He wakes up warm again. It's a strange feeling, after so many nights of waking up alone, for there to suddenly be someone at his side. He never imagined he'd like it so much.
Bright hair, like red roses on fire, peeks out from under the blankets. It seems his boyfriend is still asleep. That's fine, he doesn't really wanna explain why he's awake at 7 am on his day off. Instead, he ducks his head under the covers, curls in closer, and watches Shizuma sleep.
It's not weird, he tells himself. It's not like Shizuma doesn't know that he does this. In fact, Shizuma's woken up several times in the months they've been together to see him studying the way Shizuma breathes. (Always through his nose with tiny adorable snores, unless he's sick; then through his mouth and with much louder snores.) This morning the curtains are pulled back, the air full of Shizuma's little snoring sounds and warm sunlight. It's calm, and peaceful, and everything he'd been so sure he'd never find. His heart is full of love and the knowledge that Shizuma trusts him enough to let him be here, to want him to be here. It's overwhelming. He's so happy. He's going to fuck it up. He gets out of bed, careful not to disturb the love of his life, and goes to make coffee.
He tries to be as quiet as he can, pouring beans, heating water, adding several spoonfuls of sugar and milk to his own coffee and significantly less to Shizuma's, since his boyfriend actually cares about his health, but his thoughts only get more and more afraid.
what if it doesn't work
what if we fight
what if we fall apart
what if he stops loving me and
leaves because I
So he brings both mugs of coffee to Shizuma's bedroom, sets them on the nightstand, and climbs back into bed to wrap himself around Shizuma, planning to go back to sleep and try not to worry so much.
Unfortunately, this completely backfires because, as it turns out, Shizuma is awake.
They stare at each other for several seconds, pale green eyes loving and bemused, gold eyes wide and startled. Shizuma starts to say something, probably, "Good morning," like the well-mannered gentleman he is, but the last time he'd said, "Good morning, " after they'd just woken up, his poor gay heart hadn't been able to take it. And Shizuma has always reacted positively when he's honest about his feelings. So he goes for broke and throws himself at Shizuma, tucking his head underneath Shizuma's chin and tangling their legs together,
hoping trusting that he won't be pushed away.
True to form, Shizuma's arms wrap around him immediately, and smiling lips press to the crown of his head. He doesn't know why he was worried in the first place.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Shizuma asks, predictably, after a minute. This is something he's learning too; that they don't have to know every single thing that the other is thinking. His boyfriend has come such a long way from where they started, Shizuma wanting to know about everything that upset him, and him being too afraid that he would scare Shizuma away. And he's learning to be more and more open with Shizuma too. It's a give-and-take that neither of them are used to, but they're getting better every day. But today's fears and insecurities are so common that he doesn’t want to burden Shizuma with them for the millionth time.
So he shrugs, snuggles closer. Affects a tone of nonchalance and speaks directly to Shizuma's collarbone in the hopes that he won't be heard or understood. "Same old, same old, you know."
It seems fate is determined to ruin his morning, because Shizuma hums like he actually does know, and rolls so he's squished between Shizuma and the bed. Normally he would complain, but right now he likes the physical weight of Shizuma's affection, likes having Shizuma so close he can feel his chest rumble when he says, "I love you," like he means it. So instead he murmurs, "I love you too," and closes his eyes. All around them is sunlight, but it's Shizuma who warms his heart and soul from the inside out.