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It’s quiet in their dorm suite. Too quiet, Daichi thinks, given the fact that Suga’s midterm paper for his art history class is due at midnight and Daichi has yet to hear anything about it. Daichi himself is primarily concerned with his psych and bio exams next week, as well as his sociology paper due in a couple days, but at least he’s already started it and—
“Daiiiiichiiiiiiii,” Suga wails, interrupting Daichi’s train of thought. Ah. There we go. “Come help me with my paper,” he continues, the pout audible in his voice. Daichi swivels around in his desk chair and, sure enough, his boyfriend is looking up at him from his seat on the floor with his second-strongest puppy-dog eyes.
“Suga,” Daichi begins, looking at the heavily-annotated papers strewn across the floor of their shared suite, “I love you. You know this.”
“Yes. I know. And that’s why you are going to drop everything and help me finish this paper so I don’t fail out of college.”
“But.”
“Noooooo. No buts. I am begging you. Please, Daichi.”
“Don’t you think you should have started this before the day it was due?”
“Yes, Daichi, I do think that, and I have realized the extent of my hubris, but that does not change the fact that it is not done and I only have two hours until it’s due.”
Daichi knows perfectly well that the situation isn’t as dire as Suga is making it out to be. While he is normally more on top of things, this isn’t the most uncommon occurrence. So Daichi knows that, as usual, he will give in to his boyfriend’s pleading, and after five or ten minutes of talking through what he’s written so far, Suga will manage to finish the rest of his paper in record time. Then, Daichi will be rewarded with copious kisses before returning to his work, and Suga will still be able to get his nine hours of sleep without staying up to panic about his (impeccable) grades.
Daichi sighs quietly. The choice is clear.
“Okay, what are we looking at here?”
Suga beams at him as he swings his legs off of his chair and kneels down on the floor next to him, wrapping an arm around Suga’s hoodie-clad waist and peering over his shoulder at his laptop screen. “Well, we have to analyze the imagery in an Italian Baroque painting of our choice, and half the people in the class are doing something with Caravaggio, so I’m working on… this,” he explains to Daichi as he navigates to one of his open tabs to show him the painting in question.
Daichi blinks. “That… is, uh, kind of homoerotic, huh.”
“Isn’t it?” Suga says with a smirk, before it’s replaced by a far more concerned expression. “But I’ve already got most of that analysis down. I’m just struggling to wrap everything up narratively… Can I talk you through what I have so far?”
“Of course,” Daichi replies, and means it. He settles in more comfortably next to his boyfriend and methodically runs his hands across Suga’s torso as he listens to him talk through each section of the paper (which Daichi can already tell is near-flawless). Art history is relatively alien to Daichi, but Suga makes it all sound so… right. He doesn’t need to know a single thing about Italian Baroque art to understand that Suga is brilliant. To understand that he would listen to Suga talk about anything for as long as he wanted. To understand that he wants to listen to Suga talk about everything for as long as he can.
“...and that’s basically where I’m at right now,” Suga finishes. “It’s… Well. It’s technically done. I could wrap it up here, but it’s not as thoroughly resolved as I’d want.”
“I think your argument is perfect, at least with my limited knowledge of the subject, but I agree that the ending isn’t as satisfying as it could be,” Daichi says, furrowing his brow. “You’ve already connected it to the broader motif of sacred and profane love, so… how about expanding a little more on the historical context of the homoeroticism? I know you’ve already touched on it earlier in the essay, but I think that if you connect it a little more to other depictions of the same theme and the personal relationship between the artist and what’s his face—”
“Caravaggio.”
“Yes. Him. If you connect those a little more, I think you’ll find the right words to wrap everything up in a narratively satisfying way.”
Suga’s mouth works like it’s savoring the words Daichi just spoke, his expression shifting from concern to frustrated focus. Then, all at once, he transforms, his face lighting up and his entire body shifting into a new position, his muscles tensing and relaxing one by one like a wave of shivers, and Daichi knows he’s got it. He definitely knows he’s got it when Suga turns around and grabs Daichi’s face with both hands, his determination visible in his gaze and his excited, radiant grin. “Daichi.”
“Yeah?”
“You. Are so smart. I know you know that, but I need you to remember anyways. And also I am in love with you.”
Daichi smiles against the warmth of Suga’s hands on his cheeks. “I know, babe. I love you too,” he says, before turning his head to press a kiss into Suga’s palm. “And you need to get cracking on that before you forget. Even though you are a genius.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. Hush.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”
“One, yes, I do. Two, doesn’t matter, it works regardless.”
Suga gives Daichi a look that’s somewhere between I hate you, you insufferable bastard and I am going to jump your bones so bad later, which Daichi chooses to interpret as a good thing. “Okay, fine, I’m getting to work. But I hope you don’t think that I’m giving this hoodie back because you helped.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Daichi murmurs teasingly before pressing a kiss to the band-aid on Suga’s knee covering a scrape from practice. He stands up and stretches, his back sore from sitting hunched over on the floor, and gazes down at his boyfriend typing rapidly away at his laptop. A soft smile crosses his face thinking about how damn smart his boyfriend is. He can see the future teacher in Suga’s absorbed expression, can feel the fervor he’s putting into writing this paper in the speed of his fingers flying across the keyboard.
This is what he loves more than anything else—the unrestrained passion of it all. At first glance, Suga seems level-headed and reserved to many, and he certainly can be when it’s needed. But simmering below the surface, Daichi knows that there’s a reservoir of burning intensity, the drive to give everything and then more to each one of his enterprises. Suga puts his all into everything he touches, leaving the fire of his ardency in his wake. Daichi sees it in his every movement, hears it in his every word, feels it in his every touch. And God, he wants to keep feeling that fire for the rest of his life.
Amor vincit omnia. Love conquers all. Sawamura Daichi has been thoroughly conquered, wholly captivated, and rendered utterly helpless by the perfect divinity sitting on his bedroom floor. With any luck—and maybe a little divine intervention—he’ll stay that way for a long, long time.