Archive of Our Own

Azul loves his boyfriend. Well, that shouldn’t really be so much of a shock. They’ve been together for well over a year, and Azul has had a fascination with him well before that point as well - if the expression is ‘head over heels’, then Azul has face planted and cracked his glasses at Jamil’s feet.

From the very second Jamil confessed and waited with reddened cheeks for his answer in the weeks after the Styx fiasco, Azul has only grown more utterly infatuated with him.

He’s never had someone actually like him before - that is to say, have a crush on him. Growing up, he was more familiar with other mer in his grade coming up to him saying they liked him before bursting into a fit of laughter and saying it was all a big joke, and that they’d never like someone like him.

From that point, Azul essentially gave up on the idea of someone ever having a requited interest in him. He had better things to do anyways, like cultivate his business, his magical prowess, his ability to convince others that they need his help. Even if it’s not being needed in a normal way, it’s better than being all alone - that much he’s always been certain of.

But Jamil was so intriguing, so rich in depth and desires he seemed to never voice that Azul couldn’t help it - he was absolutely smitten from day one. Yet after orientation day, sharing classes two years in a row and even after second year’s winter break, Azul convinced himself it was a guppy crush at best, and the likelihood of Jamil liking him was about as likely as Azul getting better at flying.

So imagine his surprise when Jamil not only expressed an interest in him, but insisted on proving it after Azul’s immediate skepticism - he was over the moon and gushing to the stars.

Over time, Jamil has become someone Azul can confide in, that he can trust with secrets and insecurities and ups and downs and everything in between. Azul knows he must be a handful, even if he’ll never admit it out loud - but Jamil has two hands, and they are oh so talented.

Jamil will cook and personally feed him while he’s working to make sure he’s getting meals, cradling spoons or chopsticks between his fingers and laughing when his mouth gets messy. He’ll open each button of Azul’s dress shirt one by one until he’s undressed, pointing out his favorite parts of his body and letting Azul decide how much he wants to take off.

It’s something that surprised him in the best way possible, how naturally soft and caring Jamil is. Whenever he mentions it, Jamil just says that it’s due to growing up in servitude, and while Azul thinks that’s a part of it, he fully believes that Jamil is very sweet at his core. A snake may bear its fangs, but it doesn’t long to bite.

He’s been able to enjoy a good number of his favorite foods guilt-free, and get more comfortable showing large amounts of skin to him. It started with just removing his shirt, then pants, then underwear, and by that point Jamil must’ve made it his personal mission to make Azul as flushed as possible, because by then he kissed him everywhere he could reach.

They’ve starting their third year now, a month and a half in, and Azul could not be more pleased with how things are going. He’s still housewarden (naturally), the Lounge is doing wonderfully, his relationship is perfect - what more could he want?

…well, there might be one thing, but no way is he going to ask for it. Everything is fine as it is, he doesn’t need to throw a wrench into things by suggesting something like that.

But he can’t deny it, the way the thought tends to linger sometimes. When he’s alone and bothered, and wishes Jamil were with him. When they’re making out in Azul office after hours and Jamil teases him about getting turned on so easily. He wishes he was bold enough to just ask, to throw out the suggestion of taking a step into physical intimacy and not worrying that his boyfriend might find the thought disgusting.

He knows he’s overthinking, they’ve mentioned sex in passing before and Jamil was just as open to engaging in it at some point as he’d been - but he can’t help but let his thought become a tangled mess in his head.

What if Jamil doesn’t want it to be with him? What if he’d like to be intimate at some point, but the idea of it with Azul is repulsive at worst and disappointing at best? Those thought are enough to keep the desire inside his brain and not coming out his mouth, and he’s perfectly fine with that.

Azul really should have expected at this point though that Jamil would take the initiative if he didn’t - if Jamil’s antsy enough about something, he’ll ask to satisfy his curiosity if nothing else.

It’s a typical night, a Sunday spent finishing school work for tomorrow, calling Jamil over to spend time together, and then eventually collapsing on his bed kissing. It’s something Azul’s always felt very lucky about, that Jamil seems to have about the same hormonal drive as him.

He’s always felt like his is above average, and thus something to be ashamed of despite the fact he can’t exactly control it. Jamil makes him feel normal, like he can kiss his pretty lips and twist his hair around his fingers to tug and have it all be a wonderful, exciting time.

Tonight is similar, both of them tangled up in Azul’s bed with the lights off. It’s Azul’s one request, anytime they get heated or he needs to take something off - that the lights are out so he doesn’t feel like there’s a spotlight on his form. Jamil never minds, only reminds him that he’d be just as enamored with him with or without the darkness.

With the lights out, Azul relies more on his natural instincts from living in the Coral Sea, his eyes adjusting fast to the darkness and mapping Jamil out. His hair, his eyes, his lips, hands and nose - Azul just loves it all.

And of course, being hormonal definitely helps to paint Jamil in a light that is nothing short of drop dead gorgeous. Like a siren in the ocean, like an oasis in the desert - he’s someone Azul quickly yearns to love and to kiss, as angels so deserve to be praised.

Jamil is leaning against the bed frame, Azul is between his legs that are hooked around his torso indefinitely, squeezing his hips and making him squirm with butterflies. He unbuttons the front of Azul’s shirt about halfway and splays his hands over his chest, his skin melting hot and the heels of his palms teasing up on his nipples.

Azul sighs against his lips with an open mouthed kiss, raking fingernails up his spine under his hoodie and pulling Jamil’s hair from its tie so it waterfalls over his shoulders.

Jamil is so warm, and so pretty, and so, so everything. Azul can’t seem to express it enough, either in words or in actions, just how thankful he is to have him.

They reluctantly pull apart for air, Azul’s heart thudding so hard in his chest he wouldn’t be surprised if Jamil could hear it. Conversely, Jamil is giving him a smile, lazy and content with something clearly on his mind.

“What?” Azul asks him between breaths, pulling his hand back from under Jamil’s hoodie. Jamil’s smile gets a little wider, his tone entirely insouciant despite the heaviness it harbors.

“Oh, nothing.” He shakes his head just so, his fingers tracing his collarbone. “I had a question.”

“By all means, ask away.” Azul smiles back at him with butterflies, entirely unprepared for the next sentence to come out of his mouth.

Jamil pulls him closer, wrapping an arm around his neck. From here, Azul can just barely hear the labor in his breathing, and even more so when he presses his forehead to his. “I want you to make love to me.”

Azul’s mouth completely falls open, gaping like fish as he stares at him wide eyed. He clumsily falls back on his hands, his face burning hot to the touch and his stomach doing flips. “I- that’s- you want me to-“

His eyes get as big as they possibly can (and then some), and he stares dead at Jamil for confirmation. “You want to have sex?”

Jamil’s face turns a pretty shade of crimson and his smile turns into more of an embarrassed frown. “Well, yeah. That’s what I said.”

Azul cannot believe this. He just cannot believe this. “With me?”

“Does it look like there’s anyone else in here?” Jamil huffs half heartedly before he pokes Azul in the chest. “Yes with you, you dork.”

The shock in Azul’s expression doesn’t dissipate, his demeanor goes from cool and confident to ‘oh my gosh my boyfriend wants to have sex.’ “Y-you’ve never brought this up before!”

“Well there’s only so many opportunities to tell you. I’m not just gonna blurt it out in class, or send it over text when the Asims have full rights to comb through my phone.” Jamil waves a hand before taking Azul’s hands, pulling him back. “Besides, I thought it was best to have this conversation in person.”

Azul lets himself be pulled back to Jamil, swallowing hard and weakly holding his hands. Jamil puts a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing him. “We don’t have to if you don’t have to, Zu. I was just throwing it out.”

“Well that’s the thing, I do want to.” He laughs a little, verging on awkward. How does he say this? How does he word this like a neatly written contract deal that doesn’t sound woefully insecure?

He meets his eyes again, Jamil’s glittery grey eyes staring back at him in the dark. He’s bad at hiding how he feels around Jamil. So bad. There’s always a part of his kid brain that cries that ‘lying to your love is wrong!’, and unfortunately Azul is still wholly his past self, no matter how he tries to get rid of it.

“You’re positive you want it to be with me?” Azul clarifies, trying to keep his voice from warbling into a downward spiral of insecurity. “Aren’t you a virgin?”

“Aren’t you?” Jamil reminds him. “Of course I’d want it to be with you. It’d be pretty messed up of me to ask someone else, wouldn’t it?”

“Well yes, but I would’ve thought maybe you’d prefer to take a more chaste route as long as we’re together.” He admits, his cheeks reddening shamefully. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to settle for me.“

Jamil simply moves his hand from his shoulder to his cheek, keeping Azul’s eyes on him. “Azul.”

He recognizes Jamil’s tone, and knows it’s his ‘gentle-no-nonsense’ voice. He uses it when Azul is spiraling and he wants to get something across without pushing too much that it makes him upset or shy away. It’s the perfect mix of sweet tough love that Azul has never once gone out of his way to ask for, yet Jamil has always known to offer. Azul meekly nods his head. “Yes?”

“Do you want to have sex?” He asks him clearly, waiting for Azul’s full, honest answer.

“…yes.” He half mumbles, feeling his heart pounding again. “I do.”

“And I want to too - not because I’m ‘settling’ for you,” Jamil says, giving Azul a kiss between his eyes. “But because I specifically want it to be you.”

Azul feels like he’s going to cry, from all of this patience that he doesn’t think he deserves. He pulls Jamil against his chest, hugging him so tightly Jamil has to remind him he needs air. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I’m just telling you the truth-“ Jamil coughs, patting his back. “Sevens, I forget how strong you are…”

Azul lets him go, sitting back with a sheepish smile. “Most mer are - you have to be able to keep yourself anchored in the current.”

“I like it - maybe it’ll come in handy.” Jamil grins at him, pushing blankets aside for some room before he looks to Azul for confirmation. “Do you still want to do this tonight?”

“Very much.” Azul nods. Jamil pulling off his school jacket and hoodie after getting the green light, letting Azul set the pace for how fast he wants to take clothes off.

“Wait a minute, we’re not exactly prepared.” Azul blinks, slowly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “I haven’t done any research on how to best please you, or certain positions and whatnot.”

“You know the basics, right?” Jamil eases his thoughts, as simple as breathing. He waits to take anything else off, letting Azul take his time like usual. “Between the two of us, I don’t know what other information we could possibly need that we don’t already know.”

“I don’t have any supplies, either.” Azul realizes. Jeez, is it really so easy to get carried away when you’re this horny? “Without any proper preparation, I don’t think we can-“

He looks up at Jamil as he takes his shirt off, letting it fall down his shoulders in shock when Jamil doesn’t quite meet his eye. “Jamil, if I opened the overnight bag you brought with you, would it so happen to have the items I’m referring to?”

Jamil shrugs, removing his socks with crimson cheeks. “Maybe, maybe not…”

That gets a laugh out of Azul, and he snorts and lightly shoves his shoulder. “You’re worse than I thought. How long have you been planning this?”

“I only brought it for tonight because I knew I wanted to ask you.” Jamil explains, unbuttoning his pants. “If you didn’t want to, or didn’t feel like it, I would’ve just brought it back with me.”

Azul imagines what Jamil had to do to discreetly buy these things, and he has to bite back a grin. Admittedly, the concept is rather funny to him.

A couple minutes pass, and they manage to get down to nothing. They’ve been naked in front of each other before, while changing or just laying in bed together, and yet it still feels like the first time all over again. Azul has a hard time not letting his eyes linger in one spot for too often because all of his boyfriend is gorgeous.

Jamil has a similar problem, and only after a brief period of silence does he break it, pulling Azul down between his legs so his face is just above his and his palms are pressed against the bedding, his wrists brushing Jamil’s waist.

“Are you alright doing it like this?” Jamil asks him, not entirely relaxing in case they need to swap. “We can switch if you want.”

“I’m comfortable where I am. You look excellent from this angle.” Azul teases. “And is this what you want? I know you specifically said you want me to make love to you.”

Jamil flushes and looks away. “…yes, this is what I want. But only if you’re sure that-“

“I am.” Azul cuts him off, moving his hands up to cradle his hips and feel how warm and alive his skin is under his palms. He kisses his cheek, feeling Jamil scrunch his face up under his lips. “It’s not often you let me take care of you.”

It’s true that even in private Jamil has a hard time letting himself be cared for, but Azul can nearly always tell when Jamil wants to be doted on or spooned before bed. Nothing makes him happier than getting to make Jamil as happy as he makes him.

Jamil sighs after a beat and fixes his hands around his neck. He tilts his head to kiss Azul, pulling him closer. “As long as you don’t mind.”

“Not in the slightest.” Azul says softly, kissing him back.

Jamil traces his shoulder blades, and Azul presses his thumbs lovingly into his waist - and in that moment, everything feels right as it should be.

*

The following morning, Azul is a complete, certified, 100% mess. A good mess, but a mess nonetheless.

He doesn’t exactly know what he was hoping for, but it was nothing like he’d been expecting. His brain had convinced him it’ll be a quick, done deal, then back to business as usual - which he blames both on the rigid, practical side of his brain, and on how intimacy is typically conducted in the Coral Sea.

In the ocean, safety is a massive concern no matter what type of mer you are. The ocean is vast and dark and dangerous, and there’s not nearly as much privacy. Sex isn’t so much a pleasurable pastime for couples as it’s mostly for procreation or sexual relief - it’s not nearly as sought after as it is on land, rather regarded as a part of survival. It’s not uncommon for mer married for decades to have stagnant sex lives after they’ve had children, if they decide to at all.

That’s not to say it’s never done for pleasure, but it’s just a difference between life on land and life under the sea.

And while Azul learned a lot about himself from it, what was most shocking to him was learning more about Jamil.

He learned that while Jamil isn’t particularly noisy in bed, he’ll most certainly mutter filthy things in his ear and dig his nails into his back. Azul can’t even remember everything he’d said, but it was enough to constantly warrant a stifled whine in response.

He learned that when he managed to do something Jamil really liked, his head would lull back and he’d say Azul’s name with such love and adulation with a weak smile on his face that Azul would lose all composure and bury his head into the crook of his neck.

And he learned that he was the cause for Jamil climaxing, rather than a whispered comment during school hours that he thought about Azul while taking care of it himself. Getting to press kiss after kiss against his bare skin and letting his hands wander to whichever place Jamil deemed they felt the best, his hair fanning out behind him in the mattress like late, evening sunsets until his body fell limp.

Needless to say, Azul wakes up feeling his skin prickle and his stomach flutter while he thinks of the night prior in silence, and Jamil continues sleeping on his shoulder in complete, utter bliss. It’s a little later than he’d normally sleep in on a school day, but Azul wants to let him have it - he had been the one on the receiving end most of the night, after all.

Actually, now that he really thinks about it, doing this on a school night was a terrible idea. But he knows that if he could go back in time, he wouldn’t have done it any differently (nor would he be able to turn Jamil down.)

Azul stares at the ceiling, at the blurry speckles of drywall without his glasses. It had all been wonderful. Everything he could possibly want in a first time, and more. He didn’t even think he’d have a first time, because no one would ever view him like that.

But here Jamil is, sleeping like a beautiful angel on his shoulder - and yet Azul can’t help but feel his insecurities from yesterday crawling back up his skin to remind him he doesn’t deserve good things, because he’ll always be Azul Ashengrotto. It makes his stomach shift uncomfortably, just when Jamil starts to stir.

“Ah, Jamil-“ he quickly turns on his side, moving Jamil’s long hair back over his shoulder so he can see. He watches Jamil slowly open his eyes, rubbing at them with his hands. “How did you sleep, love?”

“Good,” Jamil yawns, a smile creeping up on his face. “Especially after last night.”

Azul blushes faintly, his own smile turning smug. “That good? Are you feeling alright? Any lingering pains?”

“No.” He shakes his head, stretching out his limbs. “Just a little aching - a good aching, though. I’m not in pain.” He assures him.

“Good.” Azul nods in relief, watching him stretch. He sits up to grab his glasses, tucking them over his ears. Much of his skin is ridden with deepened hickeys or soft bite marks, and his back feels the sting of Jamil’s nails. They’re all under the collar though, and that much is a relief - he’d hate to have to answer to teasing from the twins.

Azul’s heart almost stops when he remembers the twins. Should he tell them? Can he tell them? Sure, they’ve made some off-handed jokes about him and Jamil doing things before, but they were just that - jokes.

How would they react to this? Is it going to become another in-joke? Are they going to exchange glances and think he’s weird? Probably not, but he can’t help his mind from racing.

It all feels so surreal, and ultimately he can’t really comprehend it all. The fact that he’s gone from fully believing he’d be single for his entire existence because who would even want to date him, to sitting in bed with a boy who finds himself so attracted to Azul he’d even want his first time to be with him.

Azul thinks he’s fairly below average in terms of looks - he can’t look himself in the mirror and find one thing worth noting. Maybe his beauty mark, Idia has told him it’s very ‘cutesy’ and makes him stand out - or maybe his glasses, since they make him look ‘smarter.’ But all of that just about goes out the window if he looks at himself in his entirety, at his body as a whole.

He doesn’t like looking at himself in the mirror, or in photographs - the few that are still floating about, anyways. It’s so much worse though if he’s just stepped out of the shower, or he’s changing clothes. When there’s no fabric to hide behind, nothing to make him look more appealing to the eye.

His hair is too curly, his cowlick never stays down. His hands are too bony and his eyes are too plain a shade of blue. His knees look weird if he stares long enough, and hips are slightly curvier than average. His legs are just as unsightly as his tentacles, his body has too many moles over it. The birthmark on his back is hardly worth noting, and his nose makes his face look too soft.

Azul could find one million flaws in his appearance, and that’s only going surface deep - it’s not even accounting for his personality, or his past, or his overblot or anything else. Despite hating to meet his own gaze, Azul is vain enough to stare back and critique himself down to the very blood cells in his veins.

He is absolutely, 100%, without a doubt, entirely not worth bothering with. Worth nothing more than scorn and criticism and disgusted looks. And somehow Scarabia’s vice housewarden saw something in all of that, and decided it was worth the risk to ask him out anyways.

Being called handsome, being smiled at. Being worth patience and time, effort and trust. He’s been coming to terms with it, letting Jamil’s inherent softness invade his life and hold his hands and kiss his cheeks. He supposes that this step up in their relationship has just brought it all on again, the unrealness of it all. That he’s lovable even to this degree.

“ul…zul…Azul…?”

He snaps to attention, and glances over at his boyfriend who’s migrated to the edge of the bed, grabbing his change of school clothes from his bag. He raises an eyebrow at him, an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet.”

“O-oh! My apologies, I fear I’m more tired than I thought. It was quite the workout after all.” Azul gives him a smile, hoping it’s enough of a cover as Jamil scoots over the bed to plant a kiss on his nose and ruffle his hair. “Sorry about that~”

Azul flushes a bit and reaches over to his bedside table, grabbing his clothes. “Don’t be - if anything, I should be the one apologizing for leaving you sore.”

“Mm, not if I don’t regret any of it.”

Azul gives him a halfhearted shove and pulls his clothes on, keeping his eyes on the wall instead of his lower body. He stands in front of his bathroom mirror (thank the sevens he was able to get his fellow housewardens to band together in making Crowley give them personal washrooms), brushing his teeth while Jamil pulls a hairbrush through the back of his head. He could fall back asleep from how gently he brushes his hair, pulling the brush bristles past his ears and over his bangs.

Once they’re packed and ready to leave (and sneak Jamil out as if he was never here), they give each other a once over to make sure there’s no visible evidence of last night on either of them. Azul gives him a nod, Jamil gives him a thumbs up. They part ways after the mirror chamber, and Azul slowly realizes how very, very watched he feels once his overthinking returns.

First hour mathematics is fine - he’s good at mathematics, thus why he opted for the morning class. It keeps his brain sharp early in the morning and proves his excellence over his peers that are half awake.

He feels a little sore, but that’s to be expected - he can only hope Jamil is doing alright on his end.

Second hour economics is alright, though he finds his focus waning. He finds himself constantly adjusting his collar higher, his sleeves lower. He feels like people can see it, even if that’s impossible; like they can spot the bruised marks on his collarbone and the bite marks on his chest, judging him for them.

By third hour animal linguistics he’s still holding things together, just barely - but by fourth hour phyed he’s checked out. Forget trying to improve his mediocre flying skills, Azul thinks he may as well tell Vargas he needs to go see the school nurse so he doesn’t have to be surrounded by his peers and the rampant paranoia that comes with them.

Jamil sits up out of breath from his curl-ups, looking up at Azul expectantly. “Well, we should be done with warm ups now. How many was that?”

“Huh?” Azul blinks, staring down at him from where he’s standing on Jamil’s shoes. “Ah, forgive me. I lost count.”

Jamil’s brows furrow a bit, and the concern from that morning returns. He lowers his voice, giving Azul a serious look. “Is this about last night?”

“No! Goodness no, it’s just…” Azul steps off his shoes, crossing his arms uncomfortably. “…well, maybe it has something to do with it.”

The two lag a bit behind their classmates on their way to collect their brooms, voices hushed. The last thing Azul needs is someone like Ruggie with ridiculously good hearing to pick up what they’re talking about and spread it.

“Before you bombard me with undue worry, it’s not because I regret anything.” Azul reassures him, watching Jamil’s shoulders relax. “You have my word on that.”

“What’s the matter then?” Jamil asks him, standing away from the crowd of other students grabbing their brooms. “I wouldn’t have minded switching spots with you, or-“

“N-no it’s nothing like that-! you were wonderful, I assure you,” Azul says under his breath weaving through the gaggle of students and grabbing his brooms, marked with his initials and seat number. Jamil follows suit, grabbing his and following him out to a quieter corner of the field for them to talk in peace.

They sit down and sort through their broom’s bristles, pretending they’re concentrating hard enough that Vargas won’t come over and give them an earful about not working. Jamil doesn’t let the topic go, and looks up at Azul again. “What is it then?”

Azul feels a terrible, ugly pang in his chest, the painfully familiar wash of insecurity soaking him through in something more attention-gathering than anything else he’s that day. He stops the brush of his finger over a crooked bristle, and meets Jamil’s eyes. “…Did you think I looked okay? Be honest.”

The features in Jamil’s face soften, his eyes, his nose, his lips, and nods, like it’s completely obvious. “Of course you did. You always do.”

Azul huffs and blows hair out of his face, looking back at his broom again with red cheeks. “Well that doesn’t count, you always say I look good.”

“Then you already knew my answer.” Jamil hums. He watches Azul for a bit before he says, “I thought you looked as good always - even as much as when you’re attempting to fly a foot off the ground.”

“You can’t seriously be comparing those two things!” Azul reddens, rising with broom in hand.

“I wasn’t comparing them, I was just making a point to say I think you look good no matter what you’re doing.” Jamil teases, Azul too busy focusing on his broom to catch the sincerity in his face.

Lunch comes and goes after phyed, as do the rest of his classes. Azul finds that they’re not nearly as stressful as the others, and that brings him great peace - especially because he has a restaurant to run. Jamil’s words have that effect, helping to lessen the burden of his thoughts.

He ends his night sending Jamil a message to get some rest, and let him know how his body feels tomorrow. Jamil makes a comment about Azul worrying too much, but agrees nonetheless. He sends him a sweet message, showering him in compliments; Azul has to bury his face in his pillows from the embarrassment.

He ends up finding sleep relatively quick, curled up in a ball under the covers to imitate the dark lull of the sea - and despite being freshly washed, his bed still smells of Jamil. Azul drifts off with his chest feeling full, ever so thankful for his boyfriend and all that he does.

He thinks about the night prior again, and gets butterflies. He truly cannot believe how lucky he is to have Jamil, even like this.

-

It’s two weeks later when the topic of intimacy comes up again. Azul is sitting on the edge of his bed with Jamil caging him in, a knee between his legs and his warm palms on his thighs.

Azul fumbles with his glasses to pull them off his face, gently tossing them aside on his bed. They always seem to get in the way of kissing, and end up smudged one way or another. It almost makes him want to invest in contact lenses, just so he can still see Jamil properly down to the individual strands of his hair. He supposes he’ll have to settle for this for now though.

Jamil pushes his knee further against him, and Azul has to bite the inside of his mouth to not make any sort of embarrassing noise. Jamil is able to pick up on it though regardless, and lets his thumbs dip down to the inside of his thighs.

A smile tugs on Jamil’s lips, unworried and pleasant. Azul feels like he’s getting deja vu, though he can’t recall how, exactly - his whole body is buzzing with hormones.

“How do you feel about having sex tonight?” Jamil asks with a squeeze to his leg and an eager look. Azul’s face explodes in red in a matter of seconds.

“A-Again?” He asks, dumbfounded. The way Jamil is looking at him makes his stomach all fluttery and he while he cannot think straight, he most certainly has enough of his wits about him to be utterly baffled that Jamil liked the first time enough to want to do it again.

“Yeah.” He nods, easing the pressure of his hands and knee. “Sorry, I guess we haven’t talked about doing it again, and-“

“Wait wait wait, hold on a minute.” Azul shakes his head adamantly, putting his hands on Jamil’s shoulders, like he’s worried he’ll pull away entirely. “I do want to, I mean, I loved the first time, I’m just…surprised, is all.”

Jamil blinks and pensively scrunches his brows together before he’s able to piece together what Azul is just shy of saying, taking a seat beside him on the bed and pulling him into his side. “Sometimes I wish I could Snake Whisper your overthinking away, ZuZu.”

“Believe me, I wish that was an option.” Azul sighs, looking at his lap. Why couldn’t he just believe him? Believe that his boyfriend wasn’t put off the first time and absolutely wants to do it again? He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to keep ruining these moments. It’s just…hard. Reminding myself that you, well. Like me, even sexually.”

“You’ve been getting better.” Jamil reminds him, rubbing his side. “Remember when we first started? You wouldn’t even change in front of me.” He reminds him, leaning forward to look directly at Azul and catch the pink in his cheeks. “Now you’ll even make a show out of it.”

“Oh stop, that’s only sometimes.” He laughs, smirking at him. “And as far as I can tell, you certainly love the display.”

“Because I love you.” He says simply, and it makes Azul feel so incredibly soft. It’s nothing elaborate, or flashy, or anything of the sort - it’s not really either of their styles anyways. It’s stated like of the most obvious, natural things in the world, that he likes him. Azul didn’t even realize Jamil was reaching to touch his heart until his veins started to thrum with something more tender.

It’s true, that Azul wouldn’t let Jamil see any more of his skin than necessary when they started dating - he recalls countless nights he spend lying awake in bed next to Jamil, uncomfortably hot because he refused to take anything off to alleviate the discomfort.

Jamil always noticed when he was doing it, and reminded him time and time again that there couldn’t possibly be anything underneath his clothes that would make him view Azul any different; yet time and time again, Azul struggled even just to change from one shirt to another with him in the same room.

It all came to a head when Jamil walked in on him changing, and Azul had a complete meltdown over it. The way he saw it, now that Jamil had seen him, there was no way to pretend he hadn’t.

But instead of disgust or asking to break up, Jamil just told him again and again that everything was fine, and that he didn’t have anything he needed to worry about, pressing kisses into his shoulder.

From there he gradually got more comfortable with letting Jamil see him bare - either by changing, or letting him take his shirt off while kissing. Now, Jamil has seen all of him, and it doesn’t always come with the same violent wave of fear as it used to. He actually quite enjoys the feeling of his bare skin pressed against his, his palms on his back or his hair or his chest.

He still always requests the lights to be off, because it doesn’t make him stress as much - a comforting reminder of the ocean back home, and such.

Jamil has always been patient with him, even when Azul thinks he deserves otherwise. Being reminded that Jamil likes him like this, like that, in every way and every form, makes his chest blossom and his abdomen subsequently pool with heat.

“You’re much sappier than I thought.” Azul teases. “I trust you won’t leave me hanging then?”

Jamil rolls his eyes fondly, pushing back to sit in the center of the bed. “I’ll try.”

Jamil lures him by the back of his head for a kiss, and Azul meets him halfway. His heart is thudding and like before, his worries set aside in favor of basking in the warmth and the heat and the love with which Jamil twirls his hair between his fingers.

Much like the first time, his clothes get thrown best they can into the hamper, and Jamil matches his pace to undress. The second Azul sets his glasses somewhere safer and takes off the last of his undergarments, Jamil pulls him around his neck and down with him.

He’s uncomfortably turned on, but that’s what makes it more exciting - raking hands down Jamil’s sides and feeling his body stutter, letting him run nails up his scalp in return and tug sharply at silver curls. He’s soon reduced to scarlet cheeks and pleased laughter, and from what he can tell in the dark, Jamil matches him to a T.

Jamil’s breathing grows labored and one of his hands cups his cheek with the slightest tremble. His lips part into a soft grin, shiny and his lipstick mussed. “I’m waiting.”

Azul takes one of his legs and lifts it over his shoulder, delighting in the soft, shaky breath Jamil exhales. He kisses his skin, just below his knee, maintaining eye contact. Oh how he adores this boy. “Allow me to make it up to you then~”

*

Azul’s chest rises and falls with big, heavy breaths, just shy of being too short to entirely fill his lungs. Part of it is being completely tuckered out, and the other is because he has another human being laying on him. Either way, he makes no motion to remove Jamil from his position, keeping a hand on his back and lazily running it alongside his spine.

His skin feels clammy and sticky, his bangs pressed messily to his forehead. Jamil is the same, if not worse - his long hair gives the slightest bit of resistance when Azul brushes it over his shoulder, strands sticking to his back. His eyes are closed and the air from his nose hits his chest, legs half covered by a blanket. Azul thinks he looks rather cute, all things considered.

It had been notably rougher than the first time, and that was equal parts the more practiced they were and Jamil’s request. Azul certainly didn’t mind fulfilling his wishes - after all, what is he good at if not granting other’s desires? And he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the fact that when he does as Jamil asks, he soon after melts back into the sheets and shield his face.

His body feels tingly again at the thought, just as Jamil pushes himself up on his palms, sitting next to Azul on the bed instead. He yawns, pushing his hair back over his shoulders and grimaces at the reminder of how dirty his hands are. “I’m gonna take a shower. Do you want to come?”

Azul nods, sitting up next to him. “I do. I can grab towels if you want to go turn on the water - if your legs don’t feel too weak to walk.”

Jamil gives him an eye roll, his cheeks warmer as he swings his legs over the bed and stands up. “I’m not that sore, I can walk to the washroom just fi-“

He stumbles the second he rises to his feet, turning to glare at Azul with red cheeks.  “Not a word.”

Azul puts his hands up in defense with an overly pleased smile. “And not a syllable shall leave my lips.”

Jamil heads to the connected washroom, turning the light and fan on before the water starts to hum. Azul focuses on grabbing towels and a change of clothes, pulling Jamil’s extra set from his dresser and knocking once on the bathroom door to tell Jamil he’s coming in.

He turns the bathroom light out and sets the pile of clothes on the counter, turning on the night light shaped like a blue tang (a Floyd gift) so it’s not pitch black. It’s more so a courtesy for Jamil because Azul’s eyes are well adjusted to the dark, though he does get a kick out of watching Jamil squint and try to figure out what’s what.

“You can check the water temp - I know you don’t like it super hot, so I left it somewhere in the middle.” Jamil says. Azul runs his hands under the water before immediately pulling his hand away, turning it colder. “My love, I would boil in that water. I’ll never understand why so many humans prefer to bathe in scalding water.”

“Because not all of us grew up in the ocean, Zu.” Jamil hums, snaking his arms around him from behind. It feels oddly domestic, the way he rests his chin on his shoulder and waits for Azul to adjust the temperature. Azul blushes and reaches back to affectionately pat the side of his head. “The appeal still eludes me.”

He steps under the water, letting it spill over his head and down his shoulders. He doesn’t bother closing his eyes, since it doesn’t bother him anyways - and it gives him the most adorable view of Jamil scrunching his face up. Azul takes the opportunity to kiss his temple and watch his face blossom red.

“You can do your hair first - it won’t take as long as mine.” Jamil says once he’s rubbed the water from his eyes, muffling a yawn with his hand.

Azul shakes his head fondly, tucking Jamil’s hair behind his ears and smoothing his long bang out of his eye. “I’d prefer doing yours first.”

“It’s going to take me twice as long, but if you say so.” Jamil shrugs and pulls his hands through his hair, from his scalp down to his waist, squeezing out the excess water.  Just as he tries to reach for the shampoo bottle on the shelf, Azul intercepts his hand and kisses his knuckles. “I don’t think you heard me correctly - I will do it for you.”

Jamil pauses, pressing his lips together and looking conflicted. “I can do it myself, you know.”

“Oh I know you can, but I want to do it for you.” Azul says, pressing another kiss to his hand. Jamil’s face remains pensive, like he’s torn between giving in and refusing.

He takes his hand away, crossing them both and leans against the back wall of the shower, letting the water hit his chest. “You already did more than enough for me earlier, the least I can do is wash my own hair.”

Azul’s brows press together in concern. “Is this about your preference when we’re intimate?”

Judging by the way Jamil doesn’t meet his eye and slinks further into the shadows of the wall, he knows he’s guessed correctly.

Jamil has a hard time letting himself be taken care of, in any context. Whether it’s Azul offering to cook for him, or look over him when he’s sick, or dry his tears when he’s crying, he always needs to be doing something in return.

Gathering ingredients, taking his own temperature, grabbing his own tissues - it’s an unbreakable habit from years of servitude for another person. Jamil’s needs are second, and everyone else’s are first. That’s the way it’s always been.

Azul had been overjoyed to spoil Jamil the two times they’d slept together - to fulfill his requests of ‘faster’, ‘right there’, ‘more, more, more’. He gets to see Jamil more relaxed, less reserved with his expressions, and displaying every shade of flustered possible.

He likes getting to hold him after, making sure he’s alright and seeing the satisfied smile on his face afterwards. He only wishes Jamil didn’t reprimand himself for enjoying it all when it’s such a human thing to do.

“You know I don’t mind, right? If that’s what you like, you don’t have to be sorry for it.” Azul says, pressing a hand to his chest and giving him a kiss. “And it wouldn’t be very benevolent of me to leave you to do your own aftercare, now would it?”

Jamil huffs, turning his head with flushed cheeks. Azul knows he’s winning, just from the way his hands lower from being guarded over his chest. “Zul.”

“I can do your hair exactly how you like it. And I have that soap you just adore, the nice floral one?” Azul plants a kiss on the corner of his lips, and then on his cheek. “Then you can get dried off, I’ll switch the bed covers, and we’ll fall right asleep. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Jamil is somehow redder than he’d been earlier in the night, pulling back from Azul barrage of kisses. “Okay, okay, fine, you can do my hair! But I’m more than capable of taking care of myself after our shower.”

“Let me cuddle you tonight and we have a deal.” Azul smiles all business-like, and Jamil gently shoves him by the shoulder. He presses his face into his neck, his head under Azul’s chin. His arms quickly snake around his back, and he teasingly pinches his back, “Fine, whatever. I can’t stop you from being clingy anyways.”

Azul massages shampoo into his scalp, delighting in the way Jamil further buries his face into the crook of his neck to keep soap from his eyes.

When he asks him to hold his head up to rinse it all out, Jamil’s skin glints from the water and his eyelashes fall heavy. Azul tucks some hair stuck to his forehead out of the way and lovingly rubs his scalp.

Jamil knows all of his struggles, the same way Azul knows his - it always feels like an uphill battle reaching for the things that they want when either themselves or society at large are pulling them back by their teeth.

Being scared of being perceived, wanting to be perceived but never having been allowed to shine. Ashamed of his body, ashamed of his wants and needs.

To be loved is to be seen - that’s how the saying goes, he thinks. And to be seen is to be understood. Even the ugly parts, even the things that are hard to look at or difficult to talk about. Even the forgettables and the seconds between hours.

Their relationship moves one day at a time, but it’s another day of understanding. Another day of sharing the good and the bad and the in between and deciding that all of it is more than enough, and that there’s no mountain too big that the both of them can’t conquer.

Jamil seems content once they’re out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and tiredly brushing his teeth in the mirror alongside Azul. He reluctantly lets Azul rub lotion into his skin (despite his earlier insistence that he can do it himself), and lovingly brush his hair out once they’re back in bed again.

As promised, Azul wraps himself around him, face pressed into Jamil’s chest and the warm scent of his hoodie. He keeps a hand on his back under his shirt, and kissing him goodnight. “Let me know how you’re feeling in the morning.”

Jamil nods, kissing him back. “I will - and you too. Goodnight, Zu.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

Azul’s close to falling asleep when Jamil mumbles something against his head, his lips warm in his hair. “Thank you.”

Azul doesn’t have to ask to know what he’s thanking him for, and he smiles and holds him tighter. “Of course.”

-

“Dude, I cannot believe you.”

Azul watches Idia shuffle their card deck closely, making sure he doesn’t cheat. He knows from his last two years in the board game club with Idia that he wouldn’t, but it doesn’t stop him from boring holes into the cards for foul play. “For the fifth and final time, it was not my fault you found out that Jamil and I have been-“

“EW! UGH! GROSS!” Idia immediately cuts him off, slamming the deck down on the table to quickly cover his ears. “Don’t even say it! I’m going on DND for the rest of this meeting!”

Azul can only give him an unamused look while he takes the deck and takes his five cards, giving Idia five as well. He makes sure to do so slowly, so Idia doesn’t accuse him of foul play either - just a natural habit for them both at this point.

The end of the first school semester has come around, and all of the fourth years are back for the week before the next semester at their internships. From what Azul had gathered, they were all required to stop by their previous clubs for a day (‘in person’, Idia had snarked) and give pointers to the new arrivals as veterans of their clubs.

Thankfully for Idia, the board game club was more of a ‘come if you feel like it, don’t if you don’t’ sort of club, and the vast majority of students in it were introverts almost on par with Idia himself. Thus, Idia was able to avoid having extra human interactions, and only have to visit the club for one day and get Azul to be his verification that he was actually there.

Idia had been relieved Azul was the only person in the club room that day, and not a massive gaggle of people - and Azul was more than eager to ask him questions about his internship to hopefully gain some perspective on how they run, and if there are things he should try to avoid.

Unfortunately for Azul though, he made the mistake of leaving his school bag unzipped on the open seat at their table, and Idia managed to catch sight of the raunchy note Jamil stuck to one of his notebooks.

It was no doubt supposed to be something meant for Azul’s eyed only, an invitation to spend the night in Jamil’s room while his roommate was gone for a family vacation. Truly a shame that Idia managed to see it before Azul did, because now it’s associated with the high pitched scream of Idia after he read it.

Idia is the third person to find out about this aspect of his and Jamil’s relationship, after Jade and Floyd. Azul has no real idea as to how they found out (he and Jamil soundproof the walls every time anyways), but Floyd ended up whining to him about it when he came to watch one of Jamil’s basketball games, and neither him nor Jade agreed to tell him how they knew.

He really shouldn’t be surprised, it’s Floyd and Jade after all - he was pretty much just delaying the inevitable. And of course, they weren’t put off or disgusted with him like he’d feared. Now they just give him a telling look when Jamil drops by the Lounge after hours and leave it at that.

Idia finding out though could’ve been prevented - now he has to deal with his over the top complaining.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic? You have a boyfriend now, don’t you? Surely this sort of thing shouldn’t be that shocking to you.” Azul reminds him, flipping the top card on the deck over, showing a two of hearts. He frowns, sorting through his cards. He hates games of chance, and Crazy Eights might just be the worst - but he had been the one to let Idia choose a game, and Idia loves to troll.

“Silver’s like, the furthest thing from dirty minded - he’s literally an anime prince.” Idia points out, snatching up his cards and putting down a four of hearts.

“I was more so referring to you.” Azul corrects, putting down a four of spades. “You have entire shelves of R18+ mangas in your room.”

Idia wrinkles his nose, glaring at him. “First of all, you should be lucky I let you in my room at all - normies like you are the reason I don’t. Second of all, I don’t shelve them! They’re properly hidden like every gold-tier otaku knows to do. And for the record, most of them aren’t hentai for the sake of hentai - they’re tasteful works of art!”

Azul gives him a long, slow blink, pinching his brow. “Right, and I’m the pervert here for doing normal romantic activities with my boyfriend.”

“Uh, don’t even try to play that card - it’s pretty obv Jamil-shi wants you to obliterate him later.” Idia puts down another card, king of spades. “It was like, PWP fanfic level crazy.”

Azul blushes further, taking a card, and then two, and three. Idia grins a stupid toothy grin while he watches him finally put down an eight and declare diamonds. He stays quiet for a bit, watching Idia put down a seven of diamonds, and he himself putting down a seven of clubs.

He bumps the back of his shoe against one of the chair legs, something stirring in the back of his mind. He knows Idia’s not being serious, but it still makes his thoughts run unnecessarily. He wants to put his head down on the table and scream - why must he be like this?

In complete truth, he’s very much looking forward to seeing his boyfriend tonight - he hasn’t been nearly as self conscious about the matter since last time, and the idea of another fun night was initially very exciting. It just goes to show how easily he second guesses himself, even if everything is seemingly going fine - he can’t help but soak up the supposed opinions of others.

It’d been the main catalyst behind his decision to not bring up the topic of intimacy in the first place; he was worried about Jamil’s response, even though deep down he knew they felt the same way about it. It’s something he wanted to share with Jamil, but was never quite able to get over his nerves to ask for.

As much as it’s embarrassing to admit, he’s always bit a hopeless romantic - being quick to see any gestures of kindness as romance, until his previous classmates made it abundantly clear they felt no such things for him.

He remembers as a child being read stories to fall asleep by his mama, and adoring the grand, frilly fairytales of true love and whatnot. A vast majority of lucky coin wishes, eyelash wishes, or shooting stars above the ocean’s surface were for some god out there to send him someone sweet, someone who doesn’t make fun of his ink-spewing and who loves him enough to stick around.

The twins used to tease him about it all the time (and still do) - even to the point that they’d make the same wish themselves, just because they found it entertaining. Azul first remembers when Jade and Floyd found out he was dating Jamil, how after months of painfully obvious pining (winter break) Jade made the comment that his wish finally came true.

And Azul, ultimately still that child deep inside, went back to his room and sobbed about it, because his silly little childhood wish had come true.

Maybe that’s why he and Jamil fit so well together, why the gaps of his hands seem to fit seamlessly against his. Why Jamil’s skin is always warm, and Azul’s always runs cold. Why he gets this homey feeling when they’re alone together, like he’s coming back to something he always longed for.

Thus, he’s had no shortage of romantic fantasies or daydreams about him wherever he goes. ‘Would Jamil like this perfume?’ ‘These flowers would look nice in his hair.’ ‘This restaurant runs a couple’s deal on Valentine’s Day - maybe we should go…’

He sees Jamil in everything, and it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world, actually being able to tell him these things, over text or before bed.

And as time went on, he couldn’t help but have even more desires and feelings about him. More emotionally charged, more hormonal - a taller and taller order that Azul didn’t dare ask of him.

How Jamil puts his hair up, or takes something off. How he kisses him and tells Azul to relax in a whisper by his ear. How he looks at him after making out, idly brushing through his hair with a satisfied smile.

Or, heavens forbid he praises him. Tells him he did something good, or compliments him, or something of the like. Azul can never take it, always being reduced to a thorough mess.

Having these thoughts, these desires and now being able to share them with Jamil free of judgement or disgust - it’s exhilarating, only just stopped short by the typical restraints he puts on himself, these worries that others somehow know and think he’s undeserving of them.

Idia waves a hand in front of his face, a petrified look etched into his own. “Uh, Twisted Wonderland to Azul-shi? R u still online?”

Azul blinks, guarding his cards closer to his chest. “Yes, I am.”

“Okay, cuz I just went and you didn’t even like flip the table or anything.” Idia points out, tapping his finger over the singular card left in his hand. Azul frowns, looking through his cards for what he could put down next. Idia had put down a five of clubs, and while he could put down one of his club suit cards, he doesn’t know what Idia has in his deck. Not that he has much of a choice, because all Azul has are clubs.

He sighs, puts the card down and sits back in his seat with folded arms, watching Idia take his victory by throwing down his jack of clubs and throwing his arms up.

“And that’s how you do it. GG, Azul-shi.” Idia giggles, collecting the cards to reshuffle and put away.

“GG, Idia.” Azul says, internally cringing at the phrase. He doesn’t know how Idia says these things unironically.

Idia grabs Azul’s pile of cards, his smile slowly starting to drop when he sees that Azul’s face hasn’t shifted. “Uh, r u that mad about the win? We can play again if you want. I know you hate games of chance, but you’re literally one of the SSR troublemakers - you’ve got mega-high stats in calculation, you’d prob stand a chance.”

“I’m quite alright - there’s only ten minutes longer of club, anyways.” Azul waves a hand, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Idia’s awkwardness starts to show, immediately shrinking back into his seat when Azul doesn’t take the bait or make a snarky remark at him. “Uh, is this about me seeing Jamil-shi’snote? I prom I’m not gonna tell anyone - like, cmon. Who would I even have to tell? I’m not gonna traumatize Sil with that.”

Azul takes the deck from him and puts it away, shaking his head. “Normally, I’d have you sign an NDA, but you are correct - I can’t see you telling anyone about this.”

Idia watches in silence, growing antsy in his seat. “I’m gonna regret asking this, but what’s the deal then?” Idia asks before giving a lopsided, nervous grin. “I don’t actually care that you and Jamil-shi are going at it - I was just like, ‘WUT? Azul-shi, you’re one of the introverts! I can’t believe you’d be sword-fighting on the reg!’ …yk?”

Azul stops after he closes the card box and looks up at Idia, who’s timidly siting back in his chair. Azul can’t help it and covers his face under his glasses, his shoulders shaking with laughter. All of his nerves and worries quickly melt away, gone with the hilarity of it all. He can’t stay serious after that. “Idia, you may very well have the most colorful vocabulary of anyone I know - and I’ve known Floyd since middle school.”

“You thought that was funny?” Idia asks, wide eyed. “You confuse me, like, a lot.”

After Azul’s laughing fit dies down, he takes his glasses off to clean them of potential smudges, and Idia takes out his phone to play a rhythm game as a distraction. “So uh, just for confirmation - you’re not mad at me, right?”

“No, I’m not mad at you.” Azul shakes his head. “It’s just a…delicate subject, is all. I think you can hardly blame me - imagine if I went through your’s and Silver’s text logs and brought those up?”

Idia’s face drops comically and his face reddens. Azul smirks, raising his eyebrows. “Hm, so I was right after all. What was it you said? That Silver is the furthest thing from dirty minded? Perhaps you’ve rubbed off on him.”

“Ughhhhh, don’t say it like that!” Idia whines, tapping colorful panels on his screen. “I didn’t mean he’s like, totally innocent or whatever - he’s not a fanon sunshine-type character. It’s just not something we bring up a lot - especially since I think his dad would like, murder me if we did anything like that.”

“Lucky you, to date the one person on campus whose father also attends the school.” Azul chirps, and Idia gives him an eye roll. “Ya, well, at least we’re gone for internships most of the year. That way I don’t have to face the embarrassment of seeing him IRL. Lilia-Shi has already come up to me before saying some scary things if I ever hurt Sil’s feelings…”

“Well I can sympathize with you in that regard. Ever since Kalim found out that I’ve been dating Jamil, he’s been watching me like a killer whale.” Azul shakes his head.

“Isn’t the expression ‘watching u like a hawk?” Idia corrects him.

“What’s a hawk?”

“Forget it.”

“I know Kalim’s protective of Jamil, but you’d think I’ve down something just deplorable to Jamil with the way he glares at me.” Azul sighs. “He never brings Jamil into it, because I’m sure he knows Jamil would give him an earful about it if he knew, but that doesn’t make it any less of a headache.”

“Kalim-shi is glaring at you?” Idia asks before he lets out an evil laugh. “LOL, imagine getting the nicest character in the cast to hate u.”

“He doesn’t hate me, he’s just overly protective. Regardless of their current strained relationship, they grew up together, so they’re both scarily codependent on the other.” Azul explains before he huffs out a laugh. “You should have seen Jamil’s face when he found out Kalim had been bringing Ruggie over with his knowledge.”

“Oh I bet Jamil-shi hated that.” Idia snorts, pumping his fist when he clears the level with a full combo. “LMAO.”

“I have never felt so much solidarity with a hyena before, I will tell you that.” Azul says and puts his glasses back on his face.

Idia plays two more stages until it’s time to leave, and Azul gets to ask him a bit about his internship - Idia tells him that he gets to make some of the designs for the Olympos search engine page, and for Ortho’s birthday week he modeled it after his gear.

After Idia clears his last stage he gets up, stretching to his full height of six feet before he slouches back over again. “Well, it’s been real. I only lost maybe 5% of social battery, and I can skirt past the headmage’s quest easy peasy.”

“It was good seeing you again as well - tell Ortho I say hi.” Azul nods, grabbing his (zipped) bag and turning the lights off on their way out.

Before Idia turns the corner to take his usual ‘least-human-interaction-possible’ route back to Ignihyde, he grins and waves to Azul. “Ya, sure, I will. Tell Jamil-shi I said hi too.”

Azul flushes and heads the opposite way down the hall, away from Idia and his cackling.

-

“Ja-miiiil~” Azul hums, standing outside his room. He knocks, and waits with his hands behind his back, keeping his voice quiet so no one accidentally overhears. “I’m here, as per your salacious request.”

The door is open in a matter of seconds, the lights already out. Jamil is smiling and leaning on the door, his hair down from its ponytail. Azul instantly gets butterflies. “Did you find something in your bag?”

“Did I ever.” Azul laughs, and decides against telling Jamil now that Idia actually saw it first - there’s nothing he can think of that might kill the mood faster. He walks in and sheds his school jacket over Jamil’s desk chair, Jamil soon joining him on the bed.

He falls into the space beside him, arms falling loosely around Azul’s torso and giving him a passionate kiss. It makes Azul’s glasses slide further up his nose, the plastic creaking against his skin. Jamil snorts when Azul has to pull away to take them off.

They resume soon after, and it’s just like usual - a slow built up to the main event, to savor the moment and make each other more eager to get started. Jamil tips his head to the right and kisses him again, gentler this time. “Feeling alright tonight?”

Azul smiles, making out the blurry grey of his eyes. “Quite.” He gives him a short kiss after, squeezing his arm. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jamil says and without a warning, moves him back on the bed by his sides. Azul gives only an undignified yelp before Jamil leans over him, hoisting both of Azul’s legs up over one shoulder. He keeps a hand behind his knees, snaking around his legs to keep them suspended in the air.

Azul feels a sharp flutter run through his chest and then down to his groin. He giggles, bringing a hand to the side of Jamil’s face. “Well if this is how the night is going, I have no complaints to make~”

Jamil’s expression wavers for a moment, his face going blank before he immediately resumes as if it’d never happened. “Whatever makes this spoiled prince happy~”

Azul quirks an eyebrow, moving his hand to Jamil’s chest. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Jamil asks smoothly, casually. Azul almost wants to roll his eyes - he really thinks he can pull the wool over his eyes of all people?

“Your face. You looked hesitant.” Azul tells him. Jamil doesn’t meet his eye and instead kisses the side of Azul’s leg. “Mm, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jamil, you must know by now it’s futile to try and lie to me.” He coos, switching tactics. If immediate facts don’t break him down, usually a fair amount of sweet talk will. He moves both his hands to his shoulders, squeezing the fabric. “What is it, my love?”

Jamil frowns so heavily Azul deems it a pout, and Jamil Viper never pouts (a travesty, really.) His cheeks redden and he slowly lowers Azul’s legs, letting him move them as he pleases. Azul chooses to move them on either side of Jamil, and pull him on top of him, a slow tug of his fingers and a lazy line down his back, and Jamil’s face is burning hot against his chest. “It’s nothing, really.”

“And yet I have two eyes that can see and ears that can hear - and what I am seeing and hearing is that it is most certainly not nothing.” Azul plays with his hair, twirling it between his fingers. He knows Jamil loves when he does so.

Jamil doesn’t lift his face up, his voice muffled against Azul’s vest. His voice comes out more defeated and shameful than Azul reckons he meant for it to sound. “How do you feel about me being on the receiving end every time? Do you mind it, I mean.”

Something heavy and melancholic weighs on Azul’s heart from the way Jamil asks him - heartbroken for the fact that Jamil sounds so unlike himself, and because he’s felt this way so many times before. Guilty and tired and sorry for seemingly ordinary things that aren’t supposed to beget apologies.

Azul rubs the side of his head, not making him look at him. Whenever Jamil’s pushed the point he needs a heart to heart, he always has trouble showing his face or making eye contact - for any emotion other than ones he’s been taught are ‘typical’ for someone in his position, really.

“Not at all. If anything, I prefer being on top - I don’t feel as self aware when I can focus on you, if that makes sense.” He explains, his cheeks warming up with a smile. “And I get to spoil you, which I do so enjoy.”

Jamil lowers his head more, if even possible. One of his hands is holding the covers, and his fingers tighten around it. He says something barely inaudible, and Azul has to strain to anything up. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Jamil’s nails dig harder into the blue fabric, his voice barely loud enough to make out. “I just feel like it’s asking too much. I mean, every time you let me have that spot because, well, that’s what I like, but then afterwards you want to do even more for me, and I feel like I’m not doing enough. It feels different asking during sex because, I don’t know, it’s not as serious? Like if I ask you for something, we’re just having a good time and there’s no reason to overthink it. But then afterwards it just feels like making you do even more work, and it’s like-“

He makes a bit of a frustrated sound again Azul’s chest. “I don’t know. I appreciate everything you do for me when we’re like that, I really do, but I don’t think I’m pulling my weight enough to make it fair.”

After his rant Jamil sighs, his body flattening with the expended air. “This is so stupid. I don’t know why I’m getting worked up about this.”

“Now now, enough of that. It’s not stupid.” Azul traces lines on his scalp. “Can you explain what triggered it tonight? So I can understand better?”

“I was overthinking the note, since it was, y’know, something I wanted you to do to me. Then you said you wouldn’t mind the night going ‘that way’, and I thought you meant us switching, and I figured I should just do it because it’ll feel less uneven, and-“

Jamil pushes himself up off of Azul and lays facing away from him, still covering his face. Azul hears the shaky breath he takes when he does, and his heart breaks more upon realizing he’s crying.

Azul sits up, setting a hand on his shoulder and softening his voice. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

Jamil gives one nod in response, wiping at his face and letting Azul rest against his back, wrapping his arms around to his stomach. “I can promise you you’ve been doing more than enough, both outside and within our intimacy. And I don’t want you to ever think you have to do something like that just to make things ‘fair.’”

He pulls Jamil’s fallen hair back behind his ear, and kisses the side of his head. “Just because you’re on the receiving end doesn’t mean you’re not doing your share. I won’t go into detail, but between your words and your actions, you always make me feel just as good as you do. And outside of our sex life, you’re always helping me - making me food, taking me out for a break from work, taste testing menu items for me.”

He gives Jamil a squeeze, idly grazing his hands over his torso. “I know it’s hard to believe, but you work very hard, Jamil. And I very much enjoy getting to take care of you, and not once have I felt you weren’t doing enough.” Azul raises his head up to kiss the back of his head, voice light. “I love you, after all.”

Even though Jamil doesn’t make a sound, Azul can feel him choking back a sob, his body shaking. Azul has seen enough of Jamil to know how to care for him when he’s upset, and he uses a hand to stroke his hair and mumble strings of pleasant musings. Azul feels that Jamil deserves and needs to be sweet-talked to sometimes, to take away from the burden of constantly being treated like he needs to hold the world and its ugliness.

The world has not been kind to Jamil Viper, nor has it been to Azul Ashengrotto - it’s how their overblots happened in the first place. But maybe healing starts like this, with holding both broken pieces together and letting flowers bloom between the blood-dried cracks. With those seconds between hours, the seeming forgettable moments.

“Let’s take a rain check for tonight - I’d be more than happy to indulge you another night when you’re feeling better, okay?” Azul hums, squeezing his shoulder. “Can you look at me, my love?”

That gets a little laugh out of Jamil, something half-hearted and watery. He turns over, still half covering his tear-stained face. “You’re such a sap, do you know that? You sound like you’re from a rom-com or something.”

“It got you to turn around, didn’t it?” Azul smiles, pulling Jamil’s hands off to cup his cheeks. He leans in to give him a kiss and brush his nose against his. “So I could see this beautiful boy again-”

“Oh my gosh, Zu, shut up!” Jamil snorts, giving him a partial shove before he settles again him, the silence only interrupted by his occasional sniffling.

“Sorry we had to cancel our plans tonight.” He says, rubbing his thumb against the back of Azul’s neck. “But, thanks for understanding too.”

“Of course,” Azul says gently, kissing his temple. “You would do the same for me.” He pulls back, giving him a smile. “How does a quiet night in sound as a substitute?”

Jamil gives him a kiss back, and makes himself right at home. “Like you read my mind.”

-

It’s been a few months, and intimacy has slowly become something that Azul doesn’t find himself fretting over himself as often over, or Jamil feeling like he’s not doing enough for.

Every so often he may ask for reassurance, the same as Jamil might mumble a question if Azul truly doesn’t mind doing things for him.

Like the rest of their relationship, the common theme between them (as Azul has noticed), is to meet each other halfway. Jamil will shower him with adulation, to praise him for the way he kisses, the way he moans, the way he dips his head when he’s close.

Azul will indulge his every whim, spoiling him as much as he’ll allow. If Jamil moves his hands to his hips, he’ll hold them. If his legs are shaky, Azul will move them somewhere less strenuous. If his hair starts to get in the way, Azul will take a hair tie from the nightstand and tie it up in a bun or a high ponytail for him instead.

It makes the entire experience that much sweeter, that much better when they’re both tailoring to each other without remorse. Even if there’s awkward moments (like one night when he wasn’t able to get Jamil even remotely close, no matter what they did), it doesn’t make them feel ashamed, or humiliated. It only makes Azul want to bend down and kiss Jamil and his beautiful body until he’s grinning ear to ear and telling Azul to stop.

And that’s how they’ve gotten here - Azul just having told Jamil to come around his room later in the night when he’s not busy. It’s technically the first time Azul has been the initiator for sex, which he really wants to kick himself for, but there’s only so much he can do about it now.

Jamil has told him previously he doesn’t mind asking, because it’s usually not an explicit question - more like equal pairs of bedroom before they scramble to lock the door behind them. But Azul asked him plain and simple, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic - its a long weekend because the second semester has ended, he’s gone out of the way to set up something special for Jamil, and he’s managed to overcome one of his biggest (albeit, embarrassing) fears. He ends up grinning to himself like a maniac all day.

When Jamil gets to his room, his eyes widen and he looks past Azul to stare at the over-the-top display of rose petals on the floor and lit candles on the nightstand. He meets eyes with Azul, closing the door behind him and leaning back against it. “Wow. What’s the special occasion?”

“Having you over.” Azul smiles sweetly, taking Jamil bag from him and bringing it to his desk chair. “I’ve been watching a great number of romantic films lately, and rose petals and candles seem to generally be viewed as quite arousing.”

Jamil snorts, sitting on the edge of the bed and setting his chin in the palm of his hand, his face pink. “It’s normally considered cheesy.”

Azul purses his lips, turning to look at him midway into taking off his glasses. “…not sexy then?”

“No, no, it’s very sexy.” He reassures him, beckoning his with a curl of his finger that makes Azul heat up in all the right places. “You should come over here so I can tell you all about it.”

Azul doesn’t need to be told twice when his boyfriend is telling him to do something. He joins him on the bed, Jamil pulling him to lay down on the covers until they’re a mess of limbs and teeth.

It’s usually how their foreplay goes (is that what it’s called? Azul has learned so many new terms these past few months…), something gentle with an undercurrent of heat and dirty phrases to start building momentum.

Clothes come off and on the floor, Jamil’s hands and mouth lavishing his chest while Azul puts one of his hands between Jamil’s legs, his fingers teasing the inside of his thighs and pushing them apart while he presses his face into the crook of his neck to manage the sensitivity wracking his chest.

“You’re more worked up than usual,” Jamil comments, pressing the pads of his fingers firmly against his nipples. “Is there a reason for that?”

“N-no,” Azul manages through a shaky sigh, smiling sheepishly against his neck with a kiss. “Have you ever considered that perhaps it’s your own doing?”

“Me? What could I possibly do to make you this bothered?” He teases back, squirming when Azul keeps rubbing his hands into his thighs.

“Dropping notes in my office, or my bag.” Azuls reminds him, pulling back from his neck to kiss him properly. “All of out late night trysts - do any of those ring a bell?”

“Hm…no, I don’t recall anything like that.” Jamil shakes his head, and kisses him back.

Azul pulls his hands from his legs to move on to his waist, pausing when the cold air hits his hands. He tries not to, he really does, but it’s about two seconds between Jamil raising an eyebrow at him and Azul bursting out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jamil asks, sitting up on his elbow, watching Azul cover his face with his arms.

“I don’t think you’ll be very happy if I tell you.” Azul says between breaths.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jamil crosses his arms, waiting for a response.

Azul puts his forehead against his, barely being able to hold it together. “Jamil, my love, luce della mia vita,” He says, watching Jamil’s skepticism grow deeper and deeper. “You are incredibly wet.”

It only takes about two more seconds before Jamil sits up and smacks him with a pillow.

“You wanted to know!” Azul reminds him, giggling and trying to shield himself. “I was just doing as you aske- hey, I don’t want to get the pillow sheets dirty!”

Jamil relents in his attack, sitting up to grab from the tissues on the nightstand and clean himself up before he gives Azul enough to clean his hand. Azul seats himself beside him, his laughter dying down while he cleans between his fingers and throws the tissues away.

Silence settles between them, and that tiny nag in his head comes back. Azul wants to bash his head into the wall from how fast he can go from feeling confident and comfortable to a little awkward and self conscious. Old habits die hard and all of that, he supposes.

He and Jamil turn to look at each other at the same time, talking over each other.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Is it a bad thing-?”

They pause for a beat before smiles grow on their faces, and they start laughing all over again.

“Goodness, every time…” Azul shakes his head, setting his hands on his legs. He leans over to kiss Jamil, nuzzling his lips against his skin. “You’re just fine, I don’t mind a little wetness.”

“And you look just fine, Zu.” Jamil responds by biting his cheek and brushing his fingers  past his erection. “Especially like this.”

Azul yelps, covering himself with a glare. Jamil grins and puts his hands up in defense. “I’m just telling the truth.”

Jamil is soon after tackled back to the mattress and attacked with kiss after kiss after kiss.

“You, Jamil Viper,” Azul narrows his eyes at him dragging his hands down from his sides to his hips and back between his thighs with a smile. “Are sure to be soaked by the time we’re done.”

Azul tips his head forward until they bump foreheads, giving him a kiss with his voice laced in sugar. “Does that sound satisfactory to you?”

Jamil exhales and a sort of flustered, half-moan leaves his lips. He puts his hands up on Azul’s shoulders, pushing his hips up into his hands and returning the smile - soft and sensual and everything Azul’s elated he’s feeling in this moment. “Absolutely. Do you remember what I told you our first time?”

Azul taps his thumbs against his thighs while he thinks before his cheeks up. “A-ah, you mean-?”

“Mhm. I like how that sounds.” He hums with a knowing grin, moving his hands up to cup his cheeks. “So I think you should show me a very good time tonight and make love to me, Azul.”

Azul has never felt so attractive in his whole entire life.

His boyfriend thinks he’s handsome, and intelligent, and worth the time it takes to be together. He finds him pretty and beautiful, and above all he trusts him to share even the most intimate parts of their lives together.

Azul loves him very, very much, and he honors it all by doing exactly as Jamil says, showing him an amazing time long into the night.

*

Bonus:

Azul takes a long, slow sip of coffee, listening to the sizzle from the Scarabia kitchen’s stove. Kalim is sitting across from him at the island, swinging his legs idly under the table while Jamil makes them all breakfast.

Azul would have insisted on doing it for him, but he knows that Kalim (even with Jamil’s poison-free approval), won’t eat anything he makes - and even after the long night they had, Jamil still wanted to make breakfast himself.

Azul had compromised with him by saying he’d clean the dishes after, and that seemed to be agreeable - it’s too bad he’s not able to relax much with Kalim staring him down across the table though.

Azul can’t say he understands it, because if Kalim has a bone to pick with him he’ll know - but Kalim seems quieter than usual (quiet for Kalim, anyways), and it’s throwing him off. He assumes Jamil hasn’t noticed because he’s too focused on cooking or his brain is still fuzzy from last night, and the peace and quiet is probably a god send for him.

Azul sips his coffee again and decided not to bring it up - feigning ignorance is a speciality of his, after all.

“Okay, everything’s almost done - I’m going to go wash my face while it cools.” Jamil says, turning off the stove. He kisses the side of Azul’s head on the way out, something that does not go unnoticed by Kalim. “Please don’t burn down the kitchen while I’m gone - either of you.”

“We won’t! Don’t worry Jamil.” Kalim chirps, watching Jamil leave the room and patter down the hallway. As soon as he’s a good distance away, Kalim continues his blatant staring contest, and Azul takes the bait because he doesn’t know how much more he can take this morning.

“Kalim - forgive me if I’m wrong, but I feel as though you’ve been trying to get my attention?” Azul asks all business-like with his chin in his palm.

Kalim responds by reaching under the table into his pocket, holding a closed fist over Azul’s side of the table, and dropping a handful of colorfully-wrapped condoms without breaking eye contact. “I think these belong to you and Jamil.”

Kalim, Azul has deduced, is the most terrifying fucking person he’s ever met.

Azul’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly, though he manages to keep the rest of his face stationary. He’s good at playing dumb and talking his way out of things, but that applies to things like shady dealings and unsatisfied customers when Floyd decides it’s karaoke night. He doesn’t even know where to begin with this.

“Ah.” He says simply, eyes glancing down at the table with pursed lips before he meets Kalim’s blood red eyes. “And, just how did you come to that conclusion, if I may ask? That’s quite the accusation to be making-“

“I went to get my laundry from Jamil’s room, and these were in the bottom of the basket.” Kalim says, unwavering.

Well, shit.

Azul hastily takes the condoms and shoves them in his pocket, keeping his smile intact and folding his hands on the table. “Well, it would seem that you have indeed have come to a very…astounding conclusion. But I believe you’re a very reasonable person, as I am a benevolent soul, so there must be something I can offer for your silence on the matter.”

Azul widens his smile to sweeten the deal, though his heart is hammering in the inside. “Surely even the boy who has everything desires something perhaps even money cannot buy? Or you need assistance obtaining a certain monetary object?”

Kalim scrunches his brows and presses his lips together, seriously considering Azul’s words. Azul is not backing down on this, no way in hell - Kalim is now the fourth person who knows excluding Azul and Jamil. That’s four more people than he wants to know.

“Well, I don’t think you could help me with what I really want - and I’d feel bad asking anyways.” Kalim sighs, a comically mopey look in his face while he sets his chin in his palms, staring dismally at the table.

“Oh Kalim, surely you know me better than that - it is my sole purpose in life to aid others!” Azul pushes. “I assure you, no order is too tall - as long as it’s within reason.”

“Well that’s the thing, it’s not reasonable.” Kalim shakes his head adamantly. “I’d want you guys to stop, y’know, doing it, but I know you make Jamil happy and I don’t want to interfere with that.”

He whines, putting his face down on the table. “But it’s just so weird! I don’t wanna think about Jamil like that!”

Azul softens a bit, almost wanting to laugh at Kalim’s display. It makes total sense, it’s no wonder Kalim would be grossed out. Jade and Floyd probably would be more with him if the three of them weren’t already three weird peas in a pod. “And that’s understandable - Jamil means very much to you, and I’m quite flattered you think of me as a source of happiness for him.”

“Well yeah - Jamil’s always in a good mood when you’re over, or when he’s talking with you on the phone.” Kalim admits, turning his face to lay on his cheek. “Can you maybe just…do a better job at hiding it? Please?”

Azul blushes with a nod, straightening in his seat and extending his hand to Kalim. “I will do you one better - there’s a student in Octavinelle with memory-altering unique magic. I’m sure I can work something out there.”

“Thanks - I’m not totally sure, but I’ll think about that.” Kalim smiles before he slinks back in his chair and makes a face at Azul’s hand. “And um, no offense, but I don’t want to shake your hand if you were ‘busy’ with him last night.”

Azul tries to swallow his embarrassment and bring his hand back to his lap. He supposes that’s the price he has to pay for them being careless. “…Understood.”