[Log] Izuru Kira, Yumichika Ayasegawa
Title: Good Morning, Sunshine
Characters: Izuru (soleil_de_lune), Yumi (day_eight)
Timeline: January 22, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Izuru and Yumichika share a brief moment of normalcy.
Yumichika was a light sleeper. Perhaps it was because he’d spent so many nights sleeping with one eye open while he lived at the orphanage. Or maybe he feared missing something important. Regardless of the why, he would often find himself startled out of a deep sleep for no apparent reason. He’d grown accustomed to it long ago, and had since learned how to fall back to sleep in little to no time.
That, however, only worked when he was at home. It took him significantly longer to drift off when he was somewhere else. So long, in fact, that sleeping away from home almost seemed like a chore. But, since the obvious pros of spending the night in someone else’s bed greatly outweighed the cons, he wasn’t going to complain.
And so, after the first rays of morning light gently roused him, Yumi knew that he'd be awake for the rest of the day. He stayed still for a while longer, watching the room grow steadily brighter as he listened to the faint sound of Izuru’s breathing. Once the clock on the nightstand said eight o’clock, he carefully slid out of bed and into his jeans.
Wandering down into the kitchen, the still-sleepy brunet retrieved a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with water from the tap. A giant yawn threatened to crack his jaw as he leaned back against the counter, glass of water in hand, and began contemplating whether or not to start breakfast.
It wasn't that Izuru was a heavy sleeper--he wasn't--as much as when he was relaxed, he was... relaxed. He'd noticed that Yumi had trouble falling asleep when he was over, so he tried not to ask him to do it very often... but it inevitably happened anyway, so he tried not to think about it too often. In this case, he woke up slowly with the faint notion that there was something not quite... right. When he realized what it was--that Yumichika was no longer in the bed--he blinked sleepily, trying to think if he was just muddled in thinking that Yumi had been there the night before.
But, no, there was his shirt. So where was the man?
Contemplating the wisdom of getting out of bed--it was warm--he finally sighed and peeled back the covers after a few moments. It was possible that Yumi had just stepped out, but it had been long enough that that didn't seem entirely likely. It wouldn't have woken him up if Yumi had just slipped out for a moment, and he wasn't going to fall back asleep now. Instead, he pushed his hair out of his face, fumbled for his pants--neatly laid across the back of a chair--and pulled them on.
The house wasn't enormous, but it was big enough that Izuru thought for a moment about where Yumi might have gone before slipping out of the bedroom and starting down the stairs. Morning. Right.
The kitchen it was.
Trying not to make any noise automatically ensures that noise will be made. Yumi was doing his best to be quiet, but every pot and pan seemed determined to thwart him. One particularly unruly spatula managed to wriggle its way out of his grip and onto the tiled floor. The clang made him jump (things always sound much louder when one is half asleep), and he took a moment to put a hand on his hip and scowl at the thing before picking it up and tossing it towards the sink.
In his frustration, he completely forgot that tossing a metal spatula into a ceramic sink isn’t the greatest thing to do when you’re trying to be silent.
Izuru had almost reached the kitchen when a scuffling clatter, followed by a loud metallic banging echoed through the kitchen and out into the hall. Well, seeing as Mrs. Hollings was taking the weekend off as she always did, that would mean it was... Yumichika. Pushing the door open, he paused in the doorway and watched Yumi with a faint, but growing smile. It probably wasn't supposed to be something he found amusing... Or perhaps the giddy, elated feeling was from seeing Yumi, and that was all.
Stepping into the room anyway, he let the door swing shut behind him slowly. "I suppose the sink deserves having something thrown at it. It's been giving me trouble all week, too."
Yumi quit glaring at the spatula long enough to give Izuru a sheepish smile. He wasn’t exactly a morning person, and it showed. The fog in his head was so thick that the phrase he mumbled next barely resembled the ‘good morning’ it was supposed to be.
After giving the sink-and the spatula in it-one last scowl, he went back to his previous task.
Only... he couldn’t really remember what he’d be doing. He looked around blankly, eyelids still heavy with the remnants of sleep.
“Breakfast... I think.”
Izuru had the fortune of being someone who, once awake, was awake. Maybe he needed a few minutes to get there, but so long as he was content and had gotten enough sleep, he was fine once he'd moved around some. He took a few steps across the kitchen to where Yumi was staring around the room, looking lost.
Sliding his arms around Yumi's waist, he laid his head on the elder man's shoulder. "Good morning," He greeted quietly, and pressed a chaste kiss to his jaw, holding the embrace for a brief moment before pulling away. "Did you want any help with breakfast?"
Yumi wasn't exactly notorious for it, but Izuru knew well that he wasn't a morning person. Was it worth chancing his lover in the kitchen while he was still... not quite able to focus on a task, as it seemed by his half-glazed, heavy-lidded eyes.
The skin-on-skin contact felt good. Better than good, even. It felt great. Yumi leaned forward, his body seeking out the warmth of the other man’s. However, just as he was about to close his eyes in contentment, Izuru moved and he found himself pressing up against thin air.
“Mm,” he murmured, reaching for the blond’s arm. “Might be best.”
He gave Izuru’s wrist a gentle tug and pulled him closer. “I might make a mess, otherwise.”
Yumichika's tug at his wrist took him by surprise. He'd pulled away to focus on breakfast, and to let him have his space in the case he preferred that. But... that didn't seem to be the case, so Izuru stepped back toward the warmth of Yumi's skin, wrapped his arms around him as he moved to stand behind him, and laid his cheek on his shoulder. Threading his fingers together at his abdomen, he closed his eyes and savored the feeling.
"We'll have to start that, then," He told him quietly, but didn't move, except to circle the pads of his thumbs over the bare skin of Yumichika's stomach. "Sometime."
For some reason, Yumichika never seemed to get much of anything accomplished around Izuru. Even the most well thought out plans would crumble as soon as the blond came near. Now, with his half-formed idea of breakfast quickly fizzling into a memory, he was beginning to wonder why food had sounded so appealing in the first place.
“Right...” he whispered, letting his head rest against Izuru’s. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and focused on the feel of fingertips tracing across his skin. “Yes.... probably...”
Leaving a soft trail of kisses across Yumi's jaw and up his cheek, Izuru pulled his fingers apart and brushed them over the smooth expanse of the brunet's abdomen, and up to his chest. "Come on, Yumi." He murmured to his ear, using the nickname he reserved only for quiet, intimate moments. This seemed to count.
Gently steering him toward the stove, Izuru slipped away from him for a moment--just long enough to collect pans and a few things from the cabinets and refrigerator. Sliding the pan onto the stove, he stood behind Yumi and moved mechanically to start with breakfast, arms back around him while he worked.
In the interim, when he had a moment he could turn his attention away from the stove, Izuru brushed fingers over Yumi's arms, hands, chest. When he couldn't spare his hands, he continued the trail of kisses over his neck, down to his shoulders and across his back.
This... this was... this could work. It wasn’t the most conventional way to make breakfast, but it was certainly better than other, more traditional methods. Yumi watched his lover’s hands move in front of him with sleepy fascination, too content to do much of anything else. Eventually, after he began to feel like he was in the way, he moved to stand behind Izuru.
“I could’ve done that,” he said, resting his chin on the blond’s shoulder. Wrapping his arms around Izuru’s waist, he gave him a slight squeeze and smiled into the crook of his neck. “But this is nice.”
Finally, after hesitating for a few minutes longer, he slowly moved away from Izuru’s warmth and began getting out plates, cups, and silverware.
It was nice with his arms around Yumi, but... it was also just as nice to stand in the man's arm, going through the motions of making breakfast. Leaning his head against Yumi's he exhaled slowly. "I know you could have. You just looked a little tired."
Enjoying the moment for as long as it lasted, Izuru watched Yumi collect things for breakfast and turned his attention to finishing it. After a moment, he pulled the pan from the burner, set it to the side, and started collecting other things from around the kitchen. Starting toast, and collecting juice, he assembled them on the counter and waited for Yumi to finish.
“Mm... head’s a little groggy,” Yumi replied, setting two napkins on the table. His gaze flicked back and forth between what he was doing and Izuru’s half-naked frame. If it hadn’t been for the way his stomach was starting to wake up at the smell of food, he might have considered skipping breakfast all together.
Walking back across the room, he grabbed the juice and brought it over to the table-but not before stopping to brush his lips against Izuru’s shoulder. He was beginning to regret his decision to get up so early, and he wondered if there was any chance of dragging the blond back to bed once they'd eaten.
Sighing at the brush of lips, he returned the touch with the tips of his fingers over Yumi's back and tried to return his attention to the task at hand. Breakfast. That was what they were trying to do. Once everything was finished, Izuru set it on the table, looking at Yumi with a faint smile. When he realized that he was staring, and his thoughts were drifting toward other things, he ducked his head and felt his face heat.
"That... should be everything." He told him, leaning over to brush a piece of hair out of Yumi's face and press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I think." He added quietly.
Had he been more awake, Yumichika might have found how... domestic they were being rather amusing. However, since his tired mind seemed determined to remain fuzzy, he neither noticed nor cared. All he knew was that the food smelled good... and that Izuru was there... and that he felt amazingly serene. Everything else seemed far away and unimportant.
“Looks good,” he said, letting his hand graze Izuru’s as he reached for a piece of toast. It’d been a while since he’d actually enjoyed breakfast sitting down, and he almost didn’t know how to start. He really needed to cook for himself more often. Or just spend more nights with Izuru.
Settling in after that was simple. Or... at least, the action itself was. Izuru couldn't remember the last time he'd sat at this table... at least since he had been in school. Breakfast was something he didn't eat very often, unless there was a reason for it, such as this was. What was simple was that he was now relaxing again in Yumichika's presence.
"Thanks," He murmured, taking a sip of juice and peering over the rim of the glass at Yumi. Moments like this weren't... really common. Nor were they exactly orthodox (though, he reminded himself, nothing about what they did was orthodox, per se) sitting at the kitchen table in their pants and eating breakfast, but it was... a nice, quiet change from the normal pace Izuru had set his life to.
It was a nice change. A welcomed one, even. Yumichika didn’t take enough time to enjoy the simpler things in life. He was so focused on getting what he wanted that he sometimes missed out on the things he needed. This quiet breakfast with Izuru was a perfect example of something he normally would have skipped.... and unknowingly missed out on.
“Why haven’t we done this before?” he asked, still too sleepy to realize that the answer to his question was obvious. The nature of his relationship with Izuru, as simple as it was complex, didn’t allow for many moments like this. Or perhaps it was his own fear and hesitation that held them back. Whatever it was, he never stopped to think about it, and he was currently too bleary to make sense of it now.
He fell silent and chewed his food slowly, listening to the scrape of their forks against their plates and the subtle noises that houses tend to make when everything else is quiet. After a few minutes, he sat back and reached for his napkin.
“Do you have work to do?” he asked, his eyes seeking out Izuru’s. “Or am I allowed to distract you for a bit?”
Pausing, Izuru set down his glass and stared down for a moment. Why didn't they do this? He knew, as Yumi did--or would, when he was more aware--that it was less to do with wanting to as much as it had everything to do the fact that there hadn't ever really been much room for this. Picking his fork up again, he hovered over his eggs for a moment before smiling a little and meeting Yumi's eyes. "We can try and do it again sometime, if you like." No pressure. Better to just suggest it and leave it to Yumichika's discretion.
The silence was comfortable, and Izuru looked up again at his lover's questions. Distractions usually meant that it would be enjoyable, and he was sure he didn't have anything too pressing waiting for him. After a short moment's thought, he nodded and felt the warmth in his face spread to a red glow. "I think I can take as much time off as you'd like to... ah... Distract me." He could really manage to take the entire day off, on second thought, but there was really no need to seem too eager. Or whatever it was that might be associated with it.
Yumichika began to wake up as soon as he heard Izuru’s answer... and registered the implication behind it. He couldn’t help but grin as he returned his attention to his food, and he found himself eating with a new objective-to finish, rather than enjoy. The blond might have been prepared to give him as much time as he wanted, but that didn’t curb his growing enthusiasm. He wanted to be in bed... with Izuru... and he was finding it rather difficult to think about much else. It was a good breakfast, and they had shared a lovely moment together, but his mood was changing from drowsy to... something else.
He brought their empty plates to the sink before taking the younger man’s hand in his own and heading toward the stairs.
“Dishes can wait,” he murmured-just in case Izuru was thinking otherwise. Stopping just outside the kitchen door, he smiled warmly and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lover’s mouth.
Without hesitation, Izuru relaxed his hand in Yumichika's grip and allowed him to lead him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. It didn't matter much where they were going--though he had a suspicion he knew precisely where they were going to end up--he was willing to follow Yumi wherever he led him. It hadn't failed him to present, and that was alright with him. Nodding at his words about the dishes--he had already put them firmly out of his mind--Izuru paused with him outside the kitchen and felt something warm and pleasant growing in his chest at the smile and the kiss.
This was what they were. There wasn't room for anything more. At least, not for the present, and not for as long as Yumichika needed his time and his space. Izuru was happily willing to oblige him what he needed, glad to take what time he could have with him and appreciate it. Lifting his hand, he brushed Yumi's hair aside, laid his fingers on his neck, and kissed him--chaste at first, and then daring to deepen the kiss with lips, tongue and a quick flash of teeth.
They were going upstairs. That's where they were supposed to be going. Where they would end up in time, but Izuru focused on the now. It was better that way. It was better this way, without thinking of what would come next when this was already such a tentative thing. Dusting feather-light touches across Yumi's neck, then down his chest, Izuru pulled himself away and recognized the persistent warmth in his chest as something he couldn't share in its present form. There were other ways to show it, though.
Starting with actually getting up the stairs.
Characters: Izuru (soleil_de_lune), Yumi (day_eight)
Timeline: January 22, 1950
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Izuru and Yumichika share a brief moment of normalcy.
Yumichika was a light sleeper. Perhaps it was because he’d spent so many nights sleeping with one eye open while he lived at the orphanage. Or maybe he feared missing something important. Regardless of the why, he would often find himself startled out of a deep sleep for no apparent reason. He’d grown accustomed to it long ago, and had since learned how to fall back to sleep in little to no time.
That, however, only worked when he was at home. It took him significantly longer to drift off when he was somewhere else. So long, in fact, that sleeping away from home almost seemed like a chore. But, since the obvious pros of spending the night in someone else’s bed greatly outweighed the cons, he wasn’t going to complain.
And so, after the first rays of morning light gently roused him, Yumi knew that he'd be awake for the rest of the day. He stayed still for a while longer, watching the room grow steadily brighter as he listened to the faint sound of Izuru’s breathing. Once the clock on the nightstand said eight o’clock, he carefully slid out of bed and into his jeans.
Wandering down into the kitchen, the still-sleepy brunet retrieved a glass from one of the cupboards and filled it with water from the tap. A giant yawn threatened to crack his jaw as he leaned back against the counter, glass of water in hand, and began contemplating whether or not to start breakfast.
It wasn't that Izuru was a heavy sleeper--he wasn't--as much as when he was relaxed, he was... relaxed. He'd noticed that Yumi had trouble falling asleep when he was over, so he tried not to ask him to do it very often... but it inevitably happened anyway, so he tried not to think about it too often. In this case, he woke up slowly with the faint notion that there was something not quite... right. When he realized what it was--that Yumichika was no longer in the bed--he blinked sleepily, trying to think if he was just muddled in thinking that Yumi had been there the night before.
But, no, there was his shirt. So where was the man?
Contemplating the wisdom of getting out of bed--it was warm--he finally sighed and peeled back the covers after a few moments. It was possible that Yumi had just stepped out, but it had been long enough that that didn't seem entirely likely. It wouldn't have woken him up if Yumi had just slipped out for a moment, and he wasn't going to fall back asleep now. Instead, he pushed his hair out of his face, fumbled for his pants--neatly laid across the back of a chair--and pulled them on.
The house wasn't enormous, but it was big enough that Izuru thought for a moment about where Yumi might have gone before slipping out of the bedroom and starting down the stairs. Morning. Right.
The kitchen it was.
Trying not to make any noise automatically ensures that noise will be made. Yumi was doing his best to be quiet, but every pot and pan seemed determined to thwart him. One particularly unruly spatula managed to wriggle its way out of his grip and onto the tiled floor. The clang made him jump (things always sound much louder when one is half asleep), and he took a moment to put a hand on his hip and scowl at the thing before picking it up and tossing it towards the sink.
In his frustration, he completely forgot that tossing a metal spatula into a ceramic sink isn’t the greatest thing to do when you’re trying to be silent.
Izuru had almost reached the kitchen when a scuffling clatter, followed by a loud metallic banging echoed through the kitchen and out into the hall. Well, seeing as Mrs. Hollings was taking the weekend off as she always did, that would mean it was... Yumichika. Pushing the door open, he paused in the doorway and watched Yumi with a faint, but growing smile. It probably wasn't supposed to be something he found amusing... Or perhaps the giddy, elated feeling was from seeing Yumi, and that was all.
Stepping into the room anyway, he let the door swing shut behind him slowly. "I suppose the sink deserves having something thrown at it. It's been giving me trouble all week, too."
Yumi quit glaring at the spatula long enough to give Izuru a sheepish smile. He wasn’t exactly a morning person, and it showed. The fog in his head was so thick that the phrase he mumbled next barely resembled the ‘good morning’ it was supposed to be.
After giving the sink-and the spatula in it-one last scowl, he went back to his previous task.
Only... he couldn’t really remember what he’d be doing. He looked around blankly, eyelids still heavy with the remnants of sleep.
“Breakfast... I think.”
Izuru had the fortune of being someone who, once awake, was awake. Maybe he needed a few minutes to get there, but so long as he was content and had gotten enough sleep, he was fine once he'd moved around some. He took a few steps across the kitchen to where Yumi was staring around the room, looking lost.
Sliding his arms around Yumi's waist, he laid his head on the elder man's shoulder. "Good morning," He greeted quietly, and pressed a chaste kiss to his jaw, holding the embrace for a brief moment before pulling away. "Did you want any help with breakfast?"
Yumi wasn't exactly notorious for it, but Izuru knew well that he wasn't a morning person. Was it worth chancing his lover in the kitchen while he was still... not quite able to focus on a task, as it seemed by his half-glazed, heavy-lidded eyes.
The skin-on-skin contact felt good. Better than good, even. It felt great. Yumi leaned forward, his body seeking out the warmth of the other man’s. However, just as he was about to close his eyes in contentment, Izuru moved and he found himself pressing up against thin air.
“Mm,” he murmured, reaching for the blond’s arm. “Might be best.”
He gave Izuru’s wrist a gentle tug and pulled him closer. “I might make a mess, otherwise.”
Yumichika's tug at his wrist took him by surprise. He'd pulled away to focus on breakfast, and to let him have his space in the case he preferred that. But... that didn't seem to be the case, so Izuru stepped back toward the warmth of Yumi's skin, wrapped his arms around him as he moved to stand behind him, and laid his cheek on his shoulder. Threading his fingers together at his abdomen, he closed his eyes and savored the feeling.
"We'll have to start that, then," He told him quietly, but didn't move, except to circle the pads of his thumbs over the bare skin of Yumichika's stomach. "Sometime."
For some reason, Yumichika never seemed to get much of anything accomplished around Izuru. Even the most well thought out plans would crumble as soon as the blond came near. Now, with his half-formed idea of breakfast quickly fizzling into a memory, he was beginning to wonder why food had sounded so appealing in the first place.
“Right...” he whispered, letting his head rest against Izuru’s. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes and focused on the feel of fingertips tracing across his skin. “Yes.... probably...”
Leaving a soft trail of kisses across Yumi's jaw and up his cheek, Izuru pulled his fingers apart and brushed them over the smooth expanse of the brunet's abdomen, and up to his chest. "Come on, Yumi." He murmured to his ear, using the nickname he reserved only for quiet, intimate moments. This seemed to count.
Gently steering him toward the stove, Izuru slipped away from him for a moment--just long enough to collect pans and a few things from the cabinets and refrigerator. Sliding the pan onto the stove, he stood behind Yumi and moved mechanically to start with breakfast, arms back around him while he worked.
In the interim, when he had a moment he could turn his attention away from the stove, Izuru brushed fingers over Yumi's arms, hands, chest. When he couldn't spare his hands, he continued the trail of kisses over his neck, down to his shoulders and across his back.
This... this was... this could work. It wasn’t the most conventional way to make breakfast, but it was certainly better than other, more traditional methods. Yumi watched his lover’s hands move in front of him with sleepy fascination, too content to do much of anything else. Eventually, after he began to feel like he was in the way, he moved to stand behind Izuru.
“I could’ve done that,” he said, resting his chin on the blond’s shoulder. Wrapping his arms around Izuru’s waist, he gave him a slight squeeze and smiled into the crook of his neck. “But this is nice.”
Finally, after hesitating for a few minutes longer, he slowly moved away from Izuru’s warmth and began getting out plates, cups, and silverware.
It was nice with his arms around Yumi, but... it was also just as nice to stand in the man's arm, going through the motions of making breakfast. Leaning his head against Yumi's he exhaled slowly. "I know you could have. You just looked a little tired."
Enjoying the moment for as long as it lasted, Izuru watched Yumi collect things for breakfast and turned his attention to finishing it. After a moment, he pulled the pan from the burner, set it to the side, and started collecting other things from around the kitchen. Starting toast, and collecting juice, he assembled them on the counter and waited for Yumi to finish.
“Mm... head’s a little groggy,” Yumi replied, setting two napkins on the table. His gaze flicked back and forth between what he was doing and Izuru’s half-naked frame. If it hadn’t been for the way his stomach was starting to wake up at the smell of food, he might have considered skipping breakfast all together.
Walking back across the room, he grabbed the juice and brought it over to the table-but not before stopping to brush his lips against Izuru’s shoulder. He was beginning to regret his decision to get up so early, and he wondered if there was any chance of dragging the blond back to bed once they'd eaten.
Sighing at the brush of lips, he returned the touch with the tips of his fingers over Yumi's back and tried to return his attention to the task at hand. Breakfast. That was what they were trying to do. Once everything was finished, Izuru set it on the table, looking at Yumi with a faint smile. When he realized that he was staring, and his thoughts were drifting toward other things, he ducked his head and felt his face heat.
"That... should be everything." He told him, leaning over to brush a piece of hair out of Yumi's face and press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I think." He added quietly.
Had he been more awake, Yumichika might have found how... domestic they were being rather amusing. However, since his tired mind seemed determined to remain fuzzy, he neither noticed nor cared. All he knew was that the food smelled good... and that Izuru was there... and that he felt amazingly serene. Everything else seemed far away and unimportant.
“Looks good,” he said, letting his hand graze Izuru’s as he reached for a piece of toast. It’d been a while since he’d actually enjoyed breakfast sitting down, and he almost didn’t know how to start. He really needed to cook for himself more often. Or just spend more nights with Izuru.
Settling in after that was simple. Or... at least, the action itself was. Izuru couldn't remember the last time he'd sat at this table... at least since he had been in school. Breakfast was something he didn't eat very often, unless there was a reason for it, such as this was. What was simple was that he was now relaxing again in Yumichika's presence.
"Thanks," He murmured, taking a sip of juice and peering over the rim of the glass at Yumi. Moments like this weren't... really common. Nor were they exactly orthodox (though, he reminded himself, nothing about what they did was orthodox, per se) sitting at the kitchen table in their pants and eating breakfast, but it was... a nice, quiet change from the normal pace Izuru had set his life to.
It was a nice change. A welcomed one, even. Yumichika didn’t take enough time to enjoy the simpler things in life. He was so focused on getting what he wanted that he sometimes missed out on the things he needed. This quiet breakfast with Izuru was a perfect example of something he normally would have skipped.... and unknowingly missed out on.
“Why haven’t we done this before?” he asked, still too sleepy to realize that the answer to his question was obvious. The nature of his relationship with Izuru, as simple as it was complex, didn’t allow for many moments like this. Or perhaps it was his own fear and hesitation that held them back. Whatever it was, he never stopped to think about it, and he was currently too bleary to make sense of it now.
He fell silent and chewed his food slowly, listening to the scrape of their forks against their plates and the subtle noises that houses tend to make when everything else is quiet. After a few minutes, he sat back and reached for his napkin.
“Do you have work to do?” he asked, his eyes seeking out Izuru’s. “Or am I allowed to distract you for a bit?”
Pausing, Izuru set down his glass and stared down for a moment. Why didn't they do this? He knew, as Yumi did--or would, when he was more aware--that it was less to do with wanting to as much as it had everything to do the fact that there hadn't ever really been much room for this. Picking his fork up again, he hovered over his eggs for a moment before smiling a little and meeting Yumi's eyes. "We can try and do it again sometime, if you like." No pressure. Better to just suggest it and leave it to Yumichika's discretion.
The silence was comfortable, and Izuru looked up again at his lover's questions. Distractions usually meant that it would be enjoyable, and he was sure he didn't have anything too pressing waiting for him. After a short moment's thought, he nodded and felt the warmth in his face spread to a red glow. "I think I can take as much time off as you'd like to... ah... Distract me." He could really manage to take the entire day off, on second thought, but there was really no need to seem too eager. Or whatever it was that might be associated with it.
Yumichika began to wake up as soon as he heard Izuru’s answer... and registered the implication behind it. He couldn’t help but grin as he returned his attention to his food, and he found himself eating with a new objective-to finish, rather than enjoy. The blond might have been prepared to give him as much time as he wanted, but that didn’t curb his growing enthusiasm. He wanted to be in bed... with Izuru... and he was finding it rather difficult to think about much else. It was a good breakfast, and they had shared a lovely moment together, but his mood was changing from drowsy to... something else.
He brought their empty plates to the sink before taking the younger man’s hand in his own and heading toward the stairs.
“Dishes can wait,” he murmured-just in case Izuru was thinking otherwise. Stopping just outside the kitchen door, he smiled warmly and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lover’s mouth.
Without hesitation, Izuru relaxed his hand in Yumichika's grip and allowed him to lead him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. It didn't matter much where they were going--though he had a suspicion he knew precisely where they were going to end up--he was willing to follow Yumi wherever he led him. It hadn't failed him to present, and that was alright with him. Nodding at his words about the dishes--he had already put them firmly out of his mind--Izuru paused with him outside the kitchen and felt something warm and pleasant growing in his chest at the smile and the kiss.
This was what they were. There wasn't room for anything more. At least, not for the present, and not for as long as Yumichika needed his time and his space. Izuru was happily willing to oblige him what he needed, glad to take what time he could have with him and appreciate it. Lifting his hand, he brushed Yumi's hair aside, laid his fingers on his neck, and kissed him--chaste at first, and then daring to deepen the kiss with lips, tongue and a quick flash of teeth.
They were going upstairs. That's where they were supposed to be going. Where they would end up in time, but Izuru focused on the now. It was better that way. It was better this way, without thinking of what would come next when this was already such a tentative thing. Dusting feather-light touches across Yumi's neck, then down his chest, Izuru pulled himself away and recognized the persistent warmth in his chest as something he couldn't share in its present form. There were other ways to show it, though.
Starting with actually getting up the stairs.