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It started when they got drunk together after a mission and Yamato woke up the next morning hungover and completely naked in Asuma’s bed.
His first instinct was to panic. His second, when Asuma entered the room in just his underwear carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, was to hide under the blankets.
“Good morning.”
Asuma sat down on the bed and tried to pull the blanket off of him but Yamato held on tight, keeping his face completely hidden. Asuma laughed softly.
“You weren’t so shy last night, captain.”
Yamato made an agonised sound and tried to roll himself up in the sheets like a burrito.
Asuma settled onto the bed to drink his coffee and Yamato quickly started to sweat beneath the stifling blankets. He realised that Asuma wasn’t going to leave him to die of embarrassment in peace and, considering that he was in Asuma’s bedroom, he couldn’t hide there forever. Before very long he was forced to emerge and bashfully accept the offered beverage.
Asuma’s hazel eyes swept over his face and a small smile graced his lips.
“You doing alright?”
Yamato grunted in reply and tried to hide his face in his coffee.
When Asuma reached out and stroked his hair back behind his ear he almost dropped the drink into his lap.
“Last night was fun,” Asuma said. “The parts I remember, anyway.”
Yamato risked a glance at him as his cheeks heated up.
“It was,” he said.
“Maybe we could try it again when we’re sober.”
Asuma’s fingers were still playing in his hair and it felt nice. Sitting up in Asuma’s bed drinking coffee together was nice, too. Little by little, Yamato’s embarrassment started to be replaced by a fizzing excitement that made his heart beat faster. Asuma was looking at him with a fond smile that reached all the way to his eyes and Yamato never until that moment would have thought that he and Asuma would ever end up dating but that smile said that they could and Yamato was realising that he wanted to.
“Really?” he asked and hated himself a little for it.
Asuma’s fingers smoothed over his cheek and down to his chin.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Yamato said.
“Well, now you are,” Asuma said with a wink. “Me.”
Yamato burst into uncontrollable laughter, a mix of relief and surprise and the ridiculousness of the line. Asuma ducked his head sheepishly.
“That was a bad one, huh?”
“Pretty bad,” Yamato wheezed, then coughed and tried to hide behind his coffee again. “Um...yes. Okay. Tonight.”
“Yeah?”
Yamato nodded shyly. “Yeah.”
One night had turned into two had turned into every night that week spent in bed together. Yamato was afraid to ask at first if what they had was only sex or something more, but in the end he didn’t have to: nightly hook-ups led to comfortable breakfasts together and breakfasts became lunches which soon led to dinner invitations. Other activities followed, like sparring together and trips to the market where, if he thought nobody was looking, Asuma would grab hold of his hand and squeeze until Yamato had to fake a coughing fit to hide his ridiculous grin.
Now, eight months after it had started, they hardly ever went a day without seeing each other unless one of them was away on a mission.
They were lazing in bed one evening when Asuma tenderly brushed Yamato’s hair off of his sweat-damp forehead and asked:
“You’ve never been loved before, have you?”
Yamato only half heard him, drowsy and content against his bare, warm chest.
“Hm?”
Asuma coaxed his head back and kissed him on the lips; Yamato opened his mouth and the intended chaste kiss turned into something much deeper, a lazy tangling of tongues as they both enjoyed their afterglow. After a minute or two, Yamato frowned and drew back.
“What did you say?”
“You’ve never been loved,” Asuma repeated, holding the other man against his body. “I can tell.”
Yamato huffed and rolled onto his back. “That’s quite a thing to say.”
“I’m sorry,” Asuma said, chasing after him to sprawl over his chest. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“I didn’t realise you thought my performance was so terrible,” Yamato continued. “You weren’t my first, you know.”
“I didn’t say I was your first,” Asuma said. “Not for sex, anyway. That isn’t what I meant.”
Yamato looked up at him, all trace of sleepiness now gone from his wide, dark eyes.
“Then what?”
Asuma propped himself on one elbow while his other hand gently roamed over Yamato’s bare skin.
“The first time I said I wanted to see you again, you could hardly believe it. The whole of that first month I know you wanted to ask me if it was just sex or if we were dating, but you never did. Every time I kiss you it feels like you’re...I don’t know. Surprised, somehow. Like you still can’t believe that I really want to.”
“And those things bother you?”
Yamato tried to sit up but Asuma kept him pinned with his hand splayed over his chest.
“If you keep putting words in my mouth I’m going to have to put my tongue in yours to keep you quiet.”
It made Yamato smile and broke a lot of the tension between them.
“It isn’t a bad thing,” Asuma said, settling between Yamato’s legs. He folded his arms on top of Yamato’s chest and rested his chin there. “It makes me a little sad sometimes, but it also makes me feel pretty lucky.”
Yamato drifted into his thoughts. He considered his lack of a family. His childhood in Root where he had been systematically stripped of his emotions and taught not to find enjoyment or security in the company of others. His teenage years in ANBU. The fact that his closest friend was Kakashi who steadfastly refused to let anybody get closer than arm’s length.
He thought about where he was now, in a healthy, happy, committed relationship with the unlikeliest of partners. It was something that, even a year ago, he wouldn’t have predicted for himself.
He hadn’t ever been loved before, Asuma was right, but he’d never missed it or even realised it until now.
“So what are you saying?” Yamato asked, reaching up to slide his fingers through Asuma’s hair, enjoying the weight of his partner’s body on top of him. “That you love me?”
Asuma smiled in a way that started off small but quickly spread to brighten his whole face.
“I’m pretty sure I’m on the road to it, yeah.”
Warmth bloomed in Yamato’s chest like a flower opening with the sunrise and he found himself smiling, too.
Sarutobi Asuma, in love with him. A year ago it would have seemed preposterous but now it was the next step on the journey that the two of them were taking together.
He was fairly sure he was falling in love with Asuma, too.
“In that case,” Yamato said, “will you tell me when you get there?”
Asuma unfolded his arms and pinched Yamato’s cheek, laughing when it made him scowl.
“You’ll be the first to know,” he promised.