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When Ichigo unlocks the door, Shinji’s already there, standing in the middle of the living room, bouquet of roses in his hands as soft classical music plays. Ichigo blinks, smiles as he takes off his shoes.
He shakes his head, “you know I already said yes, right?”
“I know,” Shinji says, lets Ichigo be the one to come to him, offers him the bouquet. “For you.”
“Thank you,” Ichigo replies and despite the fact that Shinji does this a lot – there’s never a lack of fresh flowers around their house – when Ichigo leans down to smell the roses, it’s still partly to hide his blush.
“Are you ever going to stop?” Ichigo had asked around their fourth month of dating, twelfth bouquet of flowers – sunflowers, this time – in hands. “Nope,” had been the simple answer and while at the time, Ichigo hadn’t quiet believed him, four years later, that’s changed.
Ichigo goes to the kitchen to put the flowers in water – of course, there’s already a vase awaiting him on top of the counter. The smile on his face really doesn’t want to leave; Shinji’s so corny and sappy and Ichigo is so ridiculously in love with him.
When he goes back to the living room, Shinji is still standing. He offers a hand and Ichigo easily takes it. He’s pulled close immediately.
“Hello,” Shinji says and it seems like such a long time ago when they had barely any height between them. Now Ichigo has almost two inches on him.
“Hi,” Ichigo replies, is helpless to do anything else. His hands automatically go to Shinji’s waist, while Shinji’s go around his neck, one hand going to Ichigo’s hair, to release it from the ponytail. Shinji’s in a braid; Ichigo will do the same later to him, redo the braid in the morning.
Adzuki comes meowing at their feet and Ichigo smiles down at him.
“You miss me too?”
He gets Adzuki rubbing himself against their legs, forcing the two of them to stop moving so they don’t accidentally step of him. And it’s not exactly like he’s a small cat; that didn’t last for longer than the first four months, not when Shinji is ridiculously weak to his eyes. Ichigo has to be the one to watch out for diabetes.
“I missed you more,” Shinji says, gets Ichigo’s attention back on him.
“Are you trying to compete with the cat?”
“Are you saying there’s a competition?” Shinji pouts and Ichigo is helpless to do anything but lean down and kiss him, Shinji not letting him go when he tries to lean back. Not that Ichigo tries very hard.
“Any special occasion?” Ichigo asks, exactly as he’s asked since the fourth time Shinji gave him flowers. The first time was their first date, so Ichigo had just thanked him in the midst of stammering and blushing. Then he second bouquet had been given, and the third, and by the fourth, he was honestly amused. Still couldn’t help but to feel… not embarrassed, there was nothing embarrassing about it, self-conscious, maybe.
Shinji’s answer hasn’t changed in all this time, though: “I felt like it. And you deserve them.”
“You’re in charge of choosing the flowers for the wedding,” Ichigo says.
“I don’t mind choosing the cake either.”
Ichigo laughs, wouldn’t mind it for the simple fact that he truly can’t decide whether Shinji would go for something boring simply to show he could, or the gaudiest, most romantic, heart shaped cake that has ever been seen. But the last thing he wants is Shinji to think that he’s not as committed as he is.
“I’m looking forward for cake tasting,” is what he says.
“And the honeymoon, have you decided where you want to go?”
“Somewhere warm,” Ichigo immediately says, smiles and lets a hand drop of Shinji’s ass, to playfully squeeze it. “Where we don’t have to wear clothes unless we want to.”
“Remind me why we’re not eloping?”
“Because my sisters would hunt me down and my dad would cry literally every time he saw me after.”
“Ah, of course.”
Shinji has a smile playing around his lips, but Ichigo still feels compelled to ask: “unless you want to?”
“And lose my opportunity to finally see you in formal wear? I don’t think so.”
“We could have a beach wedding.”
“We don’t live near a beach.”
“Semantics.”
“You’d know all about it, professor,” Shinji, of course, leers in the exact same way he does whenever he uses the title. Ichigo rolls his eyes, but he still pulls Shinji closer to him, their chests pressing together.
“Maybe we can get married at sunset.”
“You really want a fairytale wedding?”
“I mean, you’re going to be there, so it’ll feel like a fairytale anyway,” Ichigo says, and while Shinji does groan, he isn’t quick enough to let his forehead drop against Ichigo’s chest before the blush is caught.
“Stop it, you sap fuck.”
Ichigo starts laughing, while Shinji stays exactly where he is.
The music is still playing and Ichigo turns his head to see Adzuki laying on the sofa, turned to them, but with eyes closed.
“I can’t believe you’re calling me sappy. You give me flowers every single week.”
“I’d give you everything else if you accepted it,” Shinji says and Ichigo knows he’s being honest, that if he so chose, he could home everyday to something new; chocolate, diamonds, whatever.
But the reply to that is quite easy and getting Shinji’s eyes on him by grabbing onto his chin, Ichigo says, “all I want is you.”
Shinji sighs, “you’re going to make me cry at the wedding, aren’t you?”
Ichigo laughs, “like you won’t?”
Shinji gives this little shrug, very what can you do about it and Ichigo already knows he’ll be crying, Shinji will be crying, his dad will definitely be crying, Yuzu probably as well, Karin will hide it if she does feel like it. Maybe Urahara as well? It’s going to be a crying fest, for sure. Ichigo is looking forward to it.