"You have pretty eyes."
It's not the compliment that confuses Toudou. He's used to compliments, preens in the warm glow of other's appreciation without thinking about it most of the time. It's that he hears the words, and he recognizes the voice, and then he looks up and Makishima is blushing weirdly pink, and even then he can't understand what he just heard.
"Sorry, what?"
He's watching Makishima this time, staring at the other boy's mouth so he can be sure. Makishima goes darker, ducks his head and refuses to meet Toudou's gaze, but then he coughs and says it again, and Toudou's watching this time so he's certain it's Makishima speaking. "You have pretty eyes."
"I." Toudou's head is buzzing faintly, he can't process what is happening. "Are you complimenting me, Maki-chan?"
The other boy glances up at him, quick and self-conscious; then he looks away again. "You like getting compliments."
That triggers something in the echoing silence of Toudou's head, some long-forgotten memory from what must have been nearly a year ago, some off-hand complaint about how Makishima never compliments him, isn't he pretty enough to deserve a compliment from his boyfriend? But Makishima had mumbled some weak agreement, changed the subject as fast as possible, and Toudou had forgotten all about it.
"I do," he finally manages, still staring at Makishima. "Do you have more?"
Makishima grins, the sharp edge of true amusement under the expression, and when he lifts his face up into the light Toudou has a brief premonition that he just asked for a lot more than he's able to actually handle.
"Your hair is beautiful," Makishima says, resting his elbow on the table in front of him so he can prop his head on his hand and watch Toudou's expression. "It looks nice with the headband but it looks better when it's down."
Toudou tries to take a breath and can't. The air gets stuck somewhere in his throat, twists into a whine that makes Makishima's grin spread wider across his face. Toudou's pretty sure he's forgotten how to blink, though he's not sure what his expression is doing, exactly; the shock in his head is too all-encompassing to allow for anything as trivial as self-awareness.
"I like the way you look on your bike," Makishima goes on, and he is absolutely trying to kill Toudou, the other boy can't breathe and Makishima is still talking, his words gaining unexpected weight from the nasal deadpan of his voice. "You look good all the time, but you look like you belong on your bike." He looks as amused as Toudou has ever seen him, that grin is starting to sparkle up into his eyes now too, turning the blue bright and clear instead of shadowed with his usual defensive sarcasm. "It's hard for me to look at anything but you."
Toudou would lift a hand to cover his mouth if he could move his body. But his arms are infinitely heavy, his hands limp and open in his lap and all the deliberate posture lost from his spine with the deliberate expression on his face, and Makishima is still talking, tipping his head farther as he goes on like he's analyzing Toudou's reaction. "Your eyes light up when you smile."
Toudou manages to blink, forces himself into the reflexive action. His skin is starting to burn, his cheeks are going warm as if Makishima's gaze is bringing blood rising responsive to the surface. He's heard all this before, none of this is new, he knows everything Makishima is saying, but the difference between the opinion of the world and the opinion of Makishima is turning out to be far greater than he imagined, this is too much too fast.
"Stop," he grates, but Makishima just keeps smiling in a way that says no even before he goes on.
"I like listening to you talk," and oh, that is not fair, Toudou can feel his eyes welling with tears even before Makishima goes on. "I don't want you to know how much I like hearing your voice when you call me."
Toudou whines, half-protest and half-encouragement, and Makishima tips his head down into shadow and his smile goes soft at the corners, drops out of teasing and into the warmth of sincerity. "I always pick up so I can listen to you."
"Stop." Toudou finally gets his hands up, covers his mouth while he blinks his eyes into overflow. "Oh my god, Maki-chan, stop."
"Do you not like it?" Makishima asks without looking away.
"I do," Toudou protests. He can feel his cheeks flushed red under his fingers, unfamiliar color staining his face until he doesn't know how to calm down. "It's too much, I just." He kind of wants to wipe his eyes but he can't look away from the other boy, Makishima is still watching him and he can't look away from the reassurance that he's not being teased. "Are you serious?"
Makishima shrugs, looking like he's trying to adjust himself into his body, but he's still smiling, still watching Toudou with that softness in his eyes. "Yeah."
"Oh my god," Toudou says again, and drops one hand to reach out for Makishima's shoulder. The other boy lets him, doesn't pull away from the weight of Toudou's head coming down against his shirtfront, and after a moment a tentative touch brushes against the back of Toudou's neck.
"I didn't think anything could make you blush," Makishima says after a minute. Toudou can hear the tension of a laugh at the back of the other boy's throat even as the fingers against his skin slide gentle comfort into the almost-panic in Toudou's shoulders.
"You can," Toudou says without moving away.
"Apparently," Makishima agrees. He still sounds like he's about to laugh, but he doesn't quite, and after a minute Toudou is the one who starts to laugh - sincerely, if somewhat hysterically - against Makishima's shoulder.