Love Me Harder // MatsuHana.

nineteen

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across Matsukawa's room. Hanamaki blinked awake, groaning as he shifted in bed. His body ached in places he didn't even know could ache, and the soreness in his lower half made him wince. Matsukawa, still half-asleep beside him, grunted and shifted, his arm flopping over Hanamaki's waist.

Hanamaki stared up at the ceiling, trying to suppress a smile. The events of last night played on a loop in his head, a mix of disbelief and smug satisfaction. He was sore, but honestly, it was worth it.

Matsukawa stirred, eyes cracking open as he turned to face Hanamaki. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice raspy from sleep.

"Morning," Hanamaki replied, smirking. "Not to be dramatic or anything, but I think you broke my ass."

Matsukawa snorted, his face breaking into a grin. "Well, that's one way to start the day."

Hanamaki shifted again, wincing with exaggerated flair. "No, seriously. I think I'll be walking funny for at least a week."

Matsukawa chuckled, rolling onto his side and propping his head up with one hand. "I did warn you, didn't I?"

Hanamaki shot him a playful glare. "You didn't warn me enough. I should've signed a waiver or something."

Matsukawa's laughter was deep, and Hanamaki felt a little too proud of himself for being the cause of it. "Stop being so dramatic," Matsukawa teased, leaning over to press a kiss to Hanamaki's temple. "You'll live."

"I'll survive," Hanamaki said, sighing dramatically, "but I'm demanding breakfast as compensation."

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're demanding breakfast now?"

"Yup," Hanamaki replied, fully committed to the bit. "I went through a lot last night. The least you can do is feed me."

Matsukawa smirked, leaning closer until his lips brushed against Hanamaki's ear. "How about I make you breakfast and then we see if you can handle another round?"

Hanamaki's face flushed bright red, and he shoved Matsukawa playfully. "I'm never going to survive being around you."

Matsukawa grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You love it."

And he wasn't wrong.

After a while, Matsukawa finally rolled out of bed, still smirking as he headed toward the door. "Alright, alright," he called over his shoulder, "I'll go make us something before you start starving to death."

Hanamaki lay back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head, still feeling the soreness in his legs and back, but the lazy smile on his face wouldn't leave. He watched Matsukawa leave the room, his tall figure disappearing into the hallway, and he couldn't help but feel a warmth settle in his chest. This whole thing-sleeping over, waking up next to each other-it felt oddly domestic. Comfortable, even.

A few minutes later, the sounds of pans clattering in the kitchen drifted back into the room, and Hanamaki chuckled to himself. Matsukawa may have looked put together, but the guy was far from graceful when it came to cooking.

With a groan, Hanamaki forced himself to sit up, wincing at the stiffness in his body. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this," he muttered to himself, rubbing the back of his neck before slowly making his way out of bed. He tugged on a pair of Matsukawa's sweatpants-because there was no way he was squeezing back into his own tight jeans after last night-and padded out toward the kitchen.

When he stepped into the doorway, the sight that greeted him made him stop in his tracks. Matsukawa was standing in front of the stove, shirtless, his hair still messy from sleep, as he flipped something in a frying pan. The muscles in his back flexed as he moved, and Hanamaki, leaning casually against the doorframe, couldn't help but smirk at the view.

"You know," Hanamaki said, his voice dripping with playful teasing, "you look like total husband material right now."

Matsukawa glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow but unable to hide the small grin on his lips. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Hanamaki continued, walking up to the counter and hopping onto it, sitting with his legs dangling as he watched Matsukawa. "Cooking breakfast, looking all domestic and shit. If you keep this up, I might just propose."

Matsukawa chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to the stove. "You're ridiculous, Makki."

"I'm serious," Hanamaki said, leaning back on his hands. "You've got the whole husband package going on. Tall, hot, can cook... Sort of."

"'Sort of'?" Matsukawa glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "I'll have you know I'm making perfect scrambled eggs over here."

Hanamaki grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "We'll see about that once I actually taste it."

Matsukawa shot him a look but didn't bother to respond, focusing instead on finishing up breakfast. Hanamaki watched him move around the kitchen with a sense of calm efficiency, completely at ease in his space. He had this way of making everything feel... normal, even though they were clearly past the point of 'just friends' now. It was reassuring, in a way that Hanamaki hadn't realized he needed.

A few minutes later, Matsukawa slid a plate of scrambled eggs and toast onto the counter next to Hanamaki. "Here," he said, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Let's see if I pass the husband material test."

Hanamaki picked up his fork, taking a bite of the eggs and making an exaggerated face as he chewed. Matsukawa narrowed his eyes, watching him closely. "Well?"

With an overly dramatic sigh, Hanamaki swallowed the bite and shrugged. "Not bad," he said, grinning. "I'd give it a solid eight out of ten. Points deducted for presentation."

Matsukawa scoffed, grabbing his own plate and leaning against the counter across from Hanamaki. "You're lucky I even made you breakfast, brat."

"Lucky, huh?" Hanamaki teased, popping another bite into his mouth. "More like spoiled."

Matsukawa gave him a pointed look, but there was a softness behind his teasing. Hanamaki caught it and found himself smiling wider. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, eating their breakfast together in the kitchen. It was a simple scene, but Hanamaki couldn't help but feel like this was something he could get used to.

"So," Hanamaki said after a few moments, breaking the quiet. "You free later, husband material?"

Matsukawa smirked, glancing up at him. "Depends. What's on the agenda?"

Hanamaki leaned forward, his grin turning mischievous. "Oh, nothing much. Just round two."

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Is that right?"

Hanamaki shrugged, winking. "Well, you said I had to handle another round, didn't you?"

Matsukawa laughed, pushing off the counter and stepping closer to Hanamaki. "Guess I did, huh?" He leaned in, his face inches from Hanamaki's. "You sure you're up for it, though? You were complaining about your ass a lot earlier."

Hanamaki's cheeks flushed, but he didn't back down. "I'm tougher than I look, Matsun."

"Good to know," Matsukawa murmured, his voice low as he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Hanamaki's in a slow, teasing kiss.

Hanamaki hummed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Matsukawa's neck and pulling him closer. "Might as well get used to this husband material thing," he whispered against Matsukawa's lips, smirking. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Matsukawa smiled into the kiss, pulling Hanamaki off the counter and into his arms. "Good," he whispered back.