#sakuaka

after snoozing the first alarm, the next time keiji wakes up it's to the sight of kiyoomi, hair wet from his post-run shower, gently carding his fingers through keiji's hair. keiji, bleary-eyed, squints at him.

"k'yo'mi...? back alr'dy?" keiji frowns, voice rough from disuse. the slurring makes kiyoomi chuckle.

"yeah, it's still too early though. do you want to sleep more?"

"no..!" keiji vehemently refuses. "wanted t'make us br'kfast 'fore y'go." kiyoomi grins wider

as keiji fights through the sleepiness. the amusement settles in kiyoomi's chest and with it comes the warm feeling that only keiji is capable of giving to kiyoomi.

(oh, he's smitten.)

keiji, eyes falling close, grips on kiyoomi's hand.

"you had a long night, kei. you should rest a bit more, hm? i can make us breakfast today."

"nooooo," keiji tightens his hold on kiyoomi. "i wan' do it."

(now, keiji would tear kiyoomi a new one if he ever mentions it to him, but this is the best part about waking up keiji in the morning: he gets whiny and clingy, his inhibitions lost to the pull of sleep. it's something that only kiyoomi has the pleasure of seeing. and with anything relating to keiji, something that he treasures dearly.)

kiyoomi tamps down the laughter bubbling up his throat. the lilt in his smile the only thing giving away his mirth. not that keiji could see it anyway, eyes closed and all.

"what if we cook together instead, lovebug?" he offers an olive branch. keiji seems to think it through, turning the words slowly in his sluggish mind.

"i'll get you coffee to wake you up and then we cook?" kiyoomi entices further.

keiji hesitates, but ultimately acquiesces.

"okay..."

"great, i'll go make you your coffee."

kiyoomi tries to carefully pry his hand out of keiji's hold only for the latter to tighten his grip in response. the silence stretches as kiyoomi fails every attempt at pulling his hand out.

"you gotta let me go, keiji." kiyoomi laughs. "don't you want your coffee?"

keiji, who is decidedly more awake, only tugs kiyoomi closer.

"i want my coffee."

"then you have to let go."

"no." keiji huffs.

"keiji..."

"kiyoomi." he mimics kiyoomi's tone.

this back and forth happens a few more times before keiji seems to get drowsy again, having used what little energy he had for their banter.

only then does he finally let kiyoomi go to get his promised coffee. when kiyoomi comes back, two steaming mugs in hand, it's to the sight of keiji slumped on the headboard, snoring.

it's the sakusa family's scheduled bi-monthly call. usually, kiyoomi would look forward to this—to check up on his brother's toddler, listen to his sister's stories from the country she's in, know how dad is doing and whatever new hobby his mother picked up now that the kids are out of the house—especially after he moved out for uni (not that he would admit it, of course).

now, though, is an exception.

having his mother and siblings just stare at him as he struggles to explain why he's short on money for the month is, he thinks, far harder than receiving ushijima's serve.

"i seem to have overspent it on... clothes..." kiyoomi trails off lamely

at this, his sister perks up from her part of the screen.

"is this the sweater you showed me the other day?"

kiyoomi hums in affirmation. in response, his sister raises a questioning brow.

"what happened to it? i'm pretty sure that wasn't too expensive, no?"

at this, kiyoomi pauses, nibbles on his lip as he decides how best to phrase it.

it's not like he can outright say he bought two of the same sweater on a whim and the boy he's been pining over just "borrowed" both of them without signs of planning to return it anytime soon.

1) it's not kiyoomi's smartest financial decision and;

2) kiyoomi cannot handle the teasing that would come if he ever mentions keiji to them (especially not after rambling to his sister about his crush while he was drunk off his ass).

and so, he settles for:

"i was robbed on the way home." he deadpans.

he mentally kicks himself for it. nice going, kiyoomi. you fucking loser. totally believable.

from the way the light dies inside his sister's eyes and the overall skeptic silence that comes, kiyoomi knows they're not buying it. the silence stretches that even kiyoomi himself feels the need to shift around and settles for fiddling with the ring on his pointer finger.

kiyoomi's too lost in his thoughts that the sound of the door to his apartment opening and closing makes him jump out of his skin.

"kiyoomi! i got what we needed for hotpot." keiji's voice rings from the foyer. "i didn't get the soup base you wanted so, i just picked out my favorites. i hope that's fine—oh! but i did get the lamb cut you were craving, the pork belly, and i ended up picking up clams too because motoya-kun was raving about it yesterday."

keiji's rambling comes and goes as he flutters about in the apartment.

he doesn't pause for breath which meant he wasn't exactly waiting for kiyoomi to respond; seemingly aware of kiyoomi's tendency to just listen to him after being friends for so many months.

kiyoomi unwittingly smiles as keiji keeps talking.

keiji walks behind him to transport the bags of groceries and it's only on his third trip back that kiyoomi realizes five things:

1) keiji is wearing one of kiyoomi's new sweaters.

2) another sweater is tucked in the corner of keiji's elbow.

3) kiyoomi is still on the phone with his family.

4) keiji doesn't know he's in call with his family.

5) kiyoomi does not tell keiji he's in a call with his family soon enough.

so, really, he can't blame keiji for the casual way he stops behind kiyoomi, a sweater on his person and an identical one in his hand.

"i forgot i had both with me so, i had to stop by my... apart... ment... " keiji trails off when he sees the phone propped on the table, kiyoomi's ears flushed red, and the phone call still ongoing on the screen.

"oh my goodness! i'm so sorry to intrude!" keiji yelps and scrambles to the kitchen, babbling about washing the vegetables and cutting the meat.

when keiji is out of the room, kiyoomi braves a look at his phone. varying levels of amusement—that only his brother seems to try to hide—greet him. the dread settles heavily in his chest.

of course, it's his sister that pipes up first, smile predatory and sharp.

"so, you were robbed, huh?"