When he finally meets the famous Renga Nishizono at the interview, the man looks a little nervous. His hands are in his lap, fingers tugging on each other and he can’t quite make eye contact with Ten. Another man, his father, sits next to him and puts a hand on Renga’s shoulder and whispers something in his ear. Renga nods and faces Ten properly, back straighter, his hands still fidgeting in his lap, but their movements are more subtle. Good afternoon Murakumo-san, the older man says, we’re glad you could meet with us today. Renga nods slightly, still not speaking. It’s a pleasure to be here, Ten replies with the fakest real smile he can muster. You are doubtless aware of the situation my son has found himself in, the father continues, and we have met with several other candidates for the role already. Ten internally rolls his eyes at the fact that Renga can’t even speak for himself at this interview. Of course, I’m here to offer my services after all. Ten turns to smile at Renga and the other man turns away slightly, a light blush coloring his face. Pathetic. We appreciate that, and we just have a few questions for you. Ten leans forward slightly, hands folded on the table. First, what makes you the best candidate for the job? Well, I’m young, like Renga-san here is, and I have experience with, let’s say, physical altercations, of course I didn’t start them, but I can break up a fight, and all I really need is a roof over my head and food to eat. The father nods and turns to look at Renga. He whispers something in his ear again, Renga nodding along to whatever is being said. At last, Renga speaks. W-while we appreciate that you would be willing to work for free, we insist that you let us financially compensate you for your work whe-if you’re hired. Sounds like someone’s already made up his mind. Oh, of course, but I know hiring a bodyguard can get quite expensive…
Birthday gift! I decided to take the ideas from some of their art on twitter and threads and such and throw it into a little getting together ficlet. I hope you enjoy :)
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“Kamado-shonen! You’re just in time!”
Tanjiro had entered the room a little earlier than usual, and because of it, he caught Rengoku sitting at the edge of his bed, in the middle of putting on his pants. Tanjiro politely averted his gaze until Rengoku pulled them up over his hips and then sat back down on the bed with a huff.
“Rengoku-san, good morning,” Tanjiro greeted with a smile. “You’re looking great today!”
“You’ve gotten better at lying!” Rengoku teased, his ever-present smile bright on his face. He patted the space next to him, clearly implying for Tanjiro to seat himself there. Instead, Tanjiro grabbed the chair by the nightstand nearby and dragged it in front of Rengoku.
“I think this will be a little easier,” he explained, at Rengoku’s look. “Could you scoot a little closer to the edge?” He paused for a beat. “Unless you’ve already applied the cream?”
“No, I haven’t,” Rengoku confirmed. He dutifully scooted to the bed’s edge and placed his hands politely over his knees. “I have trouble keeping it out of my eyes, you see.”
Tanjiro wasn’t sure he did see, but he was never one to deny an opportunity to be close with Rengoku.
Tanjiro settled into the chair and scooted as close as space would allow, until their knees touched. Rengoku stiffened in preparation as Tanjiro applied the cream to his fingertips.
Even sitting there after weeks of recovery at the Butterfly Mansion, Tanjiro could see how his musculature hadn’t faded. He was still so much bigger than him; so much stronger. But Tanjiro was doing his best to catch up, in his own way.
And it was nice that despite how Rengoku was fully capable of doing this on his own now, he still asked Tanjiro for help with it.
Originally, this hadn’t been Tanjiro’s job. The women working at the mansion were perfectly capable of rubbing cream over Rengoku’s scarred eye, but one day no one had been available, and Tanjiro had offered his help, and then it became a part of their routine. He didn’t do it every day, because every day would have left him with no time to work, but whenever he was there, he found the time.
Sooner or later, Rengoku would return to his family home to recover, but for now he was there.
And so was Tanjiro, for however long he needed.
“You have such rough hands, but your touch is always very gentle!” Rengoku remarked, which Tanjiro would have found odd, but he was used to Rengoku’s strange comments from time to time.
He was used to a lot of things.
He tried not to notice when Rengoku’s good eye began searching his face, his expression going slightly pensive. His smile never wavered—it rarely did—but he always looked thoughtful when Tanjiro was close to him like this. It was one of the reasons Tanjiro always tried to make these sorts of situations happen.
One of the many reasons.
“I still fail to see why this is necessary,” Rengoku said. “I certainly don’t mind how it looks!”
“Because it’s not about looks, Rengoku-san,” Tanjiro replied easily. He steadied Rengoku’s face with his left hand, and with the right he began rubbing the cream gently over the map of scars spread out across his eye, extending up to his forehead. “It’s about making your life easier in the future. If we treat the scars with care now, they’ll be easier to deal with later. We don’t want opening and closing your eye to be painful.”
“That sounds like a lie!”
“It’s not a lie,” Tanjiro said, smiling. “Your skin should be soft and flexible. I think.” The medical jargon sometimes slid right over his head, but he understood the basic concept. “Do you feel any pain?”
“No more than usual,” Rengoku replied. As Tanjiro moved his hand down the side of his face, rubbing cream over his eyelids very carefully, Rengoku’s eyelashes occasionally fluttered against his fingertips. His eye remained unseeing, but it functioned on a basic level, which was more than Tanjiro would have expected.
Time passed while he worked. Neither of them spoke, lingering comfortably in the silence.
“Your eye is still so beautiful,” Tanjiro said, without thinking. If Rengoku had any specific thoughts related to his statement, he didn’t voice them. So, Tanjiro continued, now moisturizing the space under his eye and over his cheek. “I never thought I would meet someone else who had eyes like mine. We both have some red in our hair, too. We match!”
Tanjiro leaned back and smiled widely at Rengoku. For his part, Rengoku sat staring at him, looking a little dazed. With the morning sun filtering through the window and hitting his back, he must have felt pretty relaxed.
Tanjiro only realized he still had his left hand cupping Rengoku’s cheek when Rengoku closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. Then Rengoku’s eyes slid open again, like he realized what he had done, and an emotion Tanjiro never dared to name swam in their depths.
“Tanjiro…” he began, forcing Tanjiro’s heartbeat to speed up by several notches, “become my tsuguko.”
In an instant, Tanjiro’s rapid heartbeat began to calm. He felt his smile dim slightly.
“Rengoku-san, you know, you can be so cruel. And sometimes I wonder…”
“What?” Rengoku asked, sounding startled at Tanjiro’s accusation. And that was the worst part of it all: Rengoku probably didn’t think anything of it. His cruelty lied in his giving nature. He gave and gave, but sometimes, Tanjiro just wanted him to take.
Tanjiro smoothed his thumb over Rengoku’s cheekbone. He watched color begin to fill his cheeks, and following the opening thread, Tanjiro leaned in.
Faster than lightning, Rengoku jerked his head back, eyes wide.
“Tanjiro,” he said. It sounded like a warning. Or maybe it was a plea.
Tanjiro leaned forward again, crowding him back against the bed sheets. They gazed at each other, Tanjiro waiting—hoping that Rengoku would finally take a hint. He could feel it in the weight of his gaze, reflected back at him; he could taste the scent of Rengoku’s feelings in the back of his throat. He watched Rengoku’s fist clench and unclench over the bed sheets.
“Rengoku-san, I want you to understand one thing.” He waited for Rengoku to meet his eye. Being significantly taller than Tanjiro, he didn’t have to raise his head. “For the last time, I don’t want to be your tsuguko. That’s not what I want.”
He watched understanding dawn on Rengoku’s face.
“Oh,” he said.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Tanjiro replied.
This time, Tanjiro pulled Rengoku towards him by his arm as he leaned in, but his touch was still gentle, giving him the option to pull away.
And then when their lips finally met in a quick, chaste kiss, it was Tanjiro who pulled back immediately after. He’d bumped noses with him hard enough that he felt embarrassed by it, his face starting to flush red. Rengoku’s cheeks were flushed an even deeper red.
“Sorry!” he stammered, moving his eyes down to Rengoku’s clavicle. “That was—was that okay?”
“It’s fine!” Rengoku yelled. Tanjiro leaned in again, excited for more, and Rengoku’s words trailed off, going quiet. “It’s… I…”
Tanjiro kissed him a second time, but the position was still awkward, and because Tanjiro refused to let this end lest Rengoku call the whole thing off, he ended up sliding into his lap to make it easier on himself. It put Tanjiro much closer to Rengoku than he had initially intended, and Rengoku, ever the gentlemen, wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him there and keep him from falling.
They were so close now that Tanjiro could feel each one of Rengoku’s breaths push out his chest. Even when he pulled away, there was nowhere to go; Tanjiro couldn’t tell if that was better or worse. It didn’t help that Rengoku stared at him with the kind of intensity of someone who didn’t know where else to look.
Tanjiro shifted forward, Rengoku’s hands pressing warm against his back. His fingers twitched along shirt, like he was resisting the urge to explore. Tanjiro had no such reservations; the position gave him the freedom to slide both hands up Rengoku’s front and cup his face as he went in for the third kiss, and then a fourth.
Both their lips were a little dry. Rengoku’s breath mingled with his, short and uneven. Tanjiro brushed their lips together again and again, not sure what he was doing, but enjoying it. When he’d had his fill of that, and Rengoku’s hands began to tighten around his shirt, he moved on to kiss the space beside his nose; then his cheek, and then over his scarred eye, which smelled like the cream Tanjiro had spread over it.
“I love the way you smell,” Tanjiro breathed, and swallowed Rengoku’s reply with his lips before it could leave his mouth. They kissed each other for a few more minutes, growing more confident as time wore on.
Eventually, when their lips started to catch and drag, Tanjiro went to wet his lips with his tongue, and Rengoku did the same, but they hadn’t pulled far enough away, and the touch was like a spark; that time it was Rengoku who pulled him in close. The hand wound around his waist went tight, and he buried his hand in Tanjiro’s hair, opening his mouth with his tongue.
He was less gentle that time, less hesitant, and Tanjiro loved it. He slid one hand up and down his chest, groaning in the back of his throat, low and encouraging.
“Tanjiro,” Rengoku murmured, pulling back. Their noses brushed. Rengoku let out an embarrassed chuckle.
“Rengoku-san,” Tanjiro echoed, and he made as if to push him back when all of a sudden Rengoku let out a grunt of pain. And Tanjiro was reminded that he was still recovering and should not have another person resting on top of him for any amount of time at all.
“I’m sorry!” he cried, scrambling to get off his lap. “I should have been more considerate! I’m sorry, Rengoku-san. Are you okay? Is it painful?”
“Only a hair!” Rengoku said, smiling. His smile widened when Tanjiro moved to holding his hand, stroking it comfortingly. “It was worth it! My lips are tingling!”
Tanjiro couldn’t help the embarrassed, giddy smile that spread on his face. He covered his mouth with his hand and glanced down at Rengoku’s fingers, which were slowly curling around his.
“I’m sorry,” he said, muffled by his palm. “Is it okay that I’m extremely happy right now?”
“I think so! I hadn’t expected…” Rengoku turned his head away, for once not looking directly at Tanjiro. The flush had extended from his cheeks to his ear. Tanjiro unexpectedly felt like leaning in and biting it and swallowed around the impulse. “You should be my tsuguko.”
“I’m not going to be your tsuguko,” Tanjiro said. He lifted Rengoku’s hand and kissed the knuckle on his index finger. “I want to be more than that.”
As Rengoku slowly wrapped his hand around Tanjiro’s, he said, “you already are.”
