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You live in a small apartment. It’s really the tiniest thing, but at least it has a bedroom and an office. It may be half cinder-block, and all of it was that ugly, standard cream color that’s only good in moderation. And yeah, you’d had to get very creative with command strips when you first moved in. But it looks great now. You chuckle a little, thinking back on it. Sugawara had gotten enough to line the entire ceiling of your bedroom with twinkle lights, and he’d smacked a leftover one above the entryway. When you’d asked him, confused, why he had just hung an empty hook, he turned to you with the biggest grin.
It was his mischievous one, and you gulped as he pulled you close to him by the waist, crossing his arms behind you.
“For mistletoe, obviously. It’s staying up all winter.” He’d tugged you under where the hook was to let you imagine. “Won’t that be great? You come home from work, or I do, and the other comes and gives them a kiss…like this.”
You’ll never get enough of his kisses. This one was sweet, loving, his soft lips against yours in the summer heat.
When you stopped, you smiled at him. “Silly, that’s not how mistletoe works. You have to be under it coincidentally, not get under it on purpose.”
Suga grinned back. “Who says?”
“Fair point.” You’d rubbed his shoulders with your hands and hummed as if you we’re thinking. “Well, how about this then.” You peck his lips again. “We greet each other at the door with kisses all year, and only put up the mistletoe for decoration?”
From the lasting smooch he gave you, you could tell he liked the idea.
You love living with your boyfriend. Sometimes he feels more like a fiancé, but instead of a ring, you wear a little metal bracelet with both yours and his initials on it. He has a matching one, and there’s a little heart charm with a magnet that connects whenever you hold hands. You go to the same college, so you walk around with them connected sometimes, and you love watching how his blush spreads across his cheekbones with shyness. You’d offered, once, to let his hand go so he wouldn’t be embarrassed, but instead, he kissed you on the spot.
“No, it’s not like that,” he’d sworn, forehead against yours. “I want people to know we’re together, I’m proud of it. I just…” He averted his eyes a little but forces himself to look back at you. “…can’t believe it, sometimes, like it’s a dream, ya know?” He’d stepped back, a hand on the back of his neck, smiling to lighten the mood. “I guess I sound silly, sorry.”
Then you’d blushed bright red, and you two got so caught up kissing each other that you were late to class.
You both balanced work and college, so it was really hard. It was a struggle, but living together had actually cut costs a lot, and gave you both a lot more time to see each other. With any new living situation, there was a big adjustment period, and you’d be lying if you said you both hadn’t gotten aggravated and into some fights, but then he’d smack your shoulder screaming, “Time out! Mandatory cuddle time.”
It’s a rule you instated before you’d moved in together. If you’re getting too deep into a fight and it’s stopped being productive, either one of you can call time out. Then you grab blankets, make some tea or cocoa, and find a nice spot to curl up together. It’s a great way to de-stress; if you get upset, laying your head on Suga’s chest, the person you’re most comfortable with in the world, and just listening to his breathing does wonders. If he gets worked up, he loves laying his head on your lap and letting you play with his hair. Soon you re-frame everything. This is the person you love, and any anger with them can be resolved and redirected. By the time ten minutes has passed, you try the argument again, and often you come to a conclusion quickly while your hands and legs are intertwined.
Right now, it’s the weekend, so neither of you have classes. Suga had a morning shift at his part time job in the library, so you’re chilling in your living room, waiting for him to return. There’s a nice patch of sunlight on your reading chair at this hour, so you bask in it and load your current novel. You’ll try to get some homework done tomorrow, today you’re just relaxing. Waiting for Suga to get home is peaceful, but it always makes you wish the man himself was here to rest with you.
You hear keys jingle at the front door and launch yourself at it. It’s so ungraceful, you yank the key out of his hand by turning the knob, and you only get to see his surprised look for a second before your momentum carries you backward and you fall right on your ass with a thud.
“Ow!” you say, and rub your bum as you try to stand again, and you hear a snicker.
Yep, Suga has a hand over his mouth as he leans on the door-frame, his smile peaking from beneath as he tries to spare your dignity.
Too late, your dignity is as bruised as your behind, so you bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god I can’t believe I did that,” you say, and he loses it. His hearty laugh is just so contagious, you end up leaning on him and you both have a good chuckle at your antics.
“I’m home,” he says, wiping a tear.
You peck his lips while you’re both still winded. “Welcome home, Suga.”
He takes off his shoes and shuts the front door, and you put your hands on his coat to help him take it off before you hang it.
“How was work? Did Ami show up?”
He nods. “Yes she did! I was glad, Ami said her daughter loved the book I recommended.”
He’s so so sweet, god, you want to kiss him every moment.
His grocery bag went unnoticed until he held it up in front of you. “Look! I got stuff for more chocolate chip cookies. I figured I’d make them tonight.”
He really isn’t helping you with resisting the urge to smother his with smooches, but who cares, he’s yours after all. So you kiss his mole right under his eye and let your bracelets connect. “That’s an amazing idea, I love your cookies. I’ll make dinner in exchange.”
Suga nods and goes off to change out of his uniform. Meanwhile, you set the butter he needs on the counter to soften and pull out ingredients for pasta. You hear soft music echo in the kitchen and know he’s come back with his speaker, and you bob your head and sway to the tune.
There’s silence for a while. Being able to be silent with each other, just moving around and making food and listening to music you both like, is healing like almost nothing else. You feel him looking at you a few times, probably admiring your ass in these sweatpants, or maybe just thinking something embarrassing like how much he loves you. You look at him, too, once the water boils and the pasta is in and the sauce is heating. He’s so cute in his ruffled apron, perfect little bow at the small of his back while he makes the dough into balls.
You have a free moment now, so you stalk up behind him and grab his hips. You set your mouth on that sweet neck of his, delicate little kisses trailing up his neck.
“H-hey, that tickles,” he chastises, but he doesn’t stop you. You press up against his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder. He rubs a finger on your forehead, leaving a smear of dough.
“Hey! Rude,” you tease, tightening your hold on his waist. “Wait, you have some on you too,” you say, and get a little on his chin.
“Oh yeah? Darn, I think there’s some on your rib cage,” he says, and turns to tickle you for a second, giggling at your shrieks. He stops just as quick and you hold each other while you laugh.
“Shame on you, Sugawara, for picking a fight with little ol’ me,” you joke.
Suga scoffs at you, turning in your hold to lick the cookie dough right off your forehead. “All clean.”
You yelp and wipe the spit off, then return the favor with what you got on him, and somehow you end up making out. His hand cradles the back of your head as he tilts you backward to get deeper, tongue touching yours softly, your fingers clutching tight to his Tshirt. The joy you feel in moments like this can’t be measured in words, only in kisses, so you trade a hundred with the man you love.
“I love you, Koushi,” you sigh against his lips.
“I love you, too, love you so much,” he replies, and when he says it, it sounds like a promise. He lets you stand straight again, reaching to hold the hands with your bracelets, just so you can hear that little click of the magnets colliding. Connecting you, like you should be. It feels right in every way.