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"No!" he hears Suga yelp from the kitchen, followed by a clattering cascade of sound.
It's the third such exclamation he's heard in the last fifteen minutes. Daichi sighs and sets down the book he's holding. The bookcase before him is still mostly empty, the middle shelf half-alphabetized by author, but there are more important things that need his attention right now.
"Suga," he calls. "Come here."
"I'm busy," Suga shouts back, the frustration in his voice poorly suppressed. "Do you need something?"
"Yes," Daichi replies, his baritone echoing clearly through the mostly-empty apartment. Every room is stacked full of boxes; they'd just finished dragging the last ones through the front door a few hours ago. "Come here, Suga."
There's a long pause, and Daichi uses the time to shove the boxes in the living room to line the walls, clearing a small space in the center. Finally Suga appears in the doorway, his arms folded. "What is it?" he says, terse. "I want to get the kitchen organized so we can make breakfast tomorrow—what are you doing?"
Daichi has walked over and is gently teasing his hands free from where they're folded tight against his chest. "Come here," he says, taking one step backwards and then another. Suga resists at first and then follows, his shoulders hunched. If he were a bird all his feathers would be ruffled, and Daichi tries not to laugh at the mental image. Suga would take it the wrong way, and that's not how he wants this evening to go.
"Daichi," Suga says, his tone caught somewhere between a warning and a new curiosity.
"It'll only take a second," Daichi reassures him, glancing behind him to make sure he doesn't trip over any of the boxes he missed, until he and Suga are standing together in the center of the cluttered living room. Then Daichi tugs Suga closer, arranging his hands on Daichi's shoulder and hip. The movement brings them flush together and Suga's eyes widen and look up into Daichi's, startled.
"Daichi?" he asks again, but it's a whisper.
Daichi places his hands as a mirror to Suga's, one hand on Suga's shoulder, the other on his hip. "Dance with me," he says.
Suga's expression changes into one of disbelief. "There are a million things we still need to get done—"
"They can wait," Daichi assures him, starting to sway in place. Suga follows him, slightly off-beat. He's still frowning, but the tension of his shoulders is loosening as he looks into Daichi's eyes.
"The kitchen," he mumbles.
"The kitchen can wait too." Daichi leans forward and kisses Suga on the cheek. Suga scrunches his nose up in surprise, but his shoulders relax a little more. "It's our first night together in our own apartment. That's something special."
Suga's starting to get a grasp of the rhythm now, rocking back and forth in Daichi's hands, following his lead. "You're ridiculous, Daichi," he murmurs, but he inches closer. Daichi hums in answer, sliding his hand from Suga's hip to rest in the dip of his lower back.
After a little while, Suga rests his head against Daichi's shoulder and sighs, his eyes closing. They sway together, no music except each other, dancing in the middle of their shared life that's just beginning to take shape.