Warm smiles and kisses
Kojiro smiles that warm, indulgent smile that Kaoru must have seen at least a hundred times this past week. Getting off that plane and seeing that mop of green hair above an obnoxiously loud shirt that was only halfway buttone...
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The narrow aisle between the seats in the aeroplane is crowded, making Kaoru feel even more anxious than he already is. They missed their connecting flight to Japan because their flight from Paris was delayed due to the weather and had to spend a gruelling six hours in an empty airport in the dead of the night, with nothing but hard plastic seats and a vending machine to their disposal. The airline already emailed him a formal apology and coupons to use on a future trip, but they hadn’t been able to do anything about their dismal situation. It should’ve been an easy lay-over, with minimal waiting time. Instead, Kaoru had a mini mental breakdown at five in the morning because the KitKat he wanted got stuck in the vending machine. He will deny the hot tears of frustration he spilled against Kojiro’s chest until the day he dies. And so will his gorilla boyfriend, if he wants to live to see another day.
Kaoru is more than ready for this part of the trip to be over, no matter how nice their two weeks in Paris were. So he hikes his shoulders up to his ears, stuffs his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and shuffles forward as fast as possible towards his designated seat. Kojiro’s hoodie is a bit big on him, so the hood hides most of his face. Which is a good thing, because everybody else on this 9 AM flight looks like they came straight off the runway, with a proper eight hours of sleep under their belt too. Meanwhile, Kaoru feels like he's been hit by a bus and subsequently rolled through a dumpster. He’s barely able to string more than two words together. He doesn’t know what he wants more: a shower or his bed. Yet for the next four hours all he has is a cramped aeroplane seat. His seat is the second one in the row, with Kojiro in the aisle seat next to him. Kaoru slumps down in the seat, leaving Kojiro to put away their carry-on bags in the overhead compartment.
His boyfriend does so with good cheer, even helping other people to put their bags away. How he can still be so cheerful after they pulled an all nighter in crappy plastic seats that couldn’t even fit Kojiro’s bulk properly, is beyond him. Kaoru glances up from under his hood and sees how Kojiro puts a small, sparkly pink roll case up in the overhead compartment, one that doesn’t belong to either of them. The female owner of the roll case stands next to Kojiro, ogling his muscles rolling underneath his thin I love Paris T-shirt as he stretches to put her luggage away. He should look ridiculous in the tourist shirt, but of course he doesn’t. When the green haired man looks at her, she bats her eyes at him in a way that is clearly meant to be seductive. Kojiro gives her a friendly nod and turns to go to his seat. He has to wait a bit though, because across from his seat there’s a man struggling to get his lumpy bag in its designated spot. Kaoru would’ve pushed past the man, but not Kojiro. The big oaf even offers to help, much to the enjoyment of the woman he helped before. She has the perfect view of Kojiro’s chest from her seat a row back. And she isn’t the only one watching him, Kaoru now sees. It seems like the eyes of every woman in their vicinity are locked on Kojiro in his slightly too tight T-shirt. It's actually Kaoru’s shirt: Kojiro bought it for him to sleep in at the beginning of their stay in Paris. But right before they were to board their flight back, Kojiro spilled his ice coffee over his shirt and the only change of clothes they had on hand was Kaoru's sleep shirt. And that was only in his carry-on bag because he almost forgot it in their hotel room; it had fallen underneath their bed and he saw it by chance the moment he was about to close the door of their room for the last time. The women know nothing of that, of course. They don’t know how Kojiro peeled him slowly out of that shirt on their last morning in Paris, to have lazy morning sex until they had to hurry in order not to miss the breakfast buffet.
The women are not just feasting their eyes on Kojiro, they talk about him too. The man himself is oblivious, he’s chatting with the man with the lumpy bag. But Kaoru hears it all.
“I wouldn’t mind getting up close and personal with him,” one woman titters to her friend. She isn’t even whispering, so Kaoru can hear it from several rows over. “I’d lick that,” her friend agrees readily. Another woman calls Kojiro their ‘in-flight entertainment’ and those are honestly the most respectable remarks; Kaoru hears some middle aged women say such lewd things that he doesn’t dare repeat them. Kojiro would probably just have a laugh if he heard, but still.
“Is he travelling alone?” a young woman wonders. She’s with another woman of the same age and they both lean out of their seats to get a good look at Kojiro. They’re both dressed to the nines and their make up is on point; they clearly don’t share Kaoru’s opinion that air travel needs to be done in comfortable clothing. Or maybe that’s just his anxiety, having him hide in the oversized hoodie that he stole from Kojiro long before they even started dating.
“I’m not sure,” her friend reacts, “I think he’s sitting with that girl there.” Now, this isn’t the first time that Kaoru gets mistaken for a woman, with his long pink hair and delicate features. It usually happens when he’s wearing one of his yukatas, though, not when he’s wearing leggings and a ratty, oversized hoodie.
“You think? If so, he’s way out of her league.” There are some condescending tutting sounds and Kaoru imagines they’re judging what little they can see of him. He fights the urge to hide further into his hood, to pull in the ponytail that’s sticking out over his shoulder. His hair is greasy and Kaoru feels even more filthy underneath the appraising looks of the girls. “If they’re dating it can’t last much longer. Look at what she’s wearing. She isn’t even trying anymore.”
Her friend’s comment gets lost in the white noise that starts ringing in Kaoru’s ears. He barely even notices how Kojiro wraps up his little chat with the man and angles himself into their row of seats. He makes some idle remark about plane seats always being too small for him, shuffling in his seat to get comfortable. “Kaoru? Hey, what’s wrong?” Kaoru can’t get words past the constriction in his throat, but a quick glance towards the women sitting in the other row is enough. For all Kaoru’s teasing and name calling, Kojiro is not actually a dimwitted primate. He’s intelligent, especially when it comes to understanding Kaoru and his many whims and shortcomings. He’s also vain enough to know he looks good and he’s adept in picking up social cues. So he only needs one good look around before he turns back to Kaoru and crowds in close. Kojiro’s large hand cups his face, pushing the hood back a little. “We’re almost home, sweetheart,” he croons, just loud enough for other people to overhear. “Just four more hours and then we’ll get a cab home, where I’ll run a bath for you. I’ll even light those scented candles you like so much.”
“You hate those candles,” Kaoru murmurs, his heart swelling at Kojiro’s mention of ‘home’. They don’t live together, but with Kaoru’s parents spending their retirement abroad, the Sakurayashiki family home is all his and it’s more comfortable than Kojiro’s tiny apartment. Kojiro spends most of his nights at the house.
“I do, they smell like someone stuffed an entire garden of flowers up my nose.” Kojiro says it with a smile, moving his thumb slowly across Kaoru’s cheek. “But you love them, so I’ll endure them. For you. Because I love you.”
Kaoru meets him halfway for the kiss, finding glee in how Kojiro cuts down all the leering women on the plane in a few sentences full of sweet words. Sweet words that are directed at Kaoru and Kaoru only. “I love you too,” he says, right before slipping him some tongue. The white noise in his ears has disappeared completely, meaning he can hear the outraged whispers of the women perfectly well.
