Archive of Our Own

One minute, everything is great – it’s a nice day, the birds are singing, a slight breeze is keeping him comfortably cool in the summer sun as he hikes his favorite path along the cliff face, and he found a quarter in the street this morning – then, the next minute, Noya trips, staggers, and is suddenly falling off the cliff toward the jagged rocks below.

He has time to think, “Oh, shit,” and then he’s hitting the water and being pulled under by the fierce current and, before he can remember to not breathe in salt water, everything goes black.

He wakes up on the beach below the cliffs, feeling distinctly as though he is dying. His lungs burn as he turns onto his side and heaves up water, spitting it onto the sand. Everything hurts. It feels like he bruised every square inch of himself when he hit the water. He shifts, testing for broken bones. Nothing. It’s basically a miracle, because that cliff is pretty high.

Noya looks over at the cliff, where he was walking a moment ago, pushing his soaking hair back and squinting in the sun. How the hell did he survive that? On top of that, how the hell did he get to the beach? The current should have killed him – the locals don’t call it Dead Man’s Point for nothing. He was about three seconds away from becoming part of an especially gruesome statistic and, instead, here he is.

What the hell?

Then he looks around the beach.

Then he screams.

Once he gets over the shock of the naked man bleeding profusely from his incredibly muscular leg, Noya goes for his cell phone. He creeps towards the naked man while he hits the on button repeatedly, but nothing happens – the naked man doesn’t move and the phone doesn’t turn on. Apparently his phone is not part of the miracle that saved Noya's life. Which sucks.

More importantly, the naked man isn’t moving. Noya inches forward until he’s kneeing next to the guy and leans in, staring at his chest. He has a very nice chest. He has a very naked chest. Also, he’s breathing.

Noya lets out a deep breath of his own and sits back on his heels. Now what? He can’t just leave this guy here, but he can’t call emergency services either. The guy is way too big to carry.

“Hey, you,” Noya tries, leaning forward again.

The naked man doesn’t stir.

“Hey, you!” Noya says again, raising his volume. He pokes the guy’s shoulder.

The naked man groans and shifts, tipping over from his side onto his back. Then he gasps and his eyes shoot open.

Noya jumps. “Shit!”

The man half sits up, grabbing at his leg. The noise he makes is painful to listen to, and it gives Noya some idea of how much that tear in his leg must hurt.

“Hey, calm down, man,” Noya says, soothingly.

The naked man is not soothed – instead, he panics. He turns wide brown eyes on Noya, makes a strange sort of gasping sound, and then lunges towards the water, dragging his injured leg behind him and shouting in pain when he jostles it.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Noya shouts, grabbing the guy’s shoulder and trying to tug him back. “I’m not gonna hurt you! Calm down!” Geeze, this guy is fucking strong. Those muscles aren’t for show, that’s for sure. The guy lunges forward again, pulling Noya off-balance and sending him crashing into the guy’s back. His naked back. Fuck. Noya lets go and scrambles back on his knees, giving the guy some space. “Calm down,” he says again.

The naked man turns to look at Noya. Noya raises both his hands in an “I mean you no harm” gesture. The guy looks terrified; his eyes are huge, and his face is pinched in pain.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Noya repeats, trying to be soothing again, not that it worked the first time. He shuffles back a bit to demonstrate how much he doesn’t want to hurt the guy. “I’m Nishinoya Yuu,” he says, slapping one hand on his chest. It squelches uncomfortably on his sopping wet t-shirt. Noya winces. “But pretty much everyone calls me Noya,” he adds. “You can call me Noya. What can I call you?”

The naked man’s mouth moves, but Noya doesn’t hear anything.

Noya shakes the water out of his ears. “Sorry, what?”

“My name is Asahi,” the naked man says, softly.

“Okay, cool, nice to meet you, Asahi,” Noya says. He grins at Asahi.

Asahi smiles back at him – well, sort of. The expression on his face looks like it wants to be a smile, it just isn’t quite getting there. Understandable. The guy does have a massive gash in his leg that’s still bleeding freely.

Oh. Right.

“My phone’s not working,” Noya says, holding up his phone to show Asahi, “so I can’t call anyone to come get us. If I help you, do you think you can get to the parking lot, or something? Or I can leave you here, now that you’re conscious, and I can go get help, or –”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Asahi says, hurriedly. His eyes are really wide again. He shakes his head rapidly; his long brown hair swishes around and sticks to his face and he swipes it away with an impatient gesture. “I don’t want anyone else to know,” he says, dropping his voice again.

“To know what?” Noya asks. “That you’re injured? There’s no shame in getting injured. So you’re bleeding – so what? So you need medical help. Just let me go, and I’ll bring the paramedics right to you.” Noya stands up and takes a step away from Asahi, inland towards where the parking lot and payphone are, but Asahi shakes his head again so Noya stops.

“No one can know I was here,” Asahi says, still speaking quietly. He glances over his shoulder, towards the ocean. “I’ll just go now, and you can leave.” Then he starts dragging himself towards the water again.

What. The. Fuck.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Noya shouts, racing over to stop him. He grabs Asahi's shoulder again and Asahi stops moving immediately. He tenses up at Noya's touch, so Noya lets go. He steps in front of Asahi, getting between him and the ocean. “Asahi,” he says, “you’re bleeding. Like, a lot. You don’t need to go swimming right now – you need a doctor.”

“I need to stay away from the humans,” Asahi says, glancing around the beach jerkily, “especially because I’m injured. It’s bad enough that you saw me. I just wanted to bring you to the beach, but the current there is so strong, and I hit that rock, and I must have passed out. But it’s fine now, and I’ll just go, and it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.” He’s nodding, seemingly to himself, while he talks.

So apparently Asahi saved Noya from the current and got hurt doing it. Now Noya really has to make sure he’s okay. The part makes sense, but the first part really, really doesn’t.

“What do you mean ‘the humans’?” Noya asks.

Asahi freezes, his mouth snapping closed. He glances down the beach a bit, near where the waves are breaking on the sand. Noya glances over there too.

Lying on the sand, just out of reach of the waves, is a – Noya isn’t sure what that is. It looks like a tent, maybe. It’s big and grey and kind of folded in on itself. Is that a fin, though? It kind of looks like a fin, poking out from the jumble of folds.

Noya looks back at Asahi, who is staring at him, wide-eyed and terrified. Then he looks back at the pile of grey folds and fins. Then he thinks about the stories he hears in the village pub, the ones he’s always enjoyed but dismissed as local legends – the ones about selkies.

When he really looks, he thinks he can see a tear in the folds of the grey thing, stained with red that glints wetly under the sun. Noya glances at Asahi's leg, where the wound is bleeding openly. Then he looks back at the grey thing, with a blood-stained tear that Noya is beginning to suspect would line up perfectly with the wound on Asahi's leg. Then he looks back at Asahi.

“Please don’t call the paramedics,” Asahi whispers, staring up at Noya with pleading eyes.

So Noya doesn’t.

Getting Asahi back to Noya's beach shack isn’t easy, but it’s either that or the hospital and Asahi is dead set against the hospital. They manage it with a fuckton of swearing on Noya's part and a whole bunch of very obviously held back tears on Asahi's part. The leg wound bleeds a lot and looks incredibly painful, but Asahi doesn’t complain once. The whole thing pretty much sucks.

Once they’re inside, Noya helps Asahi onto the sofa and goes to get his medical kit from under the bathroom sink. He laughed when Kiyoko put it there, but now he’s kind of regretting insisting on the smaller version instead of the apocalypse-ready super kit that she originally recommended. What if he has to do stitches? He doesn’t know how to do stitches, and even if he did, he doesn’t have any of the supplies for them! Maybe he should call Kiyoko and ask her to come over. He doesn’t know if she knows how to do stitches either, but she probably does. Kiyoko is one of those terrifyingly competent people who knows everything. If Kiyoko found a selkie on the beach, she would stitch up his leg and have him on his way in no time. Noya, on the other hand, is in way over his head.

Noya glances back towards the living room where he left Asahi. He breathes deeply in and out a few times to steady himself. He just has to do it. Asahi got hurt saving him, which makes Noya responsible for him – sort of. Noya feels responsible for him, anyway.

He returns to the living room and finds Asahi exactly where he left him. He is very naked. His seal pelt is bunched up on the sofa next to him and the throw blanket that Noya told him he could use is still draped over the back of the sofa where it was when Noya left the room. And Asahi is very, very naked.

“You can, uh, cover up, if you want,” Noya offers. Not that he minds, really – part of the problem is kind of that he really doesn’t mind – but it feels a bit weird to have a guy naked in his house when they aren’t even dating. It doesn’t help that Asahi is really, really built. Like, holy shit. It’s super distracting.

Asahi just stares at him, like he doesn’t know what Noya means. He does not cover up. Maybe selkies have different cultural norms or something. Maybe being naked is normal for them.

Noya doesn’t want to make it weird, so he grins and sits on the coffee table in front of the couch. He very carefully does not look at Asahi's nether regions. Noya is a gentleman, after all.

Asahi shifts away from Noya a bit, watching him warily and putting one hand on his pelt. He’s really protective of that thing. Which, no wonder, with the typical stories about selkies and the asshole humans who take advantage of them, but Noya still feels a bit insulted. He grabbed the pelt for Asahi on the beach and handed it right over, and he never tried to touch it on the way back to his place, letting Asahi clutch it to his chest without comment. Asahi did save his life, though, and Noya doesn’t think he’s trying to be rude, so Noya ignores it and focuses on the first aid kit.

“So,” Noya says brightly, “why don’t you put your leg up here –” he pats the coffee table beside his hip, right in front of where Asahi is sitting on the sofa “– and I’ll take a look at it.”

Slowly, Asahi lifts his leg and puts it on the coffee table. He’s obviously trying to avoid touching Noya, which means his leg is kind of skewed out to the side.

Noya coughs. “I’ll just –” He pops the medical kit open and ducks down over it to hide the red he can feel on his cheeks. He grabs the largest bandage in the kit, some disinfectant wipes, and the anti-infection cream stuff. When he looks up, Asahi is watching him carefully.

“Are you okay?” Asahi asks. He looks genuinely worried.

“Fine!” Noya chirps. He flashes another grin and holds up his supplies. “Okay if I get started?”

Asahi hesitates, but then nods slowly.

“Great,” Noya says. He clears his throat. “I’m gonna disinfect it first,” he says, tearing open the disinfectant wipes to do just that.

He talks Asahi through everything he does as he does it, mindful of how jumpy Asahi has been so far. As Noya narrates what he’s doing – making sure not to touch Asahi more than he has to, or to look anywhere he doesn’t have to – Asahi gradually relaxes. By the time Noya is smoothing the bandage over the wound, Asahi is leaning back against the couch and smiling an actual smile at Noya. His hand is resting lightly on his pelt instead of holding onto it in a death grip. Noya smiles back at him, which is really easy to do because Asahi has a very nice smile.

Then Asahi shifts, and Noya glances down automatically to make sure his leg is okay, and –

“Do you want something to eat?” Noya asks, springing up from the coffee table and putting some distance between himself and Asahi. He meets Asahi's eyes dead on. He does not look anywhere else.

“Okay,” Asahi says. He looks a bit confused by Noya's sudden offer. Clearly, being a naked man in a stranger’s home is not nearly as uncomfortable for Asahi as having a naked stranger in his home is for Noya. He still has not covered himself up at all.

Under normal circumstances, Noya wouldn’t mind. With Asahi, he really, really wouldn’t mind. But these are not normal circumstances. He is not dating Asahi; he is performing basic first aid on Asahi to say thanks for saving his life. And Asahi is, like, part fish. Or part seal. Or sometimes is a seal. Or something. He isn’t human, that’s for sure, and Noya is pretty sure that should be bothering him more than it actually is.

“I can make sandwiches,” Noya suggests. He probably has stuff for that. And if he doesn’t, he can run to the store. It’s just five minutes away and it’ll give him time to clear his head.

“Okay,” Asahi says again. He is still watching Noya, looking just a bit tenser than he did a moment ago when Noya got him to relax. Noya feels tenser, too.

“Great!” Noya says. “I’ll just go make them.” He hooks his thumb behind himself, at the kitchen, and then turns and hurries away.

The kitchen is only separated from the living room by the breakfast bar, which doesn’t really give Noya space, but the rush of cold air from the fridge when he opens it and sticks his head inside is very bracing. Unfortunately, he does have what he needs to make sandwiches – for once – so he doesn’t get to run to the store. He makes the sandwiches quickly and takes them back over to the couch, dropping onto the far end from Asahi to give them both space. Asahi takes his sandwich gingerly, thanks Noya, and then looks at Noya expectantly.

“I didn’t poison it,” Noya blurts out. Then he snaps his mouth shut. He didn’t mean to say that.

“I didn’t think you did,” Asahi says. “I just don’t – ah, I don’t know how to eat this.”

Noya blinks at him. “What?”

Asahi ducks his head. His hair swings forward in front of his face adorably. “I mostly eat fish,” he says, glancing at Noya from behind his hair. “I just don’t want to, well –”

“Mess up eating a sandwich?” Noya asks, confused.

“Yes,” Asahi says, nodding eagerly. “You’ve been so kind to me, not calling the paramedics and bringing me to your home and fixing up my leg; I don’t want to be rude.”

“I’m pretty sure there isn’t a rude way to eat a sandwich,” Noya assures him. He feels warm, though, in his chest, at Asahi's words. If he was the sort of person who blushed easily, he would probably be blushing right now. Good thing he isn’t. One blush in a day is more than enough. “Here,” Noya says, lifting his own sandwich, “like this.” He takes a bite, leaning over the plate in his lap to catch any lettuce pieces or meat bits or tomato juices that fall out.

Asahi copies him, taking a bite and leaning over his own plate. Holy shit, he has a six pack.

Noya jerks his eyes away from Asahi's abs and meets his eyes instead, nodding encouragingly when he sees that Asahi is looking at him. Asahi smiles again – fuck that’s attractive – and takes another bite. Noya does the same.

Eating sandwiches has never been so taxing.

“I swear, Ryu, he’s a fucking selkie,” Noya whispers into the phone.

He’s standing on the beach in front of his shack, whispering so that Asahi won’t hear him. His cell phone is trashed, it looks like, so he’s using the house phone with the cord threaded out through the kitchen window and stretched so far that the curly cord is straight.

He and Asahi spent most of the day watching TV and playing Chutes and Ladders – which Asahi thought was just about the cleverest thing he had ever seen, for some reason – and then, when Asahi started yawning just as the sun was going down, Noya put him to bed … in his own bed … while Asahi was still completely naked. Just like he’s been naked all day. In Noya's home. On Noya’s sofa. About two feet away from him.

It’s been a trying day.

“What’s a selkie?” Tanaka asks, sounding like he’s only half paying attention. Kiyoko will get home from work any minute, so he’s probably waiting by the door.

“You know,” Noya says, “selkies. Human some of the time, seal some of the time, with the pelt that people hide and the call of the ocean and the fisherman’s kids and whatever?” That’s basically how the stories go, if Noya's remembering right.

“No,” Tanaka says.

Noya sighs. “He looks human, but he can turn into a fucking seal any time he wants,” he says. That’s the important part. Well, part of the important part. The rest of the important part is that he’s sleeping in Noya's bed right now.

“Oh,” Tanaka says, sounding more engaged at last. “That’s fucking wild.”

“Right!” Noya shouts. He glances over his shoulder at the house, but he doesn’t hear anything that would indicate that Asahi has woken up. He drops his volume again anyway, to be safe. “And he’s in my fucking house right now,” Noya whispers, “naked.”

“Dude,” Tanaka says, suddenly serious, “are you telling me that you had sex with a seal-man?”

“Of course not!” Noya protests.

“Not that I’m judging – I mean, if you really like the guy then I’m sure I’ll love him too,” Tanaka says.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Noya hisses, darting another look at the house. Still no sign of Asahi. He takes another half step away from the house, stretching the phone cord to its absolute limit. “He just is naked. I found him like that and I offered him a blanket and then clothes, but he didn’t seem interested in putting anything on.”

“So he’s just naked in your house?” Tanaka asks.

“Yes,” Noya whispers fiercely. “And –” he checks again for Asahi; no one is there “– he’s really, really hot.”

“All right, get it, Yuu!”

“It’s not like that!” Noya exclaims. Not that he hasn’t had thoughts – who can blame him for having thoughts when Asahi has been lounging around his house naked all day? – but it isn’t like that.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have said he’s hot if you weren’t thinking about it,” Tanaka points out, sounding smug. “Noya's gonna get a mermaid boyfriend. Hah! Ooh!” he suddenly shouts. “We can double date! Kiyoko's gonna be psyched!”

“He’s a selkie, not a mermaid,” Noya corrects him. “And shut up.”

“Yeah, all right.” Tanaka laughs. “But if you do end up dating him, we’re totally gonna double. Also –” Noya hears the door open over the phone, and then Kiyoko calling out a greeting. “– Hey, Kiyoko's home, I’ll talk to you later, Yuu,” Tanaka says. “Remind me to tell you about a thing, okay?”

“Fine,” Noya says. “Leave me alone in this hell.”

“Yep,” Tanaka chirps. “Love you.”

“Love you, Ryu,” Noya returns.

The line goes dead and Noya drops the phone to his side. Then he drops his head back to stare up at the moon. He sighs. The moon is indifferent. The waves throw themselves onto the sand, beating a steady rhythm. Inside his house, a selkie is sleeping naked in his bed.

It isn’t the strangest day he’s ever had, but it’s close.

Noya stays outside for a while, sitting in the sand and watching the moon reflect off of the water, its light distorted by the motion of the waves. He sits there until his eyes get heavy and his limbs get loose, and then he goes inside to sleep on the sofa.

That night, he dreams about seals going on double dates with seagulls.

It isn’t the strangest dream he’s ever had. Actually, it isn’t even close.

Noya wakes up with a crick in his neck and an acute awareness that someone is staring at him. He doesn’t remember Tanaka staying over last night, so that’s weird. He cracks open one eye.

Ah. Yes. His houseguest.

“Good morning, Asahi,” Noya mumbles into his arm, blinking up at Asahi.

Asahi is sitting on the coffee table watching Noya sleep. Or, he was watching Noya sleep, and then Noya woke up and caught him watching him sleep. Asahi doesn’t look very caught, though. For a guy who gets super nervous and jumpy about the weirdest stuff, Asahi doesn’t seem to have much of a sense of shame when it comes to normal things like being naked and staring at people while they sleep. It’s kind of charming, which is bad. Noya does not need to be charmed by a seal-man. His life is complicated enough as it is.

“Good morning, Noya,” Asahi says. “Did you sleep well?”

“Super well,” Noya lies. The couch is not a comfortable place to sleep. He got it off the side of the road and it perfectly embodies the sentiment that you get what you pay for. Noya notices, then, that Asahi is dripping wet. And now his floor and coffee table are dripping wet as well. And Asahi is still naked. And wet. And sitting very close to Noya's face. Noya sits up. “Why’re you all wet?” he asks, carefully directing his gaze to Asahi's face.

“I found your waterfall,” Asahi says. He smiles and points towards the bathroom. There is a trail of water leading from the living room down the short hall to the bathroom and bedroom. Now that he’s paying attention, Noya can hear the shower running. “I was pulling all the nobs and it just started,” Asahi says excitedly. “It’s incredible.”

“Yeah, indoor plumbing is a real marvel,” Noya agrees. “You’re supposed to turn it off when you’re done, though. To save water.”

“Save it for what?” Asahi asks.

“Just, you know, stuff,” Noya says. He shrugs. “It’s just what you do.”

“Oh, sorry!” Asahi says, his expression falling immediately from delighted interest to frantic apology. He jumps up and hurries towards the bathroom before Noya can assure him that it’s no big deal, limping heavily from his bandaged leg wound and dripping water all the way off of his very naked body.

And there’s Noya's first blush of the day.

His second blush of the day comes minutes later, after Asahi has turned off the shower and rejoined Noya in the living room, still as naked and wet as ever, just in time for the door to swing open and Tanaka, Kiyoko, Saeko, and Ukai to come pouring in.

“Hello, Yuu!” Saeko shouts. “And hell-o, stranger!”

“What the fuck,” Noya says, blankly, staring at his unexpected company.

“Cover your eyes, little brother,” Saeko cries, slapping her hand over Tanaka’s eyes. Tanaka sputters a protest, swiping at her hand, but Saeko is unmoved. “This scene isn’t fit for children,” she declares. “Should we come back later, Yuu? Ryu specifically said you weren’t entertaining in that sense, but I see that he’s wrong.” She wiggles both of her eyebrows. “Good for you,” she adds in an obviously pleased stage whisper.

Ukai, standing beside her and carrying a bag that smells like French toast, looks decidedly less amused. Kiyoko is looking at the ceiling. Tanaka is still struggling against Saeko's hand and flailing wildly.

Oh god, they think this is –

“No, it’s fine!” Noya shouts. He jumps up from the couch to demonstrate to them all that he, at least, is fully clothed. He doesn’t account for the blanket tangled around his legs, though, and when he springs up he immediately trips and falls over.

He’s headed for the coffee table, about to bust his chin open, no doubt, when suddenly his momentum stops and he finds himself caught by a pair of incredibly well-defined arms. Noya looks up, past the well-defined arms, and the equally well-defined chest his head is resting against, to meet Asahi's eyes. Asahi looks worried.

“Are you okay, Noya?” he asks.

Noya gapes up at him, at a complete loss.

Behind him, Tanaka and Saeko both erupt into laughter.

And that is his third blush of the day. And he hasn’t even had breakfast yet.

It’s a good thing that the Tanaka siblings are both partnered up with reasonable people – much kinder people than either of them are, too – because Noya would probably be dead right now if they weren’t. He’d be dead of embarrassment at the sheer ridiculousness of literally swooning like a damsel in distress and falling into Asahi's arms. Asahi's large, strong arms. And Asahi's large, strong chest.

Fuck.

He might still die of embarrassment.

Kiyoko is a miracle worker, though. Two minutes after she’s arrived, Asahi is wearing clothes. When Noya asked her how she did it, she just shrugged elegantly and told him that Asahi might not be human but he is a person, and an intelligent one at that, and once she explained to him that wearing clothes is considered polite in land-based society, he was very eager to put something on. She really is incredible.

Noya kind of wishes that Asahi had some different clothes to wear, though. Nothing that Noya owns fits him. This is not surprising, because Noya is a … not particularly tall person … and Asahi is fucking huge. Noya's loosest, stretchiest sweat pants are basically yoga pants on Asahi, fitting him in a distractingly tight way, and the only top in Noya's house that will go on over his broad shoulders is a stupid hoodie that belonged to one of Noya's ex-boyfriends from years ago and has been stuffed in the back of Noya's closet ever since. It isn’t ideal, as far as outfits go. It’s actually really, really un-ideal, but it isn’t like they have any other options. Noya will have to take Asahi shopping later. Or just borrow stuff from Ukai.

“So, Asahi,” Saeko says.

Everyone looks at her. They’ve moved outside and down to the beach to eat the breakfast that Tanaka and Kiyoko brought while sitting on the sand in the sunlight. Asahi sat next to Noya, which made everyone else exchange annoyingly knowing glances.

“Because I am basically Yuu’s big sister,” Saeko says, pointing her fork at Asahi, “I feel obliged to ask you what your intentions are.”

Nya chokes on his bite of French toast. Tanaka pounds him on the back until he stops coughing, by which point his eyes are watering and completely ruining the effectiveness of the warning look that he’s trying to level at Saeko.

“What do you mean?” Asahi asks. He glances at Noya, as if looking for help.

Noya rushes to respond before Saeko can.

“She means that you’re planning to go back to the ocean once your leg is healed, right?” Noya says. He shoots Saeko another look, this one more pleading. Saeko responds better to pleas than to threats.

“Right,” she says. Then, just to make Noya's life difficult, she adds, “Or not. You know, whatever you plan to do.”

“Of course I’m going home once my leg is healed,” Asahi says, bemusedly. “Where else would I go?”

“Exactly,” Noya cuts in. “So –”

“Well, you might decide that you like it on land, is all I’m saying,” Saeko says, interrupting Noya. “That’s all. But then –” She pauses, as if something has just occurred to her. She doesn’t fool Noya for a minute; she always grills his new boyfriends. Not that Asahi is his boyfriend. Or ever will be his boyfriend. But Saeko is Saeko and she does what she wants. “Don’t selkies feel compelled to return to the sea?” Saeko says, thoughtfully. “Isn’t that part of the legend?”

“Of course we do,” Asahi says, nodding. “The ocean is my home. Don’t you feel connected to your home?”

“My home is Keishin,” Saeko says. She reaches out and grabs Ukai’s hand, grinning at him. Ukai smiles back at her; his eyes go warm and soft the way Noya has only ever seen them do for Saeko. Like always, it makes something ach in Noya's chest.

Noya glances at Asahi. Asahi is staring at Saeko and Ukai; the look on his face looks about how Noya feels – part admiring and part wistful.

“Home is wherever he is,” Saeko says, still grinning at her boyfriend.

“That’s beautiful,” Asahi says. It sounds like he really means it, too.

“The ocean is nice too,” Saeko says. Then she laughs and grins at Asahi, somehow managing to make the laugher seem friendly and not derisive even though it sounds a lot like she’s making fun of Asahi. Asahi doesn’t seem bothered; he grins back at Saeko, looking relaxed and happy. “I just wanted to get that cleared up,” Saeko says easily, leaning back on one hand, her other still holding onto Ukai, “so that everyone knows where things stand.”

She doesn’t look at Noya, but Noya knows that she’s talking to him. Saeko is so overprotective. Noya had one bad boyfriend in high school, and now every time he so much as looks at a guy it’s a full throttle interrogation. And the bad boyfriend wasn’t even that bad. True, he did show up at Noya's house at three a.m., drunk off his ass, with a baseball bat once, but he only broke a couple of windows. It was all fine in the end. Saeko seems to think that every guy he brings home now is a serial killer in the making, though, and Tanaka is no help – he just says “better safe than sorry” and offers to have his buddy down at the station run a background check on Noya's new man.

“Hey, Ryu, you said to ask you about a thing,” Noya says, deliberately changing the subject.

Tanaka lights up. “Oh, yeah!” he says. He sets his plate aside and scrambles to his feet, reaching down to help Kiyoko up as well. “We,” he declares, holding both of Kiyoko's hands in his own, “have an announcement.”

“We can see that,” Saeko says. “Get on with it.”

Tanaka makes a face at her, which Saeko laughs at. Kiyoko clears her throat and tilts her head at Tanaka, catching his eye. Tanaka squares his shoulders.

“So you all know how we’ve been in the process of applying for adoption for a while now,” Tanaka says, the excitement in his voice palpable.

Noya's breath catches. He sits up straighter, staring at Tanaka and Kiyoko.

Tanaka pauses. He’s obviously trying to build tension, but his grin gives it all away. It’s Kiyoko who says it, though.

“We got approved yesterday,” she says, her voice vibrating with excitement.

“We’re getting a kid!” Tanaka shouts.

From there, it’s chaos. Noya jumps up to hug them both and so does Saeko, with Ukai half a step behind. Everyone is shouting congratulations and laughing and Tanaka is not the only one who is happy crying by the end of it.

They’ve wanted this for so long. They started the process barely a month after their wedding, over a year ago now, and they’ve been patiently jumping through hoops ever since. This is amazing. Noya is almost as excited that it’s happening for them as they are that it’s happening to them.

“This is awesome,” Noya says, punching Tanaka’s shoulder again. “Congratulations!”

“I know, right!” Tanaka says. He’s beaming, his smile so wide it looks like it should be painful. He and Kiyoko keep grabbing at each other and catching each other’s eyes and staring, smiling, until someone breaks in with another hug. “We’re so excited!”

“You should be!” Saeko says. Her overly-bright eyes match her brother’s. “This is great! This is so great!”

“We need a toast,” Ukai says, wiping at his own eyes. “Noya, do you have –”

“We brought champagne,” Kiyoko says, gesturing to the bag that they brought the French toast in. Aha. So that’s why Kiyoko wouldn’t let anyone else help her unload it – she didn’t want to spoil the surprise by having to explain away a bottle of champagne.

Noya dives into the bag and pulls out the bottle. He passes it off to Tanaka to uncork, and Tanaka does so with a flourish.

It isn’t until he sees Asahi flinch when the cork flies off the bottle that Noya realizes how alienating this must be for Asahi. The five of them have been waiting for this moment for over a year now, but Asahi hasn’t; Asahi doesn’t know them, any of them, really.

Tanaka seems to have this realization at the same moment that Noya does, because he gestures for Asahi to stand up and join everyone else in their little huddle around the champagne bottle.

“There’s plenty for everyone,” Tanaka declares, flashing Asahi a smile as he fills the glasses that Ukai and Saeko have retrieved from the bag and are holding for him one by one. He waits while the two of them pass out the glasses and then sets the bottle down in the sand.

Saeko offers a glass to Asahi, who stands up and takes it, shifting awkwardly in place to accommodate his injured leg and keep his weight off of it.

Noya grins reassuringly at Asahi, which seems to make him feel better. He smiles back, anyway, all attractive and wind-swept under the sun with just a bit of sand in his hair from where he ran his hand through it earlier.

“To Kiyoko and Ryu!” Ukai declares, holding up his glass.

“To Kiyoko and Ryu!” Noya, Saeko, and Asahi echo.

“To our kid!” Tanaka shouts.

“To Baby Tanaka!” Saeko shouts.

“To Baby Tanaka!” everyone shouts.

Noya downs his glass in one long chug, mimicking Saeko. Ukai and Kiyoko sip at their champagne more slowly. Tanaka is grinning so wide he can’t seem to actually take a sip – he keeps bringing the glass to his lips and then lowering it again, laughing in delight and leaning over to kiss Kiyoko's cheek or nose or eyebrow instead, eliciting a string of giggles from Kiyoko that have her lowering her glass as well to stare at Tanaka with that same fond warmth that Saeko and Ukai share.

In the corner of his eye, Noya sees Asahi tip his glass back and take a large gulp. His face twists in some combination of surprise and dismay and then, abruptly, he is spraying champagne everywhere.

For a moment, no one says anything. Asahi looks mortified, holding his champagne glass stiffy away from his body and leaning back a bit as if to create distance between himself and it. Noya wants to comfort him, but then he makes the mistake of looking at Tanaka, who is making smothered choking sounds in a very obvious attempt to not laugh.

The instant their eyes meet, Noya loses it, and he and Tanaka both burst out laughing with Saeko only half a second behind them.

Asahi's eyes go wide, making him look almost exactly like a kicked puppy.

Kiyoko rescues the situation. She grabs the champagne bottle from the sand, plugs the top with her thumb, shakes the bottle vigorously, and then removes her thumb-cork, releasing a spray of champagne over all six of them.

Noya grabs Asahi's arm, grinning at him as everyone else laughs, and, after a moment, Asahi's expression shifts from horrified embarrassment to a blush and a smile. God, he’s pretty when he smiles.

Glistening from the spray of the champagne, Tanaka twirls Kiyoko around in the sand, both of them still laughing brightly, as Ukai pours Saeko another drink from the bottle that he took from Kiyoko and Noya squeezes Asahi's arm. Asahi glances around and, seeing the state of everyone else – happy and sparkling in the sunlight – he finally seems to relax. The smile he shoots at Noya is brighter than the sun overhead or the glittering droplets of champagne on everybody’s skin.

Noya feels like he might float away, he’s so happy. Tanaka and Kiyoko are finally approved for adoption. Four of Noya's absolute favorite people in the world are here, with him, on another beautiful day. And then there’s Asahi, who doesn’t look out of place at all standing here with them.

Days like these are meant to be savored, so that’s what Noya does. He grins up at Asahi, and he has another glass of champagne, and he savors it all, down to the last grain of sand caught in Asahi's long brown hair.

It’s been a few days since Asahi started staying with Noya, and things have gone from fine-if-somewhat-awkward to terrible.

The problem is that Asahi is wonderful.

The problem is that Asahi is sweet.

The problem is that even though Asahi is now wearing Ukai’s clothes instead of Noya's skin-tight sweatpants and the stupid ex-boyfriend hoodie – actually, Asahi apparently likes that hoodie and he asked to keep wearing it, and Noya couldn’t exactly say no, so Asahi is still wearing the stupid ex-boyfriend hoodie – he is still ridiculously, unreasonably, inconveniently fit.

The problem is that Asahi is tidy and thoughtful and kind and fucking built and in possession of the absolute most gorgeous pair of eyes Noya has ever seen, and he seems to do all of these things without even trying, like this is just who he is as a person.

The problem is that Asahi braids his fucking hair while sitting next to Noya on the couch watching infomercials at two a.m. when Noya can’t sleep.

The problem is Asahi, plain and simple.

And the problem is also that if Noya starts dating a seal-man, Tanaka and Saeko will never let him hear the end of it. And also that Asahi is a seal-man, which Noya really thinks should bother him, probably.

And the problem is that Noya has no idea if Asahi is even interested in him in that way, and he can’t think of a way to find out that wouldn’t be potentially horrific considering the fact that Asahi has outright said he’s terrified of people finding out that he’s here and he’s basically putting all of his trust in Noya right now to not screw him over while his leg is healing and if Noya accidentally implies that he wants or expects anything from Asahi in return for his help then Noya will have to throw himself off of that cliff again, this time without any handsome seal-men at the bottom to rescue him.

And the problem is Asahi's biceps, too. Yeah. The problem is definitely Asahi's biceps.

It’s been a trying few days.

Long weekends are nice, but they have to end eventually and that means that Noya has to go to work. He teaches Asahi how to make sandwiches before he leaves the house on Monday, and how to use the phone to call for help if he needs it, and how to work the TV and DVD player. There’s food in the house and Asahi is smart enough that he isn’t likely to horrifically injure himself in Noya’ absence – outside of potentially aggravating the wound on his leg, that is, because Noya isn’t there to help him with things, which sucks but will most likely not actually result in any horrifying consequences – but Noya still hates leaving him alone.

As soon as he finishes work he dashes home, skipping out on his coworkers as they all head out to get drinks together in favor of getting back to Asahi as quickly as possible.

“Asahi, I’m home!” Noya shouts the second he gets the door open.

Asahi is standing in the living room facing the back wall, but he turns as soon as Noya shouts. His expression lights up when he sees Noya, the worrying lines on his face smoothing out so quickly Noya is only mostly sure they were there at all.

“Noya!” Asahi says, obviously pleased. “You’re late; I was worried something was wrong.” He glances at the back wall again.

Noya follows his gaze and realizes what Asahi was looking at: the clock. Noya told Asahi that he would be home at five fifteen – because that’s what time he usually gets home after work – and it is now five nineteen. His boss stopped him for a quick word on the way out and Noya didn’t think that being a few minutes late was worth calling ahead for. Apparently he was wrong.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Noya says. He dumps his bag on the floor by the door and kicks his shoes off. “My boss wanted to talk to me. My project partner is an ass and didn’t turn his half of the work in on time for a kind of a big deal project we’re working on, so now we’re both in trouble.”

“Do you need help?” Asahi asks, sounding extremely concerned. The worry lines are back.

“It’s just work,” Noya says. He shrugs. “It is what it is.”

“But you said you’re in trouble,” Asahi protests. He takes a step towards Noya, limping heavily. He winces as he moves. “If you’re in danger, I want to help you,” he says earnestly.

Noya's expression pinches in confusion. “I’m not in danger,” he says, a bit slowly. “My boss is just giving me a hard time. That’s what bosses do, you know?” Then his gaze drops to Asahi's leg. “How’s your leg, by the way?” That limp doesn’t look good. Shouldn’t it be healing by now, at least a little? Noya doesn’t really know anything about this kind of stuff, but it seems like Asahi's leg should be a bit better after three days of recovery. Asahi looks a little pale, too, and – Noya isn’t sure, but he thinks Asahi might be sweating, which is weird because it’s pretty cool inside the house.

Asahi hesitates. “I think it’s healing?” he says, his tone making it a question instead of a statement. His expression immediately shifts back from uncertainty to concern, though. “Are you sure you’re not in danger?” he asks.

“Positive,” Noya affirms. “I think there might be something wrong with your leg, though. I should take a look at it.”

“You don’t have to,” Asahi says, shaking his head. His pretty brown hair swishes, brushing over his shoulders. “You’ve already done so much for me – I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“I don’t mind,” Noya assures him. “Really.” He really doesn’t. He wants to make sure that Asahi is healing well. He’s come this far, after all – at this point, he feels pretty responsible for Asahi's recovery. Not to mention that Asahi only got injured in the first place saving Noya. So. Noya points at the couch. “Sit. I’ll get the medical kit.”

Asahi sits on the sofa without any more protest. He winces again as he lowers himself onto it, but he doesn’t make any sounds of distress. But then, he hardly made a sound when Noya first brought him back here, and his leg was untreated and bleeding freely then.

Noya hurries to get the medical kit.

Asahi has his leg stretched out with his foot resting on the coffee table, like last time Noya treated his leg, so Noya sits on the coffee table like last time too. At least Asahi isn’t naked this time – that should make this easier.

“Hold on,” Noya says, digging through the kit. “Where are the scissors?” He doesn’t want to have to unwrap the whole bandage; that’ll take forever, and it’ll probably be more painful to pull it away from the wound gradually than it will be if he just cuts through the bandage and pulls the whole thing away at once.

“Oh,” Asahi says. “Do you need those?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Noya says. He dumps all of the bandages onto the coffee table to make sure the scissors aren’t hiding beneath them. They aren’t.

“They might be under the sofa,” Asahi says. Noya looks up at him, but Asahi won’t meet his eyes. There is definitely sweat on his forehead. His eyes look a bit glassy, too, maybe, though it’s hard to tell when Asahi is looking away. Asahi gestures towards the far end of the sofa, looking a bit caught out, which piques Noya's curiosity enough that he sets aside one mystery for another.

Noya drops to his knees on the floor and ducks his head down to look under the couch where Asahi is indicating. He isn’t sure what to expect, but he definitely wouldn’t have expected this.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Noya says.

He reaches under the couch and starts dragging things out. His alarm clock, which disappeared mysteriously yesterday. A couple of pretty pieces of obsidian that he brought back from a trip to a volcano when he was twelve. A really old book that he doesn’t recognize. Four – no, six – no, eleven forks. The mug that Kiyoko uses when she’s here, with stupid tacky rhinestones on it that make her laugh every time she sees them. A comb. The box of dryer sheets that Tanaka gave him, like, a year ago and which Noya used once and then forgot about. Two lightbulbs. Probably every ballpoint pen Noya owns. Two full bags of Hersey’s Kisses. The stereo remote. A framed photo of Noya that Tanaka took this spring. And, yes, the shiny silver scissors from the medical kit.

Noya grabs the scissors and leaves everything else in a pile on the floor. He sits up and stares at Asahi, holding the scissors in one hand.

Asahi stares back at him.

“What,” Noya says, still staring.

“Can I keep the mug, at least?” Asahi asks, his expression hopeful.

“Did you hide this stuff?” Noya asks back, ignoring Asahi's question for the moment. Because, really, what the fuck.

“It’s my trove,” Asahi says, as if that explains everything instead of explaining nothing.

“I don’t know what that means,” Noya tells him. He gestures at the pile of stuff. “Seriously though, why did you hide this stuff under the sofa? It’s mostly crap. This remote doesn’t even work.” Noya doesn’t know why he still has that remote, actually. He’s pretty sure it’s the remote for the stereo that he threw out last year after the incident at the pool party which they all swore to never speak of again.

“It’s pretty,” Asahi says, looking at the remote. He smiles.

Noya looks at the remote too. He doesn’t see what’s so pretty about it. It’s short, black, and shiny, like a lot of remotes. Nothing special.

Then he looks back at Asahi. Asahi really does look pale. And sweaty. And not in a hot way. And – yeah, his eyes are definitely glassy.

He’ll get to the bottom of this whole “trove” thing later. He still needs to check on Asahi's leg, and that’s the more pressing issue.

“Right, well.” Noya gets back onto the coffee table, brandishing the scissors. “One thing at a time.”

He slides the scissors beneath the bandage and begins to cut. Asahi is obviously trying not to flinch away as Noya does it, which tells Noya that something really is wrong. Asahi's pretty tough, from what Noya has seen of him – which includes helping him limp almost a mile on a severely injured and bleeding leg just because he didn’t want to call the paramedics – so him flinching like this means it must really hurt. Again, Noya doesn’t know much about this kind of thing, but he doesn’t think an injury like this should still be quite this painful after it’s been treated and given a few days to heal.

Noya finishes cutting through the bandage and begins peeling it back to reveal the wound.

The smell hits him as soon as he lifts the first edge of the bandage, exposing Asahi's leg to the air for the first time in three days.

“Oh,” Asahi chokes out, smothering the sound with his hand over his mouth.

Noya feels like he might puke. He doesn’t know much about injuries, but, well –

He’s pretty damn sure it shouldn’t look like that.

So apparently you’re supposed to clean and re-dress the wound regularly to prevent infection.

Noya knows this now, because Kiyoko yelled at him about it – very quietly, in that way that only Kiyoko can manage – for nearly twenty minutes over the phone once she was done telling him how to re-clean and re-dress Asahi's leg wound to deal with the infection that has set in. Then she promises to come by in the morning with antibiotics they have left over from a bad infection that Tanaka had last winter. She advises against using them, arguing to take Asahi to the hospital instead, but Asahi is adamant that he will not go to the hospital and Kiyoko is worried enough about the infection that she’s willing to do whatever she can to help, even if it is against her better judgement. Noya is very glad to have her as a friend.

He is especially glad to have her when the fever that Asahi apparently has spikes and leaves him passed out on the bathroom floor.

Kiyoko and Tanaka are both there in less than half an hour.

Noya stays up all night, watching Asahi.

Tanaka has a friend who’s a nurse, and because he’s Tanaka his friend agrees to come to Noya's house immediately to help Asahi. He’s a nurse, not a paramedic, so Noya isn’t technically breaking the promise he made on the beach when Asahi begged him not to call for help. And it’s this or the hospital, and Asahi has made it very, very clear that he does not want to go to the hospital. Noya can’t really blame him for that – if Noya was a supposedly mythical half-man-half-seal, he wouldn’t really want to walk into a place where they specialize in poking and prodding you either.

The nurse – Tsuki-something – gives Asahi the antibiotic that Tanaka and Kiyoko brought over while complaining loudly that they should go get Asahi his own prescription, cleans the wound properly and then bandages it like the pro that he is, and tells Noya to apply ice packs to various parts of Asahi's body and to take Asahi to the emergency room if his fever doesn’t come down in the next hour. He also says that they should give him aspirin as soon as he wakes up, for the inflammation; Noya has the bottle sitting on the bedside table.

After the nurse leaves, Tanaka and Kiyoko insist on spending the night – just in case. They sleep out in the living room while Noya shares the bed with Asahi so he can monitor Asahi's condition. Asahi's fever does come down some with the ice packs, enough that they’re back in the “safe zone” that the nurse grudgingly described, so, barring another fever spike, Asahi should be fine.

Theoretically.

Noya still can’t sleep, though.

He stays awake, watching Asahi sleep. Asahi doesn’t move much in his sleep, but he does shift occasionally and every time his leg is jostled he makes this little noise and his face scrunches up in pain. Noya runs a cool washcloth over Asahi’s forehead every time it happens until Asahi's expression smooths out again.

Asahi's hair is a tangled mess, spread in dark lines across the sky blue pillowcase. Noya runs his fingers through it gently to brush it out, careful not to tug. He doesn’t want to cause Asahi any more pain. Asahi's hair is kind of sweaty from the fever, but it’s still soft on the pads of Noya's fingers as he slowly works through each tangle.

When he’s finished with that, he takes a moment to just look at Asahi.

Asahi is very attractive. Noya has been aware of that from the first moment that he saw him – once he got over the shock of finding an injured naked guy on the beach, that is. Noya isn’t shallow or anything, but he can’t deny that he has definitely noticed how attractive Asahi is.

Right now, though, all Noya can see is the flush of the fever on Asahi's skin and the little twitches of his body as the pain and the fever rage through him.

He smooths Asahi's hair away from his face a bit more, pressing the back of his hand to Asahi's forehead after. He doesn’t feel any hotter than he did a minute ago, but Noya doesn’t trust himself to judge it just with his hand. He takes Asahi's temperature with the thermometer the nurse left – again. He finds no change. It doesn’t do anything to settle the worry writhing in his gut.

Noya really, really doesn’t want Asahi to die. Asahi is kind and sweet and tough and lovely. If anyone doesn’t deserve this, it’s Asahi.

He has to keep getting up to redo the ice packs and to run the washcloth under the tap again, and every time he does he’s terrified that he’ll come back to find that Asahi's fever has spiked again and they will have to take him to the hospital after all and the doctors will figure out that Asahi isn’t, strictly speaking, human and then they’ll take Asahi away and lock him up and Asahi will hate Noya but more importantly he’ll be locked up somewhere as some kind of horrific science experiment until their hideous tests finally run their course and they burn his body to remove any evidence of their ghastly crime.

… Noya is very, very tired.

He can’t sleep, though, because he has to watch over Asahi. So that’s what he does. He changes the ice packs and he checks Asahi's temperature every few minutes and when Asahi becomes restless he soothes him with a cool washcloth or fingers gently running through his hair.

It is a very, very, very long night.

Something is tickling Noya's face. He tries to brush it away, but it just comes back again. After the fourth time that he tries and fails to get rid of whatever it is, he opens his eyes with a huff.

Oh.

Noya finds himself face to face with Asahi, who is still sleeping and whose hair has fallen into the space between the two of them, which presumably happened whenever it was that Asahi rolled over in his sleep to face Noya instead of lying on his back like he was when Noya fell asleep.

Noya does not remember falling asleep, but that is the least of his concerns right now.

Slowly, Noya reaches out and presses the back of his hand to Asahi's forehead.

Asahi's skin is tacky with mostly-dried sweat, but also normal-skin-warm instead of fever-hot like it was all last night. He shifts slightly at Noya's touch, mumbling something that Noya can’t make out.

Noya jerks his hand back, tucking it against his own chest. His heart is beating a bit fast, but a smile is stealing across his face, too.

Thank fuck the fever broke.

Now he just has to wait for Asahi to wake up so he can give him the aspirin that nurse recommended and check his wound again. He isn’t going to make the same mistake twice – he’d like to see another infection just try to slip by him.

He just needs Asahi to wake up.

Noya watches as Asahi breathes in and out evenly. He looks a little uncomfortable, maybe, but nothing like last night. He looks pretty peaceful, actually. And the rhythm of his breathing is soothing like the ocean.

Noya blinks heavily. His eyelids are dragging down, lulled by Asahi's even breathing and broken fever and healthily warm presence.

It isn’t like he needs to be awake anymore; the fever has broken and Asahi isn’t awake to take the pills yet, so there isn’t anything that Noya needs to do right now. He might as well rest his eyes for a moment.

Just for a moment, while Asahi is sleeping so peacefully.

Just for a moment, while it’s so warm in the bed with Asahi right there giving off only the kind of heat that a healthy body does.

Just for a moment, while Asahi's breathing moves in and out like the tide, his hair tickling Noya's face again.

Just for a –

“Wipe! Wipe! Wipe!” Saeko shouts, cupping her hands around her mouth as she heckles her brother.

Tanaka wobbles, tries to regain his balance, fails, and then, with a shout of his own, wipes out.

It’s a beautiful fall. Standing on the beach with his surfboard, Noya applauds. “Nice kill!” he calls out just as Tanaka surfaces, spitting water and glaring at Saeko.

Saeko, sitting astride her own surfboard on her way back out to catch another wave, hoots and pumps her fist in the air.

Tanaka grabs onto his board and throws a rude gesture at Saeko, who only laughs harder. “I call sabotage!” he cries.

“Get out of the kitchen if you can’t take the heat!” Saeko shouts. “This is how it’s done, boys!”

Her form really is the best out of any of them. She taught Tanaka and Noya both to surf, after all – it’s only natural that she can kick both their asses from here to Sunday on the waves.

“You sure you don’t wanna at least paddle out?” Noya asks Asahi again.

He’s offered three times now, but Asahi won’t take him up on it. Instead, Asahi is sticking to the beach with Kiyoko and Ukai, both of whom are making only superficial attempts at playing the parts of engaged and supportive significant others. Ukai, of course, brought a book, and Kiyoko has devoted her attention to shell-collecting instead of spectating. It’s to be expected, though; Saeko and Tanaka drag them to enough actual surfing competitions that cheering for a purely recreational contest on what is supposed to be a relaxing day at the beach probably doesn’t hold much interest for those who aren’t part of the game. Which is why Noya wants Asahi to at least paddle out with him a bit, to get a feel for it.

“No, thank you,” Asahi says, again, shaking his head even as his eyes track Saeko as she catches a decent-sized wave. He definitely looks interested, so it isn’t that he doesn’t think he’ll like it, Noya is pretty sure.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall in,” Noya promises. “We can keep your leg up on the board so it doesn’t get wet.”

“There is absolutely no way for you to go out there on a surfboard and not get the wound wet,” Kiyoko chimes in from slightly down the beach. “And that will cause another infection. It’s been a week since the injury, and less than that since the infection was dealt with.”

“I can keep it dry!” Noya protests. He knows he can. He’s a fantastic surfer. He isn’t as good as Saeko, obviously, but Saeko is basically a professional surfer, part time, so comparing himself to her isn’t really fair. Noya is absolutely certain that he can take Asahi out on the water without risking another infection. He wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Asahi says. He sounds apologetic about it, but also like he isn’t likely to change his mind.

Noya sighs. “All right,” he relents. “We’ll just sit on the beach, then.” He lets his board drop onto the sand and throws himself down onto one of the big beach towels that Ukai brought. Ukai gives him a look when some sand gets kicks up and dusts across the pages of his book. Noya makes an apologetic face at him.

“You can surf if you want to, Noya,” Asahi says. He looks down at Noya, shielding his eyes against the sun.

From this angle, he looks taller than ever, and his shoulders are ridiculous. The board shorts that Ukai lent him aren’t helping matters either – Noya had almost forgotten about Asahi's six pack, and now here it is again, staring Noya right in the face.

Like, how the hell is he supposed to cope with this?

Then Asahi shifts, still mindful of his leg though it’s healing well by all accounts, and his chest, where it’s still a bit wet because Tanaka splashed him from the shallows before heading out a few minutes ago, catches the sunlight and –

Noya looks away and clears his throat.

“Nah,” he says, casually. It mostly comes out normal-sounding. “I’d rather hang with you.” He sits up to make room for Asahi on his towel and then pats the spot next to him.

Asahi grins – holy shit – and gingerly lowers himself to sit beside Noya. Noya reaches out to help him, even though it isn’t really necessary. Asahi gives him another smile, tinged with gratitude, anyway. It’s even more devastating up close.

The thing about Asahi being on the mend is that Noya is back to where he was before Asahi was almost dying from a fever, except worse because now he knows exactly how soft Asahi's hair is and how warm his skin is – when he isn’t almost dying from a fever … and when he is – and now, a little over a week after they met, Noya also knows what a nice person Asahi is. All of these facts are making Noya's life just a bit difficult, because he still can’t tell if Asahi has any interest in him in that way or if Asahi is just lovely and friendly and thinks that Noya is his friend. Which is what Noya is. Obviously. Noya is Asahi's friend now, not just a stranger who is letting Asahi stay in his house, an upgrade that occurred sometime between two a.m. infomercials and Noya gently wiping sweat from Asahi's forehead while he fought a fever in Noya's bed.

Oh yeah, and they’ve been sleeping in the same bed ever since the fever, too.

The night after the fever, it was a just-in-case thing.

The next night, it was an accident – Asahi was tired, so Noya helped him get to bed, then they started talking again, and then they woke up next to each other the following morning with Asahi's hair in Noya's face and Noya's hand wrapped around Asahi's tee-shirt.

After that … Noya doesn’t really have an explanation, except that he really, really likes having someone to share the bed with and Asahi doesn’t seem to mind either.

Asahi is just so comfortable, is the thing. He feels more like an old friend than someone Noya met a week ago. It’s like when he met Tanaka in junior high, except that, aside from that one awkward week when they were both fourteen and Noya first found out what “bisexual” means, Noya has never had … thoughts … like these about Tanaka. They laugh about it now, of course, and they both agree that they wouldn’t change a thing – who better to have your first kiss with than your best bro, after all? – but Noya doesn’t want to laugh about this later. Noya wants to make out with Asahi later. And right now. He really, really, really wants to make out with Asahi right now.

Their shoulders are pretty much touching and the heat from Asahi's skin is making Noya antsy.

Asahi sat down close enough to Noya that their shoulders brush every time one of them shifts even slightly. Asahi keeps shifting, watching Saeko and Tanaka out on the water. It’s wonderful and maddening.

“Looks like rain,” Ukai says, conversationally.

Noya looks over at him. Ukai still has his nose buried in his book. Then Noya looks up at the sky.

It does look like rain.

When did that happen?

“It was sunny, like, two seconds ago!” Noya protests.

“It’s still sunny, the clouds are just moving in now,” Ukai says. He’s right. The sun is shining, but now that Noya has noticed the clouds they seem to be moving with alarming speed towards them. Ukai does not seem bothered; he calmly turns the page in his book. “We knew we wouldn’t get more than a few hours,” he says, continuing to read. “Might as well make the most of it.”

Noya did not know that they would only get a few hours. He came prepared for a day-long beach excursion, not an early-afternoon rainstorm.

A roll of thunder sounds, then, from much closer than Noya would like.

Ukai finally looks up. “Guess the storm’s a bit early,” he says. He starts gathering up the beach supplies, glancing up every few seconds. “Noya, give me a hand, would you?”

Noya waves Asahi off when he tries to get up to help – Asahi tries to help with everything, like he forgets that he’s injured and is therefore entitled to lazing around like there’s no tomorrow – and stuffs all of their snacks back into the cooler.

“Kiyoko!” Ukai shouts, waving his hand above his head. Down the beach, Kiyoko turns. “Storm!” Ukai calls, pointing up.

Kiyoko looks up, pauses, and then immediately begins making her way towards them at a rapid pace. She diverts slightly towards the water to call out to Saeko and Tanaka, both of whom flash her thumbs-up and wait for one last wave. When she reaches them, Kiyoko joins in the process of throwing everything together as quickly as possible while the thunder sounds again and the first drops of rain fall.

“Shit,” Ukai mutters, stuffing his book into the overflowing beach bag to keep it out of the rain. He turns, then, towards the water. “What the hell are they doing?”

Tanaka and Saeko are not coming in. Noya can see why – as the storm rolls in, the waves are getter bigger. Saeko must see them looking – or else she just knows they must be – because she waves in an all-good gesture.

“My girlfriend has a death wish,” Ukai says, flatly.

“I’m sure they’ll be in in a minute,” Kiyoko says. She sounds unconvinced, though, which would be because she knows as well as Noya and Ukai do that the Tanaka siblings believe in avoiding danger less than they believe in leprechauns. Actually, that’s not a very helpful measure – the Tanaka siblings believe very strongly in leprechauns and not at all in avoiding danger.

“What do you do on land when it storms?” Asahi asks, drawing Noya's attention back to him. He is still sitting on the towel – Noya doesn’t want to make him get up before he has to, with his leg and all – but he is fidgeting and glancing around in clear uneasiness.

“We usually try to get inside, find shelter,” Noya tells him. “Once we get back to the house, we’ll be fine.”

Asahi nods. “Okay,” he says. “I usually put my pelt on during storms – it’s safer that way.”

Noya knows that Asahi left his pelt at the house, though. And Asahi said that it’s a bad idea to put the pelt on when he’s this badly injured, anyway, since shifting back and forth tends to aggravate wounds and an injury like this is dangerous in the water.

“Look,” Ukai says, “we can’t just wait here for them.”

To emphasize his point, another peal of thunder rings out, much louder than before, and the rain ratchets up its intensity.

“Fuck this,” Kiyoko snaps. She shoves her bundle of towels at Noya, who grabs them and does some quick juggling to keep from dropping anything, and then takes off running towards the water, shouting all the way.

It takes about five seconds of her yelling at them from the edge of the water for Tanaka to begin paddling in. Saeko throws her hands up, obviously shouting something after him, and then follows him.

Noya passes off some of the towels to Ukai so that he can help Asahi up as Kiyoko comes storming back up the beach with Tanaka and Saeko hurrying behind her. Asahi then immediately takes the towels from Ukai, who has his hands too full to stop him.

“We’re gonna make a run for it, Asahi,” Noya protests. “You have enough to do with managing your leg.”

“I can carry towels, Noya,” Asahi returns. “I don’t need my arms to run.”

That’s not the point, but, when Noya attempts to take the towels from Asahi, Asahi simply lifts the stack of towels over his head and grins at Noya.

That should not be as hot as it is.

It’s just towels.

“Let’s go!” Kiyoko shouts, suddenly right next to Noya again and grabbing a bag off of him before taking off.

Everyone follows suit, Tanaka carrying his own and Noya's surfboard while Saeko helps Ukai with some of his baggage. Noya can hear her apologizing under her breath and Ukai saying something fond in an exasperated tone of voice. Tanaka looks grim, his gaze set on Kiyoko's back as she leads them all off the beach and back towards Noya's house.

Noya hangs back a little to keep pace with Asahi, who, of course, can’t quite keep up with everybody else.

“Okay?” Noya asks him, shouting a bit to make himself heard over the wind. This storm moved in alarmingly fast – the rain is coming down hard now, and the wind is whipping sand all around them.

Asahi nods, but his expression is pinched. He doesn’t protest when Noya grabs his arm, taking on some of his weight to help him move through the sand.

Getting back to the beach shack is awful. Noya and Asahi are the last ones there, but Tanaka is standing in the doorway waiting for them when they stagger up to the door. Saeko, Kiyoko, and Ukai are busy closing the windows.

Shit.

Noya left the windows open.

“Is everything ruined?” he asks, panting, as he and Asahi stumble across the threshold.

Tanaka shuts the door behind them, closing the worst of the noise from the wind and thunder outside. Noya helps Asahi to the couch and glances around, doing a quick visual check. It doesn’t look like too much got rained on. Other than a few stacks of paper for work – all stuff he can print out again – everything should be fine.

“I think you’re okay,” Saeko says. She pushes her hair back from her face with both hands. Then she laughs. “That came out of nowhere, huh?”

“I told you it was going to storm this morning when we left,” Ukai tells her. He drops onto the end of the couch that Asahi is not occupying.

“Uh-uh,” Noya tells him, shooing him up again. “No sitting on the couch in wet clothes.”

Asahi immediately makes to get up and Noya grabs his arm to stop him.

“Except for you, Asahi,” Noya hurries to add. “Because of your leg.”

“Where are we supposed to get dry clothes?” Ukai asks, rather sullenly. “Some of us didn’t wear bathing suits because we didn’t intend to get wet.”

“Well, all I have is a cover-up,” Saeko says, “which isn’t real clothes.”

“Not my problem,” Noya tells them both. He isn’t going to let them ruin his couch. It might be shitty, but it’s his, and he takes care of his things. Asahi can ruin his couch, though. Noya will let Asahi ruin anything he likes.

“Ryu and I have clothes,” Kiyoko says, digging around in one of the bags.

“We do?” Tanaka asks.

“Yes,” Kiyoko says. She finds what she’s looking for and holds up a sundress, a tee-shirt, and a pair of shorts. Noya is pretty sure that’s his tee-shirt, actually, which explains where it went.

“All right!” Tanaka cries. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best wife ever?” He leans over to kiss her, but Kiyoko holds up her hand, palm out, to stop him.

“And you’re an idiot who risked your life to catch a wave,” Kiyoko retorts. She holds the tee-shirt and shorts out to him, her expression set in disapproval.

“And you’re the beautiful wife who used my as-yet-un-adopted kid against me,” Tanaka says, putting on his most charming smile. Noya snorts. So that’s how she got them to come in. Unabashed, Tanaka takes the clothes and kisses the palm of Kiyoko's now-empty hand. “Even?” he asks, fluttering his eyelashes at her.

Kiyoko turns and heads for the bedroom with her sundress in-hand.

“Okay, okay,” Tanaka says, following her, “I’ll wash and dry for the next week, deal?”

Once the bedroom door closes behind them, Saeko sighs.

“That still doesn’t answer what we’re going to do for clothes,” she says. She looks at Noya. Then she sighs again – more loudly.

Noya rolls his eyes at her. “Fine, fine, you can borrow clothes.”

“Borrow them back, you mean,” Ukai says. “Since nothing that’s actually yours will fit me, I’ll just grab something that I brought over for Asahi.” He nods at Asahi, who nods back agreeably.

“I put everything in that basket over there,” Asahi says, indicating the laundry basket that Noya gave him to keep the clothes in.

Ukai goes over, picks out a handful of clothing items, and then heads for the bathroom – the only room in the house that has a door besides the bedroom – with Saeko trailing after him.

Now it’s just Noya and Asahi in the living room, dripping water onto the floor and the couch, respectively.

“Do you – um,” Noya fumbles a bit when Asahi turns to look at him. “Do you want to change?” Asahi is only wearing Ukai’s board shorts, so at least he doesn’t have much to change out of.

“Oh, yeah, good idea,” Asahi agrees. Then he stands up and strips down.

Noya feels his face flush and whips around to stare at the wall.

“Are you going to change, too?” Asahi asks. He sounds closer than he did a second ago; he probably walked over to get some clothes out of the basket … which Noya is standing right next to.

Noya shuffles to the side a bit, but his foot catches on something and he almost trips. He catches himself at the last minute. His blush goes even darker, he’s sure, when he feels Asahi grab his arm to steady him.

“Are you okay, Noya?” Asahi asks, sounding concerned.

“Yep!” Noya chirps. He does not sound normal, but there’s no helping that. “Just fine! I’m just – ah – waiting for Ryu and Kiyoko to come out of the bedroom, since that’s, you know, where my clothes are. Yeah.”

Noya can’t tell if Asahi is still naked or not. He’s afraid to look. He’s also afraid to move further away in case he trips again. He does not need a repeat of the day everybody met Asahi. He really doesn’t.

“Okay,” Asahi says. There is some rustling, which Noya assumes is Asahi putting on clothes.

Noya had almost forgotten about Asahi's total lack of self-consciousness when it comes to being nude. No, that’s a lie. Noya hasn’t forgotten at all. After Kiyoko told Asahi that it’s considered polite to wear clothes in land-based society, Noya then had to tell Asahi that it’s considered normal to take your clothes off when you shower and to then put new, clean clothes on afterward. The practice is obviously unintuitive for Asahi, who has confessed that he doesn’t see the point of clothes, himself. It’s been a learning process. There have been … incidents.

Noya is a good person, though. He is a gentleman. He never looks – on purpose – and he would never take advantage of Asahi.

He just wishes he could get a read on what Asahi is thinking in the middle of all of this, because if the hot guy staying in his house was anyone other than a seal-man with an obvious complete lack of awareness of social norms, Noya would think that he was being flirted with. But he isn’t, obviously. Probably. Almost definitely not.

“All right, now what do we have to eat?” Tanaka says, loudly announcing his and Kiyoko's return to the room.

“I’ll be right back,” Noya mumbles, making a bee-line for his bedroom. So he can get changed. That’s all.

Tanaka and Kiyoko are holding hands and stealing glances at each other again, so they’ve obviously worked out the tension they left the room with a few minutes ago.

“Food?” Tanaka asks as Noya passes him.

“Probably,” Noya agrees. “Kitchen, if there’s anything.”

Tanaka nods. “Right,” he says, marching off towards the kitchen.

Kiyoko goes over to where Asahi is lowering himself back onto the couch. Asahi smiles at her, and then his gaze slides past her to catch Noya. His smile gets just a bit wider.

Noya ducks into his room and very carefully closes the door behind himself.

He needs to get a hold of himself. Asahi is not flirting – Asahi probably doesn’t know how to flirt. The man is half seal, for fuck’s sake. Do seals flirt? Do seals date?

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because Asahi is Noya's guest, and he has no idea what he’s doing when he strips naked in Noya's living room and then smiles at him like that, and Noya will not take advantage of Asahi – he will not allow his little crush to get the better of him.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh, he has a crush.

The rain lets up in the late afternoon and everybody heads home shortly after that. They spent the day playing charades and telephone and any other dumb game they could come up with – Tanaka and Kiyoko had a lot of them up their sleeves, because most of their couple friends already have kids and apparently this is the kind of thing you do when you can’t drink because the baby might need you.

Noya has very deliberately not allowed himself to be alone with Asahi since his revelation earlier. He knew that he finds Asahi attractive – who wouldn’t, objectively? – but he didn’t realize he had crossed the line at some point from “I’d like to make out with your face” to “I’d like to make out with your face and also stare deeply into your gorgeous brown eyes and hold your hand while we walk along the beach in the evening.”

Fuck.

Now, though, they are alone. And Noya has no idea what to do.

Normally, when he likes someone, he just goes for it. He puts himself out there and hopes for the best, because life is short and when you really want something you just gotta go for it.

With Asahi, though?

There are a lot of very good reasons that Noya should not ask Asahi out.

For one, Asahi is relying on Noya to keep him safe while his leg heals and Noya doesn’t want Asahi thinking that Noya thinks that Asahi owes him anything for this. If Noya asks Asahi out, Asahi might feel like he can’t say no, even if he doesn’t like Noya back, and Noya honestly can’t think of anything that would be worse than that.

For another, Asahi is a seal-man. This should be a problem. Noya is, like, eighty percent sure about that.

Also, there are other reasons, but Noya is tired of thinking about it all. He just wants a nap.

So that’s what he does – he leaves Asahi sitting in front of the TV with a mumbled excuse about a long day and waking up in thirty minutes, and then he goes into his bedroom, closes the door, and falls into bed.

He doesn’t wake up for nearly four hours.

Noya wakes up groggy.

He doesn’t usually nap – he usually powers through the day, no matter how little sleep he’s had, and then collapses at the end of it. Napping is so disorienting.

When he stumbles out of his room, he is immediately hit by the smell.

Burning.

His eyes shoot open, feeling much more awake in a second as he scrambles towards the kitchen.

“Asahi?” Noya shouts, dodging around the sofa.

Asahi's head pokes up above the breakfast bar. “Ah,” he says, sheepishly. “You’re awake.”

Noya skids around the breakfast bar and catches himself on the edge of it, jerking himself to a stop. He surveys the damage.

Asahi is sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by what looks like every bowl and cup Noya owns, all of which are at least partially filled with … who knows what. There is flour on the floor, and in some of the bowls, and all over Asahi.

Then Noya looks at the oven.

“What the hell?”

The oven is wide open, sending wave and wave of heat into the kitchen – that would be why Asahi is sweating so much, then, and why his hair is sticking to his skin – as an unrecognizable something inside it smokes.

“What are you doing?” Noya demands. He carefully steps around Asahi and his cups and bowls to get to the oven, turning it off quickly and then reaching for the fire extinguisher beneath the sink just in case.

“Baking,” Asahi says.

Noya stares at him.

“Sorry,” Asahi says, hurriedly. “I wanted to do something nice for you, since you’ve been so great, and I thought I’d make dinner, but I don’t actually know how to use any of this. I thought I might be able to wing it, but …” he trails off, gesturing around at the incredible mess he’s made.

It really is an incredible mess. But, more importantly –

“You were making me dinner?” Noya asks, dumbfounded.

“I was trying to,” Asahi says. He tries to smile, but it’s wobbly. That’s when Noya notices the slight red tint to his eyes and nose.

He’s been crying, or if he hasn’t he’s been close to it.

Noya looks around again. This mess is overwhelming to him, and he only just got here. Asahi has no idea what he’s doing, but he dove in anyway to try to do something nice for Noya. Something really nice.

Asahi sniffs and rubs at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. He meets Noya's eyes again and smiles, still a little wobbly. “Sorry,” he says again.

“Don’t be,” Noya says.

Sure, playing with an oven when you don’t know what you’re doing is dangerous and a bit stupid, but Noya's done plenty of dangerous and stupid things himself. And, usually, his dangerous and stupid things aren’t simultaneously this thoughtful and well-intentioned. Usually when Noya does dangerous and stupid, it’s to make Tanaka laugh or join in with him, not to do something sweet for someone else.

And, despite the mess and the almost-fire, this is still really, really sweet.

“I’ll clean all of this up,” Asahi assure him. “And then I can just make sandwiches – I know how to do that.”

“Nah,” Noya says, making a quick decision. “I have a better idea. You ever had an omelet?”

Asahi has not ever had an omelet. But, like with most other things Noya has introduced him to, he is eager to try it.

First, they clean up the mess. Mostly this consists of Noya making Asahi sit on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and not move while Noya dumps everything – including the still-smoking whatever-it-is – into the sink. Then Noya gets out the eggs and a frying pan and all of the bits of meat and vegetables he has in the fridge.

He lets Asahi out of his seat to come flip the omelets. He hands over the spatula and makes to move out of the way, but Asahi just leans over him and does it.

Noya freezes.

“Is that right?” Asahi asks, looking down at the frying pan where the egg is slowly heating, just like Noya's face.

“Yep,” Noya says. His voice sounds weird. He hopes it isn’t too obvious. “That was perfect.”

“You’re a good teacher,” Asahi says immediately, smiling down at Noya.

Fucking hell. If it was anyone else, Noya would swear that was flirting.

Because it isn’t anyone else, though, it’s Asahi, Noya just swallows the lump in his throat, nods, and smiles.

Asahi is an eager student. They make thirteen omelets, Asahi getting up to flip each one over Noya's shoulder, and they eat seven of them; the rest go in the fridge as leftovers.

Noya adds the frying pan to the pile in the sink once they’re done – he’s already started leaving this mess for later; he might as well commit – and then helps Asahi over to the couch to check and re-dress his wound. He is forcing himself to meet Asahi's eyes as he cuts away the bandage. He is forcing himself to not let his stupid, silly crush make this weird. Asahi did something nice for him – or tried to, anyway – and then they had a moment – or didn’t have a moment, probably – while making dinner together. That doesn’t have to make this weird. It’s only weird if Noya lets it be weird. Asahi isn’t making it weird. Noya needs to not make it weird.

Scrounging about for something to think about other than Asahi's calves, Noya remembers Asahi's “trove.” He forgot about it with the whole Asahi-almost-dying-from-a-fever thing, and he hasn’t thought about it since.

“Hey, so what’s a trove?” Noya asks.

Asahi's forehead wrinkles in confusion. “You don’t have troves on land?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Noya says. “I don’t think so. Tell me what it is and I’ll know if we do or not.”

“It’s where you keep your things, so no one will take them,” Asahi says. “That’s why it has to be kept secret.”

“Is theft a big problem for selkies?” Noya asks. The idea is pretty funny: underwater crime. Noya pictures mermaids wearing black ski masks and laughs.

Asahi looks confused again. “What’s theft?”

Noya stops cleaning Asahi's wound to stare at him. “You know,” Noya says, waving a hand around in a general sort of way, “stealing. Taking other people’s stuff.”

“Oh,” Asahi says, his expression clearing. He nods. “Yeah, everyone does that. That’s why you have to hide your trove.”

“So stealing is just normal?” Noya asks. He can’t imagine having to hide all of his stuff under a sofa to keep people from stealing it. That’s what houses are for.

“Yeah,” Asahi says. “It’s only yours as long as you have it; if someone takes it, then it’s theirs.”

“I guess possession is the whole law under the sea,” Noya comments. That explains why Asahi keeps taking his things and hiding them under the sofa. As far as Asahi is concerned, everything he took now belongs to him. “Hey, you know it doesn’t work like that here on land, right?” Noya says. “Here, we believe in ownership. Just so you know. In case you ever go out, once your leg is healed.”

Asahi just looks at him. Obviously, he doesn’t know that.

“Taking something doesn’t make it yours,” Noya explains. “Not on land. It still belongs to whoever you took it from, and taking it without asking is bad.”

Asahi's expression goes from confused to shocked to upset in seconds. “I took all of your stuff,” he says, as if just now realizing that. He bends forward and puts his hand on Noya's wrist, meeting Noya's eyes with a contrite expression. “I’m so sorry, Noya. I thought if you wanted it, you could just take it back.”

“Well, yeah, I could,” Noya says. Asahi's eyes are stunning, though Noya wishes he didn’t look so upset. His hand is pleasantly warm on Noya’s wrist. Noya glances down to see Asahi's hand touching him, not just feel it, which is when he realizes that he isn’t working on Asahi's wound anymore. He clears his throat and gets back to cleaning it, unfortunately but necessarily dislodging Asahi's hand as he does so. Asahi pulls back, still looking a bit distressed. “It’s fine,” Noya says, reassuring Asahi but not looking up at him; he keeps his focus on re-bandaging the wound. “It’s different because we’re staying in the same house. It’s still kind of frowned upon to take people’s things without asking, but I don’t mind it. I do need you to stop taking my alarm clock, though. I kind of need that.”

“Of course,” Asahi says eagerly. “I should have known there would be other cultural differences besides this.” He plucks at the shirt he’s wearing.

“Yeah, I know it isn’t super fun for you, dealing with that,” Noya says. He dares a glance up, then, to meet Asahi's eyes; he wants to show his sincerity. “But thanks for doing it.” He doesn’t know what he’d do if Asahi was still walking around naked all the time. He probably would have had a heart attack by now.

“I don’t really mind it much anymore,” Asahi says, staring back at Noya. His expression is serious, but not anxious or upset anymore, just – serious. “It’s strange and different,” he says, softly, holding Noya's gaze, “but not … bad. I actually kind of like it.”

Noya swallows. “Right,” he says. He quickly drops his eyes back to the bandaging he’s supposed to be doing.

It only takes another minute or so and then Asahi is all set once again. It’s about the time that Asahi usually goes to bed – just after sunset – so Noya helps him to the bathroom to brush his teeth, brushing his own while he’s there, and then to the bedroom.

Asahi strips off his shirt – something Noya mentioned during the “when it is appropriate to wear or not wear clothing” discussion was that many people sleep shirtless, and Asahi seized upon the idea immediately – and sits on the bed.

Noya stands there for a moment, awkwardly, unsure of what to do. They’ve shared the bed for the past week, but tonight has been … weird. Not on Asahi's end, of course, but on Noya's end there has been definite stoking of the crush fires. He probably shouldn’t stay.

“Will you stay?” Asahi asks him, looking up at him from under his eyelashes on the foot of the bed.

“Okay,” Noya says.

He takes his shirt off too, because if he’s indulging himself in this one, small, tiny, harmless way, then he’s going to indulge himself hard. And besides, sleeping shirtless isn’t a big deal – as long as Noya doesn’t make it weird, it isn’t weird.

Asahi's face lights up – oh god, there’s that smile again – and he shuffles back on the bed, watching Noya. He pulls the covers down, slides under them, and then holds them up so that Noya can get in too, which Noya does.

It isn’t weird if Noya doesn’t make it weird.

They’re just friends.

Friends do this. He shared beds with Tanaka all the time growing up. This isn’t weird.

This isn’t weird.

It isn’t anything at all.

Noya turns off the lamp by the bed, casting the room into near darkness; the moon is mostly full outside, though, and the curtains are open. Noya can still see Asahi lying beside him, though the edges of him are softened, blurred like an impressionist’s painting.

Their shoulders brush as they both settle, like on the beach except that instead of warm sunlight falling down on them, the counterpoint to the touch is the cool of the sheets, making Noya feel warmer than ever.

Asahi turns onto his side, facing Noya. Noya stays on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He can feel Asahi's hair tickling his neck because Asahi's hair tends to fan out when he’s lying down, like one of those stupid cliché movie posters with a girl lying in the grass under the clouds or something. Asahi looks way prettier in the barely-there moonlight coming in through the window than any movie poster girl Noya's ever seen, though. His heart is beating fast; he wonders if Asahi can hear it. He directs his gaze back to the ceiling and closes his eyes.

“Goodnight, Noya,” Asahi whispers. His voice is blurred, too; another impression, Noya's own feelings layered over Asahi's hushed words.

“Goodnight, Asahi,” Noya whispers back.

In the quiet that follows, he can hear Asahi breathing in and out, in and out, steady and soothing like the tide. Noya matches him, in and out, in and out, and, slowly, the tide carries him out to sea.

Asahi’s leg is healing really nicely. Noya is diligent about keeping the wound clean and bandaged properly to prevent another infection, and, two weeks after the initial injury, Asahi seems to be right where he should be in the healing process. Tanaka’s nurse friend is coming by again tonight to check it, which will be good, but Noya's feeling pretty confident that everything is exactly as it should be.

This is a problem, because it means that soon Asahi will be gone and out of Noya's life potentially forever.

Noya wants Asahi healed, of course. He wants Asahi to stop limping and to not be in any pain or discomfort whatsoever and to be able to live his own life again instead of being trapped and dependent on Noya. Noya wants all of those things for Asahi. … He just doesn’t want Asahi to leave.

He has at least this weekend with Asahi, though. By next weekend, his leg may be completely healed and Asahi might be gone, but Noya will at least have tomorrow and Sunday to spend with Asahi. He intends to make the most of it.

“Asahi, I’m going to work now,” Noya announces, stepping outside the house.

Asahi is sitting on the ground in front of the house, staring out towards the ocean. The view isn’t incredible, but the ocean is visible – barely – from here. Asahi has spent a lot of time over the last few days, ever since the infection cleared up and he started feeling better, sitting here watching the sea. He looks up at Noya and smiles.

“Have a good day,” he says. “Oh, but, before you go –” He gets up – Noya reaches out to steady him out of habit, which makes Asahi smile at him all soft and beautiful – and then limps over to the pile of beach stuff that Noya hasn’t actually touched in over a year. Asahi reaches down and pulls a pair of flip-flops from the pile, holding them up and looking at Noya expectantly. “What are these?” he asks.

“Flip-flops,” Noya says. He eyes them, noting the discoloration on the plastic, the worn-through sole that looks like it has been chewed on by at least one type of animal, and the fraying strap. He had totally forgotten that those were out here. They probably aren’t salvageable, at this point.

“They are so cool,” Asahi says.

He’s staring at them, enthralled, as they sit, ratty and honestly pretty gross-looking, in his hands. Selkies are a weird bunch. Asahi sets the flip-flops gently on top of the pile of beach junk, then, still staring at them. He looks a bit wistful. He probably wants to hide them under the couch, in his trove, but he’s been very mindful of what Noya told him about land-based ownership rules and stealing. Noya hasn’t bothered to take back any of the things already in Asahi’s trove – it’s mostly junk, and it seems to make Asahi happy, so Noya is just fine leaving it all where it is – and Asahi hasn’t put any of it back either, aside from Noya's alarm clock, but he has stopped adding to his trove.

Noya doesn’t really want those gross flip-flops in the house, but he thinks he has a way to put a smile on Asahi's face anyway. And Noya is very, very interested in putting a smile on Asahi's face. It’s such a nice smile. And such a nice face.

“Hey, so I’m gonna be a bit late getting home today,” Noya tells Asahi.

Asahi looks up from the pile of junk, his forehead wrinkled. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah, I just have an errand to run,” Noya assures him. “It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.” He can probably do it in that time – it really shouldn’t take long.

“Okay,” Asahi says. “I’ll see you at five thirty, then?”

“Yep,” Noya says. “About, at least. I’ll call if it’s gonna be later.” He replaced his phone last week, upgraded to a shiny new model and everything, so that he and Asahi can be in touch when Noya is out of the house. And, you know, so other people can call him, too.

He needs to go or he’ll be late for work, so he goes.

Asahi waves him off, standing just outside the beach shack, the slight breeze rustling his hair and the loose-fitting white tee-shirt he’s wearing.

Noya fixes his eyes to the front and hurries away. He does not think about how domestic and lovely Asahi looks standing there. He does not think about how excited he is to come home tonight to find Asahi waiting for him. He does not think about how very screwed he is when it comes to his – utterly failing – quest to conquer or, barring that, ignore his steadily growing crush on Asahi.

He thinks about boring paperwork.

And about Asahi's smile.

And about flip-flops.

Finding the perfect pair is easy – Noya just looks for the absolute most garish thing in the shop in the largest size available. He is on his way up to the register when he sees the actual perfect pair, though, and he swaps out the sun-wearing-sunglasses-design hot pink rhinestone monstrosities for a pair of pretty plain green ones with a comfortable-looking strap.

Then he picks up the ugly pink ones again as well.

Noya is a man who commits to things, after all. If he’s buying Asahi flip-flops, he might as well buy two pairs. Two pairs isn’t more transparent than one pair.

… Is it?

Not that it matters, because this isn’t actually a romantic gesture. Noya may have … feelings … but that isn’t what this is about. Noya isn’t trying to woo Asahi, because they are just friends and Asahi is Noya's guest and also a seal-man. Noya is only buying Asahi flip-flops to make him smile – in a totally platonic way. Mostly. Almost entirely. People buy things for their friends all the time. It isn’t weird.

It isn’t weird if Noya doesn’t make it weird.

But then –

Does it hurt to hint?

Noya would never make the first move, given things being what they are, which is so fucking bizarre for him – he is definitely a make-the-first-move kind of guy, a take-the-leap kind of guy, a put-yourself-out-there kind of guy – but he can’t do that with Asahi. Asahi is a seal-man who is relying on Noya to help him, and Noya cannot risk making Asahi feel pressured into anything. That would be horrible. So Noya can’t make the first move. … But maybe he can hint.

He grabs a third pair of flip-flops before he can change his mind. It’ll be subtle – not a declaration or anything – but, well.

Whatever.

Noya pays for the three pairs of flip-flops and shoves the bag under his arm, determined not to think about it anymore. Overthinking never gets him anywhere. He is a man of action. Hopefully, this will make Asahi smile, and if it communicates something else in a totally subtle, no pressure type of way, then that’ll be great too. But it probably won’t. Because Asahi isn’t thinking about him that way, which is totally fine. They’re friends. This is a friend thing.

It’s totally fine.

When Asahi opens the plastic shopping bag and sees what’s inside, he does smile and it’s glorious.

“They’re beautiful,” Asahi says, a note of awe in his voice. He pulls the top of the bag open wider, staring down into it where it is sitting on his lap.

“They’re yours,” Noya tells him. He can’t stop grinning. He also can’t stop fidgeting. This is not a romantic gesture, of course, but it still feels ridiculously bold compared to how carefully Noya has kept a lid on his growing feelings in every other instance. He hopes Asahi gets the hint. It’s fine if he doesn’t, but … Noya hopes he does.

Asahi looks up. “Mine?” he asks. “You mean they belong to me?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,’ Noya says, nodding. “I bought them for you, and now they’re yours. You can leave them anywhere you want and no one will take them. You don’t even have to hide them in your trove if you don’t want to, and they’ll still be yours.”

“Wow,” Asahi says. He looks down into the bag again. “Your culture is so weird,” he says, thoughtfully, “but –” he looks up, meeting Noya's eyes; god, he’s smiling again, that outrageously beautiful smile “– I like it.”

Noya swallows. “Good,” he says. He sounds weird. He clears his throat.

“They really are beautiful,” Asahi says, still holding Noya's gaze. “Thank you.” Then he releases the bag with one hand and reaches out towards Noya. Noya's breath freezes. Asahi brushes his fingers against the back of Noya's hand, so gently, still holding Noya in place with his eyes, still smiling that obscenely stunning smile, but with something … soft stealing into his expression – something that Noya isn’t about to let himself try to identify.

“You’re welcome,” Noya says – whispers, whatever – doing his best to smile back at Asahi. It’s difficult to do that, though, when it feels like all of the air has been squeezed out of his lungs.

After a moment, Asahi looks away, still smiling, and turns his attention back to the bag of flip-flops.

Noya inhales deeply, feeling lightheaded.

Damn, this crush is out of control.

“Ooh, these are so pretty!” Asahi exclaims, pulling the ugly pink rhinestone pair out of the bag. He holds them up with one hand, letting them dangle from his fingers and catch the heavy evening sunlight that is coming in through the open windows. The rhinestones sparkle dully, plastic and cheap-looking. Asahi's expression, though, is golden.

“I thought you’d like those,” Noya says, managing a mostly normal, lighthearted tone. “I know how much you like the rhinestone mug, so I thought you’d probably like those, too.”

“I do,” Asahi says, nodding. He sets that pair on the coffee table, then, and reaches back into the bag for another.

Noya feels a rush of nerves, waiting to see which pair he pulls out. He relaxes again when Asahi brandishes the green ones.

“I like these, too,” Asahi declares. He runs the soft fabric strap between his fingers, looking pleased. Then he reaches back into the bag.

Noya tenses.

“I like the color,” Asahi says, turning the flip-flops this way and that, “but what’s this?” He points to the design that has been printed on the bright red flip-flops right where the heel goes.

Noya did not account for Asahi not knowing what a heart is. He was hoping Asahi would laugh and blow it off as just another silly pair of flip-flops … or realize what Noya is trying to say and maybe start thinking about that a little, in a no pressure way, until he ultimately realizes that he has feelings for Noya, too. But of course Asahi doesn’t know what a heart is. It doesn’t look anything like a real heart, and Noya doesn’t know where Asahi would have seen a heart symbol in the ocean.

He can just blow it off himself, of course. He can make it not a thing at all.

He doesn’t want to.

But maybe he should.

Maybe –

“Noya?” Asahi asks, looking at Noya with this intensity and softness and those lovely brown eyes and –

Fuck it.

“It’s a heart,” Noya says. His voice sounds really, really weird now. He clears his throat – again. “It symbolizes … things … in land-based culture.”

“What things?” Asahi asks, predictably.

“Um,” Noya says, looking away, out the window, at the ceiling fan, anywhere but at Asahi, “feelings things. About how you feel. About other people.”

“Oh,” Asahi says.

Noya can feel himself blushing. This whole hinting thing is so much more difficult than just telling people how you feel flat-out. Noya has never been this uncertain and quick to blush and – and – and uncertain about a crush before in his life. He’s never felt like this before in his life, which is stupid and ridiculous because he’s only known Asahi for about two weeks. Noya tends to go hard and fast in all things, and liking people is no exception, but it’s never been quite like this before. But then, he’s never met anyone quite like Asahi before, kind and gentle and thoughtful and tough and sweet. And stunningly attractive – can’t forget that. Noya is a big believer in following his instincts. He and Asahi just seem to click, and Noya isn’t one to ignore that kind of thing or toss it aside.

But, still, two weeks – even two weeks of spending every moment that Noya isn’t at work together, having his life saved, trying to keep Asahi from dying during that horrible fever, cooking together and talking and falling asleep listening to Asahi breathe slow and steady – isn’t very long.

And, also, Asahi is a seal-man, and Noya should probably have a problem with that. Possibly.

Then Asahi speaks, hesitant and low, and everything else kind of … falls away.

“Does it –” Asahi says, and then stops.

Noya looks at him, reflexively. Asahi is staring at him. Asahi is blushing, too. It makes Noya blush all over again in response.

“Does it represent good feelings?” Asahi asks, quietly.

Asahi's eyes are huge right now. His hand is resting on his knee, so close to where Noya has his own legs folded beneath him on the adjacent sofa cushion, and Noya wants – just a bit desperately – to reach out and hold that hand in his own.

“Very good feelings,” Noya says, also quietly. The air in the room is pressing down on him, like if he speaks too loudly or moves too quickly, everything will collapse inward on top of him.

“Because I may have some feelings,” Asahi murmurs. His eyes move across Noya's face, searching, mesmerizing.

The air gets heavier.

“But I don’t want to assume,” Asahi continues, his voice dropping lower than ever. “Especially since you’ve been so kind to me, letting me stay with you and taking care of me. You’ve been so wonderful. You are so wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful, too,” Noya tells him. It’s a massive understatement. Asahi made him dinner – or tried to, anyway – and he’s been nothing but polite and lovely ever since he risked his life to rescue Noya in spite of his fears about being seen by a human.

Asahi has his injured leg propped on the coffee table, like usual, and his chest is only half facing Noya while Noya sits sideways on the sofa to face Asahi. It’s a bit of a weird angle to be leaning in like this, but they are, they’re leaning in, oh god, they’re so close, Noya feels light and hot and incredible, watching Asahi's eyes as they come closer –

Closer –

Closer –

Closer –

And then –

“Shouldn’t we have called ahead?”

The voice shatters the moment, sends the air crashing down on top of Noya and Asahi, and they both jerk back.

Asahi collides with the armrest and yanks his foot off of the coffee table, letting out a strangled gasp of surprise and pain as he does it.

Noya falls off the couch.

“They know I’m coming, and we were nearby so we might as well do it now,” a second voice says, sounding vaguely familiar, just before a series of knocks sounds out from the front door. “Hey, Nishinoya,” the person calls, loudly. “You home?”

“Who the fuck is there?” Noya shouts back. He picks himself up off the floor and looks at Asahi, worried about his leg. Asahi smiles at him, looking slightly strained, and gingerly lifts his leg back up to return it to its propped position.

“It’s Tsukishima,” the person calls back, which doesn’t actually tell Noya who it is. He doesn’t know anyone named Tsukishima.

Noya goes to the door, casting one more glance at Asahi as he goes, and then opens it to find two men standing just outside his door. Oh. Right.

“Tanaka’s nurse friend,” Noya says, nodding at Tsukishima. He remembers him – Tsukishima is the guy who helped Asahi when his fever spiked. Tsukishima is carrying a medical kit again, just like he did when he came to help Asahi before. The man standing next to him is carrying a Tupperware container.

“Right,” Tsukishima says, somehow managing to sound scathingly sarcastic even as he agrees with Noya. “Tanaka said I’d be by today, right?”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d be by later,” Noya says. “Not … now.”

“We were in the neighborhood,” Tsukishima says. He looks over Noya's head, into the house, and then looks down at Noya. Noya scowls at him; he hates smugly tall people. “Can we come in, or is the patient supposed to limp out here to see me?” he asks.

Noya steps aside and gestures Tsukishima and his friend inside. They both remove their shoes politely just inside the door. The friend looks around with obvious curiosity.

“I’m Nishinoya Yuu,” Noya introduces himself. “Pretty much everyone calls me Noya.”

“Kageyama Tobio,” the friend says, just a bit stiffly.

“Are you a nurse too?” Noya asks him.

“No, he’s my boyfriend,” Tsukishima says. As if to demonstrate this fact, he grabs Kageyama's hand and tows him along as he makes his way over to the couch, where Asahi is still sitting. Kageyama follows him without complaint. “So, Asahi,” Tsukishima says, his lazily snide tone dropping into something much more professional as he sits on the coffee table to examine Asahi's leg, “how is your wound feeling?” He releases Kageyama's hand so that he can begin peeling back the bandages on Asahi's leg, first setting his medical kit on the coffee table beside him and snapping on a pair of disposable rubber gloves.

“It doesn’t hurt too much anymore,” Asahi says. “I think it’s healing.”

“Well, you’re not a medical professional, so forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” Tsukishima says. He finishes unwinding the bandage and pulls it away, then holds the dirty bandage out.

Noya darts forward and takes it, then throws it away in the kitchen trash. He washes his hands quickly and hurries back. When he comes back to stand beside the couch a few moments later, Tsukishima is in the process of cleaning Asahi's wound.

“It does look much better than the last time I saw it,” Tsukishima says, not looking up from his work.

“Awesome!” Noya says, exchanging grins with Asahi.

“But,” Tsukishima continues, “given that the last time I saw it it was badly infected, that isn’t saying much. It’ll be at least another week before it’s fully healed, got it?”

“Yes,” Asahi says, nodding seriously. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” Tsukishima says. “The last thing you need is another infection. But, barring that, it should heal just fine from here.” He finishes cleaning the wound and pulls a bandage out of his medical kit. He wraps the wound much faster than Noya has ever been able to do it, and much more neatly, too. When he’s done, he strips off the rubber gloves, turning them inside out as he does so, and looks around the room. Noya points him towards the trash can in the kitchen. Tsukishima gets up and goes to throw the gloves away.

“So do you make house calls with Tsukishima a lot?” Noya asks Kageyama, who has been standing – or maybe looming is a more apt word – silently beside Tsukishima this whole time.

Kageyama shakes his head. “Kei doesn’t make very many house calls,” he says. “But he was really worried about Asahi, so he agreed to do a follow-up, even though it isn’t an emergency this time.”

“He didn’t have to worry,” Asahi says, sounding a bit embarrassed. “I’m fine.”

“Kei said you almost died,” Kageyama says, bluntly. “He cares a lot about his patients.”

Noya is surprised that Tsukishima was actively worried about Asahi. He seemed pretty aloof when he was here before, and Asahi really was in bad shape then. Noya is glad – not that Tsukishima was worried, but that Tsukishima cares enough about Asahi, or at least about Asahi's wellbeing, to give him any thought at all outside of when he was physically tending to him. It’s nice to know that the medical professional Noya entrusted Asahi's care to gives a damn.

“Quit lying to them and let’s go,” Tsukishima says, coming back into the room and standing next to Kageyama. He nods at Noya. “Keep doing what you’re doing and he’ll be fine.” Then he looks at Asahi. “Be careful and keep it clean and you’ll be fine. Either of you – call me if anything changes; Tanaka has my number.”

“I’ll call you with an update at the end of the week,” Noya promises.

“Don’t,” Tsukishima says. “Only call me if anything changes.” He scoops up his medical kit and then tugs on Kageyama's shirt sleeve, taking a step towards the door. “We’ll leave you two alone now,” he says. “Seriously, don’t call me unless he starts dying.”

Kageyama resists Tsukishima's tugging just long enough to open his Tupperware container – which he has been basically clutching to his chest this entire time – and give Asahi and Noya each a chocolate chip cookie from the stash inside. Noya takes his eagerly – it smells amazing. Asahi is a bit more tentative, holding it gingerly between two fingers.

“Yamaguchi made them,” Kageyama says, not that Noya or Asahi know who that is, “so I’m sure they’re really good.”

“They’re also intended for us,” Tsukishima says.

“Asahi is injured,” Kageyama says, snapping the lid back into place on his Tupperware. “And Noya deserves one for taking such good care of him.” He nods at Asahi and then at Noya.

“I agree,” Noya says. He takes a big bite of his cookie, grinning at Tsukishima as he does it.

Oh fuck, that’s good.

“Shit, that’s amazing,” Noya says – or, he tries to say it, but mostly it comes out as mumbling and crumbs.

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. He tugs on Kageyama's sleeve again, and, this time, Kageyama follows him to the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Kageyama,” Asahi calls, waving, from the couch. “You too, Tsukishima; thank you for your help.”

“Just try to not die of a completely preventable infection,” Tsukishima says back, before opening Noya's door and pulling Kageyama through it.

The sound of the door slamming behind them seems to hang in the air, which is once again heavy around them.

Noya looks at Asahi.

Asahi is looking at the cookie that Kageyama gave him with a curious but distrustful expression.

Then he looks up and meets Noya's eyes. All of the air that was pressing down on Noya suddenly vanishes, leaving him lightheaded.

“So,” Noya says, unsure of what exactly he’s going to say.

“Yes?” Asahi asks immediately, staring at Noya with his big brown eyes and his hair all loose and soft around his shoulders and his shoulders all broad and firm-looking beneath his tee-shirt.

Noya looks away.

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asks, lightly, looking over at his DVD collection.

His heart is beating fast and his palms are sweaty. He wants to bring up what was happening – or what he thinks was happening – before Tsukishima and Kageyama interrupted them, but … if he’s wrong about what he thinks was happening, then it’ll ruin everything. And he just can’t risk being wrong about this.

“Sure,” Asahi says. He sounds a little disappointed. Or maybe that’s Noya's imagination.

Noya picks a DVD at random and pops it into the player, then heads for the kitchen, calling over his shoulder that he’ll make them both sandwiches for dinner to eat while they watch.

Asahi responds somewhat vaguely. The edge of frustration in his voice must be Noya projecting.

They eat their sandwiches and they watch the movie and neither of them says anything about what was – or wasn’t – happening earlier. Noya keeps a careful distance between the two of them on the couch to keep his imagination from running wild on him when he’s distracted by the movie and the way the glow from the screen lights Asahi's face in the fading light of the day.

He looks away before he can forget himself and lean in again.

He looks away every time.

They still share the bed that night.

When Noya helps Asahi to the bed, Asahi touches Noya's hand – his palm, gliding his fingers along Noya's skin in the tenderest of touches – and looks up at him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t move either, keeping that light, barely-there contact between them.

So Noya stays.

Over the next few days, Noya notices things.

First, it’s the forks. They reappear in the cutlery drawer, nestled between the spoons and the knives as if they never left.

Asahi doesn’t mention it, so neither does Noya.

Then his comb shows up in the bathroom, on the edge of the sink where Noya left it two weeks ago.

Then it’s the lightbulbs, returned to the junk cabinet in the kitchen.

Then the ballpoint pens, scattered to their appropriate places in the house.

Then the Hershey’s Kisses.

Then the dryer sheets.

Then the old book, which apparently belongs on the shelf of board games in the living room, though Noya honestly doesn’t remember it ever being there before Asahi took and returned it.

Then his pieces of obsidian are returned to the drawer in his bedside table.

Then the stereo remote – the one to the stereo that Noya doesn’t even own anymore – is suddenly sitting in the basket of remotes in the living room by the TV.

For a day or so after that, nothing else happens. Noya has been keeping a quiet watch, cataloging everything that shows up that he knows was in Asahi's trove. Every day, a handful of things are returned, all without any fanfare or discussion. Noya is pretty sure Asahi has exhausted his stash, minus one thing.

He did really like that mug.

Then, when Noya goes to make himself coffee in the morning, his hand knocks against something in the cabinet, something placed where there has been an empty space for weeks now.

With the hideously tacky rhinestone mug returned, Noya is quite certain now that Asahi's trove is empty. Asahi hasn’t hidden his flip-flops beneath the couch, either – he keeps them by the door, with all of Noya's shoes, like a normal person.

It definitely means something, but Noya doesn’t want to speculate about what. He does anyway, of course, usually when he and Asahi are sitting in companionable quiet after he gets home from work, or when they cook together in the kitchen, or when they watch TV, or when they play Chutes and Ladders, or when he listens to the steady in and out of Asahi's breathing in the middle of the night. Noya speculates a lot, actually. What he doesn’t do is make a move.

He watches and he speculates and he enjoys the time that he has with Asahi, because while Asahi is un-troving things – whatever that act means – Asahi is also healing. Soon, Asahi will be completely back to normal, and then he will leave, and Noya just –

He can’t –

If Asahi is going to leave, then Noya isn’t going to make this harder on either of them. That’s all.

Not based on nothing but speculation.

To celebrate Asahi's return to perfect health, Tanaka and Saeko insist on a picnic. They offer to bring all of the food, even – all Noya and Asahi have to do is show up.

Asahi, who has never been on a picnic before, is thrilled.

Noya, who is very happy that Asahi is completely one hundred percent healed but also very sad that Asahi will definitely be going home – and leaving Noya behind – any day now, does his best to act thrilled.

They have it on the beach, on a brilliantly sunny Saturday, just over three weeks after Noya and Asahi first met.

“And now,” Tanaka declares, stuffing his paper trash into the bag they brought, “since everyone has finished eating, it is time for the picnic games!”

Noya does not particularly feel like playing picnic games, but Asahi looks intrigued, so he’ll play. He can psych himself up for this. He and Tanaka always have a blast at these kinds of things.

Saeko cheers. “Time for us to kick your ass at the picnic games!” she says, bumping her elbow into Ukai’s side and grinning devilishly first at Tanaka and then at Noya and Asahi.

Ukai snorts a laugh. “As long as there isn’t a three-legged race,” he says.

“Hey!” Saeko cries, whipping around to face him. “That wasn’t my fault! That was blatant favoritism on the part of the ref – as if I would ever cheat at such a wholesome event!”

“How can you cheat at a three-legged race?” Kiyoko asks, looking between Ukai and Saeko. She wasn’t here for Tanaka and Noya's high school graduation party. It’s easy to forget, because she fit into their group so quickly once she and Tanaka started dating and also because Tanaka wasted no time in marrying her once they were both sure of what they wanted. Eleven months from introductions to matrimony is a pretty quick turnaround by anyone’s standards.

“Don’t ask,” Noya advises her. The Tanaka siblings take picnic games really, really seriously – including the fine art of cheating at picnic games. It’s a time-honored tradition, and they both get pretty intense about it, which is saying something given their normal levels of intensity.

“Ooh, come here; I’ll show you,” Saeko says, shooting Noya a dirty look and then jumping up and grabbing Kiyoko's hand to drag her up off of the picnic blanket. Kiyoko laughs and lets her. Poor girl.

“Don’t show her,” Ukai protests, lounging on the picnic blanket. “We have to beat her, remember?”

“Or she and I can partner,” Saeko says. “I love you, babe, but you’ll only slow me down.”

“No, no, no,” Tanaka protests, jumping up as well to pull Kiyoko away from Saeko. “Couples as teams,” he declares. “Kiyoko is my partner. If you wanted someone good at beach games you should have dated them.”

“Fine,” Saeko says. “But first round winner gets to pick a new partner.”

“Fine,” Tanaka agrees.

They shake on it, making intense eye contact the whole time.

Ukai sighs and looks at Asahi. “You’re sane, right?” he says, in a long-suffering tone. “Please tell me it’s three-to-three and not four-to-two.”

“Hey!” Noya protests. “I’m sane!”

“You’re just as bad as the two of them,” Ukai disagrees. “You’re being suspiciously quiet today, but don’t try to deny the fact that you’re usually out there with them, leading the charge away from reason.”

Noya opens his mouth to reply, but then he sees Asahi watching him and he snaps it shut. He doesn’t feel like arguing today.

Ukai raises his eyebrows, watching Noya.

Noya scowls at him. “I’m sane,” he mutters.

“Uh-huh,” Ukai says, in a thoroughly unconvinced tone.

“Hey!” Saeko calls, gesturing at the three of them sitting on the picnic blanket. “Get up! We’re gonna do the three-legged race first, then the egg-and-spoon race, then the cartwheel race, then the blindfolded race, then we’ll see how far ahead Ukai and I are and call it from there.”

“In your dreams, big sis,” Tanaka says, scoffing. “Kiyoko and I are going to crush you.”

Ukai sighs again, in an exaggerated manner, but he gets up and goes to stand with Saeko, wrapping an arm around her waist. Saeko kisses his cheek and then immediately turns back to Tanaka.

The banter is familiar – usually Noya is right there with them, making it a three way smack talk throwdown – but today he feels content to sit it out.

Beside him, Asahi looks a bit unsure as he watches the siblings go at it.

“Hey,” Noya says, softly so as not to draw attention to them, leaning towards Asahi, “are you okay?”

Asahi meets Noya's eyes.

God, he’s beautiful.

The sun is reflecting off of the brown in his eyes and making them shine like copper. His smile seems to glow as it spreads across his face, just a touch hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Asahi says, also speaking quietly. He leans in as well, closing most of the distance between the two of them. Noya shivers. Asahi, who looked away to watch Saeko and Tanaka argue over the lengths of rope they brought for the race, doesn’t see it, thank goodness. “This is just …” Asahi says, and then pauses. He looks back at Noya.

He is close and beautiful and impressionistic in the warm light around him that seems to at once soften his edges and throw his features into sharp relief. Noya feels like he can’t breathe, like the weight of Asahi's gaze is pressing on his lungs to leave him lightheaded. It isn’t a bad feeling. Noya could live like this, he’s pretty sure. Then Asahi takes a breath, slow and a touch uneven, and Noya copies him, breathing with him. It’s so warm.

“I’m just having a really nice time,” Asahi says, finally, quietly, holding Noya's gaze.

“Me too,” Noya says, just as quietly.

He’s having a very nice time. Other than the looming threat of Asahi leaving, Noya can hardly remember a nicer, more pleasant time he’s ever had. Asahi has been pressed against his side all day, his skin sun-kissed warm.

“Good,” Asahi says. He leans just a bit closer, dropping his voice ever so slightly. “Because I want to talk to you about –”

“Yuu! Asahi!” Tanaka’s shout interrupts Asahi, who jerks back and looks up in alarm.

Noya inhales deeply in relief; he doesn’t want to hear Asahi telling him he has to go. He doesn’t want Asahi to thank him for all of his help and then tell him goodbye. He will put this off for as long as he can. … And then maybe for a little longer after that. Exhaling slowly, Noya looks up at Tanaka as well, finding Tanaka eyeing him with a knowing expression.

Tanaka gestures for the two of them to get up and join everyone else. “We’re ready to start,” he says, waving the leg-tying ropes around, fortunately not commenting on whatever he thinks he just saw. “You two are cool with being partners, right?”

“Sure,” Asahi says, before Noya can. Noya glances at him. Asahi is grinning, watching Saeko and Ukai take practice steps across the beach. “It looks like fun.”

It does look like fun. It also looks like hell – being tied to Asahi, working as a team, getting sweaty and falling down on top of each other in the hot sand where Asahi's tee-shirt might ride up and Noya might see his six pack again, up close and personal, and Asahi might look at him with his eyes and he might smile at him with his mouth and his mouth will be there and oh fuck.

“Maybe we should –” Noya starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish that sentence – anything to get out of rolling around in the sand with Asahi because he’ll probably literally combust if that happens, and the discrepancy between their heights, combined with Asahi's inexperience, pretty much guarantees that that is where this is going.

“Don’t be a baby, Yuu,” Tanaka says. He grabs Noya's arm and hauls him upright, ignoring Noya's halfhearted protests. Then he leans in to whisper in Noya’s ear, “You only have so much time to snag your seal-man, dude; you’d better make this count!”

Noya gawks at him.

Tanaka winks and hands him the ropes to tie himself and Asahi together.

Behind Noya, Asahi stands up, tall and basically glowing in the sunlight. “Noya?” he says.

“Right,” Noya says. He runs the ropes through his fingers, feeling the rough texture of them. “Right,” he says again. “Let’s three-legged race.”

They do fall. Many times.

Asahi's tee-shirt rides up. Noya sees his stomach and his six pack and his fucking hip bones where his shorts ride down just a little in the mad struggle to remain upright.

Noya doesn’t combust, but it’s close.

And they don’t even win any of the races.

And Noya never finds the right moment to tell Asahi … anything at all.

They come home that night after the sun has set and the fire they used to roast their s’mores has been diligently put out and Noya has run out of excuses to not be alone with Asahi. He knows that once he is alone with Asahi, Asahi will tell him goodbye. Asahi's leg is fully healed now, after all – that’s what the picnic was all about – so there is no reason for Asahi to stay.

Before they all parted ways for the night, Tanaka pulled Noya aside to offer another round of fiercely whispered encouragement.

“He likes you, Yuu,” Tanaka whispered, holding Noya in a tight hug as they said goodnight. “I’m not sure he’ll ask to stay, though, so you gotta make the first move. You’re good at that. You always make the first move. Just be yourself, and I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

Noya isn’t so sure, though.

If Asahi liked him, wouldn’t Noya know by now? They’ve been living in very close quarters for three weeks now. They’ve been sharing a bed for almost as long. Noya would know if Asahi felt the way that Noya feels.

He would.

… Wouldn’t he?

Either way, climbing into bed together isn’t the time to bring it up.

Like every night they’ve shared the bed, Asahi gets in first and then holds the covers up for Noya to join him. Noya does, and then turns off the bedside lamp. The room goes dark, the sheets rustle as they both get comfortable, and Asahi's breathing washes over Noya like the tide.

Noya stays awake for a long time, listening to the sound of Asahi's breathing, thinking about the tide – thinking about the ocean.

He’s always loved the ocean. Saeko taught him and Tanaka to surf when they were ten. He bought this place, small and somewhat rundown though it is, during his last year of high school because he knew that there was nowhere else he wanted to be. The sound of the ocean rolling in and out is soothing; the sight of it, constantly inconstant, is grounding. Noya loves the ocean and he always has.

Tonight, though, he’s cursing it.

The ocean brought Asahi to him – or him to Asahi, depending on how you look at it – and now the ocean will take him away again. Selkies feel compelled to return to the ocean; it says so in every myth Noya could find online, and Asahi himself said so when Saeko asked him about it when they had French toast on the beach. Asahi needs to return to the ocean. What can Noya possibly offer him that compares to his home?

He turns his head to look at Asahi. There isn’t much moonlight tonight; all he can see are shadows, hazy lines in the dark mapping out Asahi's face and the shape of his body beneath the sheets. Noya can see the shape of him shifting, ever so slightly, as he breathes – in and out, in and out, steady as the tide, his shoulder rising and falling in time with his breathing. Asahi is facing him, like he does every night. Noya wonders how much of his face Asahi can see in the dark. He wonders what Asahi has seen when Noya forgets to hide his feelings.

“Noya,” Asahi whispers.

Noya freezes.

He can feel it when Asahi shifts closer, both the gentle tugging of the sheets and the warmth of Asahi's body giving the movement away.

“Noya,” Asahi whispers again.

Noya still doesn’t move. He isn’t ready. He doesn’t want to say goodbye.

Asahi waits for a moment, then, when Noya doesn’t respond, he breathes out very slowly.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” he murmurs, so quietly Noya almost doesn’t hear him. Then he shifts again; Noya tracks his arm as it disturbs the sheet over them both before stopping in the space between their bodies.

Noya's hand feels warmer than it did a moment ago. His fingers twitch and brush skin. Asahi breathes in sharply and Noya immediately curls them back to where they were. Noya doesn’t move and, after a moment, Asahi relaxes. He makes no move to touch Noya, but he leaves his hand where it is, resting on the bed so close to Noya's own hand that Noya can feel the heat from his skin.

Before long, Asahi's breathing evens out completely, falling into that perfectly soothing rhythm that Noya has come to know so well. Tonight, though, it doesn’t soothe Noya, not when his hand is like a hot coal between them, glowing fiercely with a warmth that Noya aches to touch.

He doesn’t, though.

Instead, he lies awake, watching the clouds outside dictate the shadows in the room as they chase across the moon – he lies awake and watches for glimpses of Asahi's face, relaxed in sleep, when the room brightens slightly.

He lies awake and listens to the sound of Asahi's breathing – he lies awake and listens to the sound of the tide moving in and out, in and out, in and out, and, steadily, washing away from him.

Noya wakes up alone.

That hasn’t happened since he and Asahi started sharing the bed.

The bed is cold where Asahi was when Noya fell asleep sometime in the early morning. He can’t have slept for more than a few hours, but the bed is stone cold on that side.

Noya's chest feels tight. He gathers the sheet close to himself. It’s cold all the way through. It’s as if Asahi was never here.

He was going to say goodbye. That’s what Asahi said last night; he said he would tell Noya goodbye in the morning – did he change his mind?

Noya doesn’t want to say goodbye, but he would rather have a goodbye than nothing at all.

“Asahi?” Noya calls. His voice catches so he clears his throat and tries again. “Asahi?” he calls, more loudly.

There is no answer.

The house isn’t that big – if Asahi was here, he would definitely have heard that. Even if he was in the shower, he would have heard that. And Noya would hear the shower. But the shower isn’t running. There isn’t a sound in the house except for Noya's beating heart, pounding out far too loud in the condemning silence.

But, no, Noya is being ridiculous. Asahi wouldn’t just leave. He’s more considerate than that – and more polite. He wouldn’t just leave. He’s probably on a walk or something, enjoying his newly healed leg and Tsukishima's decree of a clean bill of health. Because he wouldn’t just leave Noya without even saying goodbye.

… Would he?

There’s an easy way to check. If Asahi really is gone, then his seal pelt must be gone.

Noya forces himself to get up and go check. Asahi has been keeping his pelt in the lowest cabinet in the kitchen, in the corner, padlocked with Noya's old bike lock and the key hidden who knows where so that not even Noya can get to it. If the cabinet is still locked, then Asahi isn’t gone.

The floor is cold on Noya's feet as he walks to the kitchen. He drags the bedsheet with him, feeling a bit silly but also less exposed with it wrapped around him. When he gets to the kitchen, he stops.

The cabinet is open. The padlock is on the floor, so is the key, and the cabinet is empty.

So he is gone.

That –

Well, it isn’t like Noya can be upset, really, can he? After all, he knew Asahi would leave. It’s part of why he never said anything about –

Well, it isn’t like this is a surprise, anyway. Noya isn’t surprised. He’s just – he’s – just a bit –

He doesn’t know when he started crying, but suddenly he can’t see a fucking thing and when he rubs at his eyes his hand comes away wet. Once he knows he’s crying he can hear it – big, ugly, wet sobs filling up the whole house. And he’s standing here wrapped in a bedsheet. Sobbing. In his kitchen. Over some seal-man who obviously didn’t want him after all, because he left without even saying goodbye, and he –

That –

It’s f–

“Noya?”

Noya inhales sharply, scrubbing at his eyes in reflex, but it doesn’t stop the tears and that makes him cry harder and then, suddenly, someone is holding onto his arms and turning him gently around and then –

Fucking hell it’s Asahi.

“Noya,” Asahi says, his voice thick with worry as his eyes scan across Noya’s face and then down his body, probably looking for some grievous wound. As if he’ll be able to see it on the outside. “Noya, what’s wrong?” Asahi asks, the paragon of tender concern.

“F-f-fuck you,” Noya chokes out.

Asahi’s eyes widen but he doesn’t let go.

It isn’t exactly what Noya meant to say, but whatever. He didn’t mean to start crying in his kitchen either. It’s a day for this kind of bullshit, apparently.

“Noya,” Asahi says, again, all sweet and worried. He smells like the ocean, salt and wildness. He’s wet, too.

Then Noya sees his pelt – or, he’s pretty sure it’s Asahi's pelt, dark and formless through Noya's tears – lying in a pile on the floor by the open door. It’s wet, too, glistening in the sunlight coming in through the door.

“You left,” Noya accuses. Asahi did – he’s wet from the ocean, and he took his pelt. He left and he didn’t say goodbye.

“I came back,” Asahi says.

“Fuck you,” Noya says, again, intentionally this time. “As if that makes it okay.” He wipes at his eyes again. The tears are slowing now, only leaking out instead of pouring, so he can see a little bit better.

Asahi looks incredible, of course, all wet and standing very close to Noya and gleaming in the soft early morning sun.

Noya shoves him away.

Asahi goes, staring at Noya with the most – with just a – he just looks so fucking sad, as if Noya is the one causing the hurt here. Noya opens his mouth to tell Asahi off again, in more detail this time, but Asahi speaks first.

“I’m sorry,” Asahi says. “Noya, I am so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Noya retorts, surly.

“I thought I’d be back before you woke up,” Asahi continues, looking and sounding so damn contrite it’s taking everything Noya has to stay appropriately mad at him. “I just needed to go for a swim, and I thought I would be back before you noticed I was gone.”

“Well, I did notice,” Noya tells him.

“I can see that,” Asahi says.

Noya scowls at him. “Don’t be cute when I’m telling you off,” he snaps. “I’m mad at you.”

“And you have every right to be,” Asahi agrees, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Noya says, still scowling; it’s taking a bit of effort at this point, though, to keep it up in the face of Asahi's genuine remorse.

“I am,” Asahi assures him, nodding again. He takes a hesitant step forward, then, towards Noya. “I wanted to be here when you woke up, because there’s something I have to tell you,” he says. His expression is very earnest. His chest is very wet.

If he says goodbye now, Noya is going to deck him, probably.

“I was thinking – wondering – hoping, I mean,” Asahi says, fumbling a bit, “I was hoping that you might feel what I feel.”

Noya stares at him. It feels like his brain has short-circuited.

Asahi bites his lip. “It’s just,” he says, taking another step closer but not quite coming close enough to touch, “I didn’t think it was all in my head, the way you look at me sometimes, but my leg is fine now and I don’t really have an excuse to stay … unless you want me to.” He waits, then, for Noya to say something.

Noya has no words. There are no words. His fingers twist in the bedsheet, clutching it tighter.

“The thing I have to tell you,” Asahi says, his voice shaking, his stare steady, “is that I want to stay. With you. Because I like you. Yuu, I like you so much, and I’ve never felt –”

Noya launches himself at Asahi, abandoning the bedsheet in favor of tackling Asahi to the living room floor. Asahi shouts and pulls Noya tight to his – very wet, very well-defined – chest to protect him from the fall.

Words are overrated.

Noya is a man of action.

He leans in towards Asahi's face, catching and then holding his gaze. Asahi's eyes are huge. His hands on Noya's back are warm and damp, and, when Noya leans in closer, their grip tightens. Noya gives him a moment to pull away, if he wants to. He drops his gaze to Asahi's mouth. Asahi doesn’t pull away. Asahi shudders beneath him. Noya looks up again, meeting Asahi's eyes.

“Are you going to kiss me, Yuu?” Asahi asks, terribly quietly.

“Yeah,” Noya breaths, watching the way Asahi licks his lips. “Yeah, I am, Asahi, if that’s all right with you.”

“Sounds good,” Asahi murmurs. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Noya is ready. He’s very, very ready.

So Noya leans down towards Asahi, and Asahi leans up towards Noya, and they meet in the middle, warm and gentle and fierce and lovely and perfect.

Asahi tastes like the ocean.

He tastes like the tide coming in.