Work Text:
It’s comfortable. Familiar. Warm. Like breathing. The easiest thing in the world.
It's like a warm pair of woolen socks, or a sweater that you’ve worn so many times the print has faded and cracked, and there’s a small hole in the sleeve but really, it doesn't bother you, you’ll fix it later.
For the first few months, before you were together, it was infatuation. It was a thrill, a fire inside. It was a burning need to see them, when you were apart. Which could often be days, weeks, months at a time.
The fire remained, but it was also soft rain on the porch roof; comforting and relaxing. A pull into their orbit when they were in the room; butterflies and a flippy feeling in your stomach when they looked at you, when they smiled, because you had said something that they found funny.
The crinkles around their clear blue eyes telling you that you are wanted, you are accepted, you are safe.
You just wanted to look at them, all the time. You couldn’t hold back the affection in your voice, your eyes. You wanted to pour it out on them, so they knew they were everything to you.
It was needing to know everything about them, what they would tell you and what you could find on social media. It was asking questions, drinking up the answers. Everything is interesting, even their weird habits or hobbies.
Sure, I would love to hear your opinions on third season of Food Wars; please, tell me more about the different types of cacti you’re collecting. I love hearing about your family.
Then, it's the comfort of knowing you have someone and they have you. They will always pick up the phone, answer that text, regardless of the time of day or night.
You can turn up in a taxi at 2am, in the pouring rain, with a suitcase of wet clothes because your washing machine has broken and they know you can’t abide by leaving clothes wet and dirty. (And that just maybe, this is a cover for something else, but it's all going to be ok).
Yes, you can rewash them right now. No, my neighbors won’t mind.
You can pick up conversations from hours, or days earlier. They know exactly what you’re talking about; continue like there’s been no time at all.
You have in-jokes. Code words. An almost psychic connection that lets you bump their shoulder to say it's all good, you’re here, things will be ok. And they get it.
Sometimes you forget that you spent months just talking online, before you’d met. You can’t even imagine what it's like to not be near them in some way.
Now, it's sweaters and woolen socks, and lying in bed at night talking about your day. Searching with your foot for thiers, playing footsie under the covers, giggling instead of sleeping.
Gravitating towards each other in the kitchen despite all the space available whilst making coffee (knowing how to make it for each other just so). The kitchen you spent three years designing together so it would be big enough for two awkward giants to comfortably cohabitate.
You always end up sitting together at the breakfast bar, phones resting on the marble countertop, no space between you, reading the paper over the others’ shoulder.
Now you could never imagine life without them.
It would be dull, void of laughter and colour and joy. Even your darkest day is made bright with them. You know, without a doubt, that you do the same for them because you whisper it to each other in the darkness, clasping hands and kissing foreheads. Bringing snacks and water and giving foot rubs.
You argue, who doesn’t. It’s more than just the cupboards being left open (still, after all these years), or whether you’re emotionally ready to get a dog.
It’s about fixing the mortgage rate, changing to a bank that has divested from fossil fuels, whether it's safe to travel to visit their parents; it's that they should really get those headaches checked out by a specialist. Yes, again, and this time they need to self-advocate for that new treatment they’ve been researching, if they really want to try it out. It will be fine.
You’ll be there - of course you will.
There’s no doubt, only deep connection. You’re a team. It’s not you both against the world, it's that you’ve created your own world, to fit what you’ve become. Together.
You sort of miss the burning heat from the early days. But you wouldn’t trade it for the everlasting warmth you have now.