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Pink-red everywhere. It was everywhere. Rosé, pink, magenta, blush, punch. Valentine’s Day jumped into the eyes of every passer-by with its fixed color concept. Whether you were walking past a flower store or a supermarket. Pink and red everywhere, posters and stickers, ribbons and chocolate wrappers, cards and balloons.
Not to mention the shape of an anatomically incorrect heart.
It was everywhere.
And Yotasuke hated February 14th for it. Even if the day itself wasn’t at fault.
This year, however, he couldn’t avoid it, couldn’t hide behind his Switch and run home as if the world didn’t exist, but only the one in his game. Because this year, he had someone to give his time and attention to ... and he wanted to.
Yatora and he became official when they walked to the shrine together the summer before, in the middle of their second year of university, writing down their wishes and praying for their final exams. Since then, everything had remained completely normal, except that his world was now completely turned upside down.
And it was wonderful. It was so beautiful.
Yotasuke often remembered how they became official. It calmed him down and took his mind off the pink and red Valentine’s Day and back to last summer. Until the moment they watched the few stars in the sky and he heard himself say that they sparkled like Yatora’s eyes.
“What did you just say?”
He blinked, an attempt to pull himself out of his reverie, but once didn’t seem enough. So he blinked some more before he realized what must have just crossed his lips and turned to face his friend. Yatora looked at him, his gaze wide with wonder, but also doubt and ... hope?
Yotasuke himself didn’t understand why these words had escaped his lips. Perhaps he had really only been dreaming, but the way this blond young man was facing him, it had probably been much more than just a few harmless words.
And were they really so harmless?
Yotasuke had opened a door into the unknown. Now he was faced with even more questions than the ones already in his head, created by a golden pair of eyes that always found his as soon as he looked for them himself.
Was there light behind the door? Was it warm there? Did the sun’s rays shine like the blue of Shibuya at dawn?
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, turning his head and staring down the stairs that led to the temple behind them.
It remained quiet for what felt like a few long minutes, none of them saying anything. Only the people around them moved forward, but neither of them could move at all, not their feet, not their hearts. Yotasuke could hear the teenagers laughing, the scent of nature and the food around them wafting through his nose. He felt the summer breeze on his skin and wished it would be a little warmer. He looked ahead and imagined painting this festivity. It looked dreamlike, trees and lanterns and flowers wrapped in the soft colors of the night, illuminated by the moon and the lights. He imagined how he would add a few white rabbits to the picture. With soft brushstrokes, he could bring them to life too, letting them hop up the steps towards them, free and unbound.
There was a soft rustling beside him, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Yatora turn forward as well. “No, of course not,” the latter muttered under his breath, barely audible.
But Yotasuke understood every word, clearly and distinctly, would always understand him. It was his curse; he just couldn’t tear himself away, couldn’t get it out of his head. And it scared him that Yatora might now be disappointed.
He turned to him and spoke in a firm voice. “I said that the stars remind me of the sparkle in your eyes.” Completely perplexed by his change of heart, Yatora looked up, golden-brown meeting blue-gray. “Because whenever you talk about something that excites you or when you paint, your eyes sparkle and they’re so—so big and bright and warm and I could throw something at your head because you always look at me like I mean—” He interrupted himself. Because why had he suddenly become so loud?
While he had to catch his breath, Yatora took a few steps closer and looked at him insistently, analyzing him and it made Yotasuke nervous. “Like you mean ... what?”
Oh no, he was too close. He had gotten way too close, his voice sounded rough and dark and it was the most beautiful thing Yotasuke had ever heard.
He wanted to paint him. Right from this angle, his eyes still shone golden in the light of the lanterns, his hair glistening like fire, his lips just a few centimeters away from the tip of his nose. Yotasuke didn’t look at them. He did not.
His heart was pounding wildly, but his voice remained steadfast. “Like I mean the world to you.”
And Yatora took a moment to answer, remaining silent for a moment, perhaps even holding his breath. Because standing in front of him was his classmate, his rival and his best friend, and this — this was new.
Yotasuke heard as soon as the older one took a shaky breath so he could speak his next thoughts aloud.
“You do.”
Oh.
His cheeks caught fire, or so it felt, and something bubbled up to his chest in his stomach. Never. Never would Yotasuke have expected this. That they would both be standing here one day and ...
Yatora realized how long he had been silent and was overcome with fear. Did he want too much? Had he rejected his friend? Did he—
“You too,” the black-haired man then said.
“Huh?” His heart was pounding in his throat. That can’t be true. No. He didn’t say what I think—
“You mean the world to me too, Tora.”
Once, he had called Yotasuke by a nickname. But he was afraid his best friend would find out about his feelings for him. Now they were standing here and it wasn’t their confessions that told him it was all true. It was the nickname Yotasuke had given him. A small proof of affection and vulnerability, because the young man hardly ever revealed any of his thoughts to him so easily.
They looked each other in the eye and only that. Their cards were face up on the table and Yatora wanted to make the next move.
Before he could think about it, he leaned down. Those dark blue eyes would receive him as soon as he looked up again, he knew that.
Yotasuke heard him sigh after their lips met. He heard him, felt Yatora move closer and his arms, hands, clinging to his back. Don’t stop, he wanted to tell him, but he was busy returning the kiss and running his fingers through that wild, golden hair.
A small sound escaped Yatora as the younger man pulled on a strand of hair. He then launched a counterattack with his teeth, a light nip on Yotasuke’s lower lip before begging for forgiveness with his tongue.
And if he hadn’t gotten so weak-kneed and had to gasp for air, the younger man could have gone on like this all night. But they separated after a while and looked at each other. Yatora held him close, his face cupped in his hands, his thumbs caressing Yotasuke’s rosy cheeks, the moles under his eyes.
Beautiful.
And when he felt how warm Yotasuke’s cheeks became, Yatora understood that he had just said that word out loud.
“Tasuke,” he said quietly, so as not to break the spell. Yotasuke nodded, encouraging him to continue. His blue seemed much more intense in this light. Yatora no longer knew whose heartbeat he perceived so clearly, but he didn’t care. He liked it. “Tasuke, I’m so in love with you.”
With his cheeks bright red, he hid a little more in his scarf as he walked through the hallways of his university. It happened every time he thought about that night they started dating. Yatora loved to remind him of it and tease him a little in the process, but they both knew he just wanted to see how Yotasuke blushed.
As pink as the Valentine’s Day decorations right under his nose. Yotasuke stared unimpressed at the poster on the bulletin board. He didn’t know how Yatora felt about all the hype surrounding Valentine’s Day or White Day, but he couldn’t imagine that it would leave him completely cold either. Surely his boyfriend would want to join in on such special days now that they were official. All the other festive days since they had gotten together had been like this.
And if he was completely honest with himself, Yotasuke was also curious about how such an exchange of small tokens of love would feel that day. He would never ask for anything back from Yatora if he had nothing for him, but he wanted to show his boyfriend that he could be ... public.
Yotasuke’s biggest concern, however, was tradition. Because on Valentine’s Day, it was customary in Japan for women to give men gifts. On White Day, a month later, it was the other way around. So with both of them being men, Yotasuke now wondered whether they should limit themselves to March or simply follow the international holiday.
Despite his thoughts, the box of chocolates was already in his backpack on top of his school supplies, ready to be given to his beloved.
Should I give it to him?
As the students walked through the hallways, they cast questioning and puzzled glances at the young man, whose forehead was stuck to a squeaky pink poster with the, dipped in purple, words: Bake with Heart and Give with Love.
It was a beautiful day and Yatora was sitting with his friends on a bench in the courtyard. His head resting on the table, his arms at his sides, he sagged as if it had been raining down on him for the past few days. Yakumo next to him grinned at his profile while Momoyo poked him in the scalp with a pencil.
“What’s wrong with him that he’s been lying around like a sissy all day?” she asked in amazement.
Kenji tilted his head. “Maybe your chocolate wasn’t enough for him, Momo?”
“Whaaaat?! I bought you extra chocolate and you don’t even appreciate it?! I didn’t get any today!” She snorted out the words, raising her fists in the air in offense.
“Nonsense. He’s just sad that he hasn’t seen his loverboy today,” Yakumo said with a grin. “They’ve been texting all day, but he never seems to get enough.”
Yatora could be heard groaning. “I need to recharge my Tasuke batteries.”
Laughing, Yakumo threw his head back on his neck while the other two started a discussion about nothing relevant to Yatora. Sumō battles, probably. Nothing relevant to him right now. Only his boyfriend. But he wasn’t with him at the moment.
I miss him so much, he thought to himself, pouting a little.
“Tora,” he then heard and jerked his head upwards so quickly that Yakumo feared his neck would break.
“Tasuke!” he sang happily and was standing in front of his boyfriend in the next second. He beamed at him, almost blinding the younger man.
“Oooh, loverboy made it to him, now they’re both saved!”
“Hello, Murai,” Yotasuke said with an unimpressed look past Yatora’s shoulder before turning back to his boyfriend. And only Yatora could see his reserved smile. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Smiling, the older one bit his lip, trying not to grin too much with joy, because his boyfriend had come to him specifically, even though they were busy in different areas of the university today. “I’m glad to see you.”
They looked to Momoyo as she started to pretend to vomit.
Yotasuke rolled his eyes and then looked back into Yatora’s, gone was the annoyed expression, all that was left was this gentleness. “I wanted to give you something.”
“Oh?” Without hesitation, Yatora sat back down on the bench. He knew that his height could sometimes intimidate Yotasuke when he stood almost leaning over him. It had been a few moments when he had observed small signs to that effect and that was why he had silently searched for a solution.
The younger one blinked in surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled something out from behind his back and held it out to Yatora. The latter took a box in his hands, a pink Octagon, and marveled at it like a child finding a present under the Christmas tree.
“Happy ... Happy Valentine’s Day,” Yotasuke then said with furrowed brows. It was all so much and he could feel the eyes of the others on him, but all he could do was stare at Yatora’s feet. He wanted to go through with it. For his boyfriend. And for himself too. “I didn’t know if we were getting each other anything today. And if you don’t have anything, I won’t be mad at you! I just thought that — well ... maybe you’d like it.”
He dared to look up again. The package was open, revealing the small chocolate pralines inside. Yatora looked at him, his gaze insistent and — well, it was just that look. The look that made Yotasuke feel so special.
“Tasuke,” he spoke quietly, „is this really a Valentine’s Day gift?“
“Yes, and it’s the cheesiest wrapping ever—”
“I love it.”
Yotasuke paused. Because he knew Yatora was serious. The way he smiled at him.
Oh, he was so in love.
“Can I give you a hug?”
“What?” asked Yotasuke in surprise. His heart was beating wildly. “Yes, of course, you can.”
Sometimes he forgot how much taller his boyfriend was than him, how perfectly he could nestle his face against his shoulder and breathe in his scent. His hands gripped Yatora’s hem while the older one held him with one hand on the back of his head and the other on his waist. It felt so cozy and warm, a cold February day forgotten and no one around them. Just them in their own little world.
He was so relieved that he liked his gift.
“Tasuke, thank you,” he spoke, his voice soft. “Did you make the chocolate yourself?”
“Yes.”
“And the wrapping, too?”
“Yes.”
“Waah, Tasuke, I only have a small bag of chocolate for you.”
They broke away from each other, still holding on tightly. “What?”
Yatora stroked his hair, tucking a strand behind his left ear. He looked there as he spoke. “Yeah, there just aren’t that many, unfortunately. And they don’t look as ornate as yours.” A small pout. Yotasuke didn’t look at it. He did not.
“I’m sure they taste good.” Most would find his tone expressionless and cold, but his boyfriend always knew exactly what he meant. He was the one who had taken the time to get to know him, to study him, had followed him and had always tried to stay by his side. Yotasuke couldn’t have felt more loved. “Thank you for making them for me.”
The blond man began to grin. “Since you’ve given me such a rich gift,” — Yotasuke frowned at that. — “I suggest you let me cook for you today.”
“I honestly only gave you chocolate and flowers, that’s nothing—”
“Flowers?! You bought me flowers?” Yatora stared at him as if he had been blindsided.
His cheeks caught fire as he thought about the fact that the others had just witnessed their conversation up close. “Yes, but that’s normal, isn’t it?”
A little unsure, he bit his lower lip and looked everywhere but at his boyfriend.
Yatora took his chin between his fingers and turned his head so that he had to look at him again. His tense shoulders relaxed after he saw the love-filled gaze of his counterpart.
Ah, he thought, of course.
“I’ll definitely cook something,” the older one said with a nod to himself.
He can tell when I’m insecure.
Yotasuke eyed him with skepticism. “Neither of us are particularly good at cooking, so how about ordering in?”
He wants me to be happy.
“Okay,” Yatora said, his eyes shining dreamily.
He loves me, truly.
“Okay.”
He didn’t even realize he was smiling, didn’t realize how much time had passed. It could have been weeks. He only saw Yatora.
“Can I kiss you?”
Puzzled, he frowned. “You don’t have to ask.”
Astonished, Yatora widened his eyes, blinked once and when he recognized the honesty in Yotasuke’s eyes, he laughed softly. His eyes formed into crescent moons. He loved seeing him like that. Happy. “Oh, I do love you.”
With a small step to the side, he turned them both so that none of the others could see them kissing his boyfriend. Their lips nuzzled together in gentle movements, a little dreamy, enchanted by their sweet confessions.
“Are you on your way to the studio?”
His blond hair became entangled in Yotasuke’s black hair. He stroked the moles under his eyes, as they captivated him anew every time. How can he be so beautiful?
His whispering voice made his heart beat faster. He nodded cautiously.
“I’ll get my things.”
With a warm smile, he kissed his forehead and turned to pack his things. Yotasuke watched him do so, a smile coming to his own lips.
“Oi, what are you doing?” Yakumo asked loudly. “Are you leaving?”
“Eeeh? Yatoraaa!” Momoyo threw her hands in the air again, the sleeve of her top hanging down over her fingertips. “You wanted to go shopping with us.”
“Sorry, Maki-chan,” Yatora said with a laugh and shouldered his backpack. He then picked up his present with (exaggerated) care. “But I’d much rather be with my boyfriend right now.”
It wasn’t just his lively voice that brooked no argument and showed how much he meant it, but the fact that he answered without hesitation and now turned to Yotasuke. He intertwined their hands, neither of them able to stop smiling softly at each other. With one last look, Yatora waved to their friends before disappearing into the building with the younger man.
By the end of the day, Yotasuke hadn’t really made any progress with his work. But he was enjoying a wonderful evening snuggled up on the couch with his handsome boyfriend, take-out, a bad movie and twinkling fairy lights.
And Yatora looked at him and smiled and it was all he needed at that moment.
Yes, maybe romantic days like this weren’t as bad as he’d always thought.