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Nagato held his breath on the way to Anzai’s house, as if Anzai would tell him to leave at any second. Anzai had always been an unbelievably good person, he had no reason to be afraid. Still, he hovered, like Anzai would snap.
Anzi didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't say anything. He just lead Nagato to his house and up the stairs to his room. Nagato spent the next hour or so in silence, letting Anzai talk to himself as they went through the motions of showering and getting ready for bed.
Now, laying in bed next to Anzai he felt a bit like a little kid, too scared to go to sleep, too scared to move. He could have pulled out his phone, but Anzai was next to him and the soreness of getting beat up all day was setting in- it hurt to move. “Anzai?”
“Yes?”
Nagato didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t even sure why he had called out to Anzai in the first place. His mouth had moved before his mind had thought, an unconscious need to see if Anzai was still there.
After a few moments of no response, Anzai turned on his side, facing Nagato, but he didn’t move.
“We’re okay,” was the statement that finally got Nagato to look at him, after another few moments of silence. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
Nagato felt the familiar sting of tears at his eyes, Anzai was always too kind to him.
Anzai reached forward, and wrapped his arms arms around Nagato, hugging him. Nagato didn’t want to move, even if the way Anzai was holding him made every wound he had received in the past few weeks ache.
Nagato knows things are different for him than Anzai, he knows there’s a part of him that Anzai can never know about. It’s been there since a few weeks after they first meet.
Anzai and Tsuchiya had invited him to play at a river, when he got there, they were already ankle deep in the water. Tsuchiya was lower, splashing water on Anzai, and they were both laughing. Anzai was happy, laughing, and it changed Nagato as a person. He’s not sure if Anzai can ever know, but in moments like these, it’s not entirely impossible.
There’s been a fantasy thats lived in the back of Nagato’s mind since the 8th grade: One where Anzai is the one to confess, where Anzai tells him he loves him, and Anzai holds him the way he’s doing now.
Anzai’s body is warm, and he smells like soap, fresh laundry and Nagato tries to remember it.
After a few minutes, Anzai starts to squirm, and Nagato briefly briefly mourned the coming loss of his warmth. Yet, after another moment , he realized that Anzai didn't leave, rather just shifted onto his back, arms still around Nagato.
The air of the hug shifted from comforting to oddly romantic, but maybe that was Nagato’s feelings clouding his judgment. “Hey, Nagato?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we stay like this?” Nagato felt his face flush. Anzai was on his back, with one arm wrapped around Nagato, a casual show of affection, but totally out of their norm. “Yeah.”
Nagato shifted to get comfortable, resting his head on Anzai’s chest. The steady beat from his heart sturred something in him, he felt safe.