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In the time he’d spent far from the West Block, Nezumi had had this dream many times. He’d imagine waking up in Shion’s arms, feeling Shion’s warm, steady breaths against his skin. Nezumi would hesitate before reaching towards Shion. When his fingers were nearly against Shion’s skin, he’d really wake up, cold and alone, under whatever shelter he’d managed to find or make the previous night.
Though the scene was familiar, Nezumi knew immediately that this wasn’t a dream. Never, in hundreds of iterations, had he even thought to think of awakening skin-to-skin, Shion’s bare chest against his own. What had woken Nezumi up was the feeling of Shion’s fingers running gently along the ridges of scar tissue on Nezumi’s back. The touch had sent shivers up Nezumi’s spine, and he’d nearly bolted out of the bed, his instincts outpacing his conscious mind. Shion was asleep; his hands had found their way to Nezumi’s scars as he dreamed, the pads of his fingers pressing softly against Nezumi’s shoulders, now. Shion’s arms held him, yet Nezumi did not feel trapped. Nezumi’s arms, too, wrapped around Shion, his palms fitting just above Shion’s hips.
They’d arranged themselves like this while they slept, Nezumi realized. When they’d fallen asleep, Shion had had his back to Nezumi. Nezumi had fallen asleep with his lips on Shion’s nape, but woken up with his nose against Shion’s clavicle. Even the most intensely intimate of Nezumi’s fantasies paled in comparison to this, yet there was no urgency to his arousal. Despite everything Nezumi knew about what awaited them outside this room, he felt as if they had all the time in the world.
He could kiss Shion awake right now. He could pull Shion closer to him and pick up where they’d left off, take advantage of the borrowed time they had. But he preferred to let Shion sleep. He just wanted to look at Shion’s face, finally relaxed. As Shion breathed, his chest hollowed out. His mouth was slack, falling half-open every few breaths, like each exhale let out some of the tension he’d been holding. Nezumi let himself rest his weight against Shion’s hands. Shion breathed in as he crested one of Nezumi’s scars, then out as he reached Nezumi’s shoulder blade. Nezumi pressed his forehead into Shion’s chest, closed his eyes, and just breathed.