"Saruhiko! How many times have I told you not to sleep on the floor so exposed like that! You'll catch a cold!" The boy in black-framed glasses flickered his eyes open to the sight of the frowning, chestnut-haired boy above him. 15 year old Fushimi Saruhiko didn't even know how long he had been asleep on the floor right next to the kotatsu like that. An hour? Two maybe?

"Misaki." Was all he could muster up, consumed in pure exhaustion. He stared at the older of the two hazily, trying to keep his eyes open.

"Ah, you're helpless. Here." His roommate, Yata Misaki, threw a thick blanket right on top of his stomach. Fushimi didn't even move an inch, plainly staring at Misaki with no more than a blank stare. To say, he's gotten pretty used to having the shorter boy around; his childish and enthusiastic behavior (which he found pretty refreshing and amusing to see) and even living with him. It felt remotely strange whenever the two were apart. At least for Fushimi it did.

What he probably hasn't gotten used to yet, is probably that strange, unpleasant feeling, clawing his insides whenever he's with Misaki lately. And he'd feel almost slightly uncomfortable whenever Misaki would ignite the slightest of physical contact with him. But the bigger part of him craved that physical contact. He didn't know when it had started, much less how, but he could've swore that this was the first time for him to feel that way around a certain somebody, and he didn't like it.

Like, his heart was in a mere grip. A mixture of happiness, excitement, grief, confusion and annoyance that he never knew how to cope and respond to.

"What? You're looking at me weird." Yata placed both of his hands on his waist and threw Saruhiko a confused look. Unconsciously, Saruhiko, still in a daze of sleepiness reached out a hand towards him, suddenly having the urge to touch the brunet. From his long, smooth, chestnut locks that made him look a tad like girl from the back, to his exposed collarbone. Want. Want, want, want. It was the only word Fushimi could repeat inside of his mind, as if he had been hypnotized.

"Misaki… I wanna—" Fushimi murmured so low, he himself couldn't quite hear what he was saying. His hand stretched out a couple more inches closer to Yata, who just plainly stares at his friend. Yata tilted his head to the left in confusion, his eyebrows creased before fist-bumping Saruhiko's hand in an awkward manner.

"Hey, you alright?" Yata asked him in an almost concerned tone. As much as he'd like to just grab the brunet's wrist, he knew he couldn't. Fushimi immediately jerked his hand backwards in sudden awareness and rolled on his sides, so that his back was facing Yata, engulfing himself underneath the blanket and proceeded to clicking his tongue.

"M' fine." He mumbled coldly, not even daring to look at this roommate. There it was. The feeling that has been silently eating Saruhiko from the inside. Like, he would suddenly find it impossible to breathe, caused by the rather wild heartbeat and he'd feel at lost, baffled on what to do and how to act around Yata.

"Really? You look kinda dozy, you're not catching a cold are you?"

"I said I'm fine, didn't I?!" He didn't know why, but he snapped at the brunet, yelling that sentence at the top of his lungs before clicking his tongue in annoyance. Now that he was fully awake, his mind started working right once more. What the hell was wrong with me? He thought. He didn't mean to snap at him, he didn't understand why he wanted to touch the brunet either, he just felt mildly irritated. The reason why, he himself didn't know.

"A-ah, okay then, that's good. I'm almost done with dinner so you just wait for a little while." He heard Misaki walking away with heavy steps before guilt overwhelmed him for snapping at the brunet.

Fushimi has always been the type of guy who would word out everything he had in his mind bluntly, regardless of the other person's feelings. He had no problem doing so his whole life. He could always tell Misaki to not come near him for a while to make sure the strange feeling inside of him dies down. But he knew he couldn't. He wouldn't want that to happen.

"And why's that?"

Fushimi Saruhiko opened his eyes to the bright light surfacing down the opened window on the wall above him. It was bright and cold at the same time, he noted. His back ached all over the place from sleeping on such cold, hard ground. It was pretty stupid to be sleeping on the floor right next to his own bed in the middle of winter like that. But the black-haired just couldn't care less.

"Misaki." He called out, voice slurred. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep that instant, he knew he'd freeze to death if someone don't either give him a blanket or close the window above him. And it's way too troublesome to do it all himself, so he called out to his companion once more.

"Misaki… I need a blanket." He rolled on the floor sleepily. Even his calls for Misaki sounded almost too low and inaudible for anyone in the room to hear. Saruhiko suddenly remembered; ah, that guy would definitely be pissed if he finds out I'm sleeping on the floor again. He reminisced and chuckled instead, he couldn't possibly miss the fun out of angering the brunet. Knowing how angry Yata would probably be to see him lying on the floor with the window open in the middle of winter like so, Fushimi didn't bother to move onto the bed.

"Misaki?" He called out once more, half-awake now, hearing nothing but silence in response. He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Misa—" This time, a sudden realization hit the third-in-command right in the head. His eyes widened almost comically and he immediately shot up into sitting position. For a moment, Fushimi felt a wave of grief filling his insides, then come the irony of it all.

What did he even expect to happen? That Misaki would waltz into the room carrying blankets with that stupid grin on his face? What answered him was unbearable silence, echoing from the inside of Scepter 4's dorm room. His current home. This wasn't even the apartment they used to share anymore, he'd discard everything related to Misaki out of his life actually.

He really shouldn't be talking around when he's clearly half-asleep.

He chuckled lowly, feeling like the world's biggest idiot. His chuckles increased until it came to a point where it sounded like a manic laughter. The laughter eventually died out as he buried his head on top of his knees and exhaled inwardly. How does he even make these type of mistakes? After he wakes up, almost every day of every week after he'd left HOMRA, he somehow felt as if he was still living his old life. Still in their large, empty, comfortable apartment, still with Misaki. He didn't know why he longed for the previous life he had with the brunet.

He was the one who left, so why does it seem like he's the one regretting that the most, even until now?

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone's buzzes. Fushimi reached out and held it for a while, suddenly reminiscing the old wristwatch PDA he gave his ex-comrade back in the days and how he still kept it, up until now. Heck, every little thing evolving around him lately, reminded himself of the past he was trying to forget. And it never fails to hurt him each and every time.

"Hello?" He answered the call in a dull tone.

"Fushimi, there's been an emergency dispatch! We need you right at the crime scene this instance." The voice of his lieutenant resounded through the phone's speaker. Fushimi couldn't help the feeling of disappointment swelling up inside. Disappointment towards what, he didn't know.

"Yeah, be right there." He mumbled a short response and hung up on the call. Boring. The word kept repeating itself inside of his head all the while.

Saruhiko leaned his head on the bed behind him, before quietly sneezing from the cold.

"Ah! Saru! You're still doing that nasty habit of yours to sleep on the floor with the window open?" Fushimi Saruhiko opened his eyes to blinding bright lights. Up above him, stood 24 years old Yata Misaki, a frown visible on his annoyed face. Though he was clearly frowning, he was holding thick blankets in his hands.

Why does this feel so nostalgic somehow?

"One day, you'll seriously catch a serious cold, don't come crawling to me when that happens." Misaki huffed in annoyance, Fushimi plainly stared at him with a blank stare. This type of scenario had happened once, but he just couldn't quite point out when. But even after all the years spent knowing Misaki, Saruhiko just couldn't erase the lingering feeling inside him, one he'd had since god knows when. Nothing about that changed.

The feeling still clutches his guts every time he was with the brunet. But luckily, as time went by, he'd learned how to handle and cope with said feeling. Just as he always do, Fushimi reaches his hand forwards, towards Misaki.

"I wanna touch Misaki." He mumbled lowly. This time, his roommate heard him loud and clear. Misaki felt heat rushing up to his cheeks and Saruhiko could've sworn, the red painted all over his face spread even to his neck. He couldn't help but smile at the adorable reaction.

"W-what're you talking about? Wake up, Saru, go wash your face." Misaki huffed in embarrassment and was about to turn away when Saruhiko's hand reached out further and grabbed the brunet by the arm, pulling him down towards the floor. The shorter boy yelped in shock before flopping right on top of him.

"I am fully awake." Saruhiko smirked, pulling Misaki's body closer onto his. His hands were around Misaki's tiny waist and by then, he was nuzzling the crook of his nose towards the brunet's neck, feeling his chestnut-colored hair tickling his face. He took it all in, Misaki's scent, his hair, the smoothness of his skin. And he loved it, every single part of it.

"Wait! S-stop, you're tickling my neck! Idiot Saru!" Misaki tried pulling out of his death grip for a while, before completely melting underneath his touch. Fushimi started nuzzling his hair towards Yata's bare neck, causing him to laugh aloud in such carefree manner. Fushimi couldn't possibly express how fond he was of his laughing voice. He couldn't help but suppress a wide smile of his own.

After the laughter slowly disappeared, Saruhiko's hands loosened around Misaki's body. Freed, the brunet raised himself up a bit, pinning Saruhiko onto the ground with a smirk on his face. Hazel eyes met dark blue ones and looking at it up-close, Fushimi never realized how especially intriguing Misaki's orbs were.

"Can't believe it took us all these years, Saruhiko. All these years for us to fix it right up again." Misaki smiled and Saruhiko knew what he was talking about.

"Isn't it because you were being completely oblivious the whole time, Misaki? You really are an idiot." The other boy responded, slurring his voice to piss the brunet off. Instead, Yata responded with a laughter and playfully punched the black-haired in the shoulder, muttering a short 'shut up'.

"Says the person who took 5 fucking years to deal with his own feelings." Yata pulled up into a sitting position, still on top of the smirking black haired.

"9 years, actually. But I managed to fix everything back, didn't I?" This earned another series of laughter from the brunet. Fushimi crooked out a genuine smile. He pushed himself up so that they were both sitting before cupping Misaki's cheek and pulling his face closer to his, bumping their foreheads together. The gesture sent a new shade of red surging across the shorter boy's face. Cute. Fushimi's lips twisted into a playful smirk.

Fushimi leaned in closer before closing his eyes, as he closed in on the gap between the two of them and crashed his lips against Misaki's. It was an awkward and sloppy kiss to say the least, it didn't even involve any tongue movement, just an innocent short peck on the other's lips. Misaki tensed up at the sudden movement before going limp, surprisingly kissing him back. His hand traveled up upon Saruhiko's back and rested there, clenching on his shirt.

Everything felt perfect, like it was all where and how it was supposed to be.

The moment Saruhiko broke the contact and pulled back, he opened his eyes where hazel eyes were already staring at him, only him. There was a small smile on Misaki's face, the shades of red on his face hasn't even disappeared yet. Saruhiko pulled his body towards him, pulling him into a suffocating hug. It was like he hasn't had enough of Misaki. He probably never does, never will. The two didn't move for the longest of time.

Burying his head in the crook of Yata's neck Saruhiko lets out a small chuckle.

"Saru?"

"I love you, Misaki." He sincerely smiled and it actually felt good. Gradually, Saruhiko found that easier to say to the brunet.