[ Something about Kojiro's expression, the warmth in his eyes, makes Kaoru feel so seen. Usually, it would be unsettling for someone to know him so well, but Kojiro never uses that knowledge against him. There's something else in his face, too, something that makes Kaoru wonder if he wants to spend the night as close as their bodies allow, to fill Kojiro's bed with all of the pent-up love and desire that they've carried these past weeks.
But food first. It's Kojiro's love language, and Kaoru hasn't eaten all day, so dinner is a priority. He brings his plate to the couch and waits for Kojiro to settle before sitting down practically in his lap, legs flung over Kojiro's and shoulder resting against his. ] This is good, by the way. What's it called?
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But food first. It's Kojiro's love language, and Kaoru hasn't eaten all day, so dinner is a priority. He brings his plate to the couch and waits for Kojiro to settle before sitting down practically in his lap, legs flung over Kojiro's and shoulder resting against his. ] This is good, by the way. What's it called?