daisuga; home is lazy sunday afternoons with you, years and years from now.
“Daichi, can you pass me my tea?”
Socked feet nudge against his back. “Daaaiiiiichiiiiiii!”
Squirming to stop Suga from assaulting him more with his feet, Daichi relents, reaching across the table for the mug. “Why did you put it there when you’re sitting behind me?”
“Because you make such a good foot rest, darling.” Suga winks at him wtih that silly grin of his. Daichi just shakes his head.
They fall back into comfortable silence, the sound of afternoon traffic muffled from the half-closed windows. Taro lays curled up next to Daichi, half inside the kotatsu and huffing slightly every so often in her dreams. Daichi strokes her smooth fur absentmindedly as he flips through his newspaper. Behind him, sitting with his knees pulled up and in a way that can’t be good for his back, Suga scrolls down his tablet at all the magazines and e-newsletters he subscribed to. It’s a slow sunday afternoon, the weather outside too muggy and their schedules finally allowing for a day in.
As he’s flipping the page, a yawn interrupts Daichi. He feels Suga shift behind him, until he’s sitting up with both legs on either side of Daichi, tablet thrown onto the couch cushions. Daichi hears a yawn echoing his own.
“All your fault, Daichi,” Suga says, resting his elbows on Daichi’s shoulders.
Tilting his head up to catch Suga’s drowsy expression, Daichi smiles. “Sorry.”
Suga hums, a finger poking Daichi’s nose idly. His hair’s grown longer, messily framing his face when he doesn’t tuck it behind his ears. But the regal cheekbones are the same, the proud nose, that trademark mole under his left eye. But those large hazel eyes are the same, the way they burn sunlight into Daichi whenever they turn his way, the way they seem to glow whenever Suga smiled.
“Daichi,” Suga says, his voice low and mellow, and Daichi blinks slowly. “Daichi, we’re turning into old men, aren’t we?”
Taro startles awake at the sound of Daichi’s laughter, but she only spares the two of a single glance before padding over to another corner of the kotatsu and settling herself under it. Suga grins down at Daichi, his fingers warm where they hold Daichi’s jaw. Their lips meet upside down, but even with their eyes closed and mirth still tugging at the edges of their mouths, they find their way.
They find their way home.