It’s cold, the streetlamps shining through the window makes it hard to fall asleep, and somewhere a dog barks. Suga wonders if Daichi is still awake.
A quick glance to his right reveals nothing much; just a Daichi-shaped lump under the blanket. He turns slowly, trying not to wake the other, and inches closer. Daichi shifts a little and he stiffens, thinking that he had woken him, but relaxes once nothing else happens. It takes him a minute more to finally cross the small gap between their futons, but for Suga it feels like an eternity. Once on the other side, he gingerly lifts a corner of the blanket and wriggles underneath.
He has no reason for doing this except for want. He wants to be close to Daichi, to feel the other’s heart beat, and to let his steady breaths lull him to sleep. Slowly, he comes to rest his forehead against Daichi’s broad back, feeling contended with just that tiny bit of contact. Is it stupid to be happy over something like this? Suga wonders, his eyelids sliding lower. It’s only a little bit, but Daichi makes me happy. I like being next to him like this, even if he doesn’t know it. And it is true, Suga knows that. Daichi can’t possibly know how his smile makes Suga feel warm inside, or how his voice helps to calm the troubled waters of his mind. If Suga is a ship on the restless ocean, Daichi is the lighthouse that guides him home.
No, not even that, because Daichi is home.
Daichi is his rock, his warm place. In their crazy lives filled with haywire team mates and changing uncertainties, Daichi is always the one constant thing that he can count on. And in this one quiet moment, Suga decides that he’ll be a constant for Daichi too. “I love you, Sawamura Daichi.” He whispers, and his eyes finally slide shut.
Daichi slowly turns around and gathers Suga into his arms. “I love you too, Suga.”