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“Yuu-san! Mika-san! Are you awake? I know you’re in there!”
Unless Shinoa cared to focus her demon’s curse into her ears, Yuuichirou answered with a mumble left unheard. Neither Hyakuya intended to fall back asleep. They’d neglected the running air conditioner last night, and the two made a shivering return under the sheets upon waking. They would warm, and after a few minutes of cocooning under their comforter, a blanket Mitsuba dragged to their house one autumn afternoon, and the throw from the sofa, they’d begin their morning routine anew.
Their game of kicking each other’s feet should one of them doze off, however, settled into crossed ankles and arms draped over shoulders. Their playful arguments over nothing gave way to enjoying a warmth too good to leave and the safety of their embrace.
“That’s odd,” came Yoichi’s voice next. “Mika-san would’ve brought him out by now. Maybe they’re—”
When Kimizuki’s rough knocking cut him off, Yuuichirou groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter.
“Get up, idiot! You’ve already made us late!”
“Yuu-chan… get off me,” Mikaela mumbled, pulling him closer.
Without moving a muscle, he replied, “Can’t. Move your arm.”
“Can’t… your head’s on it.”
Yuuichirou snuggled into the pillowy softness of his upper arm. “Nuh-uh.”
When at last he forced open his eyes, the reward of Mikaela’s sleepy face empowered him to grab the comforter.
“On three,” He yawned, “We lift the blanket.”
“Right…”
They shared an elongated sigh, a moment of silence for the comfort they’d lose, and an unenthusiastic cry of “Three…”
Once they wrestled and kicked their arrangement to their ankles, the icy fingers of their air conditioner slipped beneath their pajamas’ fabric.
“Cold!” They cried in unison, tucking their legs into their stomachs.
“Yuu! Answer the door!”
“Ugh, move!” Mitsuba added.
“Hey! You have twenty minutes to meet up with us or we’re leaving!”
“… You don’t think they’re serious, do you?” Yuuichirou asked.
The pillow consuming his face muffled half his words.
When his only response from Mikaela was a leg hanging off the mattress, toes running along the carpet for the slippers he kicked off, he jumped to preserve his ally in lethargy.
“Miiiika…?” He pleaded, adding copious amounts of sugar to his voice. “Would you be mad if I skipped today?”
“Yeah. Be responsible.”
Mikaela anchored his descent with a hand installed on the bed frame, and he led Yuuichirou to their vanity. Tugging yet another bedhead induced cowlick, Mikaela’s mere presence beside him gravitated his fingers to his ear.
“It won’t go down…” He mumbled, playing with Mikaela’s earlobe. So long as he sat in arm’s length during any menial task of his, Yuuichirou would set to work on an ear, a stay lock, a sleeve.
“Here. Lemme.”
Mikaela slipped the brush from his grasp and tended to his stubborn hair. One part received 20 strokes, another four, and to ‘fix a messy section’ was his excuse to run his fingers through it. He combed his locks with his fingers, indulging in the shared scent of their shampoo for minutes before returning to a comb.
“Stop washing it before you sleep…”
“Not my fault you take forever to shower… just join me next time.”
“Whatever…”
Escaping the head ready to make his shoulder a cushion, Mikaela snagged Yuuichirou’s Second Shibuya High uniform and laid it across the dresser. Pressed and steamed, its fold pattern rivaled that of a clothing boutique.
“Get dressed.”
Mikaela took one last glance at their beds before stepping out. As usual, his suffered collateral damage from Yuuichirou trekking his way beneath his sheets. He made the nuisance’s bed about a week ago, and there it remained in its cleanliness, thanks to skipping the pretense of tossing and turning in his own and going straight toward Mikaela’s. His excuses of a winter chill or the springs in his mattress being too loose also disappeared, replaced with his signature ‘can’t-be-helped’ smirk.
“Tonight, we’re sleeping in your bed… see how you like it.”
“‘Kay…”
On second thought, Mikaela, too, lacked the energy for banter, so he started for the kitchen to pick up the pieces of what should have been a seamless morning routine. He noted the textbooks tucked into the far corner of the dining space, which Yuuichirou always forgot if he didn’t remind him.
Upon reaching the counter, his hands set to work by reflex. Behind his packed lunch lay two of Yuuichirou and Shinoa’s favorite snacks: melon bread and Manju buns. He stuffed them in his school bag without looking. He grabbed the sticky notes beside a mutilated container of colas (he found the scissors hidden under the dish towels), he scribbled a reminder to eat real food first.
They—a generous phasing when only Yuuichirou kept them up at night—overslept enough times to create emergency breakfast prep. Tucked in the fridge’s crisper to avoid an early trip to someone’s stomach, he uncovered pre-made pizza toast with an enoki mushroom label.
“Take bread, spread the ketchup, add cheese… not too much,” He muttered to himself.
Yuuichiou always loaded a single slice with enough to cover a loaf.
“Sprinkle the pepper, onion, bacon…”
Whether it tasted better when burnt, or that was a lie he and Guren insisted upon, Mikaela let it darken until the melted, golden ingredients filled the room with their scent.
It allured him like a siren’s song, and a pair of arms wrapped around Mikaela’s waist.
“Hungry…” Yuuichirou mumbled into the back of his neck, sending wafts of stolen cinnamon mouthwash past his nose.
For a while, they allowed this quiet to pass. Mikaela basked in the heat of their embrace, as though he brought the bed with him, and fell into a dreary lull no words should have filled. If not for the toaster oven’s clanging alert, the sound of their heartbeats may have lulled them to sleep.
Mikaela abandoned their hug for the chillier air, blew on his makeshift breakfast, and beckoned a corner into Yuuichirou’s mouth. A pleasurable whine escaped as he pulled back, and strings of cheese created a trail between his teeth and meal.
“Mika…! Your food tastes so yummy…!”
Music to his ears.
Though his heart sang, he gave little acknowledgment to his praise.
Yuuichirou’s unevenly buttoned jacket and messy undershirt took priority.
“Pay attention when you put on your clothes…”
The fingers trailing up to fix his buttons stopped at his chest, upon which he gave a gentle pat. He resisted its magnetic appeal as a pillow (and it often functioned as such) and tidied the collar he would find undone when he got home.
“Three min~utes!” Shinoa sang from the front porch.
Mikaela held out both his fists. Privy to their routine, Yuuichirou connected his own.
“Quit being such a baby…” He sighed, and their necks craned to join their foreheads. “You’ll live.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause it’s not your problem… you’re still in my pajamas.”
“Payback. You got tonkatsu sauce on mine…”
To both their dismay, Yuuichirou detached himself before they nuzzled into each other yet again. He slid his bag off the counter.
“Bye…”
“Oh, Yuu-chan…”
Mikaela dragged his feet to the front door with his forgotten lunch in hand, but upon receiving it, Yuuichirou didn’t move.
“I’m heading out now…”
Another pause.
“All right. Be safe…”
His farewell passed below his breath. As he held Yuuichirou’s shoulders to guide him aside, and Yuuichirou drew nearer to request he repeat himself, their lips had grazed. Though their mistake hardly qualified as a kiss, the familiar heat drew them in at once and emboldened it.
Their lips slid together with such appealing ease, and there, out of laziness and a want different from any they experienced, they stayed, drifting into half-sleep.
“You look terrible,” Kimizuki scoffed when Yuuichirou finally greeted his friends. “How long did you stay up?”
As Yuuichirou conjured his jumbled mess of an answer, Mikaela closed the door. He didn’t remember how late they were awake, but he knew nothing forced them to do so. What glued them to the living room couch that Sunday was the need for company—hip to hip and with no stimuli to disrupt their blissful nothingness. He must’ve alerted him of their impending bedtime once or twice during a re-run of Trivia Quizzes—You’ll Get Scolded by Chiko-chan! , to which he received answers of “hm” and “ah” before they slipped back into a comfortable silence.
A strange tingle warmed his mouth, and when he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes shot wide open.
His hands, chest, and cheeks burned as though they caught fire.
To give in to the magnetism of his face… If he were thinking at all…!
His heart hammered against his sternum, and he threw himself to the foyer with foot-tripping adrenaline.
Amidst his friends’ confusion, Yuuichirou stood just as frozen and flustered, which Mikaela’s presence only worsened.
He pinched a corner of his mouth.
“D-Did we…?”
“… Did you what?” Mistubsa asked, eyes narrow.
“Yuu-kun? You okay?” Yoichi chimed in, taking a cautious step forward that Shinoa blocked with her arm.
“Nah, he’s good.”
Kimizuki folded his arms across his chest. “What now!? Why’re you two so spaced out?”
Throat tightened and breath short, Mikaela sputtered whatever words managed to form on his tongue.
“L-Later! We’ll talk later! Or—Or never!”
After slamming the door, Mikaela replayed every touch from this morning, last night, and the ones before then. How years of unspoken affection burst forth in delirium unrestrained.
A declaration of love so understated it caught him off guard.
His meandering steps brought him to the wall where he’d lean and eventually slide to the floor.
‘Not my fault you take forever to shower… just join me next time.’
‘Whatever…’
How could he have said such things!? How could he have responded so casually!?
‘Later,’ he commanded to himself, to the ghost of their kiss lingering on his mouth.
Minutes of grueling silence passed, and his tolerance for solitude disappeared.
Having tossed aside his endeavor for a peaceful morning, he rushed to call Yuuichirou back home.