed, but the heavy weight in his throat refused to go away. His lip trembled. Migraines always made him feel strangely emotional, and it didn’t help that Rengoku was saying all these things. It was unfair.

“I loved you swiftly, and fiercely. I want you to feel welcome in my home, because it’s your home.” He leaned down, moving the his hand out of the way and kissing Tanjiro’s forehead; his nose; his lips. “We are sharing it.”

“Please stop talking,” Tanjiro said waveringly. Rengoku’s eyes roamed his face. “You’re going to make me cry. How are you this amazing?”

“I’m not!” Rengoku barked a laugh. “I’m short tempered at times! I’ve been known to interrupt others when they’re talking. I’m told I’m loud, too!”

“I love those parts of you,” Tanjiro said. He sniffled. “Crap. Shit. My head’s going to explode after this.”

Crying always, always made it worse, but just then, he didn’t mind as much. Or at least, he could forgive himself for it later.

Whereas Rengoku have provided mostly comfort, Nezuko scolded him the instant he declared he was well enough to move around without feeling like his head would split in two.

“Tanjiro, you are supposed to be the smart one! What did you think you were doing, working yourself to the bone? I’m the one who’s not supposed to feel well!”

“Now you sound like Zenitsu,” Tanjiro said, holding back a laugh. “It wasn’t that bad. But I am sorry, Nezuko. I should have been more careful and not taken on so much work.”

“Hmph! Well, as long as you understand,” she huffed. She pointed at Rengoku. “And you. Make sure you watch over him, got it, brother-in-law?”

“Yes!” he yelled. “You can count on me from now on!”

“Really, both of you…” Tanjiro shook his head. “I’m just glad you’re getting along. It makes me so happy!”

Nezuko rolled her eyes. “Don’t try and be cute, Tanjiro. I’m going to go lie on the floor for a bit with my book. I’ll see you in a couple minutes for lunch, which Kyojuro is cooking.”

“Kyojuro is cooking?” Tanjiro confirmed.

“Don’t worry, it’s prepackaged!” Rengoku said. He wrapped an arm around Tanjiro shoulder, kissing the side of his head. Tanjiro tilted his head back, and like gravity was in the works, Rengoku dipped his head and met his lips.

Nezuko made a sound, abruptly turning to go find a comfortable spot on the floor. Tanjiro only realized it was the first time they had kissed in front of her since the wedding.

“If you’re feeling up for it, why don’t you join me? For observation only.”

“Okay,” Tanjiro agreed, leaning into his shoulder and wondering how he’d gotten so lucky. “I’d like that.”

ONE MONTH LATER

The ringing of his alarm woke him up out of sleep. Tanjiro’s fingers fumbled at the nightstand to find the source, only to realize that it wasn’t his alarm that was sounding, and the owner was dead asleep.

“I told you you should’ve made it louder,” he grumbled, and climbed over Rengoku to blindly tap on his phone until it shut off. Once that was done, he flopped back down onto the bed—halfway on top of Rengoku—and immediately went back to sleep.

“Tanjiro,” said a voice and indeterminable amount of time later, “did you shut off my alarm?”

“Mm… no,” Tanjiro murmured. His eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head off Rengoku’s chest. “Maybe. Did I?”

“You did,” Rengoku said, sounding only a little annoyed. “If this weren’t an unexpected day off, I would be late!”

“Sorry,” Tanjiro managed through his yawn. He shifted under the covers and crawled on top of Rengoku. Once he was settled, he laid back down, burying his nose in his throat. “But you never wake up to it. You should make it louder.”

“Then you would wake up!”

“I already do that,” Tanjiro said.

“Did you sleep well? No headache?”

After the weekend of Tanjiro’s migraine and subsequent sick days, Rengoku was much more cautious with him. He often checked in, and he offered help whenever it seemed like Tanjiro was even remotely struggling.

He was a little overbearing sometimes, but he didn’t mind. Tanjiro hummed, absently placing sleepy kisses along the crook of his neck.

“No. You smell good,” he slurred. “Why do you always smell good? What’s your secret?”

“My soap!” Rengoku declared.

No matter how often Tanjiro tried to explain the way his sense of smell worked, Rengoku didn’t seem to fully get it.

“Uh huh.” Tanjiro scooted himself higher, until he could reach Rengoku’s mouth and kiss him there. Rengoku’s lips were warm, and their kiss messy and uncoordinated. Tanjiro rose up under the sheets and slipped both hands into Rengoku’s hair, slanting their lips and deepening the kiss.

They hadn’t explored this part of their relationship long, and Tanjiro was eager to experience this part of married life more often than they had been.

Rengoku’s palms slid up the backs of his thighs, fingers teasing the edge of his underwear. He grabbed Tanjiro’s ass with both hands.

“We still have to eat—” Rengoku began. Tanjiro shoved his tongue in his mouth, interrupting him. Rengoku’s groan rumbled up his throat, and then he slowly flipped their positions, pushing Tanjiro into the sheets and turning the kiss searing.

“Should I eat you instead?” he said after they parted.

Tanjiro licked his lips. His hands were still buried in Rengoku’s hair, and he used them to pull him down and pepper more into his lips.

“Later,” Tanjiro promised, lingering. “You said you’d make those fluffy pancakes again. You swore up and down you couldn’t cook, but then you surprised me with those pancakes!”

“I just followed the recipe!” Rengoku said. “Nezuko assisted me.”

“Have her assist you again. Mm.” He stopped talking to keep kissing Rengoku. “Mm. Please?”

“For you,” Rengoku said into his mouth. They made out for another minute, and eventually Rengoku dragged himself away to start getting dressed. “And only for you! Because I love you!”

“Thank you,” Tanjiro replied. “And I love you, too!”

Rengoku moved into the bathroom to fix his hair and get started with his day. Tanjiro pushed his face into his pillow and breathed it in, realizing that for once, he wasn’t thinking about anything. He wasn’t worrying about anything. He just wanted to spend the morning with his husband, hang out with his sister, and just… be.

Maybe I’ll stay in bed a little longer, he thought, lulled by the sounds of Rengoku moving in and out of their room. For a while.