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It happens when Kai is about to fall asleep, his head planted on Damon’s lap while his fiancée studies for his upcoming debate on his tablet and occasionally trails his fingers through Kai’s hair, twisting and loosening strands. Kai blinks groggily, staring up at Damon’s intense focused expression and trying not to make a comment about it or some random bullshit that crosses his brain (he does not have much willpower or brainpower to prevent the latter, and Damon has grown to begrudgingly accept this as a part of his studying rituals). It’s a typical night, all things considered.
Except, as his eyes are closed and his breathing begins to level out, Kai feels Damon’s breath tickle his forehead as his fiancée presses a kiss on his skin, and says quietly, “Je t’aime chaque jour davantage, mon chéri. Dors bien.”
Kai’s eyes shoot open, sleepiness evaporating from his body, and Damon’s eyes widen in surprise as he pulls himself back, clearing his throat. Kai’s heart pounds in his chest like a caged beast, and he can’t help but sputter out, “Um, hello, what was that? Was that really you?”
It has to be Damon, as much as it boggles his brain, who just spoke in fluent French to Kai. And he picked up some pretty romantic words in there, which confirms why Damon is turning a lovely shade of crimson.
“I thought you were asleep,” he mutters, poorly distracting from the original question. His tablet is now set aside on his nightstand, no longer in his hands. Kai sits up in bed, jabbing a finger into Damon’s chest.
“You—you ass!” Kai shouts, voice cracking in dismay. “We’ve been together, like, two years. Been on countless dates, met each other’s families, currently planning our future together, and you weren’t gonna tell me you can speak French too?”
Damon bristles at the tone shift, crossing his arms over their quilted blanket. He replies evenly, “I speak Japanese as well.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard you around your parents, but why would you need to know French? You never even acted like you knew what I was saying when I speak Spanish, and they’re pretty similar languages,” Kai says, exasperated. “I’m not actually angry but you gotta understand how this is whack AF.”
Damon, in turn, looks exasperated by Kai’s vocalization of abbreviations. He frowns. “There’s not much to it. I took French classes in high school, and I got an opportunity to go to France to debate.”
“Why are you acting like it’s not a big deal? Did you debate in French?” Kai asks eagerly, doing what he does best: digging his claws into every little tidbit about Damon and absorbing it all, basking in the glory of being one of the few to break down Damon’s walls.
“…Somewhat, but don’t look it up —”
Kai swipes his phone from nearby and is already plugging in any information possible to see if Damon’s debate was recorded somewhere by someone .
“Ugh. Kai, I’m not a fluent speaker,” Damon warns, and cringes hearing his own voice play from Kai’s phone. “Can’t this wait?”
“Nu uh uh, it’s already waited two years,” Kai sing-songs, holding his phone away from Damon’s sneaky grabby hands. He knows that his fiancée will take any opportunity to swipe the phone away from him.
“Good grief,” Damon mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He allows Kai to view it nonetheless, and Kai is grinning ear-to-ear.
“Haha, you started talking all of a sudden in English,” Kai points out, laughing. “Like, one moment it’s French and the next, bam! Some of them looked so confused.”
“Va te faire foutre,” Damon says, his tone snippy as he glances away. “I told you not to watch it. It was embarrassing.”
“Meanie!” Kai exclaims, eyes welling up with exaggerated tears. “I don’t know what you said but it sounded mean.”
“And now the only things I’ll say in French to you will be mean,” Damon grumbles, ignoring the fake tears as he curls up under the blankets. He’s learned to tell when Kai is genuinely upset versus him being a dramatic idiot. “Can we go to bed now?”
Kai scooches closer until he’s pressed against Damon’s backside, laying his arm over his partner’s chest. Warmth emits from Damon but Kai knows he’s freezing when he knocks his foot against Damon’s, quickly pulling it away whenever he feels how frigid it is. While being a skinny twink has its benefits (he’s hot, he looks good, and did he mention how attractive he is…), he can’t maintain his body temperature to save his life. Kai, on the other hand, struggles to snuggle him during the whole night. It gets way too suffocating – he’s like a heater cranked up on high pointed directly at him – and Kai ends up kicking off the blankets to cool down, which in turn pisses off Damon because he wakes up covered in goosebumps shivering. So if they cuddle, it’s usually until one of them goes to bed first and the other person separates for the night. Usually, Damon finds his way back over to Kai one way or another. For all his teasing, he’s the clingy one, Kai believes. And he knows just what to do to get his way.
As Damon starts to drift off, Kai whispers in his ear, “I’ll spoon you all night if you say you love me in all three languages.”
“Wha?” Damon utters groggily. He blinks, his brain taking a moment to compute Kai’s request, then scowls. “You woke me up for this?”
“Hey, you woke me up earlier. Fair’s fair,” Kai says all-too-cheerfully. He starts to pull away. “But if you’re gonna go to bed, I guess I’ll move away…”
Damon’s scowl deepens. “You are insufferable.”
Kai rolls over in response.
“Ugh,” Damon groans. “Fine. Come back over here.”
Kai smiles and rolls back over to Damon. “If you’re going to use my body, you can at least tell me you love me.”
“You don’t have to word it like that,” Damon mutters, a pinkish glow on his face. “Okay, are you ready to be quiet and go to bed?”
“I will be when you say the magic words,” Kai teases him.
Damon lets out an audible sigh, then quietly says, “Aishiteru… Je t’aime de tout mon cœur…” He pauses, adding gently, “I love you. But those two phrases mean more than that, it’s like… a deep love. I– Are you crying?” His gentle tone turns alarmed.
“M-maybe,” Kai mumbles, wiping at his eyes. His face is reddening, a cocktail of embarrassment and getting all emotional. He squeezes onto Damon harder and feels the desire to respond in his own love language, “Yo te amo más, Damie.”
“Dork,” Damon says with a smile that Kai can hear in his voice, so he decides not to pout about it this time. “Goodnight, Kai.”
Kai yawns into Damon’s shoulder. “G’night.”
And, after that night, Damon was surprised that Kai kept Damon’s knowledge of French to himself instead of blurting it out to every person they knew. What Kai withheld was that he wanted the language of love all to himself, for only him to see and hear this side of Damon and no one else.
He’s a bit possessive in that way.