KiteKai. There are days and then there are days. Some people make them better.
He enjoys someone who can talk about anything and not expect a reply, he likes the lazy enjoyment that Kai gets from life, he loves the soft, tentitive carresses hidden by bushes or buildings from passer-by.
Kai understands that Kite is not going to turn into a bloodthirsty monster that needs to be chained up any moment now, and he appreciates beauty in nature and art that Kite only sees in dark eyes and red hair.
Where Kai seems like the useless one of the two of them, he is actually much more intelligent than Kite will ever be, and wise to boot. Kite is the one with the red-hot temper and drive to be noticed, despite appearances.
They go for a walk on the beach, feeling the sand under their bare feet all afternoon, whiping away calluses, before going back to Kite's apartment, where Kai calls his parents to warn them of a sleep-over. Kite heats the instant-noodles for supper at the same time. It's hardly nutritunal, but neither feel like cooking, though both can. It's part of living in Oakinawa.
The television is turned to news until a pop-idol comes on, and then it's on to a movie, a subtitled American piece, and they sit and eat with their backs against Kite's headboarad, taking care not to drop on the sheets.
They finished the evening as Kite's hormonial body told him it would: with slowly exploring kisses and hands that don't know where to go. The television is only turned off with Eishorou falling asleep half-naked on top of the sheets. Youjirou managed to wrangle them both into the small bed and found that Eishorou's arm fitted perfectly around his waist.