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Ash woke gasping, tearing off the sheets that were tangled around his limbs, restricting him. He sat for a moment, breathing heavily, the cold sweat making his shirt stick to his back, willing the wild thrumming of his heart to quiet. It’s fine, it was just another nightmare, at least for now there were no enemies to fight, no reason to reach for the gun on the nightstand table. As if to prove it to himself, almost timidly, Ash looks over to the bed next to his, and sure enough he sees Eiji’s sleeping form.
He’s turned away from him, shoulders rising and falling gently in sleep, his arms tucked close to his chest and the blankets pooled around his waist. He stares for a moment- at Eiji’s broad back, the way his shirt is bunched up just above his hip, his hair splayed across the pillows, the way the shortest hairs brush against his nape. With each gentle breath Eiji takes, he feels his own thundering heartbeat quiet.
He can at least have this, can’t he? Just looking at him wouldn’t hurt. Selfishly he wishes Eiji would wake; that the sun would rise and Eiji would turn over and tell him “good morning” in his softly accented English. But it’s still the middle of the night, and no matter how much better he would feel if he could see the Japanese boy’s face and hear his voice, it’s better for Eiji to get his rest. Especially with all the chaos he’s been dragged into lately on his account.
But still, the knot of anxiety coils uncomfortably in his stomach. Ash can’t relax. He’s so, so tired but even in these dark hours when he can allow himself rest, his mind is run ragged with old memories and worst-case scenarios and what-ifs. After a long moment, he shuffles quietly out of bed. The floor is cold when his bare feet find the carpeting, and paired with the sweat cooling his skin, he shivers.
Maybe if he could just- be near him for a little bit. If he could just hear him breathe and feel his warmth enough to convince Ash that he was really there, then maybe he would find enough peace to fall asleep. He would retreat back to his own bed before morning, and Eiji would be none the wiser.
Gently, quietly, Ash crawls into the space next to him. The bed dips slightly under his added weight, but the springs barely make any sound when they creak. When Ash is lying fully on his side on the bed, about an arm’s length from Eiji’s slumbering form, he holds his breath and slowly inches closer.
He’s hyperaware of every small jostle of the sheets and the quiet sound of the fabric brushing under him as he moves, but he takes his time and shuffles just close enough to Eiji’s back until he can feel the ghost of his sleep-warm heat against his forehead and cheeks. And when Ash tucks his arms close to his chest in the same way the Japanese boy is, he can feel the warmth of his body along the back of his knuckles and forearms too. If Ash holds his breath and stays very quiet, he can hear Eiji’s gentle breathing.
This is enough, he thinks. If I can just have this, if I can just be close to him like this, I’ll be okay.
It should be enough. Ash can smell the pleasant scent of the shampoo they share from Eiji’s hair. Up close, he can see the way he twitches slightly in his sleep. It should be enough, but he finds his fingers twitching toward him. Maybe just a little closer; it wouldn’t hurt, right? And timidly, he leans forward just slightly enough to press his forehead against the space between Eiji’s shoulder blades, right under the nape of his neck. At this proximity Ash’s knuckles brush against his shirt. He’s so warm, and Ash lets out a soft breath, almost in relief.
This is enough. Let me just have this.
He’s so preoccupied basking in the other boy’s presence that he realizes too late that his deep rhythmic breathing has stilled. He startles at Eiji’s whispered voice.
“Ash?”
He doesn’t dare move or speak, but Eiji turns over to face him before he can think of an excuse to explain why he’s curled up next to the older boy like a child. Seeing Eiji’s kind and concerned face brings him both relief and pain in equal measure. He should have been more careful. It’s selfish. He knows in the back of his head that he’ll have to part with Eiji eventually-- that it would just hurt him more if he did things like this that brought them closer together. And yet at times it feels as if he’s being wrenched in opposite directions- pushing and pulling, yearning and running away. He’s caught in the middle, and he can’t bring himself to object when Eiji brushes his fingers through his hair, his palm settling a warm weight on the back of his neck and asks,
“Did you have another nightmare?”
It takes a moment for Ash to find his voice. “Yeah.”
He’s staring. He knows he’s staring at the older boy; the way his eyebrows draw together in concern, the way he blinks as his eyes adjust to the darkness. Eiji breathes out through his nose and closes his eyes. Eiji’s hand on the back of his neck presses gently, guiding him close until Ash is tucked against his collarbone, and his other hand fumbles for a moment until he finds Ash’s. Eiji threads their fingers together and pulls their joined hands against his chest.
“It is okay…I will be here with you. Try to sleep now..” he feels him mumble against his hair, and Eiji opens his eyes for a moment to smile warmly at him, squeezing his hand briefly as if to give him strength. Ash has to swallow down his emotions rising in his chest at the gesture. His eyes feel hot, and he blinks rapidly. It would have been enough for him- the bare minimum of comfort he allows himself to take from the older boy, but Eiji always gives him more than he expects. More than he deserves. And he’s too weak to push him away.
As Ash drifts slowly off to sleep, cocooned safely in Eiji’s arms, his gentleness and warmth chasing away the last of the darkness in his thoughts, he makes a wish—a prayer to whoever might be listening.
This is enough. Please just let me have this.