Happy For House Help | A Genmui Fanfic

Does It Hurt?

The atmosphere completely changed as Kafo took notice of Genya entering the abode. He immediately went silent, careful to conceal the degrading words he was spewing prior to the taller man's visitation.

He could almost sense the worry emanating from Genya's gaze as it locked onto him. Genya's eyes then shifted to Muichiro, standing beside him. Once more, they returned to Kafo, and his lips slightly parted, ready to voice his thoughts.

Genya, himself, couldn't tell if words came out of where they were supposed to, but they were certainly silent if it happened. Ignoring the chilling atmosphere presented throughout, he leisurely took a seat on the living room couch as he did every other day.

"Good... morning, Genya," Kafo greeted, stuffing his hands into his pockets with the cock of his eyebrows.

He clicked his teeth in contemplation, scrutinizing every nuance of Genya's expressions. Each subtle emotion revealed valuable clues about the current state of affairs for Kafo. He couldn't help but reflect on the heated marital dispute he had engaged in earlier, fervently hoping that none of it had been discernible to Genya's keen senses. However, given the awkward tension surrounding them, he already began to have doubts regardless.

In response to the greeting, Genya displayed a soft grin with a gentle nod. At this point, he was sure he'd already caught onto something, but was unsure if it was safe enough to come to a conclusion. In fear of taking any risks he might regret in the future, he kept his demeanor affable and unsuspecting.

The previous commotion ceased to trouble him, at least until it escalated to a point that warranted his concern. It could very well have been a fleeting domestic dispute, one he hoped would not resurface for months to come. In fact, he desperately wished that was the case. He didn't want to be involved in something a lot bigger than the likes of that.

Kafo's derogatory words traveled throughout his mind as he eagerly attempted to register them all. In a way, it was as if he was discussing the situation to himself. He was simply trying to get a clear understanding of everything that was happening.

His contemplations came to an abrupt halt when Kafo casually exited the living room, leaving him alone with Muichiro. Despite the awkwardness of the situation and his hesitation to bring up the conflict, he found himself compelled to voice his inquiries. In no time, his lingering questions found their way out of his mouth.

After all, he'd gotten rather used to Muichiro at this point. They had become very close, in fact. Sometimes they'd even grow physically close which increased the guilt Genya would have been experiencing throughout those times.

From the third day onward, Genya found himself consumed by thoughts of Muichiro, a source of great frustration. What made it even more vexing was the fact that Muichiro's spouse had been the one to hire him for the house-sitting task. Although Genya's feelings never ventured as far as one might anticipate, they were promptly quashed before they could develop further.

"You know you can talk to me," Genya finally mustered up the courage to say, getting up from the couch to approach the smaller one.

Muichiro pursed his lips, discreetly edging backward to create some breathing room. These were trying times, and he desperately needed his husband to cease his suspicions, even if it meant putting more physical distance between himself and Genya. In fact, that was the root of the argument that would've occurred the same morning. The root of the bruise below his eye. One bruise out of two.

That was the second time.

Slut.

"I actually can't," Muichiro whispered, lowering his head to avoid facing Genya.

"What do you mean?"

Genya was unsure of why he suddenly took it upon himself to do this, but his hands definitely had a mind of their own. The two had experienced a growing bond over the days which had woven them even closer, and they had seamlessly adapted to each other's company. Considering that Genya spent a significant portion of his day within these walls, the emotional connection they shared had naturally translated into a physical one as well.

He gently lifted Muichiro's chin with his hand, cradling it tenderly in his palms. In one decisive motion, he captured Muichiro's full and undivided attention, tilting the younger man's head to meet his gaze, focusing intently on the faint discoloration beneath his eye.

"What the hell is this..."

Genya leaned in for a closer look, unaware of what he was actually doing and how he looked while doing it. It didn't even concern him just how close the two were for the time being. All that mattered was Muichiro's safety at the time, and he guaranteed he would get to the bottom of it.

"Here,"

He brought his thumb to the bruise, gently massaging it while Muichiro focused intently on his pupils. Muichiro's lips parted in response to the unexpected physical contact, more in reaction to the touch than the pain of the pressure.

"Does it hurt?" Genya asked, increasing the press of the caress.

"A little bit,"

Muichiro maintained a subdued tone, his anxiety stemming from the fear that his husband might be close by, watching his every move. He was determined not to make it obvious, which was why he refrained from alerting Genya. In that moment, their breaths intertwined, the room steeped in silence, save for the faint sounds of Kafo dressing himself in the master bedroom, providing an audible backdrop to the tension in the air.

Those were the few sounds that managed to jolt Muichiro back to reality. He had finally realized how bad this looked, and planned to stop it before anything were to escalate. Or worse, his husband had appeared and thought wrongly of the situation.

"It's fine," Muichiro lied, desperately swatting Genya's hand away. "Just leave it alone,"

Muichiro attempted to take his leave, only to be abruptly halted mid-stride. Genya's grip on his wrist was resolute, a clear signal that he expected answers. Just when he thought his questions were finally getting answered, Muichiro thought to dismiss him? He was not about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers so easily.

"Hey, Muichiro, is there something you want to tell me?" He asked, increasing the grip on the smaller one's wrist to ensure he stayed put.

"No, I'm fine," He fibbed. "So, you can let go now,"

Genya released the grip on his wrist, maintaining unwavering eye contact with the person beneath him. Any lapse in his expression could swiftly undermine everything else he held within. He made a silent vow to keep his demeanor tight, even if it was the sole remaining facade of his seriousness.

"Muichiro, has he been-"

"I'm fine," Muichiro managed to utter, his voice trembling.

He pressed his lips together tightly, and Genya couldn't help but notice the unmissable moisture welling up in his eyes.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," he confessed, a hint of remorse in his voice. "I'm sorry."

That was the last thing he managed to say before concluding his stay. Genya watched as he hastily rushed to the master bedroom to meet with his husband who waited patiently for his long anticipated presence.

This encounter didn't make sense to Genya at all. They practically crossed paths every hour of the day, so how could they not engage with each other? He understood that he might have unintentionally become too close to Muichiro for Kafo's comfort, which was entirely understandable. Even though it wasn't his intention, it seemed reasonable for a husband to develop a touch of protectiveness.

However, it would make all the more sense to get fired. The perplexing disparity between Kafo allowing him to remain while insisting Muichiro keep his distance eluded him. Genya sensed a deeper layer to this choice, and this realization struck him almost immediately. He felt as though he could peer into Kafo's thoughts, understanding the trajectory of this situation and the purpose behind Kafo's actions with absolute clarity.

Kafo didn't plan to let this play out well for anyone. Not even for himself.

Word Count: 1371