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The clock showed exactly 11 p.m. when Otoya, hugging a huge pillow, stared a little too intently at the shadows projected onto the ceiling of Karasu’s bedroom, as if that were the most entertaining thing in the world. He was nervous—more than he liked to admit—and even though it wasn’t the first time he was sleeping over at his boyfriend’s place or in his bed, the sensation still gave him butterflies in his stomach.
He had to admit, with a hint of nostalgia, that things used to feel much simpler. Back then, he could sprawl out on the living room couch, steal all of Karasu’s blankets even if the crow-haired boy got mad, eat whatever he wanted from the pantry, and fall asleep late watching shows—sometimes with Karasu, sometimes alone. But now… now he had traded the sofa for the comfort of his boyfriend’s bed, falling asleep in his arms, and, most importantly, he could wear Karasu’s clothes to sleep.
“Here, I’m leaving you this T-shirt and these pants, they’re clean, so you don’t complain later that I gave you dirty clothes,” Karasu said, tossing the sacred pajama combo straight at Otoya’s face, not even looking at him as if it were no big deal. But Otoya knew, by the way Karasu’s lips trembled at the corners, that he was nervous too. “Although, you could just sleep naked and I wouldn’t complain…”
The albino rolled his eyes, smiling softly, but didn’t reply, knowing that if he started openly flirting with Karasu, he’d end up biting the pillow before midnight—and he wasn’t sure his heart could take it. When Karasu left the room to give him privacy to change, Otoya stood for a long while just looking at the shirt in his hands. It was black and pretty baggy, considering the difference in musculature between the two; Otoya knew it would be slightly oversized, and, on top of that, it smelled a lot like Karasu.
And that’s where the trouble started…
The first breath was almost accidental—like when you sniff a shirt before putting it on—and suddenly his senses caught it: the unmistakable scent of his boyfriend, that woody cologne, mixed with neutral soap, a hint of coffee, and above all, that clean, deep scent—masculine and comforting—all at once, that only Karasu had, and which made Otoya’s senses reel.
The albino felt the butterflies in his stomach grow even stronger, his pulse racing, his heart thudding hard against his chest. Without thinking, he breathed in again, deeper this time, as if he could capture the essence contained in the shirt and keep it forever in his lungs and memory.
“Oh God…” Otoya murmured in bliss, pressing the fabric to his nose. “Why do you have to smell so good, damn crow…?”
Without wasting any more time, Otoya pulled off his own shirt and put on Karasu’s, feeling how the scent now completely enveloped him, surrounding him in a way that was even more intense. For a second, the albino had to close his eyes to keep from moaning out loud. “Control yourself, Eita,” he told himself, but he simply couldn’t help it—every breath was a constant reminder of who that shirt belonged to, and of the nights Karasu had probably worn it, molding it to his body like a second skin.
When he finished putting on the pants, which, unsurprisingly, were also baggy, Karasu’s scent mixed with his own, and for an instant, Otoya imagined sleeping like that every night, wrapped in his boyfriend’s scent and cocooned by the comforting warmth of his bed. He felt those same butterflies in his stomach again, but this time there was something else—something hotter and more dangerous, lower down in his body. Just then, Karasu came into the room, without knocking, like someone who knows he owns the space, and saw his boyfriend standing in the middle of the room, hugging himself.
“Everything okay, Eita?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with a half-smile.
“Yeah, yeah…” Otoya stammered, swallowing hard and avoiding Karasu’s ocean-blue gaze that clearly said “I caught you.” “Just… you know… your clothes… your clothes smell good.”
Karasu raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused, starting to approach his boyfriend slowly, like someone approaching a wild creature.
“Really? That much?” he asked, stopping right in front of the albino, so close Otoya could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“Uh-huh…” Otoya didn’t know what else to say, so, in a fit of brutal honesty that would embarrass him to death if he thought about it too much, he added in a tiny voice: “I don’t know if this is a kink, but… I really like how you smell.”
“That explains why you took so long.” Karasu said, putting a hand on Otoya’s waist. “You know what’s best? Now you smell like me.”
“You’re weird, Tabi…” the albino replied, feeling like his heart was about to explode in his chest. He wanted to say something else—something clever or silly so he wouldn’t seem so nervous—but all that came out was a sigh.
“Me?” Karasu couldn’t help but let out a low, rough laugh, the kind that made the hair on the back of Otoya’s neck stand up. “You’re the one sniffing my clothes like an addict, idiot.”
“That’s not true!” protested the albino, though the slight blush on his cheeks gave him away. “I told you, I just like it…”
“If you want, you can keep it,” Karasu said, smiling softly and almost tenderly, settling the T-shirt over the shorter boy’s shoulders.
“No,” Otoya answered, shaking his head. “If I keep it, it’ll lose the smell. I’d rather stay here every night and put it on.”
Karasu didn’t say anything, but the sparkle in his blue eyes was answer enough. That night, they got into bed together and Otoya snuggled up close to Karasu’s chest, seeking as much skin-to-skin contact as possible, never stopping to inhale the scent that fascinated him so much. Karasu wrapped his arms around Otoya’s waist and gave him a short kiss on the forehead. For a while, neither of them said a word, but honestly, nothing more was needed.
“I really like being here…” Otoya murmured, half-asleep and with his voice already slurred by drowsiness. “Like this, surrounded by you.”
Karasu smiled into his hair and squeezed him even tighter to his chest, with that mix of love and tranquility of someone who knows that, deep down, everything that makes sense in the world can fit into a bed, a borrowed T-shirt, and a pair of open arms.
“Me too, Eita…” he whispered, barely audible, as if he was afraid to ruin the intimate moment that had formed between them. “Stay as long as you want… Stay forever…”
And so, between soft words, shared scents, and gentle caresses, Otoya fell asleep convinced that paradise smelled like Karasu and home…