#me and reader 🤝 crying when someone say they’re proud of us

[missmeinyourbones]

if we make it through december

cw: mentions of holiday celebrations, family & childhood trauma, suna is a bit thick in the head but he's trying, i love u all and am giving u a very big hug this holiday season

The floors of your apartment creak beneath light footsteps when you tiptoe into the kitchen to click the heat on.

You keep forgetting that it's December now and that your heat should be switched to automatic rather than the manual setting it's still set to. Mornings like this where your nose is a bit raw from a dry sleep and you hiss at the cold floor skimming your bare feet remind you that the year has indeed passed.

In the almost year that the two of you have been together, you've learned that Rintaro sleeps both cold and like a damn log. Crawling from his dead-weight grasp early this morning was no challenge, and while your teeth are nearly chattering, you know he's more than comfortable beneath the sheets of your bed.

While you wait for the radiator to squeal and signal that it's doing its job, you fall into the usual routine of filling your kettle and preparing a cup of tea. You don't expect your lover to be up for a while, so you plan to preoccupy (and warm) yourself for a bit before he finally stumbles down the hall.

Water quickly boils and ceramic clanks together in the cabinet. And before you know it, you're silently admiring a freshly brewed cup of tea and adding your usual like of milk to it.

While lost in a spoonwork of swirling colors, you abruptly feel two cold hands inching beneath your sleep shirt. Instinctually, you hiss at the unwelcoming feeling as palms flatten and rub themselves against your goosebump-covered skin.

Into the back of your head, you hear Rintaro chuckle at your dramatics. He pulls you closer and kneels a bit so his chin can comfortably rest in the dent of your shoulder. You loosen a bit as he places a gentle kiss on your temple.

He clears his raspy throat, "Sorry, baby."

Rintaro laughs again when he feels you sigh but relax into his nippy touch. Loosening his hold on you, he allows you to shimmy around and face him - puffy morning eyes and all.

Between his steady arms and the kitchen counter, you raise your mug to his chapped lips. He gently blows on the top before taking a small taste, humming his thanks and approval at the warm sweetness on his tongue.

Your morning is enjoyed through shared sips and quiet words, and it feels like it's always supposed to be like this. It's warm and inviting, like a home you never really had unless you were asleep and yearning for it.

With a chilled nose and slightly burnt tongue, you're grateful.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Rintaro takes one more sip and swallows before letting you cradle it between your hands. "What're your plans for the holidays?"

You feel something crack inside of you. It's a tough thing to explain, but your heart sinks at his innocent question.

Not yet having spent a holiday together, you weren't naive to the fact that this conversation was inevitable. You'd expected it eventually, maybe not so soon; but again, the feeling of your apartment's heat finally kicking in reminds you that it is December and soon isn't really soon at all.

Trying too hard to be casual, you shrug and take a drink of your own, "Uh, nothing really."

You watch the corners of his mouth twitch with amusement. "Nothing?" he dryly chuckles.

Biting the inside of your cheek and praying to whoever is listening for him to just drop it, you choose to shrug once more.

He crinkles his nose with faux mocking,

"Nothing like 'boring family holiday party' nothing? Or 'stupid traditions you need to play along with, just to say you did' nothing?"

Feigning casualty and doing your best to look at anything that's not his eyes, you shake your head.

"Nah, I was just gonna stay here. Maybe make those cheap sugar cookies I like but," you gesture to the painfully silent apartment around you and preoccupy your mouth against the rim of your cup before weakly finishing, "...yeah."

You can see the gears quickly turning in Rintaro's head as he scans your face for any sign of humor; when he doesn't find one, he realizes that you're serious.

"Oh—I guess I just figured you'd be flying back to see your parents."

"No, I—” you wince at your own voice as you stutter on an explanation before pathetically deciding on, "—don't do that."

Quizzically, Rintaro's head turns to the side in thought. He backs up a bit, and you internally frown at the loss of warmth when he leans against the opposite counter to take a good look at you.

"What do you mean, you don't do that?"

He asks and there's no sourness in his voice. He's just asking—just wants to know and understand you as best as he can. And it kind of makes you nauseous with a feeling you instantly want to rid of.

You rub your sock-covered feet together in anxiousness, "We don't really talk."

"I mean, I don't talk to most of my family either, but I still go home for the holidays and show my face, do that weird small talk thing with them."

At any other moment, you'd laugh at his casual bluntness, but you don't have it in you when you know you aren't really on the same page.

With a weak smile, you shake your head and attempt to wrap up the situation once more. "It's no big deal. I'm all set."

Quick both on and off the court, he doesn't falter when he presses. "Well, when was the last time you saw them?"

You awkwardly laugh and do that thing you do, where your nose crinkles in hesitancy, knowing that he won't like your answer. Because even if Rintaro doesn't know everything about you, he does know a hell of a lot; and he'll be damned if he doesn't keep on learning more.

"Are you telling me that your family hasn't seen you in years?" he breathes in disbelief, unable to wrap his head around not spending time with his own parents and sister.

Feeling your patience wearing a bit thin at his innocent prodding of your insecurity, you sigh.

"It's just how things are with us."

Silence overtakes the small space of kitchen between the two of you. Rintaro stares at you, not with a judgemental gaze like everyone else who eventually finds this information out about you, but with a bittersweet one, as if he's trying to sort through and rotate your fragile puzzle pieces before being confident enough to insert them into place.

His voice comes in a soft whisper after a few moments, "You're really not going?"

"I… wasn't invited," you mimic his pitch without meeting his eyes.

"You… weren't invited home?"

"It's not really a home," you mumble, eyes stuck to the ground when you reassure him, "like I said, it's just complicated. I'm good, Rin."

Another gentle staring contest ensues, one with no words being said but a whole lot of unsaid thoughts ebbing and flowing between the two of you.

Just as you begin to crumble beneath his heavy gaze, Rintaro sighs and closes the gap between the two of you again. His hands carefully find your sides like they always do, but this time with a bit more caution. He's careful when he easily lifts you onto the counter, trying to make it a bit easier for him to hold your gaze.

You feel like a child again, guilt rotting in the pit of your stomach as your eyes are glued to your feet swinging against the lower cabinets of your kitchen. You wonder if the floorboards can swallow you up, take you back to that place of stable loneliness.

"You know you can tell me these things, right?" he softly kisses into your hairline. "You don't have to, but you can."

You nod against his movements, not really wanting to explain but knowing you should. It's Rintaro, you know he'll understand, but a small part of you can't help but still errs on the side of caution.

"It's for the better, really."

Your words are muffled against his chest. You feel hum nod slowly, letting you take your time while silently encouraging you to continue if you'd like.

And you do.

"Just didn't have a great childhood. Lots of dealing with my parents' mistakes and helping out with my siblings because of it."

Tender fingers skim the soft angle of your jaw when Rintaro hums, "That was really brave of you."

You feel that wall building itself up again, but you can't stop it, don't know how to. "It was fine," you shrug off his kindness, deflecting it how you know to.

And the small, sane part of you sighs in relief because Rintaro notices. He can't help but notice.

He presses against your skin, "It wasn't. Kids aren't supposed to raise kids."

He's right, you know he is. You wish you could just say that, but all that comes out of your mouth is a detached, "Well, it's over now."

"It is," he gently agrees with your words, taking a thumb to your bottom lip and tilting your head upwards, "and I'm proud of you. You did good, baby."

You're little again, and there's suddenly no room for the praise to fit inside of you. Your body rejects it, forces it to well up in your eyes and trickle down your cheeks in a feeble attempt to rid of the uneasy feeling in your throat.

And you're crying. Wetly and awkwardly laughing, you quickly flick the tears from your cheeks as you shy away from the intimacy. "Ew, sorry. Thanks."

Rintaro sadly smiles at you--always sorry for nothing, and now he's beginning to understand why.

"C'mere," he cradles the back of your head again and lets you breathe in the scent of his hoodie.

"Sorry—"

"Stop apologizing," he firmly kisses your forehead, hoping for it to seep beneath your skin and stick itself inside of you.

He feels your smaller frame shake against him, and he's instantly relieved to know it's out of a weak laugh rather than a sob. You murmur, "I just—I'm sure you know by now that I—can't really handle nice things."

"Hey," his now warm hand rubs circles on your back, "you deserve nice things, y'know?"

No longer letting you shy away from his words, he uses his free hand to lift your jaw upwards again. Met with your teary eyes and sniffing nose, he peppers kisses against your skin with care.

"And if you'd stop being so stubborn all the time, maybe I could give you nice things more often, yeah?"

His heart flutters when you roll your eyes at his words, and he can't bite back the smile that crawls across his face at your usual attitude.

As he caresses your damp cheek with slender fingers, you speak into the side of his palm. "You give me enough nice things."

Rintaro smiles but shakes his head, "Really, I don't."

Another big shaky breath rocks your frame, and Rintaro melts at your bravery when you tell him, "No one's ever really cared for me the way you do, and I guess it freaks me out sometimes." You catch yourself almost apologizing for it, but bite your tongue; and as if he too notices it, he smiles with pride.

"We can work on it," he promises, hand heavy on your back, "I'm not goin' anywhere."

He holds you for as long as you'll let him, and in a tangle of limbs and soft kisses, you sway in one another's warmth. It's just the two of you, in your tiny kitchen apartment with shitty heating, when he says--

"So, what are our holiday plans?"

"Our?" You shoot him a weak warning glare. "I said I'm staying here. You should go home though, it'll be nice to see your sister."

"We will be going home, yeah. Mom's been annoying me about meeting in person you, anyways."

Your eyes find his and that unsettling feeling fills your heart once more, but this time, it seeps further than your throat. It's in the tips of your fingers and works its way down to your sock-clad toes. It's in your lungs, entering with every inhale and doubling with each exhale.

It's everywhere—and even though it's terrifying, you sit with it. Because it's yours.

He gently brushes some stray hairs behind your ear and sighs, "And if I'm gonna sit through a painful holiday dinner, think I'm gonna need you there to hold my hand."