Work Text:
It’s the third night of their training camp at Lake Shirakaba, and Akihiro is sitting outside on the steps to the cabin, fiddling with some wire to pass the time while he waits for Yuki to join him. It had been Yuki’s idea to get away from everyone at the end of the day, finally spend some time alone, just the two of them, but he must have gotten roped into something, because Akihiro’s been out here for a while now.
He doesn’t mind the wait – he’s enjoying the cool night air and the feeling of being clean after a long day of running, the soothing white noise of the crickets around the cabin, the view of the night sky beyond the dark trees. It’s beautiful: an endless dark blue above the black silhouettes, the stars a brilliant spatter against it. They’re brighter here than Akihiro’s ever seen before, thousands of glittering specks where in Tokyo he only ever sees a few, and he almost wonders if he could see just by their glow if the soft light from the cabin wasn’t spilling out here onto the steps.
He looks down at the still-shapeless wire in his hands and turns it around, watching as the light dances along it with every tilt. He starts bending it aimlessly, his hands working on their own while he lets his thoughts drift. They wander, like always, to sharp, teasing laughs and clever eyes, the soft fuzz of an undercut.
He thinks of Yuki today at camp: of that groggy, disheveled look he had in the morning, the one that’s become Akihiro’s favorite thing to wake up to over the past few months; of his new running shirt and how good it looked on him, all tight and form-fitting, showing off the definition of his torso. Of the way he’d grabbed Akihiro’s wrist after their afternoon run, pulling him to a stop to let everyone else go inside before them and stealing a kiss. Of We haven’t been alone in three days, let’s come out here tonight?
He thinks of how good Yuki had felt under his hands when they kissed for a little longer, all warm after the run, his shirt just the slightest bit damp where Akihiro held his waist.
He only realizes he’d completely zoned out when he notices the half-finished shape his hands have started to form. He huffs a small laugh and begins to loop and bend the wire further, shaping it more intently this time.
He’s just bending back the very end into a small loop when he hears familiar steps coming down the stairs. He puts the wire away as the door opens, and there Yuki is, finally, standing in the starlight in his gray shorts and a simple white t-shirt. Akihiro’s chest fills with fondness at the sight – there’s something so inexplicably sweet about seeing Yuki like this, in simple, comfortable clothes instead of his usual stylish outfits that he usually prefers even at home. He’s almost white against the backdrop of the dark forest, and that’s cute too, how he’s still as pale as the day they left.
“The twins were being the twins,” Yuki grumbles as he walks over, and Akihiro notices he’s holding a bag of Kappa Ebisen. It’s the wasabi kind too, Akihiro’s favorite.
“I didn’t know we had those. Did Katsuta-san and Hana-chan bring snacks too?”
“It’s mine,” Yuki says, sitting down on the top of the steps beside Akihiro. “I figured I’d pack some extra food just in case.”
“Just in case?”
Yuki just turns his face away a little instead of an answer, as if looking out into the forest, but Akihiro can still see how his brows have furrowed into a small frown. It’s what he does when he realizes he’s accidentally revealed too much of himself, and ah.
Akihiro exhales softly, feeling guilty. He tries to keep his voice light as he says, “You know I see you still watching me eat my meals every day. I’m better about that stuff now, don’t worry.”
He nudges Yuki’s leg with his own, hopes that the small, gentle contact is reassuring.
“I know,” Yuki says, but his voice is still a little tight, and he’s fiddling with one of the bag’s corners.
His concern is touching, Akihiro thinks – he’s really so fucking sweet under all the bossiness and the impatience. It’s not like it’s a new revelation to Akihiro; they’ve been living together for more than three years now, and in that time, it’s become painfully obvious that despite his prickliness, Yuki is one of the most caring people Akihiro’s ever known, even if he likes to hide it. But even so, even after three years, seeing that care always warms Akihiro to his core, especially when it’s directed at him.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “You’re always worrying about all of us.” Especially me.
“Yeah, well, you’re all kind of idiots.”
Akihiro laughs. It’s stupid, how affectionate even that makes him feel.
He leans over to press a kiss to Yuki’s cheek, and says, “You’re cute, Yuki,” a little teasingly, even though he means it.
“Ugh, shut up and kiss me properly,” Yuki mutters, pulling him in by his shirt.
Akihiro smiles as he kisses him, but it melts quickly when he feels how insistently Yuki’s pressing their lips together, how blatant his sheer want is in the kiss. He kisses Akihiro like he’s missed this just as much as Akihiro has, and that’s still so hard to believe sometimes – that Yuki, clever, caring, gorgeous, perfect Yuki, would want him like this.
Yuki deepens the kiss and Akihiro lets him, kisses back just as eagerly until he’s lightheaded with the feeling of him.
When they separate, Yuki’s eyes are half lidded and a little hazy, his lips gently parted, shining wetly. He always looks so open after kissing, and Akihiro’s heart lurches at the sight of him.
He takes a steadying breath and reaches for the bag lying forgotten on the steps, saying, “Come on, let’s eat this then,” lightly, an almost-apology for making him worry.
They snack in comfortable silence for a while, Akihiro offering the bag to Yuki too as he looks out into the forest, up at that beautiful splash of white against inky blue. He savors the way the air has warmed around them, the comfort of Yuki leaning a strong thigh against his, the simple closeness of Yuki’s body for the first time in days.
He glances over to Yuki just as he’s taking some chips, and he can’t help being struck by how beautiful the moment is in its simplicity, by how stunning Yuki always manages to look, eclipsing everything even when there’s all this beauty around them, even when he’s just eating some chips.
“What?” Yuki asks, turning to him, and Akihiro realizes he must have been staring for longer than he thought.
He snorts a little at his own sentimentality and says, “Nothing. I was just thinking it’s nice here.”
Yuki narrows his eyes at him in clear skepticism, and somehow, Akihiro loves that too.
Yuki doesn’t push him to say anything more, though, and instead, they just talk about the camp so far, about that Tokyo Sport kid and Kakeru, about Kakeru's confession and what it might mean for him and the team. Yuki’s voice is light and casual as he speaks, but Akihiro can still hear the tension in his words; he’s worried about Kakeru, even though he’d been the first to speak up and dispel Kakeru’s worries like they were nothing. Akihiro remembers how it had taken him a little longer to warm to Kakeru and feels so fond seeing his concern now, thinking about the easy way he supported Kakeru today.
“He’s a good kid,” Akihiro says honestly. “He’ll be fine with us.”
Yuki makes a noncommittal sound, but he doesn’t argue, just leans into the contact when Akihiro kisses his shoulder.
Once they’re done with the chips, Akihiro puts the empty bag aside, wiping his hand on his shorts. A moment later, there’s another hand on his thigh, and for a thrilling second, Akihiro thinks Yuki’s gotten impatient to touch him, but when he looks down, Yuki’s just wiping his hand too.
“What the fuck?” Akihiro asks, but he’s laughing.
Yuki gives him a completely blank look. “What? Yours are already dirty,” he says, and Akihiro just laughs more at his bluntness, his chest filling with affection.
He loves that bluntness too like he loves Yuki’s icy glares, like he loves his warm concern, his sharp tongue and his soft lips. His bossiness, his impatience, his bright ambition. The way he could argue anything with anyone, but also the way he’ll dedicate himself completely to the things he wants to pursue. The way he’ll drape himself on Akihiro sometimes when he’s tired, softer and more vulnerable than he is with anyone else. The way he coaxes Akihiro away from too-demanding projects gently, until Akihiro is lying in his lap and there are slender fingers brushing his hair, or the way he tries to stay up too if Akihiro won’t stop, just so they can fall asleep together.
There isn’t really anything about Yuki that Akihiro doesn’t love, and that thought is sometimes a little scary in its enormity, but mostly, it’s just warm and right.
This time, it’s Akihiro who closes the distance between them, turning to Yuki even more and pressing into his space. Yuki’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment, but then he’s leaning in too, a small, knowing smile on his lips before they meet Akihiro’s. His hand settles low on Akihiro’s back, fingers twisting in his shirt and gently pulling the material as he holds on – and that’s probably one of the things Akihiro loves the most, the way Yuki will sometimes hang on to his clothes when they kiss.
This kiss is softer than before, slower, and Akihiro loses all sense of time as he gets wrapped up in it. Yuki’s lips are soft as they press against his, his tongue dipping into Akihiro’s mouth unhurriedly, his breaths warm and close.
He’s still holding on to Akihiro’s shirt when they start to pull apart, with small pecks that fade into nothing little by little.
“Let’s go back inside?” Akihiro asks, still close enough that he can see his reflection in Yuki’s dark eyes. “We probably shouldn’t stay out here all night if Haiji’s making us get up at six again.”
Yuki huffs and mutters, “Don’t remind me,” but he disentangles from Akihiro and starts to get up after one last quick kiss.
Akihiro grabs the discarded bag of Kappa Ebisen and stands too, suddenly remembering the little wire shape still in his pocket. He deliberates for a second, but quickly decides what he wants to do when he imagines Yuki’s face adorably scrunched up in flustered annoyance.
“Hey, Yuki,” he says before Yuki can go inside, fishing the small snowflake out of his pocket. “I made something while I was waiting. Here.”
It takes Yuki a few moments to realize what Akihiro’s giving him, and then there it is, that little scrunchy frown Akihiro loves so much too.
“That’s– is this so I don’t make you wait next time?” Yuki accuses him, but there’s a soft blush blooming on his still-pale cheeks as he starts to turn the wire around in his hands. Cute.
“It’s only fair, right?” Akihiro teases, and plants a kiss on his forehead before Yuki can say anything else.
When they go upstairs a few minutes later, Akihiro sees him put the snowflake by his futon.