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“Beautiful,” he whispers, lips tracing down the column of his throat and humming against the skin. Takahiro says nothing in response, just tightening his hold around the back of Issei’s neck and revelling in the feeling.
“So beautiful,” he says again, this time right behind Takahiro the next morning. He stares down the back of Takahiro's neck, inspecting the bruises that blossomed and disappear out of view behind the too-big t-shirt. Issei makes his way over to to him; one hand rests against the counter while the other settles around his waist, allowing him to gently kiss the marks he made. A sort of apology, but not really; he loved them. He loved leaving his evidence of love on Takahiro. He knew Takahiro would have to wear a turtleneck jumper until they healed, but for now, they were his personal galaxies.
Takahiro says nothing in response. His hand settles around the one on his waist.
Takahiro swears Issei’s eyes are astral. They’re dark, inky almost. He knows from experience how inky they are. How easy it is to get lost in them, like they’re pulling you into a black hole. It’s intense and dark and beautiful and frightening and yet so tranquil too. Calm. He's still scared - so, so scared of going under and getting lost in them, but he can't find it in himself to look away. Like a tornado, but not really; it's disastrous and yet so alluring. Just like a tornado. Where he can't physically stop the disaster, but he can stand back and watch the damage from a distance with his eyes wide open and it's so -
“You’re beautiful, ‘hiro.”
It's so beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
Takahiro is beautiful.
Galaxies are blooming on Takahiro’s neck. He presses down on one absently, fingers tracing the evidence of last night. He loves them too, though he complains only lightly about having to wear a turtleneck. He loves Issei creating galaxies on him. He loves Issei.
And he wanted to be beautiful too. Beautiful like Issei.
But what’s beautiful to an actual galaxy in someone’s eyes?
Astral. Dark. Inky. Intense. Disastrous.
Takahiro’s own galaxy will leave in time. They won’t adorn his neck anymore. But issei’s galaxies - only hidden when he sleeps - will be there for a lifetime.
And what’s a lifetime galaxy to a temporary galaxy?
“You’re - god, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he hums and he opens his eyes fully and Takahiro can feel the stars seeping their way out of his pupils. He could see each individual star in the irises and rings and -
He says nothing in response. Takahiro is beautiful. Yet, Issei has the entire galaxy residing in his eyes like they belong there.
Takahiro's galaxy fades. And Takahiro is gone before his temporary galaxies fade.
What’s beautiful compared to a galaxy? He tells himself.
While it may not rain in space, Takahiro didn't know some planets can form their own rain. He responded with doubt the first time he heard that. He never really believed some planets could form their own rain until he saw rain fall from Issei's own galaxies the day he leaves him.
He believes it now. He has no choice. He can't forget.