Chapter Text
Saruhiko grumbled under his breath as he stirred, already able to tell that it was too early for him to be awake. He had never been a morning person, although he had got used to them while working with Scepter 4, and he had perfected the art of knowing when he was supposed to be up, and right now it was too early. It didn’t take him long to work out why though, even without opening his eyes, he could feel the gaze that was watching his every move and fighting the smile he could feel tugging at his lips he clicked his tongue.
“What are you doing?”
“Watching you…” He almost snorted at the obviousness of that reply, but there was something in the quiet voice that stopped him, and he slowly opened his eyes and looked across at where Misaki was laid propped up on one elbow, watching him intently. It wasn’t just his voice was off, there was an emotion that he couldn’t quite put a name too in the vanguard’s expression, one that he had seen more and more the last few days, but had waited, trusting that Misaki would talk to him. After all, the former red wasn’t known for his patience, especially when it came to him, and yet here they were, staring at one another and he was still no closer to understanding what was going on in his partner’s mind.
“Why?” That got a reaction, just not the one that he had been expecting as Misaki coloured slightly, but didn’t look away or scoff, or give him some half-formed excuse. Instead, he seemed almost thoughtful – which was a worrying realisation, because age had not brought wisdom and Misaki was as wild and reckless as ever – and Saruhiko frowned before shuffling closer. “Misaki? What is going on?” Patience be damned, he was growing worried now.
“I don’t know…” Misaki admitted after a long moment, and Saruhiko narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t lying. Even before they had reconciled, he had known when the vanguard was lying to him, but he wasn’t telling him the entire truth either, but the confusion in his partner’s eyes wasn’t feigned. Nor was the slight tremor as he reached out to run fingers across Saru’s cheek, looking at him as though he was seeing him for the first time, and Saruhiko’s breath caught at the tenderness in that expression. “I think…”
“You think?” Saruhiko prompted when Misaki trailed off, catching the hand as it went to fall away, and lifting it to his lips and kissing it lightly. “Talk to me,” he added, using the words that Misaki had used against him so often, the promise they had made in the early days of their reconciliation when they were still finding their way towards something new.
“I wake up with you every day,” Misaki murmured, smiling to show that it wasn’t a complaint. “I fall asleep with you each night. This…” He lifted the hand that wasn’t caught in Saru’s to gesture at the room around them, the flat that they had found and bought together once they were confident enough in their future. “Is more my home than HOMRA these days.” There was a hint of loss then, but not of grief. The realisation of a bird that had left its nest, a child finding their own place in the world. A step that at times, Saruhiko had wondered if the vanguard would ever be able to take, and his breath caught, squeezing the hand he was holding as he encouraged him to continue. “And sometimes it scares me,” he admitted so quietly that Saruhiko had to lean in to catch the words.
“Why?”
“Because we could have lost this before we ever had it,” Misaki whispered, and Saruhiko grimaced. That was an old fear, one that had kept him awake many times in the early stages of this new relationship, as though he was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for one of them to say the wrong thing, to do something that would shatter the fragile peace and send them straight back to the twisted, broken thing they’d had before. Time and Misaki had gradually eased that fear, but there were still some nights that he awoke wondering if it had all been a dream, only to be soothed by the warmth of Misaki curled beside him.
“But we didn’t,” he said finally, squeezing Misaki’s hand and kissing it again before moving closer. Misaki was the one who had chased his doubts away, stubborn and warm, refusing to let him retreat again, and now it was his turn to return the favour. “We’re right here,” he added, trapping their linked hands between them as he pressed close. “Together,” he kissed Misaki on the lips, lingering and warm, waiting until his partner melted into it before moving on. “In the home that we made together.” He kissed the tip of Misaki’s nose, smirking as the vanguard wrinkled it in response, before littering pink cheeks with delicate kisses. Each one a promise, a declaration that this was real, that it wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he.