I just wanted to write something soft and short. I was trying to challenge myself to crank out and post a one-shot in one sitting. Apparently, I am incapable, because I've been hanging onto this for months now.

I also apparently find it really difficult to stick strictly to fluff and good feeling. I re-wrote this like three separate times cuz it kept sliding into angstville (눈_눈)

Anyway! I attempted pushing my boundaries, and this is what you get because of it.

Have fun.


It was snowing outside.

He didn't notice for a solid forty-five minutes, as he was preoccupied with scribbling down an outline for his next research paper on the back of an open-house ad that had just happened to be loose on the corner of the desk. His laptop was currently dead, because the power adapter had short-circuited, and he'd run out of room in his notebook. Unsurprising, as he was known to be a dreadfully thorough note-taker. So innovation it was tonight.

He'd been manning the real estate office while his uncle was out with a client, but the closing hour had come and gone a good while ago, and he hadn't gotten up to turn the sign about or lock the door yet, because he'd gotten far too zoned in on his homework, which he really hadn't even planned on starting until he'd at least had dinner. But he'd missed that too.

His workload had just been rather heavy lately, and though he was often careful about pacing himself, he also hated having a lengthy to-do list, and often couldn't sit peacefully when there were tasks to complete. So he'd spent the whole shift slowly working his way through the list, and he told himself this would be the last of it for tonight — if only he could manage to blink sometime soon.

He hadn't even noticed the ache starting to spread across his back truthfully. Because he was hunched over the desk and had been that way for a while, nose unnecessarily close to the paper as his hand struggled to write as quickly as his ideas were moving.

He didn't hear the second hand of the clock on the wall, ticking the minutes away, dragging the sun into the horizon to leave the city outside in shadows and glowing artificial light. The snow didn't stick but it was drifting heavily. Big, delicate ice crystals peppering the streets and dissolving on the sidewalks as soon as they landed. It didn't catch his attention until his phone lit up and started buzzing on the desk just inches from his face.

He let it ring for just a moment, pushing on until his last thought was fully on paper, and then he glanced up to see Asahi's name on the lock screen, and he was already smiling to himself. It was suddenly easy, laying the pen down and exchanging it for his phone which he pressed to his ear as he came out of his lean and slumped back in his chair with a sigh — only just then noticing the rain of white falling down outside of the office windows.

"Asahi," he greeted, watching the snow fall.

"Kis-" Asahi was interrupted immediately by a loud hiccup. "Shiggs, 'm all alone~ [hiccup] S'fuckin' tragic. Y'know what I need?"

Kisumi's lips curled up patiently. He did not laugh, but he was tempted to. It circled the bottom of his stomach like a bubbling current instead. His tone was soft and compliant when he responded, like he was speaking to a child.

"What do you need, Asahi?"

"Somethin' sweeeet~ [hiccup]."

One cough of a chuckle did manage to break out, but he swallowed the rest down and rubbed at his forehead. "Do you now?"

"Yuss~ I know a tall drink o' [hiccup] pink lemonade thass gotta be sum'mere 'round here."

Kisumi pressed his fingers to his lips to hide the rosiness of his smile from literally no one. He shook his head, rolling his eyes to himself. "Not pink lemonade."

"Yessir [hiccup]. The sparklin' kind."

"Ooh~"

"Mmmhm. 'm salivatin'. Kin you help me out?"

Kisumi draped one leg over the other and crossed his arm over his chest. "I dunno. That's sounds a little salacious — like you've been tossing back some whiskey shots maybe. Think you might be drunk?"

"Notevenalilbit."

Kisumi nodded. "I see. Where are you right now?"

"Fuckif I know, man [hiccup]. 'm lost as shit."

Kisumi hummed a sigh and stood, already reaching to pack his stuff back in his bag. "Where are you coming from?"

"Left."

"Okay. That doesn't really help me out, hun."

"Well I was with Nat and Seij, but they're fuckin' [hiccup] gone, man. Like- …" Insert dramatic *poof* sound effect. "Jus' [hiccup] blinked, y'know?"

Kisumi shrugged on his coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck. "I see. What bar were you guys at?"

"The one with all the tits."

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he sighed under his breath, shrugging his bag onto his back. "I thought Nao and Natsuya had some form of an agreement that strip clubs were off limits — most especially when Seijuro's involved."

"Well, we weren't gonna go [hiccup]. But Seij gets real horny when he's fucked up and we jus' kinda ended up there sumhow." He could practically hear Asahi shrugging through the phone, as though he had no earthly idea how the three of them had accidentally tripped into a titty bar. "Nat told 'im [hiccup] he was gonna get'n trouble, but Seij said s'was fine … then they got vaporized."

"Do you know what side of town you're on?"

Hiccup. "No."

"What do you see?"

"Mmmm … Oh, I think issnowin'."

"Yes. It is. Good job. What else?"

"Holy shit," Asahi gasped. There was a moment in which all that could be heard was chaotic rustling, and then he came back with, "I thought that tree was a ghost."

Kisumi had turned the office lights off by now and finally got around to flipping the closed sign on his way out. He locked the door behind him and started toward the train station. "Are you in a park?"

"Oh. Thass what it's called. Like with all the grass 'n shit?"

"Yes. What's the name of the club you were at, Asahi?"

"Uhh … [Hiccup] Shit. Somethin' like … Seven — Seven Skies. Seven Tits. Seven Halves. Seven Dicks. Seventh … Ohh~ Seventh Heaven. [Hiccup] Thass the one."

Kisumi buried the half a chuckle that escaped into his scarf and stuffed his free hand into his pocket. "Okay. I'm gonna come find you. Just sit tight for a second. Think you can do that?"

"Only you~ can make all this world seem right. Oh-Only you~ can make the darkness bright …"


Asahi was laid out in the half inch of snow that had collected on the ground at Hinokicho Park. He was staring up at the sky in glassy wonder when Kisumi found him, limbs thrown out to the sides as though he'd thought about making a snow angel but couldn't be bothered to once he hit the ground.

Kisumi's breath left him in a little cloud of vapor — maybe partway with relief, but mostly just with exhausted humor. He hung up the call that had been going the entire twenty-four minutes it had taken to get to this side of town and wander the park for Asahi's specific whereabouts. He stuffed it in his pocket and walked up to his best friend, stopping with the toes of his boots at his hip to stare down at him.

"How ya doin'?"

Asahi's magenta eyes slid over to him and took their time bringing him into focus. He hiccuped. "Still got the fuckin' hiccups."

"I can hear that. You cold?"

"Can't feel m'fingers."

"Maybe you shouldn't be laying on the ground huh?"

Hiccup. "Meh."

Kisumi stepped over him and held his hands out. Asahi stared at them for a minute as though mustering up the strength to move, and then he threw his wrists into Kisumi's palms and did all the grunting for them both as Kisumi pulled him up to his feet. He immediately rocked forward and leaned all of his weight into Kisumi's torso, curling his arms around him tightly and tucking his face into the scarf around his neck. His ear brushed against Kisumi's jaw and it felt like a cube of ice sliding over his skin.

"Gods, Asahi," he huffed, cringing with a shiver. He was soaked. "You're freezing."

"Well, yur one hot tamale~" Asahi turned his nose into Kisumi's jaw, and the sharpness of that cold wasn't any better. "'N 'm starving," he whispered, sending an extra chill down Kisumi's spine. The tickle of his breath was contrastingly warm and definitely heavy with the scent of whiskey.

Kisumi ignored the flutter of his heartbeat, because it did that far too often for him to pay it any mind. He remained collected and patted Asahi on the back, more so to silently communicate that he needed to get some kind of balance underneath him so that Kisumi could unlock his knees.

"How much did you have to drink huh?"

"'m not drunk."

"Okay well, why don't we get out of the cold."

Hiccup. "Take me home with you," Asahi moaned, nudging their temples together.

"How about we go to your place."

"No~," Asahi whined, snaking his arms up and cuddling closer, nearly swaying them off balance. Hiccup. "I wanna go home with you. Take care'v me."

"Asahi, you're soaked. You need to change into something dry."

"I'll wear yur clothes," he pouted, pressing his forehead close.

Kisumi already found himself deflating with an amused sigh.

"Orevenbetter, we'll get naked 'n you kin warm me up that way."

Kisumi giggled and kicked him in the ankle, pushing him up to stand on his own. Asahi was wearing a dopey little smirk and he clenched his fingers around the waist of Kisumi's coat, tugging him back so he couldn't get fully away.

Hiccup. "Take care of me," he said again, staring steadily at Kisumi's face with half-lidded eyes that were a bit too heavy on the smolder, though Kisumi was sure Asahi wasn't even aware he was looking at him that way.

Kisumi gave an exaggerated sigh. "You're such a handful." He pinched Asahi's cold cheeks. "You know that? Come on. Walk straight."

He wrapped an arm around Asahi's waist to keep him steady and they started their way out of the park. Asahi's arm draped itself across Kisumi's shoulders, and his eyes continued to stare at the side of his face, wandering over his silhouette, and Kisumi could feel it.

He didn't allow himself to blush, and he didn't acknowledge the look either. But maybe he relished it somewhere deep down, just like he did every other time Asahi called him away from whatever he was doing when he was drunk. He didn't know why he was the go-to. Asahi could've been sitting amidst the entirety of the swim team, and still he would have called Kisumi — and had done so on a few separate occasions.

Kisumi's favorite was the time Asahi had rung him up insisting that Kisumi needed to come "take care of him" when he had gotten plastered at some relative's wedding. Akane and Kon had literally been in the midst of trying to get him in the car to take him home, but he had refused to go anywhere until Kisumi showed up to the venue just to ride in the backseat with Asahi's head in his lap.

"Y'know yur fuckin' beautiful?"

Kisumi smiled, but did not dare to look over at him, and it was especially difficult when Asahi's fingers brushed tenderly through his hair.

"Thank you. How much did you have to drink tonight, Asahi?"

"I dunno. Loss count some point."

Kisumi hummed thoughtfully. "You must have had fun then."

Asahi shrugged and finally looked away from him, though he pressed himself closer and leaned into Kisumi's shoulder, steps uneven. "Meh. I mean yeah, but you weren' there."

Kisumi let half a chuckle fall out of his nose. "Would it have been better if I was there?"

"Of course it've been better. Shit. Kinda question is'at? I'd've told you t'come if you weren' workin'."

"Then Nat would have gotten into trouble for sure."

Asahi snickered. "He's gonna get'n trouble n'matter what. Like litter'ly always. You call Nao?"

Kisumi nodded. "I sent him a text saying his fiancé was wandering loose somewhere in the city. He'd found him already. Seijuro wasn't with him."

Asahi snorted. "Prolly found some girl t'fuck."

"Probably. I'm gonna kick their asses for leaving you alone, if Nao doesn't get to it first."

"He will." Asahi curled up a grin and looked at him again. "But I'd pay t'see that anyway."

"I know you would."


Asahi was still well out of it by the time they got to Kisumi's apartment. He tripped over the genkan step and Kisumi had to catch him from falling into the wall, then he kept both hands steady over Asahi's ribs from behind to make sure he made it to the bathroom, where he plopped into the empty bathtub and dropped his head back with a groan, eyes already closed.

"You said you had to pee," Kisumi informed him, undoing Asahi's coat for him. He pinched the hem of his sleeve and Asahi pulled his arm free.

"Shit," he mumbled. "Forgot."

"Well, the toilet's right there. I'll find you something to wear." He pulled Asahi coat's out from behind his back once he'd gotten the other arm free, and Asahi lifted his shoulders up to help him, but then flopped a hand out to search for Kisumi's wrist before he could step out of the little room. He pulled him closer to the tub.

"Shiggs …"

"Hm?"

He didn't open his eyes, and in fact looked like he was seconds from drifting off to sleep. "Take a bath with me."

Kisumi allowed himself a smile, since Asahi wasn't looking, but gently pried Asahi's grip away and placed his hand in his lap for him. "Maybe later. You need a change of clothes. Go ahead and start taking those off. You're for sure going to be sick tomorrow, you know — on top of your hangover."

"'m not drunk."

"Okay," Kisumi sang, already on the other side of the doorway. He hung up Asahi's coat to dry, and then shuffled around in his closet for something Asahi could wear.

This wasn't the first time he'd had to do so. Though Kisumi was a tad bit taller and Asahi had a thicker build, they were fairly similar in size. Kisumi's shirts tended to fit Asahi a little more snuggly and his pajama pants were slightly too long, but it always worked out just fine. And he knew by now specifically what t-shirt and pair of pants to look for.

Asahi hadn't moved an inch by the time he made it back into the bathroom, and he sighed.

"You gonna make me do this?"

Asahi curled up a grin, still without opening his eyes. "Yus."

Kisumi rolled his eyes. "Come on then. Sit up."

Asahi obeyed, though it was slow going, and seemed to take him effort. He did toss his hands up over his head, and Kisumi peeled his shirt off for him, rather unaffected by Asahi's body at this point, simply because he'd had to force himself to be by now. He just didn't linger on it. And if his heart still gave a tiny flutter of nervous excitement when Asahi's wet jeans and boxers got tossed to the floor, then Asahi wouldn't know about it. The pajama pants were successfully pulled up over his waist soon enough anyway, and then Kisumi let Asahi anchor all of his weight on him again as he pulled him out of the tub.

He collected Asahi's wet clothes off of the floor, and by the time he got them going in the wash, Asahi had finally peed and used the extra toothbrush Kisumi kept in his cabinet.

He flopped himself onto Kisumi's bed like he lived there, and Kisumi could feel his eyes watching him as he changed his own clothes and ruffled out his damp hair. He did not acknowledge it, but once again the smolder was far too heavy, and he could feel it touching him like a warm temptation.

"Shiggs."

"Hm?"

"I ever tell you yur like the best ever?"

Kisumi hummed a passive sigh, and picked lint off of his sleeves. "I'm sure you've said something like that before, yeah."

"Well 'm sayin' it again."

"I appreciate it, Asahi."

"'m serious. You always show up t'save my ass no matter what. Like I kin count on you for anythin', y'know?"

Kisumi didn't make a big deal of it. Asahi was a very sweet talker when he had alcohol in his system, and it made Kisumi far too giddy for his own good.

"Well, I couldn't let you lay out in the snow like that all night, could I?"

"S'what I mean though," Asahi said, eyes still following him as Kisumi put his stuff away. "Like 'magine if I called Ikuya or somethin'. Think that motherfucker woulda come t'get me? No."

Kisumi giggled and crossed over to the bed to sit on the edge and plug in his phone. "You don't know that. Ikuya loves you."

Asahi slid in close and wrapped a strong arm around his waist, head tilted on the corner of the pillow as he stared up at him. "Not like you do."

Kisumi willed his cheeks not to burn red, but he was sure it wasn't going so well. Asahi most likely wasn't picking up on it, those eyes were relentless, and Kisumi's stomach was turning at this point. It didn't get any better when Asahi's fingers brushed up under the hem of his shirt and started skating in light circles around his waistline.

"You shouldn't look at me like that," he said quietly, finally meeting his gaze.

Asahi didn't bat an eye. "Why not?"

Kisumi didn't bite at his lip, but he wanted to. "Because it makes my heart flutter."

The look only intensified, and Asahi sat up abruptly, leaning in so close that their bangs tangled together and Kisumi's pulse climbed up to the base of his throat. Asahi's fingers gripped his waist firmly and he stared blatantly down at his lips.

"You make my heart flutter," he said, voice low.

"You're drunk."

"That'as nothin' t'do with it."

"It does. You don't flirt like this when you're sober."

The corner of Asahi's lips twitched just the barest bit. "Well thass gotta change."

"Will it?"

He grinned. "You think I won't 'member?"

"You haven't been known to."

"How many times've we had this conversation?"

"At least four."

Asahi's smile curled up and he pressed against Kisumi's forehead with his own. "You're fuckin' lyin'."

Kisumi snickered and so did Asahi.

"Fine," Kisumi huffed. "Maybe not this exact conversation, but variations of it. You're really sweet when you're drunk, Asahi. I think you're starting to form a bad habit."

"'m I?"

"Yeah."

"S'rry," he mumbled, sliding his eyes close and nudging at Kisumi's cheek with his nose. He wrapped both arms around his waist, and ran a whole hand up his spine this time, fingers still cold, though the shiver it caused was tragically delicious, and Kisumi had to force his own eyes to stay open.

His jaw fluttered, breath straining as Asahi dipped his head, nudging lower, and his lips just barely brushed his neck.

"I'll git better, I promise," he moaned.

Kisumi attempted a swallow, and patted the top of Asahi's arm. "Maybe just don't let Natsuya and Seijuro influence you so much, yeah?"

"'kay," he breathed, now intentionally sliding ghostly lip touches down Kisumi's neck and then back up again. His fingers flexed into his back. "Yur so warm."

"I wasn't laying in the snow."

"You smell like a candy store."

"Do I?"

"Mmm … 'm so hungry, Shiggs," this he whined far more seductively than he probably meant to, directly into Kisumi's ear, and the excited cringe was involuntary. "Need somethin' sweet," Asahi breathed, choosing to nip lightly at his earlobe with his teeth.

Kisumi again refrained from biting his lip, but it was harder now not to let his eyes briefly drift close. His hand squeezed Asahi's arm in a frail attempt to ground them both back in reality, and he allowed himself a heavy sigh.

"I'm not edible, Asahi. And you're drunk."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Kisumi responded, and it came out as a light laugh, but he wasn't sure what percentage of that was fondness for Asahi's tone or just straight up nervous giggles. He pushed Asahi back gently, even though everything in him whined about it. "On both accounts," he said. "Why don't you try going to sleep, huh?"

Asahi scoffed dramatically, eyes sleepily rolling to the side as he flopped back onto the pillows pouting. "How d'you s'pect me to sleep, when yur sitting here?"

"By closing your eyes," Kisumi quipped, fluffing his pillow for him and brushing a hand lightly down his face to get him to do just that. He blinked very slowly, but those magenta eyes insisted on staring up at him still after peeling back open. Kisumi pulled the blanket up over him to distract himself.

"'m not drunk, I promise."

"So you've said."

"Jus' lay down with me fur a minute."

Kisumi pursed his lips at him, but the moment that Asahi cheesed an innocent smile with all of his teeth, he knew the will to resist would never make a reappearance. But of course Asahi also had to coo a "Pleeease" with his bottom lip poking out, and Kisumi just rolled his eyes, turning his head away to hide his smile as much as possible.

"Fine," he sighed. "I guess I'll let you hog up the rest of my night then. It's not like I had things to do." He turned the light off and flopped down next to Asahi as he said so, like it was a major drag for him.

It wasn't, and Asahi knew that. And he knew that Asahi knew that simply by the way that he suctioned himself to him with no remorse, curling his arm around his torso, tangling their legs, digging his chin into Kisumi's shoulder and nudging his jaw with his nose again.

Kisumi sighed again. It still wasn't helping. "I wish you could see yourself when you're like this. Should I start recording you?"

"Do wutever you want," Asahi mumbled over his own sigh.

"You say that, but once you watch the playback you'll be begging me burn the evidence. 'Shiina Asahi doesn't cuddle!'" he exclaimed, mocking how he knew sober Asahi would react.

"But yur so soft." Asahi's voice was dragging now, as though sleep was oh so tenderly leading him away by the hand and he was fighting it.

So Kisumi allowed the smile in full this time, and actually turned his head to the side to get a look at Asahi's face in the shadows. His eyes were fully closed now. Kisumi couldn't see much more than that, but he'd memorized the flush of Asahi's cheeks before the lights went out and superimposing that image onto him now made his lips curl up even more. He brushed a hand through Asahi's spikey hair, aware of the way he so bonelessly deflated against him.

The room settled quietly for a long moment, and Kisumi just let it be, not at all upset that his night of getting things done had been derailed and his best friend was hogging up his bed space. He'd never been upset — and never would be upset. It was just the kind of pathetic territory that came with being in love with Asahi and being too stubborn to say it.

Theirs was a sad story truly. One in which Kisumi had loved Asahi for nine years, and should have had no problem telling him so by now — especially seeing as the past three of those years had been spent reunited, living in the same city, attending the same school, hanging around the same friends, as opposed to calling each other from different prefectures hundreds of kilometers away. But Kisumi was unyielding about wanting Asahi to say something first, and Asahi was … a little hard to work with in that regard, because he never acted this sweetly when he wasn't under the influence, so Kisumi allowed it to make him doubt.

Their friends were tired of it. Particularly Rin, who had once promised, "If that dick-brain isn't in love with you, I will get a tattoo of Sousuke's face on my ass."

To which Sousuke had bothered to pay attention, and calmly replied, "I don't want to look at that when I'm fucking you from behind."

Rin had smirked. "Fine. Haru's face then."

Sousuke looked away from him and gave him a vengeful pinch under the table, Kisumi guessed on his thigh, judging by the way Rin flinched with both a hiss and a barely concealed moan.

Kisumi had tapped his bottom lip with his chopsticks, eyeing them steadily, and said, "We're in public."

Neither of them acknowledged that, but Sousuke did contribute, "Also, he's right. Asahi is in love with you. He's just stupid."

It just didn't help him in moments like this really. Because it felt true, with the way Asahi clung to him, and breathed on his neck, and fell asleep so soundly, like there was no place more comfortable and safe in the world than wherever Kisumi was. But in the morning, when he inevitably got to teasing Asahi about it, his best friend would start blushing furiously, and scoff at him and cross his arms and grumble about having no idea what Kisumi was talking about. And Kisumi took it in stride. He wasn't offended. Asahi just lacked perception and was not the most confident person in the world when he was in a "rational" state of mind — as much as he pretended to be.

So they were just a bit stuck, because Kisumi was no less in love with him, and he probably never would be.

He sighed again, just relishing the texture of Asahi's hair slipping through his fingers for now, soaking in the warmth of him while it was there. He looked at him again and dared to stroke the relaxed lines of his face, tracing his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose with his thumb.

Cutie, he thought, smiling fondly again, even though part of it squeezed at the muscle in his chest.

He took the liberty of kissing Asahi's forehead, and he stirred, hand brushing across Kisumi's stomach as he stretched his limbs, head tilting back with invitation, though he never opened his eyes and his expression remained smooth.

Kisumi shook his head to himself. "Stop fighting it," he said quietly, still allowing his fingers to brush over his skin.

Asahi moaned a hum.

"You're halfway there already. You might as well."

"Gimme another kiss 'n I'll think about it."

With as much as his heartbeat quivered, it was easy to oblige. He placed another small peck willingly on Asahi's cheek, because why not. Asahi nuzzled into it, and Kisumi giggled, then whispered, "Stubborn."

He was all well and ready for Asahi to give in obediently and go to sleep, but what happened instead was that he tilted his head enough for their lips to brush by each other in the dark, and before Kisumi could even begin to peg it as an accident, Asahi's lips snatched his up like a Venus flytrap closing on its prey, and Kisumi's heart hit his throat like a bell.

He didn't pull away. Especially not when Asahi's tongue swept through his mouth to draw him closer. It worked perfectly and they were already well into the kissing, before he had a single thought about it. But when he did, it wasn't coherent — mostly just something like Shit. And then he was distracted, because Asahi's fingers curled around the waist of his shirt and he was only mildly aware that his own hand slipped around Asahi's neck while his thumb drew a line up his jaw. He was hardly even cognizant of how into it he himself was, because the taste and eagerness of Asahi was so numbingly captivating. He couldn't breathe, but that somehow wasn't that big of an issue.

One of them hummed a feather-light moan, but he couldn't tell who, and it didn't much matter. Asahi used the grip he had on his shirt to pull him closer, silently convincing him to roll on his side, and as he did so, Asahi took the opportunity to further slot their legs together, nudging his thigh up between Kisumi's so boldly that Kisumi knew he was the one that gasped a moan that time.

Asahi pressed closer. His teeth bit at Kisumi's bottom lip. His fingers danced underneath Kisumi's shirt, coolly gripping his waist to pull his hips in and introduce Kisumi to the very present bulge in his borrowed pajama pants. A sigh steamed out of Asahi's nose and he dipped down to hungrily devour Kisumi's neck with wet, suckling kisses and scraping teeth.

It was only then that Kisumi gnawed on his own lip and started to wonder if he should be rational and abruptly cut this off. It wasn't like he wanted to, and clearly Asahi didn't want him to either, but he should, shouldn't he? He'd put so much effort into preventing this very same thing from happening before, but it hadn't been so difficult all the other times. That was to say, Asahi usually just went to sleep without much prompting. But he was apparently quite adamant about not doing that tonight, and Kisumi suddenly didn't have the heart to get in his way, and suddenly couldn't find a reason for it. And when Asahi whined a needy, "Kisumi" into his neck, he just simply knew there was nothing to be done about it.


Asahi was sweating bullets at the crack of dawn. His skin was a searing heat on Kisumi's neck and the rest of him turned the dense space under the sheets into a radiator. But he was trembling from his core and clinging to Kisumi like he was freezing, and that's what woke him up.

He sighed long through his nose, brushing a hand through Asahi's wet hair. It was so uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to pry his body away from it. The duvet was bunched down by their feet and he pulled it up over them, tucking it close to Asahi's neck and cocooning them in yet more heat.

A small, helpless whimper escaped Asahi's throat. Kisumi passed a comforting hand across his back. His skin was entirely wet.

"Shiggs," he whined groggily, his voice hoarse, and this was followed by a wrack of wet coughs that he had to stuff into the edge of the blanket.

"I know," Kisumi said in response.

"Feel fuckin' awful."

"Try to go back to sleep. I'll make you some tea."

"Don't leave," Asahi moaned, curling tighter around him, his limbs vibrating.

"You need to get some fluids in your system. You're probably dehydrated as hell."

"Five minutes," Asahi mumbled, after another coughing fit. He turned his nose back into Kisumi's neck, and Kisumi sighed.

He fell back asleep within two minutes, and Kisumi carefully wormed his way out of his clutches, gasping for air like he'd just broken the surface of the ocean once he was out of the heat bubble. He took a quick cold shower while the kettle was going on the hot plate, and once he was dry and the tea was steeping, he made some soup for the both of them, though he knew Asahi would refuse to eat his. He leaned back to glance around the corner every time he heard Asahi hacking up coughs, but he didn't seem to have enough strength in him to fully wake up, so he remained miserably plastered to the bed, buried under the duvet, only a tuft of spikey red hair poking out.

Kisumi quietly thanked the gods that it was Saturday, and mentally prepared himself to be waiting on Asahi for the next few days, already shifting things around in his schedule for Monday, though he didn't mind at all.

His focus glazed over as he stared down at the broth in the pot, hand absently and unnecessarily stirring it slowly as his train of thought easily drifted away and the night before inevitably overshadowed everything. He got lost in it for a moment, cheeks blushing quietly and everything. It was simultaneously the most pleasant belly feeling, and the most uncomfortable, the most warmly heartbreaking. He already knew he wouldn't be saying anything about it, but he couldn't help begging every divine being imaginable to bring it into the daylight.

He brushed a hand up the back of his neck and set the spoon to the side, covering the pot to keep its contents warm as he left the kitchenette to bring Asahi his tea first.

He sat on the edge of the bed. "Asahi. Here, you need to drink this."

Asahi moaned, voice muffled by the duvet. He didn't move.

Kisumi reached up and peeled the blanket away from his face. Asahi grimaced against the pale morning light, bangs glued to his forehead. His skin was glistening. He could barely open his eyes past a crack.

"'m dying."

"It's just a fever," Kisumi informed him calmly, digging a hand underneath him to help him prop himself up. He handed the tea over. "It's lemon and ginger. It should settle your stomach."

Asahi's lips quirked up in the corner as he bowed his head to take a small sip. "How'd you know?"

Kisumi admired him softly. He looked a right mess, but he was dreadfully handsome with rosy cheeks. "You always wake up nauseous after a night out. I'm out of Tylenol, but I'll run down to the convenience store to get you some more after you eat something. It should help your fever break and take care of your headache."

Asahi huffed out an amused breath, bright eyes still heavy, but roaming over Kisumi's face as he leaned all of his weight back and let his head fall against the wall. "You know everything."

"I do. Can you finish that?" He nodded to the mug in Asahi's hands and he cooperatively took another sip with a compliant "Mm."

Kisumi stood, satisfied with that, and went to fix a couple bowls of soup. He brought them back to the bedside and sat Asahi's on the corner of the nightstand, watching him work slowly on his tea while he sipped from his own bowl. He brushed a consoling hand up and down Asahi's thigh whenever he turned his face away to stuff more coughs into his elbow, and he gave his knee an extra squeeze when Asahi groaned wretchedly and dropped his head back again, eyes sliding close.

Kisumi took the mug from his loose fingers and set it down. "Eat a little bit, Asahi."

Asahi moaned through his nose and didn't move, Adam's apple bobbing as he strained to swallow and coughed in his throat. Kisumi finished off his soup quickly and set the bowl to the side, then picked up Asahi's and held it up under his chin, nudging his lip with a spoonful.

"Don't be stubborn."

Asahi opened his mouth and let Kisumi feed him, refusing to respond when Kisumi shook his head to himself and sighed, "Such a handful."

They sat like that for a silent few minutes, and Kisumi let it scratch some domestic itch for him without acknowledging it, which was a habit. Asahi was a very needy creature when he was incapacitated in any way, and Kisumi was much too willing to take care of him. It should have been exhausting, some level of embarrassing even, but it wasn't.

Asahi swallowed another spoonful of soup and then took Kisumi's wrist and pushed it away before he could feed him another.

"You done?" He'd only gotten through half the bowl, but Kisumi deemed it progress enough and so set the bowl back to the side when Asahi nodded.

His eyes were still closed, and he blindly reached out with flexing fingers and a mumble of, "Come closer."

Kisumi obliged easily, and didn't let the excitement infect his heartbeat too drastically. Asahi maybe wasn't drunk anymore, but a fever-induced delirium wasn't all that different.

Asahi's fingers found the waist of his shirt and clutched it in a desperate grip as he pulled himself forward and dropped his nose onto Kisumi's shoulder, then snaked his arms sleepily around him and exhaled. Kisumi rubbed circles onto his bare back, trying not to shiver about it. Nothing was said for a good long while, and he didn't mind that, just let it convince his eyes to close peacefully while they sat there. He was tempted to place a kiss on Asahi's burning cheek, but he didn't, and he wouldn't.

"You take such good care of me," Asahi mumbled into his shoulder.

Kisumi hummed, allowing his fingers to trace the line of his shoulders. "Someone has to I guess. You'd be hopeless on your own."

"I know," Asahi groaned. "'m sorry I'm such a burden."

Kisumi chuckled softly. "You're not, Asahi. I don't mind it. I needed a distraction from my homework anyway."

"I can help you study."

It was a giggle this time, because that was funny. Asahi was no help to anyone as a study partner and they both knew that, but the sentiment was sweet enough. "Don't worry about it, honey," he said, petting the back of his hair. "Just get some rest, okay? You can stay here until you're better."

Asahi moaned and turned his lips against Kisumi's skin. "I hope I never get better."

Kisumi's skin crawled in the best way, pulse skipping beats it shouldn't have. "At some point, you'll be miserable enough to regret saying that."

"Mm mm," Asahi denied, squeezing him. "I'll take anything if I get to stay with you."

Kisumi hiccuped a breathless laugh, then gave him an insistent pat. "Take a nap. I'm gonna go to the store."

"I don't want you to leave me," Asahi moaned, even as he cooperatively lay back on the pillows per Kisumi's guiding touch. His damp fingers dragged down the length of Kisumi's arm.

"I won't be gone for long. If you sleep, it'll only be a few seconds."

Asahi coughed, eyes already closed again, shoulders sinking. He didn't say anything to that, and Kisumi allowed his fingers to brush fondly through his fringe, clearing some of the sweat from his brow before he got up from the bed.

He was only gone for an hour, and Asahi was right back to being miserably buried beneath the duvet when he got back. The sniffles had settled in within that time, and Asahi could no longer breathe through his nose, which had him whining in complaint more frequently. He accepted the medicine Kisumi gave him and reluctantly agreed to a lukewarm bath, even though he lamented about it loud enough for Kisumi to hear him through the open door, back in the bedroom, where he was changing the sheets and had pulled out another change of clothes for Asahi to wear.

Kisumi put another mug of tea steeping before he went to go pull him from the water, and forced him to drink it all and eat the rest of his soup before he allowed him to lay down again. He tucked him in snuggly, but Asahi ended up breaking free only a few minutes later, curling himself around Kisumi's waist while Kisumi spent the time buying a new power adapter for his laptop and hand-writing out several different thesis options for his paper.

He was getting somewhere with it, but he was highly distracted, both by Asahi's body heat and the resurfacing phantom touches of his kissing lips, sitting in a tingle around the curves of his mouth — and the whole rest of his body — as he thought about it, absently reaching down to stroke a hand through Asahi's hair.

He lost complete focus after only minutes of sliding down the rabbit hole of reminiscing. He was surprised at himself, that he had somehow managed to memorize the pattern of Asahi's touch when he surely had been in a haze of blissful feeling last night — just a breathless and pathetically desperate feral body gratefully and greedily absorbing everything that Asahi had had to give him, like he was a dehydrated plant, which wasn't far from the truth. It wasn't like he didn't occasionally go out to find gratification in other human beings, but finding that in Asahi was an entirely different story and all of his nerve endings could agree on that.

He wanted to be upset that the long-awaited moment had happened while Asahi was inebriated, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. It had probably been the most sincere side of Asahi in that moment anyway, and Kisumi would accept that — gratefully — and then just sit and wonder if there even could be a way to broach the subject … because Asahi hadn't even noticed that he'd woken up naked.

"Shiggs."

Kisumi blinked himself present, and looked down into his lap. His fingers were still stroking through Asahi's hair.

"Hm?"

"You got any Gatorade?" Asahi croaked into his stomach.

Kisumi turned up a soft smile and lightly patted his head. "Yeah. I'll grab it for you."

"Did you get the blue kind?" he mumbled, rolling off of him.

"Of course I did," Kisumi assured him, already up on his feet.

He heard Asahi hiss a quiet victory right before he rolled into another fit of coughs and shouted a groaning, "Fuuuck! This is ass!"

Kisumi kept both his amusement and his disappointment quiet and threw together a sandwich for Asahi to munch on while he was in the kitchenette.

This was the gist of it for the remainder of the day. Asahi slept seventy percent of the time away, but was constantly interrupted by coughing fits that made him steadily more miserable and aggravated. He clung to Kisumi every moment that he was sitting on the bed with him, and Kisumi got lost in daydreaming and lackluster problem-solving, though he grew more weighed down by the grief of forever being stuck like this, right on the teetering edge of happy without fully tipping over into it, because he was waiting for a definitive cue that the night would never be addressed.


He sat there on Sunday afternoon, dreading having to go to class the next day, trying to plan out what to make for dinner that could then carry over for lunch for Asahi on Monday, since he wasn't going to be going anywhere. He'd have to make another run to the store, and Asahi really needed at least some of his own clothes, because he was sweating through the few options that Kisumi had for him. Also, the trash needed to be taken out because it would start spilling over with used tissues any minute now, and he needed to remember to grab some vapor rub to at least give Asahi a chance at breathing — also another pack of throat lozenges, because he'd been eating through them like candy.

"I said I would start flirting with you while I'm sober."

Kisumi blinked to himself, once again, and looked down to Asahi whose forehead was pressed against his hip this time, eyes closed. He had one arm thrown over his lap and his fingers sleepily played with the hem of his shirt.

His words had been spoken in a very groggy mumble.

Kisumi was very nearly willing to assume he was just talking in his sleep, but Asahi cracked his eyes open, and it was simply amazing how bright the color of his irises were through the visor of his eyelashes, even though they were fogged over with the misery of a sinus infection. He turned his gaze up at Kisumi and his fingers weakly pinched his waist.

"I dunno if I'll be any good at it, but I can try." He blinked slowly, thought for a minute, then said, "So … Come here often?"

Kisumi cracked a smile, snicker bursting through his nose.

Asahi groaned. "Aww see? I suck."

Kisumi shook his head and patted his elbow. "No, that was a decent start. It's just … I mean, I live here."

"Shit dicks, man," Asahi moaned, rolling onto his back with a cough.

Kisumi giggled. "You don't have to flirt with me, Asahi."

"I want to," Asahi said, swinging his gaze back over, and it was surprisingly firm with conviction. "I said I would. It's just …" His cheeks colored with a blush and his eyes were suddenly a little more open. But he flopped onto his stomach to hide and groaned into the pillow, pulling it close to his face as the blush spread down his neck like a fog.

Kisumi didn't interrupt him, nor did he mention anything about how his heart was pounding.

"You're so pretty," Asahi's muffled voice said. "You've been my best friend for like ever, but talking to you like this still makes me nervous … I feel stupid."

The tingle of blood started to warm up Kisumi's cheeks too, and he didn't realize he was staring unblinkingly at the back of Asahi's hair. The words filled his chest with an overwhelming balminess that made breathing regularly difficult, and yet somehow it was a good feeling.

He set the notepad he'd been scribbling on to the side and dared to turn fully in Asahi's direction. His hand started to reach toward him, hesitated, nearly drawing back, and then gently settled on his back and stroked calming energy into his spine.

"Don't feel stupid, Asahi." He rolled his lip between his teeth for a tentative moment then added, "It makes me nervous too."

Asahi yanked his face to the side and shot a peering glare at him, barely able to hold back another cough.

Kisumi laughed purely for the look. "What?"

"What do you have to be nervous about?" Asahi questioned through pinched lips.

Kisumi raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how could someone as graceful and put-together as you ever be nervous about anything?"

Kisumi scoffed. "Just because I seem like I have my shit together, doesn't mean I'm confident about everything. I told you, you make my heart flutter. I wasn't being facetious."

Asahi's expression tightened, the tops of his cheeks somehow burning brighter, and Kisumi could see the familiar shards of anxiety eating him up, taking over his pulse while he tried to think of what to say next. He ended up sitting up fully before he did, hair flattened on one side and sticking up at all ends on the other. His eyes glanced toward the bed for help, and Kisumi could see the motion of him rolling the inside of his lip through his teeth.

"Then …" he started slowly. "The other night was … It wasn't just … um …"

His hand rubbed at the back of his neck and then pulled up through his hair, and he looked literally everywhere that was not Kisumi.

Kisumi still gave nothing away about how he couldn't catch a breath right now, about how his pulse had found its way into his ears, about how the tingle of red hadn't receded even a little bit from his own cheeks. He debated saying something, because this was it — the subject was being broached, and he was as equally horrified as he was surprised as he was nauseously relieved. He ended up quiet long enough for Asahi to attempt starting over.

"'m sorry," he mumbled toward the bed.

Kisumi pulled in a slow, steady breath. "For what?"

Asahi's eyes darted up and away again in half a second. His fingers were still pulling through the back of his hair. "I shouldn't have- … I mean …" He muffled another cough. "I know I have a habit of only coming onto you when I'm completely fucked up, and it's pathetic. It's bad, you're right. And I wanna stop. I don't know why you … I mean …" He buried his face in his hands with a grieving exhale and moaned, "Why would you let me do that to you?"

Kisumi frowned. "You didn't do anything to me, Asahi. Of the two of us, I was the one who was completely cognizant of what was going on. I wanted it to happen."

He worked hard not to allow his voice to betray him with a tremble, and he very nearly didn't make it. But he stayed as firm in that conviction as he could when Asahi nervously peeked through his fingers. Kisumi did allow his head to tilt to the side.

"I mean, I wish it could have happened while you were sober." He shrugged. "But … It's not like I regret it — and I don't resent you for it either. To be honest …" He hated that his eyes dropped away, to his fidgeting fingers no less, but the most he could do about it was finish his thought. "I'm surprised we're actually talking about it right now."

He felt the mattress dip and settle as Asahi shifted, deciding to sit with his legs crossed. He stuffed another coughing fit into his shirt, and Kisumi took advantage of that to allow the smallest of secret smiles when Asahi hissed a complaint about the inconvenience of being sick right now — though he didn't put it that nicely.

"That's my fault," he said, once he'd cleared his throat enough.

Kisumi looked back up. "What is?"

Asahi's eyes were round, looking back at him. He shouldn't have been so adorable, but he was. "That you thought I wouldn't say anything."

"Well, you haven't been known to."

"I know, but that's the point, and this is … entirely different, Shiggs … I mean, we fucked."

Kisumi willed the smile away. Now was not the moment to be giddy about it. But Asahi's bluntness in saying so did leave goosebumps on his arms. It was hard not to tiptoe into the realm of teasing. "So in the end, that's all it took for you to start acknowledging any of this?"

Asahi scrunched up his nose, and kicked him in the knee. "Shithead." (Kisumi giggled.) "I am trying to apologize."

"I get that," Kisumi said. He brushed his hand back through his hair, and definitely noticed Asahi's eyes following the motion. "And I appreciate it. I don't know how necessary it is though."

Asahi huffed out an irritated breath after coughing again. "Of course it's necessary," he grumbled. "It should have happened while I was sober. I just never had the balls to …" His skin brightened again. "Ask you about it like this," he finished in a mumble.

Kisumi did smile this time, softly. He let Asahi continue without adding any input.

"I mean, I know I act cocky, but I'm always scared as shit. When I'm out of it, I just don't seem to care as much. But I always know that you're way too good for me, and it isn't fair that you have to deal with me while I'm like that. I feel like … a burden, for real."

Kisumi sighed, much heavier than he realized he needed to, but it lifted some kind of weight off of his chest and he leaned forward to place a kiss on Asahi's temple. His lips stayed hovering there, close to his ear, and he whispered, "You will never be a burden to me, Asahi."

Asahi's entire face was burning red when he pulled away. He sat there with wide eyes, staring into space, glazed over with some kind of wonder and disbelief, but he looked back at Kisumi, who smiled again — reassuringly — and then he pulled Kisumi into a kiss with a hand cupped to the back of his neck.

Kisumi breathed an airless laugh through his nose that turned into a sigh, and he adjusted, kissing him back and planting a hand on his chest where his fingers curled into the damp fabric of his shirt. It was somehow far more fulfilling than the whole of the other night. Just as wet, and heavy, and hot, but now with an understanding that they both cognizantly meant it, and the relief shivered Kisumi to the core. It should have been this simple a long time ago, but he couldn't bring himself to be mad about it now. He was just happy, and positively breathless.

He chuckled. "You're going to get me sick," he mumbled, still participating even as he said so.

"Oh shit," Asahi exclaimed. "Sorry. Is that okay?"

Kisumi full out laughed. It shouldn't have been okay, but they continued kissing anyway. "It's fine. I don't really mind. Just take care of me if I do."

Asahi moaned, shoulders sagging and then drawing back up as he cupped his hands delicately around Kisumi's face and leaned in closer. "Of course I will."