Work Text:
The room was quiet. The clock on Josuke’s nightstand changed silently, the digital numbers morphing into the next, the passing of time as subtle as the mood. For what seemed like hours, the only noises were the ruffling of blankets and sheets, maybe a quiet intake of breath.
Otherwise, nothing. It was truly, tensingly quiet.
The intimacy felt taboo. The position felt awkward. Hands hesitated and settled on a spot they didn’t truly feel right in, before drifting to an unoccupied space that fit better. Legs flexed and straightened at random, trying to accommodate for the gangly mess of teenage limbs thrown together under the blanket. Knees knocked and cold feet were hastily yanked back, but no apologies or excuses were provided. Each misstep was corrected wordlessly, unspoken rules being dutifully followed.
Eye contact was avoided, words were not shared, and breaths were short and uneasy.
The anxiety running through Josuke’s veins was acidly sharp, the heartbeat thudding throughout his entire body clouding his mind in a thick haze of fog. He couldn’t quite tell where his body ended and Okuyasu’s started, the two of them intertwined and interlocked, like a puzzle that was still quite confusing, but if you looked close enough, you could see where the pieces fit together.
Okuyasu had kept his head tucked into Josuke’s shoulder for as long as they had been in bed together, his silence not as heavy as Josuke had expected. Josuke swallowed dryly, his hands awkwardly skimming up and down Okuyasu’s back, the movement reserved, but full of as much affection as he could muster. Okuyasu had long since relaxed into the touch and Josuke took the small achievement with pride, allowing himself that victory.
It was comfortable- Okayasu was comfortable- and that clearly meant that Josuke was doing something right. That was good.
Josuke had taken his hair down before the two settled. Okuyasu hadn’t taken his eyes off Josuke while the teen had brushed out the hairdo, routinely washing out the hairspray and gel. Now, the hair hung in front of his eyes slightly, the length much longer than it would be if it was still up, and Josuke tried to recapture the feeling that had burst from his chest when Okuyasu had asked to feel his hair.
“It’s so soft, bro. I like it.”
Josuke blushed, hairbrush resting on his knee, his and Okuyasu’s thighs touching from their close proximity on the bed. His best friend’s hand was carding through his bangs and the movement sent fireworks through Josuke’s body.
“Th-Thanks..”
Josuke had never felt as vulnerable as when Okuyasu had looked at him like that. It distantly occurred to him that that was the first time Okuyasu had seen his hair down.
It also occurred to him that Okuyasu’s arm was draped over his waist and hadn’t moved since it was put there, but some revelations can wait until later.
Josuke desperately wanted to say something, even if it was something dumb and irrelevant, but he was scared that any disruption would ruin the moment, would shatter the illusion of normalcy they had thrown together.
Because this wasn’t normal- right? It couldn’t be. Okuyasu didn’t sleep in the same bed as Koichi, and neither did Josuke, so why were they doing this? Friends wouldn’t do this, friends couldn’t do this. Everything about this was wrong.
…So why did it feel so right?
Okuyasu shifted and Josuke tried not to flinch, staying as still as he could manage. A small part of Josuke’s brain was screaming that Okuyasu was about to leave, but all the other boy did was wrap his arms around Josuke and pull him closer, so the two were properly hugging now.
Josuke blinked and his eyes met Okuyasu’s.
Eye contact was avoided, words were not shared, and breaths were short and uneasy - that’s what Josuke had prepared himself for.
Okuyasu smiled and tucked his head back into the crook of Josuke’s neck.
Josuke swallowed thickly. The quiet had never seemed so loud before.