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One by the one, the voices complaining about aching muscles and pain quieted down, replaced instead by adolescent snoring and heavy breathing. The room was uncomfortably hot from the shared body heat of dozen boys on sleeping rolls, some who were better at bathing than others, resulting in the room reeking too much of sweat, and not enough of soap.
There were no sounds of ticking clocks, but the noise Kaburagi created by constantly shifting back and forth was frequent enough for one to tell the time by it.
Danchiku assumed it was around 1 a.m., when he guessed the last of the others were finally asleep from exhaustion, and slightly less triggered by his moving bed spread neighbour.
Captain Teshima and Aoyagi walked past the door to their bedroom, their steps creaking on the corridor floor, making less noise than Sadatoki produced with his loud snoring, as he slept by the door at the other side of the room. Yet their steps made Kaburagi groan, like an added annoyance which was the final nail in the coffin, and Danchiku’s patience was wearing thin.
No windows were opened, and they were far away from the electrical fan, which’s distance meant even its sound was no bother. It was already the beginning of summer, and despite the occasional rainfall they would have to cope with, the asphalt of the circuit had been nearly burning hot that day. Unlike a snowy winter, when they had to huddle under a kotatsu together, and unlike a day of stormy rain, when Danchiku would appease Kaburagi with an embrace, it made less sense when Kaburagi finally gave up falling asleep on his own, to simply shuffle uninvited in under Danchiku’s bed sheets.
“Oi, what are you doing?” Danchiku whispered, as he automatically moved to the side to make more room for the other.
“I can’t sleep,” Kaburagi whispered back, and though no lights were on, the slimmer from under the door gave enough for Danchiku to see his heartbroken pout.
When it came to a look like that, he gave in a bit too easily. Even though he logically knew sleep would come harder, at least for him, he tiredly opened up his arms, to quickly get invaded by a Kaburagi snuggling up to his chest.
“You realise we’re not alone, right?” Danchiku asked.
He locked his arms around his friend.
“I don’t care,” Kaburagi told him. “I missed you so much today on the road, and tomorrow it’s going to be the same.” Turning his head upwards, he met Danchiku’s eyes, looking both saddened by the state of his mind, and happy by the state of his body. “I don’t want to be separated from you again, Danchiku.”
Danchiku sighed. Still conversing in hushed tones, he said: “Issa, we’re not really separated, right? I’m still here right beside you, so try not to focus on that. You did great today, you can definitely do it. So Issa…” He sighed. “Just sleep already.”
Instead of heeding his advice, Kaburagi cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Their kisses weren’t sloppy any longer, since they had figured out how to use their tongues correctly, but each ended with a smacking sound most people would not associate with an all boy bedroom.
Danchiku did not doubt there were suspicions amongst their peers, disclosed mostly because of how foreign such an assumption appeared, but caution should be prioritised. As sweet as Kaburagi’s kisses were, as painful as missing him had been, dealing with the consequences either of their bodies, or from being discovered, would just cause needless complications.
“Issa, stop it,” he protested. “This is not the place for it.”
“I don’t care, Danchiku, I need you,” Kaburagi complained.
“You need sleep right now more,” Danchiku argued, leaning his head back to avoid a silencing kiss. “Think, idiot.”
Kaburagi huffed, burying his head against Danchiku’s chest. The heat was near suffocating, but he let him stay, his hands working over Kaburagi’s back with slow strokes.
Kaburagi’s hands grabbed at Danchiku’s shirt. He made himself tiny in his arms, and said: “But we can stay like this over the night, right?”
It was painfully hot already and the kissing had only made Danchiku more alert. Feeling Kaburagi’s body in his embrace, his breath against his skin, was almost cruelly wonderful at this time and place.
“Yes, if you just stop talking and fall asleep,” he allowed. It wasn’t the wisest choice, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no.
Kaburagi shifted, and managed to work his leg in between Danchiku’s thighs. He pressed himself closer than seemed possible and said, with a pitiful voice: “It sucked, I really, really missed you.”
“I know,” Danchiku replied. “I missed you too. Now sleep.”
It seemed to take forever, coddling Kaburagi like a child, and quietly repeating words of encouragement and affection. Slowly but surely, Kaburagi’s breathing started to ebb, as he started to join the more silent of their nightly companions, perhaps falling asleep at long last. Danchiku feared disturbing him, and starting the whole process over, should he move just a bit. Lying perfectly still, his left arm crushed under the thankfully light weight of Kaburagi’s body, he knew he was an hour away from sleep, at least.
Sighing again, without having the heart to blame his friend even though it would be justified, he stroked his hand through the ginger hair. He had missed seeing it, riding behind him, or in front of him, or just by his side.
As he caressed him, he could tell that Kaburagi hadn’t fallen asleep yet after all, but perhaps he had been wrong. More so than sleep and rest, perhaps this simple comfort shared was what they needed the most.