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It's finals week, and Kojiro doesn't even need to open the door to Kaoru's bedroom to know the sight he is going to be met with. He's known Kaoru long enough to know that when it comes to finals, all desire for Kaoru to take care of himself flies out the window. He doesn't eat properly, doesn't drink enough water, and sure as hell doesn't get enough sleep. His mind is all on studying, all on his finals, and he can't fit anything else in his brain.
Lucky for him, though, he has Kojiro, who really isn't better, considering he's up at midnight before his big final, creaking open Kaoru's door slowly because, if he knows Kaoru like he thinks he does, Kaoru will be passed out on his desk, a mountain of work underneath his body. And, sure enough, when Kojiro opens that door, there Kaoru is, glasses askew, mouth open and drooling onto the hard wood of his desk.
Kojiro sighs. Why does he love this dumbass again?
He walks into the room and places his hand on Kaoru's back, giving him a gentle shake. The last thing he wants to do is wake Kaoru up, but he knows Kaoru will feel much better in the morning if he showers and changes his clothes before he goes to sleep. Kojiro is still too shy to do those things for him. Their relationship is too new, too fresh, and every moment feels like heaven and hell, the bliss of being together and the fear of messing everything up. So, when Kaoru doesn't wake up, Kojiro sighs again, and tries not to think about Kaoru showering or in any state of undress. It's bad for his health.
Like clockwork, he maneuvers his way around Kaoru's desk chair-nothing more than an old piece of shit, in Kojiro's opinion-and works his arms under Kaoru's legs, around his back. As gently as he can, he picks Kaoru up into his arms, stumbling backwards. He's still growing, still not strong enough to carry over a hundred pounds in his arms with ease, but he hopes someday, he will be. He hopes he will be able to hold Kaoru in his arms easily, take him wherever he needs to go.
Kaoru grumbles in his arms, burying his head against Kojiro's shoulder, and something softens in Kojiro's chest. This boy is the smartest person he's ever met and the dumbest. The most innovative, yet overly cautious. Bold and anxious. A walking contradiction. But Kojiro loves every inch of him, with all his flaws and his messiness.
Unconditional love. It's a notion Kojiro didn't understand or know until this moment, when he looks at the sleeping Kaoru in his arms and knows he would do anything for him. Anything in the entire world. Would love him through everything.
It's a feat to carry Kaoru over to his bed, and an even larger feat to pull back Kaoru's bedsheets while still holding his body in his arms, but Kojiro manages. This isn't the first time he's done this, and he's positive it won't be the last. He lays Kaoru in the middle of the bed and lets out a heavy breath, the struggle of the activity causing his chest to burn, before he pulls the bedsheet over Kaoru's body.
It would be easy to slip out of here. All he was here for was to make sure Kaoru went to sleep in a bed, and he's accomplished this mission. But Kaoru looks so cozy, tucked in under the covers, and Kojiro is a weak man. He sighs as he slips off his shirt, leaving him in a white undershirt and a pair of sweatpants, and pulls the covers back, crawling into bed next to Kaoru. There's barely enough room in the bed for both of them, but Kojiro doesn't mind. Can't mind, because it means he gets to keep Kaoru close. He slips one arm under Kaoru's back and pulls him to his chest, the other arm wrapped around his waist. Kaoru, in his sleepy haze, stretches his hand across Kojiro's chest, squeezes the fabric of his undershirt.
Kojiro feels out of place and at home. Like a creep, and like this is where he's supposed to be. He swallows thickly, and he realizes his mistake because it's far past midnight and Kojiro isn't getting any sleep tonight. Not with Kaoru lying next to him like this. Not when he has the golden opportunity to see Kaoru, for once, completely relaxed and at ease. He presses a kiss to Kaoru's forehead and smiles against the soft skin, giving him a gentle squeeze.
"I love you, Kaoru," he mumbles, the first time he's ever said the words out loud. He's too nervous, too scared of messing everything up, everything he's wanted for so long. But here, in the dead of the night with Kaoru in his arms, confessing his true feelings is the easiest thing in the world. He kisses Kaoru's forehead again before lying flat on his back, closing his eyes to at least say that he tried. But Kaoru shifts in his arms again, and Kojiro feels the squeeze of Kaoru's fist in his shirt again, and he has to take one final peak.
So pretty. Kaoru is so pretty that Kojiro can't stop a smile and a blush. He closes his eyes again, vainly, but it's difficult. It's all so difficult.
And Kaoru, the bastard, makes it even worse when he mumbles, so quiet Kojiro could've missed it, "Love you, Ko."
Kojiro doesn't-can't-sleep at all that night.