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i. hug
Umti doesn’t remember exactly when the tradition started, but they hug each other after every win.
Maybe APA hugged all his former junglers. Maybe he didn’t. Umti finds that he doesn’t really care. He just likes how APA’s face lights up, how he looks at Umti like he’s the most important person to celebrate this small moment of happiness with. He likes the way APA anchors himself to him, two pieces fitting seamlessly together. He likes, at the heart of it, APA.
So if Umti starts sneaking in a kiss behind the scenes, well. Nobody but APA needs to know.
ii. cook
“Solo queue went well today?” APA asks as he walks into the kitchen, smelling kimchi stew.
“It was awful,” Umti corrects, stirring the pot on the stove. “But I think Spawn is right. Volibear is good right now, unfortunately.”
APA grins cheekily. “It’s good for my lane, too,” he says, planting a kiss on Umti’s cheek.
“Of course it is,” Umti sighs, rolling his eyes affectionately. He hands APA a spoon of stew. “How do you like it?”
APA takes a sip, contemplating. “It’s good,” he decides, laying his head lazily against Umti’s shoulder. “I like your ramen better, though.”
iii. hold
APA finds Umti sitting on the couch, staring into space. Umti perks up when he spots him, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You okay?” APA asks quietly, settling down beside him.
“I’m,” Umti chokes on his words a little, looking away, “fine.”
APA opens his arms out, an invitation. For a few moments, Umti hesitates, but eventually he follows him into his arms. “It’s not your fault,” APA reassures, caressing Umti’s cheek and kissing away his tears. You’ll be okay.
Umti sobs, gripping him tightly. APA holds him just as closely, until Umti allows himself to breathe again.
iv. sleep
APA is sleeping on the couch when Umti walks into the facility. He looks surprisingly peaceful, eyes closed and breaths steady. No words are coming out of his mouth, either—a rare occurrence. Umti smiles, kneeling down and threading his fingers through APA’s hair.
“My little precious treasure,” he whispers, nearly brushing their lips together. “My precious baby, APA.”
As he pulls away, a hand tugs on Umti’s shirt, pulling him back. “Coward,” APA murmurs, slowly opening his eyes. “Do it.”
Umti blinks, laughing fondly. “Yessir,” he acquiesces, poking APA’s cheek, and then presses a chaste kiss to his lips.
v. carry
There are normal days, and then there are days when APA says, “Come here,” kidnaps him, and sweeps him into his arms.
“Hey!” Umti protests, but he’s laughing and he does not resist. “What the fuck, Eain.”
There’s only a grin on APA’s face when he pulls Umti in closer and bumps their foreheads together. “I love you,” APA says softly, a quiet, easy admission.
Umti smiles, cupping APA’s face before leaning down and kissing him. “I love you more,” he breathes against his lips, just as easily, and he finds that these kinds of days have become normal, too.