misa’s things start to slowly take over sam’s apartment. he doesn’t really notice, just moves misa’s shoes to the side when he takes his off, picks up the horrendous leather jacket draped over his couch and hangs it up carefully. he washes their mugs and places them together in the cabinet next to each other. misa’s toothbrush—a red-orange to sam’s light blue—sits in the cup with sam’s.
misa brings over a blanket and leave it on sam’s couch and now it lives there along with pillow he picked up when he went to ikea with vinny. he brings coasters because my mom said the wood is too nice to ruin and now he has coasters on his coffee table.
sam’s bedroom closet slowly makes space for misa, his shirts and sweaters that he leaves in exchange for one of sam’s. a drawer is emptied for misa, shorts and pants and sweats shoved into it until sam forces misa to sit down and fold them properly. the bed side table has random things misa brings, a rock from the lake, a rubix cube that has his attention for three days before he left it there, a dog-eared book and a bottle of pain killers.
misa takes the side closest to the wall, one pillow becomes two, two becomes four and suddenly sam is wide awake, misa pressed against him and a pillow unpleasantly arching his neck. his tosses two onto the floor, tugging misa closer and falls asleep grumbling about unnecessary pillows if you’re just gonna fall asleep on my chest
sam’s car has traces of misa, the specific type of gum he likes, the three lollipops the old guy from the corner shop gave him on a late-night snack run, his airpods that he keeps losing, his wallet too, his car keys once you drive and pay anyway misa had said with a shrug, eyes bright as sam stared in disbelief.
misa seems to move himself in, taking over sam’s living room with his game console because you hate me and won’t buy one even if sam doesn’t play games the way misa does, he takes long naps curled up in sam’s bed, dressed in sam’s shirt and socks, the short long enough to hide the edge of his boxers.
sam drags misa to the gym early in the morning even though misa bitches at him the entire time until they finish their hour and a half workout and sam buys him his expensive coffee and misa kisses his cheek in thanks before launching into a topic sam doesn’t listen to because his cheeks feel too warm and his hands are suddenly clammy.
the kisses become like currency, every time sam does something for misa, he’s always offering his cheek up for misa’s chapped lips and misa grins. misa presses a kiss above sam’s heart when they go to sleep, he presses sleepy, shaky kisses to the line of sam’s neck when a nightmare wakes him up and sam pulls him into his arms like its second nature.
sam kisses him in the darkness of the hallway, blood pumping and head going airy when misa sighs into it, as if he was waiting for sam to catch up. sam kisses him whenever he gets the chance; in the morning when they’re waking up and misa grumbles about morning breath, after their coffee and sam can almost taste the sugar, in the car before practices and games; in the equipment room and the hidden corners of the sap center.
misa moves in properly, a small suitcase behind him. all his things are here already, his clothes and shoes and all the things that make him comfortable.
sam steps in behind him, arm finding its home around his waist. misa grins at him, eyes bright and content as he walks in further, sam trails behind him, phone already pulled out to order something to eat.
he kisses misa against the counter, misa makes a happy noise and sinks into it, letting sam take control.
