Smothered;

[kalisona]

When Mitsunari got home, everything was slightly off.

He paused, hanging up his coat, and tilted his head.

…No Ieyasu? How strange.

It brought a bit of a confused frown out of him, but otherwise, he dismissed it. He found Ieyasu a few moments later, and the cheerful grin and “welcome home, Mitsunari!” were a bit (not comforting, he wasn’t discomforted) more normal.

So he nodded and settled down at home to get some work done in the peace and quiet of the evenings he had grown used to.

For a few hours, it was calm. For precisely two hours and forty-three minutes, Mitsunari worked simply, unbothered.

It was a few minutes later that his consciousness started prodding him that something was not quite right.

He’d exchanged a few words with Ieyasu and their silence wasn’t awkward—it hadn’t been for years.

But he only just now realized that there was an unexpected distance. He sat at the table with his laptop but Ieyasu did not sit near him or behind him—he sat on the other end of the couch. There were no arms encircling his waist, no insistent snuggling, no murmurs of “maybe we can go to bed now?”.

Ieyasu was there—but that distance, now that he had noticed it, was impossible for Mitsunari to shake off.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

His typing slowed and his bow furrowed and finally, Mitsunari looked up, stilling his work.

“Ieyasu, are you sick?” he asked bluntly, frowning.

Ieyasu blinked. “Of course not. I’m fine.”

There was another pause, this one actually edging towards awkward silence.

And Mitsunari closed the computer, turning and scowling at Ieyasu.

“If you are ill, you should go to bed,” he snapped, standing. Ieyasu blinked, bewildered.

“But I’m not—“

But he didn’t get the chance to finish; Mitsunari had stood already, arms crossed and scowling down at him.

“I will not deal with you growing sicker simply because you will not rest. We will go to bed early tonight. Come.”

Not only did Mitsunari’s tone brook no argument…why would Ieyasu argue against going to bed early? Hanbei might have suggested this as a “do not smother him or he will grow resentful”, but Ieyasu was not seeing it at all…

Though regardless, he was determined to stick to his resolution. Hanbei knew best, certainly?

Mitsunari, on the other hand, knew nothing of this. All he knew was that Ieyasu was acting very out of the norm—and he hadn’t married him to change him, that much was for sure.

So if he was acting differently, he must have been feeling unwell. That seemed fair. (Ignoring all evidence that suggested that Ieyasu would be clingier when upset or unwell). And so Mitsunari would do the equally logical thing and send Ieyasu to bed. And knowing Ieyasu, he would not rest unless Mitsunari was there.

So in the best interests of the both of them, they would go to bed early.

It seemed logical…but it was uncomfortable, Mitsunari realized, to lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and find that Ieyasu was also looking at the ceiling and not reaching for him and something was very very off indeed.

And so, heedless of personal space or awkwardness, Mitsunari invasively scooted over and planted his hand on Ieyasu’s forehead.

…No fever…

Ieyasu blinked, and again, startled, glancing over at Mitsunari and blinking again at how close they were now. Mitsunari didn’t seem to notice, musing as he was. He certainly wasn’t making it very easy on Ieyasu to stick to his resolution…

But stick to it he did, laying stiffly in bed until Mitsunari had frowned and muttered some form of a good night and turned away to presumably sleep.

And eventually, despite how uncomfortably awkward it was to not sleep with Mitsunari in his arms like normal, Ieyasu managed to fall asleep as well—this was for their relationship’s sake, after all, so it would be worth it. Just this once.

It was Ieyasu who woke first the next morning, which was surprising to him considering how poorly he slept. But the first thing he noticed was that they were no longer in the same position they had been in the night before.

It appeared sometime in the night, Ieyasu had turned towards Mitsunari—that was normal. But it seemed…Mitsunari had turned to face Ieyasu as well, curling up closer, forehead nearly pressed to Ieyasu’s with how close they were.

He couldn’t say if it had been accidental or conscious…but it made him smile regardless. Perhaps Mitsunari didn’t feel smothered by his affection at all. And so while he didn’t want to wake him up, Ieyasu couldn’t help but reach out, brushing messy white hair out of Mitsunari’s face so he could see him better—and then leaning forward and ever so gently pressing his lips to Mitsunari’s.

Mitsunari didn’t wake up, but he did sigh quietly, and that was all Ieyasu needed to loosely claps his arms around Mitsunari. He could wait until Mitsunari woke up to smother him in the affection he’d sorely missed last night—and, it’d appeared, Mitsunari had noticed to be lacking as well.

Yes, he mused, Hanbei did indeed know best sometimes, even when it came to his own relationship.

Because if he had needed any proof that Mitsunari did not always just brush off his affection…Here it was.

So Ieyasu smiled, waiting for Mitsunari to open his eyes.

And this wait was much, much easier to stomach.