Uncontrollable Trauma | Nakamoto Yuta

I. 1

Hey.... What's up... here's the first chapter, not 100% happy with it, but still decently happy with it:)

Enjoy

50/50 edited-

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June 8th 2019

   Looking at the time, he started getting a bit worried, It's already eight... when is he coming home? Biting his lip, he took another bite of his ramen, he had wanted to make something healthier or better overall than just packaged ramen, but he was too tired having worked from six A.M to five in the afternoon at the restaurant, walking every which way to serve customers, some ruder than others, having to help wash the many dishes due to them being understaffed, and he just doesn't have the energy to make something better; he just hopes Sicheng won't mind.

   He was curled in the corner of the couch in their rather large apartment watching a show on Netflix with a warm blanket by himself when he heard the front door of the apartment unlocking, and couldn't help the small rush of anxiety as he turned to look over the back of the couch to see his lover enter through the door and slip off his shoes. Getting up, he set his bowl on the coffee table, walking up to greet him with a soft kiss on the lips, "Hey... how was work?"

   "Hey Baby," Sicheng greeted, voice tired. "The office was a whole mess." The taller all but slumped into the chair at the dining table before asking, "What'd you make for dinner?"

   Slipping into the kitchen, Yuta poured ramen from the pot into a bowl, grabbing a pair of chopsticks, "I was tired from work... I only had the energy to make some ramen again..." he placed the bowl in front of the other. He was a bit nervous, fidgeting with the helm of his –actually Sicheng's– oversized t-shirt. It was the fifth day in a row that they've eaten ramen and he knew the taller was tired of it, but he's just can't find the energy to make anything else, usually it would be Sicheng that would cook, but he was busy with a big project at work and would get home later than usual. Despite not being the best cook, he wanted to help out and do what he can to help his boyfriend so that he could relax when he got home, so he decided to take on cooking for the two of them in the meantime.

He turned to go back to the livingroom and finish his own serving, but a hand tight around his wrist stopped him. "Yah. You couldn't have made anything else?" Sicheng hissed, annoyance clear in his sharp eyes.

"I-I was tired! And you know I'm not the best at cooking!" Yuta defended himself, tugging his arm, wanting to return to his cozy blanket on the couch as his bare legs were starting to get cold.

Sicheng stood up, chair making an ugly screech against the wood, turning to face him. "And? So am I and I can't cook for us everyday. You couldn't have made fried rice? Soup? Stew? Kimbap? You work at a restaurant for fuck's sake Yuta." he spat.

Not wanting to meet the other's glare he looked at the floor, guilt and shame flooding his mind. He must be tired from working... the least I could've done was make something homemade for him... "I'm sorry... I'm just... just.." I'm so fucking stupid, tsk.

He heard Sicheng let out a deep sigh before he let go of his wrist, "Just, just fuck off."

Not wanting to anger the younger any more, he walked past the living room, not bothering to finish his ramen, and into their bedroom to sleep it off.