warnings!!! fluff (maybe a bit of angst???), the character is aged 18+, and there are grammatical errors ahead. Please read with a grain of salt.
Pairings: timeskip!sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader
Dating Sakusa means having to deal with his mysophobia while he also tries to get used to being touchy around you. It was a petty argument when it came to him.
"What are you doing?" he asked. He had just arrived home from overtime at practice with the MSBY and had to deal with Bokuto's emo mood throughout the training. He just wanted to eat dinner and sleep with you in his arms.
But things escalated when he saw you facing the door to the entrance of the bathroom, crouching down in front of the cabinet under the sink as you were shuffling some items.
You stopped what you were doing and turned around. He looked at you, noticing that you were wearing a mask and a yellow cleaning latex glove, waiting for you to speak up.
"Omi, you're home," you acknowledged before standing up, lowering your mask with the finger pads of your glove which made him scrunch his nose. "I was arranging your—"
"Arranging?" he cut you off, brows furrowed a little. "Did I ask for it?" Exhaustion and hunger were taking a toll on him, and he couldn't take it that you were touching his stuff when he didn't even ask you to do it.
A little taken aback, your parted lips formed a thin line before you shook your head. Awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet, you looked down at the floor.
You heard him sigh and looked up again to see him running his fingers through his hair before stepping closer to you and crouching down at the cupboards. He scanned the detergent pods, spray bottles, and other cleaning materials before his brows furrowed even deeper.
"I already arranged them according to which product I use most often to least. Detergent pods are different from powders, even if they have the same scent, you can't put them together."
Your lips formed an 'O' shape before looking at him rearrange the items in the cabinet.
"Damn, you even messed up which spray bottle is for floors and tables," he muttered, which didn't escape your ears.
Just how are they different? They're both spray bottles.
Suddenly, he turned around, which took you by surprise. He was glaring at you, and as if he had read your mind, he spoke, "Even if they are both spray bottles, you still have to separate them."
He stood up after closing the cabinet and placed his hands in his pockets as he looked down at you with the same expression. "There are different types of chemicals mixed in their solutions," he said firmly, making you shrink back at his tone.
"What do you think would happen if I used the one with a strong chemical solution in cleaning our dining table, and you, being the airhead you are, put your hands on the countertop and wherever else, and directed it to your skin, hmm? Heck—if even our future child could inherit your clumsiness and touch their face with their hands that touched who knows where I sprayed that kind of solution and get sick, huh?"
You weren't able to comprehend the second sentence as the thought of the possibility of getting to that point already made you swallow a lump in your throat and hang your head low, fidgeting with your fingers while still wearing the yellow latex glove.
Sakusa stood there with his brows raised for a moment, not knowing that you were thinking he was mad at you. But in reality, he was just scolding and lecturing you about the consequences of messing up the arrangement of his cleaning supplies. Although he knew you meant no harm, he just didn't know how to rephrase it.
Waiting for your reply, Sakusa grew anxious. Was he blabbering too much? Was he saying too much? Was he rude? He just wanted to let you know. Yet, he could've said it another way and not rub it in your face.
After a while, you spoke, still not meeting his eye. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…" Noticing the shift in your tone, Sakusa anxiously shifted on his feet and was about to say that it wasn't your fault for being ignorant, but the way your body turned around shook him a little.
"I'll try not to touch—arrange them for you," you said, your voice above a whisper, making his throat run dry. "Dinner's at the table, I've already eaten."
As you headed out of the bathroom, he felt the colors drain. Debating whether to walk after you or head to eat, before he knew it, he was already standing at the doorframe of your shared bedroom, unmasked, staring at your back as you lay sideways on the bed.
It shattered him; it was never his intention to indirectly tell you about being so ignorant of all things—his cleaning supplies.
As you lay there, words ran through your mind. Chemicals… they have different kinds? you thought, biting your lower lip as you stared at the dark sky through the windows.
Footsteps on the floorboard could be heard as they approached the bed. Feeling the bed sink at the additional weight, you heard him from behind.
"Love," he started. His voice contrasted with the one he used to scold and lecture you with.
But you were stubborn to hear another from him and cut him off before he could continue, "I've eaten."
"I'm not hungry anymore," surprisingly, he was, after knowing he made you feel a little less after lecturing you like that. Suddenly, you felt a hand slide from behind you to your waist and rest there.
You felt him scoot closer to you until you felt his breath on your nape.
"I'm not mad," he said, closing his eyes as the words that came out of his mouth were reassuring and genuine. "But I'm mad thinking you think I'm mad," he added, his wrap tightening around you, making you tense up but later on relax.
Suddenly, you found yourself unable to answer, and he took it as a sign to continue, "I'm not mad," he repeated. "I was just… a little conscious of the idea of having you touch those without knowing they have different properties."
"But I'm not saying being ignorant on your part is at fault either; you simply didn't know," he quickly added, not wanting you to think of something negative.
"I really… have a way with words, that most people misunderstand," he continued. "But love, please know, I'll never be mad at you for not knowing something that is beyond your field of expertise," he said softly, finally opening his eyes.
Feeling your heart flip a little at his confession, you turned around, completely facing him as you spoke quietly, "You're not…?"
Sakusa's expression softened, glad that you were now facing him. "I'm not," he said, reaching for your chin and lifting it up for you to look in his eyes. "And I don't want you to go to bed, mad at me, or thinking that I am, to you."
Your heart was beating abnormally fast. True, he has a way with words, but his confession had just made you forget about your little exchange in the bathroom.
As you were about to reply, a stomach growl interrupted you. Sakusa, whose face was now uncharacteristically red, buried his face in the crook of your neck.
You chuckled softly, wrapping your arms around his torso. "You should really eat," you said softly, only to hear a muffled groan from your neck followed by incoherent words that you couldn't make out. "Hmm?"
"Eat with me," he said, leaning back from your neck, his face no longer red. "No, at least, watch me eat," he rephrased, making your lips curl up in a smile, earning a nod from you.
