Saruhiko Confessing To Misaki He's The Love Of His Life

Saruhiko confessing to Misaki he's the love of his life

Fushimi stumbles over it quite a bit, trying to find the words to say it because this sort of declaration never fits well in his mouth. Fushimi wants to say it, wants to tell Yata exactly how much he means – 'I love you' isn't adequate enough to describe what he feels every time he looks at Yata, every time Yata smiles in his direction. Fushimi knows every bit of Yata, knows the way that his eyes light up with affection and how he means every word he says, he's learning that when Yata says 'I love you' that Yata feels it with every inch of his body. Sometimes Fushimi thinks he could teach a Masters in Misaki, in the slope of his shoulders and the curve of his back, the beat of his heart and the way that he breathes. 'I love you' is far too simple for what Fushimi wants to tell Yata every time he opens his mouth and somehow even that's so hard to say, his mouth always struggling to form the words, ending in a tongue click when his tongue gets tied, and Yata still just smiles and puts an arm around his shoulders and says it for him, I love you.

But sometimes Fushimi finds the words, lying in bed side by side and brushing Yata's bangs away from his face, whispering it into a kiss against Yata's shoulders, breathing it into Yata's mouth when they're tangled together. In a hundred lifetimes Fushimi knows he wouldn't ever love anyone else, couldn't ever imagine loving anyone else. He loved Yata from the moment Yata came when he called, from the time Yata broke down all his walls and grabbed his hand, dragged him along out of somewhere dark and into the sun, and Fushimi won't ever be able to apologize enough for the way he shattered that paradise. He didn't understand it as love then but he does now – that he loves Yata now and he loved Yata then and when he struggles through the words Yata's breath catches and his eyes shake and then he pulls Fushimi close, both hearts beating fast. Their hands that are usually so sure around each other fumble along buttons and zippers and Yata kisses him so deep Fushimi isn't sure that he can breathe at all beyond what he takes from Misaki's mouth, but that's fine – they were together then, they're together now, and Fushimi clutches at Yata's arms and repeats it under his breath like a chant, an anchor to hold onto, 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'