YuMark One-Shots

ʀᴀɪɴʏ ᴅᴀʏs🌧

It was days like this, days with the rain beating on the bedroom window that he loved.

The reason?

The sound sound of the rain, the smell in the air.

The solemn feelings.

The feeling of inner peace.

Mark.

He loved rainy mornings, those mornings where the rain would lull Mark back to sleep.

Mark would awaken and rub his eyes, only to fall back asleep seconds later.

Yuta would simply watch and run his fingers through the younger's hair.

After a while Yuta would make his way into the kitchen. He'd brew a pot of coffee, and while waiting he'd choose a book from the vast collection the had in their apartment. By the time he finally found one worthy of reading, the coffee would be done.

So, he'd pour himself a cup then make his way back into the bedroom.

He would cuddle up under the warm blankets once again, opening his book at the same time.

A couple hours later Mark would awaken again, this time cuddling into Yuta's side.

"What are you reading this time?" He'd ask.

Yuta would respond with the title, only to receive a nod.

"What's happened so far?" Mark would ask.

And so Yuta would tell him.

"Read to me." Mark would say.

And Yuta would.

Eventually Mark would get hungry, and complain about feeling gross.

So Yuta would remove himself from the warmth of their bed. He'd draw a bath for his lover, then move to the kitchen to make breakfast.

By the time Mark would finish his bath, breakfast would be done.

The smell of eggs and bacon and toast would fill the air. The sound of grumbling stomachs carrying across the room like a symphony.

Light conversation would travel as they ate.

"How'd you sleep my love?" Yuta would ask.

"I slept well." Mark would respond.

"What would you like to watch today?"

Another part of the day Yuta loved.

Watching a TV show with his love.

Mark would respond with a show. The same or new.

And they would spend the day watching it.

At dinner, neither would want to cook.

"Let's just make some ramen." Mark would say.

And of course, Yuta would comply.

The couple would move fluidly around the kitchen, dancing around each other like the rain drops outside.

While the water heated up, Yuta would start to hum a tune. Soon the humming would turn to lyrics, usually about his love for Mark.

They would move towards one another, and move in a slow waltz around the apartment.

Dancing as the rain hit the windows; keeping time.

That night they would share a bath together.

Sweet words would turn to sweet exchanges and sweet kisses.

Sweet kisses would turn to sweet pleasures.

That was Yuta's favorite part of the night.

It was all sweet.

The sounds.

The smell in the air.

The feeling.

Rainy days.

Oh how Yuta loves them.

ᴏᴋᴀʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ,, ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏɴ ʀᴀɪɴʏ ᴅᴀʏs-
ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇs ʟᴏᴠᴇs,, ɪᴍ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ
ɪ ʜᴀᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ɴᴇᴡ ғɪᴄs ɪᴍ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ
ɢᴜɴs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏsᴇs -ʏᴜᴍᴀʀᴋ
ᴀɴᴅ
ᴏᴅᴅɪɴᴀʀʏ -ʜʏᴜɴʟɪx
ɢᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ
ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ