Tag: daichi

When the shirt slides off Suga’s pale shoulder and he throws his head back, grinning with a darkness in his eyes that has Daichi swallow hard, the button of his pants wrestled open by long fingers, hips swaying in a way that’s hell and heaven and goddamn bliss, that is when Sugawara attributes a completely new interpretation to the song pour some sugar on me for his boyfriend. 

Suga’s smile around the words “pour some sugar on me, ooh, in the name of love, pour some sugar on me, c’mon, fire me up” is cherry-red, his tongue a lick of flames. The music is loud, his striptease practiced – perfect. And it’s Daichi’s.

And Daichi swallows when that devilish little mouth nips at his ear, bites down on the skin of his neck, a low whimper stuck in his throat. He is indeed a goddamn lucky bastard, and Suga makes sure that he’ll always remember that.

Koushi thinks that calling Daichi his ‘lover’ is wrong. Neither ‘friend’ nor ‘boyfriend’ fits the connection that runs between them. 

No. Daichi is the scent of his mother’s hot milk with honey. He is the smell of hay and wild summer nights and kisses under an eclipse of rain that ran down Koushi’s skin and wiped away his silver, lonely tears with the shimmering kindness of Daichi’s warm hands. 

Daichi is not a lover. Because if this man would take his hand and tell him ‘trust me’, Koushi’s lips and eyes spell yes in a language that is older than love itself.

Daichi is not a lover. He is and will forever be, the colour of gold in Koushi’s soul.

“I think they’re cute,” Daichi says when he’s first kissing Suga’s naked stomach under soft moonlight, tracing the black moles on his skin one by one. “They belong to you,” he says when Suga lies in his arms, lips warm like fire and home on his throat. Daichi spends months kissing them, a year, two years. 

“Please, please stay with me,” Daichi says when Suga returns from a check-up with the word malignant echoing in his tears. 

“I’ll try.” And God, does Suga try. Daichi doesn’t allow himself to cry when the starlight of Suga’s eyes melts back into the night sky of the universe. He only cries when Suga’s last warm touch against his cheek goes cold, and fades out.

Rosé. || daisuga

“Suga,” Daichi says. 

“Yes?”

“Your hair.” He swallows, tries to breathe around the thick lump inside his throat. Suga smiles at him, his best friend, his boyfriend, an angel who’s somehow made it into human form to make Daichi realizes just how goddamn gay he really is. If there’s something like Sugasexual – yup. That’s totally him. 

“It’s,” Daichi tries again. He reaches up to touch Suga’s hair, gently takes a strand between his fingers. “It’s pink.” 

“The colour’s called ‘rosé pastel’, actually.” 

“Oh.” And because Suga keeps smiling, tilts his head so adorably, Daichi can’t stop staring. “Daichi, are you going to let go of my hair, or – because we need to do the cleaning – “ 

“Uhm yeah, s-sure.” 

Daichi watches him leave, and the light of the afternoon sun floods through the windows of the gym, painting golden flecks onto the flower colour of Suga’s soft, angelic hair. 

Maybe he’s always loved him, Daichi thinks when he follows, throwing his arms around Suga’s waist after checking that they’re alone. Suga makes a tiny gasp and laughs, bell-like, crystal-clear, his head turning with a waft of pastel hair. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Daichi whispers into his ear, “and I – I adore you, do you know that.” Suga’s blushing cheeks are warm inside his hands, afterwards, when Suga whirls around to kiss him with an embarrassed mumble of “stop it already, that’s – mhm, Daichi.” 

The next day, Suga’s hair has purple tips and a turquoise streak from his pony to his ear. 

‘Pastel is an amazing colour scheme,’ Daichi thinks later when he kisses Suga against the lockers and steals his sweet, warm breath away. 

ask-irl-french-jean:

moami:

“Could you come over this afternoon? We need to talk.” 

And just like that, Daichi had turned Suga’s bright school morning into an anxious hell of ‘oh god he found out that I’ve loved him ever since he walked into my life like all I never knew I needed’. Suga spent the day by not eating anything, thinking about everything he’d said to Daichin within the last few weeks and playing so horribly in practice that coach Ukai put him on the bench. 

But there was no way around it, and so Suga went over to Daichi’s place right after school, his chest so tight and dark that it hurt deep into his heart. Daichi’s mother let him in with a soft smile that looked like she knew too much about something, and Suga hurried up the stairs, taking a last deep breath before opening the door. 

I’m hurting, baby, I’m broken down
I need your loving, loving, I need it now

Suga hadn’t know that Daichi could play guitar, and he had much less known about the fact that his crush had a rich, warm voice that sounded so goddamn perfect in English that Suga couldn’t do anything but lean back against the door -and stare. 

When I’m without you, I’m something weak
You got me begging, begging, I’m on my knees

He knew that song. Oh God, that was – Sugar. It was called Sugar, and his cheeks were heating up, bursting into fire, his knees giving in so he sunk down against the door. Suga swallowed and dropped his bag so he could bring both hands to cover his mouth, and then he stared some more at Daichi’s long fingers thrumming the guitar, his soft voice singing its way right into Suga’s heart, where the rest of his stupid everything already loved Daichi more than he could say. 

Your sugar
Yes, please
Won’t you come and put it down on me
I’m right here, ‘cause I need little love and little sympathy

When Daichi hummed the last note and looked up at Suga, the soft smile on his lips immediately faded. “Oh God, was I that bad? I’m – I’m sorry – “ 
“You are an idiot,” Suga said, grinning like an idiot, and didn’t bother to wipe the tears off his cheeks when he stumbled over to Daichi and caught his lips in a kiss. “You could’ve – could’ve said somethin’, God, I l-love you.” 

Daichi’s eyes glowed when he pulled Suga closer, and kissed him again. “I’m sorry, sugar. I guess I didn’t know how to tell you other than – well, this. And I love you, too.” 

The guitar made a sad, dissonant squeak when it was kicked off the bed, and Suga allowed Daichi to find out just how sweet his lips were, over and over again. 

image

This drabble is sooooo sweet !!!! >A<

(had to use a ref for Daichi’s pose with the guitar x_x)

bigger version HERE ^-^

OH MY GOD!! This is such beautiful art! Suga’s socks make me lose my mind, they’re so cute, and his tiny blush too, ahhh ❤ Thank you so, so much for this, it’s absolutely perfect. 

“Could you come over this afternoon? We need to talk.” 

And just like that, Daichi had turned Suga’s bright school morning into an anxious hell of ‘oh god he found out that I’ve loved him ever since he walked into my life like all I never knew I needed’. Suga spent the day by not eating anything, thinking about everything he’d said to Daichin within the last few weeks and playing so horribly in practice that coach Ukai put him on the bench. 

But there was no way around it, and so Suga went over to Daichi’s place right after school, his chest so tight and dark that it hurt deep into his heart. Daichi’s mother let him in with a soft smile that looked like she knew too much about something, and Suga hurried up the stairs, taking a last deep breath before opening the door. 

I’m hurting, baby, I’m broken down
I need your loving, loving, I need it now

Suga hadn’t know that Daichi could play guitar, and he had much less known about the fact that his crush had a rich, warm voice that sounded so goddamn perfect in English that Suga couldn’t do anything but lean back against the door -and stare. 

When I’m without you, I’m something weak
You got me begging, begging, I’m on my knees

He knew that song. Oh God, that was – Sugar. It was called Sugar, and his cheeks were heating up, bursting into fire, his knees giving in so he sunk down against the door. Suga swallowed and dropped his bag so he could bring both hands to cover his mouth, and then he stared some more at Daichi’s long fingers thrumming the guitar, his soft voice singing its way right into Suga’s heart, where the rest of his stupid everything already loved Daichi more than he could say. 

Your sugar
Yes, please
Won’t you come and put it down on me
I’m right here, ‘cause I need little love and little sympathy

When Daichi hummed the last note and looked up at Suga, the soft smile on his lips immediately faded. “Oh God, was I that bad? I’m – I’m sorry – “ 
“You are an idiot,” Suga said, grinning like an idiot, and didn’t bother to wipe the tears off his cheeks when he stumbled over to Daichi and caught his lips in a kiss. “You could’ve – could’ve said somethin’, God, I l-love you.” 

Daichi’s eyes glowed when he pulled Suga closer, and kissed him again. “I’m sorry, sugar. I guess I didn’t know how to tell you other than – well, this. And I love you, too.” 

The guitar made a sad, dissonant squeak when it was kicked off the bed, and Suga allowed Daichi to find out just how sweet his lips were, over and over again. 

For their first official date, Suga and Daichi decide to just stay home and make dinner. Suga ends up cooking, and the food is absolutely delicious. When Daichi tries it out, he goes very silent, his dark eyes widening, and Suga feels his heart stop. He asks if it tastes that bad.
And Daichi blurts out, cheeks red like the strawberry dessert Suga made: “God, I want to marry you so much right now.”

The rest of the evening is awkwardly quiet, but it’s also kind of good, because Suga finally dares to hold his hand while they watch some movie, nestled against Daichi’s side. Suga doesn’t say a word when Daichi buries his nose in his hair, and when gentle fingers trace along his wrist, so shy, as if he’s fragile.

And when Daichi leaves, Suga kisses him with soft lips that taste like strawberries.