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It had taken a while for Keigo to let you into his bed, to allow you to stay overnight. You’d known he was private, suspected he wasn’t ready to share the vulnerability that came with darkness and soft sighs and gentle breathing. You could be a restless sleeper yourself, often waking at the tap of a branch at your window or the creak from someone walking across old floorboards in the unit next to yours. You warned him—you woke easily and moved a lot. You often made a less than ideal bed partner.
Keigo had merely shrugged. There wasn’t much to bother the silence around the apartment given how high up it was and how it spanned the breadth of the building. He was willing to give it a shot if you were, but “no pressure!” You’d thought to refuse at first—if you interrupted his sleep by shifting as often as you did, Keigo would likely never invite you over again. It was when you’d studied Keigo’s face that you knew what answer you had to give—his gold eyes had lost their usual glimmer in the privacy of his home. His cheerful smile couldn’t hide the darkness beneath his eyes, the slump of his shoulders, or even the overexaggerated unkemptness of his hair.
“Sure,” you said. “I’ll stay over. But I steal the blankets, so be prepared.” For the first time in a week, you saw something in his eyes relax.
Keigo hated sleeping around people. You’d seen him refuse naps even after pulling 72 hour stunts for a joint mission. Despite the aching of his joints and the dryness of his eyes, Keigo would stay up until he could sleep alone. He’d only napped around you after you’d literally taken a bullet for him.
Now you could understand why. He’d hidden it at first—frequent trips to get some water, suddenly remembering something he’d forgotten to do—Keigo usually interrupted his sleep after a few hours, if he’d managed to sleep that long in the first place. You usually woke up with him, but something in his eyes begged you to hold back from asking the question tugging at your tongue, and he’d tell you to go back to sleep.
It had taken a while for him to go from leaving the bedroom upon waking to staying in bed. You’d trained yourself to move as little as possible when Keigo woke you in the hope that he would stop removing himself from the room. You’d lean back into his warmth when he’d gasp awake, press your forehead to his back and wrap your arms around his middle. Keigo would tense at first, half an apology stuck to his lips, but you’d give a soft hum and press a kiss between his shoulder blades until he finally gave a soft sigh and you could relax your warmth against him.
He never faced you when he woke, but you could tell his eyes were open. Whether he actually saw anything was a question you couldn’t confidently answer, but you hoped the soft warmth of your presence was enough to lull him somewhere safe from whatever monsters lurked behind his eyelids. When you’d feel him wake next, early morning light would peek through the blinds. The inevitable apology for waking you too early always seemed to follow, but you’d interrupt him with a kiss and say you were happy to wake with him and bask in the warmth of the bed before either of you could be bothered to find breakfast.
Keigo seemed to revel in quiet comfort. If you spoke too early on he would tense and shiver, hands covering his face until you could hum him back to sleep. If you gave him time to soften first, to melt back into you, the gentleness of your voice would pull sleepy hums and breathy exhales. You didn’t ask about the nightmares at first—he could never speak of them when it was dark. In the morning, when the sky was still a soft gray and he’d turned to hide his face in your neck, you could hear him whisper them between the glide of his hands on your skin and the shaking curve of his back.
Keigo would offer you little stories usually—glimpses into a childhood that you pretended you didn’t know was his. Sometimes they were about adults—missions he’d never repeat to anyone. Often the two blurred, and you’d slowly detangle them until you could carefully offer assurances of what was false, what was true, and what you could keep him from. On many levels you could relate—you’d shared similar training backgrounds, had some shared stories—but you’d long lost the ability to dream, and now you slept too lightly to entertain the concept.
Tonight had been more difficult than most. He’d come home far later than usual, iron clinging to his clothes. You’d startled awake at the smell of it, an arm reaching for the nightstick you kept on the nightstand, before you’d smelled Keigo’s aftershave. With your eyes now adjusted to the darkness, you could make out his form by the door, the slump of his shoulders only partially hidden by the shadow of his wings. Gold eyes didn’t move from your form as you sat up.
“Wanna grab a shower with me?” you asked softly, sluggishly leaving the heat of the blankets. Keigo didn’t move, just stood, head tilted as you wiggled out of your pajamas. Silence answered you. Maybe he wasn’t in the right mind to be speaking yet, but he certainly couldn’t stay covered in blood. You walked up to him slowly, extending a hand toward his face until he finally moved and tilted his cheek into your palm. You could feel the stickiness of his skin. “Your clothes must feel uncomfortable.”
Keigo merely closed his eyes as your thumb brushed his skin. It took a few more minutes for you to peel his coat off, then the rest of his costume, and throw it in the wash. Keigo had made his way into the bathroom when you got back, hands fiddling with the water temperature. With his clothes off, you could see the extent of his injuries—nothing a little TLC couldn’t fix, at least on the physical level—as well as how much splatter had actually gotten through his clothes. You were surprised he wasn’t leaving footprints at this point.
Keeping the water just under boiling seemed to be the mood tonight. The mirrors instantly fogged up. You stepped in first, one hand intertwined with Keigo’s, before you pulled him in with you. The way his eyes closed as the water washed over him made your chest ache. You dipped his head back into the stream of the shower, working your hands through it to wash out splotches of red before shampooing it. Keigo’s hands and found their way to your back, his head bowed so you could get better access to his scalp, forehead nearly touching your shoulder. You stepped closer to rinse the suds from his hair, nails gently scraping at his scalp. You watched the shudder that started in his neck roll down the rest of his spine.
After working conditioner through his hair, section by section, you started to scrub his skin. The water had brought a flush to Keigo’s skin that rivalled the color of his feathers. You switched places with him, letting your back break the flow of water as you continued to wash off whatever had taken place during Keigo’s work. The suds turned a light pink in places where grime had gotten a little more time to dry, but under the gentle scrub of the loofah and the massage of your fingers, you got Keigo’s skin properly cleaned.
Keigo turned after a few moments, eyes finally leaving your face. Taking the hint, you grabbed the shower head from the wall and brought it down. You cooled the water slightly so it wasn’t quite so hot before running it over Keigo’s wings, gently brushing debris away. When the water ran clear, you replaced the shower head.
“You didn’t get any suds,” Keigo said suddenly, his eyes focussed on yours. You blinked.
“Do you want me to?” you asked. All you heard was the shower running over you before Keigo popped his shampoo open and started lathering it into your hair. His nails scraped against your scalp now and then, sending shivers down your spine as you bent your head forward. After deeming your hair properly shampooed, Keigo rinsed it out and grabbed his conditioner.
You gave a hum at his attentive hands. After working through your hair he’d started lathering you in his body wash. With your own soaps on hand, you figured you’d give him this much—there was always a comfort in having the other smell like you. Kiego’s nails scraped all the right places, pressed right where you wanted them to. You kept your eyes locked on Keigo’s face. His brow was slightly furrowed, eyes losing their exhausted alarm as you allowed his hands to keep roaming you. With your arms wrapped around his neck, it was easy to press yourself against him. Easy to let your hands slide down his chest, wrap around his back, bite into the tense muscle twitching beneath his skin.
Keigo tipped your head back, rinsing your conditioner and body wash in one go. You could feel his gaze on your throat, eyes latched to the sight of you swallowing thickly and allowing yourself to be moved by his hands. When you could make eye contact again, you did, letting the dimness in Keigo’s eyes direct you.
You turned the water off, grabbed a towel, and slowly rubbed the soft fabric over Keigo’s skin before slowly drying his hair. Keigo kept his hands on your hips, kneading the flesh he could grasp as if uncertain your skin was real. When his hair was sufficiently dry, you let Keigo drag the towel across your skin, his finger leaving trails of heat in their wake. He did his best to dry your hair, but missed some droplets that dripped down the back of your neck.
You walked him slowly to the bed. You’d been here before—the sad, prolonged silence. The heaviness pushing on his shoulders. The ache that curved his spine and shoulders. You knew how to start untangling the knots forming in his mind. You turned the blanket down, nudging Keigo under it before you gathered the soft extras you’d kept in the closet. After spreading a few of them over the bed, you got in with him. Instantly Keigo was on you, his head on your chest, stomach to stomach with you as you slid blankets over his skin.
You kept a hand working through his hair, gently massaging at his scalp and working out the small tangles that had accumulated over the course of the day. Your other hand wrapped around under his wings, just your thumb moving. Keigo kept his arms trapped under your back. His wings rustled now and then, spreading and contracting before relaxing rather limply on either side of you. You hummed softly, a nameless tune you could remember being hummed to you a long, long time ago.
Once in a while Keigo would add his own notes to the tune, but his voice barely reached your ears. The skin-to-skin contact was good. The warmth of your skin and the fall and rise of your chest were good for grounding him so far. You’d need to up the ante soon. Keigo moved before you could, pushing himself up slightly before putting his weight on you again. This time, he kept his face buried in your neck. You could feel the raggedness of his breath like this, shuddering against your skin. You kept humming, turning to press kisses into his shoulder and his cheek where you could reach. He held onto you tighter.
“Why don’t you leave me?” Keigo whispered. Your humming paused.
“Because I love you.” You didn’t think the grip on you could get much tighter, but it did.
“You wouldn’t, if you knew what I was doing.” This time you shifted, moving your body up on the bed so you could grasp Keigo’s face in your hands. You caught his gold gaze easily.
“Keigo,” your voice was hardly louder than a whisper. “I know you. I know you’d only ever do what you thought was necessary. What you felt was the right thing to do.” Keigo’s eyes dropped from yours. “I know you’re told to do difficult things. Probably genuinely awful things. I don’t think that’s on you, lovely.”
You waited until you had eye contact again before you continued. “I know you’re a good person. I know you can’t always act like you . There are probably many things you can’t tell me and that’s okay.” Keigo’s eyes look liquid as you pressed your forehead to his. “I will always be in your corner, Keigo. No matter what you or anyone else says or thinks.”
“You should leave me,” he murmured. “You won’t be safe. I can never keep you safe enough—” You kissed him this time, soft and sure until he melted against you.
“We can handle it together,” you replied. “We’re a team. We have each other’s backs.” You ran your hands through his hair again, pressing him as close to your skin as you could without hurting him.
“You know what I did,” Keigo said softly. “I can’t even hide it from you anymore.” You gave a soft hum at that, dragging your nails across his scalp.
“I know,” you said. “It doesn’t change what you are to me in the slightest.” Keigo gave a shudder.
“What am I to you?” You could feel Keigo’s gaze locked on your face, the dull pain of his nails grasping at your skin, the soft brush of his feathers at your thighs.
“The song I hum when it’s too dark outside,” you began, licking your lips. “The hoodie I put on when the world is too much. The warmth of the shower when my bones are cold. The smell of home after a long day.” Keigo shifted again, looser against your frame. “Soft light when the sun peaks over the horizon. A full belly before sleep. The moon pushing past clouds.” If you heard a sniffle, you kept it to yourself. “Warm skin when the sheets are too cold. That first breath after you’ve been underwater. A soft scarf when the wind is bitter. A gentle breeze when the sun is too hot.”
Keigo’s eyes were half-lidded as you met them. “Gentle breaths when I feel alone in the dark. Grounding arms when my skin isn’t mine. Familiar shapes when I can’t quite see.” Your lips quirked. “You are everything I could’ve asked for and more. A thousand small comforts.”
“Even when I come in smelling like blood?” You smiled.
“Yes, because your aftershave follows.”