“Do you like these poems?” Sensei asks.
“I do.” Mutsuki smiles. “We should have a poetry writing session. All of us.”
Sasaki laughs. “I bet Urie’s haiku would be something like ‘word word word word word/word word word word word word word/ word word word word word.’”
Mutsuki chokes back his laughter. He leans his head on Sasaki’s shoulder. “That would be lovely.”
“I agree.” Sasaki smiles and turns the page.
Instead of looking at the poems, however, Mutsuki watches Sensei. His eyes droop, and he looks ready to nod off. But he also looks peaceful.
Mutsuki craves that peace. Mutsuki needs to feel safe. Safe, like he feels with Sasaki.
Sasaki doesn’t turn another page. His eyes close, and his breathing deepens.
Mutsuki likes the sound.
But he also knows if he just sits here watching Sensei til morning – because he could, happily – Sensei will wake up cold, with sore muscles.
So Mutsuki gentle lifts Sasaki and drops him on his bed. To his amusement, his Sensei doesn’t even awaken.
Mutsuki covers him with a blanket and props a pillow under his head.
“Hey Sensei. You might not know this,” Mutsuki says quietly, “But I really love you.”
He leaves a kiss on Saaski’s forehead before quietly closing the door behind him.