Athrun lifted his head and glanced at Kira with blurry eyes. Kira managed to lift a hand and place it on Athrun's head, trying to be reassuring in the motion. Athrun bent over Kira's stomach and pressed his forehead to hot skin, exhaling shakily. Kira resisted the urge to flinch his stomach away from more heat. Athrun ran his palm along Kira's chest, wiping sweat away.
"How much longer?" Kira asked breathlessly.
"A few more hours," Athrun breathed into Kira's flesh. Kira groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the floor of their ship. Their ship that was dead in the air and on a downward spiral into a yellow star.
"We'll make it," Athrun said sharply, panting. The air was hot and growing steadily more poisonous as they breathed and used up oxygen. "We will make it."
"Athrun, I lo-"
"We'll make it," Athrun cut him off. Kira made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Athrun lifted his head and forced his vision to clear. "I know. Stop talking. Save air. I just want to hold you."