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Tetsurou yawns and stretches, as much as he can while half covered with a clingy boyfriend, and then settles back into the couch with a sigh. Yaku grumbles and sleepily nuzzles his face harder into Tetsurou’s stomach, tightening his arms around his hips. It’s not the most comfortable position, especially with Yaku’s leg thrown over Tetsurou’s own, but after all this time Tetsurou is far more than used to it. He can’t really say anything, anyway, not with the way his feet are half hanging over one arm of the couch, and the way he has his head buried in pillows against the other.
He gazes down at his sleeping boyfriend, wondering how he managed to find someone that fits him so well. They both have their quirks, and they both have difficulties showing their actual emotions sometimes, but even the occasional argument isn’t enough to make Tetsurou think anything different about how well they go together. For a while, in high school, Tetsurou had thought that maybe they couldn’t get along, that maybe they were just too different, complete opposites.
And while Yaku was all fire and sass, and Tetsurou tended toward cool and smooth, it turned out that they matched pretty well. They both worked unendingly hard, were determined to win, and tried their best to pull out the potential of every one of their teammates. Somehow, along the way, with all the working together they had to do, Tetsurou found himself falling in love.
He’d realized it one day after practice, when they’d been talking about a new training regimen, and they’d stepped out of the clubroom at the same time. The sun had been shining brightly, and Yaku had laughed at something Kenma had said about them taking too long. Tetsurou wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not, but it had seemed like Yaku had been glowing just then, and he’d thought that it fit him perfectly. It wasn’t hard at all for him to realize what the flowery thoughts and fluttery feelings meant.
Now, Yaku looks up at him, blinking slowly, trying not to yawn. He squints at Tetsurou, and he’s not sure if it’s him being sleepy, or suspicious. He figures it out pretty quickly when he speaks, voice still rough from sleep. “What’re you staring at me for.”
Tetsurou grins and brushes his fingers through Yaku’s hair, watches him close his eyes and rub his face back against Tetsurou’s stomach. “Just thinking about how weird you are.”
He can feel the huff of laughter and knows that Yaku can tell he’s teasing. “You’re weird.”
“Both?”
Yaku squints up at him again, and then smiles, sleepy but fond. “Both is good.” He presses a kiss to Tetsurou’s skin and sighs, getting comfortable again. “Now stop staring at me and go back to sleep.”
“Kay. Love you, kitten.”
There’s a grumble from Yaku, likely at the nickname, though he doesn’t tell Tetsurou to stop, and that’s how Tetsurou knows he likes it. “Love you too, you pain. Now shush.”
And he listens. They drift back off to sleep, and Tetsurou thinks that everybody is a little weird, it’s just a matter of your weirdness fitting with someone else’s. He knows how lucky he is, and he wouldn’t change it for anything in the world.