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“It’s because you’re always looking downwards.” Despite this, Tobi wordlessly takes Fuchi’s left hand, guiding him along slowly. Late at night, the quiet footsteps of the distinctive pair echo through the empty street, long past midnight. The pole crashed into was left unharmed, but the same couldn’t be said for Fuchi’s forehead, still being rubbed by his free hand.
His usual shift at the movie rental store had ended late due to a rude customer, so Tobi had gone to pick him up. “Who knows what sort of characters are out at this hour.” he had said, the piercing gaze he always wore darting around, searching for anything that could pose a danger to them. A certain chaotic red-haired individual flashed in Tobi’s mind. If he were here, he’d definitely drag Fuchi over drinking with him.
Ever since the Insomnia incident, for some reason the mysterious balloon illness has all but disappeared all together, and Fuchi’s still not as used to seeing faces normally. It’s almost become natural to him to look down rather than at what’s in front of him. As always, Tobi looks out for him, even in the most trivial ways. It’s lucky he’s shorter than me. The thought brings a rare smile to Fuchi’s face, slightly warming his cheeks up as he gazes at the shorter boy.
~~~~~~~~
Even as he steps into the apartment, Tobi still hasn’t let go of Fuchi’s hand, neither does he want to. It’s warm. But when should I let go? The thought rings in his mind. I don’t want to let go, remains unsaid, unadmitted. Tobi’s heartbeat speeds up, just the slightest bit, unnoticed by anyone else besides himself. His fingers trace over the rough burn scar, lingering as if memorising its unique shape. The action brings a barely visible flush to Fuchi’s face which isn’t missed by Tobi, who in return tightens his grip, enjoying the tingling sensation it gives him. His own blush is subtle, unseen by Fuchi’s poor eyesight.
Despite normally being the more talkative of the two, the habit of rambling on when he’s relaxed, Fuchi doesn’t utter a word, as if doing so would destroy the delicateness of the moment. His rare quiet demeanor conceals the train of thoughts behind his deep black eyes. Tobi’s hands are so cold. Maybe that’s why he’s holding mine. His hands are surprisingly rough since he fights a lot.
The footsteps of the shorter boy stop at the entrance, his head dipping forward slightly. The grip on Fuchi’s hand loosens slightly, leaving ample room to wriggle out. It’s times like these that his quality of easily falling asleep shines through, he observes, recalling other times he’s witnessed Tobi sleeping while standing. To think he was willing to stay up this late to pick me up. A small giggle escapes him, before he focuses once again. I should move him to the couch.
“Tobi, wake up, you can’t sleep here.” Fuchi’s futile attempts are met with faint groans and stirring. Wriggling his hands out of the sleeping boy’s grip, still tight as ever, his arms reach to untie Tobi’s shoelaces in hopes of getting them off, and both of them out of the entryway. The knots fall apart slowly, being pulled apart with clumsy hands. Tobi’s really good with small tasks like these, he thinks, unfortunately Fuchi was never good with meticulous handwork in any way.
Just as he’s about to stand up, Fuchi’s pulled forward, crashing head-on, wrapped into a tight hug. “Don’t go, Bucchi.” he hears, feeling the tingling of Tobi's voice, whispering into his ear as both their chin digs further into each other’s shoulders. The body leaning against him doesn’t stiffen, but doesn’t seem to relax either.
~~~~~~~~
The warmth from the hand Tobi was holding disappeared, leaving him cold once again. Where is his hand that I want to hold so badly? He searches, fumbling amidst the haze of slumber, his heavy eyelids leaving him cloaked in the darkness of the night. Maybe he’d have to search forever for one.
Tobi’s fingers, reaching for something nearby, latch onto Fuchi’s retreating hand, pulling him closer. Tracing over the familiar grey patch he often found himself staring at, curious of the texture. I’ve found you. The thought takes over as Tobi tightens his hold around the warm body, wrapping his arms even tighter around his shoulders and waist.
“Stay by my side,” a second passes, though it feels like an eternity, before Fuchi relaxes, slumping against the smaller boy, shifting in his embrace. It brought a sense of security no heavy blankets could. Bringing the scarred hand to cup his face, Tobi opens his eyes slightly, studying Fuchi’s flustered expression. I don’t need to search anymore. A rushing warmth fills his chest, accompanied by the rising heartbeat flush against his own. Drifting back to sleep, his usual stiffness loosens, revealing a small smile. Can we stay like this forever?
~~~~~~~~
Feeling the hand on his slip away, Fuchi moved to reciprocate the embrace, enveloping his counterpart with warm arms, though not as tight, just as sincere and full of unfamiliar emotion. He really is cold. This time, silence was comforting. It was reassuring to know Tobi felt safe around him too. It’s comfortable, but the ground probably isn’t for Tobi. At least my clothes won’t be torn this time. While Fuchi reminisces on the times he needed to mend his mysteriously torn clothing, he manages to drift off as well with hopes they might greet the next morning together.
~~~~~~~~
Tobi’s consciousness slowly returns, recollections of the night’s events returning to him. His eyes open, gazing at the one in his arms, feeling warmth spread throughout once again. Fuchi, surprisingly, seems to be still asleep, a lucky break from the constant insomnia. Ah. My neck’s sore. Must’ve been the floor. Tobi stands up, lifting Fuchi up, gently cradling him so as to not disturb his rest. He’s too light.
Wordlessly sitting on the couch, Tobi settles Fuchi against himself, tucking a lock of curly hair behind his ear, taking in familiar features. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to stir, face maintaining its serene expression, burying himself further into Tobi’s shoulder. The lack of sunlight prompts Tobi to go back to sleep, complying immediately, but not before catching one last glimpse of a smile. Huh, so even he can have nice dreams after all.
——Bonus——
“...would’ve thought Tobi would…” “they’re so cute!” “shh, they’ll wake up” “I’m hungry” “Look Tobi’s awake!”
Those voices… both Ryuukos? Even Monika’s here too… He begrudgingly opens his eyes, already missing the quietness of the night. “Fuchi-kun looks just like a cat, doesn’t he?”, the human Ryuuko says, leaning closer to get a closer look at the pair as small grumbles reach Tobi’s ears. His arms, still grasping onto Fuchi, tighten subconsciously, an action so small only Monika notices. “Well, we’ll leave you to it. Enjoy yourselves.”. She speaks in a teasing tone, focusing on monitoring Tobi’s micro-expressions as he turns away, observing the slight pinkness dusting his face before changing directions, carrying Baku and ushering the Ryuukos back out the door.
“Let’s send those pictures to Hiruma-san. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” And tease them about it later, remained unsaid.