Mornings
One of the things Satoshi quickly learned about Daisuke was that he often woke up having fervent, internal monologues with Dark. Their first morning together, Daisuke had woken with a yelp and sat straight up, face flushed a brilliant shade of red as he gaped helplessly at the wall, fingers curled in the bed sheets. It had taken a moment for Satoshi to figure out what was going on, helped along by Daisuke's embarrassed groan of "Dark" as the flaming young man tried to bury his head in his hands.
"Quiet, Dark," Satoshi murmured as he took Daisuke's hands, kissing the young man soundly. In response, Daisuke clasped firm hands at the base of Satoshi's neck, no doubt trying to kiss the niggling voice out of his head.
Another morning, Satoshi had awoken to find himself next to Dark. He'd stared impassively at the dark haired young man, until the smug look on Dark's face disappeared and the body morphed into Daisuke's slim form, the redhead muttering, "sorry," when he found himself faced with the stern look.
"Tell Dark that just because I accept him …" Satoshi let the sentence trail off, a small smile flitting across his face as Daisuke grinned.
It certainly made things more interesting, having to love the both of them together.