Teshima can't sleep the night before their first drop.
He knew this would happen. He spent all day trying to prepare, wore himself out in the morning and eased himself towards sleep in the evening, and by the time he got out of the shower to let his hair drip itself to damp from wet while he brushes out Aoyagi's for him he had thought he might succeed in his attempt at rest. But when he lies down in bed the adrenaline hits him all at once, panic and excitement and anticipation tangled too close to separate, and he can't relax, and he can't stop shaking, and he certainly can't sleep. He manages to lie still for almost an hour, breathing as naturally as he can so he won't interrupt Aoyagi's own rest. But he can hear the other's breathing, slow and calm but still faster than unconsciousness would allow for, and he's not surprised when fingers touch his shoulder.
"I can't sleep," Teshima says aloud, like this isn't patently obvious. "I'm too wound up."
The fingers curl against his collarbone, tug in silent encouragement. Teshima scoots across the bed, pulling away by a few inches so he won't hit Aoyagi with his shoulder when he rolls over onto his back and turns his head to blink up at the other's features. They are cast soft and gentle in the blue-black of the night, half-blurred outlines Teshima can fill in by heart. He lifts a hand, reaches out to idly touch the details lost to the darkness, the curve of a lip, the edge of a cheekbone, the soft shape of an eyebrow.
"I'm not scared," he murmurs, like he's talking to himself. As far as Teshima is concerned, he is. There's no one who knows him as well as Aoyagi does, as evidenced by the incredulous raise of the eyebrow under his fingertips in response to his claim.
Teshima has to laugh. "Yeah, I guess I am a little. But that's not why I can't sleep."
Aoyagi nods, tips in so the line of his body is curving half-over Teshima's shoulder. His mouth presses against the bare skin of Teshima's chest, his breath flutters warm and even like he's blowing the tension off Teshima like so much dust.
"It's just hard to believe." Teshima's not speaking loudly, just enough for the satisfaction of humming vibration in his throat, softly enough that it pulls the shadows in closer, the two of them hiding under a shared blanket from the darkness. "I mean. After all this time."
"Tomorrow," Aoyagi says against his skin, slowly shaping out the word until every syllable feels like a kiss.
"Yeah." Teshima takes a breath, lets it skid out into the air. Aoyagi slides an arm around him. He moves his hand to push his fingers through soft strands of gold hair. "It's just a few hours away."
Aoyagi smiles. Teshima can feel the expression slipping across the other's lips, spreading wider with the unhurried pace of true sincerity, and then his own expression follows suit all at once, a sudden burst of delight hitting him like it's Christmas morning.
"Tomorrow," he says, turning in sideways to reach for Aoyagi's mouth, and Aoyagi is tipping his head up for contact without hesitating. Teshima presses his lips to the familiar softness of Aoyagi's mouth, trails his fingers down the line of the blond's spine, and his panic flickers out and away as his blood goes warm with promise.
They're be fine, he's sure of it. They have each other, and that's never steered them wrong before.