Chapter Text
Whenever Sajou thought about Kusakabe, his world was bathed in pink. It was the blooming shade of the inside of cherry blossom petals and the evening breeze that carried them. His skin mimicked the colour with the blushing in his cheeks every time a thought of him passed. Kusakabe was springtime, and Sajou’s heart flowered in his glow without ever having to see him.
The same pink overcame him as Sajou leaned over and lined his shoes up against the wall. Kusakabe would arrive soon, and unlike his last trip to Kyoto, Sajou remembered that he was coming this time. He convinced himself that he had to make up for being an overwhelmed mess the first time and spent the whole day tidying the house in anticipation.
Whenever Sajou thought of Kusakabe, he overthought just about everything else. From the way his arms fell against his sides to how well he could see through his glasses, Sajou wondered if everything he was doing was okay. Were the pillows fluffed enough? Was the futon comfortable?
Before he could determine the best position for his arms, the doorbell rang. Without thinking, Sajou immediately slid open the door.
Every thought in his mind melted into the spring that met his eyes. Neither of them said anything. There was a moment where all Sajou could do was look at Kusakabe, making contact with his pupils that shifted with excited shades and letting everything be still. When Kusakabe finally moved, it was slow. He slipped his shoes off and shuffled them against the wall to match Sajou’s and then looked back up. Holding out his arms wide, Kusakabe’s lips pursed into a half-smile, half-pout, and gazed at Sajou with expectancy.
Sajou looked at Kusakabe’s arms for a moment before realizing what he was asking for. Blood rushed to his face, every line on his skin crinkling in embarrassment. But Kusakabe was home, and he really, really wanted to touch him, hold him again. So Sajou inched forward on his socks, falling into Kusakabe’s chest and bringing his arms around the boy’s waist.
It was then that Sajou remembered how well he fit in Kusakabe’s arms. He had forgotten this feeling, this comfort, never longing for it but feeling the weight of its absence, and now that this feeling was his again, he was so happy he could barely breathe. A smile wriggled its way onto his lips underneath the heat of Kusakabe’s torso. He felt Kusakabe push his lips to his scalp and tightened his grip.
“I’m home.” Kusakabe murmured into Sajou’s hair.
Sajou breathed in response. “Welcome back.”
The next thing Sajou felt was a familiar warmth on his lips. Mouth moving on its own, he relaxed into the kiss as their tongues moved around each other. Every time their lips touched again, the heat summer flooded his chest. Kusakabe’s hands moved against the small of his back, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Sajou’s fingers followed, brushing against the disheveled strands on Kusakabe’s nape.
Their breath separated them, air between them hot as Sajou pulled away. He slid his hands down to Kusakabe’s chest and ruffled the zipper of his jacket. “You can hang up your coat on the rack.”
“Ah, okay,” Kusakabe replied with a smile and slipped the covering off his shoulders.
“Are you hungry?” Sajou asked, stepping up from the entryway. “I learned how to make yakisoba, so if you’d like…”
“Yes,” Kusakabe said immediately, eyes lighting up.
The aroma of cooked vegetables and scrambled egg filled the house, steam dancing from the pan. “You really did learn how to cook,” Kusakabe remarked as Sajou tossed the noodles with his chopsticks.
“What?” Sajou looked up at him.
“No, it’s just that last time you said you’d like to learn how to.”
Sajou looked down at the pan. “Oh, that,” he said. “I guess I did.” A smile fell onto his lips as he thought of Kusakabe’s last visit and the creeping jealousy that motivated him to say it in the first place. He hoped that his dinner was better than undercooked hamburger.
Kusakabe wrapped his arms around Sajou’s waist, leaning his head on the man’s shoulder. “Smells good.”
Gazing at him out of the corner of his eye, Sajou rested the chopsticks on the edge of the pan. His cheeks tinted pink at the sight of him. Overcome by the desire to return his touch, Sajou planted a kiss on Kusakabe’s cheek. “I hope you like it.”
A flustered Kusakabe buried his face deeper into the crook of Sajou’s neck. “Anything you make is delicious.”
And just as he said, the moment the noodles touched Kusakabe’s taste buds, he flung himself onto the table.
“So good!” He closed his eyes and rubbed at his cheeks.
Sajou laughed. “I’m glad.” He hoped that had he known about this when Kusakabe first visited, the envy over a gratin recipe would disappear. The yakisoba wasn’t anything special, but because it was Kusakabe, even Sajou found the noodles more flavourful.
Floor creaking under his feet, Sajou bent over the futons and adjusted the sheets. “Ready for bed?” A voice behind him asked.
“Mm,” Sajou replied, turning around to Kusakabe already dressed in pajamas. They snuggled under the covers and turned out the lights, moonlight peering through the large window outside.
Without saying anything, Sajou’s eyes flitted to meet Kusakabe’s. He rolled over on his side and felt the space between them shorten.
“I missed you,” Kusakabe breathed. Goosebumps rose on Sajou’s skin as the man’s fingers brushed against his neck.
A long exhale trailed from Sajou’s lips. “Me too.” Face going hot, he slipped his hands underneath Kusakabe’s shirt. His lover had no desire to resist, trailing Sajou’s chest with cold fingers under the fabric.
Under that pale moonlight, the space between Sajou and Kusakabe completely disappeared, their love laid bare to a Kyoto home where they reunited with the same feeling. Sajou felt spring blooming in this feeling, never wanting the beginning to end. It was nights like these that brought their love alive.
Sunlight poked red shades into Sajou’s eyes, forcing his eyelids open. He met the ceiling panels and the warm breeze that softened his bare skin. Most of all, though, he craned his head to the side and met a sleeping Kusakabe, gold strands shining in the morning light. Sajou’s fingers found their way to his hair, massaging into his scalp and taking in all the beauty of his skin.
“Good morning,” Sajou whispered. He brushed a piece of Kusakabe’s hair to the side and traced the lines on his face with his thumb. He followed the curving shape, from the man’s temples to his cheekbones, down to his jaw and pulling down his bottom lip. Every thought in his mind surrendering to this moment, Sajou leaned over and touched his lips to Kusakabe’s. The contact was short, so sweet and slow it tasted like honey.
Kusakabe’s lips moved under Sajou’s as they parted. “Good morning, Rihito.”
Though he was taken aback, seeing Kusakabe’s smug grin only made Sajou more smitten. His eyelids fell down his eyes as he looked at the man, taking in all his glow.
“Did I wake you?” He asked, fingers still moving on his skin.
“No,” Kusakabe replied through his smile. “I was waiting for you to give me a good morning kiss.”
A grin tugged at the corners of Sajou’s lips, and with summer fervor filling his tightening chest, he found himself pulled back into the warmth of a kiss.
“Ah, I don’t have anything in the fridge for breakfast.” Sajou furrowed his brows at the shelves. Considering he usually ran out the door without breakfast for morning lectures, it didn’t come as a surprise that there was a shortage of decent ingredients in the house.
Kusakabe peered over Sajou’s shoulder. “That’s fine.” He slipped his hand into Sajou’s, lacing their fingers together. “We can go out for breakfast.”
Sajou squeezed at the grip on his hand and bit down a smile. “Then shower properly before we go.”
Fluffy golden hair peeked out from the bathroom, Kusakabe already dressed and eager to leave. Sajou grinned, holding out his hand behind him. His fiancé had no hesitance in rushing toward the door and accepting the gesture.
Two cups of coffee laid out on the breakfast table, one pitch black and the other swimming in milk and sugar. The toast was cut neatly into triangles with butter melting into the cracks, accompanied by scrambled eggs and strips of crisp bacon.
“Oh, that’s right, Rihito.” Eggs nearly fell out of Kusakabe’s mouth as he opened it to speak.
Sajou put down his mug. “Mm?”
“I need to tell you…” A long breath escaped his lips. “I got a record deal.”
Sajou’s eyebrows pulled his eyelids upward and his jaw fell open. “Are you serious?”
Kusakabe nodded. “But… It would take me all the way out to Hokkaido.”
This time, Sajou’s jaw opened a little wider, but the surprise wasn’t joyful. “Hokkaido?”
“I know. It’s far. That’s why-”
“You should go.” Sajou swallowed hard. He didn’t know what he was saying, and he far from meant it. “This means a lot to you, right?” Stop, he kept telling himself, stop it, you don’t mean it.
Kusakabe put rested his piece of toast on the side of his plate. “Oh…okay.”
Those two words were the last things Sajou heard from Kusakabe before he lost the courage to say anything at all.
Ever since that morning, the spring that Kusakabe had brought to bloom in Kyoto began to wilt.