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1
Sweat rolls down Isagi’s forehead as his shirt clings to his skin. His hands are clammy, even though the fan has been on for hours. He reaches over and pulls his phone off the side table. The bright light nearly blinds him, and he squints as he checks the time. 2:33 am, the clock reads.
The moon shines brightly in the sky, while the stars seem to revel in his misery. Isagi sighs, turning off his phone again. The sound of the fan is driving him crazy, and the summer heat is enough to make him melt into a puddle on the floor.
Beside the fan whirring, the only other sound Isagi can hear is his roommate breathing softly. Isagi is convinced Bachira could sleep through a fire if he was tired enough. Isagi would much rather be in a temporary coma than this.
Isagi looks over at his sleeping roommate. Bachira’s bangs are swept across his face, chest rising and falling with every breath. His blanket is somewhere on the floor, and Isagi notices that Bachira is wearing one of his old shirts.
He’s cute. Isagi allows himself to think for a moment. He admires how Bachira is always ready for bed, while he takes thirty minutes to fall asleep. His body is exhausted but his mind refuses to rest.
Bachira stirs beside him, lips parted as he turns onto his side. He’s facing Isagi now, cheek gently pressed against the mattress. Isagi swallows. He knows Bachira isn’t waking up anytime soon, but it feels like the other boy is watching him.
“Handsome,” Bachira whispers, “you’re really handsome.”
Warmth immediately rushes to Isagi’s face. The summer heat has nothing on the blood in his fingertips and cheeks.
Who the hell is Bachira talking about? A thousand ideas run through Isagi’s mind, filling his head faster than he can process.
Bachira’s definitely dreaming—Isagi can see that. But part of him wonders who he’s picturing. Maybe he’s thinking of Rin, their moody, dark-haired neighbor. Maybe he has a crush on Chigiri, their pretty friend with pink hair. They’re part of a good-looking friend group, and Isagi hasn’t considered who he’s up against.
Isagi wishes he had the guts to confess so Bachira could let him down easily. Bachira is sweet. He’d reject Isagi with an apologetic smile, and they’d go back to normal after a few days, but the unrequited feelings would sting like hydrogen peroxide on a fresh wound.
Isagi pulls his blanket up to his chin, then considers throwing it off. Every time he gets warm, the heat is too much and he immediately wants to feel cold air on his skin. He blinks once, then twice. His eyes are used to the deep blue darkness and everything else feels unnatural.
Isagi sometimes gets terrified of the future. It’s hard to stay focused on the present when nothing is certain. Even if Isagi managed to confess, screwing it up would mean he’d be stuck in an apartment with a roommate who thinks he’s a creep.
Isagi runs a sweaty hand through his hair. If he was having trouble sleeping before, he can’t imagine how the rest of the night will go. The stickiness of his skin makes him wince, and he peels his blanket off his feet.
Bachira shifts a little closer, and his lips nearly curl into a smile. It’s strange seeing Bachira like this. He’s usually vibrant and always pretty, but rarely silent. Isagi sighs, closes his eyes, and tries to get at least three hours of sleep. He does not think of what it would feel like to fall asleep with Bachira curled up beside him.
2
In Isagi’s defense, the Godfather is supposed to be one of the best movies of all time. It’s incredible, but so long. Isagi finds himself blinking slowly, trying to keep up with the subtitles on the screen.
Bachira yawns softly, resting his head on Isagi’s shoulder. Isagi freezes. He wonders if they could fall asleep like this, pressed together like two cats. Color flashes across the screen, and Isagi would gasp if he wasn’t so tired. He stares at the clock on the wall. 12:43 am.
“Did he really just die?” Bachira asks. Isagi stares back at the screen, and he nods. Bachira laughs. “Pretty cold to kill your own brother.”
Isagi tries to hide the smile spreading across his lips. “That’s why Michael gave him the kiss of death,” he says. “At least he didn’t do it himself.”
Bachira blinks slowly, and Isagi presses his lips into a thin line. Bachira is so close to him and he’s warm and Isagi is short-circuiting. If Isagi weren’t a coward, he would have confessed already, and he could press a kiss to Bachira’s forehead without the world ending.
Isagi can’t feel his legs, and his eyelids are getting heavy. He doesn’t know why they’re sitting on his bed instead of the couch, but Isagi was helpless once Bachira made the decision.
“I’ll be right back,” Isagi says, voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t be gone for too long,” Bachira mumbles, and Isagi smiles. He slowly lifts the blanket and tiptoes to the bathroom.
Splashing cold water on his face sends his system into shock. Isagi blinks once, then twice, and a third time to remind himself he’s real.
Isagi is still tired when he leaves the bathroom, but he feels a little better than before. Sleeping would be easier than watching a three-hour movie with Bachira so close to him.
When he comes back into the room, Bachira is fast asleep. He’s wearing a hoodie with a dolphin on the front. It’s free and fun and vibrant—just like him.
Isagi feels his fingertips freeze. He walks quietly over to where Bachira is sleeping and pulls the blanket over him. The movie is nearly over, with two men sitting on a boat as another watches from the distance.
Isagi gently moves Bachira’s bangs out of his eyes, and when Bachira stirs, he pulls his hand away like he’s been burned. From here, it almost looks like Bachira is smiling. “You’re warm,” he murmurs. “You’re always warm.”
Isagi swallows thickly, and he feels his face heat up. Bachira’s talking in his sleep again, and Isagi still has no idea who the mystery person is. All of their friends are taken, but Bachira might like someone outside of their group.
Isagi sighs. Whoever the mystery person is, Isagi knows they must have a heart of gold. Whoever Bachira likes will be lucky enough to see him wear his heart on his sleeve. Bachira is so pretty when he laughs. His smile is always bright enough to replace the moon, and his eyes glow gold like the sun.
It feels wrong to see Bachira like this—what if he was trying to keep his crush a secret? Isagi weighs his options and ultimately decides to stop thinking about it.
He settles into the opposite bed—Bachira’s—and turns off the TV. He closes his eyes and turns over. He can’t risk Bachira waking up, getting caught in his gaze.
Isagi goes to bed with a racing heart and a racing mind. There’s a virus spreading throughout his body, and it’s making him lovesick.
3
Their small apartment is full of people Isagi cares about deeply, and some he has never met. Chigiri was in charge of organizing their post-finals celebration, and Isagi was immediately asked if he could host.
He has no issue with having people over, but he knows the clean-up will be tedious. Half of the group is playing an intense game of Uno, the other half is playing beer pong, and Nagi is demolishing Bachira in Mario Kart.
“Looks like you’ll be drawing eight!” Isagi hears Chigiri cackling from the dining room, and he smiles. Karasu begrudgingly picks up his cards while the rest of the group laughs.
“Isagi!” Nanase waves him over, “come join us!”
“In a minute,” Isagi replies. He looks over at the couch, where Hiori has joined Bachira and Nagi for a game of Mario Party. Bachira keeps falling off a platform, and his friends find the whole situation amusing.
Isagi walks over to the couch and stands by the coffee table. Bachira’s sparkly eyes are fixed on the TV, and Isagi gently nudges his arm. “We’re gonna play Uno,” he says, “if you wanna join.”
Bachira looks up at Isagi, smiling softly. Isagi immediately gets caught in his gaze like a bird in the sun. “I’ll be there in ten minutes!” Isagi smiles back at him before walking over to the kitchen table. The game starts and Chigiri deals him in, but he gives Isagi a knowing look when his turn arrives.
Rin ends up winning. He completed his turns so silently that Isagi forgot he was playing. He immediately looks over at the couch, and Isagi catches him staring at Hiori. Isagi fights the urge to laugh, because his own crush on Bachira is getting more obvious by the day.
Isagi refrains from drinking anything other than sparkling cider. It’s like the fear of getting his wisdom teeth removed. What if he says something stupid—like telling Bachira he likes him—only to forget about it the next day?
Hiori gives Rin a thumbs up, and Isagi swears he can see the other boy smile, if ever-so-slightly. Shidou wasn’t happy about being left out, but Isagi would rather keep the peace. It’s nice to see Rin so relaxed.
The party ends with a long goodbye, even though they’ll see other on Monday. Reo thanks Isagi for hosting as he carries Nagi into the hallway. Chigiri ruffles his hair and Kunigami pats him on the back. Otoya, Karasu, and Yukimiya leave next, and Isagi suspects the latter is the designated driver.
Bachira emerges with a personalized goodbye for every guest. Isagi can’t help but smile because he’s so incredibly endeared.
“See you later, Rin-chan!” Bachira beams, and Rin scoffs as Hiori leads him away. Hiori still waves to them, even though he lives next door.
Having Nanase and Bachira in one room is dangerous. Bachira already emits lethal UV rays, and Nanase loves to hug everyone within reach. They squeeze each other so tightly that it must be painful, and Nanase practically skips out of their apartment.
Isagi finally closes the door. Bachira rests his arm on Isagi’s shoulder, surveying the state of their home. The weight of his arm is comfortable and Isagi wishes it could stay this way.
“Ready to start cleaning?” Isagi asks.
Despite the cans on the counter, crumbs on the carpet, and overflowing trash can, Bachira nods quickly. Bachira grabs a bottle of cleaner and a roll of paper towels. “Here comes the cleaning fairy!” He says.
Isagi smiles, picking up a handheld vacuum before following Bachira into the living room. It’s one of these nights when the moon pales in comparison to the city lights. If Isagi stands by the windows, he can see mountains in the distance.
Isagi is not surprised by the amount of crumbs he picks up. They’re practically asking ants to come in through the crack in the front door. Isagi pulls out the larger vacuum when he’s done, and the carpet looks a lot better after twenty minutes.
Meanwhile, Bachira scrubs every surface in the living room and kitchen. The apartment smells a bit like chemicals, and Isagi hopes it doesn’t bother Bachira too much. He comes out of the kitchen with ruffled hair and a silly smile playing on his lips. He’s cute.
“Did you sense something going on between Hiorin and Rin-chan?” Bachira asks, grinning. “I think Rin-chan has a crush,” he practically sings the last sentence, and Isagi laughs.
“I noticed that, too.” Isagi replies. “I kinda thought they were already dating.”
Bachira tosses a can into the recycling bin. “Not yet,” he says, “but I feel like Hiorin is gonna confess first.” He wipes his dusty hands on his pajama pants. “Rin-chan acts tough but he gets super nervous about this stuff.”
So Rin isn’t the one Bachira has a crush on. Isagi had already expected as much, but it’s a relief to see Bachira so invested in their friend’s love life.
Even though Bachira is a little taller than him, Isagi grabs a duster and cleans the shelves. Isagi cleans the top shelf with delicate hands, the way he usually does. Isagi doesn’t keep much on the shelves, save for his favorite books and movies.
Most of their shelf space is dedicated to Bachira’s trinkets. He already had a big collection before they became roommates, but Isagi has seen Bachira pick acorns off the ground, find tiny plastic rings in toy machines, and save bottle caps from every new drink he buys from the convenience store. He’s always been special in that way.
He attaches memories to them, too. “These are from the day we moved in!” He said once, eyes twinkling like shiny plastic diamonds. He was holding the caps from two bottles of pineapple soda—his favorite.
If Isagi were to confess—not that he’s planning on doing so anytime soon—he knows Bachira would appreciate a collection of small things, instead of something expensive. But Bachira would really be happy with anything. He treasures every gift like it’s the best one he’s ever received.
Isagi finishes cleaning the shelves and takes out the trash. When he comes back into the apartment, he hears a yawn coming from the living room. Bachira is changing the trash bag, and Isagi watches him tie the ends into a loose knot.
“Welcome back, Isagi!” Bachira says. His eyes are still sparkly, but he looks exhausted.
Isagi can always tell when Bachira is getting tired. He blinks slowly, like a cat, and he just keeps talking. Isagi loves how Bachira keeps the conversation going. Sometimes he just likes to hear Bachira talk about nothing and everything.
“Get some rest,” He says. Bachira looks up at him, and it takes Isagi all of his composure not to react. There’s a part of him that wants to ruffle Bachira’s hair and kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll take care of things here.”
Even though he’s tired, Bachira smiles widely. “You’re the best, Isagi!” He says. His shoulder brushes against Isagi’s as he walks away, and Isagi nearly holds a hand to his racing heart. He briefly imagines what would have happened if Bachira had kissed him on the cheek. He would have died.
Because most of Isagi’s friends aren’t animals, it only takes him another twenty minutes to clean the apartment. He struggles to keep his eyes open as he brushes his teeth and pulls on a pair of pajamas. He’s very proud of himself after tonight; he could have gone to bed with Bachira, but he would have woken up to their messy apartment.
Isagi gently opens the bedroom door to find Bachira fast asleep. Sometimes he sleeps like a starfish, but this time, he’s holding onto his favorite stuffed dolphin. Isagi smiles so hard his face gets sore.
Isagi crawls into bed and tucks himself in. He’s nearly asleep when he hears rustling coming from the bed beside him.
“I like you,” Bachira whispers, lips slightly parted. At first, Isagi can’t make out what he’s saying, but maybe he doesn’t want to. “Pretty.”
Isagi swallows thickly. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets the moonlight wash over him. For he knows, he’s already asleep and this is all a dream. Unfortunately, Isagi rolls over to stretch his legs and Bachira is still facing him. Isagi blinks once, then twice, as Bachira’s stuffed dolphin stares deep into his soul.
He sighs and rolls back onto his side. Bachira Meguru is going to be the death of him.
4
Trying to make conversation with Rin is like trying to approach a wolf in the wild. Isagi will take one step forward, and Rin will immediately glare at him until Isagi is forced to take three steps back. He feels like they’ve made some progress—Rin seems to be a lot softer with Hiori around.
In the living room, Bachira’s Kart keeps falling off the course. Hiori laughs, and a strand of blue hair falls into his eyes. Isagi finally sees Rin’s eyes twinkle.
Isagi sighs. “You could at least say something,” he says. Rin’s lips immediately curl into a frown, and Isagi wonders if it ever gets painful.
“Are you gonna confess to him,” Rin says, “or just stare at him like an idiot?”
Isagi opens his mouth to say something, but he immediately closes it. Rin’s right and he hates it.
“I’m working on it,” Isagi manages. Rin just scoffs. Isagi looks over at the couch, where Hiori and Bachira have started another serious game of Mario Kart. There’s a quiet beauty in the way Bachira laughs and smiles, fingers wrapped around the bright yellow controller.
Isagi can’t make fun of Rin, because he’s jealous. Hiori manages to make Rin seem more like a white fox running through glittering snow. He’s still a little scary, but at least Isagi knows Rin won’t kill him while Hiori’s around.
“Isagi!” Bachira says, “come play with us!” His bangs are swept across his face, skin kissed by the moon.
Isagi smiles. “I’ll be over in a little bit.” He feels the weight of Rin’s stare, and it reminds him that he’s on borrowed time.
Isagi joins the next game, and he tries not to think about the way Bachira’s practically pressed against him. Isagi can feel Bachira’s warm shoulder against his own and he aches.
“This is kinda like a double date, right?” Bachira asks. Isagi’s Kart drives right off the course and into the water. He swallows thickly and plasters a smile on his face. Double date?
Hiori eventually convinces Rin to join. Rin plays as Yoshi, and Isagi thinks the character fits him. He’s not very good, but Hiori doesn’t mind at all. He’s just happy to spend time with him.
At one point, Bachira reaches for the bowl of popcorn sitting on the table. His hand brushes against Isagi’s and sparks shoot up his spine.
They play until darkness blankets the sky and Isagi feels a familiar itch surfing under his skin. Bachira’s eyelids are getting heavy, and Isagi walks Hiori and Rin to the door. Hiori, even the gentleman, opens the door for Rin.
“We’ve gotta do this again soon!” Hiori says, smiling. “It was nice seein’ you two!”
A smile tugs at the corner of Isagi’s lips. “Goodnight,” he says. He expects Rin to walk away without sparing him a glance, but he looks back as he walks down the hallway. Isagi can’t tell if he’s waving at him or just stretching, so he waves back anyway.
Isagi locks the door and walks back into the living room. His breath catches in his throat and he immediately rushes to turn the TV off. Like a cat, Bachira is curled up on the couch as he sleeps. Isagi would honestly be surprised if Bachira turns out to be fully human. So far, Isagi has peeled him off the floor, the counter, and the kitchen table.
Isagi should probably leave him be. Maybe he doesn’t even want Isagi to move him.
Isagi sighs. He packs his thoughts into the mental box where self doubt goes. He just wants Bachira to be comfortable, after all.
Isagi gently slides an arm under Bachira’s knees, using his other hand to support his back. He carries him to their bedroom before gently setting Bachira in the opposite bed. Isagi is relieved when Bachira continues to sleep as if nothing happened.
After turning off the living room lights, Isagi makes his way back to the bedroom. Bachira looks so cute and pretty and peaceful, but Isagi feels dumb and creepy for even looking at him.
Isagi crawls into bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. He immediately rolls over onto his side and peels his blanket off his feet. It’s one of those nights where it’s hot but not enough to sleep without a blanket. Instead of sticking to his skin, his sweat feels a little cool against his forehead.
“Always,” Bachira whispers, and Isagi freezes. He doesn’t dare to roll over, in case Bachira is awake. “I’ll always like you.”
Isagi swallows thickly. He should really tell Bachira that he talks in his sleep. Isagi was vaguely aware of it before, but now it’s all he can think about. Bachira is in love with someone and he’ll always like them and that person is probably not him.
Isagi runs a hand through his hair. He sighs softly. Time is moving slowly but he doesn’t have enough of it. One of these days, Bachira is going to approach the person he’s been dreaming about all this time, and he’ll leave Isagi behind.
Bachira deserves to know that he sets Isagi’s heart ablaze. If he doesn’t confess soon, someone else might, and the thought makes him a little sick inside.
Isagi falls asleep before he can craft a plan, but Bachira’s words are fresh in his mind when he wakes up.
5
Outings are always quiet without Bachira around. Isagi would have canceled, but he hadn’t seen Kunigami in a week. His friends are gross and in love, but their advice was far from helpful. Confessing sounds hard and Isagi is terrified of rejection.
Nagi did that thing where he proposes to Reo with a paper straw, and Reo nearly cried. Kunigami had his arm around Chigiri’s shoulders, looking at the other boy with nothing but adoration in his eyes.
Isagi unlocks the front door and quietly walks into the hallway. The TV is on, playing reruns of Bachira’s favorite cartoon. Isagi changes into more comfortable clothes and finds Bachira curled up on his bed.
Isagi presses a hand to Bachira’s forehead. He’s burning up. “Bachira?” He whispers into the quiet of the evening. An open bottle of cough medicine is sitting on the bedside table, surrounded by cups of ginger tea and crumpled napkins.
Bachira gently leans into the couch like an affectionate cat. “‘M sorry you’re sick,” Isagi says. He clasps his fingers together and grimaces at the stickiness of his skin.
If this were a romantic comedy, Isagi would sleep next to Bachira, he’d confess, Bachira would kiss him, and they’d both be sick the next morning. Isagi would complain, but he’d do it all again, do anything for Bachira.
Isagi gently brushes Bachira’s sweat-soaked bangs out of his eyes. His eyelashes rest gently against his skin, lips parted as he takes deep breaths. Isagi’s heart aches and coils.
“Love you,” Bachira whispers. “I love you.”
Isagi steps back from Bachira’s bed like he’s been burned. And in a way, he has. Isagi’s skin feels hot and his throat goes dry.
He swallows thickly. Bachira is sick. Bachira is dreaming and sick people have fever dreams. Isagi wonders if Bachira took the right amount of cough medicine. Knowing him, he probably eyeballed it.
Isagi lifts up his covers and climbs into bed. Bachira is still motionless in the opposite bed. He still sleeps like the dead.
Isagi pulls out his phone and looks down at the screen. Like a crime scene, there are traces of Bachira everywhere. His background is a photo of him and his friends—Bachira included—playing a game of beach soccer.
His photo albums are filled with Bachira—selfies he took, photos of things he found interesting, the silly reaction images he loves to send.
Isagi smiles, and he opts to text someone who knows a thing or two about yearning. He would text Reo, but there’s no doubt he’s already passed out beside Nagi.
isagi 🌱
Hey
Sorry if I woke you up
chigiri 🐆
it’s alright
i couldn’t rly sleep anyway
isagi 🌱
Does Kunigami snore, LOL
chigiri 🐆
yes, actually 😭
so what’s going on??
isagi 🌱
Bachira.
I really wanna confess but.
What if he doesn’t like me and I’m about to lose my best friend
chigiri 🐆
you are so dumb
sorry
but not really
isagi 🌱
That’s really helpful
chigiri 🐆
i’m out of things to say to you
please confess because we’re all tired of this
it’s so clear that he likes you
his eyes literally sparkle whenever someone says your name. he never stops talking about you
isagi 🌱
But what if I’m wrong
chigiri 🐆
but what if you aren’t??
don’t overthink this please
you don’t want to wake up and wish you could have told him everything
speaking from experience
isagi 🌱
Okay
Thank you, Chigiri
chigiri 🐆
Anytime ❤️
You know I’m always right
isagi 🌱
🙄
Fine.
chigiri 🐆
you know i’ve got your back
now go to bed or you’ll be miserable tomorrow
isagi 🌱
Ok
Goodnight 🌙
chigiri 🐆
goodnight :))
Isagi closes his eyes and holds his phone to his chest. He’s a man in love, but he can’t be a coward. He’ll walk into a fire and get burned, but he’d rather sleep without regrets.
+1
Isagi grits his teeth. His paper is due in three hours, and he has no one to blame but himself. He had months to work on it, but he convinced himself that the pressure would carry him through the ten-page assignment.
By some miracle, Bachira is sleeping in the opposite bed. Isagi wonders how he manages to get all his assignments in on time. Maybe he doesn’t.
The heat of the evening is getting to him. His skin feels hot and prickly, but he can’t peel off his blanket without feeling a chill. Isagi reaches beside him for a bottle of water, bringing it to his lips.
“I like you.”
Isagi freezes. He looks up at the TV, but it’s turned off. There’s no sound coming out of his computer or phone, either. He takes a deep breath before looking at the boy beside him.
Bachira appears to be sleeping. He’s turned away from Isagi, mumbling about his mystery crush. Maybe it’s the heat or the weight of the missing assignment, but Isagi feels like passing out.
“I’ve always liked you,” Bachira continues. His voice sounds more clear than usual, words sharper instead of slurred.
Isagi slowly closes his computer, contemplating emailing his professor and asking for an extension. He frowns. “I wonder what you’d say if you were awake,” he says softly.
Bachira stirs beside him, and to Isagi’s horror, the other boy rolls over. Their eyes meet in the dark, and Isagi is caught in Bachira’s golden gaze. He’s so pretty and Isagi is close to tears. Is he dreaming?
“I am awake, Isagi,” Bachira says, smiling. Isagi’s mouth is dry and he can’t do anything but stare like an idiot.
Isagi swallows thickly. “Were you awake all those other times?” He asks.
Bachira tilts his head like a confused cat. “What other times?”
“You talk in your sleep,” Isagi says, “you kept talking about liking someone.” Isagi wants to ask if it’s one of their close friends, or god forbid Otoya—
Bachira laughs. “My mom said I do that,” he replies. “But I usually dream about soccer and stuff.”
The blue sheets are cool against Isagi’s skin. “What about now?” He asks. He sounds hopeful, maybe a little desperate.
The silence between them is sweet but Isagi feels uncomfortable. He just wants Bachira to say something. Anything would do.
“You’re really smart, Isagi,” Bachira says. “I think you can figure it out.”
Isagi has thought about this moment a lot. He always thought he’d wrap his arm around Bachira’s shoulders and kiss him after watching a movie. Maybe Bachira would be the one to kiss him inside of a pillow fort.
This time, it’s up to him.
“I like you,” Isagi says. “So much.”
Bachira’s eyes are like satellites in the dark. “I like you too,” he replies, grinning. “A lot—if you couldn’t tell.”
Isagi’s palms are practically glued to each other. “I guess I just didn’t think you’d like me back.”
“Are you kidding?” Bachira asks. He’s almost frowning, eyebrows furrowed like an angry cat. “You’re the only one I’ve ever liked.”
“Really?” Isagi says. His heart glows bright in his chest. This might be one of those instances where he was worried for nothing.
“Yeah,” Bachira replies. He lifts up his blanket and gestures for Isagi to come closer. “Do you wanna sleep here?” He asks. “You don’t have to—obviously.”
Isagi tucks his laptop under his arm and nods. He takes the spot next to Bachira and the bedside table. Bachira immediately curls up beside him, intertwining their fingers. He’s warm and the night is warm but Isagi is even warmer.
“So,” Isagi says, smiling, “you meant all that stuff you said?”
Bachira rests his head on Isagi’s shoulder. His hair is dark against Isagi’s white shirt. “That depends,” he says. “What did I say?”
“That I’m handsome and warm and pretty,” Isagi says. “That you love me.”
Bachira’s eyelashes flutter against his skin, and he presses a chaste kiss to Isagi’s lips. “Sounds about right!” He says, beaming. Isagi feels his face heat up, and he leans in to kiss Bachira again.
Bachira’s lips are soft against his own and it’s sugary sweet. The other boy’s fingers are curled around his wrist, and Isagi’s smiling so hard it hurts, thoughts clouded with nothing but Bachira.
When they pull apart, Bachira is giggling and Isagi feels like a teenager. Bachira presses a kiss to his cheek, running a gentle hand through Isagi’s hair. Isagi reaches for Bachira’s hand, thumb running over his knuckles.
Bachira lies down and closes his eyes, and Isagi knows he’s finally about to sleep. The warmth of Bachira beside him feels so familiar, and Isagi is already hooked on the feeling.
Isagi feels himself about to drift off, but he keeps his eyes open for a moment longer. He gently brushes hair out of Bachira’s eyes, and the other boy leans into the touch. He leans over and presses a kiss to Bachira’s forehead, something he’s wanted to do for months.
He’s practically glowing like a thousand fireflies in the night. His assignment can wait until tomorrow.