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It was 4:15 in the morning when Jason woke up. Tossing on his sides constantly as he slept next to Sabo in their shared bed. Jason finally opened his eyes, looking around the dark room, then looking to his side. He spotted Sabo next to him, sleeping soundly without any care in the world.
Sabo didn’t move much, he only kept himself in one spot. On occasion, he would hold Jason in his sleep and burry his nose in Jason’s neck, inhaling his scent. This night however was more of a separate night both men, as they kept their distance.
Jason’s eyes sleepily trails Sabo’s relaxed expression, inhaling a sigh, he moved closer and laid his head on Sabo’s shoulder lightly.
He held his breath for a minute,his heart racing, bitting his lip in anticipation and and a glint of fear crossing his eyes. Hoping Sabo wouldn’t flinch or move away from Jason’s touch.
Sabo’s figure didn’t move.
Jason couldn’t be more glad.
The heat from Sabo’s body and devil fruit kept himself and the bed warm in cold nights like these. It kept Jason’s attention away from his past, especially when he was buried in his grave. Cold, quiet and decay is what he felt for years before he met Sabo. Now, in his adult life all he felt in this moment was the warmth, (peaceful) quiet and lastly alive.
Again, Jason scooted much closer to Sabo; gently laying his head in Sabo’s chest. When his ear came to contact with the warmth of Sabo’s chest, he feels the gentle rhythm of his heart. It made a gentle tune, making Jason close his weary eyes and exhale a breath he didn’t know he had before. By now it would have been 4:20 ten minutes before Sabo had to get up and head to work to the revolutionary army.