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"I told you I had practice in the morning," Yaku says around his toothbrush while glaring at Lev. “You should’ve come tomorrow. You’re just going to end up spending tomorrow alone.”
Lev visibly deflates where he’s lying on the bed and Yaku rolls his eyes before turning back to the bathroom to wash the toothpaste out of his mouth.
Lev’s voice chases after him. “I just wanted to see you. I miss you.”
Even though they’re in separate rooms, Yaku still rolls his eyes. Lev can’t see it, but he’s found that a good amount of eye-rolling is very helpful when it comes to washing down the wave of affection that rises up in his chest with Lev’s every word and action.
"Since you’re going to be alone all day, make sure you do your homework. Just because you’re here doesn’t mean you can slack off on your studies." He’s sure to give Lev a very stern look as he walks back into the bedroom. "If you don’t get into a decent university I’m dumping you. I don’t date dumbasses. We’ve got a break in the afternoon, but I’m going to stay on campus to study so I can’t come home to check up on you."
"Whatever, mom,” Lev says, rolling over onto his back and stretching out his long limbs.
"What have I told you about calling me that? It’s weird. And get your foot off my pillow."
Lev’s subsequent pout is not cute, and Yaku will insist upon that until he reaches his grave. He does take his foot off Yaku’s pillow though, and continues moving until he’s sitting up to shrug off his shirt before dropping it on the floor by the bed. Yaku can already tell by how much he’s moving around that they’ll both be up late tonight. Lev’s always like this when he first comes over, all excited energy that’s just barely contained.
"Hamper," Yaku reminds Lev, and he groans but gets up dutifully to deposit the garment where it belongs. He takes advantage of Lev’s momentary absence to straighten the sheets and pillows that Lev had kicked about before climbing into the bed.
He’s barely had a chance to get comfortable when Lev jumps—literally—into bed. He immediately glues himself to Yaku’s back, wrapping his arms around him and throwing a leg over his. He presses a kiss to Yaku’s shoulder.
"Good night."
"Good night, Lev."
Of course, Yaku had been right when he’d thought Lev would keep him up. He’d spent a good hour wriggling about, unable to relax enough to fall asleep. He’d still been awake when Yaku had managed to finally doze off, which is why Yaku’s surprised when he wakes up and the bed is empty. Or at least he would be, if he were more awake. As it is, all he can really focus on is the fact that he woke up to an empty, cold bed and he doesn’t like that. At all.
He prys himself out of bed and shuffles toward the kitchen, navigating mostly off of smell and sound because his eyes still seem to think he’s still in bed asleep. Lev’s there, humming at the stove dressed in nothing but his underwear and an apron. Yaku settles himself at the table, head pillowed on his arms and focuses on the smell of freshly cooked breakfast. Lev isn’t the best cook, but cooking for Yaku makes him happy and Yaku likes when Lev is happy.
"Good morning," Lev says as he sets a mug of coffee in front of him. He kisses Yaku on the head before returning to the stove.
Yaku sits up and cups his hands around the warmth of the mug, inhales the steam and scent of it, before finally starting to drink. He’s fully alert by the time Lev sets a plate heaped with food in front of.
"You cooked," he says belatedly.
"Yes I did." Lev smiles at him proudly before leaning over for his first proper kiss of the day.
They eat, and then Yaku leaves Lev to clean the kitchen so he can get ready for practice.
(“I mean it. I don’t want to come home to find the dirty breakfast dishes still sitting around.”)
He’s halfway out the door, calling out a goodbye, when Lev runs up and shoves a bento at him.
"I made you lunch!"
Lunch is rice and smiling octopus hot dogs. Yaku didn’t even know he had hot dogs. There are no vegetables, but it’s the thought that counts.
(Or so Yaku tells himself.)
He’s not too worried about leaving Lev alone. He’s practically an adult, which is a hilarious thought, but one that assures Yaku that he doesn’t need to call up a baby sitter. Besides, if anything does come up, Lev is fully capable of leaving the apartment and locking up since he has his own key.
He’d actually cried when Yaku handed it over, and he had instantly regretted trying to casually slip it to him as he left the apartment because that meant standing in his doorway smiling awkwardly as his neighbors came and went while his boyfriend sobbed into his shoulder.
Yaku only did it because he was tired of coming home from his Friday night practices to find Lev on the floor in front of his apartment door—or worse, Lev not on the floor in front of his apartment door because he had been scooped up by one of Yaku’s neighbors.
They had started calling Lev a “sweet boy.” All of them. It was awful.
Yaku would like to see how sweet they thought Lev was when they were tripping over his overly large shoes left in the middle of the entry hall. He kicks Lev’s closer to the wall, before setting his bag next to them and toeing off his shoes. He makes his way to the kitchen. Sweet boys don’t leave their school work scattered all over the table. He catches sight of the sink, piled high, and clicks his tongue. His neighbors wouldn’t think Lev was so sweet if they knew that he was incapable of washing his own dishes.
Yaku glares at the offender, who’s currently face down on the couch asleep and—is that drool?
It’s drool.
"You’re disgusting," he says as he covers Lev with a blanket. "I regret ever giving you that key."
"The last thing I want to do when I get home from hours of chasing after a volleyball is clean up after you," he adds as he heads back to the kitchen to clean up Lev’s post-study session mess and wash the dishes.
(Enough for lunch and dinner, meaning that Lev had technically listened to him when he said to wash the breakfast dishes.)
By the time he gets out of the shower, Lev’s awake and sitting up on the couch blinking blearily.
"What time is it? When did you get home?"
"Not too long ago. I’m assuming since I didn’t see a dirty pot on the stove there are leftovers in the fridge?"
"Yeah, I thought you might be hungry when you got back." Lev tilts his head up expectantly as Yaku passes and he indulges him with a kiss he definitely doesn’t deserve.
Yaku grabs the pot out of the fridge and a spoon out of the drawer before heading back to the living room and settling on the couch next to Lev.
"Turn the tv on," he says, nudging him with a foot, before digging into the—"What is this?"
"It’s supposed to be stew," Lev says, mouth downturned in a way that says he isn’t happy with the result.
Yaku shovels several spoonfuls in his mouth. “It’s good.”
"No it isn’t."
Yaku considers the lingering taste of his last spoon. “Use more salt next time,” he suggests.
Yaku gets up to wash the pot and spoon after he finishes, promising himself that the next apartment he gets will have a dishwasher. When he returns to the couch, Lev lays on top of him and asks him about practice and then launches into meandering recounting of his day. Yaku’s tired, but he thinks he’s doing a pretty good job of following along with Lev’s rambling until Lev goes from telling him about an essay he’s working on to poking him hard in the side.
"—suke. You should go to bed. Wake up."
Yaku bats his hand away, irritably. “I’m awake, I’m awake. I just closed my eyes—”
"For over an hour?"
Yaku tries to sit up to get a look at the clock. Fails, because Lev is still on top of him.
"It’s eleven," Lev tells him.
"Shit. Why didn’t you wake me up?"
"I just did."
"Earlier."
Lev climbs off him, offers him a hand to help him off the couch. “You looked cute.”
They walk to the bathroom like that, hand in hand, Yaku leaning on Lev a little more than he’d like to admit. Lev bumps his hip into Yaku’s as they brush their teeth, and Yaku retaliates by jabbing him in the side with an elbow.
In the bedroom, Lev shucks off his clothes and tosses them at the hamper. They make it—mostly—though his socks fall short. Dressed only in his boxers now, he joins Yaku in bed where he’s lying down on top of the covers, eyes already closed again.
Lev tugs the blankets out from under him and pulls them over both of them. He kisses Yaku, who moves to kiss him back before yawning in his face.
"S’rry."
Lev can’t help himself. He laughs at the sight of Yaku, sleepy and confused, with his brow furrowed, trying to figure out how to sleep and kiss Lev at the same time. “That’s okay. Good night.” He presses his thumb to the crease between Yaku’s eyebrows, trying to smooth out his frustration. The movement turns into a caress as Lev drags his knuckles over his cheek. “I love you.”
"Love you, too," Yaku mutters, mostly into the pillow. "We need a dishwasher."
Lev flushes, wondering how much of the conversation Yaku will remember in the morning. “Okay,” he says quietly, and then repeats Yaku’s words to himself. He mouths we several times, relishing the feel and shape of the word in his mouth. He falls asleep like that, with the promise of a future with Yaku (complete with dishwasher) on his lips.