Damn lazy monkey, Misaki grumbles internally, lugging heavy boxes up the last flight of stairs leading to the open door of his-well their apartment technically. The small boy smiles to himself, cheeks heating up slightly (but he blames that on the heat of the day and the blaring sun).
Saruhiko follows his once-again flatmate upstairs, easily carrying the last small cardboard box from the moving van under his arm. He takes the steps one at a time; he's in no hurry, and, the view from here is nice. He slips on his trademark smirk as he blatantly stares at Misaki's ass.
"Oi, Saru! I can practically hear that damn smirk from here you perv!" Miskai yells, surely alerting the neighbors to the newcomers. All he gets in response is an amused snort. This time he can't blame the blush on the midday sun. Today the redhead had ditched his usual red hoodie and white sweatshirt thinking he would be miserable in so many layers while moving.
Misaki recalls the look Saruhiko had given him when he'd shown up at his friend's-no, no, boyfriend's-now old flat. The raven haired male had leered at him, taking his sweet time to look the shorter up and down as if he were undressing him with his eyes. Misaki had shifted on his feet and turned away from his newly appointed boyfriend blushing furiously.
Saruhiko himself was stripped of his formal Scepter 4 uniform. In place, he had thrown on a loose, white tank top and dark skinny jeans. Misaki would be lying if he said he hadn't been pleased with the other's attire as well. There was no doubt Fushimi Saruhiko was definitely easy on the eyes even back in their middle school days.
Misaki had always felt a little inadequate, a little insecure, standing next to the tall beauty. He had always wondered-and still did-what it was that drew his Saru to him.
Scepter 4's third in command could of course list a million reasons why his Misaki was so appealing to him. The soft red curls that always seemed in disarray, those huge, shining hazel eyes that looked at him as if he carried the whole world in his palm-Saruhiko thought Misaki was a sight to behold. Of course, he'd never let any of those thoughts slip as he was only fluent in snark and condescension.
Misaki finally made it to their open apartment nearly dropping the heavy boxes on the first open space of carpeted floor he could find. He stood up straight stretching his arms above his head, breathing heavily, more than ready to flop down right there on the floor. Before he got the chance, Saruhiko's footsteps sounded in the hall outside, and Miskai whipped around to stop him from entering just yet.
"Stop right there!" the vanguard shouted at the openly startled braniac. Misaki stepped outside to join his boyfriend and held out a hand demanding the box under Saruhiko's arm be handed over. The taller boy complied easily but with confusion etched on his sharp features.
The redhead snatched the box and ran inside with a "don't you dare move, monkey!" thrown over his shoulder. So, there Saruhiko stood, confused over his boyfriend's antics until the boy came sprinting back to him positively beaming.
"Wha-," Saruhiko began before being so rudely interrupted by his boyfriend standing on the tips of his toes to kiss him square on the mouth, excitement practically radiating off of him. Really, Saruhiko was confused, but he could hardly be mad at such an adorable display of affection. At least that's what he thought until the small boy pulled away and crouched down to hook an arm under the taller's knees and lifted him straight off the ground and into Misaki's arms.
"Misaki what the fresh fuck?! Put me down this instant." The boy currently struggling in the redhead's arms demanded, shooting daggers up at the rotten punk.
Misaki's laughter was filled with joy as he spoke. "Shut it, monkey. I did all the heavy lifting today while your lazy ass took all the small stuff. You brought this on yourself asshole. Besides," Misaki turned on his heel with ease starting to walk back towards the open door, "I've got one last thing to carry over the threshold of our new home." Misaki spoke proudly as he crossed the threshold to their home carrying his adorably disgruntled boyfriend bridal style with him.
Not even the annoyed click of a tongue or the unhappy downturn of Saru's mouth could ruin this moment for Misaki.
Through all their fighting and teenage angst, they had found their way back to each other. At long last, they had made it home.