Work Text:
Serenity.
Yugamu combed his fingers through Takumi’s hair as Takumi laid his head on his lap. A blanket was lying over them, and the room was dark except for the light coming from the television screen.
It was one of the calmest moments of his life. Before being taken to Futurum, most of his time was spent training or completing contracts. The entirety of it, he didn’t care for what he was doing. It was the family’s business, so he certainly couldn’t say no, but there was so much he’d rather do than kill meaninglessly.
And now he was doing the opposite of killing—he had Takumi lying across his legs, sleeping soundly. The movie wasn’t even on anymore, but he didn’t dare wake Takumi up.
This wasn’t the first time he had someone sleeping on him, but that wasn’t calm in the slightest. They were someone he’d eventually kill for a mission.
Takumi, though? His friend. Well, not his friend, really. He didn’t know what word to give him. Whatever their relationship status was, they’d certainly reached a more physically and emotionally affectionate level. While Takumi always acted so awkward around him, Yugamu knew he truly did care for him.
Love was something he couldn’t quite tell if Takumi felt for him. Yugamu certainly felt it, but it was becoming more and more difficult to tell Takumi that he wanted to kill him. At some point, the line between loving him and wanting to kill him was much clearer, rather than muddled like it had been the rest of his life. It didn’t stop him from wanting to be who killed Takumi in the end, but he no longer wanted to try to kill him sooner than he needed to.
He kept running his hands through Takumi’s hair, counting every time Takumi took a breath. The way he breathed as he slept was soothing to Yugamu.
The screen dimmed as it flashed a warning that it would turn off in a couple of minutes, but Yugamu kept his eyes on Takumi’s sleeping face. He had a serene look as well, a smile on his eyelids.
He didn’t want to disturb him, but he also couldn’t keep his hands—or mouth—to himself. Yugamu bent his head down and gave Takumi’s forehead a kiss, lingering there for a second. The hand that was combing through his hair moved to his chest, slipping under his shirt to splay across his ribcage. He counted the number of ribs, satisfied when he found it was a normal amount—which he already knew, but checking made him feel more comfortable.
Yugamu leaned his head back on the sofa, closing his eyes. He could probably sleep like this, but then he wouldn’t be able to feel Takumi in his sleep. The nighttime announcement hadn’t gone off yet, anyways.
He’d known Takumi for only half of the one hundred days they were supposed to spend together, and he already wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. Out of all of the people his age he knew, Takumi was the most down-to-earth, rational but equally emotional, and caring of them. There was nobody else he loved as much as him.
There were so many words he could use to describe Takumi, and yet there were none he could use to describe his relationship to him.
As he continued to lay on the couch, Takumi’s body against him in his arms, he continued to think until he knew what he could say about him.
He was his. That was all he could say, really, but it described their relationship perfectly. They were each-other’s. Takumi loved him, too, and soon enough he would be able to say that to him.
They’d tell each other how they loved the other one.
Yes, this moment was serene, indeed.