Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Toya’s heart is pounding.

He’s running, stumbling, struggling not to trip over his own feet as they hit the pavement. His eyes are wet, and he really hopes it’s just rainwater that’s trickled down his face. He really hopes he’s not crying. It muddles his vision. He scrubs at his eyes with his sleeve- still blurry. He blinks forcefully- still can’t get a grip on his surroundings.

The world shifts into a taunting haze of bleary streetlights and noisy, buzzing traffic. Adrenaline tears through his veins, fierce and dizzying and overwhelming, it tells him to run. When he slips and barely manages to regain his footing, he doesn’t stop moving. He can’t stop moving. He’s still too close to his house.

The argument is too fresh. Too crisp in his mind.

“I will not allow you to throw your life away like this,” his father had insisted, tone firm. “You’re an Aoyagi. You’re too talented for that.”

And Toya tried to say something quiet in his defence. He tried to keep calm and let the fight die on its own.

“And that boy I keep seeing with you. Stay away from him, he’s a bad influence. I don’t want you ending up like that.”

That’s when Toya snapped. Everything afterwards blurs together.

Now he’s here, doubled over and gasping for air, pulled back to reality by the cold sensation of rain hitting the back of his neck. It’s brisk and sharp and each little drop feels like a thin needle piercing his skin, over and over and over again. 

When he looks up, he finds himself stopped in front of a convenience store, drenched in bleaching, too-bright light. The little neon open sign flickers and hums invitingly. Toya feels like he’s being laughed at.

Around him, the street is dark and desolate; if the late hour hasn’t closed down any shops, then the storm has. Thunder echoes through the city, too close, too loud. He wonders if it’s trying to compete with the thudding pulse in his ears.

Toya manages to duck into the alleyway beside the seven-eleven just in time for another jarring crash to ring through the night. He lets himself slide to the ground, burying his face in his hands.

What is he doing?

It’s the middle of the night, he’s outside during one of the most intense storms to hit Tokyo so far this year, and he’s just had the worst argument with his father yet.

What is he going to do?

Go back home? He dismisses the idea immediately, it makes him feel sick. He can’t go back.

Then… the Tenmas?

Yeah, that’d probably work… they’re understanding, they know how Harumichi gets with his sons.

It’s late, and Toya would feel guilty for calling any of them right now. He’d feel even worse showing up to their doorstep, dishevelled and soaked. He knows he can trust them, though. They wouldn’t turn him away.

He loves Tsukasa and Saki, they love him back.

He could call right now, ask if he could stay over. It’d be just like another one of those rare sleepovers he’d have with them as a young child, where Tsukasa would pop open a picture book and begin reading to his dear siblings. Toya always thought it was funny, because Tsukasa hadn’t yet learned to read. The story he told was nothing like what the book narrated; a tale loosely based on the colourful illustrations.

The memory brings something reminiscent of a weak smile to Toya’s face.

He fishes out his phone and opens the messages app. The Tenmas would understand if he needed somewhere to stay.

The Tenmas love him, they’d welcome him with open arms…

(He opens Tsukasa’s contact.)

The Tenmas…

(Tuesday 1:54 PM

Toya!!! Myself, Saki and our parents are off to visit my grandma in okinawa! 

We’re leaving on friday

I promise i’ll bring back the biggest brightest BESTEST shell on the beach for you✨✨⭐️)

…are out of town this weekend.

His eyes sting. 

How did he forget…?

There’s a sinking feeling in his gut. The Tenmas were his only option, his last resort. If they’re gone, then… what…

His gaze flickers towards another contact. One he’d been hoping he didn’t have to open right now. The profile image displays a boy with bright orange hair, a relaxed smile playing on his lips as he poses for the photo, holding up a peace sign.

Shinonome Akito, the contact ID says.

Toya’s finger hovers over it.

He really, really shouldn’t.

It’s the middle of the night, I can’t text him.

But he’s so cold.

I haven’t even known him for very long.

A sudden gust of wind sends a wall of rain pelting at him, the cold sting knocks all of the air out of his lungs.

What if he doesn’t get it?

Something warm slips down his cheek.

He blinks, and next thing he knows, he’s typing frantically. His hands are shaking hard, he’s pretty sure that it’s from the cold. Water hits his phone screen, messing with the touch controls. Makes it hard to type. It takes too long to edit out the mistakes the rain made. Toya wants to cry.

“Sent” says the first text.

Today 12:23 AM 

Hello, Akito. I’m very sorry, I know it’s late, but is it alright if I go to your house?

He’s typing out another one. He’s not sure why. He’s not sure what else he’s supposed to say, but sending just one text feels needy so he has to follow up with another. He wills those shaky hands to steady, but the rain is messing it up again and he’s so, so, so tired.

Something choked forces its way out though his throat, drowned out by the rain. He’s glad- he doesn’t want to hear it.

Toya stares at the screen. He can’t make anything out, it’s too blurry. The words seem incomprehensible no matter how many times he reads them over. 

He presses send, his phone clatters to the ground, and his head hits his knees.

A sound wrenches itself from his chest, broken and ugly and he hates it so much. He hates this. He can’t do anything. He’s relying on other people to pick up the scraps of his own issues, and he hates it because nobody should have to do that for him.

He hates how much he craves one of Saki’s warm hugs, one of Tsukasa’s gentle smiles. He wants someone, anyone to tell him it’ll be alright. He needs to believe that he’ll be okay, he needs to believe that his life won’t be as bad as his father says.

“Shut up!” Toya had shouted, and immediately regretted it. He wanted to leave, he really wanted to leave. 

His heart had other plans.

“You have no idea what he’s like,” he hissed, “you don’t know a thing about Akito, you have no right to assume what sort of influence he is.” His voice cracked on his partner’s name and he wished he hadn’t said anything.

Then, his father had fixed him with one of those glares. One of those silent, deathly still glares that makes Toya’s blood run cold.

“I- uh-“ he’d managed past the painful lump in his throat, stumbling backwards. 

Then he turned, desperately fumbled with the doorknob, and didn’t look back.

Toya feels like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs.

There are tears running down his cheeks. He bites back a sob, but there’s no point- he’s crying. He can’t deny it anymore. Toya’s crying. He curls in on himself, trembling, and wishes for nothing more than to pass out right then and there. He wouldn’t have to deal with this tight feeling in his mind if he were unconscious.

Thunder sweeps through the alleyway, rattling him. He tucks himself into as small a ball he possibly can and tries to ignore how violently his shoulders are quivering. 

When he brings both hands close to his chest, he immediately realises how warm it feels. His own breath brushes over his fingers, quick and shallow, and he wants to chase after the feeling, he wants to hold onto that little semblance of warmth. He’s so cold and miserable and he just wants to feel real, he wants to feel there. It’s like he’s fallen into a bottomless pit, spinning and spinning, unable to get his bearings.

Somewhere, between painful memories and dark, stormy alleyways, Toya is trapped. He feels like a stray cat, lost, soaked to the bone, skittering from place to place in search of respite, no matter how brief. 

He grasps at his chest, trying to find that little flicker of warmth that he already misses so much, but he knows that it’s lost when the icy metal centrepiece of his necklace hits his skin and he clings onto it.

It’s so cold that it nearly hurts when squeezes it in his hand; the dulled edges of the pendant dig into his palm, and it’s distant but it’s there. He can feel it. It wakes him up a little, and he opens his eyes. (When had he closed them?) His lashes clump together uncomfortably, weighed down by hot, salty tears. Toya swallows thickly.

Ever so slowly, his mind starts to come back to him. The pace of his heart is still far too fast to be healthy, and his breaths still come in ragged, spontaneous bursts, but he’s able to think clearly and that’s a start. 

The pendant in his hand has warmed a little; it’s solid, grounding. He tugs it off over his head, grip tight and unwavering. It’s like a lifeline and he’s not ready to let go yet.

Beside him, his phone’s screen is dark. No text, no call. Nothing from Akito. Shame clouds his chest. That’s too much to expect, that’s way too much to expect. He’s known him for barely five months, of course it’s bizarre to think that it’d be acceptable to arrive at his house in the middle of the night. 

…but when he checks the message, there’s no read receipt. What if Akito slept through it? He might not be opposed to him staying over… and it’s not like Toya has the choice to go anywhere else, does he?

Even though he feels guilty and selfish for it, he pockets his phone and drags himself to his feet.

Akito is his last resort, he needs to give his house a shot, at the very least.

He slinks out of the alleyway and into the gleam of headlights from a passing car. The rain is relentless, pelting his already soaked hoodie and whipping around him violently. There’s nothing he can do but pull his soggy, drenched hood over his head and start the trek to his partner's house.

He feels like he’s not there for most of it. 

Vaguely, he feels his hands shaking. Feels the rain hitting his cheeks and dripping from his hair into his eyes. He feels the way his socks squelch in his shoes. He might cry again.

Time is measured through blinding streetlights and the inky darkness between them. He feels so exposed under their glare, like the storm is momentarily focused on him, pointing him out for the entire city to see. When he’s out of the light, he feels like something is behind him, creeping up on him, waiting for him to let his guard down and pounce on him while he’s vulnerable.

Soon, the sidewalk begins to grow a little less urban. He’s in Akito’s neighbourhood. He’s close.

When he gets to the end of the street, close enough to see Akito’s house, it’s totally dark. He mentioned something about the porch lights being broken the last time Toya slept over, didn’t he? 

He pulls out his phone. There’s still nothing. Nothing from Akito. Nothing. His eyes drift to read the last two texts over, but he clicks the screen off before his brain can register the words.

He can feel the guilt simmering in his gut again.

With a shaky, tentative breath, he types in his password. 

He manages to write a meager, “please” and hits send. He still feels horrible. He still hates everything about this. There's something so undeniably selfish about waking his partner up in the middle of the night and asking him to help him fix his own problems. He’s not ready for this, is he? He’s not ready for this kind of confrontation. He’s not ready for this kind of trust.

He needs it, though. He has nobody else to go to.

As he nears the front steps, he begs the universe to let Akito be understanding.  He can’t do this alone anymore.

He rings the doorbell, shaking harder than ever. It takes a good minute before someone cracks it open, and Toya’s gaze slowly drifts from the planks of the porch, to a set of pancake themed pyjamas, then a pair of wide, olive coloured eyes.

At that moment, Toya realises that everything will be alright.

Chapter Text

Bzzt!

Bzzt!

Akito rolls over in bed, nestling further into the pillows as he listens to the rain battering the window. He’s blissfully warm under the duvet, half asleep and endlessly content.

Bzzt!

Irritation creeps into his mind. He’d almost fallen back asleep. What gives? Who’s even texting this late at ni-

Ding!

For the love of- who’d be at the door this late at night?! And in this weather?

He could barely even hear the doorbell over the summer storm outside, and frankly, he wishes he hadn’t heard it at all.

Ena’s probably already awake, she should go answer it. She almost always has those noise canceling earbuds in, though. She’s probably relaxing in her room without a care in the world.

He sits up, groaning, and makes his way downstairs. It’s pouring out, and there’s nowhere he’d rather be than under the covers in his warm bed. It is what it is, though. He’ll get back to sleep as soon as he deals with whoever’s outside.

Sighing deeply, he lugs the door open, and standing before him is none other than the quiet, cool headed boy he’d teamed up with five months ago: Aoyagi Toya .

There his partner is, shivering, soaked to the bone, and with a dim, lightless expression on his face. He’s slow to meet Akito’s gaze, but when he does, there’s something desperate and pleading in his eyes. Akito has no idea what to do.

“Are you, uh…” he trails off, beckoning Toya inside and shutting the door behind him, the sounds of the storm fade, like he’s hit a mute button on the world outside.

What are you doing here? Are you okay?

It's a stupid question. Obviously he isn’t okay.

Akito mentally kicks himself and forgets the idea of speaking, but what else should he do? There are a hundred thousand thoughts firing through his brain, and they all tell him to help Toya.

He follows his gut instinct, silently opening his arms. That seems to be the right move, because Toya collapses into them, clinging to him with a force he didn’t even know his partner was capable of.

He buries his face into the crook of Akito’s neck, cold nose pressing against his skin, and Akito never wants to let him go.

Everything about Toya feels cold right now. His eyes, his body, his demeanour is desolate; even though Akito’s pyjamas are drenched after hugging the boy, he doesn’t dare to move from the embrace.

He’s never seen him like this. Breaths coming a little too fast, a little too shallow and frantic. Trembling, melting against Akito with his heart going a million a minute.

He isn’t quite sure what could’ve happened to get Toya like this, but he'll be damned before he stops trying to help him through it.

After a few long moments, Akito feels him shift, grip loosening. Toya’s wet hair brushes against his jaw as he pulls away, and the weary look in his eyes seems to have softened just a little.

“Do you uh… wanna talk about it…?” Akito offers, and immediately backtracks in his mind because that sounds stupid. Toya simply shakes his head, slipping off his sopping runners and neatly placing them on the shoe mat.

“May I stay here tonight?” He asks, the question seems to hang in the air for a moment, quiet and fragile.

“Uh… yeah- yeah, sure, of course,” Akito nods, wracking his brain for answers as to why on earth his singing partner was out in the rain at one in the morning. 

How’d he get out there? Did something happen?

“Here,” Akito offers, snatching a fresh towel from the laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs, “you should take a shower- you’re freezing. I can get you some dry clothes.”

Toya doesn’t say much, he just nods slowly, mutters a vacant, “thank you,” and makes his way up to the bathroom.

Once Akito hears the water start, he heads to his room and picks out something for Toya to sleep in (as well as a set of dry clothes for himself. His own nightwear is dripping with rainwater after hugging the poor guy).

Soon after changing and laying a set of pyjamas outside of the washroom door, he collapses on his bed, reaching for his phone.

Hadn’t someone texted him earlier…? 

The screen flickers to life when he lifts it to his face, and there, neatly lined up over top of his wallpaper, are three messages from Toya.

Today 12:23 AM 

Hello, Akito. I’m very sorry, I know it’s late, but is it alright if I go to your house?

12:28 AM 

Can I pleasr come pver? I justneed somewhere to stay tonight. Sorry

1:08AM

Please 

Something unpleasant curls in his gut. Guilt, realization, whatever. How long had Toya been standing out there in the rain, waiting for him? How long had he been in the streets, alone and cold, while Akito was curled up, sleeping soundly in bed?

His heart sinks.

Should he ask about what happened? He’d rather stay in the dark than make his partner uncomfortable, but curiosity and guilt are gnawing away at him. He wishes he could have helped Toya sooner.

Before long, his spiraling is interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a creak as Toya pushes it open and steps in. His face is a little flushed from the hot shower and he’s holding a bundle of wet clothes that drip water on the floor, despite how they’re wrapped in a towel. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he shifts the haphazardly folded lump of fabric in an attempt to get the water to quit soaking through.

“It’s fine,” Akito reassures, getting to his feet and taking the heap of wet clothes from his partner.

“I kinda needed a reason to quit procrastinating laundry, anyway,” he jokes, but Toya doesn’t give him much of a response. 

He must be feeling really out of it then, huh? Akito can’t blame him. Honestly, after a night like this, who wouldn’t? 

A heavy, sour pit lodges itself in his chest. It’s not fair that Toya’s had to experience… whatever this is. He’s been nothing but kind as far as Akito’s known him, so what could have happened for him to suddenly arrive at his doorstep in the middle of the night?

It makes him upset to think that his partner’s suffering through something like that.

“Hey, by the way…” he begins gently, “…if you want, you can sleep in my bed tonight.” 

That gets a bit of a reaction out of Toya. He tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and asks, “are you sure?”

“Yeah, well- I mean- if you want to. Obviously it’s up to you.”

After all he’s been through, Toya doesn’t deserve to sleep on the ground. Offering his bed is the least Akito can do for him.

A quiet, “…thanks,” is all he mutters in response, voice laden with exhaustion and something else that Akito can’t quite place. He flashes a smile at Toya before stepping out, and he hopes it’s at least a little comforting.

So there he is, lugging a load of damp laundry from the washer to the dryer and dropping it in with a heavy clunk. Just as he’s about to toss Toya’s clothes in, he pauses to empty the pockets, and good thing he did.

He’d managed to rescue a pair of wireless earbuds from their impending doom in the dryer, as well as Toya’s metallic triangle necklace, relatively dry in comparison to everything else.

That’s strange,  Akito hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t wearing it. Why’d he take it off, anyway? Was he worried it’d rust in the rain?

The question is merely a fleeting thought, slipping his mind as soon as he slams the dryer shut and begins his search for a sleeping bag. If Toya is taking his bed, then Akito might as well try to make his own night as comfortable as possible.

The ones he and Ena had used to go camping a few years ago are definitely more than a little bit small now, so those are out of the question. (That, and the fact that there is no way in hell he’s letting Toya see him in a sleeping bag with the words “soccer champ” printed in big bold letters.)

His dad’s heavy green camping bag is his only option. 

He hauls it upstairs, and when he pushes the door open he finds that the lamp beside his bed is already off. The room is dimly illuminated by a sole street light flickering in the rain.

Then he sees Toya, nestled peacefully under the duvet, eyelids shut with one of his hands curled in a limp fist close to his face. Akito’s chest does this weird jumpy sort of thing, and he’s not quite sure why.

It’s strange seeing Toya like this, he always seems so professional. Not quite uptight, but never really relaxed.

But now, he looks so serene. Huddled in bed with his cheek pressed against one of the pillows, two-toned hair, usually so organized and neat, strewn carelessly about his head. 

Akito feels… warm. 

Maybe he’s getting sick.

Toya’s eyes flit open just slightly as he enters, and he blinks once or twice before they try to fall shut again. 

“Hey, partner,” Akito greets quietly, carefully pulling the contents of what used to be in Toya’s pockets out of his own.

The necklace clinks softly against the earbud case as he places it on the desk, and Toya glances towards them with some sort of unreadable expression on his face.

The look changes when Akito begins digging the sleeping bag out of the case, something a little confused, close to what Akito might call disappointment if he didn’t know better. 

“I brought this up from the laundry room,” he explains. 

At his partner’s notable lack of response, he lightheartedly adds, “didja think I’d be sleeping on the floor?”

Toya’s answer comes as a quiet, “no…” but Akito can tell that there’s something else he’s not saying.

For a moment, the sounds of the storm blend with the rustling of the bag as Akito attempts to wrestle it out of the case. Try as he might, the knot tying the waterproof fabric shut is not coming undone. Holy Christ. His dad must’ve been saving this for the zombie apocalypse.

He pauses from the struggle to catch his breath for a moment, and Toya speaks up.

“You can sleep up here,” he whispers, barely audible over the rain, and for a minute, Akito thinks he must've misheard.

It’s nice of Toya to offer for Akito to sleep on the bed, but from what he’s seen so far, Toya’s not… the fondest of physical closeness.

Akito would hate to make his partner uncomfortable.

He’s about to brush it off as another nice gesture, shake his head and say something along the lines of, “nah, it’s fine,” like he always does when Toya offers to drop an extra thousand yen on street food for him.

When he looks up, though, his partner is propped up on his elbow, staring right into his soul. 

That flickering, dim street light reflects in his eyes, dull orange and hazy. Whatever emotion is held within them seems to be something far too delicate for Akito to handle.

Then, it clicks.

What if… what if Toya isn’t offering for Akito to sleep next to him, he’s asking.

Realization dawns on him. It… makes sense. From what Akito’s gathered, Toya’s been through hell tonight, so why should it be surprising he just wants… comfort? 

And why is he so shocked to find that Toya is seeking that comfort from Akito?

Toya’s his partner, right? His best friend. They haven’t known each other for that long, but they spend most of their time together. And yet, the idea of being that close to anyone is… scary. He’s never been very good at consoling people.

But it’s Toya. And Toya, quiet and confusing as he is, never seems to ask Akito for anything. He never suggests that they cut practice short, never goes home before Akito does.

His partner always seems so dedicated, so eager to sing, even if it’s the most mundane vocal training. 

To Akito, it feels like Toya’s experiencing the world like he’s never gotten the opportunity to do so before. 

It’s like he’s experiencing life.  

So if Toya chose to come to Akito’s house, all exhausted and trembling and soaking wet, if Toya’s already giving him so much of this brittle, wide eyed trust… 

I’ll offer all I can to help it grow.

“Thanks,” Akito murmurs, tossing the sleeping bag aside and praying his uneasy nerves go with it.

Toya shuffles over to make room, and Akito settles next to him under the covers.

The night is dim; the bed is warm. 

Occasionally, a sudden gust of wind picks up, swaying the trees and carrying the distant rumble of thunder with it. The rain never relents either, slamming against the window in a way that most definitely would’ve sent a sniffling, sobbing, six year old Akito running to Ena and asking if he could sleep in her room.

Above it all, though, he can hear Toya.

He’s breathing. It’s quiet and a little shaky sounding, but it’s there. Akito turns his head to look at him and finds that the expression he’s wearing is oddly… familiar.

Small, lightless, empty. It seems that there used to be fire shining in his eyes, bright and fierce, but it’s gone now. Burnt out. Charred. 

It reminds him of Ena, a little.

There’d been arguments that’d left her with too much fight, she’d scream and scratch and throw things at whoever dared to come too close, which only ever seemed to be Akito.

Then, there’d been fights that left her like this. Worn out and exhausted to the point that the worst she could do was shoot a weak glare at Akito when he’d opened his door to check on her- a glare that said, ‘don’t come near me’. He soon came to realize that, for some reason, the first, more hostile Ena scared him less.

It made him feel anxious. Helpless. It’s the same thing now, but with his best friend rather than his sister.

“Toya,” he finds himself whispering, and his heart jumps when those hollow gray eyes turn to meet his own. 

He continues, mouth moving a little too quickly for his mind, “d’you want a hug?”

That mind of his doesn’t catch up until Toya fixes him with a blunt, unreadable stare, which Akito so desperately wishes he could figure out already. Maybe he did make him uncomfortable.

Nice going, dumbass.

“Uh, sorry, I mean like, if you don’t wa-“

Then, Toya shifts, reaching to wrap his arms around Akito’s shoulders and nestling close.

To say that Akito’s brain shuts off would be an understatement- it undergoes a full factory reboot.

Stupidly, he sits there, eyes wide, breath hitched.

He only manages to get a hold of himself when Toya adjusts, and he feels damp hair pressing against his collar bone.

Immediately, he rushes to reciprocate, bringing his arms up and enveloping Toya in a firm hug. At that, his partner seems to relax, almost melting into him. His grip loosens around Akito’s shoulders and he burrows his face into the crook of his neck, eyelashes lightly grazing his skin as he does so.

It’s gentle.

It’s soft.

It’s… terrifying.

This sort of closeness is new. Or, at least, not something Akito’s experienced in a very long time. Shinonomes don’t really do that sort of… affection stuff. He’s not used to this. 

It scares him.

But… there’s something so impossibly warm about the steady pressure resting against his torso. 

It's the way that Toya’s soft breaths brush over his skin, how it makes him want to pull his partner impossibly close and whisper gentle comforts to him until neither of them can stay awake. Akito wants nothing more than to cradle Toya in his arms and chase away everything in the world that could ever upset him like this again.

He doesn’t want to see him like this anymore- gaze vacant and glassy, unable to bring himself to speak.

He doesn’t want to see Toya in pain like that.

The harsh slam of thunder and the way his partner flinches in his arms pulls him back from his thoughts.

It breaks his heart all over again. He hates that he has no idea how to comfort him.

But at least Toya’s here. He’s safe, and right now it’s Akito’s job to keep him like that. Make sure he’s far away from whatever hurt him.

What even happened to get him like that? Did Akito ever find out?

Would it be okay to…?

“Hey, Toya?” he murmurs into the darkness. “What were you doing out there, anyway?”

The wind howls outside. Distantly, somewhere in the city, he can hear a police siren wailing through the storm.

Toya doesn’t respond.

He must’ve fallen asleep already; Akito really wants to facepalm for not asking sooner, but whatever. Maybe it’s for the better, he needs the res-

“I got into an argument,” Toya breathes. It’s one of the first full sentences Akito’s heard out of him all night.

“I came home late and my father got upset at me,” he mumbles, and his voice is so delicate. Akito can hear how it trembles dangerously, teetering on the thin, wobbling line that defines a whisper from a whimper.

He glances down, but his view of Toya’s face is obstructed by a head of two-toned hair. He’s sure that if it weren’t, he’d find the very same small, glassy-eyed expression that he’s come to dread seeing. The one that breaks his heart every time he looks at it. 

His partner sounds like he wants to say more, but nothing else comes out. He just takes a quivery breath and turns his head so that his cheek is pressed against Akito’s shoulder, facing away from him.

Akito holds him a little closer, adjusting his grip so his arm wraps over Toya’s waist.

He’s curious, definitely, but he won’t push. If that’s all Toya’s willing to tell him, then that’s really all Akito needs to know. He trusts that Toya knows his own boundaries.

Soon, sleep begins to tug at the corners of Akito’s mind, and he has to blink to keep the droop out of his eyelids. It’s tempting to pass out right there, with the comforting weight of his partner pressing on top of him, but he can’t yet- there’s still one last thing he needs Toya to understand.

“Y’know, you can ask me for help whenever,” he whispers, mind tracing back to the text messages he’d read earlier. He can't help but visualize what Toya must’ve been like when he sent those- somewhere out in the city, suffering through the tempest. He doesn’t like the thought.

“We’re p’rtners,” he yawns, “we can trust each other… ‘kay?” It comes out sounding less like a sincere promise and more like a sleep hazed mumble than he’d intended, but he’s sure Toya can get the message.

The words hover in the air for a moment, overtaken by the steady pitter-patter of the rain hitting the rooftop. 

No response.

He really must’ve fallen asleep this time, Akito thinks, smiling fondly to himself. He can feel the gentle rise and fall of Toya’s chest, the steady, tmp-tmp, tmp-tmp, tmp-tmp, of his heartbeat overtop of Akito’s own.

Maybe he’s imagining it, but he thinks he can feel Toya’s fingers curl to grip the fabric of his nightshirt, too. He might not be as asleep as he thought he was.

He tightens the hug, lets his cheek rest against Toya’s cool, damp hair, and closes his eyes.

The summer storm continues to swirl outside, dark and foreboding and frightening as ever, but Akito knows he doesn’t have to worry about it. It can’t hurt either of them.

Not right now, at least. 

Right now, Toya is here, safe, with his head resting against Akito’s chest and his arms loosely looped around his neck. 

Right now, they’re far, far away from the storm.

If Akito’s being honest, it’s a little scary. Allowing himself to be vulnerable like this is difficult, but Toya needed him. He still does .

That thought alone had been enough to convince Akito to push his fears aside. For the first time since he was a young child, he’d let his walls down.

And, frankly, he’d be lying if he said he hated… all of this. The warmth, the vulnerability, the fact that he has a partner to brave the world with. He’s never had this sort of connection with anyone before, but it’s… nice. 

He knows that they’re both a little hesitant to open up, but he also knows that they’re both more than content to lay together like this, trusting and safe, slipping into a peaceful, unbothered sleep.

Sometimes, after a good show, he gets this soft, fuzzy feeling that makes him think that he’ll be okay, just as long as he has Toya by his side; at this point, with his partner settled comfortably in his arms as he dozes off, he’s ready to believe it.

Sometimes, it feels like the world itself is against Akito, like it hates him and challenges itself to find new ways to make his life worse every single day.

It seems that, sometimes, Toya feels that way too.

Considering all that’s happened, though, and all that Akito’s learned, he’s pretty sure they’ll be alright. 

…yeah.

As long as they have each other, they’ll be just fine.