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Wakatoshi love mornings. He enjoys waking up at the same time every day, taking a ridiculously fast shower, making his coffee a very specific way (almost black - just a hint of sugar and cream), and of course making sure to water all the plants in his apartment. Every morning has gone exactly the same way for the last couple years since he moved into his small apartment. Well, for the most part, at least. While Wakatoshi loves mornings, feels rejuvenated and refreshed when he steps into the morning sun on his balcony, Satori is a different story.
He’s in the middle of finishing up breakfast for both him and Satori (another part of his daily routine) when he checks the clock on the wall and notices it’s about ten minutes past the time the redhead usually emerges from their bedroom, a blanket draped around his shoulders and his eyes nearly closed, still adjusting to the sunlight coming through all the windows.
He would be concerned if not for the fact that this isn’t the first time this has happened, and it most certainly won’t be the last. If there’s one thing Wakatoshi has learned from living with Satori for a couple of years now, it’s that his mood in the morning varies depending on the day.
Wakatoshi finishes breakfast, neatly placing stacks of pancakes on two plates before setting them on their small dining table. When he’s done, and Satori still hasn’t shown himself, he decides it’ll be one of those mornings where he needs a little coaxing. Not that Wakatoshi minds. While he doesn’t exactly understand Satori’s dislike of mornings, he accepts it, because Satori accepts his love of mornings without hesitation.
Making his way into their small bedroom, he can’t help but smile just a bit at the sight in front of him. Satori is curled up, turned away from the window even though the sunshine still hits the side of his face. He has the deep purple comforter pulled up to his mouth, as if shielding his entire body from the light coming through the window. Wakatoshi can tell he isn’t entirely asleep, because his eyes are screwed shut so tightly that it almost looks painful.
Walking over to the bed in just a few large strides, he carefully takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, making sure not to sit on the redhead. He considers gently shaking him awake immediately but pauses, deciding to take a moment to study and appreciate Satori’s features. The sunlight does wonders for his hair, bringing out all the different shades of red, maroon, and almost-orange, reminding him of red marigolds and poppies. Wakatoshi feels a sudden urge to run his fingers through it, but refrains. Instead he continues staring, aware that he could probably count the soft freckles adorning Satori’s cheeks and nose if he wanted to. He’s probably done it before, if he’s honest.
It’s so quiet he can hear Satori’s breathing, and in combination with the sound of birds chirping outside their window and the warmth coming through the glass hitting his back, it’s the closest thing to tranquility that Wakatoshi can think of. He almost doesn’t want to interrupt it, but he’s also hungry and ready to eat breakfast.
“Satori,” his own voice, low and gentle, cuts through the silence, but the person he’s calling doesn’t even stir.
He extends his arm, placing it on Satori’s blanket-covered shoulder and shaking just a bit, “Satori,” he repeats, “Breakfast is ready and on the table.”
The redhead finally cracks his eyes open just a bit, but immediately rolls onto his stomach. He stuffs his face into the pillow beneath him and and groans before giving a muffled, “Wakatoshiiiiii...”
“Breakfast will get cold if we don’t go eat soon,” Wakatoshi states, moving his hand to thread his fingers through Satori’s messy hair, “I made pancakes, like you asked last night.”
There’s a moment of silence before he rolls over again and eventually pulls himself up into a seated position, eyeing the male in front of him with droopy, tired eyes. Wakatoshi feels a very familiar and warm sensation fill his body, and he’s fully aware it isn’t from the sunlight coming through the window.
“Wakatoshi, how do you do it?” the redhead grumbles before yawning.
“How do I do what?”
Satori stares at him for a moment, trying to come up with words, “Nevermind,” he waves a hand dismissively, “I’m too tired to think right now. I need food… and coffee…”
“Well, there’s food on the table. And I’ll start your coffee, but it would probably be best if you get up before you fall asleep again.”
“Alright, alright,” pushing the covers off of himself, he stretches his arms above his head before extending one and lacing his fingers with Wakatoshi’s, “I’ll brush my teeth and be out in a minute, promise.”
Wakatoshi raises the hand up to his mouth, gently pressing his lips to it before responding, “You’ve said that before and then ended up going back to sleep.”
“I knooow,” Satori whines, “but look, I swear this time, okay?”
“Alright,” Wakatoshi gives a brief nod before standing up, “I assume you want your coffee the same as always?”
“Yes please!” he grins, “Thank you, ‘Toshi!”
Leaving the room, he returns to the kitchen and begins making Satori a fresh cup of coffee. He makes it the same as always, with so much cream and sugar that he’s not sure why he even bothers with the coffee part. By the time he’s finished and brings the mug to the dining table, Satori has emerged from their bedroom and looks much more awake now. His hair is still a bit messy, but his eyes are alert and have returned to their usual bright and expressive state. He takes a seat at the table, eyeing the pancakes in front of him with excitement, “This looks so good!”
“You’ve had my pancakes several times,” Wakatoshi observes, taking a seat as well, “I made them the same way, so they should taste the same.”
Satori laughs, a light and gentle sound as opposed to his normal, loud, almost-cackles. It’s a laugh he uses when he’s content and calm, and by extension, it makes Wakatoshi happy as well. “Just another reason why you’re amazing, Wakatoshi!”
Wakatoshi is used to being showered in compliments by Satori, and Satori is used to his reaction usually being a simple smile, so he doesn’t feel the need to respond. They both continue eating, Satori excitedly talking about various shows or movies he thinks they could try and watch together, or events going on around the city that he wants to go to. Wakatoshi listens to every word he says, like always, but he remains silent for the most part, he’s content just focusing on Satori’s joyful voice.
After they’ve both finished eating, Wakatoshi collects their dishes and places them in the dishwasher. When he looks up he finds Satori is staring at him from the table, a genuine look of curiosity filling his face. He recognizes it as the same look he gave him when they first met, as if he’s trying to figure him out.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
Satori drums his fingers on the table, “Just thinking about that question I was going to ask you earlier...” when Wakatoshi continues watching him, blinking curiously, he continues, “How do you do it? How do you get the motivation to get up so early every morning and make breakfast for us?”
Wakatoshi repeats the question in his mind a few times. It isn’t so much about motivation as it is that he genuinely enjoys the routine. He’s been doing it for so long that it feels almost like a habit.
“It’s my routine. I like having a routine.”
“That makes sense,” Satori nods, but continues prodding, “but that doesn’t answer why you always include me in everything, like breakfast and making coffee.”
Wakatoshi is confused, he assumes he’s made it clear by now that he does these things because he cares about Satori and wants him to enjoy mornings with him, even though he’s fully aware he hates mornings with a passion. It makes him laugh though, because Satori has often told him it’s hard to explain things like feelings to him. However, Wakatoshi has observed over the years that Satori is also a little dense sometimes when it comes to these things.
“I do these things because I love you, Satori.”
There’s silence for a moment after Satori nearly drops his coffee mug. This isn’t the first time Wakatoshi has said those three words to him, but they still hit him with so much power that he feels he might spontaneously combust, every single time. Wakatoshi notices the blush forming across the redhead’s face as he steps closer to the table, grasping one of Satori’s hands in his own. Their fingers fit perfectly between each other.
They just stare at each other for a bit, a situation that some might find awkward, but a situation that they both are extremely familiar and comfortable with. Finally, a soft smile makes its way across Satori’s face as he places his mug on the table and stands up, “I love you too, Wakatoshi. Like… a lot.”
Lifting his free hand up, Wakatoshi places it against Satori’s face, running his thumb along the freckles dusted across his cheek. He meets his gaze, feels that warm sensation fill his body again when he studies the small red irises of his eyes, as intense as always. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed at all since high school.
Wakatoshi leans forward a bit, stopping just short of meeting Satori’s lips with his own. He can feel the redhead’s breath on his as he laughs softly again and mutters, “You gonna kiss me or what, ‘Toshi? I brushed my teeth, no more morning breath.”
And so he does, closing the distance between them while quickly being reminded just how perfectly their lips slot together. Satori squeezes his hand while using his other to reach up, threading his fingers through the hair at the nape of Wakatoshi’s neck. It’s a gentle kiss, much softer than others they’ve shared, but it’s calm and sweet and Wakatoshi swears he can almost hear both of their heartbeats.
When they do pull away, Satori is grinning from ear to ear, and almost immediately flings his arms around Wakatoshi’s chest. Doing the same and pulling him close against him, Wakatoshi presses a chaste kiss to Satori’s neck, and feels a sudden need to repeat himself, “I mean it, Satori. I love you.”
“I know Wakatoshi,” Satori mumbles, nuzzling against his shoulder, “and I love you too.”
Wakatoshi isn’t sure how long they stay like this, holding on to each other while the sunlight continues shining through the balcony’s glass door, but it’s quiet again, and he can hear the birds outside once more. It’s tranquil, and he’s happy just standing here like this. He feels himself smiling again as he buries his face into Satori’s neck. He realizes that regardless of Satori’s shifting mood every morning, regardless of how much coaxing he might require sometimes, he doesn’t mind a bit. There’s no one else in the world that he would rather share his morning routine with for the rest of his life.