Work Text:
Hajime glances around at the spotless space around him, with all the new food items and kitchen appliances now put in their correct places and tucked into various cabinets and fridges. He puts his hands on his hips with a smile on his face, the payoff of hardwork washing over him.
“Yup, we definitely got everything.”
Mahiru rolls her eyes, slipping knives into their correct places on the knife block. “It took long enough. We nearly spent the entire afternoon doing this!”
Hajime could only offer a half-smile in response, wandering over to where Mahiru stood and leaning against the sink next to her. “I know. It would’ve gone by much faster if it was Hanamura doing this, but he’s off on the mainlands.”
“Yeah,” Mahiru says, her eyebrows scrunching up further. “It would’ve. And you and Souda were the ones who were supposed to be on this job, until he totally faked hurting his arm!”
Hajime scratches his head. “It didn’t seem fake-”
“It’s definitely fake. That guy needs to man up if he wants to actually make a contribution to the island. Do you know how much-”
Hajime tunes out halfway through Mahiru’s rant, only nodding distantly and offering small noises of acknowledgements as she goes on to complain about how she thinks Kazuichi’s been slowly but surely getting lazier with his tasks.
In all honesty, Hajime hadn’t noticed it but maybe there’s some sense to what she’s saying. He figures he’d have a talk with him afterwards, seeing that he was probably the only one who could if Kazuichi really was slacking in his tasks. He just hopes it’s for a reason like, he’s working on a birthday present for Mikan (since that’s coming up) rather than something like going through a very possible depressive episode.
It was commonplace for a lot of the former students of Class-77B to experience those, even if it had been years since the actual Tragedy, and Hajime could only gently note this to Mahiru mid-rant.
She pauses, and sighs, turning around to speak to him fully. “Yeah, that’s also true…maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on him.”
“Maybe,” Hajime says, and offers her a sympathetic smile, and she smiles back softly before he hears the door swing open and in comes Nagito, with a very evident frown on his face.
His frown only deepens when he takes in the scene of Hajime and Mahiru so warmly (and platonically) staring at each other, and in, what Hajime just noticed, close proximity.
He immediately takes a step back, and says, “Hi, honey.” Fuck if he was going to deal with Nagito’s jealousy right now…although, he admits, it could be extremely amusing at times.
“Hi…” Nagito says, not even trying to coat the suspicion in his tone, the crease in his eyebrow as prominent as ever. “So terribly sorry to interrupt the tender moment, but the power isn’t working on the third island.”
“Yes, it is.” Hajime says immediately, pointedly ignoring the drip of sarcasm in his words because he knew for sure that he literally just fixed that this morning. Normally that was Kazuichi’s job, but seeing that he was MIA for the day Hajime had to substitute for him, similar to how Mahiru had to fill in for his kitchen sorting duties.
“It’s not.”
“Yes, it is, Nagito, I just fixed it this morning.”
“Mmm,” Nagito hums, “No it’s not.”
Now this is getting ridiculous. “Are you doubting me?”
“I’m not doubting you, Hajime~” Nagito muses, and finally the corner of his lips perk up, their back to forth obviously making him a little lighter. “You’re just wrong.”
“Then show me,” Hajime says, and stalks over to where Nagito stands by the doorway. Nagito only smiles, seemingly satisfied that he’s getting the reaction he wants, before turning back, distantly saying his goodbye to Mahiru who was still standing in the kitchen.
Hajime waves to her before he leaves behind Nagito, and then all of a sudden he’s being shoved against the wall.
He lets out an indigidant yelp, before Nagito connects their lips smoothly and any previous annoyance he held towards the white-haird man currently pinning him in place disappears like that as he melts against the wall.
He leans his face up into the kiss, accommodating to those few inches his husband has on him before Nagito finally pulls away, and glances down at him blankly with pale cheeks coated in a gentle pink.
“W-What-”
Then he’s being pulled by the hand, outside of the hotel and Nagito’s saying, “You didn’t do a very good job fixing the power, Hajime,”
As if they didn’t just share a kiss! Hajime decides not to note it though, and only replies with a good-natured, “You’re full of shit, you know that?”
Nagito only chuckles softly in response, and squeezes his hand as they make the trek across the first island. “You won’t be saying that when you see I’m right.”
“But you’re not.”
“No, I am.”
Hajime can only groan, and their banter continues on like that for a while as they walk hand-in-hand together. Even after all this time, their relationship had stayed the same from when they were teenagers to when they were grown-ass men, married and everything. Albeit a week into their marriage.
But, it wasn’t like he minded so much.
“What the fuck??” Comes Hajime’s response when he sees that the power is indeed, down on the third island. It’s been about a good twenty times that he’s flipped the light switch on and off in the Titty Typhoon and tried the sinks in the bathroom.
Nagito stands beside an unamused Gundham, who had evidently been harboring the same irritation as Nagito before he’d gone to complain to Hajime. “Well. Now you believe me?”
Hajime lets out a loud huff of annoyance. “I was literally just here. This morning!”
“It appears only the pink one is capable of completing the arduous task of bringing life to what we know is the third island of Jabberwock.” Gundham adds unhelpfully and Hajime groans louder.
“I - damn it, okay, I’m gonna go fix this shit. Seriously, what the fuck.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and all but storms out of Titty Typhoon without another look at his husband or Gundham.
Nagito pops his head out of the doorway, and calls out to him, “So you admit I was right then?”
“Yes, Nagito, fuck off!” There’s no real spite in his words, or anger, because Nagito only laughs in response, the sound soft in the spring air.
“I love you, Hajime! Thank you for helping us!” He chirps, and he can hear a good-natured scoff come from beside his husband, no doubt Gundham in response to their antics.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever,” Hajime waves him off, even when a smile is enveloping his face at his husband’s words and quelling the sharp exasperation from before. He hears another peal of laughter, and it’s enough to make his heart warm.
Once he’s out of eyesight and Nagito’s laughter has faded away completely, he sighs, his stomp settling into a casual stroll in the direction of Electric Avenue. He lets himself relax a little, now that he’s come to terms with the fact that Nagito had the upper hand on him again, and that he hadn’t been able to fix the power correctly. Not that it would take a while anyways, it wasn’t anything that truly, truly bothered him.
He breathes in the scent of the warm afternoon, citrus and misty dewdrops thick in the atmosphere, and birds chirping overhead.
He’s still pretty pissed at the turn of events, he was so sure it’d been working when he fixed it this morning. He guesses he would just have to make sure he double checked it this time around.
He absently begins cracking his knuckles as his mind wanders towards what could’ve gone wrong, and in doing so he rubs over each of his fingers, mindlessly going to twist the ring on his left hand-
Only to find nothing there.
He immediately halts in his steps, his balance almost being thrown off as his feet jerk him back. His mind goes blank for a second before he holds his left palm out in front of his face, finding no sign of the silver band wrapped around his finger.
He flips his hand around, as if a mistake had been made, no, a mistake had surely been made because where the fuck else could his ring be if not on him?
But it’s not there. The engagement ring Nagito had given him on the day of their anniversary, all those days and months ago, probably accounting to a year now, is simply…gone.
Although it would make more sense to wear his actual wedding ring, the one that’s matching with the one on Nagito’s finger right now, it had been sent back to the mainland to be fixed after they found out the sizing had been wrong.
Sure, he probably would have fixed it himself with his many talents, but Nagito had sent it back before Hajime could do anything. Nagito had insisted that it wasn’t right for Hajime to have to do it himself, and he’d already felt bad enough that he’d gotten the sizing wrong in the order.
Hajime didn’t really mind at all, opting to wear his engagement ring in the time it would take for his marriage ring to come. But now that it was…just gone…
Hajime holds his left hand to his chest as he begins walking again, steadying his increasing heart rate and controlling his breathing that’s becoming shakier with each exhale.
Okay. This is fine. It’s probably in his cottage, somewhere. Yes, it probably fell off sometime while he was sleeping, or it was lying around on the floor. There was nowhere else it could be.
He let the thought console him for the rest of the afternoon.
When Hajime successfully fixes the third island’s power, finishes with all of his work, makes sure everything is actually working this time, and eats dinner, he darts into his (and Nagito’s) cottage none too fast and all but throws the door closed, ripping his shoes off.
Even though he’d kept murmuring meaningless self-assurances to himself throughout the afternoon, doing everything in his power to keep his anxiety in check, to say he’s fucking stressed is an understatement.
He first starts with their bed. He throws the sheets off along with his and Nagito’s pillow, patting down every single edge on the bedding and feeling around for the familiar bump of the ring. He glances around for the gleam of the shining jade of his ring, lifts the mattress from its spot on the bed, crawls underneath the bed, until he’s worn out and given up on the idea that he’d lost it in his sleep.
He checks their nightstand. He rummages through the junk on it, absentmindedly throwing out tissues, used paperclips, an empty lube bottle. He yanks open the drawers and roughly looks through his section of socks, figuring maybe when he’d been digging out a sock, the ring had been caught on something. He removes his entire drawer and dumps the socks on the bed, and still.
Nothing.
He checks the couch, the cracks between the cushions, behind it. Nothing.
Hajime’s starting to really fucking panic.
He runs a hand through his hair as he enters their shared bathroom, looking down the sink, in their toothbrush holders, the compartment in the bathroom mirror. He warily glances at the toilet, before immediately scowling and going to the shower. If he’d dropped it in the toilet, that was it.
He scans around the area of the shower, and when he doesn’t see anything, he peers down the drain of the shower. He gulps as he realizes that if it somehow slipped into the drain, that would be it as well. But no, that isn’t even possible. The gaps in the drain aren’t big enough to fit his ring, he knows that.
But the thought doesn’t do much to help his increasing anxiety and he can sense a panic attack on the horizon. His breathing is starting to grow labored, his skin becoming clammy with sweat, and his hands trembling.
“Fuck, what am I - what am I supposed to-” He murmurs feverishly to himself, while walking out of the bathroom, and rechecking all the areas he’d searched before.
He checks shelves, he checks corners, every single nook and cranny until he’s practically turned the entire place upside down and until tears are running down his face and he can’t quite focus on his thoughts anymore.
And he’s so absolutely wrecked that he can’t even channel it into anger this time, instead crumpling into a heap on the bed and letting himself sob his eyes raw as his heart squeezes anxiously and his stomach churns with gnawing, biting dread.
How could he have let this happen…?
How? How? How?
Something like this has never happened before in the past. He always made sure he had it on his finger, he was always so careful with it and now, it’s just fucking gone…?
It’s almost funny, considering how he just got married and now his engagement ring is nowhere to be fucking seen. Someone out there is definitely telling him that he should’ve just dealt with his marriage ring, wrong size or not, instead of letting Nagito send it all the way back to the mainland.
But no, he doesn’t care if his marriage ring is coming in only a few days' time, that engagement ring had meant everything to him.
It was the one Nagito had given to him on their anniversary, the day he’d almost died only to be saved by Nagito’s protecting and loving arms, soothed by his gentle and airy, yet shaking voice. It was the one Nagito must have somehow chosen himself - even while they were stranded on the island.
And now, Hajime’s gone and lost it. He has all the possible talents in the world but he can’t even manage to keep track of his fucking ring?
What the fuck is wrong with you?
How can somebody be so fucking incompetent?
You’re supposed to be the Ultimate Hope, not the Ultimate Fuck Up. What will Nagito say? You’re going to make him sad, and he’s going to hurt himself, and - and -
“Nonono, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Nagito, I - oh god, fuck-” He holds his head in an attempt to somehow ground himself but it doesn’t help.
This reminds him vaguely of a time he’d lost a summer assignment for school, and he’d thrown up several times over how stressed he’d been and his parents had assured him that it was fine, he’d just have to redo it.
Not this time.
“Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod-” His vision is beginning to swim and his ears are ringing. He can’t even think at this point.
Hajime’s only been given a few meaningful gifts his entire life.
A Hope’s Peak pendant from his parents, another Hope’s Peak necklace from his parents after he’d aced his exams, a gift Kazuichi had given to him two birthdays ago, a photo album Mahiru had given them of him and Nagito over the years, some gifts from Nagito, and the ring.
The ring easily beats all of the others when it comes to which is the most important to him, which is the one he cherishes most, which is the one that means the most to him and…and the thought of it being gone for good makes him really close to emptying out everything that he’d eaten for dinner.
…And he does. Unsurprisingly.
When he leaves the bathroom about two hours later, he’s already washed his face, showered and cleaned his body, and brushed his teeth in a sort of daze. He’d managed to calm himself down from his panic attack - he’s done it multiple times in the past now so it isn’t anything unfamiliar to him. But it still didn’t make the fervent self-hatred or pounding guilt go away.
How the fuck is he going to tell Nagito?
He sighs shakily, before letting his gaze rake across the cottage.
Nagito won’t be coming back until late into the night, probably around midnight. He’s busy helping Fuyuhiko with something urgent, so, Hajime thinks as he looks around the more or less destroyed room warily, he has a bit of time before Nagito comes back home.
He cleans up his mess, even as tears once again threaten to surface but he forces it away as he always does, and instead focuses on tucking the ends of the flying sheets underneath the mattress, and laying the thick comforter on.
When he’s finally finished, and the room doesn’t look like it’s been ransacked by some maniac, he puts the last sofa cushion into its rightful place and rubs his eyes in exhaustion before padding over to his bed, all but collapsing onto it. He tucks himself underneath the covers, pulling the comforter over himself protectively against the cool, conditioned air of the cottage.
He blinks blearily up at the ceiling, his mind numb, his muscles tense, and his hands trembling softly. He wills them to still, and they do.
But his mind remains in pieces, fragmented by the ever-present humming in his ear and the voice in his head telling him that this can only lead to cruel disaster, disaster that’ll end up further destroying his already fucked up mental state.
No. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, and it’ll all work itself out, as it always does. Right?
He’s not fully comfortable sleeping on that thought, but eventually, he does fall into the depths of slumber, even when his body feels unnaturally cold underneath the covers.
Hajime’s slowly coaxed awake when he hears Nagito open the door, lighting singing a familiar song underneath his breath.
He allows it to soothe him at first - the sound of Nagito’s footsteps approaching him and softly petting his hair, before kissing the scar across his forehead and disappearing into the bathroom to shower and wash up for the night.
He lets the smallest of smiles envelop his features when he hears Nagito dramatically groan in the bathroom after knocking over what’s probably a row of drugs in their bathroom mirror, then the loud, exaggerated gulps of him swallowing down his pills.
The distant sound of the shower and Nagito’s singing reverberates into the core of his heart, and apparently, it seems to lull him into another brief slumber before Nagito’s slipping under the covers with him and he’s wide awake again.
His body goes rigid when he feels Nagito against his back and Nagito probably senses it too, because he pauses for a moment, midway between pulling the covers over himself before whispering, “Are you awake?”
Hajime doesn’t reply, instead letting his breathing even out and his posture go boneless as if the strings being pulled on his shoulders were freshly cut away. Nagito’s quiet, before he eventually buys the act and sighs, melting into the sheets and curling up behind Hajime.
He opts to be the big spoon for the night, wrapping an arm around Hajime’s body firmly and protectively and burying his nose into the small tufts of hair on the back of Hajime’s neck. Hajime sighs softly through his nose, and lets himself relax into the tight hold.
There was something about Nagito’s embraces he found himself absolutely enamored by - whether it was the way Nagito’s boney, shaking arms fit perfectly around his frame, the way Nagito held him with such a sureness and passion, the way he filled Hajime’s heart with a steadying warmth, he wasn't sure.
Hajime’s dazed, bubble of romantic thoughts all of a sudden disperses and scatters when Nagito’s hand goes to rub across his left one, searching for his ring finger.
He means to pull away before Nagito brushes over where the silver ring should be on his finger, but he’s too late, because immediately, he goes as still as an untouched pond at the break of dawn and the realization that Nagito knows is enough to make his blood go cold and his stomach churn all over again.
Hajime, almost manically, yanks his hand away, making the white haired man jerk away from him in shock from how fast he’d moved, and he holds his left hand to his chest protectively, his heart beating loud and fast.
“H…Hajime?”
Nagito’s voice is quiet, but the words spoken come out in complete perplexity. Hajime squeezes his eyes shut, and evening out his breathing is getting more and more difficult with each passing second that Nagito spends scrutinizing him and watching his back. He can feel tears building in the back of his eyes and it hurts, it all just fucking hurts so much.
Hajime’s not sure how much time passes before Nagito makes a small noise in the back of his throat and goes to slowly wrap his arm back around Hajime’s back and press up against him again. But this time, the embrace is careful and hesitant, almost as if he were hugging something made of glass.
And when Nagito noses into the back of his neck in that familiar, homey way of his, his breathing seems to be unsteady. Hajime can only guess what’s running through his husband’s mind and his heart twists in guilt, and yet thinking of the inevitable conversation they were bound to have the next day made him sick to his stomach.
When his body eventually shuts down and gives in to sleep, his dreams are riddled with nightmares and horrific contortions, and yet, he doesn’t fear it so much anymore.
Hajime’s fishing for a shirt in his wardrobe when he hears Nagito wake up. Nagito’s already groaning in all his morning exhaustion, rubbing his eyes and unnecessarily smacking his lips loudly but Hajime doesn’t care to make any comments on it this time, instead pulling out a soft, baby blue button-up.
He can feel Nagito turn his gaze onto him and it automatically makes him tense up, being watched as he precariously buttons up his shirt. Eventually, his husband clears his throat and rasps, “Good morning, my love.”
“Morning.” He says briskly, and it comes off awfully cold he can’t help but wince. Tense silence envelops the room and he sighs under his breath before grabbing his work bag off the couch. He has a lot of emails and papers to write up, and he’d rather work in the library than in the cottage today.
He makes his way for the door before he hears a quiet voice call out, “Baby.”
He stops in place and turns to Nagito, who’s sitting up in bed now and harbors eyes that are full yet indecipherable. He can’t get a good read on his husband this time around, what with the sun shining and reflecting off of them in a hazy glow and the way they flick across his face with a tentativeness even he can’t quite identify.
“Yeah?”
Nagito’s silent for a few long seconds before he softly whispers, “Come say goodbye to me…?”
Despite how uneasy he may feel, a warm smile still manages to stretch across his face as he walks over to his husband and leans down to kiss him on the lips, cupping his cheek with one hand.
Nagito hums into it and gently places his hand over Hajime’s, smiling against his flushed lips. It doesn’t take long before Hajime’s heart begins fluttering in his chest, and he’s deepening the kiss until all of a sudden, Nagito’s fingers press against his own and Hajime realizes just what Nagito’s trying to confirm.
He jerks back entirely, his eyes wide and panicked.
Fuck.
He glances down and sees that his right hand has been preoccupied with the work bag, meaning that of course it had to be his left that was holding Nagito so tenderly only moments before.
When their eyes meet briefly, he can see how wounded Nagito’s are, and it’s enough to make him tear his eyes away and turn around sharply. It’s the only thing he can do unless he wants to break down and confess right then and there, which he certainly does not.
He murmurs a hushed goodbye before making a beeline towards the door, but it isn’t enough to miss the small, “wait,” that comes from his husband. He pretends to have not heard it.
That evening, right after he eats his dinner which had been unsatisfying to his churning stomach, he sits at the beach, with tan knees drawn up close and firm to his chest.
The day had gone by considerably slowly, and he thinks back on all the work he’d been able to finish, perusing the emails he’d been sent and typing up reports before spending the rest of his day with his friends.
The exception being Nagito of course - he’d spent the majority of the entire day avoiding the white-haired man as best as he could. At dinner, he’d swiftly sat with Kazuichi and Gundham rather than with his husband, Sonia, and Nekomaru a few tables over.
It wasn’t normal for Hajime to behave like this, not at all, and it was made evident to even Kazuichi, who’d curiously asked him why he wasn’t sitting with Nagito. Hajime had only shrugged, before distractedly changing topics. He was almost a hundred percent sure Nagito had heard everything, because when he glanced over, Nagito’s eyes were large and downcast, his entire body slumped.
He’s going to have to talk to him at some point - he can tell this is probably hurting Nagito just as much as it’s killing him. But he knows that prolonging the conversation will do the both of them good - he can get time to collect his thoughts and figure out how the fuck he’s going to break it to Nagito, and Nagito can continue living in temporary ignorance, the shock and pain of Hajime’s failure delayed.
But who is he trying to convince?
Put plainly and simply, he’s just…selfish. That’s the only reason he’s not telling Nagito, isn’t it?
God, he’s so-
Hajime’s abruptly ripped from his rabbit hole of thoughts when he hears a body drop next to him and he doesn’t even have to look to know who it is.
His body freezes up, and he opens his mouth to say something, an excuse to get him away and he’s already beginning to shuffle to his feet before Nagito whispers brokenly, “Please don’t go.”
The crack in his voice is enough to stop Hajime, and he drops back down on the sand with a thud much too soft for the sharp tension in the air, the grains flying out briefly. He blinks and he feels Nagito slowly turn his gaze upon him, making him hang his head down. He pulls his knees back up to his chest without realizing.
“I don’t know what I did, Hajime.” Nagito says softly. “I’ve thought, and I’ve thought, and I’ve scoured every part of my mind for something I could’ve done to make you act like this, to - to make you stop wearing it, but I,” Nagito cuts himself off, words seemingly getting caught in his throat as his face scrunches up in anguish.
Hajime’s heart aches dully in his chest. “You didn’t do anything.” He mutters, and he can only feel Nagito stare at the side of his head blankly.
“No?” Nagito’s voice is taking on a dangerous edge that Hajime vaguely recognizes as frustration, teetering on anger and it makes him wince. “Then why are you avoiding me? Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”
Hajime can’t find any words to say.
“You can’t even look at me? Hajime.” Nagito sounds desperate, and reluctantly, he drags his eyes over to meet Nagito’s and when they do, he sees those washed up green eyes begin to well with tears.
“I don’t know.” He replies quietly.
Nagito scoffs incredulously, before getting to his feet hastily and pulling something out of his pocket and Hajime’s eyes widen into saucers when he sees exactly what Nagito has in his hand-
It’s his ring.
He has to blink several times to confirm that yes, the tiny, little silver circlet with the gleaming green gem that he’d practically tore his cottage apart for last night was right there, in Nagito’s hands.
Relief floods his entire being as he begins breaking into a smile and says, “Y-You-”
“I found this.” Nagito interrupts him, his face pulled taut and it’s enough to make any alleviation Hajime had felt rush out of him like a broken dam. “I found this in the trash this morning, Hinata-kun.”
…
Wh-
What?
Hajime’s mouth drops open as he stares, frozen in shock from Nagito’s words. No. That’s not possible - no way in hell that was possible. How could that have even-
The memory comes back to him like a tidal wave.
Two nights ago, he’d been working late at night, probably past midnight, hunched over the desk he’d recently moved into their shared cottage with nothing but the night lamp illuminating his tired features and the papers strewn about the surface.
He remembers at one point, he’d started spacing out, as he often did when he worked past his bedtime, and he must have absentmindedly removed his ring and toyed with it. He likes doing that - it grounds him and serves as a silent voice of reassurance.
He’d yawned, before putting his ring down somewhere on the desk, most likely on the used napkins from his coffee and in all his sleep-deprivation, he must have forgotten it had even been there and thrown it out with the rest of the trash on his desk.
Hajime’s brought back to the present when he hears Nagito make a sound in the back of his throat, and he’s hit with a sudden wave of shame, stammering much to his own chagrin, “Nagito, wait-”
“If I had known you didn’t want to get married, or - or that you didn’t want to be with me, or that you hate everything about this- ” He gestures between the space between them furiously, his eyes full of pained fury, “I would’ve never even done this in the first place! Why would you make me believe that you would ever truly love me?! Y-You can’t just, just throw this out as if it - it means n-nothing to you! As if I mean nothing to you!”
Hajime’s getting to his feet now, panic settling in on him and desperation taking over as Nagito’s words pierce him painfully. “No, no, Nagito, it’s not, it’s not what you think, please just listen to me-”
“U-Unless it really doesn’t mean anything to you, and this entire time you’ve been miserable with me.” Tears are beginning to spill freely down Nagito’s cheeks now, and he chokes on his words as he says, “Is that it, Hajime? Do you regret everything? Do you not love me?!”
“Nagito!” Hajime grabs hold of Nagito’s shoulders and Nagito’s sobs grow louder as he holds the ring to his chest, legs quivering and body trembling violently. At this rate, he’s never going to get anywhere because Nagito’s shaking his head, refusing to meet Hajime’s frustrated gaze and weakly trying to struggle away.
“You’re going to leave me, you’re going to leave me just like the rest and - and you’re going to be with s-someone else, and forget about me, and-“ He splutters deliriously, until finally, Hajime’s emotions boil over the edge and he snaps.
“Will you just LISTEN to me for one fucking second, Nagito?!” He shouts, the pain reaching his voice and his eyes flaring in a sudden burst, the turmoil and chaos he’d endured last night reflecting in his every word. “One FUCKING second?!”
“Hajime, I love you…”
The teary response stuns Hajime, and he widens his eyes, staring at Nagito through a slight haze much too beautiful in the shaky atmosphere around them. Sunlight washes down over Nagito’s eyes, which are large, wet, and absolutely broken, his shaking body all of a sudden going limp in Hajime’s grip on his shoulders.
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you too much to let you go, baby, p-please don’t be mad at me, please don’t leave me again…” He half-whispers, half-sobs, and he melts into Hajime’s embrace as he practically collapses into his arms in a quivering mess.
Hajime catches him effortlessly and he holds him there, his face caught between an empty sort of expression and a soft, blank look of understanding. No, not exactly of understanding, more of searing, burning guilt.
He stays motionless, only holding Nagito gently as he sobs and hiccups against his shoulder, muttering a thousand “I love you’s,” and begging mindlessly. Hajime knows he needs to shut this down, and he needs to shut it down fast before it spirals out of control and out of his steadying hands, except this time, he’s not so sure he can do it as sure-minded as always.
Even so, one of his hands gradually reaches up to caress Nagito’s hair, and Nagito reacts with a shaky sigh, holding onto him tighter and mumbling something fast and desperate underneath his breath.
“Nagito.” He speaks slowly, and he wills his emotions back down to the bottom of his throat. Nagito tenses at the sound of his name, and his crying grows quiet, encouraging Hajime to push on. “I didn’t throw the ring away. I…I lost it, as pathetic and careless as it sounds, and if you saw me last night, you would know I’d practically wrecked our entire cottage to find it…”
Nagito’s silent for several heartbeats, and for some reason, the silence makes Hajime’s controlled anxiety begin to fluctuate inside his chest. Hajime’s hand fists softly into Nagito’s tresses, and his vision is blurring.
“Granted, I didn’t, because I’m fucking useless b-but…I…fuck, you don’t even understand Nagito,” He says thoughtlessly, and by now Nagito’s slowly backing his head away from the crook of Hajime’s neck where he was hiding before to look him into the eyes.
“I was so fucking scared I lost it for good and I didn’t know where it was or how you would react and or what the fuck I was even going to do but now it’s right here in your hands and I feel so stupid and I’m so sorry for ever fucking…” He rambles, and he doesn’t feel the tears falling from his eyes so much as he feels Nagito beginning to softly embrace him again, in that protecting hold of his Hajime so finds himself enraptured by.
“F-For - for-“ He tries again, but when Nagito shushes him so quietly in a voice with the smallest traces of anguish and tears, he breaks down completely and now it is he who is shatters, crying uncontrollably and shaking in his husband’s embrace, thoughts scattering completely.
And Nagito holds him through it, rocks him gently and whispers soft words along the lines of,
“Oh, Hajime…”
“Please don’t cry,”
“I love you so much.”
“It’s okay, everything is okay now…”
He can tell Nagito is still torn up, the whiplash of emotions still rippling through his body in the way their breathing patterns are of the same instability, but Nagito’s tears run down his face in a slow cascade rather than a torrent of waves, and he holds Hajime with a sureness unlike anything Hajime’s felt before.
He doesn’t know how Nagito does it sometimes, and it makes him cry harder. He clutches onto the back of Nagito’s shirt, hands trailing up to his hair and burying his nose in his pale neck.
“I’m so sorry…” His voice comes out muffled and stilted, and Nagito only hushes him more, telling him over and over that it was okay, that he wasn’t to blame.
He has no clue why he’s so upset anyways - the ring is right there with Nagito, isn’t it?
Perhaps it’s the relief hitting him, or the guilt of making Nagito feel so distressed over something they could’ve easily talked about - he should’ve known that with Nagito’s luck and his insight, they’d be able to find it together. Or perhaps it’s the entirety of the situation, the fear that he’d felt when he thought he’d lost it.
Nagito whispers, “Hajime,” into his ear, and his name sounds fragile on Nagito’s tongue. He murmurs other soft reassurances in a hushed kind of voice and fills Hajime’s mind with a delicate void that blankets his thoughts in a comforting embrace that Hajime finds himself hiccuping and crying to.
He’s given a vague sense of deja vu to the time when they’d gotten into a fight on that one trip back from the mainlands, and it always seems like it starts and ends the same.
Nagito breaks down first and Hajime follows, almost like an instantaneous effect they have on each other. The thought almost makes Hajime laugh.
Eventually, when Hajime calms down just a little, and Hajime’s beginning to grow aware of how long they’d been in the same position with how his legs begin to ache, Nagito says, “Haji, let me see you.”
Hajime blinks dazedly, before he peels his wet cheek off of where it had been resting on Nagito’s shoulder and looks at him. He backs up completely, extricating his arms from their hold around Nagito’s midsection and lets a small sigh escape him at the loss of warmth. He’s sure he looks like a mess, but his husband is no better, his expression tired and riddled with dry tears yet soft all the same in the glow of the melting, afternoon sun.
Nagito carefully smiles at him, and it reaches his eyes beautifully before he brings Hajime’s left hand up, and with his mechanical one, where he’s kept the ring tucked between his fingers, he motions for Hajime to spread his own.
Hajime understands, and he complies with waiting eyes as he watches Nagito slip the ring back on his finger. Tears silently stream down his cheeks again, and no noises manage to escape him except for a small whimper when Nagito brings his left hand up to lay kisses all over it.
“I love you so much,” He says against Hajime’s hand, and Hajime blushes, his heart bursting and his mind completely reduced to mush and without thinking, he yanks his hand back. Nagito breathes in sharply, and he looks up in a mixture of confusion and hurt before Hajime pulls him in for a rough kiss on the lips and just like that, he’s melting against Hajime once again.
The kiss lasts for several minutes, and leaves them both breathless and gasping for air, Nagito more so than Hajime and Hajime wants to laugh at how completely debauched his husband looks. He smiles as he feels Nagito’s arms around his neck tighten, Nagito’s breath on his mouth warming his entire body.
“H-Hajime,” Nagito stammers, and the violent, rosy hues on his cheeks have never looked so gorgeous.
“Nagito.” Hajime says gently, and strokes his sides with the hands resting on his waist.
“I…” He swallows, and he glances away before turning back and saying, “T-This is my fault. I should’ve just tried speaking to you calmly before accusing you, or confronting you last night when I felt it was gone. You know I never want to make you upset, Hajime…but I just had to overreact…”
Nagito takes a deep breath, and shifts his arms slightly before continuing on, “I just always get so, so , terrified that one day, I’ll lose you - because you feel too good to be true sometimes. But, ahah, I know I have to stop, because it’s only hurting you too. I’m…I’m sorry, Hajime.”
Hajime’s speechless for a few stray seconds, words seeming to be lost on his tongue after not speaking properly for so long before his mind catches up to the present and he shakes his head defiantly. “No, are you kidding me? If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine. I should’ve just talked to you about this to begin with.
“Or, not be a fucking dumbass and forget where my ring was,” He cracks a small smile and Nagito only stares sympathetically.
“It wasn’t your fault, Hajme.”
Hajime lets out a breathless laugh, and his eyes trail down to Nagito’s lips, the urge to kiss him returning but he holds back for the sake of the light, yet still present tension in the atmosphere. “But…it feels like it was. I was so careless with something so special to me, Nagito, how can that not be my fault?”
“It was just an accident.” And apparently, he doesn’t even have to move first because Nagito’s already pressing a chaste, desperate kiss to his lips and when he pulls back, he whispers, “Hajime, please forgive yourself.”
The words linger in his mind, and he can’t even find it in him to reply as Nagito searches his face and gently nuzzles their foreheads together.
“It’s back on your hand now, isn’t it?” Nagito murmurs softly, and Hajime automatically glances down to where his ring is on his finger.
“Yeah…I - I guess so…”
“See?” Nagito laughs lightly and the sound is so abrupt that Hajime can’t help but break into a smile of his own before Nagito’s pulling him in for another kiss, this time cupping the back of his head. He knots boney fingers into Hajime’s choppy strands and Hajime sighs through his nose at the feeling.
He hums contently into the kiss, and pulls Nagito flush against his body, wrapping the arms around Nagito’s body tighter and tilting his head to deepen the kiss, drinking in every gasp he draws from the white-haired man and every sigh.
“Thank you.” He says when they break apart for air, and Nagito only laughs breathily, smiling fondly at him.
“You don’t need to thank me, Hajime.” He replies gently, and finally, he backs away from Hajime, breaking the embrace without breaking the tenderness of the moment. Hajime’s arms fall from their protective hold on Nagito, before Nagito’s taking his hands into his own and intertwining their fingers together romantically so that they’re holding hands and facing one another - positioned almost like they were in a movie, Hajime thinks giddily.
“Next time something happens, we work through it together, okay?” Nagito beams, and his voice is shaky yet it remains sure of itself, confident in all its fragility.
And Hajime only now notices that the dry tear tracks on his cheeks seem to shine against the orange sunlight washing over his features, and he takes in the sight of Nagito smiling, full and content even with the marks of affliction left behind.
He thinks back to how distraught he’d been, how it all could’ve been avoided had he just talked to Nagito. He wonders how many more times they’d have to go through anything similar to this, whether it was fights or misunderstandings or breakdowns in their marriage before they establish the sort of trust and comfort in a truly committed relationship like this.
Of course, the foundation of their marriage was already strong, but he knew, within time, it would be unshakeable.
As long as they had each other.
The distant roar of the ocean waves lulls him, the beating of waves against one another numbing his senses and he can barely just make out Nagito’s hand creating a gentle pressure on where his ring is.
“Okay.” He whispers, and when Nagito shuts his eyes in contentment, and his giggle comes out broken, he knows that he means it from the bottom of his heart.