Love-tune, Sunbeam

Title: Sunbeam [Yasui/Hagiya]
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Hagiya must have had a rough night but unfortunately can’t remember much of it.
AN: Flustered, drunk Hagiya confessing his feelings has to be the cutest thing ever, right?


The last thing he remembers before he passes out is Yasui warm against him, Yasui’s arms around his neck and the way he’d whispered in Hagiya’s ear that he was so cute, he really shouldn’t have waited so long to confess properly. The first thing he sees when he wakes up is the wall of his bedroom, and Hagiya gives a quiet groan.

He’s so sick of having that dream, so fucking sick of it, how real it seems and how relieved he is when he finally tells Yasui his feelings, and then he wakes up and everything is the same as it always is. It’s like a torture his brain torments him with at least once a week, mocking him and his inability to just man up and tell Yasui in real life already. On top of everything, Hagiya has a pounding headache that is definitely Morohoshi’s fault because that asshole always lies and says there isn’t any vodka in the drink, and there always is. Growling, Hagiya clutches the blankets tighter around himself to ignore both his clock and the sunlight coming in the window, and rolls over.

He freezes when he comes nose-to-nose with Yasui sleeping beside him.

Yasui’s shoulder is bare, and Hagiya’s pretty sure the rest of him is too. Hagiya realizes, with the slowness that comes with the hangover, that he is also naked, is a little sore all over, and could definitely use a shower.

“Shit,” he whispers because this might actually be happening. He might have actually drunk confessed to Yasui, taken him home, and let Yasui do a bunch of things to him that his dream recollection of is very fuzzy. Any minute Yasui is going to wake up and have a good laugh at stupid Hagiya, the drunk kiss monster. Sex monster. Seriously, why do his abs hurt like that? “SHIT.”

“Mmm?” Yasui asks, blinking eyes half open. They’re warm and brown and Hagiya wants to drown himself in them, especially when Yasui notices Hagiya looking and smiles. “Hey there.”

“What did I do?” Hagiya asks, panic rising in his chest when Yasui only smiles wider, lazier. He’s so dumb and Yasui’s going to laugh and laugh about it with the others at work later. Hagiya pulls the blankets over his head. “Never mind. Let’s forget about it.”

Yasui tugs the blankets back down, gently but firmly when Hagiya tries to tighten his grip. He’s still smiling, but it’s affectionate instead of teasing. Hope flickers in Hagiya’s chest, but he tries to ignore it. It’s just nausea he tells himself.

“I can if that’s what you want,” Yasui says. “But it isn’t right? Haven’t you been trying to tell me your feelings all that time? That’s what you said last night.”

“Yes,” Hagiya admits, barely audible. He stays still when Yasui cuddles closer, tugging Hagiya’s arm across his waist himself when Hagiya doesn’t move to do it.

“Seems kind of silly to take back your confession when I said yes,” Yasui murmurs. Hagiya’s skin flashes cold then warm, and then he’s hugging Yasui tight enough for Yasui to hum with approval. He tries to remember Yasui answering him, but it’s all a blur of kissing and hands and warmth.

“I don’t remember,” Hagiya says sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m the worst.”

“You’re adorable,” Yasui assures him. He’s already gone limp against Hagiya, like a cat determined to nap in a sunbeam. “Especially when you’re drunk.”

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