notsuchasecret:

Send me a ship and a color and I’ll write a ficlet that feels like that color.
A drabble for you, my dear.

The
windows were open, letting in a soft summer breeze. Soft music was
playing from the stereo in the corner, filling the room with a quiet
sort of peace. The air smelled like leaves and fresh air. Makoto
stood in the middle of the living room, his head on Sousuke’s
shoulder, swaying back and forth to the sound of the music.

“I
love you so much,” Sousuke murmured, running a broad hand up
Makoto’s back. Makoto hummed.

“I
love you more,” he sighed, not wanting to break the quiet by
talking too loud. Sousuke chuckled.

“I
love you even more.”