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The first song was soft. Crouching in front of an incredibly decrepit radio, Suga’s right hand fiddled with the channel knob, while his other maneuvered the antenna in erratic circles (were antennas still even a thing? No. Definitely not). Only for split seconds does he manage to catch some stations in focus, but it turns back into noisy static just as quickly. He quits after the third round. The only clear station was the first one, so he leaves it alone.
In front of the refrigerator he pulls out ingredients— milk, Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix—and sets it out on the counter.
In between pouring the mix into a measuring cup and dumping it into a large bowl, Suga’s head bobs to the beat of the song. He catches himself, right before he began humming. The song was sickeningly sweet and the lyrics sounded like they were written by a love stricken preteen. It was gross. He hums anyway.
Above him, the air conditioning whirs on. It was loud and a bit deafening, but even more than that, it was freezing. Suga forgets what a health nut Daichi is, and how he thinks the cold ‘wards off illnesses’ (‘You know what wards off illnesses,’ Suga tells him one day. ‘Catching them’). Suga shivered violently in his boxer shorts and worn out shirt.
He makes his way back to the bedroom, where Daichi’s large sleeping form has taken up most of the mattress. Making little noise, Suga moves around the bed. He reaches for the dresser and pulls on the drawer he knows Daichi keeps his sweat pants in. The soft material slips over his legs with a little too much ease and room so he tightens the drawstring around the waistband. He’s doing this while walking back to the door and doesn’t take into account the idle volleyball laying in his path. Before he can process something other than his foot touching a round and cold surface, Suga falls backwards.
“W-Wh—, “he stammers, and lands hard onto his butt. He sucks in a large amount of air and lets it out slowly. Suga sits there awhile, collecting his bearings and letting the pain ride out of his system. When it passes, he stands up carefully and peaks at Daichi through the corner of his eyes, then sighs in relief to see him in the same position.
Quickly, he walks to the kitchen. He sets the first pancake to make and is about to flip it when footsteps plod heavily into the room.
Slow dawdling fingers circle Suga’s slim and pale waist. The warmth they gave off melts through the thin fabric and almost burns his skin.
“Good morning” Suga said, forcing his attention back to the frying batter. A head rests on his shoulder as those knobby hands extend into arms, encircling his abdomen.
Daichi’s breath tickled his ear as he replied in a scratchy voice,” Mornin’”. The weight of his body keeps Suga anchored to the spot. In this immovable position, he realizes he could hardly reach the shelf for plates. He wiggles his waist, to create space for him to move. Daichi doesn’t notice (or care), and Suga begins to worry; after flipping the pancake over, he sees some charred bits around the edges.
If it burns, he thinks, Daichi is definitely eating it.
Daichi, unaware of his soon-to-be fate, only snuggles closer to Suga’s warm body. The air conditioning hasn’t turned off yet, and he couldn’t find his last pair of clean sweat pants after waking up.
Suga places a hand on the forearm resting on his torso. It was his way of signaling to let go, but he stayed trapped in those large biceps.
“Daichi” He finally said.
Daichi hummed in response.
“… Kinda need you to let go,” his voice is airy and unassertive. In his head, Suga was losing a battle with the rational part of his brain.
Daichi hummed louder, this time to acknowledge Suga. He loosens his grip, freeing Suga to grab a plate. As he picks two off the shelf, he set it next to the stove and moved the pancake on top of it. He poured more batter into the stove, wary of the pops and cackles.
Suga thinks about how much he should make for the both of them, and Daichi, leaning against the counter off to the side, tugs at his shirt until Suga is enveloped in his arms again. Daichi nuzzles his head in the crook of his neck. He feels Suga’s bed hair tickle the side of face, and he knows his own unshaven facial hairs do the same to Suga because he winces when Daichi rubbed his face against him. He mumbles a lazy apology.
The tune changed on the radio. It was the same easy-going rhythm, but slower.
“I didn’t know you liked this kind of music,” Daichi finally voiced, his voice thick and rough around the edges. He was suddenly grateful his head was on Suga’s shoulder, because he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet.
“I don’t hate it. Every other station was just out of focus,” Suga shrugs. One of Daichi’s hand began intertwining with his.
“Yeah” he sighed,” that radios really old. And living out in the country doesn’t exactly help either.”
Everything in Daichi’s house was a bit outdated. The stove in the kitchen still ran on gas, all the rooms had Shoji doors, and Suga remembered Daichi had a tatami mat until their second year of high school. Suga’s house was like that too, though, so he figures it’s just a country thing.
Remembering the pancake, Suga rushed out of Daichi’s arms, who hadn’t been paying attention to his loosening grip.
“Thank god” Suga muttered, when he realized the pancake was still edible. He let it sit on its other side, and decided he should shorten the flame so he doesn’t burn anything.
Daichi glues himself back to Suga’s body.
“You’re very affectionate today.”
“It’s just cold,” Daichi says, although he sounds flustered.
Suga laughs. “Shouldn’t you just turn the air conditioning down?”
“Yeah… But I like this better”
Suga ducks his head and smiles. Daichi’s affection reminded him of a dog. A big, fluffy dog with separation anxiety. Suga felt his stomach flutter with a warm feeling as Daichi tightens his grip. The air conditioning, he notices, has turned off. But whether his face was hot from that or Daichi’s shared body warmth, he wouldn’t know.
His ears tune into the music playing then, and listens as the lyrics to the song only just begin. The English lyrics, he realizes. He manages to catch a few words, but the rest escapes his knowledge.
Daichi was more into foreign bands than Suga. Suga liked them, but he usually couldn’t understand the lyrics and that annoyed him. Not to mention it reminded him of all the studying he had to do for English Class, definitely not something he enjoyed thinking about during his down time.
“You’re into foreign music, right?” he inquired, looking over his shoulder.
“Uh, yeah,” Daichi sounded like he was dozing off just now. Why did he bother getting up in the first place?
“What about it?”
“Do you know this song?”
There was a silent moment as Daichi listened to the song intently.
He lifted his head suddenly.
“I do!” He smiled toothlessly, nuzzling his head further into Suga’s shoulder. “It’s old, so you might not know it.”
“What’s it called?”
Suga flips the pancake onto the plate. He grabs the bowl of batter and pours some into the pan. The steam rising up from it licks his cheeks, and droplets of sweat uncomfortably form on his brow.
“Pictures of You. Why, you into it?”
Suga shrugged nonchalantly, using the back of his wrist to wipe off sweat.
“Yeah, it’s pretty.”
Daichi began humming the lyrics into his ear, swaying both of their bodies to the rhythm. The song wasn’t a favorite of Daichi’s, but he didn’t hate it either—after all, he paid Itunes to have it on his Ipod. But the surprise of hearing a song usually only heard through his own headphones made him excited. Unable to help himself, he parted his lips—and sang.
It started soft, but with each passing verse his voice gained more traction.
“Shut up already!” Suga joked, grinning to himself. “You cannot sing.”
Daichi only sang louder, pulling their bodies until no visible space between them was left. Suga stopped holding back his laughter, and allowed his body to shake as he struggled to catch his breath. Hearing his boyfriend laugh made Daichi sing even more boisterously out of tune.
“LOOKING SO LONG…,” his voice echoed throughout the house, each terribly carried note giving away the smile in his voice. “…AT THESE PICTURES OF YOU.”
Suga was bent over the stove, hands gripping Daichi’s arms to try to contain the pain in his stomach, giggles erupting over his tongue. He was absolutely wheezing. Suddenly, he felt Daichi loosen his grip and grapple onto Suga’s thin wrist. He spun him around, eyes closed and mouth opened wide as he continued to sing.
“Dance with me!” Daichi suggested in between verses. Their hands were intertwined at their sides, both of them chest to chest. Suga raised an eyebrow.
“Now? This isn’t a romantic comedy.”
Daichi brushed his comment aside, widening his eyes and raising his brow.
“Dance with me” He whined, drawing the words out slower. He moved their hands up and down slowly, impatiently, stretching out his fingers, enclosing them around Suga’s knuckles again.
“Do you even know how to dance, because I don’t”
Then Daichi jutted his bottom lip out pleadingly. Yeah, the whole ‘my boyfriend is as affectionate as a puppy’ is cute up to a point.
“The songs gonna end soon,” Daichi reminded him. He lips were right beside Suga’s ear now.
Suga sighed, placing his forehead on Daichi’s chest.
“Sure,” He resigned. But while he attempted concealed his beaming expression away from Daichi, Daichi heard it anyway.
Suga slid his hand from his boyfriends grip and traveled up his arm softly. He stopped at his bicep, where he spread and pressed his palm intimately against his skin. Daichi followed him by placing his hands at Sugas waist. Suga lifted his head, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous he felt.
But Daichi seemed unfazed by this, as he led the both around the room in exaggerated steps. He still sang the song in a terribly booming voice. Suga struggled to keep up with him, but whenever he felt himself slipping, Daichi’s hands would squeeze his hips. Suga couldn’t help it anymore—he burst out into a fit giggles. Daichi grinned, spinning them quickly. At some point, they ignored the music behind them, dancing unorthodoxly without any sort of rhythm.
Daichi dipped Suga randomly, surprising him. When he looked down, Suga’s smile was so wide and bright he lost his breath, his heart palpitating erratically in his chest as he tried to keep his own face more or less composed.
“There was nothing in the world, that I’ve ever wanted more…” Daichi found his voice getting lower and lower and Suga had his eyes closed, so he didn’t see Daichi’s apple-tinted cheeks.
The fire alarm screeched throughout the house. Both boys were shaken, looking up to find the source of the noise. Daichi loosened his grip in his shock, causing an equally shock Suga to fall to the ground for the second time that day.
Daichi only noticed a moment later. He recovered quickly to help him up, extending an arm out to him.
“I’m so sorry” he apologized sincerely, as Suga settled back on the soles of his feet.
Meanwhile, Suga rubbed his severely bruised bottom and turned a head to look at the stove. The previously cooking pancake was covered in a fog of gray smoke. Running over to it, he turned off the stove quickly, and began searching for a towel. Rushing back to the charcoal pancake, he placed it over the pan. Daichi had leaned over the radio to the window, opening it to ventilate the house. Suga covered his mouth, flapping a hand in front of his face to ward off the fumes. His coughs worried Daichi.
He walked over to where he was hunched over, rubbing his back and creasing his eyebrows.
“Are you ok?” he asked. “You want water?”
Suga, unable to speak, signaled with a thumbs up. His eyes, like Daichi’s, were a bit wet from the smoke, and he rubbed his eyes.
Daichi snorted. It was probably inappropriate, but being like this with his boyfriend, all lovey-dovey so early in the morning (in fact, so lovey-dovey, they almost set his kitchen on fire), made him inexplicably blithe and whimsical. His shoulders shook, and he used both hands to cover his face. Soon the snorts turned into giggles, and then louder giggles, until he full-on laughed.
Suga stared at him, perplexed for a few seconds. He was still waiting on that cup of water. But watching Daichi laugh was contagious. Small chortles erupted out of him, and then he was laughing alongside Daichi. The muscles in his stomach pinched in pain, so he doubles over while wrapping both arms around his torso. Daichi’s hands have moved away from his face and held onto the counter for support. When they think they’re about stop, they would glance at each other, and start laughing all over again.
Suga, at some point, slips on the tile floor. Instead of picking himself back up, he lays there. His laughter dwindles into baby chuckles. Daichi has sat on the ground in front of him, head against the cabinet. His laughter was diminished as well, but he was still smiling so wide his eyes were closed.
I’m falling a lot today, Suga thinks, wiping a few tears away. But when he sneaks a look at the bright grin in front of him, he muses that if this is falling, then he must be belly-flopping into the ocean for Daichi.