Work Text:
Pillow Talk
Like the night, so is the sun.
One as dark as the other is bright.
Like the bomb to hydrogen
And
The reactor to the nucleus.
In the darkest moments, the world has always stood still, the hands of watches stopped ticking, and reality was a man-made theory lost in the infinity of galaxies. When strands of time overlapped like a knife cutting through butter, it no longer mattered what songs the birdies sang.
„What happened?“ - „...“ - „Did something happen to you?“ - „...“ - „Do you need anything?“ - „...“ - „Did someone hurt you?“ - „...“
„Damn Satori, it’s three in the night, what happened?!“
And he wanted to do so much, to save him,
to free him from the chains.
Didn’t know what to do;
how to draw a circle straight ahead.
When was the last time he had said so many words in a row, more or less flying off the handle? Had this ever happened before and why were his eyes burning? Why did his heart stop beating and why did people stop breathing? For what reason did his brain decide that getting breath was no longer a priority?
Where had the sparkle in his eyes disappeared to and why did his cheeks shimmer as if kissed by salty oceans? Such a gloriously cruel image right there in the shimmering moonlight. Ushijima was able to see the other‘ arms quivering and biting his lip. Bloodily. Not looking at him, fixing a point behind the ace and studying the boring, white wallpaper. Had Tendou been able to solve the mystery of breathing, or would the two of them suffocate?
„Satori...“ - „Can you ...“
He broke off, it almost seemed as if Tendou had to choke.
„Can ... can I ... can I sleep at your place tonight ... ?“
But the bed was far too small for two bodies.
Just a weak nod, but Ushijima didn’t know what else to reply. The volleyball player moved closer to the wall and then that shivering body was next to him. Tendou’s back against his chest and he had no choice but to put his arm around him. Satori was not allowed to fall off. The ace tried to exhale after the redhead had placed his hand on Wakatoshi’s, seemingly desperate for warmth.
He had read that body heat and the pressure of a hug were able to stabilise. His best friend’s quivering, however, was swelling and so it became more and more surreal. Disastrous.
He cried the Pacific and drowned Mount Everest.
How to withstand a tidal wave that buried even the highest mountain in the world, Wakatoshi did not know.
All he could manage to tell was that he was holding Satori and had no idea if this night would ever end and if they would survive it. He was in despair.
What did one do with people who were crying and who wanted to be held. Did one dial 911 and call an ambulance? Did one talk constantly to the person involved, which was not Ushijima’s strength, and how could a person cry so heavily?
How did they even fit into this small bed, wasn’t that physically impossible? Should he turn on the light and measure it? But for that he would have to let go of Tendou. Unacceptable. Why weren’t they koalas? With Satori on his back, the ace would be able to measure everything and find out if this was happening for real. Illusive.
He thought he knew that some people pinched themselves in situations like this. Reality check. How on earth was he supposed to pinch himself without letting go of the redhead? He could pinch Tendou ... But the boy was crying. Wakatoshi gulped.
Shit.
So he did not let go. Held the older one and would hold him for as long as it was necessary. As Satori would need it. Someone should hand Wakatoshi a medal for holding his breath and asystolia without dying.
Tomorrow he would still not be able to avoid measuring the bed. But ... what if Tendou never stopped crying again? There were hemophiliacs who, once they started, were only stopped by death. Possibly this was the same here and his best friend would dry up and shrivel up like baked fruit. Oh, now he felt nauseous.
So was all this really real?
The bed was only for one person.
Two in a one-bed room.
What a nightmare.
.