『Morning』▷ mashikyu。

kiss

"Mashi?" Junkyu asked, careful as he whispered to the sleeping male. Mashiho was wrapped up in his arms, eyes shut, breathing even enough to be presumed asleep. Still, he called out, wondering if he could get a response.

He didn't, and that was more than enough to ascertain that the other was fast asleep. He exhaled softly, breath brushing lightly against Mashiho's cheek, fingers threading softly across the foreign male's back and through his hair. It was an action that Mashiho would usually do to him as a way to make him feel more comfortable, but today it was his turn to do the same for the other.

Mashiho had gone home dejected that day. He had been so cheery, so happy when he left this morning, and yet when he came home he could barely keep a false smile on his face.

Junkyu truly wanted to know just what kind of people Mashiho's friends were. Yesterday the latter said that his friend had cancelled their meeting and therefore looked down, and it had taken a whole day of cuddling to get him to cheer up again. And now, after going out with his so-called friends, he came home with a sag in his shoulders that were nothing but a sign that he was fatigued, mentally and emotionally.

It felt so unfair to see him this way yet being unable to do anything. He was, after all, getting helped by the boy day after day, and yet here he was— he couldn't even ask about what had transpired, and neither could he give the littlest comfort.

You're perfect.

You're beautiful, sweets. I love you.

Mashiho's words echoed in his mind, sweet nothings that spilled out of rosy lips replaying ceaselessly in his memory. He placed both palms on Mashiho's cheeks, pursing his lips in preparation as an idea formulated in his head.

"Mashiho," he spoke softly yet audibly. "Are you asleep?"

Unsurprisingly, three dots on a script was the boy's reply.

Confidence and reassurance flooded his veins, washing away the embarrassment that nearly engulfed him seconds ago.

"You're so adorable," it was hard to find the right words, but he managed to say. "You're the cutest in the world. When you're sad, it hurts my heart."

Two thumbs played with pale yet plump cheeks, as if wiping away tears that weren't even there.

"You're supposed to be always happy, always smiling. So why are you always sad? What makes you sad? Who does? I may not know anything, but I'm here for you. You know that, right, muffin? So when you're sad, please just tell me. I'll make you the happiest in the world. I'll give you all the cuddles, kisses and praises that you want."

It was sort of hard to admit, but he knew that Mashiho was more than just a friend to him, although he wasn't quite past that boundary either. It was so vague and unclear, something so undiscussed about, and it didn't help that neither of them really cared all that much.

As far as Junkyu was concerned, no normal friends have kissed multiple times yet stayed as so, and two boys who always slept while spooning each other weren't a common case either. However, to talk about their relationship almost felt ludicrous. As if the idea itself was something that none of them would even consider.

That was, he gauged, likely caused by the sense of kinship and the unmistakable harmony that always seemed to concert their feelings with each other like an intricate embroidery. And to be honest, he didn't see the problem in that. Whatever their relationship may be perceived by others, it didn't matter and would not affect what it was that the two of them have.

To Junkyu, Mashiho was his salvation, and that was all that mattered.

"Will you really?"

His hands froze as two round eyes fluttered open to gaze into his own, and all of a sudden Mashiho was awake, and he had heard everything that Junkyu had said.

Shades of pink spread across the Korean's cheeks.

"W-what... you I..." he sputtered, trying his best to collect the correct words to say. "Mashiho, I—"

"Then, if I ask for cuddles, will you give me?"

It was silent for five whole seconds before Junkyu gulped loudly, pushing his flummox down his throat as he answered with a nod. "Yes, I will," he said.

"Then, if I ask you to sing me praises all day long, will you do it?"

He nodded again.

A small, genuine smile began to bloom on Mashiho's erstwhile sullen lips, his hands snaking onto Junkyu's waist and wrapping him up in a hug.

"Then, if I ask for kisses, will you kiss me?"

Junkyu hadn't been sure how to answer.

After all, even if they had kissed multiple times the night he had suffered a panic attack, they had never really kissed again afterwards.

So when he found himself unable to open his lips up to answer, he was truly thankful.

Thankful that he no longer needed to think of a response, because Mashiho had already made his decision and pressed their lips together in a close mouthed kiss, rendering him unable to speak.

It was a short, sweet kiss unlike last time. It lasted not more than three or four seconds, but it was still the same as the heartfelt kisses they had shared before. Sweet, loving, caring. Warmth spread across his cheeks and his pulsating four chambers, and he was sure that Mashiho felt the same.

So a second time that day, they kissed again.

Lips against lips with no fervor or heat, simply feelings paired with one another in a fruitful attempt to make each other happy because that was what they believed that they both needed be.

Mashiho smiled as they parted, then quickly pushed back for another kiss.

Who cared if he was being targeted and nearly killed every week? He surely didn't. It didn't matter if he was abandoning his own family for the sake of safety, because frankly, they could all suffer in the depths of hell and he would barely care.

( Asahi? Who the hell even was that?

He had chosen to forget that name long ago, so he didn't really care about whoever that is anymore. )

As far as he was concerned, Junkyu was slowly but steadily becoming his world, and that was all that really mattered.