Miso Soup and The Taste of Your Love

Part 5

Summary:

Yuto wants to forget his grim past, now that he's with Ryosuke. He's thankful they have found their way to each other.
But sometimes gray cloud comes without warning, and when it rains, it pours.

"Thank God, you're mine."

"Your hair is black now? Seriously? You're changing your hair colour way too much!" Yuto yells from the front door, a usual black bag for sleeping over dangling on his shoulder. A frown drawn on his face at catching sight of Ryosuke's new appearance.

"You know the drill, Yuto. It's a for a drama." Ryosuke is already in the kitchen, pouring juice into a glass and walks towards Yuto, offering it to him.

"Oh, thank you." For a few seconds, he's sort of forgetting what he said earlier when the fresh juice starts gliding down his throat.

"Hmm, did you make this yourself?" Yuto reaches out for Ryosuke's waists, arms pulling closer and puckers him on the lips.

Ryosuke smiles when their lips detach from each other. While running his fingers on Yuto's hair, he mutters a yes, and suddenly his desire drags him to take turn and kiss Yuto. He does so, pulling Yuto down to his level and kisses him like he's the king, or queen, either way he's the one claiming control. Taking Yuto with both arms, they stumble upon their favourite spot to make out, embracing each other and running their hands everywhere. Shirts are scattered, and nibbles are delivered all over Ryosuke's upper body as he keeps pulling Yuto closer.

"Do you like my new hair?" Ryosuke smears his words on Yuto's lips before crashing yet again.

"It looks cute on you." Yuto answers before shoving his tongue, asserting power upon Ryosuke.

"Thank God."

"Thank God, you're mine."

;

Somehow, Yuto's arms are always warm, wrapping Ryosuke like he goes back in time being a baby. His kind heart lights him up, taking him over with each touch. That kind of blessing is something that always gets Ryosuke through the day. Even on some days when he's too worn out to face another day, seeing Yuto sleeping soundly beside him somehow offers him new power. He wakes up then, always before Yuto and without making any noise. He keeps his voice down and enters the most treasured room in his home: kitchen.

Cooking is one of Ryosuke's favourite things to do. Furthermore, by having Yuto around he's always tempted to serve his partner his best homemade dishes. One thing that he never misses every day is making miso soup. It's not just a normal miso soup, – or at least that's what Yuto always tells him – he pours all his feelings into cooking it. His mum told him once when he was a kid that one of the secrets for a happy family is a warm breakfast. She used to cook miso soup every morning, accompanied with piping hot rice and grilled fish. Hearty bowls of miso soup were arranged on the table, and as his father appeared, she would serve him some tea with the warmest smile.

Ryosuke smiles when the images appear in his mind. He wants to recreate such scene with Yuto, now that he's separated from his parents and sisters.

"It's delicious. Thanks for cooking, baby."

Those words always give him an extraordinary kind of power.

"It's my pleasure, always. You need to stop saying thank you for it."

"Why? I say it cause I feel thankful." Yuto glances at Ryosuke who's smiling genuinely, and ever so gingerly moves over to Yuto to offer him some more soup. Yuto nods, in his heart serenading a melody about his gratitude of living and loving this much. Life is blissful.