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Sunlight streams down Nox's face—it draws soft brushstrokes down his face, beams down on him like sunlight. The window is open, and wind flickers onto his face and into his hair.
He's pressed against Chase, unwilling to let him go as the metaphorical sun cradles the moon. They shift together until Nox's mouth is right against Chase's neck, smiling and resting there like he's meant to fit there. Chase makes a sound like a hum and a laugh in one, a wind chime against a warm fall breeze. It's the right before of things—right before there is a life to be lived, before the leaves change colors—enough reason to savor this. Of course this wouldn't go away, but there will be a life to be lived...but right now he just wants his star holding him.
Nox loves holding Chase, melting into him as if he's never been allowed to melt before (spoiler: he hasn't). He always holds onto Chase like he's shocked he's allowed to have this right before everything decides to go back to normal once more. This is normal too, natural even, holding the back of Chase's head, feeling Chase's arms on his back.
Of course this is normal, but it is a gift that it is at all. He's lucky enough to have this after years of being unable to feel the warm fall breeze that's currently flickering through the sliver of open window, the cold of the manor he was trapped in for years, the tang of chocolate that he could once only distantly taste rather than feel on his lips at least once a week where he went to the cafe to indulge in an over-the-top sweet drink.
Chase, his angel, has his hands through his hair and smiling at him, humming. Wind chime. He balances Nox holding him and breathing slower with his own fiddling and playing at the hem of Nox's shirt, brushing his cheek. "Mm...Chase," Nox says, his voice bits of gravel rubbing at his throat.
His heart feels disgustingly full and he looks back up at a full smile and brown eyes glittering down at him. "Hey Buds."
It made sense that he was modeling. In fact, Nox is glad Chase took his advice—his boy is so beautiful and with all the new skincare he's been getting, his skin is always effortlessly dewy. Even then, all the skincare or whatever-care they gave him was useless when it came to his pretty brown eyes. Nothing could enhance something that was already perfect.
Now that Nox can feel the warmth of Chase again, that they're seated on the edge of their apartment window and they're alone, he's so at peace with this. Their life is just fine, so this is no longer an escape, it's a routine. He's doing fine, of course—taking classes at the local university while Chase modeled, and they had their own apartment now...a new leap for Nox, honestly. It's great that they have a routine, but a selfish part of Nox wants to spend the rest of his life clinging onto this perfect little idiot that's taken over his life for the past few years and has buoyed him back to shore.
"Hi," Nox says again, stupidly, pressing a stray kiss to Chase's angular neck, touching Chase's cheek and back into his hair. He knows Chase doesn't like when his hair is touched—except for when Nox is doing it, absentmindedly melting into their routine.
No one talked about how tiring living could be, especially when you were part of a new world altogether.
Chase's hands continue to card into his hair, and he's raising an eyebrow as he absorbs Nox repeating the greeting, hands wrapping around his back. He feels intoxicated as they repeat their random, miscellaneous teasing, as he marvels in how insane it was that modeling could make Chase even prettier. It was insane, how Nox was just an average college student while his boyfriend was a model.
And sure, it was silly of Nox to make Chase out to be a god, someone that wasn't even human—it was like Deacon melting at the sight of a woman (no hate to the guy, but where's the respect?) but...this was different in so many ways, he swears.
Because god, Chase is staring down at him, cheeks a little warm, staring into Nox's own eyes, and it's different because he knows him so well yet still reduces him to a mess every single time. Without fail. Sunlight is enveloping him from the soft flicker of the window, from Chase's hands tilting his face up. "You just said that. Don't just keep saying hi to me..." Chase half-whines.
Nox blinks. He did greet him already, didn't he?
It's not like clinging onto Chase when he was desperate to feel physical touch again gave way to words that would flow out like water. The words never seemed to come out with Nox in Chase's lap. It was too overwhelming to speak during the times he thought about Chase, while he was indulging in him.
"Oh." Nox says, stars in his eyes. He just hears snickering against his neck.
"You're so funny sometimes." Chase is tilting his head back up, searching for something in them. "Like, you just stop talking normally...'s cute."
Nox leans up closer to where Chase's face is. He's so overwhelmed with Chase holding him, the touch so common now it feels like it is stuck in the back of his mind. Like he's subconsciously being calmed down, even too much until he starts acting like he's drunk, or something.
Buddy leans closer, staring up at his boyfriend expectedly. The sunlight falls over his blond hair, the tips of his eyelashes, and forms shadows across his face as his eyes start to shut.
Slowly, tentatively, Buddy closes the gap between them, not once shifting to let go of Chase.
It's enough for them. Enough for him, even.