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Azuma likes his beds warm and his company warmer.
These are the reasons that he tells himself to justify being sandwiched in between Hisoka and Homare at some ungodly hour of the night. The real ones - the ones he will not let himself think about - are the comforting pressure of Hisoka's head on his chest, the way that Homare somehow takes up all of the space on the bed, the knowledge that they had seen him at his most vulnerable and had only welcomed him with even wider arms.
("...Do you really want to leave?" Hisoka had mumbled into the space between Azuma's shoulder blades, and Azuma struggled to come up with a socially acceptable way to say no, because I'm afraid that my home will disappear, again.
Then Homare declared loudly, "I think this humble abode can fit one more person, don't you think, Hisoka-kun?", and Azuma laughed. Who was he to turn down such an earnest proposal?)
Azuma almost wishes that that had been the last time, that this lapse in judgement had only happened once. But of course it would not be so easy - of course, whenever it got late, Homare would ask Azuma if he would prefer to extend his stay. Hisoka would latch onto him, asking the same question but silently (and more demanding). Azuma would say yes, citing the same reason every time.
It's starting to sound hollow to his own ears. Especially when he ends up hardly sleeping anyway, overheating from Homare throwing off his share of the blanket and overpowered by guilt and wondering what are we to each other?
It's one such night when Azuma decides that he's had enough of staring at the ceiling, sighs, and tries to turn onto his side.
...Only to come face to face with a Hisoka that's barely awake, if Azuma had to judge by the speed of his blinking. They're only a few centimeters apart, just far enough for Azuma to be taken apart by those green eyes and still be able to feel warm breath on his face. "Did I wake you up?" he whispers. "Sorry, I'll be going to sleep soon."
Hisoka closes his eyes, seemingly satisfied by that response. "...Stop thinking so hard. I can hear it."
Azuma sincerely hopes that was a figure of speech, because all he can think of right now is how much he wants to kiss Hisoka's frown off of his face.
Instead, he just huffs out a laugh and stretches out an arm as an invitation. One that Hisoka immediately takes, melding to Azuma's body and burying his face in Azuma's chest. This is almost definitely too warm, and it's going to be a nightmare waking up caked in sweat, but.
But it would be worth it, to be able to wake up next to the people I love one more time , Azuma thinks as he feels himself drift into a dreamless sleep.
Things continue as they are, and the unsettling sensation continues to build in the back of Azuma's head. And he's almost sure that he's not alone, given the sharper-than-usual quality that Hisoka's gazes have taken on. But Azuma continues to wake up with purple hair in his face, continues to be used as Hisoka's personal human pillow, and continues to indulge in (almost) all of Homare's little whims.
Azuma thinks he's doing all of them a service when he lifts his head from his book and asks "what are we doing?"
Hisoka's body tenses from where he's leaned against Azuma. The sounds of Homare typing on his mechanical keyboard stop.
Homare himself turns around to give Azuma a questioning look. "Why, did you want to do something? I'm sure we still have time in the day left."
Azuma smiles sadly. "Perhaps we could. But what I meant was more... Homare, how do you feel about us?"
"Why, you are all my dearest friends, of course!" Homare doesn't even hesitate, flinging his arms out for extra emphasis. Then he glances over at Azuma and Hisoka, lumped together on the couch, and something in his face softens.
"You know I'm not the greatest at these kinds of things. But you two are to me the greatest sources of inspiration I could hope for, is the best way I could put it into words."
Some of the tension leaves Azuma's body. "Then, Hisoka - "
He looks down, only to feel a shiver run down his spine at the deadly serious look in Hisoka's eyes. "You first," Hisoka says clear as day, and Azuma gets the underlying message.
No more running .
That's fair, Azuma supposes. If these are the people that he's going to rely on for the rest of his life, he should start learning how to let them in.
"My family - " he hesitates, and Hisoka is a comforting weight in his lap. "My family meant - means - everything to me. Of course, all of Mankai is family now, but you two…
"Homare, Hisoka. You two mean something more."
Homare looks, worryingly, on the verge of tears. Hisoka just smiles and turns inward, planting his face against Azuma's stomach in a way that shouldn't be comfortable, but...well. Azuma wouldn't be the one complaining.
And really, he will be in danger of tearing up if he thinks too hard about how many times that Izumi has worried over him - how many times that Winter Troupe has taken on his burdens despite doing his very best to push them away - how many times that Homare and Hisoka had cared for him in their own ways, somehow knowing exactly what he needs when he shows up at their door -
"And you, Hisoka-kun?" Homare's voice breaks through the haze of emotions, bringing Azuma back to the present. "Do you have any overwhelming emotions you would like to share?"
Azuma feels rather than sees Hisoka scrunching his nose. "Arisu," he mumbles, "come closer."
Homare smiles and gets up from his desk, crossing the length of the room in three easy strides. "But of course!" he says as he drapes himself across Azuma easily. "What do you want me for?"
Hisoka extends himself to somehow trap both Homare and Azuma in place. "'M sleepy," he says. Then yawns. Then…
He's out like a light, snoring softly as his two people closest to his heart watch over him with love.
"Couldn't have waited until we were in bed?" Azuma chuckles. "But that's part of his charm, isn't it?"
"Hm, but perhaps it was something more," Homare adds on, eyes taking on the shine of a new poem in the works. "Perhaps, with one simple act, he was conveying the amount of trust he holds in us - one does not fall asleep unless one feels comforted, safe. Such a meaningful sentiment, yet conveyed with no words at all...Hisoka-kun has hope yet for the arts…"
Smiling (a real smile this time), Azuma leans over to press a kiss to the corner of Homare's mouth and brushes back the bangs from Hisoka's face. "Good night," he says with feeling, and closes his eyes for a restful sleep.