[ Sleep, Kogami reflects, is one of the greatest necessary evils there are. It's an essentiality that puts all men on their backs, and Kogami has always been predisposed to be on it as little as possible. As a practical reflection of that philosophy, a couch has always sufficed for Kogami's needs -- it's efficient, multi-purpose, and of late, quite the pain in Gino's ass.
The problem with a couch is that it's too small for two full grown men -- it's barely even enough for Kogami, who has to sleep with his legs dangling off the side and has long made his peace with it.
Gino has made peace with precisely nothing in Kogami's apartment. While the man has been exceptionally tolerant with a lot of Kogami's shit, the thirtieth time of sprawling on a blanket on the floor after sex may have taken its toll, the idea of a bed surfaces with all the alacrity of a partner too damn tired of grinding his bones against the cold hard floor. Blankets can only insulate so much, and Kogami should consider a proper bed because the whole randy teenager blanket sex aesthetic is sexy once in awhile, but not when it becomes a staple in their (lovemaking) ...this. Whatever this is.
Kogami holds out for exactly sixteen and a half days.
Day sixteen and a half, Kogami contemplates the new presence in his room critically. It takes up too much space, this bed, and it's barebones, Kogami not actually inclined to get sheets and covers and other accoutrements for it quite yet. It's an invasion of his sanctum sanctorum, a glaring anomaly in the otherwise strictly utilitarian nature of his study room. Day fourteen and fifteen had been Kogami making space for it, trying not to think about what it means in the grand scheme of romantic development, and the half of day sixteen had been Kogami hard at work on assembling the bed frame himself, finally setting the mattress atop of it. If he's going to be here for the long haul to take Sibyl down together with Akane and Gino, might as well make the best of it.
It's a shirtless, sweaty Kogami (because moving a queen-sized mattress through the building and setting up a sturdy bed frame is a bitch) in the doorway of his room that greets Gino when he turns up.
[ Sleep is a necessary evil. Or, rather, necessary. Some days he felt more the former than the latter. But whatever the case, it was something that should be done on a proper surface. Like a bed. Gino was all about things being in the proper place and done in the correct way. There were some things he let bypass this, like the way that Kogami did his laundry (haphazard, frankly).
However, he was of the opinion that while they didn't always get a lot of sleep, it was best to get the most out of the hours they could get shut eye. Sleeping on a couch or on the floor was not conducive to a good night's rest, in his opinion. So he'd spent the last two weeks annoying Kogami enough to concede that a bed was a thing that was necessary in their now joined lives.
They'd picked it out, after probably way too much deliberation and arguing. And today, Kogami had spent most of his free time getting everything all moved in and constructed. Gino had taken it upon himself to fill in the blanks– which is to say, get blankets, sheets, pillows. The assortment. Akane had accompanied him, happily helping pick out colors and approving fabrics. All in all, he felt pretty happy.
When he lets himself into the apartment, Kogami looks a little harried, sweat glistening on his brow and along his neck. ]
Of course. Tsunemori gives you in particular her congratulations on "moving up in the world". [ There's clearly quotes there. His hands are too full to make them happen otherwise. Gino sets the shopping bags down near the end of the couch, crouching to rustle through one for a sheet set. Once found, he slips past Kogami into the room, a small smile lighting up his face. ]
This is nice. [ It's more of a murmur before he sets about making the bed, letting Kogami just look on. He'd done the really hard parts, after all. ]
[ Of course Gino would present himself with all the necessary items, Kogami notes, consciously not getting in the other man's way as he fishes out a bottle of water from the fridge in the kitchenette, taking a well-deserved swig. There is a particular kind of charm in watching Gino set up the rest of their bed, taking over so seamlessly that it's a reminder that this is theirs, not just Kogami's own, no matter how much grief Gino gives him over it.
Gino's presence in this apartment, the bed too big for Kogami alone, brings to mind a truth: the former is going to be a more frequent visitor to his apartment, a less temporary fixture, and he's not entirely sure what to feel about it. A curious sense of acceptance, he supposes -- after all, they're both consenting adults, and even before this whole thing came about they had been best friends. Even so, there is a surreal quality to this domesticity that Kogami cannot help but contemplate, the fact that it's happening to him when he's long assumed that such things will forever be out of reach. ]
I'm surprised, you're actually complimenting the setup. [ Kogami drawls as he leans against the doorway, fishing about for a cigarette to light up. There's a crooked smile that tugs at his mouth, a warmth to the upturn reserved only for Gino, and in response to Tsunemori's dry wit. Domesticity suits Gino, he muses, and it's not difficult to imagine pinning him down to the pillows, breaking in the bed, waking up to having him beside him, all warmth and life and indulging in something as mundane as sleep. ]
[ Gino smoothes the free sheet over the bed before he starts slipping the pillowcases on. It's mundane, making the bed, but it fills him with a kind of content happiness he hasn't had in a long time. Just the small things of home life. It makes him think of his family, before everything fell apart. Of sunlight filtering into his bedroom in the morning, Masaoka sitting on the edge of his bed and gently waking him for breakfast, big hand ruffling through his hair. He thinks of his mother, how she'd tuck him in tightly, sheets pulled all the way up to his chin before she gently pinched his nose and kissed him goodnight.
They're bittersweet memories, looking back. But he holds them close all the same.
And this, between he and Kogami, it's a step in that direction. A permanence, signified in a piece of furniture.
There's a ruffling sound as he unfurls the blanket, snapping his wrists to make sure it laid without as many creases. ]
Why wouldn't I? It really does look nice. [ He brushes out the wrinkle on the corner before stepping back to admire the work. Nothing fancy– he'll spruce it up over time– but it's theirs. ]
I'll have more of a reason to stay, if that's what you're asking. [ Gino slides his glance to Kogami, smile light. ]
[ More of a reason to stay, is it? Kogami's eyes warm at that comment despite himself -- despite the fact that they should be two fully-grown men and not randy teenagers, but somehow having Gino in this particular vicinity makes him feel both older and stupid all at once, and he finds that he can get used to the feeling. Gino looks gentler, softer now, and Kogami wonders if having a relationship like this is what changes people.
He's reaching out to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him closer without so much as a by-your-leave, he notices just how rare it is to actually see Gino happy. Worth the trouble, he supposes, if Kogami gets that kind of smile in return. Permanence in a piece of furniture, and he thinks of that as he speaks. ]
You think there should be a request sometime? An apartment. [ One, just for Kogami and Gino. Do they even approve of that for enforcers? ]
[ He's not expecting the sudden touching, but instead of stiffening like he'd done in the past, Gino simply relaxes. Lets his weight sag backwards a bit, shoulders sloping with it.
Once, he used to hate this casual touch. Felt it was unnecessary, that it made him weak to want it. Now he can't think of his life without it. Without Kogami on the other side, a reassuring line of warmth. Tilting his head, he considers the question– it takes him off guard a bit. Not because he didn't think Kogami capable, but. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Content to live day to day.
Turning a bit, he glances at his partner out of the corner of his eye, brows raised slightly. ]
[ It occurs to Kogami that this is one of Gino's enduring habits -- he doesn't assume that their... whatever this is, is a matter of course. They've definitely come a long way from where they had been before, but it seems that they still have quite a ways to go, if they ever get there at all. Gino is always poised to assume that all of this is transient, that nothing ever really stays, and Kogami knows he can't blame him.
After all, he knows himself; Kogami is as much of a flight risk as any, even if he'd chosen to be here, to destroy Sibyl from within.
Gino relaxes in his touch, now, he notices. It's a small improvement, but no less cherished. Kogami doesn't think twice, simply shifting to accommodate, an arm smoothly curling around his waist. The other hand plucks the unlit cigarette from between his lips; Gino doesn't much fancy kissing a human ashtray, and maybe there is something Kogami is craving more than nicotine, after all.
Today is a day of plenty of firsts. ]
I'm not sure what I'd do with all that unused space on your side of the bed.
[ He points out by way of response, because Kogami is not a wholly sentimental man, even if he does have his exceptions. And affections. Expressing himself is something he's never had much of an aptitude for. ]
[ Granted, Kogami is not one to take up so much space. Possibly too used to sleeping on the couch. Or, maybe he's always been like this. Gino never paid too strong attention to his sleeping habits before.
Still, there's something warming about Kogami even broaching the topic. That he's considered it and doesn't want to run in the other direction. He knows how much of an effort it must've been—neither of them are good at expressing themselves, but Kogami is worse about it in a lot of ways. ] I'm finding it hard to turn down, though; weighing the pros and cons nets more positives.
[ Kogami's curious, after all. Net positive is a good thing, but he would rather not be a narrow margin. Nuzzling against his cheek lightly, he squeezes his partner's waist. ]
You can take the arrangement for a test run, starting this evening.
[ It's not the only thing on the list and the answer is far more gentle than what else he has on there. But, as much as Kogami may want to know, he isn't going to divulge. Gino has learned his lesson in blunt truths and sharp comments. Sometimes, it's better to withhold; people can only change so much. ]
You're being bold for someone who eschewed the idea of a bed two days ago. [ He smiles as he says it, the words colored with warmth. ]
[ Kogami is certain that Gino has far worse up his sleeve, ready to be deployed at moments that are far less tranquil and warm than this. He knows his own shortcomings, aware of just how Gino has accommodated him in different things.
Really, he doesn't deserve this man and his patience.
He grasps his chin briefly, tipping his face up to give him a soft, fleeting kiss. ]
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no subject
The problem with a couch is that it's too small for two full grown men -- it's barely even enough for Kogami, who has to sleep with his legs dangling off the side and has long made his peace with it.
Gino has made peace with precisely nothing in Kogami's apartment. While the man has been exceptionally tolerant with a lot of Kogami's shit, the thirtieth time of sprawling on a blanket on the floor after sex may have taken its toll, the idea of a bed surfaces with all the alacrity of a partner too damn tired of grinding his bones against the cold hard floor. Blankets can only insulate so much, and Kogami should consider a proper bed because the whole randy teenager blanket sex aesthetic is sexy once in awhile, but not when it becomes a staple in their (lovemaking) ...this. Whatever this is.
Kogami holds out for exactly sixteen and a half days.
Day sixteen and a half, Kogami contemplates the new presence in his room critically. It takes up too much space, this bed, and it's barebones, Kogami not actually inclined to get sheets and covers and other accoutrements for it quite yet. It's an invasion of his sanctum sanctorum, a glaring anomaly in the otherwise strictly utilitarian nature of his study room. Day fourteen and fifteen had been Kogami making space for it, trying not to think about what it means in the grand scheme of romantic development, and the half of day sixteen had been Kogami hard at work on assembling the bed frame himself, finally setting the mattress atop of it. If he's going to be here for the long haul to take Sibyl down together with Akane and Gino, might as well make the best of it.
It's a shirtless, sweaty Kogami (because moving a queen-sized mattress through the building and setting up a sturdy bed frame is a bitch) in the doorway of his room that greets Gino when he turns up.
He grunts, by way of greeting: ]
You got sheets?
no subject
However, he was of the opinion that while they didn't always get a lot of sleep, it was best to get the most out of the hours they could get shut eye. Sleeping on a couch or on the floor was not conducive to a good night's rest, in his opinion. So he'd spent the last two weeks annoying Kogami enough to concede that a bed was a thing that was necessary in their now joined lives.
They'd picked it out, after probably way too much deliberation and arguing. And today, Kogami had spent most of his free time getting everything all moved in and constructed. Gino had taken it upon himself to fill in the blanks– which is to say, get blankets, sheets, pillows. The assortment. Akane had accompanied him, happily helping pick out colors and approving fabrics. All in all, he felt pretty happy.
When he lets himself into the apartment, Kogami looks a little harried, sweat glistening on his brow and along his neck. ]
Of course. Tsunemori gives you in particular her congratulations on "moving up in the world". [ There's clearly quotes there. His hands are too full to make them happen otherwise. Gino sets the shopping bags down near the end of the couch, crouching to rustle through one for a sheet set. Once found, he slips past Kogami into the room, a small smile lighting up his face. ]
This is nice. [ It's more of a murmur before he sets about making the bed, letting Kogami just look on. He'd done the really hard parts, after all. ]
no subject
Gino's presence in this apartment, the bed too big for Kogami alone, brings to mind a truth: the former is going to be a more frequent visitor to his apartment, a less temporary fixture, and he's not entirely sure what to feel about it. A curious sense of acceptance, he supposes -- after all, they're both consenting adults, and even before this whole thing came about they had been best friends. Even so, there is a surreal quality to this domesticity that Kogami cannot help but contemplate, the fact that it's happening to him when he's long assumed that such things will forever be out of reach. ]
I'm surprised, you're actually complimenting the setup. [ Kogami drawls as he leans against the doorway, fishing about for a cigarette to light up. There's a crooked smile that tugs at his mouth, a warmth to the upturn reserved only for Gino, and in response to Tsunemori's dry wit. Domesticity suits Gino, he muses, and it's not difficult to imagine pinning him down to the pillows, breaking in the bed, waking up to having him beside him, all warmth and life and indulging in something as mundane as sleep. ]
Does this mean you'll be coming over more often?
no subject
They're bittersweet memories, looking back. But he holds them close all the same.
And this, between he and Kogami, it's a step in that direction. A permanence, signified in a piece of furniture.
There's a ruffling sound as he unfurls the blanket, snapping his wrists to make sure it laid without as many creases. ]
Why wouldn't I? It really does look nice. [ He brushes out the wrinkle on the corner before stepping back to admire the work. Nothing fancy– he'll spruce it up over time– but it's theirs. ]
I'll have more of a reason to stay, if that's what you're asking. [ Gino slides his glance to Kogami, smile light. ]
no subject
He's reaching out to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him closer without so much as a by-your-leave, he notices just how rare it is to actually see Gino happy. Worth the trouble, he supposes, if Kogami gets that kind of smile in return. Permanence in a piece of furniture, and he thinks of that as he speaks. ]
You think there should be a request sometime? An apartment. [ One, just for Kogami and Gino. Do they even approve of that for enforcers? ]
no subject
Once, he used to hate this casual touch. Felt it was unnecessary, that it made him weak to want it. Now he can't think of his life without it. Without Kogami on the other side, a reassuring line of warmth. Tilting his head, he considers the question– it takes him off guard a bit. Not because he didn't think Kogami capable, but. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Content to live day to day.
Turning a bit, he glances at his partner out of the corner of his eye, brows raised slightly. ]
You'd want to? Really?
no subject
After all, he knows himself; Kogami is as much of a flight risk as any, even if he'd chosen to be here, to destroy Sibyl from within.
Gino relaxes in his touch, now, he notices. It's a small improvement, but no less cherished. Kogami doesn't think twice, simply shifting to accommodate, an arm smoothly curling around his waist. The other hand plucks the unlit cigarette from between his lips; Gino doesn't much fancy kissing a human ashtray, and maybe there is something Kogami is craving more than nicotine, after all.
Today is a day of plenty of firsts. ]
I'm not sure what I'd do with all that unused space on your side of the bed.
[ He points out by way of response, because Kogami is not a wholly sentimental man, even if he does have his exceptions. And affections. Expressing himself is something he's never had much of an aptitude for. ]
no subject
[ Granted, Kogami is not one to take up so much space. Possibly too used to sleeping on the couch. Or, maybe he's always been like this. Gino never paid too strong attention to his sleeping habits before.
Still, there's something warming about Kogami even broaching the topic. That he's considered it and doesn't want to run in the other direction. He knows how much of an effort it must've been—neither of them are good at expressing themselves, but Kogami is worse about it in a lot of ways. ] I'm finding it hard to turn down, though; weighing the pros and cons nets more positives.
no subject
[ Kogami's curious, after all. Net positive is a good thing, but he would rather not be a narrow margin. Nuzzling against his cheek lightly, he squeezes his partner's waist. ]
You can take the arrangement for a test run, starting this evening.
no subject
[ It's not the only thing on the list and the answer is far more gentle than what else he has on there. But, as much as Kogami may want to know, he isn't going to divulge. Gino has learned his lesson in blunt truths and sharp comments. Sometimes, it's better to withhold; people can only change so much. ]
You're being bold for someone who eschewed the idea of a bed two days ago. [ He smiles as he says it, the words colored with warmth. ]
no subject
Really, he doesn't deserve this man and his patience.
He grasps his chin briefly, tipping his face up to give him a soft, fleeting kiss. ]
Maybe I'm keeping an open mind.