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It's just a dream.
Nothing but a stupid dream… At least, that's what Ugetsu tells himself. Yet this so-called ‘stupid dream’ has him shooting upright when he finally wakes, his breathing erratic seemingly unable to calm down.
The images are incomprehensible in his waking mind, too hazy to establish any detail as all turbulent dreams seem to do. But Ugetsu feels as if every touch is seared into his skin, every sound harshly implanted in his mind. It's a cascade of contradictions, switching without a moment’s notice - Distant, yet intimate. Gentle, but painful. Hot, cold, sharp and sweet.
It's a mess and Ugetsu can't stand it.
Now he’s left lying awake in the early hours of the morning, struggling to make sense of it all. What feels like hours is mere minutes and Ugetsu is far too awake to fall back asleep right now, and considering how he ended up in this state…he'd rather do anything else but close his eyes. Ugetsu looks around the room, wanting to find some kind of respite. His eyes instinctively rest upon his violin residing peacefully on the coffee table, Ugetsu's fingers twitch as the urge to just get up and play becomes more and more appealing.
One of the only positives of living in a soundproof basement was that no one would be able to complain about the noise, leaving Ugetsu able to play whenever he felt like it. Even if that may be in the dead of night. He could just play for hours and hours to simply drown out any surrounding noise around him and whatever echoed in his mind. If only he could. Alas, he isn't alone. His gaze shifts where a body ignorantly sleeps. He’d forgotten about Haruki's presence happily tucked up beside him, being far too occupied with the desperate need for distractions.
Late night practice was off the table, leaving Ugetsu with no options. Unable to fulfil the itch, Ugetsu’s fingers tightly grip the duvet in frustration, now forced to sit in a crowded bed with lingering thoughts he had no ability to shake off. His sights remain fixed on Haruki’s warm body next him, laying on the opposite side, his sleeping face obscured though Ugetsu can still visualize the small open shape of his lips from his position. Instead, all he can see are the loose golden strands that are molded perfectly to the curves of Haruki's neck with the rest that fall down the width of his shoulders. His breathing is calm with the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Ugetsu’s eyes move lower to the delicate, defined shape of his spine that leads beneath the covers where the rest of his body remains hidden.
After a period of intense staring, Ugetsu realizes that his breathing and heart rate have returned to normal. His sudden transfixion on Haruki’s peaceful state being the distraction he needed.
When Haruki visits, everything becomes so much…warmer. Ugetsu’s bed, which had always been cold, felt warm whenever he decided to stay. He really is a truly fascinating person. The concept is strange and foreign yet comfortable. Haruki is unlike most people Ugetsu has really known, able to draw out parts of himself that Ugetsu once thought of as a hindrance. Despite everything, his attitude, the constant avoidance - And the rest of the nonsense Ugetsu puts him through, Haruki continues to look at him with a smile and continues to show him kindness Ugetsu doesn't deserve. He shouldn't be allowed to have such warmth.
Ugetsu isn't sure how long he'd been staring at that point, but it seems to be long enough that Haruki wakes up and starts to shuffle around, tired half-lidded eyes looking back.
“Can't sleep?" Haruki's voice is sweet yet sharp with sleep; he sits up to match with Ugetsu's eye line, who very quickly spins his head the other way after getting caught. And Haruki immediately recognizes the signal. "Is there…something on your mind?"
"It's far too early for this..." Ugetsu says with a scoff, twisting away. Haruki quietly laughs.
"Alright, I won't ask." Even in the early hours of the morning, Haruki is still so considerate, and yet somehow that's a problem. It’s stupidly petty and Ugetsu knows this. It seems to be all he can do at this point.
Haruki seriously deserves better. Someone who doesn't treat the simplest forms of affection as some kind of insult. Who doesn't treat the slightest moment of defenselessness as a threat to himself. Someone who isn’t Ugetsu. In moments like this, there’s this feeling. Less of a feeling but an understanding that he’s kept Haruki away from what he truly needs…or what he wants. Ugetsu’s thoughts begin to spiral again, drowning in self-loathing for far too long that he doesn't realize there's a hand intertwined in his own. "Look here."
And Ugetsu reluctantly does so, pulling his gaze away from the comfort of his covers, to face Haruki directly. Haruki lowers his voice, leaning into Ugetsu’s space as if this was only meant for him, his words made to be imprinted into his head.
“Whatever it is…It’s okay.”
Everything just freezes. Ugetsu can’t do anything but gawk in disbelief, his face starting to suddenly burn with fluster and Haruki simply looks at him with the sappiest smile Ugetsu has seen from him. Ugetsu stares at him and his face very quickly shifts to an embarrassed scowl though the still prominent flush removes any threat in his expression. Ugetsu’s hand subconsciously tightens its grip around Haruki’s own who appears completely unaware of the effect of what he just said, only really noticing when his hand is threatened to lose all circulation. “You’re...um. Crushing my hand a little.” Ugetsu finally lets go yet proceeds to bash his head against Haruki’s arm.
“You. Are. Absolutely. Ridiculous. Haruki.”
“But I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?”
Ugetsu pauses with consideration in his next words. “You’re not. I…appreciate it. Genuinely. But you really can be oblivious, Haru.” A smile presses against Haruki’s skin as Ugetsu begins to laugh at the entire situation, too tired from a lack of sleep to regulate himself properly. He sighs before falling back down onto his pillow, still looking at Haruki now hovering over him. Ugetsu reaches for Haruki’s face, pulling him closer and into a kiss.
Things become more blurred and messy as sleep begins to take over, Haruki’s gentle expression still vividly remaining in his memory. And when Ugetsu opens his eyes again, the small sliver of pale daylight seeps through.
But the bed is cold again.