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May 28th, 11:48 P.M.
Sosuke was in bed already.
He was always the one to get in bed first because his routine was quite simple. Shower, wash his face, change into respectable sleeping clothes and get into bed quickly, smoothly. It was a routine he had followed for years and had no plans to change it, even tonight.
Ah, yes. Tonight. The eve of May 29th.
He never had an affinity for his birthday. His only friends were his own husband, Kisuke Urahara, and occasionally Ururu and Jinta if he were nice to them. He didn’t consider Tessai a friend, more like a very respectable…colleague within the household, who understood his eccentric husband almost as much as Sosuke did. Sosuke knew of other people, sure, such as Yoruichi Shihoin because she was Kisuke’s best friend and accompanied him everywhere like a very clingy cat, and she had more often than not antagonized Sosuke — once by putting hemorrhoid cream in place of his toothpaste. It was the first and last time he had relaxed around that woman. Then there was Shinji Hirako, Kisuke’s other friend. Hirako was loud and very opinionated, and often came to their house with the formidable but tiny Hiyori Sarugaki. She was… a friend? Sosuke didn’t know for sure, because she had looked like she wanted to bite Kisuke a couple of times, but the latter had always beamed at the mention of her name so Sosuke thought she must be a friend, as weird as an arrangement it was. There was also the problem of Mayuri Kurotsuchi, who Sosuke begrudgingly accepted as Kisuke’s friend. It wasn’t to say that he despised Kurotsuchi, no. He was respectable in his own twisted way. Mean? Yes. Though that is an understatement. Cold? Of course. That was the attitude Sosuke had liked, and he says had because Kisuke pointed out, one night, that Kurotsuchi reminded Kisuke of Sosuke sometimes, in his mannerisms, in the way he treated Kisuke and others — cold, aloof and sometimes mad in passion for his subject, and that gave Sosuke what the kids would call an ick. Having your husband compare your likeliness to some friend of his that he has history with… Sosuke shivered with repulsion. No, he decided. He had nothing in common with Kurotsuchi.
The point of all of this is that all the people Sosuke knew he had known because they were friends of Kisuke’s and that made him their friend-in-law. He had no friends of his own, he wouldn’t call Kaname or Gin his friends. More like colleagues. Or maybe…acquaintances but even then he would only call them that if he were drunk. But, nevertheless, with the little number of colleagues he knew, Sosuke thought a birthday party would be unnecessary. And he had planned to tell Kisuke tonight, like he did every past May 28th at 11:48 P.M., since they’ve been together.
Speaking of, Kisuke had just entered the room the way he always did — sneaky, but loud in his presence. Contradictory. Always contradictory. Kisuke was full of them— contradictions. He took off his robes, and Sosuke had pretended not to stare but Kisuke knew, he always knew Sosuke stared at his shirtless back because he would get that smug grin and stupid glint in his eyes. He would also always provide a strip tease that Sosuke most definitely never enjoyed. After stripping away every piece of clothing, Kisuke landed in the bed beside Sosuke, sighing and sinking into the mattress. Naked, of course, because they were married for five years now and Kisuke being naked was normal. Also routine. Sosuke would be worried if he had pants on.
“You know,” Kisuke started, extending an arm across the headboard, “those kids could be drowsy all day but the second I say bedtime, it’s like they have all the energy in the world. Awful, really. I even try to get them to do chores across the house beforehand to get rid of any excess energy but still!”
“Maybe it’s karma, then, because you bribe them to do your chores that Tessai had assigned to you,” Aizen said pointedly as he snuggled in closely, subconsciously, to Kisuke. “Hey! Keep your voice down, will you? If Tessai hears you, he’ll have me scrubbing the toilets next. And I do not want to be the one to scrub Yoruichi-san’s toilet.”
Kisuke shuddered in revulsion.
“Yes she is quite terrible,” Sosuke agreed, wincing at the memory of Yoruichi purposefully leaving nutella on the toilet seat lid to trick Kisuke into thinking it was something else entirely. “Though I’m sure the Ferrero company would love to send her a gift card for using how many nutella jars to pull her elaborate prank on every person she knows.”
“Don’t remind me of that,” Kisuke wailed, “It’s your birthday in a few minutes, talk about something more pleasant like…ooh, birthday sex.” He wriggled his eyebrows and attempted to scoot closer, letting out a groan as Sosuke placed a cautionary hand on his chest. Plans, thwarted once again…
“We can do that tomorrow, you deviant… Speaking of my birthday,” Sosuke started a bit hesitantly, “I would appreciate it if we were to do nothing this year. To treat it as a normal day, please. I don’t want any of your parties.”
“Not this again,” came the muffled reply from the pillows, because by the time Sosuke was done stringing that sentence together, Kisuke had shoved his face into the pillows like a big upset baby. “You never let me celebrate you, my beloved Sou-chan. Why?!”
“Yes I do. You celebrate my body every birthday night.”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” A grey eye peeked from the pillow. “A party. With our friends.”
“Your friends. They barely tolerate me.”
“They so do! Well, Yoruichi does.”
“She does not. She just loves to torment me and you know it.”
“She does! And besides, we can invite your friends. Like uh, that cute one.”
Aizen raised an eyebrow now. “Who? Gin? He can hardly be classified as cute.”
“Hey. He’s plenty cute, like a baby snake” Kisuke raised a finger in objection. “But not him. I mean Momo-chan. The wide-eyed one. She admires you a lot, you know. We can invite her and her little friend Hitsugaya.”
“She is not my friend. I am more of a mentor… in a way. Besides, Hitsugaya will bring along his friend Matsumoto and you know that peculiar tattooed boy—”
“— Shuhei Hisagi. Heh. I scammed him once.”
“Yes, that one, who will follow Matsumoto here like a lovesick puppy. And then the whole circus would follow him. So no, forget it. No party, Kisuke.”
He groaned again and flipped over. “Sosuke, you’re so difficult!”
“I am literally saving you the expense of decorating and cleaning up for a party. So I am quite the opposite of being difficult right now.” Sosuke crossed his arms with a finality. “We are having a normal, everyday dinner and that will be all we are doing because there will. be. no. party.”
Kisuke opened his mouth to protest again but Sosuke beat him to it. “I will revoke birthday sex.”
His husband gasped, offended by the threat even coming out of Sosuke’s mouth. “Fine,” He relented, “you have my word.” He scooted closer this time and Sosuke allowed it, finally snuggling into Kisuke’s chest, who sighed like he was in paradise.
“Your word,” Sosuke scoffed, but it lacked his usual edge and bite, “that is— laughable.”
Kisuke kissed his forehead first while his stubble scratched Sosuke’s nose in a most satisfying manner, then his eyelids, and finally his lips. It lasted for quite a moment, Sosuke’s hands coming up to grip the straw blonde locks of his husband’s, then travelling to Kisuke’s shoulders and resting on his chest. Kisuke’s hands had come to grab Sosuke by the waist, fitting there perfectly like two puzzle pieces sliding in together. It ended with Kisuke straddling Sosuke, elbows propping him up as he glanced down affectionately.
Kisuke was usually so closed off, his hair always partially covering his eyes when his hat wasn’t around to do the trick, but for now he allowed Sosuke to push back his hair and see the loving glint in his eyes. It was rare. Very rare. To see those grey eyes finally focused on him. Not on the kids, or the shop, or Kisuke’s friends like Kurotsuchi, but on Sosuke and Sosuke only. It was the best birthday gift he kept on getting every year.
May 29th, 12 A.M.
“Happy birthday, my emotionally constipated husband,” Kisuke murmured with his normal cadence, not the one that was feigning playfulness in front of an audience. He kissed the tip of Sosuke’s nose then rolled over to sleep right next to him.
“Goodnight, my equally emotionally constipated husband,” Sosuke softly replied.
May 29th, 9 A.M.
He usually never woke up this late. Sosuke would be up at 6 a.m. most days, ready for whatever the day would bring in terms of Ururu and Jinta but also the chaotic household when Kisuke’s friends come over. It was his birthday, though, and he would allow himself this one indulgence without making a big deal of it.
He should have known, however, that despite his insistence on no party that Kisuke would find another outlet for his excessive birthday celebrations. And that outlet was through a birthday breakfast in bed, complete with steaming miso soup, fluffy white rice and grilled salmon with sweet potato on the side. It was obvious that it was Tessai who cooked all this — for one it was very neat and organized, not haphazard in the way Kisuke makes his food, like it was a scientific formula. The food was also very traditional. If it were his husband, it would’ve been some donuts and coffee. Or a weird concoction of food blended together in a milkshake. No in between.
“My dearly beloved!” Kisuke wailed like he and Sosuke had been separated for decades on end across different continents, “Happy birthday. Enjoy your lovely breakfast in bed and relax, for I will be giving you the special Urahara-Shoten-Exclusive-Massage!” He placed the bed tray carefully in front of Sosuke, who scooted forward and allowed Kisuke to sit behind him. “I do hope you’re not going to make me pay for this massage, husband.” He asked pointedly as he took a sip of the miso soup.
Kisuke’s hands had come to rest on his shoulders, rubbing lightly as he leisurely pressed kisses to Sosuke’s elegant, pale neck. “Mmm.. no… this’ll be special treatment for my husband,” he said in between kisses, “and his very elegant neck. Seriously, has anyone told you how addictingly soft and smooth it is? I just want to bite you.”
“Oh, do calm down, Dracula. And yes, you say that to me everytime you get a chance to kiss my…hh.. neck,” Sosuke quipped, though his voice cracked at the last few words because Kisuke had decided it was the perfect time to be distracting and by distracting, he had started sucking on Sosuke’s neck and forming hickeys.
“I’m trying. You’re just so distracting… glowing like that, on your birthday. Just unbelievable…” Kisuke murmured, trying to dodge Sosuke’s hand trying to stop him.
“You said it was just a massage, Kisuke,” Sosuke breathed, “leave the lust for later tonight and let me finish the breakfast you requested Tessai to make.” The blonde relented, pouting but assuming an appropriate masseuse position.
“How’d you even know it was Tessai’s cooking? For all you know, I could’ve been the one up at six A.M. making you grilled salmon.”
“Were you?”
“...No. But I could’ve been!”
“Mm…I know you can cook, Kisuke. However, I also know that you’re too lazy and reliant on Tessai.”
“I like to refer to myself as an easygoing, pragmatic entrepreneur.”
“If you say so,” he hummed in response, tilting his head to give Kisuke a kiss on the cheek. “Still, thank you. Mostly for how quiet the house is right now. What did you do with the kids?”
“You noticed, huh?” Kisuke grinned toothily, leaning even closer for another kiss. “Well, don’t worry your pretty head about it Sou-chan. Let’s just say…I bribed them by allowing Jinta to egg Hirako’s house afterwards with Ururu.”
“How terrible. Have I told you how much I love your mind?”
“Only every other day. But I still appreciate it.”
“How humble of you.”
“You know me. The most humble but shady shopkeeper around~”
Kisuke got up, pressed one final kiss to Sosuke’s nape and put his bucket hat on. “Well, I’m up. The shop doesn’t run itself, you know. I also… well booked you this reservation at a cafe, sort of library situation this afternoon. Figured you might want to spend some time alone, y’know,” Kisuke’s voice dropped to that lower octave, the one that made Sosuke’s heart skip a beat with how genuine and authentically Kisuke it was, “I’ll take care of everything around here and have dinner ready!”
Sosuke suddenly found himself needing to look away and fixate on the corner of the bed immediately, away from those intense grey eyes, full of mirth and something deeper he was never able to discern.
It’s been five years since they married, and about ten more when they first met, as children in the sandbox. Even back then, he wasn’t able to fully understand Kisuke, with his tooth gap and mischievous twinkle in his eyes. The passage of time coupled with some terrible decisions faded that mischievous twinkle into subtle mirth and a kind of melancholy that comes when you’re older.
He found his voice eventually.
“I… appreciate it.”
Those eyes crinkled and Kisuke’s grin softened into a real smile. “Of course.” He knew those three words held the weight of all the things his Sosuke struggled to say.
May 29th, 7:15 P.M.
The cafe was pleasant enough.
Sosuke liked the environment — it was quiet, but not the somber kind — the more pleasant, more serene quiet where calming music played in the background and the occasional murmur could be heard. It was the kind of quiet Sosuke loved and got so little thanks to the circus he married into.
But, he thought, there was something comforting in the so-called circus he called home, too.
For the first time, Sosuke Aizen stood outside the door of the shoten, the breeze drifting on by as the sky darkened, and realized how empty his life would be without the constants in it.
Without Kisuke — his husband, his… other half. The man who constantly and without fail manages to capture Sosuke’s attention, to intrigue him and stimulate him intellectually at all times. To be the one that…gets it. Everything. How Sosuke’s brain works sometimes, how he purposely sabotages himself and isolates from others because he’s so used to being lonely and having new people in his life is change, and change can be good, he believes in change and evolution, but he’s also a hypocrite sometimes. Kisuke knows all this and chooses to embrace Sosuke still. to annoy him everyday in bed or outside. To…never pity him for being the way he is. Just understand him fully, even though he might have not once, because Kisuke Urahara had also changed a lot since the day they met. He had changed as much as Sosuke himself.
Without Ururu & Jinta — Kisuke’s two little kids that were and still are a headache, that makes the house so much livelier with their presence. Ururu with her skittish nature made Sosuke work to gain her trust and favor. Who still shyly approaches him at times when she needs help with tying her shoes or fixing her hair and Sosuke has to force himself to be extra gentle. Jinta, who was the polar opposite of Ururu, still trying to be gentle with her (Sosuke noticed, he always did) and asking him for help because Sosuke knows how to approach Ururu and wouldn’t tease him like Kisuke. Jinta who also seeks his help with big, begrudging and grumpy eyes when he wants to gel his hair and he knows only Sosuke has extremely well-coiffed hair.
Without Tessai — the gentle giant and the stable foundation of the household. There was no other way to describe the man. Whenever Sosuke had a headache, or was in a bad mood that made him ice everyone out or try to sabotage his relationships, Tessai knew. He offered him some tea. His favorite brand too: Mariage Frères. Sosuke would respond scathingly sometimes but Tessai never waivered. Just offer the tea again until Sosuke finally accepts, and apologizes quietly. Tessai just nods, but he swears the man’s eyes soften behind the glasses.
Without even Yoruichi — she might have been the bane of his existence as of late with her pranks, but she was sharp, sharp in a way that made Sosuke avoid eye contact, sharp in a way that he felt she knew how to peel every one of his layers bit by bit. There was once a time where Sosuke envied her, the easiness she and Kisuke had, the way they were able to slip into conversation or banter so smoothly while he had to plan, bit by bit, how to speak with Kisuke and impress him. With time, the envy vanished as Sosuke understood their bond and allowed it to continue as he nurtured his own with Kisuke.
Without Hinamori — the girl he so callously dismissed as being her mentor only when she was a sort of friend, in her way. Her admiration of Sosuke which he had once found incessant and blinding to the truth but soon understood that understanding does not mean apathy, and you can have strong admiration for someone and still understand them. Because Hinamori did understand him, from the twitch in his brow after an argument with Kisuke or the small wrinkle of his eye when he found some cat video particularly hilarious. It was he, Sosuke realized, that did not understand her.
Without Shinji and Hiyori — he had always thought they were an annoying pair tricky to separate, like hyenas. But they were also their own separate people.
Shinji had eyed him with distrust from the beginning, right down to his marriage, where he was the one who officiated Kisuke & Sosuke’s wedding. It was a funny thing, and it often kept Aizen on his toes to act more…accordingly and less like an asshole. Like a game of cat and mouse. He enjoyed the other’s company at times as well and found that Shinji Hirako could be very funny, when drunk.
Hiyori was, Sosuke liked to think, a raging ball of fluff and repressed childhood trauma that caused her to view the world and everyone else with anger. He didn’t fault her for that. He knew exactly how she felt, he was the same once upon a time — a person with feelings too big to share and too big to hide but with nowhere to go. Though his form of repression included coldness and isolation rather than anger.
Without Gin — the elusive snake was what people called him, and Sosuke had seen no fault with that nickname nor cruelty. Gin was, in many ways, elusive as a snake, always appearing from time to time with a knowing grin. It had unsettled him at first, though he would never admit it. Gin knew. Gin always knew. He had this uncanny ability to appear as though he knew everything Sosuke thought. It was the reason Sosuke kept him as a placeholder ‘friend’ in the beginning, but soon enough the feelings transformed into actual friendship. He would never admit that, either. But he knew that Gin knew and that was comfort enough.
Without a new addition, Kurosaki — the boy he’d mentored for so long and watched grow into a good, genuinely, truly, unconditionally good person. The kind of good that was nurtured, that extended to Sosuke and helped him become partially good in some ways. There was a special kind of understanding of himself he had gained better through helping raise and nurture someone like Ichigo Kurosaki.
Without Kaname — the first person Sosuke would consider a friend. Everything about him was genuine: from the way he talked to Sosuke, to the smile he gave him when Sosuke said something particularly dry or witty, and the loyalty he offered like oxygen. It was overwhelming, to know someone so easily, willingly, blindly accepting of him. He had doubted this acceptance time and time again, and Kaname would continue to prove his doubts wrong again and again. He seemed to know whenever Sosuke was upset almost naturally, understood that frosty “I’m quite fine” and gave it time to grow into “Well, actually, something did occur…” Patient. Endlessly patient.
Patience.
That was the trait everyone he had thought of had in abundance when it came to him. In their own way, despite how aggressive or sneaky it seemed, every one of his…well,... his friends and lover had their own special kind of patience for him. Yes, his friends. As much as he’d tried to run away from the commitment, he knew that these people were his friends.
Because of the rather sentimental thoughts running through Sosuke’s mind, his usually sharp senses were dulled. He didn’t hear the item inside knocked down, or the hissed, “What’s taking him so long?!” from Hiyori, and Shinji shushing her.
The doorknob turned.
He was greeted with approximately — yes his ears were that accurate — twenty voices all shouting “happy birthday!” at his face. Ah yes. The noise was back and all the serenity he felt from the cafe dissipated so quickly Sosuke wasn’t sure he could remember the feeling.
Kisuke was holding the cake. It was crudely decorated, the “Happy Birthday, Sosuke” lopsided and messy, frosting haphazardly applied. There were about a dozen candles on top of the cake, not even near his actual age. He looked around. Kisuke was singing with bright eyes crinkling as he couldn’t even hold in his smile. Ururu and Jints were on each of Tessai’s shoulders, who was also singing with an expression Sosuke couldn’t decipher but he hoped was happy. Next to Kisuke was Yoruichi with an arm slung around his shoulder and naturally that one woman with a bowl cut (Soi-Fon was her name, he learned later) was standing close to her, arms crossed.
Hinamori was there as well, clapping her hands excitedly. She had brought Hitsugaya and Matsumoto as Sosuke predicted, and that tattooed boy who was standing very nervously next to Gin. There was Kaname too, composed as ever but Sosuke could see him grip Gin’s sleeve — he always did so when it was loud — and next to him stood Hiyori with her arms crossed and refusing to sing. Shinji was leaning down and poking her cheek so he could get her to sing along with the air of a man who knew he was risking both his life and his dignity. Kurosaki had come along too, hands shoved in his pocket, standing next to a very disgruntled Grimmjow and an excited Inoue. Sosuke had no idea how they had come, honestly. He would have to supervise and ensure they weren’t going to be drinking.
On the other side of the room, miraculously stood Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Sosuke would have to ask Kisuke later what kind of witchcraft he’d used on the painted man to convince him to come. Next to him were colleagues Sosuke recognized as pleasant company: Ukitake and Kyoraku. The latter was holding a drink already, and Ukitake was keeping an eye on Kurotsuchi, most likely.
It was chaotic and messy. Sosuke figured that was the best possible surprise they could have given him that he wouldn’t have been mad at. He still mouthed, ‘you gave me your word’ to Kisuke who shrugged him off while singing.
The off-key singing reached its end.
“...Happy Birthday dear Sosuke, happy birthday to you!”
Sosuke Aizen stepped inside the house, a warm smile breaking out against his consent and a genuine “Thank you for this,” admitted.
– The End –