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A stick of chocolate covered biscuit bridged between their lips, the only part connecting them to each other.
It was quite an intimate scene. A frame of absolute intimacy that disregards both person’s relation towards each other. But it didn't stop there, as both parties advanced so painfully slowly. The couple was getting closer and closer to each other, their faces mere centimeters from each other, the gap slowly closing in right until…
Their lips pressed together for a brief moment, before parting as they both were taken aback by the outcome.
Sunday’s wings fluffed up and covered his flushed face, yet there was a gap between his feathers of which his eyes were glued onto the screen.
“Woah! That’s a trend, alright.” Caelus muttered, biting into the straw of his orange juice as he watched the video closely before snatching Stelle’s phone and shoving it towards Dan Heng. “Dan Heng! I’ll buy the pocky, you record it with your phone!”
Dan Heng huffed in exasperation. “Since when did I agree… Also, why my phone specifically?”
“Stelle broke hers because she used it as a frisbee so she took mine.”
“So that’s actually your phone you’re holding? Wait a minute, why did she even use her phone as—”
“That’s not important!” Stelle interrupted Dan Heng, placing her arms on his shoulders to snatch back the phone. Settling between March and Caelus’ positions, she sat with her legs crossed. “Anyways, don’t you guys think this trend is just sooo romantic~? Imagine the tension, the heat, the drama!”
“Mhmm! Oh, I can just feel the romance floating in the air already!” March piped up from between her sips of Immortal’s Delight. “But I wonder if couples actually do this in their free time or if it's just a trend for clicks… I mean, not that I’m one to know!”
Stelle immediately perked up, grinned wildly, and spun around towards the most embarrassed of their group just by simply seeing a couple kiss.
“I think we have someone who can verify~”
All eyes turned towards Sunday, who had been wisely quiet up until the attention turned to him.
Of everyone in their group, Sunday is the only one in a relationship, with Anaxagoras of all people. No one else could’ve seen it coming. For such a cold arrogant guy to fall for their resident polite softboy of the group, some of their mutual friends were a bit worried for their relationship, but the both of them had proven to be even more surprising as they are going strong even after months of dating.
Shocked from the sudden attention, Sunday shrunk back into himself and prepared to open his mouth in protest, before Stelle and Caelus beat him to it.
“Oh, Sunny boy~” Stelle approached the stiff man with a teasing look.
Caelus has the exact copy of her expression, placing his elbow on Sunday's shoulder. “Why not try it out on your sweet widdle boyfriend, hmm~?”
March unfortunately joined in, chirping in with a mischievous smile. “Yeah yeah! don’t tell me you guys don’t do this sweet ushy gushy mushy stuff in private, either~?”
‘Not really?!’
Him and Anaxagoras weren’t exactly the type to be overly physical with one another. The both of them have discussed this briefly before, how Sunday was still so easily flustered from physical touch, and Anaxagoras just isn't used to engaging in intimate contact with someone. Due to being each other’s first relationship, they have no prior experience on how to behave like how a typical couple would, choosing to go with their flow and where their hearts guide them.
But… To say that they aren’t interested would be lying.
Sunday had seen the way Anaxagoras looked at him at times, and it wasn’t the usual innocent look of affection. And Sunday himself couldn’t betray his heart to say that he minded such things. There were moments where the atmosphere became heated, a tense stifling silence with stolen glances and flushed cheeks, yet it never escalated into anything more.
In the end, they are quite far away from being the type of couple shown in the twins’ social media platforms.
"I'm not quite sure what you're all imagining, but Anaxagoras and I aren't so... Touchy."
“Aww, really? Not even a liiiiiitle bit?" March tilts her head with a knowing smirk.
Sunday chose the right to remain silent, which only triggered the three of them to act.
“Come ooooonnnn— tell us!”
“We need the tea! The coffee! The Soulglad! Whatever you drink!”
“Don’t be shy~ We’re gonna keep this to ourselves anyway! Spill the beans!”
They pounced onwards, hands clasped together whilst leaning towards him, wide eyed and sparkling with faux innocence as they tried their best to pout as pitifully as possible. Caelus clung onto his left arm with pathetic little whines, March steered the front with determined puffed up cheeks, and Stelle gripped at his right arm with loud sniffles.
Sunday shielded himself from their pleading eyes with his trusty wings, knowing very well that if he looked back to those eyes, he would relent easily and become a victim of their whims.
"It isn't our business to be butting into their relationship." Dan Heng cuts through the three's whining, yanking the twins by their hoods before giving March a scolding look. "Let's not crowd him.”
The trio immediately wilted at Dan Heng’s intervention, but letting go of such a juicy topic was impossible. Despite being restricted by her hood, Stelle kept her gaze on the hiding halovian with a glint in her eyes.
"But Sunny," Stelle's gaze hardened with a gravity that does not befit her. "You guys surely have kissed before, right?"
“...” Sunday turned his face away, the blush now blaring furiously on his face.
Truth be told, they haven’t. They have kissed each other’s hands, cheeks, hair… But even those were rare, as they don’t exactly feel the need to express their love by such gestures. They understood each other through words, making their feelings clear through sharing their minds. He’s aware that they’re going at their own pace, and Sunday himself was still very much hesitant about it. But he wanted to go a little further, an advancement on their relationship, but he isn’t sure how to go about it.
It’s as if the both of them were dancing around the topic, unsure of how the other would react, whether it’ll only pressure one side whilst keeping the other unsatisfied. Sunday is deathly terrified of ruining the flow that they had, of turning things out of the peaceful balance that they had simply due to his greed. He’s afraid that Anaxagoras would find it troublesome, before feeling guilty of thinking about his lover that way.
Still, though… To replicate that scene played on the wild grey haired duo's phone... He may have desired that himself, but the vision alone is enough to make him blush furiously. Sunday had been too much of a prude to ever consider a relationship before, so imagining himself committing these acts could almost grill his brain completely.
Dan Heng flicks her forehead, the sound almost reverberating through the room before he gave Sunday an apologetic look. The girl let out a small noise of surprise, rubbing at the sore spot with a jut of her lip.
“H-hey! I’m just asking! Besides, if he hasn’t then this pocky trend could be something that makes it happen, y’know?”
‘...!’
His mind turned blank whilst his ears became filled with cotton. He couldn’t register the noises of arguments in the background, too stuck on the realization that the idea might not be so bad.
Stelle… Might just be a genius?
ʚ֍ɞ
He understood the gist of it.
The pocky game, or pocky challenge as others would also call it, is a game with only two players and a specific snack as the bridge between the players.
The point of the pocky game is to advance ahead whilst eating the stick to embarrass the other participant to back out of the competition. It’s a game of tension, used either to encourage reckless romance or an advancement between two parties.
Overall, it's something Sunday wouldn't invite someone in a casual manner. In fact, it's something that no one would ever think he would suggest. The ever so elegant and innocent Sunday, taking his lover by the hand and asking him to play such a seductive game, who would ever think of that?
Sunday himself, apparently.
It was something so boldly provocative, a small simple game that somehow breaks almost every principle of civility that had seared right into his bare bones. Such a lack of distance that decreases with each shared bite into the same edible that eventually leads to a loving kiss.
His thoughts kept circling back to that video, of the two people looking into each other’s eyes, lips so close that they can almost feel their lips curving upwards, before eventually crashing right into home. It felt so intimate, yet so… Casual.
Him and Anaxagoras couldn't compare to such a couple. Each time either of them tried to make a move, the other would somehow not understand the goal or evade the gesture altogether, making any romantic advancement quite awkward as they stick to their comfortable zone of conversing.
Anaxagoras is an outstanding partner, don't get him wrong. But somehow the man can be a bit dense when it comes to social interactions. He was blunt, straight to the point, in which Sunday was almost the total opposite, with his flowery words and mannerism. With those two differing factors, it's only imaginable how Sunday's flirtations can end in awkward silence at times, both his verbal advances and even physical advances were lost in translation more often than not.
But it's not as if Sunday is free of sin. Anytime Anaxagoras would brush his fingers against his lips, he found himself pursing them, as if to limit the other's touch from him. With each close proximity Anaxagoras tested: secretly curling his hand around his waist as they walk out the gates, letting his eyes linger on his lips a little too long, or how Anaxagoras’ lips would kiss his hand way a little too hard like he's trying to mark itself into his skin, all of them resulted in Sunday scooting away with a furious blush.
So the both of them stalled, waited, and yearned, yet neither dared to ever cross the boundaries that had formed over time.
But to say that they aren’t interested would be lying. Times have changed, and they found themselves poking at the paper thin barrier just for some reprieve. Sunday can see that Anaxagoras’ desires itched under his skin, just like Sunday's needs were slowly suffocating him alive.
‘Maybe it's time to officially take things further.’ Sunday mused as his eyes glued onto the innocent snack inside the bag, head buzzing with menial thoughts of the psychology of romance before arriving back to his dorm.
Placing the small pack inside the bedside nightstand, Sunday picked up his phone and anxiously typed out a message to one of his top contacts.
[Sunday]
Are you free this afternoon?
[Anaxagoras]
Since my last class of the day ends at 3, I should be.
[Anaxagoras]
But if the professor happens to pull me away for a discussion about my choice of argument again, I hope you don't mind having to wait a little longer.
Sunday felt his heart flutter in hope. His fingers flew over the keyboard, punching in the keys at record speed.
[Sunday]
I don’t mind.
[Sunday]
I would like to spend some time together with you. Would you like to meet in my dorm?
He felt a little bit embarrassed typing that out. Somehow it felt just a tad bit too... naughty. It's not as if they haven't hung out in each other's dorms before, so how come it felt a bit more forbidden this time?
[Anaxagoras]
Of course.
[Anaxagoras]
I'll see you then, birdie.
He slams his face into his hands, finding his wings no longer adequate to hide his burning face.
The second step of the plan has succeeded. Sunday puts his phone away, cheeks already burning at the thought of what will unfold.
Anaxagoras, just barely a few inches away from him, looking right at his soul with his usual teasing look. His teeth clamped lightly around the stick, biting it off but by bit and his smirk widened upon approaching Sunday with a nefarious plan brewing in his head.
He could already hear that sarcastic voice echoing in his ears. Feeling shy, angel? the Anaxagoras in his head would hover just barely enough not to touch, but enough to speak into his lips. Remember, you were the one who proposed this game. If you're not going to back down… then how about you move forward?
His heart felt like it might explode.
ʚ֍ɞ
After a few hours of cleaning up, positioning everything in its place, reassuring himself to not back down from his goal, and fussing over his appearance, Sunday finally heard those familiar sets of knocks at his door. The halovian spared not a second to linger, bolting towards the door and allowed Anaxagoras inside, the latter carrying a small plastic bag with sweets inside.
"Apologies, the professor actually did hold me back for a small talk. I hope I didn't make you wait long."
"No, no. I was... I was simply relaxing as I waited for you." Agh, curse it all. Sunday couldn't dispel the pink staining his cheeks nor can he act as he usually does with such anticipation brimming under his skin. He can only hope that Anagoras won’t call him out on it.
The taller man entered the room with casual familiarity, placing his bag down on the dark wooden desk before slumping down on the carpeted floor.
“Tired?” Sunday gently took the space beside him, knees hugged tight onto his own thudding chest as he watched every single sluggish move.
Anaxagoras groaned. “Tired would be an understatement. I’m getting sick of having to deal with contrarians who argue just for the sake of appearances instead of actually trying to prove a point. How come there’s absolutely braindead idiots on the grounds that are supposed to filter them out early on? Ridiculous.”
The halovian chuckled, finding his lover’s grumblings cute despite the venomous words. Listening raptly to the other’s ramblings, his mind starts to drift off to the pocky hidden inside his drawer. The courage that he had built up was slowly wavering, feeding doubts and anxieties into his mind as he desperately reassured himself.
“What’s wrong?”
Anaxagoras snapped him out of his reverie, staring right into his eyes with a curious expression.
“Ah, pardon?”
“It looked like you had something in your mind. If there’s a problem, then feel free to share with me.”
Teal-magenta eyes stared at him with sincerity, trying to search for any shred of hints of his current predicament.
“Oh, it’s… I was merely reminded of my own troublesome dealings with people, is all.”
He could feel Anaxagoras’ doubt on his skin, but the other chose not to press him on it, thankfully.
“Well, I’m all ears. Do share with me just as I’ve shared with you.”
Sunday smiled wryly at the suggestion, but talking about his mundane day would surely be enough to sate the other’s curiosity. He does feel a little guilty about it, though, whispering an apology to Anaxagoras internally as his lips opened themselves.
They chatted for a while, talking about their days, mundane topics that came up in their mind, or even anything that they’re into.
“Hyacine kept sending me these videos of cats being puppeteered by their owners to dance.” Anaxagoras muttered, tapping his fingers against the table as those videos circled in his mind. “There were a lot of variants to many different songs too, so I asked her why there were so many cats being controlled by their paws to dance. Apparently it’s a trend amongst the populace to toy with their pets’ autonomy and dignity. If I had my own pet, I would treat them with the utmost respect equal to a fellow scholar’s and teach it to dance myself.”
“Ah, I know that one. The cats seemed so content, and a lot of them were said to be purring a lot during the recording process. It’s very adorable.”
“Well, of course they are. But I digress.”
But speaking of trends, he was then reminded again of his original goal in inviting Anaxagoras into his dorm today. His lips pursed, muscles suddenly losing his relaxed behavior as he reached for the hidden snack,
“Speaking of trends… There’s one that I would like to try with you.” Sunday slowly asked, cheeks already forming a blush as his hand grasped on the box tightly.
“Oh?” The philosopher raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the sudden turn of events.
He revealed the neat packaged box to the philosopher, hiding half of his face behind the innocent package of desserts.
“Do… Do you know about the pocky game?”
Anaxagoras tilts his head, interested as to what could turn Sunday into a shy, hesitant person compared to his usual composed self.
“I don’t think I do.”
Without another word, Sunday showed him a video exactly like the one Stelle had shown him.
He stared at Sunday’s phone with his jaws agape, watching as the two people inch ever so close until their lips almost touch.
“... How did you know about this?”
“Stelle showed it to us between classes.”
Anaxagoras felt a headache forming just from hearing that name being uttered. Anything that girl does is either heroic or unhinged. Or heroically unhinged.
“And you… want to do it?”
Sunday merely nodded, wings framing his cheeks as his eyes looked up at him pleadingly.
“If… If you don’t mind. Of course, you are free to reject it if you are not comfortable with the activity.”
Silently, Anaxagoras picks up a stick of pocky and places his mouth on the uncovered end.
Well that was some very quick decision making. Despite his own initial shock, seeing Anaxagoras so eagerly complying to Sunday's request makes heart flutter with joy, slowly inching closer to place himself across his lover and bite on the other end.
Only to back away again after experiencing just how close Anaxagoras is to his face.
Seeing those eyes that he loves, he found himself already gushing internally over how close their faces are in his mind, eyes getting lost in those teal and magenta colored irises. He was so flustered that he could barely face forwards again, which earned him a chuckle from the philosopher that snapped him out of his reverie.
“Come on, angel. You asked for this. Don't tell me you're backing out now after I have so kindly indulged you.”
“Please be quiet...” His wings folded close to his cheeks, trying his absolute best to regain his composure before finally returning to his initial position.
Sunday tries to advance forward with one small bite, trying to gauge his opponent’s reaction as he goes. Anaxagoras takes half the distance of what Sunday bit, barely advancing from his end. His eyes were also observing Sunday in return, but his gaze held unwavering determination.
Two pairs of lips marched onwards, munching down slowly on the sweet as the distance between them closed. Taking a glance onto Anaxagoras’ face, the sight of his stoic lover sporting a blush was enough to make him feel embarrassed. Not to mention that their faces were getting so so so so close to each other!
Sunday closed his eyes, bracing himself for the kiss that is bound to happen from how things are proceeding. His heart thundered loudly, deafening his ears as his teeth paused their bites. Forcing his breath to steady itself, he waited for the other to finally meet him halfway and grace his lips with a kiss.
…
‘...?’
Sunday cracked open an eye to see why he hadn't felt anything, only to find Anaxagoras watching him quietly with a smug expression.
“So that’s what you look like when you’re waiting for a kiss.”
"?!"
It shocked Sunday so bad that he backed away on instinct, abandoning the stick in lieu of comfort as he tried to fight off the furious blush that bleeds into his neck. He realised that he must’ve looked like a fool; all red faced with an expression so scrunched up that he looked like a disheveled plastic bag.
“Don’t– don’t tease me!”
Anaxagoras merely swiped the remaining stick into his mouth, savoring the sweet flavor. His eyes glimmered with a childish mirth, cheeks now blossoming with a deeper shade of pink paired with a lovesick smirk on his face.
"I'm starting to see the appeal of this game." Even his voice bleeds with giddiness, unable to contain himself as he impatiently swipes another stick out of the box, eager to start another round.
“Come on, we still have plenty of sticks.”
Somehow, Sunday felt like he’s getting himself into a pit of vipers.
“... Again.”
And yet, he willingly stepped into it.
[0-1]
Steeling himself up, Sunday latched into the other end of the stick.
'Perhaps... I should take the lead.' With a gulp, Sunday took the plunge by taking a quarter of the stick, effectively taking a headstart. This move caught Anaxagoras off guard, but Sunday pushed himself onwards. He put up a brave front, eyes never leaving Anaxagoras' even as he took more big bites.
Until, Anaxagoras started to copy him.
Sunday's bravado easily faltered, eyes flitting down to see that the stick now has a less than favorable length, which means it's only a matter of seconds until their lips would close in once more, creeping in just close enough to hover before they touch. That thought alone was enough to make Sunday's eyes tremble, wings flapping nervously as he braced himself.
‘Deep breaths…!’ With a sharp inhale, Sunday held his breath, nervously taking small bites forward with deep anticipation running through his nerves. He can feel the heat emanating from Anaxagoras, feel his breath running through his skin, feel the way their hearts beat as one as they… oh, oh goodness, they’re getting a bit too close. Sunday starts to feel anxiousness seep in, his mind supplying itself with numerous what-ifs—
As if sensing the other’s panic, Anaxagoras bit off his end of the stick, marking his loss and tying their score.
The mint haired man chuckled, taking out another stick of pocky from the package. He twirls the snack between his fingers, gazing on Sunday's indignant face as if it was the only dessert he needs.
"No rush. We can take all the time in this world until you're satisfied."
“—! L-let’s go again!”
[1-1]
A new stick is procured, placed between their lips once again.
This time… This time! Sunday is sure to get that kiss!
He took it slow, trying to get a read on his boyfriend’s emotion. Surely, if he takes his time basking in the warmth of Anaxa's presence, he wouldn't get so nervous when their lips eventually meet.
Only this time, despite the generous distance they had compared to the previous round, a simple brush of their noses was enough to make Sunday flinch away, instantly breaking the fragile stick with his sudden action.
“Oh? So quick to withdraw.” The philosopher grinned, taking the rest of the stick into his mouth.
Sunday regarded Anaxagoras’ quip as background noise, opting to calm his heart by facing away from its natural predator.
“... One more time.”
[1-2]
Anaxagoras bit off his end of the stick, marking his loss and tying their score. Leaning back on the bed, he quietly chewed the snack whilst wiping the crumbs on his lips.
'...what?'
Sunday's jaw dropped, the stick nearly falling off if they weren't caught by his teeth. They were so close! So close to kissing. Did... Anaxagoras did that on purpose? Or maybe Sunday accidentally bit it too hard, which caused the stick to break. Yeah, maybe he got so nervous that he-
Anaxagoras finally glanced back at Sunday with a smirk, licking off the chocolate that had smeared on his lips.
Oh, the audacity.
Sunday felt his hands snaking up to touch his lips, body slacking as his heart hammered just a little too loudly in his ears. He isn't even sure if he felt angry or relieved, just that the situation is becoming dangerous.
"What's that look for? I thought you'd be happy to win." Anaxagoras chuckled at Sunday's indignified expression, wiping off his hand onto a sheet of tissue. "I'm playing by the rules, yet I'm scorned for it. That doesn't seem fair."
“Oh, hush! Another round!”
[2-2]
The rounds became endless, with each loss to both parties ending up piling frustration on Sunday’s end. Every time Anaxagoras broke the stick and pulled away, he felt like whining. But every time their faces got too close, he felt too nervous to go any further and pulled away, which made Sunday frustrated with himself.
Anaxagoras seemed to be enjoying himself, though, soaking up each and every single one of his reactions like a sponge. It’s as if he’s discovering a new side of Sunday, one so driven by desire that he became a fool of love.
His lover bit off the pocky one more time, turning his face away so that he wouldn’t have to look at Sunday’s betrayed expression yet again.
“One– one more time!” Sunday pleaded, reaching into the box lying haphazardly just nearby only for his fingers to find absolutely nothing.
The box is empty.
They stared blankly at the desolate alumunium pouch in disbelief, unable to comprehend that they spent the entire package doing this cursed game.
“It seems that the game’s over.” Anaxagoras noted with a smirk, yet there was a hint of disappointment as he stared at the empty package.
It’s as if a death knell had rung through the air. Sunday didn't foresee this happening. He didn't expect this game to repeat so many times that they would ever run out, so he didn’t prepare for another box. His eyes fixated on the small crumbs tumbling out of the pouch, silently cursing himself for not buying at least 50 boxes.
“That was… A fun challenge to partake in.” Anaxagoras awkwardly cleared his throat. “Should there be another chance to play it, I wouldn’t be opposed. I mean— if you would also be willing to participate, that is. No rush.”
Watching Anaxagoras slowly pull away, desperately trying to give him the comfort of their unspoken boundaries back, Sunday found himself wanting to cry. He doesn't want this atmosphere to go. He doesn't want this searing warmth to ever fade. He wants to preserve it, store it into his beating heart, and feed it forever. If he ever lets this chance slip, there won't be a better time.
Something that is exclusive to couples only, something that doesn’t feel like a substitute for the real thing. It feels like a seal for their relationship, a sacred contact of benign skin to skin as a show of love. He wants it, the desire for a small kiss on the lips devouring him whole until it takes control over his body.
With determination simmering loudly in his eyes, Sunday crawls over towards Anaxagoras, hands braced on the floor as he does not trust himself not to fall into the other’s arms. The philosopher's eyes widened at the act, not expecting Sunday to ever take the lead on his own.
Their faces were inches apart, both pairs of eyes eyeing each other’s lips with desire. They did as they had been for the past couple of minutes, allowing themselves to be pulled along into each other’s gravity with tension budding in their muscles, breaths becoming one due to their enclosed proximity.
Their lips met. Soft and sweet, unsure of whether it's due to the chocolate coating their lips or whether love had always tasted this addicting. They parted only when they were out of breath.
“There you go, angel.” Breathless, Anaxa’s hand comes up to pat his head softly, rewarding the shorter man with an immensely adoring look. “Took you a little while, but you did it.”
Anaxa tilts his head to meet his eyes, teal-magenta eyes brimming with fondness and love.
“I had an inkling that this silly game was just a front, but for it to be proven like this… Well, I'm not one to complain.”
Sunday huffed out an embarrassed chuckle. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh please, you do realize that you don't need such adolescent games to kiss your lover now, do you?”
The halovian giggled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the plan of the gray haired man, but having a smart brain is definitely a plus on Anaxa’s side.
Something that is exclusive to couples only, something that doesn’t feel like a substitute for the real thing. It feels like a seal for their relationship, a sacred contact of benign skin to skin as a show of love. Sunday had finally achieved what he yearned for, and he couldn’t help but feel himself smiling like a fool at the thought.
But the way Anaxa seemed so casual about it annoys him, so he doesn’t bother to give a reply and instead pulls away and rests his head on the bed.
“How cruel.” Anaxa chuckled, snaking his hand around Sunday’s, kissing the back with such overwhelming fondness that he could drown in it.
Sunday grunts in reply, a frown rarely gracing his face as he sulks. "How come you're so calm about this..."
Anaxa looked at him with a blank face. "I assure you, I am not as calm as I seem."
That's the biggest and fattest lie Sunday has ever witnessed, he even thought Anaxa was joking. The halovian’s expression told the other that exact line of thought, so the man gently grasped his hand before placing it right above his chest.
Sunday could feel the heavy thuds of Anaxa’s heart, beating wildly through the layers of skin and fabric under his palm. Those rhythmic heartbeats, beating so orderly yet fueled with a chaotic pace. It felt like it was ready to jump out of its own cage and straight into Sunday’s hand itself, gleefully offering him all the love it held. The owner’s piercing unshakable eyes held an unbending sheer of passion, aimed solely for the one before his gaze.
"Believe me when I say so."
"I… I see." Sunday couldn't say anything else without his voice cracking, so he simply let his hand stay limp, allowing Anaxa to do as he pleased.
The room fell into a comforting hum, lulling both lovers into a sense of serenity that no other presence could replicate. Slow, gentle caresses of Anaxa’s thumb on Sunday’s hand was the only anchor that tied their minds to the present, hearts beating in their ears before Sunday softly popped the bubble of stillness.
“... You backed away every time I got too nervous, didn’t you?”
Anaxa huffed, not ceasing his thumb before throwing a smirk his way.
“I want your heart to feel at ease when we touch. I don’t ever want it to flutter by anything else instead of desire.”
Oh, how his little heart melts. Anaxa could somehow be the most dense person in the room, yet also spout the most romantic lines that even poets would have a hard time competing with.
“Even if I wanted that kiss just as much as you do, that was exactly why I didn't dare to. But seeing as you became bolder with each attempt, I had to drag it out until you’ve grown comfortable with me. Apologies if I toy with you too much.”
Sunday huffed with exasperation. So he more or less received desensitization training just like a horse, that’s brilliant to hear. Leave it to Anaxa to find a solution during the problem even when it comes to romance.
“I don’t mind…” Sunday sighed. “It’s just– I feel like you’ve always been taking care of me even in the smallest ways. Back when we first started this relationship, I had been too anxious to ever engage in physical contact with you despite being well into the relationship, yet you were very patient with me.”
Mismatched eyes turned to inspect him closely, paying close attention to every syllable as if it were a verdict.
“I wanted to- Admittedly, I– I just… I wanted to take a step further, and… perhaps, I want more than just small touches on my hands, or face, or… areas that are… that can be seen as just— merely gestures of, perhaps, polite manners of the likes, and… and things that aren’t so…”
Sunday hesitated, before finalizing his words behind his hands.
“M-my point is that… I want to get more intimate with you.”
Anaxagoras blanked out.
Silence coveted the entire room.
Sunday slowly grew nervous the more Anaxagoras stared at him like that, wondering if he had just said something out of line.
A heavy sigh broke the room, sourcing from a suddenly very tired Anaxagoras slumped over the bed with his face buried in his hands.
“...you can’t just say that and expect me to have decorum…” He muttered into his own palm, wondering what good he had done in his past life to ever be blessed with an angel like Sunday.
“Wh- huh?”
The philosopher clarified nothing, instead sitting upright with a giggle of disbelief. He took his hands off of his hands, revealing an insanely wide smile on his face as he faced his winged beau.
”I’m sure you’ve already surmised as such… But if it’s intimacy you wish for, then I’m all for it.”
The soft carpeted floor flattened underneath his palms as he stalked forwards, crawling over to where the gray haired is sitting. With bated breath, Anaxa raised his hands to gently place them on each side of Sunday’s head, successfully pinning the blushing halovian to the edge of the bed. Towering over him, Anaxagoras watched the way his lover’s breath hitched with widened eyes.
“If you ever want to cover more than surface level material, explore more than the basics… Or just trying out whatever seems interesting...”
Tongue flicking out, his eyes stared at the halovian’s pursed lips.
“I’m your test subject.”
Sunday turned red in an instant. All six of his wings popped up from the sides of his head to pile on his face. Those feathers of fluff immediately piled onto his face, completely blocking the adorable mess of a flush he has to Anaxagoras.
“Ah.” The man himself stared blankly at the feathery sight before him. “I guess I went a little too far.”
He got a little too excited that he forgot it's basically a small step against many more. A simple and brief first kiss compared to many other steps were laughably different. It took Sunday a great amount of courage to earn them where they are now, so of course he would get embarrassed over Anaxagoras’ insinuation,
Eh, he doesn’t mind. They’ll get there eventually. For Sunday, everything is worth the wait.