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Early sunlight spills in oblique lines, stretching candidly over the room, flooding even the dustiest corners.
Suga wakes slowly, letting the feel of the warm sunrays ease him into wakefulness. He stretches his muscles, feels the fabric of the blanket shift around his limbs, the bed unexplainably comfortable. It isn’t his, but it smells like home all the same.
He lets his eyes open to a room enshrouded in a soft, gleaming golden light and unconsciously reaches with his hand. Creases appear on his face in a slight frown when it doesn’t meet a solid press of another body.
He brings his hands up to his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of the last residual fragments of sleep and turns around. A dip in the mattress and crumpled sheets lay empty beside him.
His cheeks flush pink as he realises why he’s looking for a body next to his in the first place.
He and Daichi have been together for barely a week, and this was their first sleepover together as couple. They’d had countless of sleepovers before, of course, but the novelty of being with each other without the hurdles of uncertainty, of the looming fear of unrequited feelings, had disintegrated the fractious distance they often had put between themselves.
Memories of last night come to him then, the shy hesitancy of them both as they had at last abandoned the spare futon and climbed in Daichi’s bed together, precariously pressed close, tangled hands and legs, timid smiles and blushed cheeks. They had kissed before sleep, tentative at first, but more steady and avid as the room had filled with the translucent tones of moonlight.
Suga gets out of the bed slowly, his bare feet meeting the sun warmed wooden floor.
Still, outside the embrace of covers, it’s not as warm, and goosebumps weave around the length of his arms and legs.
His eyes search the room and land on a sweater hanged over the back of Daichi’s chair. He steps closer, stalls, hesitant, as he lets his fingertips brush the material.
He wills the slight uncertainty to dwindle, reminding himself that this is okay now, and slips it on his frame. Immediately, warmth seeps over him, as the softness of the fabric shifts against his skin and the smell of Daichi’s laundry detergent fills his nostrils.
A shy smile reaches his lips as he swipes around the wisps of his hair that was rendered askew by pulling the hoodie on, and relishes in the opportunity of wearing his boyfriend’s clothes.
He then slips out of the room and paddles towards the kitchen from where he hears the distinct clinking of cutlery and a delicious smell of what he guesses to be pancakes.
When he reaches the threshold, he halts as he spots Daichi working swiftly around the stove.
Something tugs inside Suga’s chest at the sight. He looks so at ease, hair sleep-tousled, wrinkled t-shirt hanging loosely from his frame and the hint of a smile on his lips as he hums something under his breath.
He looks so beautiful like this, Suga thinks.
He still can’t quite believe how he managed to have Daichi like this. To see him at his softest, calmest. Nearly three years of desperate longing, of dreaming of morning just like these. Three years of hopeless attempts of lessening feelings that seemed to only grow in defiance. Of forlorn pretending their fingers brushing or eyes meeting hadn’t meant what it had. Misshapen excuses, butterfingered mistakes, anything, anything to shield the trembling love breaking the confines of his chest. Three years of the painful splinters of a breaking heart, mended with Daichi’s careful, calloused fingertips.
It’s weird, the ambivalence of their relationship now, Suga muses as he continues to loiter by the doorframe, watching Daichi with idle eyes. They’d been friends for so long, so the closeness between them had been set as an innate part of the solid foundation, something so natural it hadn’t been questioned. To Suga Daichi is a steady, comforting presence in his life, and yet the newness of their relationship, of the way they had at last let their feelings for each other spill over and confluent, was taking shape of a different type of hesitancy in place of the last.
It was like their relationship hadn’t changed all that much, yet there was the new addition of purposeful touches, of words of love that can’t any longer be interpreted as platonic, of lips meeting lips as they let go of control and allow their hearts beat in sync unrestricted.
He finds himself getting flustered, at this notion, blushing fast and hot. To know, to share this knowledge that they do in fact both like each other is a relief as it is nerve-racking. He never thought he’d actually have what he so desperately wanted. He doesn’t quite know what’s okay and what’s not, the way relationships work. It is the first for the both of them.
But despite it, he knows they will be okay. Him and Daichi have always been by each other’s side, always had offered unwavering support and held the others hand when they’d stumble. Together, now in more ways than before, they’ll wear in this new path.
And Suga never is one to back down from a challenge, so he crosses the threshold and steps deeper into the kitchen and makes his way over to the stove where Daichi seems to be completely occupied by his task at hand.
He comes to a stop behind Daichi and eases his hands around his strong middle, presses his front against his broad, warm back.
Daichi jumps slightly, but loosens when he looks back over his shoulder and spots Suga.
„Suga. You’re awake! I’m making breakfast for us.”
„I noticed. Smells amazing,” Suga replies as he places his chin on Daichi’s shoulder, feels the strong flex of muscles as he works with the spatula.
He places a tentative kiss on Daichi’s neck, lips lingering on soft skin, and watches as blush creeps across it at the contact. Daichi turns his gaze back to the pancakes with a huff, as if to hide his flustered face.
„Did you come here to distract me?” he mumbles.
„I barely touch you, and you’re already distracted? Captain, the team will fall apart like this.” Suga teases and places several more kisses to his neck, just because he can.
Daichi laughs and seems to blush even deeper. „Menace. You are a menace, Koushi.”
„You signed up for this,” Suga says and pulls himself up on tip toes and places a kiss to Daichi’s cheek.
„Best decision of my life,” Daichi replies, and he sounds undeniably fond.
Suga feels the corners of his lips rise and an overwhelming surge of affection swells in his chest, as he hides his face against Daichi’s back. God, he loves him so much.
Eventually he squeezes Daichi tighter and then lets go. He busies himself with making them some tea and he can’t help but notice, as he grabs mugs from the shelf, just how domestic they already are, or maybe have always been. How comfortable, how easy it is to be with each other.
Once the tea is ready, hot steam coiling into sun-filled air, Suga props himself on the counter and lets himself admire Daichi’s form, strong back and shoulders rendered with tender morning light, something so ethereal it resembles a painting, as he finishes with the pancakes and turns off the stove.
When he is done and turns towards Suga, a plate of pancakes in hand, Suga has already slipped from the counter, and his hands reach fast, with no preamble, to pull Daichi close.
Daichi laughs and mumbles a meager „Kou, the pancakes”, but doesn’t pull away, instead leaning in more, yielding to Suga’s touch so easily, Suga can’t help but melt as well. His hands reach up to cradle Daichi’s face.
It’s warm and soft, the way they kiss. Not yet experienced enough, and the newness of it all hasn’t worn off, so their lips move eager and exploring. Suga sighs and lets the world around them dissipate as he feels Daichi’s hand, the one not holding a plate full of pancakes, come to rest against his hip. He lets his own hand shift further, fingers running through the bristles of Daichi’s hair.
They pull back, slightly breathless, when their smiles interrupt their kiss, so full of happiness, it breaks at the seams and spills over. Their eyes meet and they take in each other’s sun streaked, flushed faces.
Daichi’s forehead creases in thought as he looks at Suga more. „Is that my sweater?”
„Uh yeah, I was cold, sorry I didn’t ask,” Suga mutters, and fumbles with the strings.
„No, no it’s okay! It looks- it looks nice on you,” Daichi rushes out and scratches the nape of his neck.
Suga holds back a laugh at their sudden awkwardness around each other as they cleave their way through unknown waters, a familiar mundanity soaked with crimsoned shyness. It will wear in, Suga can feel, settle like dust on a steady surface, but for now he lets himself enjoy the flutter of nerves, the blushes, the stumbles. He has waited for this long enough.
They eat breakfast in a comfortable silence, the serene morning a comforting weight around their bones. Their hands tangle under the table, almost subconsciously.
---
„What would you like to do today?” Daichi asks when later they make their way back to his room. The sun is now higher in the sky, the golden glow now more muted, but no less warm.
„We could go outside, for a walk, maybe. Check out that new ice cream place you mentioned the other day,” Suga replies.
„Sounds good.”
Suga looks at the bed, and thumbs at the strings of the hoodie again. „But... maybe a bit later? Could we... get back in bed for a bit? You weren’t there when I woke up,” he says, slightly embarrassed at the request.
Daichi’s expression softens as he finds Suga’s eyes and smiles. „Of course.”
They get into bed, shuffling, until they find themselves pressed close, and Suga sighs contently as he feels Daichi’s chest against his cheek and his arms around him.
He hadn’t dared to hope to one day have this, the familiar, strong hands of Daichi, to find home around him, to hold him this close, to feel his steady heartbeat pulse below him. It almost aches, the way the love he feels fills the once painfully broken cavity in his heart.
Daichi’s hand weaves in his hair, fingers softly dancing around and through the locks. Suga closes his eyes, feeling the sun paint his face golden, in strokes as easy as Daichi’s movements.