There is something in your arms

So safe and warm

You know you make me feel so calm

And since you stroked my hair

And held me through the night

I know it's gonna be alright.

And you say that I'm your angel

That I'm your guiding star

What it all comes down to is I'm only human too

I love you just the way you are.

Sitting on the edge of the balcony, watching loud cars zoom through the wider streets of Shibuya and the lights of the buildings twinkle like stars.

Warm arms around his waist, making him smile smile smile like nobody's business, occasionally drifting higher or lower to brush against his pants or chest.

Smelling men's deodorant and soap, clean smell and hot in his nose, making him sneeze and making the one behind him laugh affectionately.

And he giggled too, feeling happiness curl in his stomach and rise throughout his ribcage, brushing his nerves to make him shiver pleasantly.

Beat could make him beyond happy. And his world slowly expanded.

Well you done done me in your bed

I felt it

I tried to beat you

But you're so hot

That I melted

I slipped right through the cracks

And now I'm trying to get back.

Before the cool done run out

I'll be giving it my bestest

And nothing's gonna stop me

But divine intervention

I reckon it's again my turn

To win some or learn some

I won't hesitate no more, no more

It cannot wait

I'm yours

Warm arms wrapped around his waist and twitching in REM sleep. Deep, slow breaths tickling the nape of his neck, making the hair there part and fall back into place rhythmically. A leg draped over his, possessive and affectionate at the same time.

The occasional grunt or quiet moan to accompany the dreaming, usually in sync with any arm movements. And that warm smell, hot and sweet and totally overwhelming when his senses were heightened but comforting right now. Hot blanket covering them both, Beat's taste in colours and patterns (a tribal pattern, tiger print, blacks and reds).

And Beat's face buried in his hair, sending pleasant tingles into the skin on his neck.

Beat could make him feel safe.

My beloved monster and me

We go everywhere together.

Wearing a raincoat that has four sleeves

Gets us through all kinds of weather.

She will always be the only thing

That comes between me and the awful sting

That comes from living in a world that's

So damn mean.

Rain, cloudy sky and wet socks that irritated to no end. It set his teeth on edge just thinking about the feeling, let alone suffering that sensation whenever he took a step.

Splish splosh splish splosh whoooosh the sound of a car going through a puddle and splashing whoever was unfortunate to be standing close enough to the curb.

A red and orange umbrella, shielding from the rain. A sunny smile to break the clouds, and sky blue eyes to match.

Large hands passed over the umbrella in favour of buttoning his yellow raincoat properly (it had been quite the rush this morning, and buttons weren't the highest priority), before placing themselves on his shoulders. And Beat's mouth found his, wet with rain and curved up because it was always like that.

And it was decided. Beat would keep him dry.

I'll put in some ingredients

But keep the rest for me

I'm not just disobedient

I'm careful can't you see?

It's a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake

If the way is hazy

You gotta do the cooking by the book

You know you can't be lazy

Never use a messy recipe

The cake will end up crazy

If you do the cooking by the book

Then you'll have a cake.

The whirr of the mixer, shining metal and hazardous parts making it too easy to break a finger or hand. Tempting smell of cake mix, fluffy and yellowish from the butter.

The rumble of an empty stomach, an accompanying growl from Beat's mouth.

Warmth against his back, feeling another torso pressing against him in anticipation of the treat, but he stumbled forwards from the force and bumped the mixer.

Buttery cake mix spattering his nose, his cheeks, his clean, white shirt and his hair, making him huff and turn off the infernal machine.

A snigger from Beat, before rough wetness cleaned the mix off his face and invaded his mouth to share the taste.

Beat would keep him well fed.

When the moon found the sun

It looked like he was barely hanging on

But her eyes saved his light

In the middle of summer.

In the middle of summer

All was golden in the sky

All was golden when the day met the night

Summer, all was golden in the sky

All was golden when the day met the night

Summer, summer, summer, summer

Golden when the day met the night

Run-down, dull eyes. Not the usual brilliant blue with energy flickering and darting here and there. Pale skin, not ruddy with health and vibrancy.

The occasional cough, rough and grating but still in that voice which made him melt when it was used correctly. The loud blast of a nose being blown into a now-pathetic tissue, dumped onto the floor with the others.

Clammy hands touching his, fingers intertwining as those dull eyes met his and pleaded for a kindly touch as opposed to the soup he'd just brought out.

Golden hair matted, out from beneath that beanie which otherwise never left it, coarse beneath his free hand. A soft croak of gratitude, miserable sniffle and he smiled fondly, knowing how hard it must be for Beat to be so sick and how bad Beat must've felt for making him run around for a week now.

Soft sigh, with clammy hands touching his face fondly. Dry, chafed lips against his, going against better judgement and basic hygiene.

But he didn't feel like going to work for the next week anyway.

Beat would make him feel wanted and loved.