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Toge misses his boyfriend, misses him terribly, really. His scent, fresh and spicy, the kisses the other boy leaves on his skin, bringing chapped lips up to his forehead, cheeks, eyelids, furrowed brow. The arms pulling him in, gently, then squeezing so tight, it's a little hard to breath. The only person, with whom he can sign comfortably, at normal pace, without misunderstandings created in the process.
Text messages or video phonecalls they share not enough, in the slightest. It isn't the same, miles and miles of distance taking its toll on them; they both being engaged in their respective jobs, acts needed to be taken, curses needed to be exorcised, no matter what part of the globe. That only succeeds in making their conversation, swapped wishing of "good morning" and "good night", less frequent, lately.
It's hard, because taking Toge's condition in contribution, his cursed speech ability and limitations it brings to him, there is a special place and meaning to tangible contact, in their relationship.
The fingers crawling up his sides and back, when they are lying next to each other, in quietness and privacy of his room, thumbing at bare skin of his hip, when Yuuta caress it gently, pushing waistband of his shorts, a little lower. To feel, skin against skin. Share some warmth. Their fingers intertwined, legs tangled together, blankets pushed aside, because it's so hot, around them.
He brings his hands up to shield his flushed face, groans loudly. He misses it so much. He misses Yuuta so much.
Also, flowers he can no longer give to the other, even if some of them have bloomed already. He knows the hardship of sending things abroad, what it will pose for it, and even if he could arrange something, order some through website instead, and make them be delivered to Yuuta'a doorstop, it isn't the same. It's not his flowers. Not the ones he himself take care of, Yuuta's face and faces of others, he wants to present with it, flickering behind his closed eyes, as he tends them gently. With fondness, careful and precise movements of his hands.
Sometimes, he likes to send pictures of them though, single ones or arranged in huge bouquets, to Yuuta, with special meaning behind. Mainly of peach roses or pink camellias, of 'how much I miss you', the longing he feels, almost every day, every passing hour.
Every hour of not getting text back. It's hard, but he's anything if patient, he's not a baby either, throwing angry tantrums, because his boyfriend (hard-working and determinated to get stronger, to be capable of protecting them all, the best he can) is leaving him on read, for a few days. Doesn't have time for him, due to exhaustion, his body at its limit, black, deep bags under teal, alerted eyes. How can he be angry with him?
He thinks, however, and he's presisting about reminding his lover of that, that Yuuta needs more sleep, some rest here and there, needs to take better care of himself, really. The other boy usually rolls his eyes, when he thinks Toge can't see it (and he can, he's very observant, thank you very much), stating only "don't worry your pretty, little head about it", which makes him mad, and he pouts a little then, hanging up.
He sighs, takes picture of beautiful, bright zinnias, he picked up before, and send it forward.
to: yuuta ♡
they have already bloomed and you're not here (⌣́_⌣̀)
He puts his phone down, gazes outside the window. The gardens and so many colors in them, spring truning slowly into summer, everything thriving. Living. He spaces out a bit, thoughtful look stretching over his face, his sight soon zeroing in on anemones flowers, peeking at him, from behind their crowns, mockingly.
He huffs a little, murmurs weak "sujiko", underneath his breath. The room around him is still, cold, despite temperature rising outdoor, feeling lonely.
Shut up. (Maybe he needs to cut them out.)
Few hours later, early in the morning, sun waking up alongside him, he gets messaged back. He can't hold back his suprise, he thought it would be at least day or two, maybe Yuuta is having some time off, finally. Maybe the older one wiil be able to take some 'good-night' sleep, now.
from: yuuta ♡
I have some for you, too.
Picture of pretty red poppies, one of them laying in Yuuta's outstretched palm, others scattered on black-haired boy's desk, night-lamp on, attached to it.
His breath hitches a little, eyes getting glassy. He saves it on his phone, hurriedly. Then texts back, because he just woke up, so it means that Yuuta is supposed to be in bed, right now. He sighs, a little fondly.
to: yuuta ♡
stupid boyfriend of mine, go to sleep already (ง'̀-'́)ง
(Maybe he could let them live, after all. For now.)
Yuuta is missing Toge, equally hard, maybe even more. He's that type, always so open about his emotions, wearing his heart on his sleeve.
He tries to make it work, because distance is really nothing, not for someone so intense and fierce in the way of caring for others, loving them. Distance won't tear him and Toge apart, he will see to that.
It is hard, though, sometimes. Mainly due to their respective time zones, so it's usually Toge waking up, when Yuuta is finally catching some welcomed hours of sleep (his boyfriend making sure of it), or vice versa.
Also, both of them working their asses off, bags under his eyes getting more prominent, each day, his hands calloused from holding his sword, swinging it, slashing through curses after curses, day by day.
He really wants to come back home. The sad look in Toge's eyes, when they talk, voices hushed and tender, in front of their phones or laptops screens, and then need to cut it short, responibilities they have, not willing to wait, calling for them.
It haunts him even wide-awake. The slight tremble of other boy's bottom lip, purple orbs getting hazy; he sees it every time, his heart aching, doesn't really address it though, because what's there to say, other than "I'll be back", which was said so many times already, it doesn't seem to hold the same power any more, but when, it's completly different story.
So he tries to cheer his boyfriend up, small things, like showing him pictures of places he visited, food he tried, some flowers, exotic and new to both of them, making Toge's eyes shine in intrest, excitement. Texting him, as often as he can, which isn't that much lately, unfortunately. He have his duties, after all.
He sighs, hot and bright, day-long summer changing into autumn, its slow slumber, quiet tap-tap of first rain, ramming at his windows frames, leaves scattered on the sidewalks, drained out of colors; he just wants to go home already.
It's October 23rd, Toge's birthday, and he's still not beside his beloved, even if he thought he would. Some urgent mission coming up, the last one here, making his leave for Japan postponed. He only bites at his lips hard, decides to suck it up.
He will do it as quickly as he can, and then he will make his way back home. He will shower Toge with all his love and affection, hundreds of kisses, brimming with passion, pent-up desires, touches tender and soft, remembering the feel of fair skin against his, the way goosebumps makes its way to other boy's body, when he strokes at him with his fingers, palms wandering, worshiping, again.
Present him with all kinds of gifts, souvenirs he bought, while staying overseas, different places every month, with all the flowers he can get, he can find, arranged chaotically, because he's not the one good at this, but with the right ones.
Red carnations for his love, burning and deep, sliver of lavenders spelling devotion, pink camellias stating his longing, because he missed the other boy so greatly, it's almost unthinkable. Maybe he adds some pink roses too, standing for joy and gratitude, because he is finally coming back home, his lover waiting for him patiently. Always with love, nothing else but hope, loyalty. Thinking of him.
It's Toge birthday and there's so many things he wants and will do with that, but he's settling for quick text right now, before tossing his phone behind, katana grabbed firmly by his side, cursed energy in him buzzing already, itching, for him to go and get it done.
to: my heart
Happy birthday, baby. There is some things I need to take care of, but I will be home soon.
Toge replies straight away, it's evening now in Japan, so him and their mutual friends, some of the new ones too, he didn't get a chance to know yet, Toge talks about them a lot though, are probably throwing a birthday party. Having fun. Celebrating. And he's not there.
It makes him sick to his stomach, still he opens the message, slight dread drumming in his veins, what if Toge is mad at him, if he just made his boyfriend's day go bad, by sending his previous text-
His out of breath at once, the picture of bright astilbes the first thing he sees, then few words attached under, his heart stopping, for a second, just to start its gallop in his chest; the aftermath.
from: my heart
i'll wait for you
Always, no need for it to be stated.
He's really the luckiest guy in the world, to be gifted with treasure like that. Even if he's not always deserving of it, of Toge's love, gentle but sure. Unwevering. Amethyst eyes softening slightly, little smirk no longer teasing, when his boyfriend catch sight of him, wave at him, while they were still in the same place.
(Sadly, they didn't think that not every 'soon' is soon enough.)
The mission takes longer than he previously assumed, but he's finally off on his way, back to Tokyo, beginning of November, cold wind blowing in his flushed face.
He's quite startled about Toge not texting him in days, when he finally takes hold of his phone, despite one brief text, informing him of his boyfriend heading to take care of some incident occurring in Shibuya, alongside others, then going radio-silence.
He shrugs only, even if shred of panic is already pawning at him, he shakes his head, lets it go, it's not possible, stopping just once to pick up flowers, at some point. The bouquet in his hands is bright, enormous, pretty. It says more than thousands words. I love you, I'm home.
And it almost slips out of his grip, when he's meet with quiet, empty room instead. Deadly silence on the other side of the door. His heart slowing down, weak thump, filled with horror; ears ringing.
Ah, is it really too late?