Work Text:
Hira opened his eyes slowly. The morning light crept in through the gaps in the curtains, washing the wooden floor with a golden hue. He blinked a few times before finally sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his body that felt a bit stiff after yesterday's long day of work. As usual, the first thing that came to his head was—
Kiyoi.
Hira turned his head to the side. Kiyoi was still asleep, his face half covered by the blanket. His breathing was regular, occasionally his lips pursed slightly, as if he was dreaming. Hira stared at him silently, feeling his chest warm just from seeing that face. Without thinking, Hira got up carefully, making sure there was no movement that could wake Kiyoi.
He walked out of the room to the kitchen and started preparing coffee. This had become his habit—making sure Kiyoi had his morning black coffee before going to filming. As the aroma of coffee filled the air, the sound of lazy footsteps was heard from the direction of the room. Hira turned his head and saw Kiyoi walking with messy hair, his face slightly annoyed because he was forced to wake up. "Coffee," he murmured, leaning in with half-closed eyes. Hira smiled slightly and handed over the cup. Kiyoi accepted it without saying much, taking a slow sip before finally letting out a sigh of contentment.
"Don't forget to eat before filming," Hira said, making sure toast and eggs were on the table. Kiyoi stared at him for a long time, as if he wanted to say something. But then he just sighed softly and looked away.
"Yeah, yeah. I know," he mumbled, then continued with his breakfast. Hira, of course, had no idea that today was his own birthday. To him, it was just another day—a day where he made sure Kiyoi had everything he needed.
Meanwhile, Kiyoi who was sitting at the dining table glanced at him, then grinned a little. "What an idiot," he thought to himself. Because even though Hira never bothered to remember his own birthday, Kiyoi would never forget it. And he had something prepared. Once Hira left for work, their apartment fell silent. Kiyoi leaned back in his chair, staring at his empty coffee cup. He sighed. "Alright," he muttered. "Let's get started on the surprise birthday operation for that idiot." Kiyoi's plan was simple: a romantic dinner at home, a small gift, and maybe—just maybe—a more intimate evening with Hira.
No big party, no extravaganza. Hira wasn't the type to go for that kind of thing, and Kiyoi... well, he didn't want to share Hira with anyone else today, either. But the problem was... Kiyoi was completely new to dealing with these kinds of things. He tried cooking first. Something simple—maybe pasta? But after looking at the recipe on his phone and realizing he didn't know the difference between "frying" and "sautéing," Kiyoi started to panic. He pulled all the ingredients out of the fridge, but ended up just staring at them in confusion.
｡₊‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐 -📱 ‧₊˚ ⋅‧₊
After 30 minutes had passed and the kitchen was starting to look like a mini war zone, Kiyoi finally gave up and called their regular restaurant."I need a special order for tonight," he said quickly. "Make it look like it's homemade."
"What?" the voice on the other end of the phone sounded confused.
"Just send it, I'll pay whatever it takes," Kiyoi interrupted before hanging up.
Okay, food is done. Now... decorations. Kiyoi wasn't a romantic person. He didn't even know how to hang small lights without making it look messy. After struggling with a few candles and finally just putting small lights on the dining table, he decided that was enough. Lastly, the prize. In the cupboard, Kiyoi had kept something he had bought long ago: a Polaroid camera. He knew Hira liked taking photos, especially photos of him secretly. Kiyoi often pretended not to know, but he was always aware when Hira took pictures of him when he was reading a script or just sitting on the sofa. Sometimes he purposely lets it go. With this Polaroid camera, at least Hira can save photos of the two of them, without having to hide them like a thief.
Kiyoi looked at the clock. There were still a few hours before Hira would be home. He lay down on the couch, feeling quite satisfied with his preparations. "This should be good enough, right?" he mumbled before unknowingly falling asleep.
•*¨*•.¸¸☆*☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
When Hira finally got home, he opened the apartment door with her mind full of work. He took off his shoes lazily, then walked inside— And immediately fell silent. The room felt different. The lights were dimmer, small candles were burning on the dining table, and there was a delicious aroma of food in the air. Kiyoi sat on the sofa with his hair a little messy, having just woken up. Hira frowned. "Kiyoi... Are you okay?"
Kiyoi glanced at Hira with his typical flat expression. "What do you mean?"
"Um, this is..." Hira glanced around. "Did something happen?"
Kiyoi stared at him for a long moment, before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. "Gosh, you really are an idiot." Hira was still confused until Kiyoi finally stood up, walked over to him, and in a softer voice than usual, he said: "Today is your birthday."
Hira blinked."...Huh?"
Kiyoi rolled his eyes. "Seriously? You really forgot?" Hira blinked a few times, trying to remember. Oh. That's right. Today was his birthday. But he hadn't thought about it at all because, well... his head was full of Kiyoi.
"Uh, I..." Hira scratched his head, feeling a little embarrassed.
Kiyoi sighed, then pulled Hira's hand to sit on the chair. "Look, I'm not good at this kind of thing," he said quickly. "But... since you're an idiot and don't remember your own birthday, I'll have to remember it for you."
Hira looked at the table. There were two plates of food that looked very delicious—although he doubted that Kiyoi had actually cooked it himself. "You cooked?" Hira asked, smiling slightly.
Kiyoi immediately looked away. "Mmph... It's not important. Just eat."
Hira laughed softly. "Thank you, Kiyoi."
After eating, Kiyoi finally took out his polaroid camera gift. Hira received the box carefully, opening the wrapping paper hesitantly. When he saw the camera, his eyes widened. "Kiyoi..."
"Do you like it or not?" Kiyoi interrupted hastily, hiding his nervousness.
Hira smiled. "I like it. I really like it." Kiyoi cleared his throat slightly, trying to look indifferent, but his ears were slightly red. "But, I want to use it now," Hira said suddenly.
Kiyoi raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
Hira took the camera, pointed the lens at Kiyoi, then quickly pressed the button.
-Click!-
The photo paper came out of the camera, slowly revealing Kiyoi's face still in a shocked expression. "You—!" Kiyoi was about to protest, but Hira just smiled in satisfaction, looking at the photo with affection.
"Now I can keep your photos," he said in a teasing tone. Kiyoi rolled his eyes, but his lips curved into a small smile. As the night wore on, the two of them sat on the couch, making small talk, enjoying each other's company. Without the need for big words or exaggerated gestures, Kiyoi showed in his own way that he cared for Hira. And for Hira, that was more than enough. It was getting late, but the apartment felt warmer than usual. Hira and Kiyoi were still sitting on the couch, the lights in the room dim, only the candlelight left from their dinner. Hira was still holding the polaroid photo of Kiyoi that he had taken earlier. It was rare for him to capture Kiyoi openly like this, without having to hide or steal opportunities.
He stared at it for a long time, his fingers gently stroking the edges of the photo. Kiyoi, who was sitting next to him, glanced at him briefly before sighing softly. "Don't look at it like that."
Hira smiled slightly, then lifted his head. "Why? I just like looking at you." Kiyoi turned his head with an unreadable expression, then without saying much, he took the photo from Hira's hand and placed it on the table. Hira blinked, a little confused, but before he could ask, Kiyoi had moved closer, cupping his face with both hands. Hira's heart beat faster.
"If you like looking at me," Kiyoi murmured, his voice lower than usual, "you might as well look at me in person." Hira had not had time to respond when Kiyoi's lips pressed against his. The kiss wasn't rushed, not rough like Kiyoi sometimes did when he was upset or embarrassed. This time, there was something deeper—softer, but still demanding. Hira was silent for a moment before finally responding, his hand moving slowly to the back of Kiyoi's neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, grew warmer, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. When Kiyoi finally pulled away, his eyes were fixed on Hira's with intensity. "I want this night to be just ours," he whispered, almost like a plea. Hira swallowed, feeling his body heat up.
He nodded slowly, and that was the only answer Kiyoi needed. With a gentle movement, Kiyoi pulled Hira's hand, guiding him to stand. They walked towards the room with slow steps, as if not wanting to rush, as if wanting to enjoy every second. As soon as the bedroom door closed, the world felt smaller, just the two of them. No work, no filming, no outside world. Only Hira and Kiyoi. Only them. The bedroom door was closed, blocking out the outside world. There was only the sound of their breathing slowly adjusting to the rhythm, their hearts beating faster, and their gazes not shifting from each other. Hira swallowed, feeling how Kiyoi's hand was still holding his wrist—warm, a little tighter than usual, but not forced. Just a grip that said, I'm here with you.
Kiyoi pulled him closer, then without many words, he traced the lines of Hira's face with his fingers, as if memorizing every curve, every detail that he had previously only glimpsed in silence.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hira muttered, his voice shaking slightly. Kiyoi didn't answer right away.
He just took a deep breath, then in a voice that was almost a whisper, he said, "Because I want to remember you like this."
Hira couldn't hold back his shy smile. "I'm not going anywhere." Kiyoi didn't reply, just pulled him closer, until Hira could feel the warmth of his body. Their lips met again, but this time slower, more passionate.
There was no rush, no hurry. Hira's hand moved to the back of Kiyoi's neck, his fingers threading through the strands of his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Kiyoi responded with a small moan, something that was rare to hear from him, but Hira took it in like a precious gift. Under the dim light, they touched each other carefully, as if they didn't want to miss a single moment. Kiyoi, who was usually so arrogant and distant, was more open, more honest tonight. And Hira, who had always felt like a shadow following Kiyoi, felt on equal footing tonight—because Kiyoi looked at him the same way..
They lay on the bed, facing each other, staring at each other in comfortable silence. Kiyoi ran his fingers along Hira's arm, a small touch that felt more meaningful than a thousand words. "I don't know what gift to give," Kiyoi finally muttered.
Hira frowned. "You have done a lot for me today."
"But..." Kiyoi hesitated for a moment, before finally approaching and resting his forehead on Hira's shoulder. "I want to do more. For you."
Hira was silent, his heart felt full. He let his fingers thread through Kiyoi's hair, stroking it slowly. "Then stay here," Hira whispered. "Stay like this with me." Kiyoi didn't answer with words, but his grip on Hira's waist tightened slightly, as if to give a deeper answer than just a yes. That night, they were in no rush. There was no feeling of having to possess or control. There were only them, in meaningful silence.
💭.｡:･*ﾟ💫ﾟ*･.｡•*¨*•.¸¸☆*☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
hehe i love kiyoira so much ⸜( •⌄• )⸝
my babygirls(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
(made up that ship name just now ƪ(‾ε‾")ʃ )