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Late on a Saturday afternoon, Shoyo was staying at Kei’s house overnight, his fellow first year agreeing to help him study. The work thus far had been hellish with much criticism from Kei, but as the sun fell closer to the horizon, his mood lightened and his comments became fewer and further between, much to the relief of Shoyo. Although, there were still some that fell through.
Shoyo grumbled where he sat, Kei sitting opposite to him. Kei sat with his arms crossed as steam steadily tumbled from Shoyo’s ears. “I hate english.”
“So does a good majority of the world, but there’s no use taking that up with me.”
“What does this word here even mean? What does it say?” he pointed at the page of a passage he was assigned in class.
“Might I,” quavered Mary, “might I have a bit of earth?”
In her eagerness she did not realize how queer the words would sound and that they were not the ones she had meant to say. Mr. Craven looked quite startled.
“Earth!” he repeated. “What do you mean?”
“To plant seeds in—to make things grow—to see them come alive,” Mary faltered.
“It says ‘quavered’,” Kei said softly. “Not a common word.” He mumbled under his breath, grabbing the passage from him. “Odd that you were assigned this. It’s definitely above your mental capacity.”
“Tsukishima!” Shoyo growled. “Can you just answer the question?”
“It means her voice was shaky,” he explained, passing it back. “Now, can you just keep reading? Start from the top. Read it now and I’ll answer your questions when you're done.”
“Fine, jerk.”
“You asked for my help,” Kei reminded him. “I can make you go home whenever i please.”
Shoyo grumbled, looking back down at the page. “‘Might I,’—uh—quavered Mary, ‘might I have a bit of—uh—” he looked up at Kei.
“Earth.”
“Earth!” he said with a nod. “‘Might I have a bit of earth?’ In her—um—eager—eagerness—” he scratched his head, speaking slowly.
“In her eagerness she did not realize how—uh—queer? She did not realize how queer the words would sound and that they were not the—um—the ones she had meant to say.” He looked up at Kei reluctantly.
“You’re fine, keep going.”
“Mr. Craven looked quite—eh—startled? Yeah, startled,” he said, enunciating each word carefully.
“‘Earth!’ he repeated. ‘What do you mean?’
“‘To plant seeds in—to make things grow—to see them come—uh—come alive,’ Mary—ah—” he squinted at the page. “Mary faltered.”
“Good job,” Kei said. “You got through it. I’m honestly a little surprised.”
“Shut up, Tsukishima, I’m not that stupid,” Shoyo whined. “Now can you answer my questions?”
“I suppose I could,” he said, looking at his nails.
Shoyo sighed. “Okay, what does the word ‘eagerness’ mean?”
“Kinda like excitement. It means she really wanted to ask.”
Shoyo nodded. “Okay, and what about the word ‘queer’?”
“In this context, it means that the words sounded odd when she said them.”
“Right, right, and ‘faltered’?”
“Hesitated,” Kei said dismissively. “Come on, that one wasn’t even that difficult.”
Shoyo yawned, rubbing at his eye. “Give me a break, will you? Unlike you, I’m not in a college prep class and I’m really tired right now. Practice wore me out.”
Kei sat silent in thought for a moment. “You can take a nap on the bed once you’ve finished your assignment. You still have to answer some questions, remember?”
“Wait, you don’t care if I sleep in here?” Shoyo shot Kei a confused expression.
“As long as you’re not annoying about it,” he said, looking away.
Shoyo smirked. He stretched up into another yawn. “Okay, thanks Tsukishima.”
“Shut up and do your work.”
Shoyo chuckled. He returned to his English work, forging away at the various problems. His eyelids became heavier with each question, punctuated by the occasional yawn.
Kei sighed, grabbing a book from off his desk, and opened it to a bookmarked page. He began to read in silence, sparing glances at Shoyo every once in a while. His gaze hung on his eyelashes, his cheeks, his lips, and even his lips here and there. He attempted not to show any obvious signs of watching him.
Shoyo looked up from his worksheet. “You alright, Tsukishima?”
“You’re loud.”
“Sure,” Shoyo said with a sharp exhale through his nose. He wrote in the last answer on the worksheet, stretching with a pop in his lower back. “How’d I do?” he asked, handing the sheet off to Kei.
Kei took it. He skimmed over the answers with a shrug. “It’s probably fine. You can fix it after you get some sleep. I can tell your already struggling brain is on low battery over there. I’ll sleep later.” He glanced toward his queen sized bed.
“Would it kill you to be nicer about it?” Shoyo asked. He got up and plopped onto the bed, immediately melting into the plush bedding.
“Possibly,” he said. “Can’t risk your stupidity being contagious.”
“Agh, quit it with that,” he mumbled, drifting off to sleep. His breathing evened out and his body relaxed along with his face.
Kei continued reading his book, pretending to ignore Shoyo. He turned a page, spinning around in his chair slowly. He placed his open book against his lips, watching Shoyo sleep. He smiled softly as he gazed at his angelic face.
He set his bookmark into his book and closed it, setting it gently onto the table. He pulled his headphones over his ears and began playing quiet music. Standing up, he moved carefully over to his bed, sitting down on his bed beside Shoyo. His gaze flowed over Shoyo’s features. He reached a hand out and brushed the back of his palm over his cheek.
In his sleep, Shoyo nuzzled against his hand, shifting closer to Kei.
Kei blushed softly with a sigh. He scooted himself right next to Shoyo and carefully pulled his head into his own lap.
Shoyo hummed, curling up beside him. He mumbled unintelligible words to himself as he continued to snore softly.
Kei ran a hand through his hair slowly, relishing in the softness of the strands. He hummed along to his music absentmindedly, letting his mind drift as he looked at Shoyo. Sunlight came in through the window, tinged gold in the oncoming dusk and sparkled, intermingled with the brightness of Shoyo’s hair, breathtaking in its glow.
He yawned quietly, Shoyo’s sleepiness getting to him. Cradling Shoyo carefully, he shuffled them both back until he could lean against his pillows. He relaxed, closing his eyes as he continued to hum and play with Shoyo’s hair.
A few minutes later, Shoyo stirred slightly, hearing a faint voice beside him. He felt a hand in his hair, so he remained still and kept his eyes closed as he listened more closely. Once sleep had cleared from his brain, he realized that the voice he heard was Kei and smiled, keeping his eyes shut tight. He nuzzled against his thigh, startling Kei.
Kei flinched back for a moment, his humming paused, before digging his hands back into the orange fluff reluctantly with a hesitant sigh. His voice resumed, the sound wrapping around Shoyo delicately and hugging him gently.
Shoyo drifted off once more, now to the sound of an unknown melody floating in his ears.
The sky had fallen dark when Shoyo next awoke, looking around with confused, tired eyes. He noticed Kei asleep, propped up onto his pillows. He giggled quietly and crawled closer to him. He took in his sleeping face. It was rare for his face to not be adorned with a frown, so seeing it so peaceful was a bit of a shock for him. He delicately pulled off his glasses and set them on his nightstand along with his headphones. With the items out of the way, Shoyo laid next to him, curling into his side.
Feeling warmth beside him, Kei turned in his sleep and wrapped his arms around Shoyo loosely.
Shoyo giggled once more and leaned up, placing a kiss on the sleeping Kei’s cheek.
The next morning, Kei awoke to an unexpected sight. Shoyo was already awake and looking at him expectantly. He blushed deeply with a scowl. “What the hell are you doing? Get off of me.”
“You’re the one holding me,” Shoyo pointed out.
Kei looked down, pulling his hands away. “Okay, now go, I don’t want to catch your stupidity.”
“I already told you that kind of thing isn’t contagious.”
“It is if it’s you.”
“Well, then I guess we’ll have to build up your immunity through exposure, then, won’t we?” He placed his hands on Kei’s waist suggestively.
Kei grimaced. “I doubt that will work.”
“But could you try it?” Shoyo asked softly, moving his hands up Kei’s chest.
Kei shivered. “I guess I could.” He leaned down and hesitantly kissed Shoyo. He pulled away for just a moment before leaning down once more and kissing him fully.
They parted with a gasp and Shoyo giggled. “Sorry, maybe it is contagious.”
“Shut up.”
The two continued to kiss, the morning bathing them in gentle light. The days ahead of them started to look filled with, perhaps, a smidge of contagious stupidity. Regardless, it didn’t faze them.