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Please be at home, please be at home, please be at home, Maki chants in his head as he takes the metro, as he walks to his and Yuma’s apartment, as he presses the elevator button, as enters their door code, as he takes off his shoes, and even as he walks to their shared bedroom. There is nothing that could make this day any worse than if he does not get this one tiny little wish fulfilled. The constant chanting and praying stops abruptly when he sees that his hopes have indeed been answered, right when he spots Yuma lounging around lazily on their bed playing Animal Crossing on his Switch. Wordlessly, he drops his bag on the floor before plopping his tall, broad, and muscled self right on top of said boy with zero warning or regard for his boyfriend’s game.
“You’re ba- Oof!” Yuma grunts as Maki drops his whole weight on him unexpectedly. “What in the world-”
Yuma is about to open his mouth to scold Maki cause what the hell was that, does he not know that he’s no longer fourteen and three apples tall, and that Yuma is not built for this? But the words dissipate in his throat when Maki tucks his head against Yuma’s neck, nuzzling it gently and taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself down. His arms are also already wounding themselves around Yuma’s neck and he’s trying to fold himself up as small as possible, and Yuma knows him well enough to know that there is only one explanation for this behavior. A bad day, then.
Yuma has long gotten used to Maki’s puppy-like tendencies, the spontaneous cuddling and overwhelming bouts of physical affection most of all, seeing how he’s subjected to it all the time even before they made their relationship official. Maki is what one would call “touchy-feely” on a good day, but it only gets worse if things do not go his way, and it seems like today was one of those days.
But Yuma wouldn’t be Yuma without being at least a little tsundere. “Yah, don’t you see that there’s so much more space on the bed if you would just roll over?”
“Just let me hug you for a bit, hyung.” Maki mumbles, the clarity of his voice and words compromised by the lack of space between Maki’s lips and the nape of Yuma’s neck. But even without Maki asking and before he completes his sentence, Yuma is already turning off his game console to wrap his own arms around Maki’s back, squeezing him a little as a means to bring some much needed comfort. He feels a ghost of a smile press against his skin at the action, and Yuma can’t help the twitch of his own lips that triggers like an automatic response. His giant puppy is really so silly, sometimes.
“What happened, hm?” Yuma asks softly, long fingers tangling themselves in Maki’s hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” Maki mutters, and Yuma feels more than hears it. But that’s fine, and he says so as much.
“Later, then.”
Maki takes another deep breath and tries to get even closer to Yuma, as if trying to crawl under his boyfriend’s skin to comfortably make himself a home down where no one and nothing could get to him. Yuma could relate. He thinks he’d probably pick to live under Maki’s inexplicably giant biceps, if given the choice. Or under the rock solid six-pack abdomen that looks like it’s been precisely designed by Greek sculptors. Or under the strong muscled thigh that can do flawless squats even with Yuma in Maki’s arms. Hmmm. So many choices, so little time.
Normally, Yuma would gladly let Maki squish him under different (read: less clothing and more sexually satisfying) circumstances, but right now it is neither and he finds it rather difficult to catch his breath when there’s an oversized golden retriever hindering his lung movement. “Maki, you gotta let me breathe.”
Maki rolls himself off of Yuma without a complaint, but with the way their arms are still wound around each other, Yuma ends up rolling over with it and they’re now lying on their sides facing each other, Maki’s face still not leaving his neck. Yuma laughs under his breath.
“Let me leave for a minute, will you?” Yuma prompts, squeezing Maki once before letting go and unlatching Maki’s arms from around him.
Maki pouts to show his dissatisfaction but doesn’t argue. Obviously he knows that he can’t just keep Yuma trapped under him for an indefinite amount of time no matter how great the temptation, because the man needs food and water and the bathroom and his trusty Switch and the daily gossip sessions with Harua and most of all, the weekly free dinner from Fuma. Yuma steps out of his arms and walks out of the room, so Maki grabs Yuma’s pillow to use as an unworthy replacement.
It’s an expensive pillow, Maki knows, one that he and Yuma received as a matching set from Nicholas and Euijoo when they moved in together. They said it was the most comfortable kind of pillow, the kind that would make them feel like they slept a full eight hours despite only getting three due to their, ahem, nightly activities. Maki had given Nicholas a good pillow hit for the comment. Euijoo he let slide, because Byun Euijoo deserves nothing but a gentle arm tap for any slights that may happen in his vicinity, all of which are almost positively due to Nico’s rage-baiting tendencies (but he also knows that Nicholas is the world’s best gift-giver, so it kind of evens itself out, and Maki loves him for it).
But no matter how fancy, the pillow isn’t doing much for him now — not compared to the solid feel of Yuma’s body under his, the warmth that radiates off of him, or the comforting floral and citrusy scent of Yuma’s go-to Diptyque perfume — but it will have to do for the time being.
Maki doesn’t know how long Yuma was gone because despite the fact that it may have felt like at least four hours, realistically it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. But when he comes back to the room, he’s carrying a steaming bowl of something in one hand and a glass of strawberry latte in the other. Maki sits up to receive the offered bowl and immediately the hearty aroma of homemade soup overwhelms his senses.
“Samgyetang?” Maki guesses, though he knows he won’t mistake one of his favorite foods for anything else, as familiar to him as the back of his hand. “Where did you get this?”
“What makes you think I didn’t make it?”
Maki raises a teasing brow in his direction, and Yuma scowls in jest before setting the glass he’s holding on the bedside table.
“Taki dropped it off earlier. Apparently he was following a new recipe and it made way more than he could finish.”
Ever since (his namesake, close friend, and next door neighbor) Taki started learning to cook a couple months back, there hasn’t been a week where he and Yuma don’t receive an extra serving of whatever it is he decided to whip up. Maki actually suspects that Taki purposely makes extra servings just so he could share it with their friend group because they are famously terrible cooks aside from Maki himself, but he just can’t prove it yet.
“This is so good,” Maki says appreciatively after the first sip, “I hav-”
“You haven’t eaten all day, I know.” Yuma says dryly, unimpressed.
“How did you know?”
“I know because today is Thursday, which means you only have half an hour between your classes at noon but they’re on opposite sides of campus, so when you forget to buy food in the morning you don’t have time to stop and eat at all.”
“Oh.” Leave it to Yuma to be so nonchalant about the fact that he’s practically memorized Maki’s schedule even without Maki knowing. But he also wouldn’t put it past Yuma to -
“And that’s why you need to listen to me and stop forgetting to buy lunch, for fuck’s sake.”
- to scold Maki whenever he gets the chance. As expected.
“I know, hyung,”
“And yet?”
“I know.”
Yuma huffs. “Fine. It’s good that you know.”
Maki stops inhaling the soup for a second to reach out and grab his latte, only to find Yuma already holding it out for him. He knows Maki so well it’s kind of scary, sometimes. But years of poorly disguised situationship could do that to someone, so Maki smiles his gratitude and takes it.
“This latte is perfect.”
“Obviously. I made it, after all.”
“Right,” Maki nods in agreement, “everything you make will always end up perfect. Obviously.”
Maki is about to have another spoonful of the chicken soup when he sees Yuma open his mouth expectantly next to him. The younger boy laughs under his breath and feeds it to his boyfriend instead, smiling when Yuma makes a little happy noise as he swallows it down.
“How could you eat that by yourself and not offer me some,” Yuma says accusingly now that he knows the food is to his tastes, “I heated it up for you with my own hands and this is the thanks I get?”
Maki knows that the lighthearted teasing is Yuma’s surefire way of taking his mind off of ugly and heavy things that plagues Maki so, and he appreciates the effort way more than he could possibly express but he’s sure as hell going to try, because this domestic act of back-and-forth bickering is exactly what he needs after a long and shitty day. He thinks he could get used to having this for the rest of his life, though he won’t say that just yet.
“I appreciate you so much, Yuma-hyung,” Maki says earnestly, and an accompanying smile quickly follows the sentiment. Immediately Maki can tell that Yuma is taken aback by the sincerity because he was expecting an equal teasing in return for his quips, but it is not Maki’s fault that Yuma can never quite seem to accept a spontaneous heartfelt compliment, no matter how often Maki gives them to him in the one year they’ve been together. So he shall keep on doing it, regardless of whether or not his boyfriend can accept them without deflecting. Maybe one day it will happen.
“What are you even talking about, you silly puppy.”
But today is obviously not that day, and that is fine. Maki can easily double down, no problem.
“You’re nice to me, hyung. I’m grateful for that. And for you.”
The small smile on Yuma’s face that he tries so hard to hide is a testament to how much he loves the acknowledgment and praise, even though he would sooner catch a bug with his bare hands before admitting to it. But that’s alright by Maki, because he’s one of the only people on Earth who knows this about Yuma, and that makes him feel more powerful than anyone.
“Stop saying nonsense,” Yuma replies in what he deems to be a dismissive tone, but Maki can suspect the underlying satisfaction in his voice.
“It’s not nonsense though,” Maki tells him, forcing their eyes to meet so he could see how much he means it. “That’s really how I feel.”
Instead of responding, Yuma chooses to grab the now-empty bowl from Maki’s hand to place it on the bedside table next to his drink to distract himself, and Maki lets him do so.
“Are you feeling better now?” Yuma asks after he hands Maki his drink to stop him from continuing the conversation, and he watches as the boy gulps the rest of the beverage down in record time.
“Yes, all thanks to you,” Maki tries again, and Yuma shakes his head in disbelief.
“Stop that,” he chides, unable to stop the warmth rising to his chest, “if you don’t stop teasing me I’ll bite you in your sleep.”
“You do that already anyway, though?” Maki points out, and he tugs at the collar of his shirt to show Yuma a fresh purple lovebite on his collarbone, a result of last night’s prolonged make out session.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mhm.” Maki hums teasingly, “then I’m sure you also know absolutely nothing about these ones.”
Yuma can only watch helplessly as Maki lifts his shirt up to reveal countless bruises and bites all along his torso, dotted generously like purple constellations on his otherwise unmarred skin.
“Nope. Zero clue.” Yuma tries to shake his head, though the way his eyes are glued to the inhumanely perfect curve of Maki’s abs make his movement somewhat limited.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Maki pulls his shirt back down before Yuma decides to take the ab reveal as a seduction tactic and/or foreplay like he has done numerous times before, when Maki was open to such advances. The chances for that happening are slim right now, because Yuma would never make the moves on him when he’s so obviously down on himself, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful with showing an excessive amount of skin around his horny cat of a boyfriend.
“Too bad,” Yuma comments offhandedly, “I was kind of enjoying the view.”
Maki is laughing now, the weight in his chest slowly easing from the compliment disguised as a sexually charged jab.
“Fine,” Maki says, feigning surrender, “I’ll let you enjoy them if you’d come back here and cuddle me.”
This offer, Yuma does not have to think twice about. He quickly gets back on the bed and assumes his usual position of lying his head on Maki’s arm while wrapping an arm around his waist, then tangling their legs together until it’s impossible to see which limb belongs to whom if not for their obviously differing tastes in clothing. Yuma’s fingers then move under Maki’s shirt just enough to splay his hand across the well-defined abdomen, but he makes no further advances.
“Happy now?” Maki asks in amusement, and Yuma makes a noise of acquiescence.
“Now it’s your turn,” Yuma whispers after a few silent seconds, the walls he usually put up during the day coming down easily in the quiet of their bedroom and the safety of their home.
“My turn to what?”
“Be happy,” Yuma answers easily, voice low and comforting, but just persuasive enough to make Maki want to talk. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Somehow, when surrounded by the subtle sunset-orange glow coming through from the window, the low buzzing of their air conditioner, and the familiar warmth of Yuma’s body pressing against his own, it’s easy for Maki to let all his troubles out in the open.
“Hyung, I don’t know if I did the right thing, choosing to study architecture just to appease my parents,” Maki starts, and even though he tries to control it, he can feel his voice breaking just a little bit. “I mean, what I wanted to study was music production. And even now, after four semesters, I still have no interest in architecture, despite what my parents said would happen. Is it too late for me? What can I even do, at this point? Do you think I should give up?”
“What are you even saying, you ridiculous boy,” Yuma says sharply but not unkindly, giving Maki a gentle squeeze as he does so to take some of the edge off. “You are nineteen years old. Nothing is too late for you. Your life is literally only just beginning.”
“So you’re saying I can still start over and study what I like?”
“As many times as you’d like.”
“Do you think my parents would be okay with it?”
“Hmm.” Yuma begins to subconsciously pat Maki’s tummy as he thinks about an appropriate response. “I don’t know your parents well enough to say for certain, but I think if it were me I’d want my child to be happy.”
“I just don’t want them to be disappointed in me.”
“They won’t. You’ve heard how they talk about you. They love you and they mean well.”
“But still…”
“Maybe you can have a real conversation with them when you’re ready and make your case. I’ll even be there if you need me.”
“And you think I can handle it, no matter what the outcome will be?”
Yuma nods.
“You think so?”
“I know so.” Yuma is speaking so matter-of-factly that it leaves no room for argument.
“And you are never wrong.”
“Never.”
“Because you know everything.”
“I do.”
“Because you’re so old and wise?”
Yuma pokes Maki’s waist as a response to the teasing. “I am two years older than you!”
“Yes, hyung-nim,” Maki says, lowering his voice to finally give Yuma a taste of his own medicine. “Forgive me for my ignorance, hyung-nim.”
“Yah!” Yuma shrieks indignantly, pushing Maki away as he tries to roll over to get away from his tight embrace. “See if I ever comfort you again, you big baby.”
Maki laughs once more as he holds on to Yuma even tighter to render the older boy motionless, because despite how often Yuma goes to the gym nowadays, Maki can still easily manhandle him to both of their absolute delights.
“Aww, don’t say that,” Maki grins, and Yuma has the sudden urge to kiss him stupid. “I know you’ll do this again tomorrow, if you think I need it.”
And Yuma definitely would, without even a sliver of a doubt. He would do it one, ten, a hundred, a thousand, or even a hundred thousand times more, if he thinks for a minute that Maki needs it. Not that he would ever say as much.
Instead, what comes out of his mouth is: “Nope. That was the last time I’ll ever be nice to you. Do not ever talk to me again.”
The sound of Maki’s infectious giggling and playful whining quickly fills every nook and cranny of their bedroom. And a second later he feels kisses being pressed relentlessly one after another on his forehead, his cheeks, and his nose, and Yuma feels lighter than air.