Two Pieces of a Whole [Maotsujun one-shot]

Author: tashiichaan
Featuring: Matsumoto Jun x Inoue Mao
Genre: Romance. One-shot. Ex-drabble at a word count of 1,793. (I THINK I SHOULD GIVE UP ATTEMPTING AT DRABBLES NOW XDDDDDDDD)
Rating: T
Warning: Fluff all the wayyyyyyyy~ Get ready for some tooth cavity!
Summary: On a rainy day, Mao returns to an empty house yearning for her one special man to cuddle up to.

I’m supposed to have writer’s block. Still do D: But for some reason I really got inspired to write a fluffy one-shot and immediately thought of JunxMao <3 Finished in two hours, without editing, yay!

Inspired by this piano rendition of Love So Sweet (which IMO is the best rendition out of all I’ve heard/watched – really melancholic and sweet):

——————–

Two Pieces of a Whole

The air inside the house was still and quiet, with all but the echo of rain thundering down on the roof and exterior walls. It was another typical autumn day – positively gloomy, extremely wet and it put a damper on everyone’s spirit. The emptiness of the house reflected that, and the lack of a human occupant in weeks.

Then, the front door was flung open, allowing the rain to splatter in all its content into the house, along with a figure who threw herself and her umbrella into the ganken and shutting the door grumpily behind her.

“This umbrella has no use at all,” she whined. She shivered as she shrugged off her waistcoat, drenched inside and out.

Inoue Mao hated rain.

Or more specifically, she just hated getting wet when she intended to be dry. When it rained, she couldn’t just skip merrily to a nearby convenience store, or cycle around the neighbourhood like she always did in the evenings. She was a person moulded out of sunshine, and when she didn’t have her sunshine she’d turn cold.

How she wished she could snuggle up to someone right now. She always did that on chilly, rainy days, but no one was around.

“Did you miss me, home? Have you been good while your master and mistress were gone?” Mao called out happily to the empty house. She was determined to try and be cheerful despite the blasted rain. After all, she was home.

She stepped out of her shoes and dragged her luggage (dripping with rain water) along the hallway towards the stairs. She stood transfixed at the bottom step, daunted by the task of dragging her soaked luggage up a flight of stairs. She remembered having such fun kicking the very same luggage from the top of the stairs and watching in excitement as the luggage tumbled down noisily. She earned an annoyed yell and a lecture which put a doubt to her maturity.

That was three weeks ago, when the master of the house left to go overseas for promotional work, and the mistress of the house left to live with her family in Osaka because she didn’t want to be alone.

Aside from the rain, she found out she hated being alone, too.

“Gah, I’ll just bring it up later,” Mao grumbled, giving the luggage a light kick before she ascended the stairs.

She opened the door to her bedroom, and a pang of familiarity hit her. Till then, she hadn’t realised how much she missed her bedroom. Of all the places in the house, she loved her bedroom the most, because it was the room where she woke up in when sunlight pierced through the windows, and the room where she slept in when moonlight glimmered on her face. It was an island of haven, isolated from the world outside in which she found comfort and love and peace. She loved to be buried deep under the quilt and the pillows, warmed and cuddled by the touch of her loved one.

The bed was made, the expensive sheets crisped and cleaned. Suddenly Mao felt a flicker of mischief under her skin, and she sprinted across the room, throwing herself onto the bed and landing spread-eagled on her back.

“I miss you so much,” she cooed, rubbing her hands on the familiar texture of intricate thread-designs on the quilt. She adjusted her position so that she lay on one side of the bed, her head nested in the fluffy pillows. She breathed deeply and sighed in content. Now she was happy.

She cast her eyes at the windows, its curtains drawn and rain thudding onto the glass. By now the rain had lessened, and the sound of splashing rain was more soothing and calming rather than furious and urgent. On days like this, her mind would easily drift off to random memories, of faraway or recent, all wonderful memories that would bring a small smile to her lips. That was exactly what she was doing now, as she absent-mindedly rested her hand on her stomach, the other stretched out across the other side of the bed.

“Jun, come home quick ne,” Mao whispered to the ceiling. She ran her hand across the other pillow, imagining that it was Jun’s soft hair that she was ruffling though. His hair was always messy in the mornings, and they stood up on its ends in every possible direction that if he wasn’t used to it, he’d scream in horror.

But she loved it. And that was why Jun never screamed in horror in the mornings now.

Then suddenly she remembered that this little haven was also Jun’s favourite reading spot.

“Matsujuuuun,” she called out, using the very same singsong tone she had heard Aiba use when trying to butter Jun up. She skipped across the room to the four-poster bed they shared, which Jun was lying on with the pillows propped up and was currently engrossed in a novel about pirate adventures.

“Why’re you suddenly calling me that?”

“Just to get your attention,” Mao grinned, flinging herself on the bed and resting her head on his lap.

Jun lowered the book slightly and peered at her with arched eyebrows. “This better be good, because I’m at a really good scene here. Two pirate ships are fighting each other with cannons and muskets!”

“Why do you have to read a book on the only day of the week when we’re both free?” Mao demanded, poking him mercilessly in the ribs.

“Ow! Don’t do that, or I swear I’m going to sleep in the guest bedroom tonight.”

Mao started to pout. “I’ll sneak into the bed and sleep with you, anyways.”

Jun stared at her pleading, watery eyes for a few seconds, and knew he had no way out of this. Sighing, he lowered his book and sat upright, gazing down at her in a mixture of annoyance and affection.

“Alright, tell me, what do you want right now?” he asked.

“A baby,” she answered straight away.

“Whaaaat?! Right now?!”

“I dunno, I just said whatever that first came into my mind. Although, I’ve been thinking about it…”

Jun blinked a few times. Another few seconds of silence passed between them, one of them eager and questioning, the other scrutinising. Then, Jun broke into a grin, that very charming grin that was so damn irresistible that it would break every single woman’s heart save one.

“So… you want a baby?” he said slowly.

“I guess…” she replied slowly. Then she peered at him thoughtfully. “What? Are you really gonna get me a baby? You could ask Kato-san next door – maybe we can borrow her five-month-old daughter…”

Chuckling, Jun bookmarked the last page he’d stopped in the book and placed it on the bedside table. He turned back to Mao and reached out for her.

“Let’s make one right now,” he said.

“Now?”

“Uh huh…” He brought her closer and traced his lips along the length of her neck…

“I don’t know why you can’t bother to bring up your own luggage… I had to carry both yours and mine up the stairs myself, and I am very confident that their combined weight is heavier than you and me both.”

That voice felt distant to her ears, and yet it brought a fluttering sensation in the pits of her stomach. Slowly she opened her eyes, blurrily studying her surroundings to get a sense of familiarity back. Her vision came into focus, and the first thing she saw was the bay windows. Outside, the rain had stopped. Gone was the grey and the gloom; the sky was clearer now.

How long had she been asleep? She didn’t know she had even fallen asleep, because that memory of her and Jun felt so real…

“Mao-chan?”

She blinked. That voice… it sounded so much like…

Sleepily she rubbed her eyes, hoping she wasn’t imagining things from her dream, and when she opened them, she saw her husband standing at her side of the bed and wearing an exhausted but affectionate smile.

“Jun…?” she gasped. “I thought you’re returning on Saturday.”

“Finished ahead of schedule. Besides, almost a month of sleeping alone on a cold bed proved too much for me to handle,” he laughed. He crawled onto the bed and lay down behind her, gently rolling her around so that she faced him. He enfolded his arms around her body and with an adoring gaze in his eyes, he kissed her long and deep.

“God, I’m so tired. Damned jetlag,” he cursed, exhaling a breath of fatigue.

“Need me to get you something?” Mao asked. “Maybe I could run a bath for you…”

“Don’t worry about that. I think I’ll just stay right here for a while… I miss you so much,” he breathed, burying his face in her neck and planting butterfly kisses on the delicate skin.

“Don’t make me cry,” Mao sniffled quietly.

Jun looked up and studied her face with narrowed eyes. “Baka, you’re already crying,” he snorted, and then he kissed the tears away from her eyes. “So you’re indirectly admitting you can’t live a single day without me?”

She didn’t reply. She reached her hand up and cupped his cheek, gently rubbing the soft skin before she brought his face closer and kissed him. Soft and yet empowered with love.

“Something’s up with you,” he remarked when they broke the kiss. “Care to explain why you’re feeling particularly lazy today that you decided to leave your luggage for your husband to carry it up?”

Gazing deep into his twinkling eyes, she couldn’t help but scrunch up the largest smile she could ever stretch, one which exuded a sort of indescribable happiness that was so overwhelming. She breathed deeply and exhaled a breath of euphoria that she had been containing for weeks untold to anyone. Licking her lips, she brought Jun’s hand up and slowly placed it on her belly.

“This is your explanation,” she whispered.

She searched his face for any sort of reaction, unsure if he was going to take the sudden news easily. She wasn’t sure if he was ready. As she waited anxiously, Jun wordlessly ran his hand all over her belly, his touch shy and inquisitive yet warm and accepting. Then the corner of his lips curled into a smile of welcoming affection, one that she had never seen before. It was so endearing to watch him that she felt tears well up in her eyes again.

“Guess we managed to make that baby after all,” he joked. He turned to her face and stopped. “Oh no… you’re crying again? What’s with women and their emotions these days…” And he kissed her again, as husband and wife, future father and mother.

~