Work Text:
Tanaka wishes Ennoshita didn't look so at home standing in his bathroom, using his toothbrush, wearing his t-shirt over those small black briefs—
Well, no, that's not quite right. Tanaka likes that Ennoshita feels comfortable in his apartment, using his things, just—being with Tanaka.
But it's making things difficult in a number of ways. First is that he needs to get ready for class, but the sight of Ennoshita in this precise moment is too good to leave, too gratifying to miss.
Then there's the fact that the t-shirt that Ennoshita is wearing is going to smell like him, and it's Tanaka's only clean t-shirt, so there's no way he's going to avoid wearing said t-shirt, and thus no way he's going to avoid smelling Ennoshita all day. He doesn't even know what Ennoshita smells like, he just knows he likes it, and that it's distracting.
(The fact that it is his only clean shirt, meaning he needs to do laundry, is far less worrisome.)
Tanaka also just really wants to run his hands through Ennoshita's hair, make it messier than it already is, and maybe kiss him. Preferably both. At the same time.
Ennoshita turns to look at him and arches a brow when he catches Tanaka's gaze.
"Hah?" he asks around the mouthful of toothbrush and toothpaste.
He's cute even when he does that. Tanaka is screwed, disarmed, and rather hopelessly charmed.
He shrugs, hoping his cheeks aren't as flushed as they feel.
The corners of Ennoshita's mouth curl upward in the beginning of a smile, and Tanaka feels a trickle of apprehension. "What?"
Ennoshita spits into the sink and rinses the toothbrush, coming back into the bedroom with a fully-formed smirk. "What were you thinking about just now?" he asks, sliding back into the bed to crawl on top of Tanaka, who had been lying on his stomach while he watched Ennoshita get ready.
This is a highly unfair tactic. Tanaka mumbles something unintelligible, stuffing his face into the pillow.
"Ryuu," Ennoshita says, drawing close enough his breath tickles Tanaka's neck and ear. "You were so open last night. I know you're terrible at keeping secrets."
This much, unfortunately, is painfully true. Tanaka groans.
But he refuses to embarrass himself with the gushy stuff. He's going to be smooth, and suave, the guy he kind of managed to be last night when they fell into bed together, an occurrence that feels more like a comfortable routine. Tanaka sits up, and Ennoshita makes room so they can face each other.
It only makes sense for Ennoshita to—
"I was just—you—I—"
Smooth and suave. Ennoshita waits, the smirk having given way to a softer smile.
Tanaka clears his throat. "I was thinking you should leave a toothbrush here, y'know. So we don't worry about. Germs."
Ennoshita blinks. "Germs."
Tanaka nods.
Ennoshita's lips are pressed tight around what Tanaka can only assume to be laughter, but he manages to refrain. He nods, responding, "Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea." He hums, trailing a hand up Tanaka's arm. "Now I'm pretty sure you're going to be late for your class if you don't get moving."
"Well, I'd be out the door already, but some guy was using my toothbrush—"
"Oh, so it's my fault?"
On Tanaka's way out the front door, Ennoshita—now shirtless—gives him a light swat on his ass.
(For the record, it was completely Ennoshita's fault.)