A short drabble to celebrate Renzou's birthday! I hope everyone has a safe and happy Fourth of July!
When he wakes up, it's to the sensation of Yukio's hair tickling the side of his neck. Except, that's not the first thing Renzou consciously registers. There is a body pressed against his own, a knee dangling over the space between his legs. Renzou can feel Yukio's warm skin pressing into his own, thigh to thigh, a heavy arm over his bare stomach, toes just a breath away from touching his ankle.
Renzou squirms a little, tries to think past the fog slowly clearing from his head. When he opens his eyes again, he notices it's still dark out, with no sign of the sun within the sight of their bedroom window.
He glances down, licks his lips and grimaces at the taste of his own breath, but only for a moment. A small smile that reaches his eyes wins out as his stomach curls with contentment. He reaches up and rests his hand on the head lying on top of his chest. His fingers thread into the soft, dark locks; his thumb stretches and slides down the delicate curve of Yukio's earlobe.
Yukio, on his part, doesn't move at all. He is out like a light and as heavy as a rock. Renzou lets him sleep, knows how much he needs it in the first place, and instead closes his eyes. He's hot, the uncomfortably sticky kind of hot, but the sound of the AC stirring awake in the background convinces Renzou not to do anything about it. He's always been oversensitive when it came to temperature but he can put up with his discomfort for a few more minutes. After all, this was the type of warmth that didn't want to let go of it just yet. After waiting for Yukio to come home from his two week long mission, Renzou wants nothing more than to stay together like this all day.
"I missed ya," he confesses in a low husky whisper, the heartfelt words wrapping around Yukio like a blanket of affection. Yukio responds this time, shifting closer and tucking in his arm a little. His elbows digs into Renzou's ribs and his fingers catch onto the fabric of Renzou's shirt and when they curl among the wrinkles, tugging, Renzou feels his stomach curl again. The emotion he feels isn't one he can simply describe. It's warm, like the first rays of sunlight that peek in through their window every morning; sweet, like the first slice of cake he tried five years ago to this day, homemade by Yukio himself. Renzou thinks of the old ache he used to feel in his fingers after writing one of the long letters that filled their childhood. He thinks of the taste of the cotton candy they had on their first unofficial date. He thinks of their first kiss: Yukio's breath catching in his throat as Renzou caught Yukio's lips with his own.
Renzou smiles, beams really. He can't hold in the feeling anymore. He lifts his head and cranes his neck a little and kisses the top of Yukio's hair. When he lies back down on his pillow, Renzou's gaze lingers on Yukio for a while more, soft and tender, before allowing his eyelids to close and his breath to even out.
This was the start of a great birthday.