Not Until I Say So

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As Hizashi shut the front door, he was quite awed by how fast the day had truly flown by. Summer was known for its long, lazy hours that dragged on and on until someone looked at the clock only to shout "it's only two?" before contenting themselves to the agony of time dragging by. He liked to spend his days being busy. To fly from one thing to the next, to happily throw himself into activities or going out on little lunch dates with Shouta.

Dates that led into them spending the afternoon out of the house where they would then get dinner. He liked to sit on the back porch, a cigarette or joint pinched between his fingers while Shouta sat next to him with a glass of wine and his phone or even their Switch in his hands as he gamed quietly next to him. He liked to watch the sun rise with its sweet pinks, pale golds and stunning purples.

Liked to see the sunset with those burnt oranges, ruby red and deep golds of the fading light. He wanted to watch the sky grow lighter at the start of their day then grow darker at the end of it. However, he wasn't opposed by how slow most mornings went. This one was included in that. Their morning had gone by rather slowly. Starting when Shouta had seemed content in crushing his air out of his lungs when he crawled on top of him.

Not that he could ever -would ever- complain. After all, he'd loved having him laying out on top of him like that. Content with having his face tucked into his throat with the vibrations of his snores. Being squeezed tightly against the man. Laying there, arms wrapped around his waist, relishing in tucking his hands under his shirt and twisting his legs together with the black-haired man's when they rolled onto their sides.

He had happily delighted in a little more sleep after managing to take his glasses off and place them on the bedside table, cuddling the black-haired man who hummed contentedly before he dropped off again into sleep. He'd woken only a few hours later to find himself alone; the sheets next to him held only the faintest traces of warmth. He'd then dragged himself out of bed, putting his glasses and hearing aids in frantically.

He'd assumed at first something was wrong but he was quickly tugged out of bed by Eri and he trudged out of the bedroom to the kitchen where Eri came to a stop in front of his husband, bouncing on her toes happily as Shouta tied her hair back into a ponytail. She'd shouted delightedly when he appeared in the doorway of their little hallway, squinting against the brightness as his daughter babbled at him a mile a minute as Shouta ordered the girl to stop bouncing.

Holding a blue ribbon in his hand that he pinned in place and she held herself still before resuming the bounce once it was pinned in place. He'd been amazingly disoriented those first few hours upon wakening; he never truly was a morning person first thing in the morning. It was hard to focus, there was too much hitting him at once. So much. He had to remember to take his pills on top of eating, on getting ready and everything else that assaulted him all at once.

It was perhaps this reason he had Shouta snapping at him so often when he snapped once at the black-haired man when he questioned if there was any tea left. It was something he was still apologizing profusely for but the black-haired man remained snappish with him which he quite deserved. But Shouta had been snappish for about three days now. Ever since the little bliss of that fisting wore off Shouta began insisting he was fine for regular sex again.

Staring at him with those all too familiar flames of determination each time he tried saying he was fine but Hizashi was still hesitant. And then Shouta had pouted when he refused. Insisted that Shouta needed more time. And with them getting their lesson plans together, going over last-minute things, his husband's surly attitude worsened. When it came time for bed, the black-haired man merely pouted and offered his back to him those first few days.

This, at first, had left him confused. He merely had only the best interests in mind for his husband, wanting him to recuperate after having a literal fist in him but as always his husband was impatient. While he knew Shouta understood that, the pout when he stopped their kissing before it could get too heated, putting a stop to everything merely got worse. Of course he tried fixing it, tried to make promises they'd do it soon, only to have his husband tell him in that equally surly tone it was fine.

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