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It’s not as though he’s expecting Yagami to compliment him or anything. That’s not what Sugiura was doing this for. It wasn’t about Yagami, not really. Too much work had gone into this for it to be about him.
Still, there was a part of him that was antsy, waiting for Yagami’s word. Sugiura was proud of Yokohama 99, and he wanted all that effort to be acknowledged.
When they finally had a quiet moment to themselves, Yagami gazed at him softly and smiled, as though that said it all. Sugiura blinked and looked to the floor, acting as though it wasn’t a big deal, even as his heart thumped wildly in his chest.
...Sugiura had hoped that being out here, so far away and independent, might make him a little more level-headed. He’d wanted to be cooler than this. More composed.
But, being around Yagami, it was hard to help it. He still felt the same way he always did.
Sugiura loved him. He loved him in a way that made him return to the most nervous, vulnerable side of himself unwittingly.
No amount of distance, moving on, or self confidence would change that.
Sugiura manages to act as he usually does, most of the time. It’s not as though acting upbeat is entirely unlike him, it’s more akin to manifesting something you wish you could be. Sugiura wants to be easy-going and confident, so he’ll act that way until he has become that way. It’s necessary sometimes. He’s a private investigator now. He has responsibilities to his clients, and to Tsukumo. They support each other, and Sugiura supports him. So, he has to keep trying his best, under these circumstances.
Sugiura deflates, sighing and airing out his grievances when nobody else is around but Yagami, who nods his understanding. This kind of work has its issues as well, and Yagami knows them all too well.
He has a lit cigarette sitting between his lips. “There’s a reason I’m smoking all the time, you know.” He jokes, and Sugiura huffs, amused.
They’re standing side by side, and Yagami leans closer so that their shoulders bump together. Yagami reaches to put an arm over Sugiura’s shoulders, and neither of them look at each other.
Yagami pats his head, stroking his fingers through Sugiura’s hair, and he doesn’t know if he should feel like he’s being babied. That idea frustrates him even if the physical comfort is actually quite nice. Sugiura has only ever wanted to be on equal terms as Yagami.
Though, as much as he would never admit it, he enjoys being spoilt, too.
Yagami’s kisses are sweet, tender, and it’s obvious he’s holding himself back.
Yagami had nowhere to stay in Ijincho, and it hadn’t taken long for Sugiura to offer his place. Tsukumo had pointedly remained quiet.
Yagami stops to take off his shoes at the entrance, catching his breath. Sugiura catches his breath too, even if he doesn’t want to.
“This is nice.” Yagami says, taking off his jacket and slinging it over the back of the armchair in the living room. “You’ve found a nice little place, here.”
Sugiura frowns as he watches Yagami’s gaze dart around his new apartment.
“Stop that.” Sugiura tells him. “Just...”
Please just look at me. Isn’t that what we’re here for?
Sugiura hasn’t got the nerve to say it aloud.
The tone of his voice must have given him away, because Yagami does turn back to look at him. “Alright.”
Yagami’s hands slip under Sugiura’s hoodie, holding his waist possessively as he leans down to mouth at Sugiura’s jaw. “Alright. Yeah.” The veneer falls away, and all they care about is each other. Sugiura’s eyes flutter shut, and he is his vulnerable, shy self again, but Yagami’s hold is so loving, so affectionate, that it feels alright. It’s okay. It’s okay, because it’s him.
His heart is racing again. Yagami must be able to hear it, the way it’s calling out.
“Please,” He puts his arms around Yagami, grips onto his shoulders. “Please.”
Yagami does not hold back, not anymore.
Yagami is cuddling him when he wakes up. If there’s something about Yagami that he never would have guessed from his first impression, it was that he always wanted to cuddle.
Sugiura tried to wiggle out from under him. Heavy.
“Sorry.” Yagami mumbled into his neck, half-asleep. “Stay here a bit?”
“You’re heavy.” He wheezed.
“Stay.” He said. Yagami pressed his face against his skin, inhaling deeply. “I really missed you.”
Sugiura stopped wriggling. “Oh.”
Yagami held him tighter. “Really, really missed you.”
“Oh.” Sugiura repeated dumbly. He reached up and started stroking Yagami’s back. It still felt strange sometimes, to think that the person Sugiura admired – someone he saw as capable, confident, even cool – felt the same way he did sometimes. That Yagami might miss him too, might act more confident than he felt too, might want to hold him tight and never let go too. And, maybe, Yagami wanted to be held and kissed, comforted and spoiled, too. Maybe his heart raced just like Sugiura’s did.
Perhaps Sugiura was fine the way he was, anxious and unsure, hopelessly and embarrassingly in love, trying to hide it all. After all, it seemed like Yagami was the same. And he did love Yagami.
Sugiura decided not to complain again, at least not for now, and made sure to tell Yagami the truth. “I missed you too. I really, really missed you.”
He put his hand in Yagami’s hair, petting him slowly. Yagami shuddered, and Sugiura couldn’t help smiling, in awe of such a thing.