Archive of Our Own

“I’m fine, Jun-kun,” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice as he answers. “What, did you miss me that much?”

Jun sighs, weariness evident in his voice. “Well—yes—but, Ohii-san,” he sits, cross-legged, on the floor, reaching out to Hiyori, who was sitting on the couch, and grasping the lime-haired-boy’s hands in his. “What’s wrong?”

Hiyori snorts, as if Jun had just asked an absurd question. “Don’t be silly, Jun-kun! I already told you I’m fine.” 

He is absolutely not fine. But Jun doesn’t need to know that—no one does.

Jun does not look convinced in the slightest. Unfortunately, this is one of the qualities of Jun that makes Hiyori’s heart hurt. Because, really, no one expects the person they saved to become their saviour, now, do they? And for an odd reason, that is precisely the case with Hiyori and Jun’s relationship.

Hiyori had sought out someone at the very bottom—a diamond in the rough, if you will—carrying an intention to save, to have an achievement in his name, to prove—mainly to himself—that he, too, was capable of doing something on his own; that he could be a saviour for once, instead of always being saved.

And he had. He had saved Jun, and he knows his lover is aware of that fact and grateful for it. He’s heard Jun murmur it when he thought Hiyori wasn’t listening. Thus, Hiyori had become a saviour.

A title he had been so desperate to have—to cling onto.

Even so, there was an unexplainable, inexplicable melancholy weighing in Hiyori’s heart that wouldn’t go away, not even when he was with Jun. He had improved in his ability to hide it, to conceal the negativity that was constantly haunting him, to bury the memories of the war and his time with Fine. 

“Ohii-san,” Jun’s voice breaks through Hiyori’s thoughts. “You’re definitely not fine.” The navy-blue-haired boy decides, “but it’s okay. I’m here, I’ve got you.” Gently, as if he were revering his god—his universe—he squeezes Hiyori’s hands.

With the gentleness contained in those words and that action, Hiyori feels as if Jun was tearing open his heart, thread by thread, while simultaneously bearing all of the world’s kindness. 

And Hiyori is painfully reminded that, in this world, there was someone who saw him, with all of his glamour and imperfections and radiance and negativity, and accepted everything.

Hiyori doesn’t know it, but Jun would always greet the world—his world—Hiyori—with open arms. 

“Jun-kun,” he says, and his lover hums in response. “Hug me.” The demand comes out weaker than he expects it to be. He finds that it doesn’t matter, because Jun is tugging him forwards, off of the couch, and scooping him up like Hiyori was some sort of child, and seating him on his lap. 

Hiyori has to wriggle around a little until he’s comfortably straddling the younger boy, legs wrapped around Jun’s waist and arms draped across the navy-blue-haired-boy’s shoulders.

Burying his head in the crook between Jun’s neck and shoulders, Hiyori holds onto Jun like he were a life-line—Hiyori’s life-line—which, in Hiyori’s perspective, he is. 

And Jun is embracing him, tenderly, with all the care he would a diamond. 

Hiyori can feel his lover’s heart beating strongly against his own chest—they were that close—and he wonders whether Jun could hear his own heart racing inside his rib-cage. 

“Ohii-san,” Jun murmurs, voice slightly muffled from where his face is pressed soothingly into Hiyori’s lime green hair. “I love you so much. I’m always here for you.”

Hiyori melts, along with all of his inhibitions, clutching tightly onto Jun. His lungs and throat ache from holding back the sobs that are so close to escaping. He doesn’t know why he was on the verge of breaking down. 

“I’m always here for you,” Jun repeats softly, kissing the top of Hiyori’s head. “So lay everything on me—all of your love, kindness, emotions—everything. I love you so much, Ohii-san.”

Hiyori knows. He knows that Jun is kind and blunt and everything Hiyori never could be. And it hurts, to be reminded of that fact.

“I love you.” Jun says, delicately running his fingers through soft lime green strands. “I love you so much. I’ll keep saying it how many ever times you want me to.” 

Hiyori lifts his head from Jun’s shoulder. “Say it again,” he pleads hoarsely, and finds that Jun’s amber eyes contain nothing except fondness and affection and adoration and love—all directed towards Hiyori and only Hiyori.

Jun’s hands find the sides of Hiyori’s face and cradles it. “I love you.” Carefully, he pulls his lover closer, placing a gentle kiss on Hiyori’s lips. “I love you.” Another kiss. “I love you.”

And Hiyori has quite possibly never felt this loved in his entire life.