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Uki found the weather rather pleasant, considering it was smack dab in the middle of June.
He didn’t even like the summer, far too hot and sweaty (gross). Nights like these were rare — most were warm and stuffy, air still, fuzzy with the rattling of cicadas. But tonight, there was a slight chill, a light breeze, and bright stars twinkling in the clear sky — like waning sunlight reflecting off of a quiet ocean surface. The faint scent of violets and hydrangeas lingered in the air, adding to the sweetness of the night.
It brought him back to that strangely peaceful night when he ran away from the Institution many years ago.
The Institution... He no longer remembered its actual name, nor many of the details of that life. Perhaps amnesia was a side effect of traveling through space and time. If he had been stronger then… perhaps it would have hurt his adolescent self less, ripping through the fabric of the universe. Maybe he could have kept his memories too.
Or maybe the amnesia was the result of something darker, like whatever the Institution had been doing to the kids who lived there.
Or maybe, subconsciously, Uki just didn't want to remember, and his brain was just doing him a favor. Plausible, because even without the majority of the picture, he figured that whatever had gone on in there must have been pretty bad. The only conscious remnants he had from that timeline were feelings of overwhelming suffocation whenever he attempted to dig too deeply into it — so he tried not to.
It was in his best interest to always keep his mind from wandering, but saying that was one thing, and actually being able to do it was another. Awake, it was difficult, but at least doable. Asleep? It was out of his hands, and boy, was it out of his hands often.
If he happened to see glimpses of his past in a dream, it would be like drowning in molten lava — frighteningly dark, searingly bright, heart-stoppingly cold, flesh-meltingly hot, all at the same time, as if his body was trying to get him to WAKE!! UP!!! and run as far away as possible, even though he had already traveled many worlds away from the Institution.
Damn the heavens for giving him the ability to read minds but the inability to peer into the black box that was his own.
That was the reason he had slipped outside at three in the morning — in hopes of clearing his mind and freeing himself of the aftereffects of such a nightmare — yet there he was. Being reminded of it all by something as innocuous as the weather. Uki let out a bitter laugh, plucking at the flattened blades of grass beneath his palms.
The universe sure had its ways, huh? Ha. Fuck that.
Fuckkkkk that.
He closed his eyes, humming along to a melody he didn't know exactly where to place in space and time, only that it had been with him since he had arrived in this timeline. Unlike most things from his past, the melody was soothing. Aloe vera over a blistering burn. Flow of a steady stream, smoothing out jagged stones along a winding riverbank. Uki held onto it tightly, like it was the last piece of his old life that he had in his possession, like he'd lose a part of himself (or maybe even his entirety) if he let this slip through his fingers too.
"Uki?" A voice rang out in the darkness.
He blinked, calmly slipping out from his thoughts despite the sudden disturbance. Not because he had already predicted this moment with his psychic abilities — he tried to suppress his powers whenever he could — but because he knew that voice like he knew the constellations in the sky (and he knew those better than the back of his hand, probably).
"Fufu-chan."
The cyborg was dressed in sweats and a gaudy red "SHIZUN FUCKER" T-shirt, a birthday present the Noctyx boys had collectively gifted him as a joke in the first full year they had spent together. Only, Fulgur had actually been elated when he saw the offensive shirt and ended up wearing it as often as hygienically permissible, much to the chagrin of everyone in the Noctyx house. Well, the other three boys actually found it hilarious. He found it horrible. It was only barely acceptable because Fufu-chan was cute. Uki still preferred the shirt off. Only because it was too ugly to look at. Not for any other reason.
(Anyway.)
Fulgur took a seat on the ground beside him, silently draping a jacket over Uki's shoulders before making himself comfortable on the grass. Uki recognized it as Fulgur's own jacket, black and red, just like his cyborg limbs.
"Thanks," he managed. "You're not cold?"
"Nah. It's not that cold today anyway. Plus, I got these." Fulgur lifted his bare metal arms. "Self-heating system."
“Oh, right. That's convenient."
Fulgur hummed in response, and neither of them spoke after that, leaving silence suspended in the air between their bodies.
Uki stared up at the stars, searching for something to say. This wasn't the first time he had escaped into the night, but he had always been alone to ruminate in his thoughts. Now, faced with someone to share the silence with…
Suddenly, he felt a metal finger poke at his cheek.
"Wha—" he startled, turning quickly to face the other. "What was that for?" Fulgur was grinning, retracting his hand from Uki's face. (And Uki definitely did not feel like chasing after its warmth.)
"Good, now you're not frowning anymore. That's bad for your skin, you know. You're gonna get wrinkles." He smiled cheekily.
Uki scrunched his nose and scoffed. "Says you, you don't even have a skincare routine. I take care of mine."
Fulgur shrugged. "Don't need one, my skin is flawless even without trying. Though on second thought, you'd still look pretty cute even with wrinkles. ‘Cause you're always cute," he teased, letting out a laugh.
Uki felt a heat rise to his cheeks, heart skipping. He prayed that the night was at least dark enough to hide his flush.
"Uh yeah, I know that. Of course I am." He paused, clearing his throat. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?" He had tried to be as quiet as possible leaving his room, but Alban left a bunch of random “borrowed” crap lying around in the hallway in front of his room like a damn child and Uki lacked the foresight (how ironic) to maneuver around all of it.
“Oh no no, you’re good.” Fulgur shook his head, his hair a shimmering silver halo about his face. “Don’t worry about it, I was still awake doing some writing. Was hoping some fresh air would help me get the right words down. I didn’t expect to see you here as well, you doing okay?”
“Yeah. Just…” Uki’s mind blanked. “I just wanted to look at the stars.” He didn’t elaborate, hoping that he wouldn’t question him any further. It was technically the truth, anyway. For someone who underwent a star-related experience as traumatic as one falling into his eye, Uki still loved stargazing. A great activity to escape the pains of thinking and existing.
Ten out of ten, would recommend.
Fulgur nodded slowly. A beat of quiet. “Is that why you go out almost every night? To stargaze? Not because of… nightmares or anything?” He picked at a blade of glass awkwardly, avoiding Uki’s gaze.
Oh. Fuck. So he knew. And here he thought he had actually been sneaky about his mid-night escapades.
After a moment, Fulgur looked up at him.
He must’ve been making a rather complicated face, because a look of panic flashed on Fulgur’s face and he started floundering around.
“Er… to be honest, you know I have really good hearing right? Because of my enhanced auditory nervous system… and I didn’t want to confront you about it, ‘cause I mean it’s not my business that you sometimes cry at night, you know? Shit. I meant it’s none of my business what you have nightmares about— uh… none of my business what you’re secretly up to…?” Fulgur trailed off. “Wait, now that just sounds sus doesn’t it. Shit.”
He watched Fulgur’s face shift through ten different shades of mortified before settling on looking utterly deflated, all puppy eyes and cute pout.
The dread Uki felt from finding out that someone else knew about his nightmares had all but fully dissipated upon hearing the other man trip all over himself trying to get the right words out. Laughter bubbled from his lips, spilling over and dissolving the tension between them. He hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about his struggles, but maybe it was okay if the first one to know was this dense, awkward cyborg.
Fulgur’s shoulders relaxed upon hearing him laugh. “Sorry, I really don’t mean to listen in or anything, it’s just that sometimes I can hear you even with my headphones on?” A pause. “Not! that you’re super loud or anything, I swear! I just have, like, really good hearing. I don’t even think a normal person could hear you if they were standing literally just outside your door honestly, it’s just these super-hearing cyborg ears of mine, they’re—”
He clapped a hand over Fulgur’s mouth, effectively shutting him up. “Stop. You’re going to give me a headache. How do you even have that much energy this late at night…” Uki rolled his eyes, only removing his hand once Fulgur looked like he would stop talking a mile a minute.
He looked like he wanted to say something, mouth gaping like a fish, but he didn’t, and the two sat in silence before Uki spoke again.
“Lately, I've been getting nightmares about my past.”
Fulgur nodded wordlessly.
“Of when I was still at the Institution." The words felt strained leaving his lips.
Only the gentle rustling of leaves could be heard.
Uki continued, fighting the constricting feeling in his throat. "They're more like visions than nightmares really, because I know they're memories of something. They're just, not very clear, and they usually leave me with more questions than answers.” He fiddled with the sleeve of the jacket hanging over his shoulders. “Fuck, it's hard to explain. It just… makes me feel a certain way I know is familiar."
"...And how does it make you feel?" Fulgur asked quietly.
Anxious. Scared. Suffocated. Numb. Lost. Uki swallowed, chest feeling tight. This was exactly why he never wanted to talk about this. He never even wanted to think about it. Fuck. "Not,” he mustered. “Not good.” His voice caught in his throat. Fucking hell. He wasn’t going to cry today. He wasn't going to cry.
His eyes stung. Fuck.
Wordlessly, Fulgur pulled him into a hug, metal arms sliding tenderly around his back, tugging him closer until the space between them dwindled to nothing.
The faint scent of sea salt and sage filled his head, his mouth, his lungs, lifting the fog from his mind.
Everything he had been holding back for the past few months came rushing out as he sank into the embrace.
He let out a muffled sob, burying his face into Fulgur’s shirt, still tacky, bright red, and now probably damp because of the tears freely streaming from his eyes. There was probably snot too. Uki pulled away. “Fuck. Your shirt’s all gross now. Sorry.”
“Hey, don’t apologize for anything. It’s just a shirt, don’t worry about it.” Fulgur gently brought him back into his arms. His hands rubbed slow circles into his back, surprisingly gentle for all its military-grade titanium and carbon-fiber. “I thought you hated this shirt anyway,” he teased.“I do hate it." Dummy. "Still."
Fulgur chuckled, continuing to pat Uki’s back until his tears had dried up and his body had all but completely melted into the touch, limbs heavy like molten lead.
Uki wondered if they stayed like that long enough they would just fuse together like two slowly colliding stars. Then they’d form a singular, newer, bigger, and brighter star, and then, maybe then he would never have to be alone again.
Somewhere in the distance, the chirping of morningbirds sounded into the night.
"You okay now, Uki?" Fulgur’s hands paused as he pulled away briefly. Uki whined softly at the sudden loss of heat.
"Mm… I’m okay now," he mumbled. He struggled to keep his eyes open, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He tried to meet Fulgur’s gaze, those pale gray eyes searching his own pink and purple ones as if they held the answers to the universe. He supposed one of them actually did. It was only that sometimes he’d rather just leave the universe’s mysteries unanswered. Not that he had much of a choice. “Can you keep doing that though? Feels nice.”
Fulgur's worried frown morphed into a small smile. “Of course, baby.”
Uki flushed in embarrassment. The pet name wasn't even anything new; they had called each other 'babe' and 'baby' plenty of times, but now that they were alone, so close, bodies pressed together… "Thanks," he mumbled.
He leaned back into the warmth of Fulgur’s palms. They pressed into his back, firm and gentle. The heat traveled up and down his back, shoulder-to-shoulder, tracing his spine, going over his shoulder blades. He shuddered, the other's touch leaving a trail of fire behind even through the layers of his clothing. Fingers made their way up to his bare neck and Uki let out a quiet gasp.
Fulgur stopped moving.
Fuck. Now he's made it weird. Stupid sensitive neck, stupid fucking feelings. Stupid him for ruining everything nice.
But before he could apologize, Fulgur was moving again, gently thumbing at the space between his neck and jaw, brushing past his mole. Uki inhaled shakily.
The other wandered upwards, fingers slipping into his hair, gently carding through the strands. A hand held him steady at the small of his back, lightly pressed into his waist.
Uki tried to suppress the urge to make any noise, but his sleep-addled brain could only filter so much and he let out a shaky breath instead. He pulled away slightly to look at the other’s face, and Fulgur grazed his thumb lightly against his cheek, brushing at the corner of his lips.
Fulgur whispered, “You okay?”
“… Yeah,” he breathed quietly.
“Good.” The warmth of Fulgur’s breath tickled his face.
Uki fixated on Fulgur’s mouth as it moved, watching as a pink tongue darted out to swipe at his lip. Followed the slope of his nose upwards to meet his eyes, which stared back with an unspoken intensity.
Uki wanted more.
Fuck it.
He leaned in. “Can I?”
His heart thrummed in his chest, a thunderstorm raging within, lightning striking at every crevice of his heart. If he was a stronger man, he might’ve had it in him to hold back for the sake of preserving whatever it was that they had between them. But he was weak, and maybe he wanted to be weak, because if there was a chance, any chance at all that the feelings that had been growing for years weren’t his alone—
Fulgur closed the gap between them.
And then they were kissing.
Uki had envisioned the moment countless times before, scenarios played out in a part of his mind where alternate timelines, the future of this timeline, and wishful thinking all blurred together.
A quiet kiss, behind the dusty shelves of an old bookstore, tucked deep into a cramped alleyway where more cats lived than people ever walked by.
A loud one, fierce and needy, pressed against the fire-red brick wall of a random nightclub in a dystopian cybernetic metropolis.
An innocent one, on the cheek, as a shy graduation present. Uki was the one that initiated, but Fulgur picked the cherry blossoms out of his hair afterwards and then asked him out. (That made it even.)
A frantic one, desperate and tearful, a final goodbye, as explosions sounded and buildings crumbled all around them.
A silly kiss, messy and semi-annoyed because they were mid-baking when Fulgur insisted on eating the buttercream before the cake was even ready — in their struggle they had somehow ended up sprawled together on the kitchen floor, limbs tangled.
But none were like this one, because this one was real, present, and tangible.
Uki gasped against Fulgur's mouth as they pressed together closer, closer, closer, until he was sitting on the other’s lap, knees parted on either side of his steel legs. He grasped at his shirt, crumpling the fabric in his hands. Fulgur kept a steady hand on his waist, preventing the both of them from toppling over onto the grass.
“Slow down, baby,” Fulgur murmured, a featherlight brush of his lips against Uki's.
“What if I don’t want to?” Uki huffed. “Fufu-chan, but what if I don’t want to?” He had waited so long for this, how could he possibly—
“Slow down,” Fulgur repeated softly, flipping them over so that Uki was caged under his body, wrists pinned together above his head.
“But—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Fulgur pecked his forehead, then the tip of the nose, pressing chaste kisses down Uki’s face to his jaw.
“I’ll be here—” whispering into the junction between his neck and shoulder "—for as long as you want me here.” His voice was deep as he left more kisses on his neck. “So let’s just take our time. Okay?”
Uki groaned at the sensation of the other’s lips on his skin. Unfair. How was he supposed to stay stubborn when this dumb cyborg was so damn sweet?
Fulgur pulled away, eyes dripping with an impossible amount of adoration as they searched his own for an answer.
Unfair.
"Yeah, yeah, fine,” he exhaled with a roll of his eyes, willing exasperation into his voice. But he wasn’t one to back down without at least a little bit of a fight — he had far too much pride for that. He grinned. Well, two can play at this game.
“I mean…”
Fulgur had slightly loosened his grip on his wrists and Uki took the opportunity to free himself, hooking his arms around his neck, tugging his face closer until they were only inches apart.
He breathed into his ear. "I usually like it faster, but just for you Fufu-chan, I’ll indulge.”
“You usually like… faster, what faster—”
Uki’s grin widened, and he held back a laugh. “You’ll still leave me out of breath though, right Fufu-chan?” He drew out his words in the most seductive voice he could muster. “Onegai? Onegaishimasu…”
Fulgur coughed, face burning as red as his arms. “You can’t just say that, Uki!”
“Aww, babe, why not? You don’t want to?” he pouted, making sure that the other caught his expression.
And caught it he did, gaze lingering on his puckered lips. Uki took his lower lip between his teeth and, to his satisfaction, the cyborg audibly gulped at the sight. Ha, gotcha.
“Well. I didn’t say that…”
“Oh?”
“Mmm… can’t exactly say no when you're being like this, can I?" Fulgur grinned. “I can never say no to you,” his voice softened.
"Good.” He pecked him on the lips. "That's what I like to hear."
Then Fulgur’s fingers were in his hair again, cradling his head off the ground as they tumbled around in the grass, the slowly rising sun washing away the darkness of the night like the ocean’s tides washing away dirt from the sea shore.
-
And when Uki finally fell asleep, for the first time in a long while, he did not dream. Not of the Institution. Not of his parents, nor of the song that had followed him from his childhood. Not of the past, nor of the future.
Not even of a dorky, loving cyborg, somewhere, sometime, with a different Uki of a different timeline. Not even of the Fulgur Ovid of this timeline, as blissful as those dreams were.
Because when he woke up, sprawled out in his bed at three in the afternoon, he was there, stumbling through the doorway with a tray of scrambled eggs and coffee in his hands and all the light in his eyes — and that was far better than any dream.
(“So about last night… am I forgiven for all that accidental eavesdropping?”)
(“I—”)
(“I love you?”)
(“... I love you too.”)