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Hiyori slumps against the wall, staring intently down at his keys and trying to pick out the one that opens his door.
He has to be quiet, because it’s late and he doesn’t want to bother Jun or anyone in the adjoining dorms. He has to be careful, because he doesn’t want to give anything away or make Jun worry about him. So when he finally identifies the correct key, Hiyori crosses the narrow hallway and braces himself against the doorframe, praying he’ll get the key into the lock without any difficulty.
Of course, it isn’t that simple. First he misjudges how far away it is from his hand, then he aims too high up, then he overcompensates by scraping the key against the bottom of the handle.
He curses under his breath. He’s drawing way too much attention to himself right now, and if Jun’s still awake, he’s definitely noticed Hiyori trying and failing to open the door.
This isn’t how he wanted the night to go. He hadn’t really meant to drink anything in the first place, but there had been alcohol everywhere at the gala and with a drink in his hand it was easier to not be upset by all the snide comments Eichi had thrown his way over the course of the evening. Just one drink had turned into Hiyori losing count, and while he was able to hold himself together flawlessly during the event, he’s now undeniably drunk, and the only person who’s going to have to deal with it is the only person that he never wants to have to see him like this.
The key finally slots into the lock, and Hiyori turns it and pushes the door open cautiously. A single lamp is on, and Jun is standing in the middle of the room, very clearly having paused on his way over to the door.
“Jun-kun!” Hiyori says cheerfully, trying desperately to stop himself from swaying or stumbling. “I’m home!”
Maybe, if he’s careful, he can play this off and get in bed without Jun suspecting anything.
“Ohiisan,” Jun says, his brow furrowing. “Are you okay?”
Hiyori resists the urge to groan. Of course Jun has to notice something.
“Fine!” he says, nodding for emphasis. “I’m sure you missed me sooooo much, didn’t you!”
Jun closes the distance between them and stares intently at Hiyori. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “Something’s up. What’s wrong?”
Hiyori tries to pout, to act like Jun is being ridiculous, but he can feel the warmth of Jun’s body right in front of his, and he’s suddenly unable to focus on anything other than the way Jun’s chest rises and falls as he breathes. He’s realizing, much too late, that Jun disliking alcohol isn’t nearly the only problem with his current predicament. He glances at Jun’s lips, pressed into a tight frown, and he knows that he’s in for a very painful night of pretending.
“It’s nothing, Jun-kun,” he tries to insist. But he hears the way his own voice falters, and he knows Jun isn’t even close to being convinced.
Jun takes hold of Hiyori’s chin and tilts his head upwards, and Hiyori doesn’t dare breathe. Jun doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. Hiyori shuts his eyes for a moment, knowing he has to tell the truth so Jun will stop worrying like this.
At least, most of the truth.
“You have to promise not to be mad,” Hiyori says. He holds his hand out, pinky raised, and waits for Jun to link it with his.
“Depends on what it is,” Jun says suspiciously.
Hiyori shakes his head. “You have to promise,” he repeats, shaking his outstretched pinky.
Jun sighs, then links his pinky with Hiyori’s and nods. “Fine,” he says. “I promise.”
Hiyori smiles, hoping a light tone will soften the blow. “Okay! Well, when I was at the gala, I may or may not have had a little bit to drink!”
Jun raises his eyebrows. “You’re drunk?”
Hiyori giggles. “Maybe.”
Jun sighs again, all long and drawn-out, and he looks up at the ceiling. “Ohiisan.”
“You promised you wouldn’t be mad,” Hiyori says, frowning. He reaches out to grab Jun’s face, meaning to pull him back into eye contact, but he fully overshoots, sort of whiffing right past Jun’s ear and losing his balance in the process. He falls forward right into Jun, landing solidly against his chest with a little oof.
Jun’s arms wrap around Hiyori as if on instinct, holding him steady. Hiyori expects Jun to let go immediately, or to push him back upright, but Jun keeps holding him. Hiyori’s eyes widen a little bit. Maybe he can use this to his advantage.
“Careful,” Jun says. “C’mon, you need to sit down.”
So Jun leads Hiyori over to the sofa, steadying him when he trips over his own feet and nearly falls again. Jun sits him down and then follows suit, and Hiyori hesitates for a moment. He can pull this off, right? Make it seem like nothing more than the alcohol causing him to behave so boldly?
Hiyori turns, facing towards Jun, and pulls his legs up onto the couch, depositing them in Jun’s lap. Then he leans in, resting his upper half against Jun’s chest.
“Do you need to be sitting like this?” Jun asks.
“Absolutely!” Hiyori says with an emphatic nod. “If I’m sitting normally I might, um, fall!”
Jun raises one eyebrow. “You’ll…fall,” he repeats.
“Yes, yes,” Hiyori says, nodding again for good measure. “I might fall right over! Wouldn’t that just be awful? So that means Jun-kun needs to support me!”
Jun tilts his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay,” he says. “You can sit however you want, Ohiisan. Just take your shoes off before you get dirt all over the couch.”
Hiyori looks down at his feet in surprise. He hadn’t realized he was still wearing his shoes, but sure enough, the shiny black leather is staring right back at him. He heaves a big sigh and works them off of his feet, kicking them haphazardly to land somewhere on the floor where they officially stop being his problem and start being Jun’s. With his shoes handled, Hiyori settles back into the couch, curling up further against Jun, and lets his eyes fall shut for a moment.
This single moment in time is perfect, it must be. Hiyori is still pleasantly drunk, and he feels all light and giggly and warm, and he’s basically cuddling with Jun. This is pretty much a dream come true.
And then Jun opens his mouth, and the illusion fades.
“So,” Jun starts. “I didn’t really peg you as an underage drinker.”
Hiyori groans. “Is this gonna be a lecture?”
“It is illegal.”
“I know that,” Hiyori mutters.
“And don’t you have a reputation to uphold?” Jun continues.
Hiyori frowns. “No one even noticed,” he protests, fighting back a whine.
“I find that hard to believe,” Jun says. “I noticed it immediately, Ohiisan.”
The whine finally slips through. “No one did,” he insists. “It’s not my fault you know me better than everyone who was there does.”
“Okay, fine,” Jun concedes. “I know you’re good at pretending, or whatever. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a stupid idea in the first place.”
Hiyori sighs. “I know,” he mumbles, feeling shame stabbing into his stomach. He grabs a fistful of Jun’s shirt and curls up even smaller. “You don’t need to remind me.”
“Why’d you even drink in the first place?” Jun asks.
He still sounds disappointed in Hiyori, but as he asks the question, he does something weird.
Jun moves the arm closest to Hiyori, wrapping it around his waist and pulling him closer.
Hiyori swears his heart might stop. Jun did that, not him. And he didn’t tell Jun to do that. Jun decided to hold him, even if Jun’s mad at him for being drunk.
“Ohiisan?”
Jun’s voice cuts through Hiyori’s racing thoughts, and Hiyori jumps a little.
“I heard you,” he says, trying to steady his words despite the way his body has focused entirely on Jun’s hand burning against his waist.
“Okay, so answer the question,” Jun says.
The question. Right.
The question was…what, again?
“Um,” Hiyori starts, hoping to stall until he remembers.
Jun sighs. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“…Maybe.”
“I asked why you got drunk, Ohiisan,” Jun reminds him.
Hiyori straightens up. “Oh! That’s an easy one. Eichi-kun was pissing me off.”
“Again?”
“Mhm,” Hiyori affirms. “He’s really quite good at it, you know.”
“I know,” Jun agrees. “What was it this time?”
Hiyori frowns as he remembers Eichi’s cloying words, his knowing smile, as he thinks about the fact that even after all these years he’s not immune to any of it.
“He was talking about us,” Hiyori says slowly.
Jun’s hold on Hiyori tightens almost imperceptibly. If Hiyori wasn’t so focused on the feeling of Jun’s hand on his waist, he probably would’ve missed it.
“What about us?” Jun asks.
“I guess it was more about SS,” Hiyori corrects. “But, you know, that means it was about us after all.”
“fine isn’t even competing in SS finals, though, right?” Jun asks. “It’s those Trickstar guys that we already performed with.”
Hiyori wraps his arms around Jun’s neck and leans in. He hates admitting it out loud, because even thinking about it makes him feel crazy, makes him feel paranoid, but his filter is admittedly paper-thin right now and maybe saying it out loud will help.
“I know, but…you don’t know what Eichi-kun is like,” he mumbles into Jun’s shoulder. “He’s so…calculating. Even if he’s not competing against us, I can’t help but think this is how he wanted this all to pan out.”
“You’re worrying over nothing,” Jun says softly. “We already beat Trickstar, didn’t we? And Nagi-senpai and Ibara are going to beat them at the Autumn Live, and then we’re going to beat them again in December at finals.”
“I know,” Hiyori says. He sighs. “I just—he kept dropping these little hints all evening about how they’re going to win, or how we shouldn’t get too cocky. And I know he was doing it on purpose to rile me up. So I guess I just…I don’t know. I wanted to stop being so bothered by it, and drinking made that easier.”
Jun doesn’t say anything for a while. Hiyori clings to him, and in this silence, it’s easy again to pretend that he’s cuddling with his boyfriend, not just indulging in a fantasy that will probably never come true.
And really, Hiyori’s okay with it never coming true. They’ve known each other for all of six months, and besides, Jun’s far too practical to ever fall for someone like him. Just because Hiyori is the type of idiot to fall in love at first sight doesn’t mean Jun has any reason to feel the same. It’s okay. He gets to be close enough to Jun because of the nature of their songs and choreography, and then there are the—admittedly few—moments like these where he can be organically close to Jun, and he can pretend Jun wants this closeness just as badly as he does.
“You’re an idiot, I think,” Jun says finally.
Hiyori pouts. “That’s not nice, Jun-kun.”
“You’re eighteen years old and you decided to get drunk at a big fancy party hosted by your own parents because someone you’ve known for your entire life was trying to get a rise out of you,” Jun points out. “That’s pretty stupid.”
“You’re supposed to be nice to me,” Hiyori complains. “It’s past midnight! I don’t need a lecture right now!”
“You’re the one who decided to sit in my lap,” Jun mutters. “I think I’ve earned the right to criticize you.”
Hiyori whines and tightens his arms around Jun’s neck, fully burying his face in Jun’s shirt. “You’re a lot more fun to be around when you’re not talking.”
Jun laughs at that, short and genuine. “I could say the same thing about you, y’know,” he says, nudging Hiyori’s shoulder with his free hand.
Hiyori fights back a yawn. He’s honestly pretty tired from the evening and the alcohol, but the sooner Jun realizes, the sooner he’ll make Hiyori go to bed alone and end this little charade. Hiyori likes where he’s at currently, is quite enjoying his time wrapped around Jun, so he resolves to stay awake for as long as he’s able to.
“You like it when I talk,” Hiyori mumbles, willing his eyes to stay open.
“I do,” Jun agrees softly.
Hiyori hums. “Of course you do. I’m very charismatic, you know!”
Jun chuckles again. “I know,” he says. “You’re very charismatic, Ohiisan.”
Silence falls again, which makes it much harder for Hiyori to stick to his goal of staying awake. His eyelids are starting to get so heavy that he can barely keep them open, and his hold on Jun’s shoulders is loosening ever so slightly. But he presses on, determined to stay awake for at least a bit longer.
“I like you when you’re quiet, too,” Jun says, hardly above a whisper.
Hiyori barely hears his words, and all of his remaining focus stays on the feeling of Jun’s hand on his waist as he slumps forward and his eyes finally fall shut.
“Unbelievable.”
The single word breaks through Hiyori’s unconsciousness, and his eyes snap back open.
“What’s unbelievable?" he mumbles.
“You are,” Jun tells him. “You’re falling asleep on me.”
“Am not,” Hiyori protests.
“You most certainly are,” Jun says, gently stroking a hand through Hiyori’s hair.
Hiyori doesn’t even have the brainpower to wonder when exactly Jun’s hand moved from his waist to his hair, because the slow slide of Jun’s fingers against his head is enough to make him shiver, and he has to bite back a noise that’s probably closer to a moan than he’d like to admit.
He doesn’t dare speak, certain that his voice would waver, so he shakes his head instead and tightens his arms around Jun’s shoulders again.
“C’mon, Ohiisan, you need to change and go to bed,” Jun says.
Hiyori whines. He doesn’t want to go to bed. He wants to keep having Jun hold him, wants for Jun to keep playing with his hair like this, wants for the rest of his life to be as peaceful and perfect as this moment. And that all ends the second he and Jun get into different beds and Hiyori has to fall asleep alone.
“Ohiisan,” Jun repeats, a little less forgiving this time.
“I don’t wanna,” Hiyori complains, still not budging. “Jun-kun’s too comfy.”
Jun sighs. “I’m not sitting here all night just so you can sleep like this.”
Jun’s right, but that doesn’t mean Hiyori’s going to be happy about it. He groans loudly and makes a big show of releasing Jun and falling onto the couch. Jun is still pinned down by Hiyori’s legs, so he can’t really move, but he leans over Hiyori with an unamused expression on his face.
“Okay,” he says. “Now get up and change.”
Hiyori makes a face.
“Ohiisan.”
“Fine, fine,” Hiyori grumbles. “You’re so mean to me.”
He doesn’t quite listen to Jun, though, because in his current state he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to unbutton his shirt if he’s standing up. Lying down like this is probably his best shot, so he starts fumbling, first with the single button that’s somehow stayed fastened on his suit jacket this entire time. Clumsy fingers move to his tie next, trying to loosen it without choking himself. It’s admittedly a lot harder than it would be if he were sober, but eventually he manages to get it untied, and then he moves on to his shirt.
Hiyori struggles with the topmost button for far longer than he’d like. It isn’t his fault the buttons are so tiny and the holes are somehow even smaller, but he’s still the one who has to suffer through the torture of doing this seven more times.
But then he remembers that Jun is right there, and Jun has to do everything he says, right?
“Jun-kun,” he says insistently, reaching out to pull Jun closer to him. “I need you to do this for me.”
Jun raises his eyebrows. “You need me to take your shirt off?”
Hiyori nods impatiently. “There are too many buttons on this wretched thing! It’s like it was designed specifically to make life harder for me! Bad weather!”
Jun sighs. “Move your legs,” he instructs. “I can’t unbutton your shirt from this angle.”
Hiyori lifts his legs up immediately, pulling them to his chest so Jun can readjust. Jun gets up on his knees and turns to face Hiyori, leaving enough space between his legs for Hiyori to slide his into the gap. And then Jun shuffles forward, fully straddling Hiyori’s hips, and starts working on the buttons of his shirt.
Hiyori’s heart definitely skips a beat this time. He can feel his entire face heating up as he stares up at Jun, as he realizes what this position would look like to literally anyone.
Jun doesn’t feel the same. Jun doesn’t like him, which means this positioning isn’t intentional. He almost certainly doesn’t realize what he’s doing by sitting like this. But now Hiyori’s imagination is running rampant and he can hardly breathe, thinking about what it would be like if Jun was doing this so he could kiss every inch of Hiyori’s body, if he went for Hiyori’s belt next, if he—
“Ohiisan?”
Jun’s voice snaps Hiyori out of whatever just came over him, and as he looks hesitantly into Jun’s eyes, he realizes that Jun’s finished with his shirt.
Hiyori also realizes that Jun hasn’t moved, even though there’s no reason for him to still be on top of Hiyori like this.
“Sleep in my bed,” Hiyori breathes out. He intends for it to be louder, more casual, but his volume escapes him the longer Jun sits on top of him.
Jun looks surprised. “What?”
Very suddenly, Hiyori comes to the conclusion that he didn’t think this through, and that he really should’ve. He thinks on his feet, trying to come up with a reason that will make sense without being too obvious.
“I—Well, I mean—what if—what if I need you!” he says, trying to sound confident. “What if something happens in the middle of the night and you need to take care of me?”
“You can just wake me up,” Jun says. He doesn’t look convinced.
“You’re such a heavy sleeper,” Hiyori tries. “And there’s no way I can get up that ladder on my own right now! How am I supposed to wake you up if I can’t reach you?”
Jun hesitates. “It’ll be cramped with two of us in one bed,” he says. But his tone shifts a little, and Hiyori’s pretty sure that means he’s on the way to agreeing.
Hiyori puts on a little pout, widening his eyes and sticking his bottom lip out the slightest bit. “It’s just one night,” he pleads.
“You really want me to?” Jun asks.
Hiyori nods, eyes lighting up as he realizes he’s about to get his way. “I do!” he affirms.
“Alright,” Jun says. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. But that means you actually have to get up and change, y’know.”
Hiyori’s far too giddy to be flustered by Jun’s choice of words. “Yep! I’ll be a good boy and change into my pajamas now!”
Jun stands up, climbing off of Hiyori, and offers a hand to help Hiyori up, too. Hiyori takes it and pulls himself upright with slightly too much force, colliding once again with Jun’s chest and discovering that he’s still a lot more drunk than he thought.
“Please be careful,” Jun says, holding Hiyori upright.
“I am,” Hiyori insists. “I’m just a little clumsy right now!”
Jun sighs and releases Hiyori, giving him a light push in the direction of his dresser. Hiyori traipses across the room, coming to a stop right in front of the dresser and pulling his pajama drawer open. He rummages through for a moment, trying to pick out an adequate pair, but he comes to what’s probably the worst realization of the entire night, and his face falls.
“Jun-kun,” he whimpers, turning his head to look at Jun.
Immediately, Jun hurries closer. “What? What’s wrong?”
Hiyori’s lip trembles. “All of my pajama shirts have buttons on them, Jun-kun.”
Jun fights back a smile. “And you’re about to cry because of that?”
“Don’t mock me!” Hiyori whines, pushing Jun’s chest. “I can’t deal with any more buttons tonight!”
“It’s okay, Ohiisan,” Jun says. “You can wear one of my shirts tonight.”
Immediately, Hiyori straightens up. “Oh.”
He hadn’t even known that was an option.
But now that Jun’s offered it up, all of Hiyori’s sadness is gone as he registers the fact that he gets to wear one of Jun’s shirts.
Jun lets out a laugh. “I figured that would fix it,” he says. “Change your pants, and I’ll go grab you a shirt, okay?”
Jun walks away, and Hiyori’s hands move to undo his belt. He pulls his slacks off and grabs a random pair of pajama pants to replace them with, shoving his legs through the holes in an embarrassingly inelegant way. He can only hope that Jun isn’t judging him for how uncoordinated he’s been tonight, but he thinks Jun’s mostly just finding it funny. Not ideal, either, but he’ll take it.
Jun returns with a shirt for Hiyori, holding it out for him to take. Hiyori slips his button-up off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, then grabs Jun’s shirt and pulls it over his head. He resists the urge to inhale as it passes his face, torn between wanting desperately to smell the scent that always clings to Jun’s clothes and knowing that Jun will definitely notice if he does that.
“Jun-kun,” he says instead, reaching out to pull Jun closer. “Come on, it’s bedtime.”
Jun smiles. “Is it, now?”
He lets Hiyori lead him to their beds, then he takes his pillow from the top bunk and drops it next to Hiyori’s.
Now that it’s about to happen, Hiyori is acutely aware that sharing a bed with Jun is risky. Does he stay as far away on the bed as he can? Lean into it and embrace the closeness? What if Jun doesn’t actually want to do this? What if he does something embarrassing while he’s asleep?
What happens when he wakes up, fully sober, in the same bed as Jun?
“What, did you forget how to get in bed?” Jun asks sarcastically. “Please don’t tell me you’re waiting for me to tuck you in.”
Hiyori pulls himself back into the present, turning to look at Jun. “I certainly won’t say no if Jun-kun wants to tuck me in!” he says, aiming for a playful grin.
Jun rolls his eyes and pushes Hiyori down onto the bed. “Do it yourself,” he says. “I need to turn off the lamp.”
Hiyori huffs, but climbs under the covers and waits for Jun. He’s trying not to be nervous about it, but when it’s all said and done there are a lot of things that could go wrong if he isn’t careful. He only has so long to worry, though, before the light is extinguished and Jun slips into the bed next to him.
He all but holds his breath as they lay there, shoulder to shoulder, and this sudden silence is so awkward that Hiyori needs to say something to break it. But what is there to say? A love confession? That idea is laughable, but it’s really all that’s on Hiyori’s mind right now.
Jun isn’t saying anything, either, and that introduces a new worry into Hiyori’s thoughts. Is Jun upset? Hiyori knows he doesn’t like alcohol. He knows the basics of Jun’s upbringing and how awful it was, and he hasn’t really done anything to make Jun hate drunk people any less. He’s been pushy and clingy and whiny and difficult since the moment he got back, and Jun’s silence isn’t doing anything to reassure Hiyori.
“Jun-kun?” he asks, his voice soft. He just needs to know. Maybe if they talk about it, it’ll fix this awful tension in the air.
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at me?”
Hiyori sees, out of the corner of his eye, Jun’s head turn towards him. “Why would I be mad at you?” Jun asks, seeming genuinely surprised.
The pressure in Hiyori’s chest lessens a bit. He keeps his gaze trained on the bottom of Jun’s bunk, not daring to look over at Jun yet.
“I’m drunk,” he mumbles. “I know you hate it. And I’ve been making you take care of me all night, too.”
Jun’s quiet for a moment.
“I hate my dad when he’s drunk,” he corrects finally. “Not you. He was an asshole. You’re just clingier than usual. There’s nothing wrong with that, Ohiisan.”
“You called me stupid,” Hiyori points out.
Jun breathes out a laugh. “You made a stupid choice. That doesn’t mean I’m mad at you.”
“Oh,” Hiyori says softly.
“And I don’t mind taking care of you,” Jun adds hesitantly. “You know that.”
That makes Hiyori’s cheeks get all warm. He didn’t know that, actually; he’d always kind of thought Jun resented the task of looking after him and doing all of the heavy lifting in their partnership. He certainly complains about it enough. But now that Hiyori’s thinking about it, despite his complaints, Jun still does take care of him, oftentimes without being asked. So there’s probably truth to his statement, right?
Hiyori smiles a little. “So you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m not,” Jun assures him. Besides—”
Hiyori feels Jun shift, and then Jun’s hand is on his. Jun takes Hiyori’s pinky and links it with his again, holding them like that.
“I promised, remember?” he finishes.
Hiyori’s breath hitches in his chest. Jun’s pinky practically burns against his own, and he wants so badly to admit everything right here and now, to tell Jun just how much he loves him, to beg Jun to feel the same.
But that’s just his drunk brain thinking. Even if Jun did feel the same, which is unlikely, he can’t confess right now. It’s late, and he’s way too inebriated to be able to appreciate a moment like that properly. He just has to deal with it, has to hold onto his feelings that threaten to explode out of his chest right now.
But still, Jun’s reassurance emboldens him just enough to ask a question that he wouldn’t have dared to voice even a few minutes ago.
“Jun-kun?” he whispers.
“Yeah, Ohiisan?” Jun whispers back.
Hiyori can feel Jun’s eyes fixed on him. “Can I hold you?” he asks, just barely audible. He expects Jun to laugh, or to deny, or to blame it on the alcohol and move on.
“Sure,” Jun says instead.
Finally, Hiyori turns his head to look at Jun. “Really?”
Jun nods. “I don’t have a problem with it. It’ll probably be comfier than lying like this, anyways.”
Hiyori smiles and shifts so he’s facing Jun. He cautiously throws an arm over Jun’s chest, inches closer, and presses his lips against Jun’s shoulder.
Technically a kiss, but not one Jun will notice. His own little secret, at least for now.
He expects Jun to stay how he is, to just indulge Hiyori and fall asleep on his own, but then Jun turns into him and pulls Hiyori into a loose embrace. Hiyori’s eyes widen as his legs tangle with Jun’s, as he leans into Jun’s chest.
“Jun-kun wanted to hold me, too,” he says, feeling almost giddy.
“Shut up,” Jun mutters above his head. “You’re drunk, Ohiisan. Just go to sleep.”
Hiyori giggles. “I am drunk,” he agrees.
“I can’t believe you’re still this drunk,” Jun says. His hand finds its way back into Hiyori’s hair, moving slowly up and down. “You’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow.”
The motion relaxes Hiyori immediately, and now that the air between them is back to normal—if not a little more intimate than usual—the all-encompassing drowsiness he felt earlier in Jun’s arms is hitting him like a brick wall.
“It’s okay,” he says, breathing deeply as he presses his face into Jun’s shirt. “Jun-kun can take care of me in the morning, too.”
“I hope you can hear my eyes rolling,” Jun responds, but Hiyori can hear the fondness in his voice.
Hiyori hums, his eyes falling shut. “You just said you like taking care of me,” he points out.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jun sighs. “Shut up and go to sleep, Ohiisan.”
Hiyori yawns. “’Kay,” he whispers. “Goodnight, Jun-kun.”
“’Night,” Jun whispers back.
As Jun’s hand keeps stroking through Hiyori’s hair, Hiyori feels sleep pulling him under. Before he allows it to take him, though, he pulls back from Jun’s chest just enough to mouth the words I love you, careful to make sure he’s silent.
One more secret for the night.
Maybe, if he’s lucky, this is the last time it has to be a secret.
But even if it’s not, he’s okay with how they are right now. If Jun’s willing to hold him, to take care of him, to stay with him like this, he’s willing to wait as long as it takes.