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When Banjou slipped down the dim stairs in his bare feet, he tried to be quiet. As far as he could tell, nobody was awake in the cafe or apartment behind it, and he couldn't hear any telltale typing or metallic clinking to suggest that Sento might be working on something. In fact, it was silent other than the low whirr of an oscillating fan in the corner of the lab and the clinking of the zippers on his gym bag as he descended.
The bed at the base of the stairs was empty, and Banjou heaved a sigh. All the lights were on, and remembering the state of things when he left, it could only mean one thing.
All day, he had been occupied assisting a hyperactive Sento with yet another attempt at his latest money making scheme- a perpetual energy device. He claimed to be on the brink of discovery, and Banjou suspected he was going on 40 hours without meaningful rest. A catnap for an hour after dinner yesterday, followed by way too many canned coffees, did not count as meaningful rest. Sento was awake when Banjou fell asleep the night before, and awake when he woke up, having barely moved from his focused work at his desk.
As much as Banjou hated it, he knew there was nothing to be done to convince the scientist otherwise- he'd already tried and failed too many times. A large change in Sento’s schematics the night prior had them swapping parts in a frenzy for the majority of the afternoon, and Sento seemed to never let off the gas.
And so, when he was still buzzing with energy and on edge come 11pm, Banjou bade an insistent farewell to Sento- still awake and demanding he stay- and trekked out to bike to the gym. It was easier to go at night anyway, since he was less likely to be recognized or questioned about who he was.
Once there, he set to work, and after less time than he'd expected, he had settled into the routine trance of thinking, yet not thinking while lifting, stretching, and running. Some people compared his mindset to meditation, but he wasn't really concerned with enlightenment; he just wanted to get stronger and maybe get some sleep. He hoped Sento would be in bed when he got home. Before he knew it, a few hours had gone by and the place was empty- the bathing room echoed faintly as he washed the sticky sweat off.
The bicycle ride back to Nascita was quiet too, and with each push of the pedals his calves and thighs burned a little more. It wasn't a long ride, but he could feel the results of his labor tugging his body and mind back towards his futon. By the time he stepped off his bike, he was swaying on his feet from the long day.
Which led him to his current situation. As he rounded the corner into the greater lab area, he scanned the room. The wall clock said sometime around 3AM, marking what could ostensibly be called the middle of the night. Turning further, Banjou finally noticed Sento, and clicked his tongue loudly in disdain. His partner was slumped over his desk, one arm cradling his head as he snored quietly, his breath ruffling the stack of schematics in front of him with every exhale. Banjou rubbed his forehead with one palm, moving further into the room and dropping his gym bag in front of the bathroom door.
"Dumbass," he said in a low voice, "why not just go to bed if you're tired?"
Sento didn't respond, deadened to the world. His mouth hung open a little, and Banjou had to suppress the sudden urge to laugh at the idea of Sento drooling on his precious blueprints. It looked like the scientist had finally crashed, midway through working on something if the screwdriver next to his barely clenched hand had anything to say about it. As funny as the sight was, though, his stomach twisted a little at the weird angle Sento’s neck was at.
As Banjou entered the bathroom and brushed his teeth, somber thoughts circled his mind. The physicist was working hard, maybe too hard, at figuring out a solid future for them in this new world. Things had gotten a little easier since a few of their friends regained some memories; their staying with Misora and Souichi was solidified as long term, and between Gentoku and Sawa, they had the best forged identity documents money could buy on the way. They were stuck now, yeah, but temporarily.
But Sento insisted that they should have more, needed more, they had saved the world so didn't they deserve a nice place and a lot of money? A private glow of warmth lit up in his stomach every time Sento got onto one of his tangents about their future, because it was always their future, not just his own. He rinsed his mouth and shut off the light, leaving the bathroom once more.
Banjou just didn't know where he got all the energy from- energy for tangents, energy to stay up for 40 hours straight, energy to dream about something better than hiding in a basement like the vigilantes they used to be. Banjou had his moments, but he generally felt a bone-deep exhaustion, something deep in his core that wanted nothing but to rest for a few years. Was Sento truly that different?
Sento mumbled something and furrowed his brow, his head slipping a little on his arm, making the angle his neck was at even more uncomfortable looking. Banjou made up his mind before he knew there was even a choice to be made, and approached the desk.
"Yo," he said, and gently tapped Sento’s shoulder. He furrowed his brow more, but didn't awaken.
"Your neck is going to hate you if you don't wake up," Banjou's tapping turned to poking and prodding, but Sento was still dead to the world. He could leave him, but..
"This is ridiculous," Banjou said to the quiet room and his sleeping partner, "You owe me for this, asshole."
Quickly assessing, and maybe cringing a little at himself carrying him in such an embarrassing way, he slid one arm under Sento's limp legs and one behind his lower back, and lifted with his knees. The scientist easily came into his arms, his head lolling against Banjou's shoulder, and even with the full knowledge of his own strength, Banjou was surprised how light he was. Sento had clearly lost some weight, the knobs of his spine pronounced against Banjou’s forearm, the formerly toned legs feeling boney. It gave him another weird twisting sensation in his stomach, and he made the decision to try and keep up with making sure Sento ate at least two meals a day. Almost as if in response to his thoughts, Sento unconsciously turned closer to him, curling his body up a little.
They may have gotten rid of Evolt, but coming to another Earth didn't solve everything. Sento was still overworking himself, and Banjou didn't know how to talk to him, or if helping with his increasingly manic experiments was helping or hurting. He didn't know what to do with his life beyond beating up petty thugs at night and seeing what small difference he could make. With his former life's path no longer an option, he felt like he was drifting aimlessly, and Sento still had some sense of direction. But was it the right direction?
He didn't usually do so much introspection, and thinking in circles like this made him even more tired, so he made his way over to the bed and tried to lay Sento gently onto it. As he was lost in thought, Sento had sleepily clenched the collar of his shirt in one hand. As he dumped the scientist onto the bed, his shirt was yanked at the collar and he fell over a bit too, landing half on the bed on his knees.
"You," he huffed. This was ridiculous. He untangled Sento’s hand from his shirt and rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed when the scientist mumbled something under his breath.
Banjou froze. There was no way Sento could be awake, right? He leaned over, pressing against Sento gently, and peered closer at his face. Even now that he was really looking, he could see signs of long term fatigue everywhere. His cheekbones were poking out more, and his hair was brushing the bottom of his chin by now. The lines on his brow were still barely visible, even though it was slack with sleep, and he wanted to heave a sigh again, wanted to smooth them out with his thumb and make them disappear, and his stomach was sick with guilt over letting Sento stay up so long again, contributing to how weak he seemed, and then Sento sighed deeply, "...wa..rm.." and curled his body up tighter into a ball.
For a brief, unsettling moment, Banjou felt like a cartoon character in the way his heart and muscles both melted, almost like the magma he used when he fought. Yeah, he was warm. Sento always ran cold, and true to his fiery nature Banjou was naturally several degrees above normal on average. Sento chalked it up to a medical anomaly based on his alien DNA, and it had never benefited or really bothered him before, it was just another alien thing for Sento or Kazumi to joke about. Sento often warmed his ice cold hands on the back of Banjou's neck; Misora once said he was hot in more ways than one, and he choked on his coffee while everyone else cackled.
Another decision was made before he could overthink it, and he swung his legs up onto the bed, tucking them closer to Sento. He turned over so their backs were pressed tight against each other, and pulled the sheets up from the tangled mess they were at the end of the bed. It wasn't like they hadn't shared a futon before, during the war, he told himself, it wouldn't be weird or anything.
"Computer, lights out," he mumbled, and Sento's personal assistant chirped it's assent as the room went dim. He slid one arm under his pillow, and with the warm press of an unconscious Sento at his back, he was gone before he could even worry about what waking up would be.
------
Banjou was no stranger to waking up with someone in his arms, being a man who had once been engaged to marry the love of his life. He had long since associated the act with the sensation of love, comfort, and safety, and for a brief moment on the edge of consciousness he thought he smelled Kasumi's perfume. He knew, even as groggy as he was, that it was Sento, remembered the night prior, but something rose in him at the knowledge that she was still with him in some way, because of the man next to him.
Maybe it was that, combined with the warmth of Sento’s back against him, that gave him the edge of boldness he needed to tighten his arms and pull the smaller man closer. He leaned his face in close and rested his cheek on the back of Sento’s head. His wispy hair was so soft, and it caught on the stubble on Banjou's chin a little. He had no idea what time it was, but his hips ached like he had been laying for a while now. It had to be no less than an act of God that had Sento in bed for a full night's rest, Banjou sleepily mused, and pressed even closer to him.
Sento woke up all at once not long after, and it was easy to tell from the way all his muscles tensed at once. Banjou scooted his head back warily, but otherwise didn't move, as he let the scientist assess the situation. He turned a little to look back at Banjou, eyes wide, and avoided his gaze before turning back.
"Hey, what's the idea, idiot? Ever heard of the concept of personal space?" He said tensely, and shoved at Banjou’s arm a little. Banjou just tightened his muscles so they were pressed flush again (shoving down a thrill of excitement deep in his stomach that remembered other ways to wake up with someone) and held firm, "Let me go Banjou, what the hell-"
"That's a nice thank you for carrying you to bed last night," he said, and Sento immediately shut up and ceased his squirming.
"Nobody asked you to do that dumbass, I can take care of myself," he sulked, and even Banjou could hear the chagrin in his voice. It wasn't his intention to make Sento feel bad, though, and he immediately felt like a jerk for it. "Now let me up, what am I, a body pillow, Jeez-"
"No, but I did it anyway, because you never listen to me and I'm worried about you," Banjou interrupted loudly, "And I don't want you to move because I can't tell you this face to face, genius, it's too embarrassing."
God, was the blanket just hot? His cheeks felt flaming just admitting it, and from the way Sento's breathing quickened against his chest he could tell they were both embarrassed. Boldly shoving forward, he continued, voice quiet and urgent, and damn if the words weren't spilling out now, now that he finally had a chance to say them,
"Damn it Sento, have you looked in a mirror lately? You have to be like what, 6? 7 kilos underweight? You sleep maybe 4 nights a week, I never see you eat full meals without Misora handing them to you, you spend all of this time working on a big break to make us money I never asked you to get, what is that? What is going on? I'm afraid.. No, I know you're not taking care of yourself, and I don't like that."
Sento’s body was still frozen against him when he finished, and after a moment he let out a shaky exhale and turned his face further into the pillow. Banjou eyed the back of his head warily with flaming cheeks, and then to his disbelief the scientist kind of relaxed back into his arms and mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow.
"Eh? What?"
Sento reemerged from the pillow and turned to look at him a little, and his heart lifted to see Sento’s face was also brightly flushed, twisted in an expression Banjou didn't know how to interpret. Unpredictable as the prickly scientist was, he could swap moods like the flip of a switch.
"You sure that's Banjou Ryuga in there? Didn't know you were observant like that," and Banjou snorted a little as Sento turned to look away again.
"Well my papers are going to say Kiryu Ryuga, actually," he said, stomach doing a flip. It was something they agreed upon, but he still felt odd, taking Sento’s family name. He supposed it was made up by Evolt either way and thus didn't really have significance, but still.. From the way his head twitched, Banjou could tell Sento was rolling his eyes, and it occurred to him that maybe that might be weird, being able to tell his facial expression from behind.
"Are you doing all this just to talk to me?" Sento asked, and Banjou hummed his assent. Sento made a sad huffing noise and continued.
"It's my fault you can't follow your dreams anymore," he sighed and Banjou frowned, "and I know you had good prospects fighting. I just want to give us a better life than we had before. Is that so bad?"
A key trait of Banjou’s was that he always spoke before thinking and not the other way around, so when he blurted out, "I don't care where we live, as long- " as we're together. He immediately regretted being so open and cut himself off as he flushed a deep crimson, but the well had opened up a little at Sento’s words. Guilt washed over him, sick and hot.
"I'd rather live in this basement another year than watch you turn into a skeleton who never sleeps." To his surprise, Sento laughed.
"Oi, you make me sound like some kind of RPG monster, come on," he whined, and the guilt slid back from Banjou's heart. If Sento was taking this so well, maybe he did see what Banjou was saying. Banjou reached up and ruffled Sento’s hair, risking letting the man free of his arms.
"Basement dweller, level 27," Banjou joked. Sento, to no surprise, immediately slid out of his grasp and stood on unsteady feet with a little 'ha!' of triumph. Banjou could practically see the moment slipping away, but he was satisfied having gotten his point across. "Okay, walk away, but we're getting hot pot later, and you're not getting up til you finish 3 portions."
The scientist stuck his tongue out and walked away from the bed towards the bathroom, and Banjou slid his legs out to sit on the edge of the bed facing him. Before he could say anything, Sento called a soft oi, musclehead. He looked up to see him standing in the doorway, long hair sticking flat to his head on one side from the pillow. The outcome was an unnecessarily cute image that had Banjou's heart fluttering weirdly.
"Did you sleep well?" He asked quietly, not meeting Banjou's eyes, almost looking at the ceiling in fact, his ears flaming red.
Oi, what is this guy trying to do to me?
"Yeah," he said, "I slept really well," and suddenly Sento wasn't the only one blushing all up his chest and neck.
"Me too," Sento said, and was it possible for Banjou to blush even more than he already was? He could barely see past how hot his cheeks felt, as Sento continued, "Maybe you can help me sleep again sometime."
And he quickly scurried into the bathroom, slamming the door a little behind him, leaving a confused Banjou blinking owlishly behind him, feeling hot all over.
Eh?