Work Text:
Toshinori was up first because he always was. Fingers were dragging through my hair slowly, a tender action surely not meant to rouse me, just something self-indulgent for his own benefit. It was comforting. And it felt good, so I didn’t move, didn’t sigh or yawn or give any indication I was awake in case it changed the rhythmic pass of fingertips across my scalp. Once every few strokes, my bangs were gathered away from my forehead, only to fall back into place for him to rearrange once more.
It felt earlier than I wanted it to be but late enough to make attempting to find sleep again futile. Opening my eyes to check the time was equally pointless. Even if the alarm wasn’t set, the man I was mostly lying on was undoubtedly watching the clock to make sure we wouldn’t be late getting up for work. My head on his chest and arm over his stomach gently rose and fell with his breathing, nearly in sync with my own. The hand in my hair remained a constant and soothing presence as sluggish morning minutes drifted by. Truly, I couldn’t recall a better way to ease into the day.
For that matter, I couldn’t recall any of my other partners being so frequently open in their physical affections. Besides Hizashi, of course, but that was mostly due to teenage hormones and his inability to stop fidgeting, which had translated into constant touching during our youthful exploration and mutual foray into our respective sexualities. Even now, years after agreeing we made better friends than boyfriends, he was still very handsy. I wasn’t sure any of my other former boyfriends had reached out with all the numerous kisses and casual touches like Toshinori did. It hadn’t even occurred to me things like that were absent from my previous relationships, yet now that I was being showered with so many, I found myself leaning into them, literally and figuratively.
Because good things never lasted for me, in life or love, I had learned early on to soak up as many of the nice moments as possible before they were gone. Nice moments like this one, with a man who offered up so many to me- the man who no one thought would notice them.
Despite what others openly assumed, I wasn’t averse to the kinder expressions of emotion. In truth, I appreciated a thoughtful gesture as much as the next person. It's just unlike everyone else, I wasn’t socially beholden to them, to making a big deal over them, nor did I hesitate to express my distaste if they made me uncomfortable, even if it was considered impolite to do so. However, the true pitfall which invariably tripped me up was I rarely, if ever, was the one to initiate acts of affection. Some partners saw it as a sign I wasn’t invested, untrue as the case may be.
Eventually, this new relationship would reach that very same impasse which had been the cause of a good portion of my breakups. I would fail to rise to the level of romance Toshinori set the precedent for and rightfully expected in return. Deserved in return. He would realize my apathy was chronic and taking advantage of his generous nature, so he’d move on.
Or worse, he might simply settle for me and my lack of romantic tendencies because he didn’t think he could do better. The conversation from our first night together still skulked on the outskirts of my mind. If I became some lukewarm consolation prize when he deserved so much more but lacked the good sense to dump me, I’d have to kick my own ass to the curb for him. Hizashi would help, too. And probably Nemuri as well. And the entire hero community if they found out we were dating.
One week in and we’d already had a bit of friction because I wasn’t used to communicating on a level befitting a significant other. It called for the reciprocal kind of trust and emotional intimacy I was apparently ill-equipped to return, having never successfully done so before with someone I was dating. But maybe this time around, I’d find it in me to be a good partner instead of a disappointing one. Maybe I wouldn’t fuck it up before I figured out how to make it work.
Providing, of course, Toshinori was up to the challenge of seeing past my idiosyncrasies to the best intentions beneath.
Jeez. It was way too early to be so introspective.
I tightened my hold on the warm, wiry body under me and finally succumbed to the yawn which had been nudging at me for some time now, rubbing my cheek to the exaggerated contour of ribs. The hand in my hair retreated under the blanket to settle over my waist, as if the tender action from moments ago never happened; over too soon, like all good things.
“Good morning.” The bony foot tangled up with mine rubbed a few times in greeting.
“Mm.”
“You’ve got another twenty-three minutes before we have to get up. Go back to sleep.”
That was quite possibly the sexiest sentence he’d ever said to me.
Unfortunately, my mind already decided to get started on the day and at most, I’d be resting with my eyes closed, which, as tempting as that extra bit of rest sounded, I wasn’t in the mood to sit quietly with my thoughts. Not if they were going to keep circling the drain of self-reflection.
“I’m up.”
“And before the alarm, no less! That’s a first.”
“Been known to happen.” I tilted my face to kiss his chest. “But I can think of a few other things we can do with those twenty-three minutes.”
Last night was the first night we hadn’t had sex in one form or another since this thing between us started. I hadn’t even intended to stay the night. After attending a briefing close to where Toshinori lived, for a potential sting operation to be carried out in a few days, I’d stopped by his place to pick up the assortment of clothing I’d left over the course of the week, and he offered to share the dinner he was having. We then fell asleep on the couch watching the news over bowls of zosui, woke up groggy sometime around two, then helped each other stagger into bed.
The plan this morning was to get in a workout before heading to UA but there was more than one way to get the blood flowing.
Toshinori hummed a chuckle at my offer. “Saucy. But, ah, as wonderful as that proposition sounds, I’m not so sure I’m up for much this morning.”
“Feeling okay?” I twisted around to look at him. There weren’t blackout curtains here like at my place. The bright glow of a spring dawn emanated from the blinds, illuminating everything in warm light. Toshinori’s dark eyes were tired, and his complexion seemed paler than usual, but there was a smile sitting attentively on his mouth.
“Just tired today.” He tucked some loose hair behind my ear. “But I’m more than happy to take care of you, if you’re in the mood.”
Workout is was, then. “I’m fine.” I laid my head back down on his chest. “Was just an offer if you were interested.”
“You sure?” The hand on my waist ran down my belly to toy with the hair under the band of my boxer briefs, finger tips stretching out to brush along the base of my dick. A pulse of arousal bounded down my spine and skidded across the backs of my legs. “I really don’t mind.”
“I do.” Letting a boyfriend see to my needs alone was usually very welcome, yet the idea of Toshinori putting me first like that when he himself wasn’t going to join in made me distinctly uncomfortable for some reason. And truthfully, we’d had enough sex the past ten days to tide me over for the rest of the month. It just felt so damn good when our bodies joined in any and all configurations; it was hard to not crave it again and again.
“Ah.” The hand withdrew immediately, retreating back to my hip, as if he thought he was crossing some inappropriate line with intimate touches this morning. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s fine.” I sighed. “If you’re not in the mood, or up for anything or whatever, you don’t have to worry about me. I don’t expect you to be so selfless all the time.” Quite the opposite, in fact.
“Taking care of my boyfriend’s needs hardly feels selfless. It’s not like I won’t enjoy myself making sure you’re enjoying yourself.”
“It’s better if everyone’s enjoying themselves equally.” I carefully slid my arm up the gnarled bumps of his scarred side and shoved it under his shoulder to tug myself closer. He held me tighter in return, with the arm on my waist and the other cradling mine across his chest. “Really. It’s fine.”
“Alright then.”
His breaths were even but his heart seemed to be beating a little faster. It wasn’t quick, not by any stretch of imagination, yet it wasn’t the smooth cadence of someone relaxing in bed like it had been before. I listened to it for enough beats to measure a couple minutes. When it refused to calm back down to what it was before we talked, I knew I had to ask:
“What is it?”
“What is what?”
“You’ve got something on you mind.”
He laughed lightly. “How can you tell?”
“I can hear your wheels turning.”
“I didn’t realize I was such a loud thinker!”
“You are. What’s on your mind?”
“I- ah. Hm.” The hand on my hip caressed slowly. “Frankly, I’m not sure how to phrase it without you getting annoyed at me.”
So it was going to be one of those conversations. First my rambling thoughts and now this. So much for easing into the day. “You can try just saying it and let me decide if it annoys me or not.”
“Fair enough.” The hand stopped moving. He cleared his throat and there was wet rattling high in his chest. “One of the things I appreciate most about you is how pragmatic you are. I’m sure you considered pretty much everything about our relationship before anything even happened between us. But it was on me to fill you in about the aspects you couldn’t be aware of, and deserved to have a say in. Then when things moved faster than I expected - which has been wonderful, don’t get me wrong! - I kept getting caught up in the moment, and while we’ve been so, ah, busy with each other, I tricked myself into thinking I could put it off for another day. Now it seems today is that other day.”
He sighed, and the worrisome rattling was a little louder. “The thing is, it’s been a conveniently good couple of weeks for me, health-wise. I’m not always so, uh, physically capable; an unfortunate side effect of the surgeries. I can usually feel the bad days coming on, and it doesn’t happen often, mind you. A few times a year, maybe? But I’m afraid at my age it’s not likely to get better.” His hand started rubbing my hip again. “I guess I’m worried about disappointing you, if you expected this relationship to stay how it’s been. In the bedroom, anyway. And everywhere else we’ve ended up in the heat of the moment.” His flat chuckle petered off quickly. “It should have been a conversation before I asked you out, in case my health issues were more than you wanted to sign up for - or less, as it were. Or in case our age difference was greater than you’re comfortable with in the long run. It might not matter now, but you could change your mind about that sooner rather than later.”
“Your instinct was right. I am annoyed.” I adjusted my head to clear some of the hair from under my face. “But you’ve got a point. We should have talked about it first so I could tell you I couldn’t care less.”
His tone warmed. “Oh yeah?”
“You debriefed us about your health when you joined UA. I expected significant side effects would be a part of your life. It doesn’t matter to me what they are in terms of how they might affect our relationship, only how they impact you. As for your age-” I paused. “Actually, I don’t know how old you are, but I don’t care. It’s no big secret you’re older than me, considering you were out demolishing villains when I was first figuring out the extent of my Quirk. However many candles you put on your birthday cake is irrelevant to me, or how many more birthdays either of us have left. I’m with you now, and right now is all that matters.”
“Even if right now is the best I’ll be, and from here on out it’s all downhill?”
I scowled despite him not being able to see it. “What exactly are you basing that assertion on?”
“It’s just how aging works, Shouta,” he said with a laugh.
“Downhill is a matter of perspective, Toshinori. And we do have some power to control the decline if we take care of ourselves. Diet and exercise and all that.”
“Are you saying I don’t take care of myself?”
“Do you?”
“Sometimes!” He laughed again. “I keep pretty busy between hero work and-“ he hesitated. “-and just keeping up with things, I guess.” ‘Things’ being whatever it was he filled his days with as a Number One Hero on his way out of the industry. “You should cut me some slack! I can’t exactly eat any better than I do, and it’s difficult to do any sort of proper workout when I'm down a couple vital organs.”
“Hm. Maybe strenuous exercise is out of the question but you can at least do some low-impact stuff. It’d be better than nothing.” I pushed my leg over his as I stretched out. “And activating your Quirk to do it is cheating, before you try and claim that counts. The last thing All Might needs is to do any more pushups.”
His laugh turned to a guffaw and in an instant, the spindly form under me became a solid mass of muscles. I was drawn to lie fully on top of him, stomach to stomach. Or rather, stomach to abs the size of bread loaves.
“That, I do not!” He grinned.
I glared down at the ridiculously handsome man I never thought I’d be in bed with, let alone having a relationship talk with; not before two weeks ago, anyway. “Don’t distract from my lecture.”
In another instant, the muscles were gone and the sinewy ridges were back, digging into me. His still handsome face retained the cheeky grin. “Sorry, Mister Aizawa, sir.”
If it was hot or irritating to have him address me like I was his teacher, I wasn’t sure. While still lying along him, I shifted to make sure I wasn’t crushing him, sliding my knees to the outside of his legs so most of my weight was settled on his hips and not his abdomen. “Age is just a number, and I don’t date men based on how convenient their health is. And if you’re worried about letting me down because we don’t have sex every single day, you’ll be happy to know I don’t actually need fifteen orgasms a week to get by.”
Taut muscles under me tensed as his chortling shook us both. “You could have fooled me! You’ve been surprisingly insatiable!”
“Yeah, well. It was a very dry spell broken by a very accommodating partner. And you haven’t exactly been falling behind, either.” I rested my chin on my hands, one laid atop the other on his chest. The complementary curve of our bellies fit perfectly to one another’s. “I will enjoy as much as you’re able to give, but only as often as you’re able to give it. And if you’re not up for anything, then nothing has to happen. It won’t ever be a problem. Sex with you is great but it’s not everything.” It only took a moment to decide if I should offer more reassurance, like a good partner would. “I liked you before we started taking our clothes off.”
He gasped in faux shock. “Are you saying you actually like me for me?” Well-established laugh lines creased his eyes as he poked fun at my admission.
“Tch. When you’re not being stupid, sure.” With a small push, I heaved myself up to sit, straddling his lap. I raked my mussed up hair from my face with a sigh. Toshinori had a conflicted look that bordered close to upset. Because of what I said? “What, too rude?”
He shook his head, ruffling up his bedhead even worse than it already was, which somehow made him all the more attractive. “No, it’s-” His hands ran up the tops of my thighs before taking hold of my hips. “The way you look right now, you’re so-“ He sighed heavily, as if in defeat. “I wish I could give you what you want this morning.”
“Who says you haven’t?” I laid my hands over his.
His look turned skeptical. “You wanted a relationship talk first thing in the morning? You. Aizawa Shouta. Wanted to talk. Instead of sleeping in.”
“If you weren’t busy being so sarcastic, I might have said I wanted to spend time with you, but now that you went and opened your mouth, I take it back.” I dropped my hands from his but he snatched them up, enmeshing our fingers.
“Can’t take back what you haven’t actually said!” He gloated. “And now I know you’re thinking it. And it’s very sweet.”
“Shut up.”
“You keep saying that, and I’ve yet to believe you mean it.”
“Oh, I do.”
His smile widened. “Do not.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be a pest.”
“Not trying to be. Just stating facts you don’t like. How sweet you are, for example.” His fingers curled tighter to pull me in for kiss, drawing our hands to the pillow on either side of his head. It was a pretty big concession on his part, considering his great dislike of morning breath. The man had impeccable oral hygiene.
“I like facts. I don’t like biases,” I said, blinking at him from under the chaotic fall of my hair. And being considered sweet was definitely biased. And less than accurate.
“Color me surprised,” he deadpanned, expression bemused. “Okay. I’m going to annoy you some more but I just want to make sure.” He searched my eyes intently; his hands in mine tightened a little. “Me being over twenty years your senior really doesn’t bother you?”
I shook my head. “Not unless you’re going to keep asking me if it does. Does it bother you?”
"Not at all!" His laugh sounded relieved. “We'll consider the matter concluded, then!”
His word was worth its weight in gold yet I was dubious he’d stop dwelling on it. It would be just like him to hide an insecurity like that if he thought it was for my benefit.
“I like you, Toshinori. I forget to say stuff like that, but I do. I never forget to say stuff that bothers me, though, so you can trust that if anything you do, or don’t do, or just are, becomes an issue for me, you’ll know.” And I’d likely have to apologize for how blunt I said it if or when it did.
“I’ll do my utmost to keep it in mind.” He smiled up at me, eyes practically glowing in the muted light. “I like you too, you know.”
“I know. You’re appallingly transparent for a billboard-ranked hero who successfully kept their identity a secret for so long.”
A bright peel of laughter quickly shattered into a coughing fit. I sat up, to give him room. Toshinori got himself up on an elbow and brought a hand to his mouth to catch the blood escaping his lips in ribbons. He sucked in more air only to expel it immediately in shuddering bursts. Shit. I still wasn’t used to this particular visceral side effect of his condition. Even though the sight of blood didn’t unnerve me, knowing the reason behind the source of it gave me a sick feeling in my gut.
I removed myself from Toshinori’s lap and scooped an arm behind his shoulders to help him sit up the rest of the way. His fist was coated in bright scarlet. I rubbed between his shoulder blades, wondering if patting would help or hinder his body trying to clear his airway.
“What can I do?” I asked, knowing it was a pointless question both in principle and because he wouldn’t be able to answer, but I wasn’t well versed in how I could help in this kind of situation yet.
He shook his head as a sharp hitch in his breath was followed by the sticky sound of something thick coming up with the next cough. A quaking hand gestured to the nightstand. I opened the top drawer to find what he was asking for, shoving aside the lube, a crumpled box of condoms, a random assortment of pill bottles, before finally finding a handkerchief folded up beneath everything else. He really should keep these closer at hand. And definitely more than one of them.
I passed it to him and he accepted it with a grateful nod, replacing his hand with the cloth and letting himself cough more deeply. My chest ached in sympathy. After a harsh crack from his throat, what appeared to be a blood clot was spat out, and the cough slowed. Good. Toshinori’s coughing episodes were frequent enough but they didn’t always produce so much blood. It was unsettling. And worrying.
He was still holding his red stained hand aloft, cupped to keep the mess from dripping onto him or the bedding. A single handkerchief really wasn’t going to cut it. I got up, touching his shoulder in a silent promise to return momentarily.
From the bathroom, I retrieved one of the older towels I figured he wouldn’t mind getting bloodied. Back in the bedroom, the coughing had dwindled to recovery breaths with interruptions for some desperate throat clearing. I wrapped the towel under his shaking hand and used it to gather up the mess he was holding, which had started leaking down his wrist.
“Thank you,” he rasped gratefully. His breath smelled strongly of iron.
Why thank me? Like I’d sit by and let him contend with this on his own? My huff was incredulous. I watched as he used the cleaner parts of the handkerchief to wipe his chin. It only smeared the mess around.
“You okay now?”
He nodded with a jerky inhale, followed by a shaky exhale. “Yeah.” His voice was raw. “I’ll get these to the washer-” He moved like he intended to get up.
“Stay,” I commanded firmly. He slouched down again, face taken aback at my tone, which admittedly might have been too harsh.
I took the handkerchief from him and wadded it up with the towel. After dropping them in the washing machine, I grabbed a glass of water and a few dampened paper towels from the kitchen.
“Here.” I thrust the glass into his hand first, which he accepted with an owlish blink and sipped at dutifully. When he’d had enough, I exchanged it for the paper towels. A moment passed before he took them.
“Thanks,” he murmured, voice smoother now, as he wiped his face and mouth before working on his hand. “Very thoughtful.”
I snorted derisively as I turned off the alarm clock now that it really wasn’t necessary. “I’d argue it’s the bare minimum.”
“Maybe. I don’t have much frame of reference for what the bare minimum is.” He looked up at me while swiping the paper towels between his fingers. His expression was soft with gratitude. “It’s still a little new for me to be the one who’s taken care of so thoroughly.”
An eyebrow pushed up my forehead. I was hardly a shining example of a conscientious caretaker. And no one would ever claim I had a good bedside manner. “I don’t think that’s as much of a compliment as you think it is.” I perched on the edge of the bed, looking at him looking at me. He was still flushed from the exertion of coughing. “It’s kind of sad, actually.”
He shrugged. “I’m almost always the one taking care of others, partners included. It’s how it’s always been.”
“I doubt anyone ever considered the Number One Hero might need a hand with anything, I’ll give you that. But at least with your injury, someone had to be around to help during the recovery, right? After the surgeries?”
“For a time.” His one-sided smile was more sad than humored. “You might be surprised at the lack of friends I’ve managed to hold on to over the years.”
Hardly. Too many colleagues had given up so much of their personal lives to not assume the busiest, hardest working hero among us had given his up entirely. It didn’t mean it still wasn’t one of the saddest realizations to dawn on me: All Might was loved by all, and Toshinori was the kindest and most considerate man I’d ever met, yet through choice and circumstance, he was probably the loneliest person I knew.
“Really is lonely at the top, huh?”
“A little. But it was worth the sacrifice. I wouldn’t have traded any of it for something as selfish as friends.”
The casual way he said something so utterly tragic stung a part of my heart I didn't expect, considering I myself had actively sought to maintain the minimal friendships required to get through life in one piece. “Well, rest assured you’ll make plenty of friends working at UA, whether you want them or not. They’re a persistent bunch. And nosy. And half of them are too loud.” One of them in particular was loud enough to compensate for the rest. “But they’re loyal. And not awful company. I’m told they’re fun too, but I never paid much attention.”
“As rave a review as I’d expect,” he chuckled. “I haven’t even officially started yet and everyone has been so great. Some, more than others.” The suggestive lift of his brow in my direction was entirely unnecessary. At least his health issues didn’t put a damper on his humor. “I definitely don’t feel as lonely as I used to.”
“Good.” I nodded. “If there’s anyone out there who deserves friends, it’s you.”
“What a lovely thing for you to say! First the caretaking and now a proper pep talk!” Toshinori laughed but it was weak, and I wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t mocking me a little. I shifted uncomfortably and averted my gaze, feeling out of my depth in this type of heartfelt exchange I was unused to providing for someone else. He reached out and took one of my hands. “Oh, I wasn’t making fun! You did good, Shouta. Thank you.”
It should maybe concern me he could read me so well already. I lifted a shoulder in a dismissive shrug.
“You’re not used to being the one to take care of others like this, are you?” He asked kindly.
I scoffed. “Not exactly the nurturing type.”
“Could have fooled me.” He lifted my hand and kissed the back of my fingers. “Don’t worry. I don’t need to be tended to like an invalid. I’ve figured out how to get by without being a burden.”
He surely meant it as a reassurance I wouldn’t have to be the supportive ballast for the both of us when he was afflicted with coughing fits like the one he just had, but it sounded like he was absolving me of any responsibility as his boyfriend to care for him when he needed it most. The thought sat sour in the back of my throat. “You don’t have to get by on your own now, though. If you need anything, just say so.”
“Oh, sure, of course!” He agreed readily. “I just don’t want to be a hassle, and I know you don’t want to feel like you’re some kind of nursemaid with benefits.” He clearly amused himself with the description of such a role yet it didn’t quite hit the mark with me.
Snorting, I said, “Selfless in work and in private. Figures.”
“You could say it’s in my DNA. I'm happiest only after I've made sure everyone else is taken care of first; doubly so for a partner I happen to be quite enamored with.” He tempered back the levity. “And who’s to say I’m not selfish? To be the primary source of someone’s happiness is very rewarding. And there's nothing quite like being the sole provider of someone else’s pleasure. It’s all a matter of perspective, right?” His tone called back to my comment earlier about taking care of his health. A lot of life was about perspective; it seemed both of us needed the occasional reminder.
“Sometimes, I guess.” It felt difficult to meet his gaze for some reason, so I didn’t try. I stared at our hands, at our collection of hard callouses and silvery scars. “You're not the only one who wants their partner to be happy. If I ever don’t do enough for you, let me know. ”
“You do more than you think,” he assured me.
I scoffed. “And your opinion is skewed.”
“By...?”
Oh so much. First and foremost: “The glossy veneer of a new relationship covering up the little flaws that will become big problems later. You see shortcomings as eccentric personality traits instead of the potentially hurtful faults they are.”
“Oh, do I?” His tone was amused. “Is this an intervention now? To protect me from myself; from being with you?”
His stupid contagious smile nearly caught on, but I meant every word I was saying, and I needed him to hear it. For his own sake. “Maybe it should be. Seeing the best in people is fine as long as you don’t ignore the parts of them that can harm you.” I exhaled loudly. “You said yourself you don’t have a frame of reference for this. Well, neither do I. Just don’t let me take you for granted, okay?”
“Because of your horrible, glaring faults I’m apparently willfully ignorant of and will fall victim to one day?” He asked blithely. When I ventured to meet his gaze, it was brimming with compassion. “Really, Shouta. I think you’re the one blind to your own virtues. What makes you think you’ll take me for granted? Where is all this coming from?”
“My track record. I’ve got a list of exes who will say I’m unappreciative and chronically apathetic.”
“Do you think maybe it’s because they wanted you to be someone you’re not? Or perhaps expected too much from you?”
Expected too much? Or simply for me to meet them halfway? “I wouldn’t know. Apparently I wasn’t paying enough attention to them in the first place, so how would I know when I fell short of their expectations?”
He hummed thoughtfully and nodded. “We can’t ever fully know what someone else is thinking or feeling, not unless they tell us.” His thumb rubbed against mine. “How about this? Since you prefer upfront communication, the very second I feel like you’re taking advantage of me, or neglecting me in any way, I’ll let you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “No you won’t.” How could he possibly know if he was being self-sacrificing if it felt natural for him to always get the short end of the stick?
“What if I cross my heart?”
My glower hopefully conveyed how unconvincing that sounded.
“Okay, okay!” He laughed. “How about a good old fashioned promise, then? And if you don’t believe me, believe that I know it would make you happy for me to do as you ask, and you know how I feel about making my partner happy.”
Touché. “Using logic to manipulate me. Smart.”
“I’m not just a pretty face!” He snickered and kissed my hand one more time. “And neither are you.”
He really was relentless with the compliments. “Didn’t I already tell you flattery doesn’t work on me?”
“You did! Three times now! Doesn’t mean I have to stop.”
“Doubt I could stop you if I wanted to.”
“Oh ho! If you wanted to, huh?” He asked, grin smarmy.
I chose to ignore him calling me out, save for one last eye roll. “We need to get going on today or we’ll get behind before we even start.” There was still time for a quick workout but I had a better idea forming. “I’m going to do some yoga before my shower. Feel up to joining me?”
As expected, he picked up on my ploy immediately. “So you can help me start controlling that inevitable decline of mine? That’s not very apathetic of you, Shouta.” And of course he couldn’t resist calling me out yet again. The covers were tossed back and he scooted himself over to sit next to me. His gaze traveled over my face, lingering on my mouth before landing on my eyes. “Sure. If it’ll make you happy.”
“It would.” Very much.
The smile he gave me shone brighter than the sunrise warming the world outside. He leaned in to kiss my forehead, and it felt like a vow. “Then I’ll be very happy to join you.”