They had lived together before. Yata had seen Saruhiko clothed and unclothed, half asleep with his hair sticking up or neatly put together in formal wear. There was really no reason on the first night they were rooming together again that he should be gobsmacked by the sight of his best friend wandering out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel.
Saruhiko ran a hand through his hair absently, new scars and new muscle visible on his lean frame, and he looked good.
Saruhiko blinked at him. “Are you burning dinner?”
Yata swore and snatched it off the burner.