They're living together--Miyuki and Kuramochi--have been for a while, a longtime couple, but even now, even with that knowledge, it still feels strange to think that he has this, that they have this.
And in quiet moments like this, late at night when he can't sleep and lies awake in their bed, staring at the ceiling, those are the moments Miyuki begins to wonder what would happen if this slipped away. Those thoughts quickly turn to something more, fears deeper than that.
what if Kuramochi doesn't want this anymore? doesn't want Miyuki anymore? what if tomorrow is the end and this is the last they'll ever get?
That, rejection, the possibility could change his mind them nearly as quickly as they began this years ago, those scare Miyuki. Even if they're not plausible thoughts or possible things, they feel very real. Very possible.
It seems like it could easily be a reality, when he's got time to dwell on it like this. What if the next time they fight he pushes Kuramochi far enough away to make him leave for good? What if he just leaves and never comes back home? What if things just end, just like that, no reason or explanation behind them besides 'this isn't working' and the quick, succinct shattering of everything they've built over the years.
Even while he's lying in their bed, Kuramochi's arm around his waist like an anchor, it still feels like a very real possibility. Miyuki can't help but think about it. All of it and--
"What's with that look?" Kuramochi mumbles against Miyuki's collarbone when he presses closer again, his fingers pressing into Miyuki's side, gentle as he holds him close. His lips are warm. All of him is warm, like usual.
He doesn't want to think about how cold this would be if he lost this.
"Nothing." Miyuki doesn't relax right away, like he normally would when Kuramochi touches him like this, when Kuramochi lays so close to him, no space between them. Instead, he's still tense.
"Too late for you to be thinking that hard." Kuramochi punctuates the sentence, the indication that he's caught onto what Miyuki's doing, even in the dead of the night and half asleep, with a kick to his legs (a gentle nudge, really, as he uses the opportunity to slide his leg between Miyuki's, tangling them together again.)
"It's four in the morning."
The noise that slips from Kuramochi's lips, vibrating against Miyuki's chest is a cross between a groan and a laugh. "Too early for you to be thinking that hard," he corrects, to make a point.
Miyuki can't help but laugh a little.
"Quit worrying, will you?"
Miyuki doesn't respond. They've never really had this conversation, not explicitly, anyway. It's only ever been bits and pieces, implications rather than blatant words and explanations. And Kuramochi always manages to quell Miyuki's fears, to stomp them out as quickly as they'd caught aflame with just simple touches, simple gestures.
"You gonna let go?" His hand brushes over Kuramochi's arm, the arm that's draped over Miyuki's waist, holding him close. This way, this way it's easy to pass of as talking about something as simple as how Kuramochi's holding him as they drift back to sleep in the early hours of morning. It doesn't have to imply anything more than that, doesn't have to hold anymore weight to it than necessary.
But Kuramochi's always been too perceptive for that. Always, always, always.
"Not a chance." He pulls his head back from where it had been resting against Miyuki's chest. They're face to face now, close and then closer when Kuramochi's leaning in again. The kiss he gives him is meant for Miyuki's lips, but his aim is slightly off, less careful in the darkness of their bedroom and their noses bump. "Now go back to fucking sleep, Kazuya."
He laughs softly, relaxing as he settles in Kuramochi's arms, his fingertips tracing over the jut of Kuramochi's hipbone. This is his. All his. No matter what Miyuki's doubts want to make him believe, Kuramochi can make him believe in the opposite.
FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T
692 words
Nights like these are the worst.
They're living together--Miyuki and Kuramochi--have been for a while, a longtime couple, but even now, even with that knowledge, it still feels strange to think that he has this, that they have this.
And in quiet moments like this, late at night when he can't sleep and lies awake in their bed, staring at the ceiling, those are the moments Miyuki begins to wonder what would happen if this slipped away. Those thoughts quickly turn to something more, fears deeper than that.
what if Kuramochi doesn't want this anymore? doesn't want Miyuki anymore? what if tomorrow is the end and this is the last they'll ever get?
That, rejection, the possibility could change his mind them nearly as quickly as they began this years ago, those scare Miyuki. Even if they're not plausible thoughts or possible things, they feel very real. Very possible.
It seems like it could easily be a reality, when he's got time to dwell on it like this. What if the next time they fight he pushes Kuramochi far enough away to make him leave for good? What if he just leaves and never comes back home? What if things just end, just like that, no reason or explanation behind them besides 'this isn't working' and the quick, succinct shattering of everything they've built over the years.
Even while he's lying in their bed, Kuramochi's arm around his waist like an anchor, it still feels like a very real possibility. Miyuki can't help but think about it. All of it and--
"What's with that look?" Kuramochi mumbles against Miyuki's collarbone when he presses closer again, his fingers pressing into Miyuki's side, gentle as he holds him close. His lips are warm. All of him is warm, like usual.
He doesn't want to think about how cold this would be if he lost this.
"Nothing." Miyuki doesn't relax right away, like he normally would when Kuramochi touches him like this, when Kuramochi lays so close to him, no space between them. Instead, he's still tense.
"Too late for you to be thinking that hard." Kuramochi punctuates the sentence, the indication that he's caught onto what Miyuki's doing, even in the dead of the night and half asleep, with a kick to his legs (a gentle nudge, really, as he uses the opportunity to slide his leg between Miyuki's, tangling them together again.)
"It's four in the morning."
The noise that slips from Kuramochi's lips, vibrating against Miyuki's chest is a cross between a groan and a laugh. "Too early for you to be thinking that hard," he corrects, to make a point.
Miyuki can't help but laugh a little.
"Quit worrying, will you?"
Miyuki doesn't respond. They've never really had this conversation, not explicitly, anyway. It's only ever been bits and pieces, implications rather than blatant words and explanations. And Kuramochi always manages to quell Miyuki's fears, to stomp them out as quickly as they'd caught aflame with just simple touches, simple gestures.
"You gonna let go?" His hand brushes over Kuramochi's arm, the arm that's draped over Miyuki's waist, holding him close. This way, this way it's easy to pass of as talking about something as simple as how Kuramochi's holding him as they drift back to sleep in the early hours of morning. It doesn't have to imply anything more than that, doesn't have to hold anymore weight to it than necessary.
But Kuramochi's always been too perceptive for that. Always, always, always.
"Not a chance." He pulls his head back from where it had been resting against Miyuki's chest. They're face to face now, close and then closer when Kuramochi's leaning in again. The kiss he gives him is meant for Miyuki's lips, but his aim is slightly off, less careful in the darkness of their bedroom and their noses bump. "Now go back to fucking sleep, Kazuya."
He laughs softly, relaxing as he settles in Kuramochi's arms, his fingertips tracing over the jut of Kuramochi's hipbone. This is his. All his. No matter what Miyuki's doubts want to make him believe, Kuramochi can make him believe in the opposite.