Setting: Post-Game
PoV: Sho
Sho returns to an empty apartment one particularly cold winter night.
He thinks it's empty because it's not uncommon for Toya to disappear for days on end, leaving only a brief text message behind. He knows of Toya's erratic, complex schedule, the commitment it demands of him that leaves little room for them, and so he understands. The silence of the empty apartment is something Sho is accustomed to now, with nothing but shadows for company.
So he doesn't bother turning on the lights or calling out a greeting, and simply drops his things unceremoniously onto the floor. He walks around in the dark for a while, stripping off his layers and tossing them aside for later, and it is only when he thinks of getting something to eat that he notices the moonlight streaming in from the balcony.
He remembers drawing the curtains shut before leaving that morning, and when he steps closer for a better look he notices the silhouette of a man standing at the balcony. The figure is so still that it takes a moment for Sho to realize he is real and not simply an ethereal image painted by the moonlight. He recognizes the clothes, the pale, sand-coloured hair, the aura of composure and grace; and for the first time in a while, it truly feels like he has come home.
The cold air hits him like a brick wall as he pulls the glass partition open, and he regrets shedding his layers so quickly. Toya doesn't turn around, but his presence is acknowledged with a slight movement of his head.
"Welcome back," Toya says, and it has been a week since Sho has heard his voice but he can still hear the difference. His tone is quieter, devoid of feeling; Sho has been with him long enough to know that Toya has done something he is not proud of, something he will be ashamed of for a long time, and as a result has emptied himself of emotion in order to numb himself to the pain.
Ah. So Toya had a difficult week. It is times like this that Sho remembers what Toya used to be before they started dating, how hollow and empty Toya can feel like.
It makes sense now why he is standing out here, wearing just his indoor clothes and without any lights on in the house. The air is freezing and logic dictates that Sho should fetch a blanket for the both of them, but he doesn't feel like leaving Toya's side. Instead, he looks up at the sky too.
"Do you like looking at stars?" Sho asks, and Toya laughs, a short, humourless tone that leaves a puff of white smoke in the cold air.
"Yes, but perhaps not for the reasons you think." He directs his attention back up, and it is a while before he continues. "All we see of stars is what's left of their light."
It's a cynical observation wrapped in a riddle of words, and Sho can't help but think how very much like him it is. With Toya's words echoing in his mind, the stars seem lonely. Desolate. There's a kindred look in Toya's eyes as he gazes at the sky, and Sho wonders how many nights he has spent alone with the remains of stars for company.
There is nothing he can say to help Toya, nothing to ease the burden of what he has done. The only thing he can do is to distract him from the light of the stars, and so he curls his arms around Toya's waist. The chill of his body is startling, but the fact that Toya doesn't seem to notice the cold is even more so.
"You feel like ice," Sho says, and the note of concern in his voice brings Toya back to him. An arm wraps around his back, and it feels just as cold as the rest of Toya's body.
"Perhaps it's because you're so warm." Toya tilts his face down to smile at him, and Sho is a little relieved, because Toya cannot be cold and empty when his voice is so full of warmth and affection.
Their faces are just the right distance, and so he presses a kiss against his lover's mouth. The difference in their temperatures makes him shiver, a reaction that doesn't go unnoticed, and he feels Toya attempt to pull back. He digs his fingers into Toya's shirt to stop him, and after a moment's hesitation he is wrapped in cold arms, held against a cold body. Their mouths are the only heated spot between them, and it feels as if Sho's warmth is being drained away from every place he is touched, leaving nothing behind but chilled skin.
"You're shivering." When they part there's a hidden apology in Toya's whispered breath, like as if he has taken something he shouldn't have, something that he doesn't deserve. Absurd really, because body heat is very little to ask for; and yet Sho understands that Toya means something much more. Somehow they can't seem to help worrying about each other, and in that respect they are very much alike.
"A small price to pay for warming you." It's a corny thing to say, but he hasn't seen Toya in a long time and he misses him, so he doesn't care. A small, surprised laugh escapes the other man, and Sho smiles in turn. "Please tell me you'll come inside. There's only so much I can do to get you warm."
The attempt at breaking Toya away from the stars works, and for now the hollow loneliness in his eyes is replaced with Sho's reflection. Toya steps away from the railing and follows him into the welcomed warmth of their apartment, and he does not try to touch Sho but he is moving closer than usual, and Sho notices.
There's better reassurance for his presence than proximity, and so he reaches behind to grasp Toya's fingers. They feel frozen, but he only tightens his grip to stop Toya from slipping away.
No matter how little warmth he has left he's always willing to share—and perhaps in time Toya will learn that too.