Making up with Nanami (1,709 words) by kunasmoochies 💋
a/n: reader is drunk, the aftermath of a big fight, this is my first try at a comfort/care fanfic, soft!nanami.
You come in stumbling through the door. Kento hears you kick your heels off, not bothering to flick the lights on. He waits to see if you'll come down the hall towards your shared bedroom.
Kento pretends that he's already asleep; tucked in bed with his eyes closed. But you both know better than that. He would never even think of laying his head against his pillow without you being home. He has waited up hours for you before— just because you two aren't on speaking terms right now, does that mean he foregoes his inability to sleep without knowing about your safety?
He raises himself on the bed in the dark of the night. He can't help it that he counts your soft footsteps, the heels in your hand banging against the wall as you walk. He clicks the side lamp on, waiting, hoping for you to open the bedroom door.
You don't. You go straight to the guest room. He hears the door creak open. He feels his heartstrings tighten.
Kento prays that you missed him as much as he misses you. It's been two weeks since you two have really spoken. Since he's heard your voice in a conversation, since he's heard you say his name or laugh at a joke he's made.
The only contact he really has with you is through text message now.
You had called him at work a few days after the fight, but he didn't have his phone on his person to answer.
Kento thinks about that call- wishes he could have picked up; wishes his phone wasn't on his desk charging and instead in his pocket. He would have answered on the first ring. Kento always answers when it's you.
Now he's resolved to seeing you in passing- like earlier tonight. You walked out the door, didn't even speak to him. He didn't ask where you were off too either, to be fair. But Kento figured he had no right to question your whereabouts. Not when he spends hours upon hours at work while you wait for him at home, your work day long over.
But little did he know, it crushes you every time you leave the house without Kento acknowledging you.
He hasn't spoken to you in a while; hasn't considered you in the way he normally does. Never made any comments about your heavy makeup or the dresses you'd wear that kept getting shorter each time. Hasn't said anything about the heels that make you almost his height, or the tiny purse nestled under your arm that he'd usually love to make a joke about. Makes no comment about not taking a jacket with you, or if you'd want him to pick you up, or ask if any of your friends would need a ride.
Kento, against his better judgement, has been letting you walk out the door.
Earlier tonight, he heard you pause before you left, but he didn't turn to look at you. He just stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to heat up. He heard the front door click and he sighed.
So, as you creep into the guest bedroom, Kento lays back against his pillow and takes a deep breath. It's fine. He hasn't spoken to his wife in two weeks. It's fine. He thinks he's going crazy; waiting for you to come storming in the house so you can yell at him, push him around, or grab him. Just do something to show him it's eating away at you the way it is at him.
But he resolves himself to the silence, the quiet and unease of you ignoring him. It's (not) fine.
And when you're long asleep, Kento will sneak into the guest room and pull the covers over you, take your big earrings out that will no doubt tug on your earlobes during your sleep. He'll move your hair out your face, unzip your dress so you're more comfortable when you toss and turn. He'll even sneak a glass of water in the room for you- leave it on the nightstand like he always does. It's still an unspoken ritual between you too. Kento does all this for you- expecting no acknowledgement, no 'thank you' to leave your lips. The morning light will seep through the curtains, inevitably waking you up, forcing you to sit up in bed. You’ll be too hungover and too shame faced to truly talk to him. And this routine will continue again and again and again.
But as you look at the guest bed, in your drunken haze you realize that you don't want that. The thought of it makes you want to cry. You want him to be asleep right beside you. You want to be in your bed with your hand on his chest, snuggled together. You want to ask him for a sip of his water before you lay down. You want to feel his warmth and be able to run your hands on his face and feel his fingertips ghost across your back and give him a goodnight kiss. You want to tell him about your night out, and how upset you are to still be in this stupid fight two weeks later.
You decide to get up. You leave your purse on the bed, picking your heels up. You make the short trek to the bedroom door.
Kento's eyes are closed, and he's focusing on his deep breathing when he feels it. The bedroom door swings opens quicker than you mean it to. He turns the lamp on. You're standing in the doorway, watching him watch you from the bed.
Kento takes you in, in your drunken stupor. He studies you. Really studies you. Sees the hurt in your eyes, swears he can feel the tightness in your chest. It's the same for him. He sees how rigid you stand, unable to express what you want to say. You both stare at each other, and as he gets up to come closer the waterworks start.
He's in front of you within seconds. He takes the heels out your hands as your fingers come up to rub your face. You can't care enough to realize you're smudging your makeup even worse, and your mascara is running and you're breathing harder because you’re drunk and emotional and want your husband.
Kento loves it. After two weeks of not being able to indulge himself with your presence, he cant help but smile. He loves to be able to see you. The drunk and emotional you, the sensible and bright-eyed you. The angry you, the sad you, the in-love you. He just loves you.
He raises his hands, lowers yours from your face so he can wipe your tears away. Your hands go straight to the sides of his shirt, gripping it so tight that he shuffles just a tad closer. You engulf him in a hug, tight and secure. He lets out an exhale of relief. You try to speak, but you're in a tizzy. He cradles your head with one hand, rubbing your back with the other. "Oh, my beautiful baby." he says softly. "Why are you crying my love?"
Your heart beats harder in your chest. “I..” You trail off, breathing hard. You swallow before continuing. “I don't want to fight anymore." you whisper. He kisses your forehead, his hand still rubbing circles on your back.
"I don't want to either." Kento says earnestly.
"I'm sorry. I hate when you're mad at me." You say, still holding Kento tightly.
"I could never be mad at you. Never." He says, kissing your forehead again. He takes a moment to breathe you in. He can't believe he's gone two weeks without you in his arms.
"Can I come back to the bedroom? I miss sleeping beside you." You ask.
"Of course. I've been waiting for you." Kento says softly, leaning back to see your face in his hands. He rubs his thumbs across your cheeks. You can't help but close your eyes- feeling the relief of the moment. He hugs you again, leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth.
He turns around, taking your hand in his as he leads you to your side of the bed. He helps you out your dress, unclasping your bra. He's busy murmuring sweet nothings loud enough for you to hear. How he loves you, how he's sorry, how he's been suffering without you, how he hates when you're not speaking to him.
You smile, but can't help feeling guilty. Like you've been neglecting him for two weeks.
“I don't care about that. I just wanted you back in my arms." He says as you lay back in the bed. You hadn't realized you were speaking out loud. Kento leaves to the bathroom to get a makeup wipe. You shimmy under the covers, rubbing your feet together as you wait for him. The comforter smells faintly like him- woodsy and warm and masculine. Kento comes back and sits beside you on the bed, holding your face as he wipes away as much as he can. You lean in to give him a kiss, and of course he can't deny you of that.
Three quick pecks is all he gives you before he starts smiling. You smile back, your face still in his grip. You two stare at each other for a loaded minute. Something in the air changes, it’s all sweet and bubbly like champagne. Kento kisses you again.
Throwing the makeup wipe in the waste bin, Kento walks to his side of the bed and turns the lamp off. He gets under the cover with you, settling into the pillows. He senses that you’re still a tad reluctant, so he grabs you and pulls you onto his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your arm in a soothing motion.
As soon as you drift off, Kento gets up. He quickly checks to make sure the door is locked, then he makes sure to bring a new cup of water back to the bedroom for you, leaving an advil beside it. He slides back in bed, looking at you again. He's relieved to have you beside him again, where you belong.
I wrote this forever ago!! I hope you enjoy :3
likes/reblogs/comments wanted and appreciated! Thank you for reading xoxo
also don't repost my fics anywhere, don't feed my words to AI, thankyaaa!
