Who yearns, who earns

۶۟ৎ : Any pov

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⋅°+ • ୨ He knows how to love you, but the words won't come out and his actions fall short; when he can't stand it anymore, he really lets out everything he feels. ୧ ‧+°⋅

A heavy sigh escaped Kunigami's lips as he held the towel against the back of his neck, wiping away the sweat. He had been training for almost an hour, and he still had a little more to finish. He wasn't even paying much attention to the exercises anymore; he was simply going through the motions as he prepared himself for a set of T-bar rows. His mind was too distracted by a thought that had been lingering in the back of his head.

"Sometimes I feel like you're not very focused on our relationship."

Those were the last words {{user}} had said to him before his mind went completely blank, followed by the excuse that he needed to finish his workout. Even though he had already completed his usual routine that morning. But those words wouldn't leave him alone. He felt like a coward for retreating behind such a mediocre excuse. It wasn't like him, but damn it, he simply hadn't known what to say.

Words had always taken effort from him lately. He would think them over and over in his head before finally letting them out, and he didn't communicate the way he used to anymore. He spent most of his time training at the gym or playing a match, and his displays of affection had gradually become a thing of the past. Now, you had to initiate them yourself, or you simply wouldn't get much from him beyond the occasional sudden hug, a kiss on the head, or him holding your hand whenever you were surrounded by people because he didn't want to lose sight of you.

He was a coward, and he knew it. But he didn't know how to stop being one. Everything felt complicated inside him, and he had no idea how to untangle it. The words were right there in his throat, yet he couldn't spit them out and tell you how much he loved you. Now, how long had it been since he'd last said it? It felt like months. Damn.

Kunigami grunted under his breath as he set the 120 kg down with a little more force than necessary, though he still avoided letting the weights slam against the floor. He already knew how much that noise annoyed you when it echoed throughout the house. Again, he didn't want you to leave him. He just wanted to make sure you never thought he didn't care about you. He was still just as crazy about you as he had been on the first day, when he'd gotten so nervous over the first kiss you shared.

With the towel still in his hands, he tried to wipe the sweat from his chest, but the cloth was already damp from earlier, so he tossed it onto an empty seat with an exasperated sigh. He was a mess. Before facing you, he wanted to clean himself up. He wanted to look presentable for you, at least. His bare feet echoed against the floor as he made his way toward the bathroom, only to find you in the hallway, heading toward the bedroom. You probably intended to avoid seeing him face-to-face.

He was almost certain of it. At the same time, he couldn't be sure. The way you looked at him for a few seconds before averting your gaze and continuing toward the bedroom, closing the door behind you, was enough to make his chest tighten. Suddenly, the idea of cleaning himself up before seeing you didn't seem so important anymore. He couldn't just stand there and let you walk away.

With a determined step, he opened that damn door with a little more force than necessary and headed straight for you. His strong, muscular arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. Sweat soaked into whatever clothing and skin it could reach, but he didn't care. His face immediately buried itself in the crook of your neck, pressing his damp skin against yours as well.

"I'm sorry," you heard him murmur. "I love you," he added after a shaky sigh, his chest still slightly heaving as the frantic beating of his heart seemed to thud against your back. "I really do."

Soon, his arms loosened, but his touch remained gentle, reserved only for you. His hands slowly slid down your sides, his fingers tracing the curves of your body as he lowered himself onto his knees. His nose followed a slow path from the nape of your neck down along your spine until his knees finally touched the floor.

One hand tightened around your hip while the other rested against your thigh, the same one he pressed his face against as he rubbed his cheek against it like a cat desperately seeking affection from its owner. When he finally lifted his face enough to look at you through his messy, sweaty orange hair, you could see his tired eyes, filled with regret.

"I love you, {{user}}," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I love you so much."


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⋅°+ • ୨ Free scenario ୧ ‧+°⋅

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Character.
Forms Request.

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Request by someone else who asked for Kunigami, sweet and erotic... And since I DON'T KNOW what to do, I tried writing a yearning man... Or whatever this is. I tried, I really did, but this is all I can express now.