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Were they trying to tell him something with that song choice?
Why was he in the thumbnail?
Why was he still thinking about it over a month later and a few hours from dawn?
After wrapping up his stream at three am and finally getting into his small bed an hour after that, Temma wasn’t too surprised that he was still awake but usually when he was attempting to drift off to sleep his thoughts didn’t hyper-focus on one irrelevant thing like this.
It was usually at least three or four highly irrelevant things and maybe one important thing that he didn’t want to think about this early.
Rolling onto his side and curling his body up he attempted to steer his mind to something else that would allow him to sleep, okra maybe?
Think about okra.
Okra with soy sauce, okra with sesame seed oil-
Okra was high in fiber and had a notable amount of vitamin C.
The new restaurant nearby had spicy fried rice with okra on the menu, maybe he could invite Astel out-
No.
He tried to think about food in general as a last-ditch effort to redirect his thoughts but that eventually leads to broccoli which leads back to Astel, and again to the cover with Miyabi...so he gave in.
Fine, he will think about them, with all the time that they have had together lately it was only natural that they kept invading his thoughts.
Time spent dwelling on relationships was often a waste of time, it was always better to bite the bullet and just talk but he wasn’t exactly sure what he would say yet.
He closed his eyes and waited to either come to a conclusion or fall asleep.
In that unique disorientation that comes in the space between wakefulness and dreaming the first scene that he found himself in was with his head in Miyabis's lap, a gentle hand in his hair, the extra warmth of the overhead sun was nice to imagine on his chilled real-world body.
His room was so cold in the winter.
Miyabi’s thighs are always so soft, and he cradles his expensive pillow closer to his body, the scent isn’t there and the pillow itself is missing the right texture but he can pretend it's enough-its just as soft at least.
When he looks up, Miyabi’s hair is slightly tousled and his face is flushed but there's a soft smile on his face as he looks down at him.
The chill in the room fades more and more as he surrenders to the warm not-quite memory.
The hand in his hair scratched lightly at his scalp, sending a little shiver through his body before it moved to brush over his ear with a mischievous chuckle-even here he gets teased.
He wanted to whine and slap at the offending, tickling hand but just as he started to raise his hand he became aware that he was now in a bed- well another, different bed that was just as slim as his actual bed but the covers didn’t feel right and the smell was all wrong-
The camping trip bed?
The familiar warmth of Miyabi at his back and the offending hand was curled around his hip but now Astel was there too, in his arms. His slim body is shaking with suppressed laughter-something he had said?
Was he laughing at him? It didn't really matter, all he wants to do is pull him closer and then-
you had him in your arms before you could’ve done that and more
so he thought about that, what if he had kissed him breathless instead of spinning him around-
he probably would’ve pushed him away, but it seemed like a good idea right now.
Like the lyrics said, maybe he was being a little selfish but the experience was so different between both of them, how could he not desire both?
It’s so simple and easy with Miyabi, they didn’t even have to talk to one another sometimes and he liked that, laying next to one another staring at their respective phones can easily turn into slow, lazy kisses and then back again. They don’t demand too much from one another and Miyabi understood the need for and craved his own space as well.
Laid back, easy, he didn’t really need to think about it.
With Astel, however, they didn't fit together nearly as well but that was part of the appeal. That push and pull of trying to draw each other into their respective interests was an interesting challenge.
He could easily bring up the memory of Astel patiently listening as he explained the technique of keeping a back aerials momentum while approaching in smash. It was obvious he wasn’t that into it but he did try.
The way he was able to throw him off into giggling fits was a feeling that was close to victory too.
There was always a strong feeling of eagerness behind those attempts to find a stronger common ground and part of him really enjoyed that, coming from someone like Astel seeking his approval or acknowledgment?
It was a strange feeling and he wasn't sure that he wasn't being teased in another way or if he was just imagining the whole thing.
On the other side Astel was still fighting to get him to go with him to a theme park, Disney, USJ, anything at all, but he enjoyed being a little stubborn about it, being pursued in a way Miyabi would never do, if he said no to any of his requests he would probably never ask again, Astel will ask again.
Not right away but without fail he would ask once more and then he would take the rejection-but maybe he was waiting for him to do the inviting?
A part of him enjoys the whole situation.
Some of it was actually being busy but-
He deserves to be chased, doesn't he?
The mental landscape scrambles again and with a floaty detached feeling he found himself looking at another Temma, dressed casually in his black undershirt and white pants.
The hands of this Temma were tied in front of him, the silky-smooth blue fabric of his tie wrapped in elegant knots around his wrists. He sat there in the corner across from a sofa, and he realized with a jolt that this was the room from the illustration, the couch, the TV, and even the empty pudding cup was included.
Dream fog made this easy to accept, why wouldn’t there be another Temma here, of course, he belonged here.
He followed the other Temma’s gaze.
On the couch were his two friends, making out without a care in the world.
The Miyabi of his dreams was usually just a shade too yielding, a little too generous but that wasn’t the case here, he nipped at the lips that came close to his, twisted his body away with a laugh, he watched on, fascinated as they made a competition of their foreplay.
Astel straddled Miyabi, legs on either side of his body keeping him in place as his hands roamed under the black turtleneck, every kiss that he managed to steal broke off with a scattering of near breathless laughter as Astel tickled the sensitive skin of Miyabi’s sides.
Miyabi was panting heavily and his movements were starting to slow down, his stamina not able to withstand this kind of attack.
"Alright, I give in, please-"
He doesn't get to hear what the rest was going to be as Astel immediately stopped the motion of his hands to kiss Miyabi again.
It seemed like a very inefficient way to do this.
You're jealous though, aren't you? Include me, I want to play. That little voice was mocking and cold, the whine to the words feeling less like a joke and making him feel disgusted with how needy he felt, even in the privacy of his own dream.
Reality wouldn’t be this easy, he would have to make time and he was already so busy and tired and-this was his dream anyway, shouldn't they be paying attention to him?
A touch on his face startled him-wait, when did his perspective change? He can feel the silky fabric around his wrists now, the erection uncomfortably confined in his pants, this Temma clearly didn't care about the efficiency of the scene he had watched.
"Now, what's this? A Kishido Temma that regrets some of his actions? What a pitiful expression."
Astel's voice, Astel’s hands cupping his face, tilting his head upwards.
When he opens his mouth to defend himself, he is kept silent with a kiss, despite all the teasing he does Astel is very light, soft lips pressed against his without any force or demand for more, just an all too brief moment.
Astel broke the kiss but stayed there, their foreheads touching- all he can focus on are his slightly parted lips.
Again he is denied the ability to pull him close, he worked his wrists against the knots but it didn't give at all.
"Temma doesn’t think of us at all, Leda. Can’t you tell?" Miyabi says it softly, too close to his sensitive ears and he couldn’t help the small shudder that ran through his body in response.
Astel traced his fingers along his jaw in the meantime before leaning closer to kiss him again soft and slow, you could never be quite sure of what he said but he always kissed him in a very heartfelt way- like he really meant it and he was so hungry and cold- the real world leaking in a little.
One hand pressed against the bulge in his pants, going from too light to too much in seconds, making him break the kiss this time with a whimper of half pain. Another hand placed itself against his chest to hold him against the wall.
“Feels good Ten-Ten?” The hand- Miyabis's hand squeezes once more, a lot less painful and the gentle pressure caused him to spread his legs further apart slightly with a little whine.
They both laugh, Astel’s breathy and Miyabi’s low.
"He deserves to be messed with just a little more, don't you think? Just until he begs a little." Miyabi again, his voice shockingly loud as the pressure against his chest grows, more hands push him down and he closed his eyes…
A gasp and he was awake, that disorienting feeling of falling off of the bed, of being pushed caused his heart to race in his chest.
The lingering warmth of the dream and the heat from his face quickly faded away, leaving him there on his bed with a morning erection that made him feel like a teenager in its insistence to be dealt with, cold, and hungry on his narrow bed alone and no closer to understanding the cover at all.