Yuta - Just Say It

                                    

                                          
Imagine some stand in boyfriend preferably someone you're not too attached to but also someone that you want to be deeply in love with you. 
                          
"What!?" Your voice was so obnoxiously surprised and fake, that it pained you to hear. It came out defensive sounding but still trying to seem light-hearted and playful. 
                          
You pulled back from the embrace of this man you'd met last Thursday - you'd thought of him as just a friend but he must've thought other wise. His face hadn't fallen yet still stuck in that dumb, moony I love you swoon - that you felt yourself resenting. After an hour of watching him play League of Legends he was professing his undying love to you. How he only breathed with you around, breath pointless, life meaningless unless you were near. Which would be endearing if you felt any semblance of these emotions towards him. 
                          
However, you didn't. So, there you sat, with a boy staring down into your eyes as if he were a near sighted man trying to read a skywriter's message. His hand like jello in yours, too limp and clammy. With your stomach trying to force its' way out of your throat as if to make the awkward silence worse, your stomach volunteered itself to be ready to throw up. 
                          
Because, you know, that's what normal people do when someone say's they love them ... throw up. 
                          
"Tell it again!" Yuta laughed, leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter to listen to the traumatizing morning you'd had. 
                          
You groaned and threw the towel that you were using to dry the dishes at him. "Stop. It's not funny. I'm going to have to go to therapy because of this." 
                          
Yuta smiled continuing to clean the dirtied dishes. "This? Out of all the things that went wrong in your life, this is what's driving you to therapy?" 
                          
You yanked the towel off his shoulder as he passed you a bowl. "I'm serious." you said, scrubbing viciously at the wet marks. "It's awful all I could say was 'Thanks, you too.'" 
                          
Yuta grabbed the bowl that you were gripping with animosity, gently putting it in the drying racks as if to sooth it from the death grip you'd had it in. "At least you were polite." he offered, shrugging his shoulders.
                          
You sighed, beginning to dry the plate he gave you. "Let's practice." Yuta said with a smile, looking over at you as he handed you another bowl. You took the bowl before gently brushing back some hair that had fallen into his face, his smile grew and he began washing the dishes with a newfound vigour.
                          
"Alright but if I throw up on our nice clean dishes, it's your fault." You sighed wistfully wishing you could have just lied to Mr.I-love-you-but-we-only-met-last-thursday.
                          
"Alright, now tell me you love me." Yuta said, turning from the sink to face you. His hip resting on the counter as his arm reached around to hold your waist spinning you to him. 
                          
You flushed, you two shared a cramped apartment but had you ever been this close? Where Yuta's hand layed you could feel yourself tense, your heart beat hammering in your ears. Every inch of your body was alive and noticeable - as was his you could see the rise and fall of his smooth chest beneath his almost translucent white shirt.  "I can't do it on command! I'm not some trained dog." 
                          
You huffed trying to pull out of his embrace and focus on drying the final glasses, but Yuta held tight bringing his free arm to wrap around your shoulders and bring you closer to him. The glasses long forgotten as you felt his knuckles lift your chin up to meet his gaze. 
                          
"Here, I'll go first." his warm eyes stared into yours as a small smirk bloomed on his features. "I love you." 
                          
Your knees buckled and you were thankful for Yuta's hold on you, you reached out a hand to lay on his chest as you casually pretend to pick away some imaginary lint to hide that fact that his words had made you so vulnerable. 
                          
"Now, your turn Y/n." Yuta's smile didn't budge as you busied yourself with smoothing his unwrinkled shirt across his shoulders, finding busy work for your hands to avoid talking. You let your hands trail from either sides of his shoulders down his arms until you carefully clasped them together, squeezing tightly, wanting to curl up in an embarrassed ball and roll far, far away. 
                          
"I love you too." you said monotonously. 
                          
Yuta laughed, a clear and pronounced sound in the nearly silent kitchen. "Now," he snickered. "Try saying it with some meaning." 
                          
You huffed, your cheeks warming as did your temper. This was oddly embarrassing, you weren't sure why. You'd shared much worse secrets and more embarrassing moments than this with Yuta. Why were you suddenly feeling so exposed? And why did you want this moment to last forever?
                          
"I do." you stated firmly. You hands reaching up to grab his collar, bundling it tightly as if he to stop him from running away. 
                          
Yuta scoffed, twisting back to the sink. "Wow, you might not need the practice Y/n. For a second there I believed you." 
                          
His tone was rather emotionless, you tilted your head trying to read his face. Isn't this what he'd wanted? For you to say you loved him? Why was he brushing you off it wasn't like any of this was real to him. Ever since you've known Yuta he'd constantly get in situations where you thought that this would be the time he kissed you or made some kind of move but, he never had. The moment always slipped away.
                          
But today it wasn't going to. "I do." you said, grabbing the glass Yuta thrust at you. "I love you, you should know that." you spoke quietly, anxious to hear Yuta's answer.
                          
His hand wrapped over yours that was drying the plate, halting your movements. He pulled you into his chest, you grappled with the glass not wanting to puncture him in the stomach, opting instead to wrap your hands around his neck. 
                          
"Thanks, you too." He whispered against the top of your head, punctuating the sentence with a chaste forehead kiss. Before releasing you gently and patting you on the head. "Maybe, you should go tell your boyfriend who you really love." he smirked returning his gaze to the sink.
                          
"HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"