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it’s the mixture of alcohol, the date, daichi’s hands, and it being so fucking long that suga spills it.
he’s tired. no, scratch that, he’s exhausted. he feels weary down to his bones, to his very soul. he can’t go around smiling, acting like his heart hasn’t been dragging him six feet deep to an early grave for exactly five years now.
sugawara koushi was eighteen years old when he fell in love with his best friend. he woke up grumpily to a text that lightened his face up instantly, a simple ‘all done with your beauty rest, suga?’. one misty, cold, wintry morning, it all went fantastically wrong.
he buried it deep down, of course. he ignored the way his temporary infatuation changed into a hopeless crush and all too suddenly turned into something different, something that terrified him.
suga isn’t good with emotions so he ran away. ran from them, from miyagi, from daichi; shackles on his heart trying to drag him back there.
‘back where you belong’, they whispered, tugging at the strings of his heart, waving him around like a marionette.
he begs them to let go, shame, disgust, guilt, anger, everything boiling heavily in his gut.
but now he’s here, daichi’s here, still the same dazzling smile, pleasant smell, chin resting on his hands as he looks at suga, enraptured.
suga can’t help staring at his hands. they used to be rougher than his. were they still the same?
why? he wants to ask. why do you look at me like that? i’m hurting. go away. leave me alone. hold me, stay. go.
everything is a contradiction.
instead, he says, “i’m in love with you.”
the panic hits him. there are voices in his head, each screaming louder than the other.
then the calm hits him before he can take it back.
daichi’s eyes widen. suga holds his breathe.
“good.”
mind numbing silence.
“good?”
daichi looks at him, nodding. “good,” he reaffirms, “i’ve been in love with you since i saw you.”
what.
no.
he heard it wrong, didn’t he? he chuckles weakly, no way. suga’s finally succumbing to insanity, he’s going delusional. he shakes his head, incoherent mumbling leaving his mouth. he’s too busy turning his own head over to notice daichi’s calls until—
until a hand wraps around his.
in midst of all the chaos in his mind, he tunes out everything.
daichi’s hands are soft.
“you can’t just say that, dai.” he says, voice shaking.
no callouses anywhere.
“koushi,” he whispers, “you’re so amazing. how can i not?”
the grip tightens. it doesn’t hurt.
“look at me.”
he wants to scream. isn’t that what suga’s been doing all this time, looking at him again and again because that’s all he can do? he can stare at art for his whole life, but it can’t be his, can’t be with him.
but the hands are so gentle, caressing his knuckles. would daichi’s eyes be the same?
“kou.”
every nerve of his body screams at him not to, but his heart is begging and pleading, fighting for one last hopeless gaze. he raises his head.
oh.
“oh.”
“oh?”
it’s so fucking earnest. suga doesn’t want to not believe it, wants to ignore the absolute mess that is his mind, because daichi is looking at him openly, the gaze reflecting every damned emotion that suga has dragged around for years; frustration, sorrow, hope.
so he takes a deep breathe and lets go of everything.
“you’re in love with me.”
“yeah.”
he stares down at their intertwined hands. how long has he longed— no, yearned for this? the press of daichi’s knuckles onto his fingers, warmth seeping into each other, how perfectly they fit and how all this makes him so fucking happy.
“can i kiss you?”
daichi laughs, that certain boisterous sound that never failed to make suga’s brain dreamy, and mumbles, “yeah,” his face red and flustered.
it’s so endearing that suga doesn’t waste a second before he presses his lips softly against the other’s, hesitating at first before going all in.
he holds his hand tighter and kisses him. again and again and again.
he wakes up the next morning, pulling the other closer slowly to fight off the chill.
“are you ever going to get up?”
“the world, cold and cruel. you, warm and soft.”
suga hears the exasperated huff of his breathe, close to his ear, causing him to shiver.
he opens his eyes to meet beautiful, beautiful brown ones.
god, he really does have this, he thinks, a smile spreading all over his face. it’s not a dream. daichi is here. he’s real, all muscular and gorgeous and the love of his life in suga’s arms.
“who says ‘good’ to someone confessing their love for you, you dumbass?” he grumbles, amusement dancing in his eyes as daichi’s eyes widen.
“who just blurts it out like that? i was taken back!”
suga laughs. he doesn’t remember being this happy in so, so long. when was the last time his chest was this light, no feeling of emptiness dragging him down?
he wiggles his arms free, squishes daichi’s face between his hands, “will you be surprised every time i say it?” he asks, not giving him a chance to respond before suga leans forward, kissing his forehead.
“because i,” he says, then turns down to meet red, red cheeks, “love you.”
he gazes back up to daichi’s eyes, blown open and curious, before moving closer to his lips, closer, closer.
“i’m going to say that everyday, better get used to it, daichi.” he murmurs, their lips almost touching and then.
then tilting up and landing a peck on daichi’s nose, grinning at the rough frustrated voice that leaves his throat.
“you’re a tease, sugawara koushi.”
fondness drips in daichi’s tone, and suga only hums lazily in response, closing his eyes to bask in this moment.
they snap open a minute later when daichi’s hands grip his own, covering them entirely. he’s barely opened his mouth to say something before daichi lands three neat kisses on them.
“i love you too,” he says and suga’s heart cries: you’re home, you fool.