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Lee sits meditating cross-legged on the floor of their shared apartment when Neji makes his quiet entrance. Lee hears him anyway, bold eyes fluttering open to instantly find his, mouth stretching into a familiar, warm smile, like just seeing Neji has made his day. The expression never fails to warm Neji to his very bones.
“Neji-kun,” he says in welcome, sometimes forgetting to drop the honorific despite the fact that he and Neji are about as intimately familiar with each other as two people can be. He’s just too polite. Lee makes to stand up to properly greet him, but Neji motions him to stay. He makes his way over to kneel in front of him, bodies not yet touching but close enough to close the gap with a single movement.
Lee doesn’t know where Neji was today. That was intentional. Neji wanted this to be a surprise. He knew that Lee was looking forward to this almost more than anyone, save for himself and perhaps Gai-sensei. It seems as though Lee can read his face like an open book, because he waits expectantly for Neji to speak first instead of going to ask. Those dark eyes of his don’t waver for a second. They have this way of communicating that you have the entirety of his attention. Neji never feels quite so seen as he does when Lee looks at him. Neji spares a moment to just look back.
When enough time has passed, no more than a few minutes, Lee waiting patiently the whole time, Neji takes a deep breath in preparation. His mouth twitches nervously into an attempt at a smile. His hands, which are only slightly trembling, reach up from where they are rested on his thighs, and move to the back of his head, untying his Konoha hitai-ate with slow, careful movements. When it is untied, he holds the metal plate still against his forehead, as if to stretch the moment of anticipation slightly further. Finally, he lets the plate drop into his lap.
Lee lets his eyes finally wander from Neji’s, but they do not go too far. They center in right on his forehead. His perfectly blank, pale, unblemished forehead. Lee cannot quite manage to hold back a quiet gasp.
“Neji,” he says, voice choking up already. He always was so emotional.
Neji takes a deep breath, steadies himself. He doesn’t cry easily, never has, but the look of awe and adoration on Lee’s face right now just might push him over the edge.
“May I?” Lee asks, hand drifting towards his face. Neji nods easily, not knowing what he is going to do. He trusts the man before him with his life.
Lee ever so gently caresses the smooth skin on his forehead with his fingers, sending goosebumps up Neji’s arms. Lee is no stranger to Neji’s forehead, has spent many nights soothing him when Neji could not even bear to look in the mirror, but those instances were different to this one. Lee understands perfectly well how much this moment means to him, to both of them.
When Lee seems to have satisfied himself in touching, he lets his hand move slightly down, following the path of the side of his face, coming to a rest over his neck where the fingers easily find their place tangled in his hair. Lee slowly leans forward, giving Neji enough time to stop him if he so chooses, which he never would. He appreciates the consideration anyway. Lee’s lips come to rest on the center of his newly clean forehead, and press a long kiss there. Neji allows the tears that were building up in his eyes to finally spill over his cheeks.
They stay there, frozen in this moment in time, for as long as they please. The minutes pass them by, not sparing a second glance to two men who are, for all they care, alone in the world.
When Lee finally pulls back, his eyes are red and his cheeks have matching streak patterns to Neji’s. The smile that lights up his face is understated, but still makes him glow.
He does not go too far. His hand remains in Neji’s hair, and he uses the leverage to move his head to rest next to Neji’s on his shoulder. He brings his other arm up to hold him close.
“I am so proud of you,” he says. Neji closes his eyes as a fresh wave of tears cascade down his face. “My brave teammate.”
Neji spares a choked laugh. “Is that all I am? Your teammate?”
Lee exhales through his nose, amused. “No. You are also a dear friend, a fellow shinobi... and the one who holds my heart.”
Neji brings his own arms up to wrap tightly around Lee. “And you hold mine.”
Lee runs his fingers delicately through Neji’s long strands of hair. They share treasured silence. No words are needed to communicate how important this moment is. They have never needed many words to communicate at all, though Neji is glad Lee uses many of them regardless, just as Lee cherishes Neji for using very few.
When they completely separate at last, they are both breathing easier than they ever have been. Lee gives Neji a characteristic grin, showing all his teeth. “I was just about to make some tea. Would you like some?” he asks.
“Please.”
He rises to his feet gracefully and moves to the kitchen in practiced steps. Neji can hear the subtle sounds of the kettle being filled, the stove being turned on, their favorite mugs clinking together and being set on the counter. Neji looks down at his lap where his hitai-ate still rests. It served him well as a shield for all these years. He feels as though he could continue to use it as one for the rest of his life, find comfort in hiding, but he refuses to. He takes it in both his hands, rubs his thumb over the leaf symbol.
When Lee reenters the room minutes later, holding two steaming mugs, he comes to kneel in front of Neji again, setting his mug next to his leg on the wooden floor before holding his own in both hands and starting to blow cool air into the tea. Neji raises his head to meet his eyes.
“What if I started wearing this around my waist, like you?”
Lee lets out a boisterous laugh that throws his head back, needing to hold the mug very steady to prevent it from spilling. “I think that would look great on you, Neji.”
“I think it might look even better on me than it does on you,” teases Neji, raising a thin eyebrow.
“That sounds like a challenge, rival,” Lee throws back, setting his own mug down next to him so he can lean into Neji’s space, hands meeting the floor next to Neji’s knees, face mere inches away from Neji’s.
“What, did you think our rivalry came to an end just because we’re in love now?” Neji sets the hitai-ate somewhere off to the side, doesn’t spare it a glance, too busy leaning right back into Lee’s space. His eyes can’t help but drift down to Lee’s lips, stretched over a teasing smile, looking so inviting.
Lee huffs an amused breath, thinking of Gai-sensei and Kakashi. “Not for a second,” he says, the end of the last word being breathed into Neji’s own mouth as he closes the gap between them.