It was during quiet times like these, when Kuramochi fell asleep while cuddling with Ryousuke, with his face smooth and calm and his arm draped over Ryousuke’s side, his nose whistling as he snored, that Ryousuke wondered if Kuramochi could do better. It was not out of any sort of painfully longing angst that Ryousuke wondered this–it was just a thought that wandered into his head every once in a while when he had a little too much time to think to himself. It wasn’t fun to think about, no doubt, with how it was a little self-deprecating and a lot depressing, but the idea always wiggled its way into Ryousuke’s head before he could stop it.
Kuramochi, with how odd he could be sometimes, was actually quite charming once anyone got past the raucous laughter and rough exterior. Kuramochi was fun to talk to and a good listener. He was funny and surprisingly kind. Although Kuramochi would never believe it himself, he had a short of rough handsomeness to him that reminded Ryousuke of the tough pretty boys he saw in dramas and romantic films, with his pretty face, his adorably crooked nose, and a body toned with years of baseball. But, in Ryousuke’s opinion, what truly made Kuramochi quite the catch was his smile, which stretched wide on his face, brighter than a sunny summer day.
Ryousuke wondered to himself how he landed himself here wrapped in Kuramochi’s arms. He wondered how he became the main recipient of Kuramochi’s brightest smiles. He wondered how he earned the right to hear his name said with such adoration on Kuramochi’s lips. He wondered how he could have possibly deserved to lie so close to Kuramochi like this, to be privy to Kuramochi’s sleeping expression–oh so vulnerable and yet so very content.
He wondered how he became the object of Kuramochi’s affections when it could have easily been someone else.
Maybe, Ryousuke thought, Kuramochi would be happier loving someone else. Someone kinder, someone who didn’t hide their love behind barbed wire. Someone gentler. Someone who could smile just as brightly.
Ryousuke didn’t even have to imagine anyone in his place sleeping next to Kuramochi before Ryousuke felt his stomach churn. He didn’t want anyone else to be able to ponder Kuramochi’s vulnerable expression when he fell asleep. Nor could Ryousuke bear to think of Kuramochi fondly say someone else’s name, seeking for their attention and approval, moaning it in bed muffled by the back of his hand, following an “I love you.”
Ryousuke’s lips pursed and his fingers curled into Kuramochi’s shirt. How dare this imaginary, hypothetical person try to take what was his?
“Ryou-san?”
Ryousuke was pulled from his delusions as he watched Kuramochi’s eyelashes flutter. He loosened his grip on Kuramochi’s shirt as Kuramochi propped himself up on his elbow, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Ryousuke asked.
“Nah, I was kind of waking up anyway,” Kuramochi said with a groggy grin. What a horrible liar. “Is everything okay?”
Ryousuke’s eyes fell to the red hickey he had left on Kuramochi’s collarbone yesterday, peeking out slightly under the stretched collar of Kuramochi’s T-shirt. It was one of many, but this one was the most obvious and prominent.
“I’m fine,” Ryousuke replied. His hand slowly ran up Kuramochi’s chest to that lovely spot. He smiled at the way Kuramochi shivered under the light brush off Ryousuke’s fingertips. “I was just thinking about things–sorting something out.”
Kuramochi looked a little confused, but shrugged “Did you figure things out, Ryou-san?”
“I believe so,” Ryousuke said. “But why don’t you kiss me so I can be sure?”
With that, Kuramochi seemed to wake right up, his cheeks dusting red as he gave Ryousuke a silly smile and leaned in to comply. His lips, chapped and rough as they were, sent shivers down Ryousuke’s spine.
Ryousuke smiled into the kiss. Perhaps this was selfish of him, but he could never give up something like this.
Maybe there was someone out there who could love Kuramochi, but now they’d have to get through Ryousuke.
FILL: Team Kominato Ryousuke/Kuramochi Youichi, T
It was during quiet times like these, when Kuramochi fell asleep while cuddling with Ryousuke, with his face smooth and calm and his arm draped over Ryousuke’s side, his nose whistling as he snored, that Ryousuke wondered if Kuramochi could do better.
It was not out of any sort of painfully longing angst that Ryousuke wondered this–it was just a thought that wandered into his head every once in a while when he had a little too much time to think to himself. It wasn’t fun to think about, no doubt, with how it was a little self-deprecating and a lot depressing, but the idea always wiggled its way into Ryousuke’s head before he could stop it.
Kuramochi, with how odd he could be sometimes, was actually quite charming once anyone got past the raucous laughter and rough exterior. Kuramochi was fun to talk to and a good listener. He was funny and surprisingly kind. Although Kuramochi would never believe it himself, he had a short of rough handsomeness to him that reminded Ryousuke of the tough pretty boys he saw in dramas and romantic films, with his pretty face, his adorably crooked nose, and a body toned with years of baseball. But, in Ryousuke’s opinion, what truly made Kuramochi quite the catch was his smile, which stretched wide on his face, brighter than a sunny summer day.
Ryousuke wondered to himself how he landed himself here wrapped in Kuramochi’s arms. He wondered how he became the main recipient of Kuramochi’s brightest smiles. He wondered how he earned the right to hear his name said with such adoration on Kuramochi’s lips. He wondered how he could have possibly deserved to lie so close to Kuramochi like this, to be privy to Kuramochi’s sleeping expression–oh so vulnerable and yet so very content.
He wondered how he became the object of Kuramochi’s affections when it could have easily been someone else.
Maybe, Ryousuke thought, Kuramochi would be happier loving someone else. Someone kinder, someone who didn’t hide their love behind barbed wire. Someone gentler. Someone who could smile just as brightly.
Ryousuke didn’t even have to imagine anyone in his place sleeping next to Kuramochi before Ryousuke felt his stomach churn. He didn’t want anyone else to be able to ponder Kuramochi’s vulnerable expression when he fell asleep. Nor could Ryousuke bear to think of Kuramochi fondly say someone else’s name, seeking for their attention and approval, moaning it in bed muffled by the back of his hand, following an “I love you.”
Ryousuke’s lips pursed and his fingers curled into Kuramochi’s shirt. How dare this imaginary, hypothetical person try to take what was his?
“Ryou-san?”
Ryousuke was pulled from his delusions as he watched Kuramochi’s eyelashes flutter. He loosened his grip on Kuramochi’s shirt as Kuramochi propped himself up on his elbow, rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Ryousuke asked.
“Nah, I was kind of waking up anyway,” Kuramochi said with a groggy grin. What a horrible liar. “Is everything okay?”
Ryousuke’s eyes fell to the red hickey he had left on Kuramochi’s collarbone yesterday, peeking out slightly under the stretched collar of Kuramochi’s T-shirt. It was one of many, but this one was the most obvious and prominent.
“I’m fine,” Ryousuke replied. His hand slowly ran up Kuramochi’s chest to that lovely spot. He smiled at the way Kuramochi shivered under the light brush off Ryousuke’s fingertips. “I was just thinking about things–sorting something out.”
Kuramochi looked a little confused, but shrugged “Did you figure things out, Ryou-san?”
“I believe so,” Ryousuke said. “But why don’t you kiss me so I can be sure?”
With that, Kuramochi seemed to wake right up, his cheeks dusting red as he gave Ryousuke a silly smile and leaned in to comply. His lips, chapped and rough as they were, sent shivers down Ryousuke’s spine.
Ryousuke smiled into the kiss. Perhaps this was selfish of him, but he could never give up something like this.
Maybe there was someone out there who could love Kuramochi, but now they’d have to get through Ryousuke.