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“(Name)! Let’s get lunch.” Jiaoqiu waited for (Name) to pack up their belongings as class ended, bumping shoulders.

Their wallet was in their bag, so they took the chance to check inside. They cringed at the sight. “Damn, I only have $3 on me.”

He shrugged, “I’ll pay.”

As much as (Name) wanted to argue against him, they knew him well enough by now to know that he was stubborn and it would be no use. Yet another infuriating thing about him; he was much more friendly than what he implied with his coy smile.

So they let Jiaoqiu drag them to his favorite restaurant on campus, listening to him go on and on about whatever was on his mind as they walked. (Name) learned that Jiaoqiu lost track of all his notes and textbooks when his roommate organized his desk for him.

(Name) raised a brow, “how messy was your desk?”

“Organized chaos, not a mess. I have a system.” 

When they got to the restaurant, Jiaoqiu ordered (Name)’s favorite dish without even asking them first. He was good at remembering small details like that; a trait that made him a great chef and an even greater friend. (Name) liked that about him. A lot.

He handed them their food and leaned back in his chair. (Name) didn’t realize how hungry they were until the food was sitting in front of them. “Thanks for paying, Jiaoqiu. I don’t get my paycheck until Friday.”

“Friday?*” Jiaoqiu shot them a concerned look. “You’re living on $3 until Friday? (Name), it’s Tuesday.”

“It’s only a few days,” (Name) mumbled, voice small and body threatening to curl in on themselves. They regretted saying anything about their money situation if Jiaoqiu was going to fret over them.

“(Name), I’m serious. Are you gonna be okay for the week?” That uncharacteristically gentle voice of his was something only Jiaoqiu’s close friends were privy to. In their classes, Jiaoqiu was viewed as refined yet mischievous person. It would probably be difficult for their classmates to imagine there was a softer side to him— but, (Name) knew this well.

They knew Jiaoqiu was good person who cared a lot about his friends. But, if (Name) thought about him like that, they’d feel guilty over their frustration. Jiaoqiu was nothing but kind and helpful, if not occasionally annoying and bewildering. That was why (Name) liked him. That was why everyone liked him. That was why (Name) couldn’t help but compare themself to him, only to be dissatisfied with the results.

Bitter and jealous, yet Jiaoqiu was friends with them all the same. Infuriating.

“I’m okay, seriously. I have food at home, I can last. I just can’t get fast food this week.” (Name) poked at their food, hoping Jiaoqiu would leave them alone about it. It wasn’t worth his time to worry about them of all things.

A few moments passed with Jiaoqiu staring intently at (Name) before he relented, taking a spoonful of his curry. “If you say so. But, if you start to starve, I can cook you something.”

“Oh?” (Name)’s lips curled into a small smile. “A meal personally cooked by the Jiaoqiu?”

“Normally, that’d be very expensive. I’m offering you a good deal.”

True to his word, Jiaoqiu showed up to (Name)’s apartment on Thursday night to treat them to jiugongge hotpot— without being asked. When (Name) opened the door, Jiaoqiu looked a bit too proud of himself.

And he had every right to be, because the hotpot was incredibly delicious even as it threatened to burn (Name) from the inside out. Jiaoqiu spent the first half of the meal explaining his choices for each square in the grid like he was being interviewed for a magazine, and once he was satisfied that (Name) understood his manifesto, he could enjoy his meal in peace. Until both of their phones lit up with a notification about their most recent food science exam.

“Hey, our exam scores are out.”

(Name) didn’t want to look. They didn’t think they did bad, or anything, but they probably didn’t do great, either. But even doing just good would feel bad next to Jiaoqiu, who wasn’t worried about it at all. He took one glance at his phone before locking it again. “I passed.”

With flying colors, probably. It would have been strange if (Name) didn’t also check, so they reluctantly grabbed their phone and were met with the results they expected. A passing grade. Nothing remarkable. Nothing to prove that they were on the same playing field as Jiaoqiu. They fidgeted with their chopsticks, sighing, “Awesome, Jiaoqiu! When you open your own restaurant, maybe you can hire me as a waiter.”

Jiaoqiu tilted his head to the side, looking at (Name) with a furrowed brow. “A waiter? If I’m opening my own restaurant, we’re going to be partners.”

The term partners crashed on top of (Name) at a fatal speed. Business partners, (Name) was sure he meant, but even that understanding made them shrink into their chair. All of their classmates knew how difficult it was to be in Jiaoqiu’s shadow. How everyone in their graduating class was going to struggle to stand out against someone as talented as Jiaoqiu.

Despite that, Jiaoqiu had the utmost faith in (Name). Unflinchingly.

(Name) sucked in a breath. “... You think I’ll actually be a decent chef?” (Name) wanted to cringe at how fragile their voice sounded, but being vulnerable was scary.

“Of course I do,” Jiaoqiu nodded. “Did someone say you wouldn’t be?”

Myself, (Name) thought, but refrained from saying out loud. “No, I just… Cooking comes a lot more naturally to you than it does to me. You have better instincts, or whatever. I don’t want to drag you down.”

“That’s stupid.” His blunt tone of voice startled (Name). If (Name) didn’t know any better, they would have thought Jiaoqiu was annoyed. “You work harder than everyone else. You’d never drag anyone down. I think I work better with you around, to be honest.”

A realization dawned on (Name) at that moment: they were only in Jiaoqiu’s shadow if he let them be, and Jiaoqiu wanted them to stand side by side. And, if the once in a generation talent thought that (Name) was capable of great things, it was hard to argue against him.

(Name) blinked, then offered a small smile as the tension eased from their shoulders. “Thanks for believing in me.”

“You make it sound like that’s a difficult thing to do,” Jiaoqiu scoffed. It was hard for (Name) to stomach the idea that Jiaoqiu had so much confidence in them that their low self-esteem was an issue for him. He piled more of the hotpot onto their plate with a sense of urgency. “You’re great, okay? Now, hurry up and eat before the food starts to get cold.”

There was no risk of that with how spicy Jiaoqiu made it, but (Name) laughed and nodded. “Yes, chef!”

(Name)’s response was a quiet grunt, too exhausted to give a real answer, and too focused on savoring the warmth from Tsumugi’s embrace. “I’m alright. Just... nauseous this morning.”

Why (Name) was always so set on downplaying their problems, Tsumugi never understood. Alright and nauseous were a contradictory pair of words, and he could feel how warm (Name)’s skin was to know that there was something wrong. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You did seem sluggish when we went to bed last night. If you’re feeling sick, I can call your work and—“ Tsumugi was interrupted by (Name) vehemently shaking their head at the thought.

“Absolutely not,” they stated in a matter-of-fact sort of tone. Standing up, they reluctantly removed themself from Tsumugi’s warm embrace and wobbled out of the bathroom. “I’m not sick! Just, uh, a passing stomach bug. I’ll sleep it off.”

There were still two hours before the two of them had to get up and start the day. (Name) already felt bad making their partner wake up so early; they didn’t want Tsumugi to lose more sleep over them. They stubbornly tucked themself back into bed, but, much to (Name)’s chagrin, Tsumugi walked back into the bedroom with a thermometer in hand. (Name) pulled the blanket over their nose and mouth, narrowing their eyes. “I’m not sick. Get that thermometer away from me.”

“You might have a fever, dear. May I please check your temperature?” Tsumugi was being as polite and gentle as possible, inching the thermometer closer to (Name), who continued sulking under the covers.

“Not sick, I’m telling you! Can we just please go back to bed? We have to be up in an hour or so, and I don’t want to lose anymore sleep over this!” (Name)’s stubbornness and determination was admirable, and Tsumugi would be lying if he said they weren't something he fell in love with. But he’d also be lying if he said that he wasn’t frustrated with the current situation.

Begrudgingly, Tsumugi let out an exasperated sigh before placing the thermometer on the bedside table and climbing back into bed. He wasn’t going to win this argument, and he was tired, so he had no other choice but to concede. (Name) did not even try to hide the triumphant relief on their face as Tsumugi wrapped his arms around them, pulling them against his chest. Their skin was almost hot to the touch; Tsumugi just knew they had a fever.

He changed his mind. He was not going to concede. Tsumugi rubbed gentle circles into (Name)’s back, lulling them back into sleep so he could do something about it. Maybe something (Name) wouldn’t approve of, but the ends justified the means.

(Name)’s head hurt. Very badly. They knew that before even opening their eyes, and when they did, they found the sun’s rays beating down onto their bleary vision. Something was wrong. Everything was quiet— their alarm was supposed to wake them up. (Name) shot up in a panic and looked at the clock on the bedside table.

10 AM.

Why didn’t the alarm go off? They’ve never overslept before! Name turned, prepared to shake Tsumugi awake, but found that the rest of the bed was empty. Now (name) was even more confused. Did Tsumugi wake up without waking them up? Why would he do that? (Name) suddenly remembered their little dispute early in the morning and their heart sank. They pleaded, please tell me Tsumugi didn’t do what I think he did.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Tsumugi stood at the doorway to their bedroom, a plate of food in his hands. Such a sweet gesture should have been met with an equally sweet reaction, but (Name) only felt their heart sink even lower when they realized that Tsumugi had also stayed home.

(Name) groaned. “I said I wasn’t sick! Did you turn off the alarm?”

“I know you’re upset,” Tsumugi started. “You have a fever. I checked your temperature. You need to rest, please…”

He placed the lovingly homecooked meal on the bedside table. If any of (Name)’s senses were working properly, they were sure it smelled and tasted delicious, and they wanted nothing more than to try it. But they also had to stubbornly resist out of principle.

Leaning over, Tsumugi pressed a kiss to their warm forehead. “You’ll be worse off if you don’t rest today.”

(Name) bit their lip. The idea of taking a day to rest and recuperate sounded so nice, but the thought of missing a day of work always stressed them out. So many things they could be doing right now were now things they would have to do tomorrow. 

With a defeated sigh, (Name) finally laid their head back onto the pillow. “It’s so hard for me to relax, Tsumugi. Especially with you here.”

Tsumugi seemed taken aback by their answer. He brushed his thumb along (Name)’s warm cheek. He hated seeing them so stressed. “Is it bad that I’m here?”

“I don’t want to be a burden. Didn’t you have a rehearsal to go to?” (Name) clutched the blanket tightly, pulling it further over themself in an to hide. Unlike their earlier, frustrated words, their tone and volume had become weaker and softer.

Tsumugi offered them a warm smile, which did wonders in easing (Name)’s chills. “You could never be a burden to me. I can afford to miss a rehearsal. And, you can afford to take a break, too.”

His offer was so tempting, and his tone was so sweet, but (Name) couldn’t feel content with it. Their brow furrowed, shutting their eyes tight. “I can tough out doing extra work— even though I’d prefer to get it done now —but, it’s not fair of me to make you miss a day because I got sick!”

“It’s unfair that such a diligent worker like you got sick” Tsumugi gently pulled the blanket down to fully uncover (Name)’s pouting face. “I stayed home to take care of you because I wanted to. I love you, the last thing I’d do is leave you while you suffer.” Tsumugi ended his speech by pressing a kiss to (Name)’s temple.

Too kind. All (Name) had was a fever that would likely be gone by the next morning, so there was no need for Tsumugi to say such sweet words. But, no matter what (Name) told themself, they knew Tsumugi’s sentimentality was one of the very many reasons they fell for him in the first place. Finally, (Name) believed that they could relax. Work could wait, but the breakfast Tsumugi made for them was beginning to get cold.

“You’re too kind to me,” (Name) sighed, a smile beginning to pull at their lips. “But, thank you, Tsumugi, for taking care of me. I hope you know I would do the same for you in a heartbeat.” 

Tsumugi let out a soft chuckle, feeling his heart warm at the hint of a smile on (Name)’s face. Alongside their stubbornness was a sweet and caring side that made Tsumugi feel like the luckiest man in the world every time he got to see it. He leaned forward, their noses mere centimeters apart. “Of course. I love you.”

“Hey, wait—! I’m sick, don’t kiss me!”

Ayato, himself, didn’t much care for that line of thinking. He had known (Name) since they were young and would honestly say he had been in love with them since they were young teenagers. But Inazuma’s inner politics were fraught for some time, so he and (Name) proceeded through their relationship slowly and quietly. So slowly, in fact, that this was the pair’s first night sleeping in the same room.

He put his comb down on the night stand and extsinguished the lantern light. Finally, Ayato turned to (Name) and reached out to brush his hand across their cheek. Knowing each other since childhood did nothing to dim the warm, tender expression that Ayato saved only for (Name). They leaned into his hand shamelessly, eyes closed as a warmth spread through their chest.

For as restless as (Name) was waiting earlier, they wordlessly yielded to Ayato’s embrace as he eased onto the futon beside them. (Name) curled against Ayato, desperate to fit into the spaces they always longed for. Ayato wasn’t any less clingy, wrapping his arms around them and pulling them close enough to vanquish that distance that had always been their enemy. Still, he couldn’t help but smirk against (Name)’s temple.

“Someone is quite eager,” he mused, like he didn’t just cross a leg over (Name)’s to ensure they were sufficiently trapped in his grasp.

(Name) scoffed against his chest. “Oh, shove it. I am simply accepting my reward for being so patient for years. It’s not easy to fall in love with a prince.”

Ayato squeezed (Name)’s hip like some sort of apology. “It sounds dreadful. How lucky am I, then, that your patience lasted this long.”

“My patience would have lasted lifetimes,” (Name) whispered, their forehead brushing against Ayato’s collarbone. “Knowing we would reach this point eventually.”

The tenderness in (Name)’s voice nearly undid Ayato. He let out a short breath before tilting (Name)’s chin up with gentle fingers to kiss them, slow and languid. (Name) kissed back with the same patience they had just spoke about, savoring the moment they had both been waiting for as they clutched the back of Ayato’s yukata.

It was far from their first kiss, but it marked a new beginning; a new normal where they could hold each other every night for the rest of their lives together. 

When they broke the kiss, Ayato looked at (Name) with pure admiration and love, eyes radiant and unguarded. In (Name)’s presence, he wasn’t a prince, and his only responsibility was to make sure (Name) was loved.

“I would do anything you asked of me,” Ayato confessed. His voice was quiet but certain— more certain than he had been about anything in his life. He couldn’t tell where his heartbeat ended and where (Name)’s began. “Anything, (Name). Just say the word.”

(Name) brushed their thumb across Ayato’s lips, their smile illuminated by the pale moonlight. “All I want is you. Us.”

Ayato wasn’t going to deny such a loving request. He reached for their hand on his lips and entwined their fingers, pressing a kiss to (Name)’s forehead. Sleep did not come for them any time soon; the pair stayed awake for hours, tangled together, exchanging whispers and laughter, kissing like they had just entered the honeymoon phase years into their relationship. Happily, restlessly, in love.

By the time dawn broke, Ayato was the only one to stir, despite the lack of actual sleep he got. He wouldn’t trade those hours lying awake with (Name) for anything, though. Even then, his arm was draped firmly around their waist as they continued to doze against his chest.

Ayato had responsibilities and obligations, however much he would rather stay in and rest. He moved just slightly, testing the waters of what would awake (Name) by removing his arm as slowly as possible. 

He thought (Name) was deep in sleep, but he was proven wrong as their grip tightened on the fabric of his yukata. “No,” they mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. “You’re not leaving.”

A small laugh escaped Ayato’s lips, gentle but cautious. “It’s morning, my dear. I have things to do—”

“You don’t.” (Name) didn’t let him finish. They clutched onto his body like their life depended on it. And, if someone were to ask them, they would have said their life depended on it. More than breathing. “You have me. Right here.”

Again, Ayato tried to escape (Name)’s iron grasp, but it was a futile endeavor. He was starting to wonder if (Name) was training behind his back. “Everyone will be quite upset with me if I stay in bed all day.”

“And I will be upset if you leave me. This is my ultimatum,” (Name) insisted, somewhere between teasing and threatening. They moved closer, tucking themself against Ayato’s neck with all the stubborn flair of someone who knew they were being impossible. “I trust you will not let me down.”

Despite himself, Ayato laughed. “Incorrigible.”

He felt them smirk, and in that moment Ayato realized he had already surrendered. He breathed an exasperated sigh that was betrayed by the warm smile he had as he fell back into place along (Name)’s side. They shifted closer until their chin was propped on top of Ayato’s chest, looking at him with bleary eyes that were struggling to stay open. “Stay with me. Please?”

A genuine, fragile plea. Ayato’s heart might have just melted. His hand traced circles into (Name)’s back, lulling them both back to sleep. He really did have pressing things to get to, but maybe they could wait. Just a bit. “For now,” he teased.

“Forever.” (Name)’s smug correction was their last word before they drifted back into slumber, pinning Ayato beneath him lest he wake them up. Sufficiently trapped.

Ayato was more than content to watch (Name) in their sleep; admiring their beauty in the early morning sunlight until he had no choice but to leave. But, if he would have to leave this paradise eventually, he might as well take the opportunity for some extra rest.

He kissed the top of their head before closing his eyes, content and in peace.

(Name) was ecstatic at the revelation, even if it didn’t show much in their initial reaction to Megumi’s words (they stared in disbelief long enough for Megumi to ask if they were alright, to which they vehemently shook their head, saying, ”ah, no! I mean-- I’m alright! I’m great, actually!” before happily Megumi’s offer for a simple lunch date). That was a dream come true, and it seemed like nothing could go wrong. They spent Thursday at the library with Megumi and friends, spent Friday after class buying a new outfit for the occasion, and now, Saturday, they arrived fashionably early at Megumi’s favorite restaurant.

As the minutes passed by, their excitement began to fade away, only to be replaced with a much more unsettling set of feelings as the time started inching closer to noon. 

Do I look alright? (Name) glanced down to their outfit. They had just bought it yesterday. Yesterday they thought it was nice. Now, out of nowhere, it wasn’t. The colors were too much. Or, maybe the it was all too tacky. Maybe it was a good outfit, but it was themself who looked bad in it.

Are people looking at me? No, no one was looking at them. (Name) knew that, yet that wasn’t how it felt. Their breath caught in their throat at the thought of people looking at them. There were so many people around. They could all be staring behind their back, they could all be judging them harshly.

On the table, (Name) watched as the clock on their phone moved from 12:05 to 12:06. In their endless cascade of thoughts, they didn’t even realize it was past noon. There could be a million good reasons for Megumi being late, but wouldn’t he have texted them by now? Their mind, already moving faster than they would’ve liked, began to race. Did he bail? No, he would never. Before any romantic possibility came up, they had been close friends for years, and Megumi wouldn’t hurt one of his friends like that. But no matter how many times (Name) countered their irrational thoughts with sound reason and logic, their mind continued to spiral. 

The quiet chatter of people around them suddenly became distant mumble of judgment. The bright and sunny day was suddenly cloudy with the unknown. It all was becoming overwhelming and (Name) couldn’t see a way out and--

“(Name).” Megumi’s voice broke through their abysmal thoughts. Though it was like an abrupt crash into a brick wall rather than a peaceful end to (Name)’s continuing spiral. He was holding a tray of food as he walked out of the door of the restaurant towards the outdoor patio (Name) had been waiting at. Locking eyes with them, Megumi’s gaze softened and (Name) felt their heart swell with adoration. “Sorry I’m a little late. I saw that you got here before me, so I went ahead and ordered our food.”

He took the seat across from (Name) and placed the tray onto the table. (Name) noticed that Megumi had gotten their usual without even having to ask. “Thanks, Megumi. How are you?” (Name) prayed that Megumi didn’t pick up the tremble in their voice as they choked back their earlier unease.

“I’m okay,” Megumi said, before his eyes widened in the realization that he should be saying more to the person he was on a date with. His gaze fell to the table as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Um, I’m good. I’m happy you’re here.”

In the face of one of the nicest things (Name) had ever heard, all they could do was force a half-smile. They hated when that happened— when their anxieties overpowered all of their other senses. Instead of being excited for the date they had always wanted, they could only think about how high his expectations might be.

They couldn’t possibly meet those expectations.

(Name) suddenly felt out of place. Like someone else should be sitting in this chair, someone better looking, someone more interesting. Megumi was just... a great guy. So much better than (Name) ever thought of themself, so much so that they couldn’t help but not believe Megumi when he asked them out. They stared in shock, because why would someone like Megumi even bat an eye at them? They were friends, yeah, but what made them someone worth going on a date with?

“(Name)? You okay?” Megumi, setting down his cup after taking a drink, looked at (Name), concern growing in his eyes.

(Name) blinked. “Huh?” Their worries had surrounded them to the point that they nearly forgot where they were. (Name) had no idea how long they had just been staring off into oblivion, but it was long enough that Megumi had started to take notice. Not wanting to worry him, they shook their head. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Megumi raised a brow, and (Name) could tell he wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t like they did a good job of acting the part, but they still lamented not being convincing. “Are you sure? You’ve been so quiet the whole time. You haven’t touched your food.”

(Name) glanced down at the table to see their meal untouched and wondered where their appetite had gone. Probably escaped at the same moment their anxiety took over. Why couldn’t their mind be quiet? All (Name) wanted was a nice, enjoyable day, but they sabotaged themself by thinking everything was going wrong before Megumi even made it to the table. (Name) wanted to be here. They wanted to be here with Megumi. But they also wanted to be anywhere else.

Standing up, (Name)’s chair scraped backwards across the floor. They didn’t even look at Megumi. “I’m... I’m okay. I just… need a moment.”

Before Megumi could say anything, (Name) hurried off. They didn’t walk far down the street before turning onto an empty alleyway, out of sight from anyone else, and nearly crumbled down onto the ground. Deep breaths, ground yourself; they repeated the instructions repeatedly, yet all they could manage were shallow, shaky breaths that did nothing to calm their rising heart rate. Their mind screamed at them: hurry up! You’re taking too long! But that only made the panic arise more. They couldn’t find a reprieve. Even alone in some random alley, they felt overwhelmed. Tears pooled in the corner of their eyes, threatening to fall if—

An arm wrapped around their shoulders, and (Name) startled, their back crashing into Megumi’s chest. “It’s just me.” Like always, hearing Megumi’s voice was a comfort. (Name) glanced up at him to see the worry written all over his face before locking their eyes onto the ground. It felt bad to have someone, especially Megumi, witness them in a vulnerable state. “What’s wrong?”

“... My outfit is ugly.” Not the truth, not even close it, but it was the easiest thing for (Name) to say. 

Megumi was surprised at the answer. “What? You look… good.” He cringed at another terrible response. Flowery language was probably one of his worst banes. “You always look good.”

The kind words were lost on them. (Name) was overwhelmed with anxiety and embarrassment all at once. They wished they could just fade away into nothingness, but Megumi wouldn’t let them go. “I— I’m ruining our first date!”

“... Huh?” Megumi’s brows furrowed.

“I— I came too early. I thought everyone was staring at me. I thought my outfit looked ugly. I thought you bailed on me. Even though I knew I was being unreasonable, even when you arrived, I just couldn’t calm down. Now, we’re in some dirty alleyway… I’m so sorry for ruining everything, Megumi...”

Pouring their heart out like that, (Name) expected the worst, as they had been doing since they got here. When they felt Megumi’s arm leave their shoulder, they thought their fears were realized.

Until Megumi suddenly pulled them into a proper hug.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I’m sorry I got here late and made you worry…” He hoped he could express what his words couldn’t convey through the embrace. He pat (Name)’s back, thinking of the way Tsumiki used to comfort him through his temper tantrums when he was younger.

(Name) didn’t quite melt into Megumi’s touch, but tension bled from their body with each movement of Megumi’s hand. “You don’t have to apologize… I shouldn’t have freaked out.” Their voice was muffled against Megumi’s shoulder, and if they hadn’t already crossed the anxiety event horizon, they would’ve been more embarrassed about this whole situation.

Megumi pulled back and mustered enough courage to look (Name) in the eye, one hand still lingering on their shoulder. “A first date is… scary. I was nervous, too.”

It wasn’t a light confession, especially coming from someone as stoic as Megumi. His face bloomed in a light shade of pink and his lips twitched with words unspoken, but he squeezed (Name)’s shoulder in lieu of what he wasn’t capable of verbally. And (Name) wasn’t alone in their thoughts anymore.

“It is scary,” (Name) agreed, finally able to offer a genuine smile. “... Our food is getting cold.”

Megumi let out a breath, lips curling up just enough for (Name) to notice. “Right.”

When they walked back hand-in-hand, (Name)’s heart could rest easy.

ACTS OF SERVICE: This is the love language he ends up doing the least, kinda. It depends on your specific definition of acts of service.

I say that because I believe Yusuke does everything with you, more than he does things for you. For example, if he buys dinner for the both of you, he’s more focused on the act of eating together rather than being the one who took initiative.

But Yusuke definitely does smaller, detailed oriented stuff that doesn’t even register as affection to him. He will tie your shoes, organize your papers, carry your bag, and anything else he thinks will help you in the moment.

He appreciates anything you decide to do for him, of course, but Yusuke will rarely ask or expect anything from you. He’s just not wired that way!

GIFTS: Do NOT let him buy you gifts! He cannot afford them!

Genuinely, you have to tell him not to unless for special occasions, or else he will not have enough money to eat. Alternatively, Akira will bail him out and actually be the person paying for your gift.

He likes to buy you flowers. He thinks flowers are beautiful, and he thinks you’re beautiful, so it’s perfect!

In terms of his gift giving skill for special occasions, like birthdays, he is the type to remember hyper specific details you mentioned offhandedly. Sometimes, you don’t even remember saying you wanted something, but Yusuke always will.

“A few months ago, you mentioned that your bag always feels disorganized, so I got you a new bag with a lot of pockets.”

The best gift you can give him, besides a meal, is a sketchbook. He goes through them quickly, and high quality ones are always out of his budget (set by you and the rest of his friends). 

Yusuke used to be pretty disorganized with his sketches, and he’s lost plenty, but after you started gifting him sketchbooks with loving notes written on the first page, he cherishes them forever.

QUALITY TIME: I think this is Yusuke’s preferred love language, both giving and receiving.

As seen in the game, Yusuke likes to be around his loved ones, even if it’s as simple as just being in the same room together, doing separate activities.

Yusuke had the habit of showing up unannounced to your place for any number of reasons, and you told him he had to warn you first after more than one incident where he showed up when you weren’t home.

His idea of bliss is laying on the floor of your bedroom, painting, while listening to you talk about your day. He claims to be the most productive when he’s around you, but you have reason to believe that’s wrong.

Sometimes he will ask you for feedback, sometimes he will ask you to stay still for 3 hours so he can draw you (before you tell him just to take a picture as reference), and sometimes he will simply show up for the sole purpose of sitting in the same space together.

Genuinely, “nothing,” is his favorite activity. Dates are fun, but so is sitting idly by.

PHYSICAL TOUCH: It takes Yusuke some time to integrate physical touch into your relationship. Not because he didn’t want it, but because he literally doesn’t think about it.

There wasn’t much room for physical affection in his childhood after his mother died, so he doesn’t have the instincts for it.

He is touch-starved and has no idea until you enlighten him. The first time you give him a hug, Yusuke is certain he is in love with you. The first time you two kiss, Yusuke doesn’t want to ever be without you.

After crossing those thresholds, Yusuke starts to initiate physical affection more often. To be honest, he’s kinda awkward about it in that he likes making contact with you in any way; holding hands is great, but he also seems satisfied putting his hand on the top of your head.

One of Yusuke’s favorite rituals is, when you’re meeting up for a date, you come up behind him to hug him. He adores the wonderful surprise to the point that he will literally face the opposite direction he knows you will arrive from.

(Name) huffed and crossed their arms. Itaru did the small kindness of pausing his game to be present in the conversation, but he didn’t seem too interested in the topic at all. He was lowkey about his interests, careful not to compromise his worksona. But he was also an actor who dressed in costume on the regular, on and off stage. (Name) didn’t understand why they had to beg him to put any thought into Halloween costumes.

Itaru raised his finger as if struck by an incredible idea. “Hey, if you want something fresh— Lancelot and Gwen?”

“... Are you fucking with me?”

The sharpness of (Name)’s voice caught Itaru’s full attention. He hooked his finger onto (Name)’s belt loop and pulled them close enough to press his cheek against their stomach. (Name)’s arms were limp at their side as Itaru tried his best at an apologetic hug. “Okay, okay, sorry. I was being a dick.”

(Name) didn’t move to reciprocate, even as Itaru squeezed them with all his might. “You are,” they scoffed. “... If you don’t want to do a couples costume, just tell me.”

Itaru pressed a kiss to (Name)’s stomach before leaning his head back to look up at them. “I wanna do a couples costume. Its romantic.”

“Then act like it? Are you gamer raging, or something?” Their stubborn resolve wavered as Itaru’s hand slipped beneath the hem of their shirt so his fingers could delicately trace up their spine.

“I wish it were that simple. My coworkers want to go drinking on Halloween, and all the children aren’t young enough anymore for me to say I’m taking them trick-or-treating.”

The children, (Name) reasoned, were the likes of Muku, Yuki, Kumon, and Azami. Maybe Sakuya and Taichi for how young they looked. None of whom have ever been taken trick-or-treating by Itaru.

(Name) blinked. “That’s how you’ve avoided going drinking with them on Halloween?”

“It was genius, I know,” Itaru lamented, although (Name) said nothing of the sort. “I got to avoid hanging out with them and I got to look charitable.”

“That was a stupid plan.”

Fingers poked at (Name)’s sides. “I can always count on you to say sweet-nothings.”

That finally got a laugh from (Name), and Itaru hummed in content as (Name)’s hands cradled his head, ruffling his hair. Itaru was paradoxical in the sense that he cared about looking cool as much as he didn’t care about being lame. He had no qualms about avoiding hanging out with his coworkers for literal years, but god forbid he be honest about it. No, he had to make up a fantastical tale about taking his young, fellow actors trick-or-treating.

“Just tell them you already have plans with me. You know, your partner? Someone who isn’t gonna get pissed at you for exploiting their youth for your personal benefit?” If Yuki or Azami knew that was Itaru’s go-to excuse, he would never hear the end of it. 

Itaru’s eyes sparkled with love and admiration. “This is why you’re my player two.”

(Name) cringed at the phrasing, but that was their boyfriend, the guy they loved— and the guy they were begging to do couples cosplay for Halloween, so they weren’t much better than him.

“Yeah, whatever,” (Name) huffed. “But, I won’t let you use that excuse until we decide on the costumes!”

Suddenly, Itaru was locked in. 

“Cloud and Sephiroth?” He suggested, then added, “I’d be Sephiroth.”

“You are clearly Cloud.” (Name) shook their head. “I was thinking Eren and Mikasa.”

Itaru tugged (Name) down, rearranging their positions until (Name) was sitting on his lap. He perched his chin upon their shoulder. “We’d be dressed exactly the same.”

“Not their season four designs! Besides, Mikasa has a scarf!”

He wasn’t convinced. Itaru closed his eyes and pondered hard about their options— and the fact that he was absolutely worthy of dressing as Sephiroth despite what (Name) argued —and the perfect thought occurred to him.

Itaru straightened his posture. “Mark S. and Helly R..”

That was a far cry from his awful ideas at the start of their conversation. (Name) grinned, “of course a woeful salaryman would want to dress up as a severed worker.”

They wrapped their arms around his shoulders rather than shoot down his idea. Itaru squeezed their hip and leaned forward. “Maybe I just want to see you dressed up like an office worker, too.”

(Name) raised a brow. “Don’t be weird about it.”

But (Name) kissed Itaru anyway, proving the point that they really were no better than him.

“You’re taking all the whimsy out of my students’ work!” He picked up the next paper in the stack and presented it to (Name). “Look at this one! Akina-chan drew herself with her pet dog!”

(Name) squinted at the drawing. “Her dog looks gigantic.”

“(Naaaaaame)!” Sugawara scoffed and hooked his fingers into (Name)’s belt loop, pulling them into his lap. Any annoyance he may have feigned was betrayed by the way he kissed (Name)’s cheek before gracing their lips. “You’re too cynical!”

They leaned into him fully, smiling into the kiss. “Only to get a reaction.” And when the reaction was playful affection from their partner, (Name) could hardly be blamed. “I think your students are going places. Surely Akina-chan gets extra credit for having the biggest dog in the world?”

Another laugh from Sugawara. “I can’t give extra credit for that. It’s not the other students’ faults they don’t have a big dog in their drawing.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” (Name) sighed with a melodramatic lilt, even though they thought Akina-chan really deserved it. They picked up another paper in the stack, adding to the disorganization on their dining table, and gazed at the crayon scribbles and chicken scratch writing with appreciation. 

(Name) nestled further against Sugawara’s neck. “Kid art is so amazing. You can tell they were practically shaking with excitement.”

“You should’ve seen them when I said their job was to draw them and their families. At this age, they love their families more than anything in the world!” The classroom did erupt with squeals when Sugawara told them what their special art project would be. Even moreso when he brought out the stickers and glitter glue, which Sugawara predicted he would be cleaning from his classroom for the next three years.

But it was worth it, to see them smile so brightly and get priceless works of art. (Name) brushed their fingers across Sugawara’s jaw, thinking of days gone by. “To be a kid again…”

He was about to agree, but a light sparked on in his mind. “We could be!”

In the years that (Name) had spent with Sugawara, they learned that whenever he that that look on his face, it was a gamble on whether or not something wonderful or evil was going to happen.

They were pretty sure it would be in the wonderful category, but (Name) could never be too confident. “What’s on your mind, Koshi?”

Sugawara stood up with drive and ambition, still holding (Name) up in his arms as he skipped over to his desk, opening a drawer and rifling through its contents. Somewhere in the mess he told himself he was going to organize months ago, he pulled some lightly crinkled pieces of paper and a box of crayons.

“All the good materials are in my classroom,” Sugawara lamented, but with a cheerful expression nonetheless. “But, this’ll do, right? To make our own family portraits?”

(Name) looked at Sugawara like he was the universe itself. “That’s the cutest idea I’ve ever heard. Do we hang them on the fridge when we’re done?”

Sugawara grinned. “Where else would they go?” 

He finally let (Name) down— not before kissing them again as they sat down in their own chair and cracked open the box of crayons They didn’t know the last time they scribbled with crayons, or drew their best attempt at a self portrait, or channeled their inner child for a fun little art project.

(Name) looked up at one point, catching Sugawara peeking at their drawing. They threw their arms on the table in an instant, covering the paper from his view. “Hey! Don’t look until it’s done!”

“Hmph,” Sugawara pouted. “But I’m dying to know what you’ll draw.”

They only pulled their paper further away from him. “Isn’t patience one of those values you teach your students?”

There was no argument Sugawara could offer, so he grabbed a few more crayons and went back to work on his masterpiece. He wasn’t actually half-bad as an artist, and had improved his craft ever since he became a teacher— it was impressive how much of a morale boost a silly drawing of a cat on the chalkboard provided his students. But he found his sketch lines looser and more freed, following his instincts rather than any real plan.

They were a pair of adults and didn’t have anything to decorate with besides crayons, so it didn’t take them long to finish their drawings. Like little kids, excitement was radiating off both of them as they flipped their papers to the back to prepare a grand reveal.

“Flip on one?” Sugawara asked, and (Name) nodded quickly. “Alright! Three, two… one!”

They flipped their papers, revealing crude but colorful drawings that were filled with more love and dedication than anything else they put on paper in the last year. In (Name)’s drawing, stick-figure Sugawara and stick-figure (Name) were holding hands in a flowery field. In Sugawara’s drawing, misshapen (Name) and misshapen Sugawara were kissing in the front yard of their giant mansion.

“Aww! Koshi, that’s adorable! Are we kissing?” (Name) marveled at Sugawara’s piece, leaning closer to take in all the scribbled details. 

Sugawara preened under (Name)’s praise. “Of course. It’s my favorite activity!” He kissed their temple to prove his point, before turning his attention back to (Name)’s drawing. “Such a beautiful landscape you drew here. You’re a real Tohaku.”

“Do you think the art galleries will accept it?” (Name) linked arms with Sugawara, leaning their head on his shoulder.

“The most prestigious art gallery of all!”

Among reminders of upcoming events and novelty magnets, their fridge was adorned with their most accurate depictions of their love.