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For the Rest of Our Lives

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Sometimes, Masamune just wants to hold Ritsu’s hand.

It doesn’t matter what they might be doing, whether they’re at work or on the train or at home—Masamune just has to glance over at Ritsu, and he’ll want to hold his hand. Of course, Ritsu would never allow that to happen—even at home he’s reluctant to let Masamune be affectionate with him—but it’s nice to fantasize about, anyways.

On one night, though, when they’re both actually at home and not dead exhausted from yelling at authors or looking over storyboards, Ritsu turns to him on the bed. The two of them had migrated from the living room to the bedroom when they decided the couch was too small for them to lay comfortably on, and it’s been mostly quiet moments punctuated with meaningless conversations about the first time they’d worn a suit or what their favorite breakfast food is.

Ritsu turns to him on the bed during one of these quiet moments, though, and Masamune feels a sharp stab of fear at the expression on his face. He’s never gotten out of the habit, of wondering what awful thing Ritsu was going to say to him when he looked like this. He’s gotten better at it more recently, but it still takes time.

“Can—” Ritsu begins, then cuts himself off. He looks almost… frustrated, cheeks turning that shade of red that Masamune loves so much. Making a noise under his breath, Ritsu lifts his head and bites out, glaring, “Can I hold your hand?”

Masamune blinks. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Oh, now Ritsu is pouting. That’s so unfair, Masamune thinks. He’s always been weak to Ritsu’s frowns and pouts. He blinks again, then finds himself saying, “Ok. Sure.”

Ritsu makes it look like some Olympic-level feat, hand trembling as it reaches out to touch the back of Masamune’s hand. Fortunately, he doesn’t immediately jerk his hand back; that’d probably hurt Masamune’s self-esteem for a solid three weeks. The very tips of Ritsu’s fingers slide over Masamune’s hand, and—oh.

Somehow, it feels different, Ritsu holding his hand when Masamune is usually the one reaching for Ritsu’s first. It feels… comforting. Ritsu holds his hand like Masamune is deserving of all the love in the world.

A slightly shaky, very enamored smile appears on Masamune’s face before he can stop it. Every single day, Ritsu does something to make Masamune love him all the more. He sighs and flips his hand over so he’s holding Ritsu’s hand back.

Masamune glances up to see Ritsu looking determinedly away from him, but all of the distance in the universe couldn’t prevent him from seeing that content smile on Ritsu’s smile, from feeling Ritsu settle against him with a soft sigh and a warmth that fills Masamune to his very core.

He leans against Ritsu as well, hand in hand, and wonders what they should have for dinner tomorrow.