✿

“Gross, stop smiling like that,” Jamil rolls his eyes, but his smile on his face gives him away. Azul smiles more in response.

“Oh, but I’m just so happy, you know?” Azul says, not even bothering to hide it. It was the first time that they had ever held hands. Their relationship was still fresh, less than a month long, but both were so awkward that it seemed even getting to this point was hard for each of them. It’s weird getting to a point of being comfortable with touch when you spent months pining over each other where Azul was pretending it was for ulterior motives and Jamil was pretending he hated him. Clearly, neither were true, but because of that physical touch was still something a bit foreign between them. And yet, Azul had daydreamed about it more times than he could count, so excuse him for being a little giddy about it.

“You almost sound like you’ve been wanting to hold my hand for a while,” Jamil adds, chuckling. Azul looks away. Did Jamil also have a secret mind reading ability that he hadn’t known about?

“That’s nonsense. It’s just handholding.”

“And yet, you’re here all smiley and happy about it.”

Azul said nothing and he hears a breathy laugh from the other, and he finds his smile return to his face.

That is, until Jamil’s fingers start tracing along the lines of Azul’s palm. Azul gasps, but hides it with a cough, and it seems as though Jamil is none the wiser. This sensation though…

He doesn’t want to let go of Jamil’s hand quite yet, but to admit to Azul that the feeling of him grazing his finger across his palm was ticklish just may be worse.

Azul swallowed, grateful that he had already been smiling. Especially now because he doesn’t think he could have kept it down if he tried. It was ticklish, yes, but fortunately, he didn’t feel the urge to laugh, so he decided to just endure and hope Jamil didn’t notice a thing.

two.

Azul and Jamil were kissing. Now, they had kissed before but none of it had ever been more than a peck on the lips, never lasting longer than a second.

Despite it being so short, Azul never cherished them any less. But this? This was different. They had never gotten much free time to be themselves and when they were, there was often a nosy Jade or Floyd, or even sometimes Kalim around the corner. But now, in the darkest of the night in Azul’s room, it was just the two of them alone, basking in the presence of one another. They had talked, joked, the like, but then they moved closer when there were no more words to be said. They leaned in when the silence stretched on. Azul had expected to pull away as soon as it happened, but Jamil had held his face, smashing their lips together, almost desperate in his movements.

This was so much better than Azul could have ever imagined, he thinks, as he gasps when Jamil bites his lip.

It stings, but just barely, and feels much better than any of the dreams he had about it. Jamil licks over where he had just bit Azul and Azul uses that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

He can feel Jamil smirk against his lips and he feels his own lips quirk up against his will. Jamil starts roaming his body, hands exploring every nook and crevice of his neck, his back, his waist.

Azul’s lips quirk up more, much more against his will, at the ticklish sensation, but the feeling is bearable, so he doesn’t stop Jamil. Instead, his hands start traveling across Jamil’s body as well, just feeling. He doesn’t know if he could ever get enough of this, as Jamil continues to kiss him and Azul returns the kiss just as passionately.

He thinks he feels Jamil twitch at certain spots when Azul touches them, but he doesn’t do anything because he knows he is too. He definitely notes it down for later, though.

When Azul, embarrassingly enough, has half of his tongue in Jamil’s mouth, he lets out a loud shriek. Jamil’s hands had found their way to his hips and he had not been ready for it at all. Azul’s hands reflexively find their way to Jamil's, moving them away. Jamil pulls back.

“What happened?”

“...Nothing.” Azul had been thinking about nothing during the last few minutes of them kissing and he could not gather a response, no matter how much he had wished for it.

Jamil thinks, then seems to come to some sort of realization. Azul resists the urge to squirm underneath Jamil’s gaze. With a glint in his eyes, he asks, ‘Are you ticklish?”

“What? No– of course not,” Azul exclaims, offended that Jamil was absolutely correct. Jamil looks at him disbelievingly.

“Right, I never pegged you as the type, but I guess it makes sense,” Jamil says, and Azul is frantically looking for excuses in his head. This absolutely cannot happen. Jamil would never let him live it down.

“It doesn’t make sense, because it’s not true.” Azul was good at making a poker face. He was sure that anyone else would have been convinced by now, but apparently, Jamil had known him well enough to catch him on his lies, because his expression has not changed since he first made the realization.

“Right… so you just reacted over nothing for no reason? It’s okay to be ticklish, you know.” Jamil chuckles, but Azul knows it’s a trap. He was not going to fall for it.

“There was a reason, I told you!”

“Because it tickled?”

“No–”

three.

The third time Jamil accidentally tickled Azul was when they were dancing. Azul had known that Jamil loved dancing, so he made the twins help him plan a date at the Mostro Lounge where the two could share a nice meal then dance to music afterwards.

The dinner was nice. It was curry, a food he knew to be Jamil’s favorite. He had spent hours the night before making sure the recipe was perfect before he and the twins made it. There was nothing wrong with it and he couldn’t help the swell of pride when Jamil ate the food with a poorly concealed look of delight.

They talked about everything and anything that came to mind. Azul always loved a chance to learn more about his partner and vice versa. Though Jamil was less open to admitting it than Azul was, although it was obvious by the way Jamil always seemed to remember the things Azul had told him, even if it was just in passing.

Later, Jamil had teased him over dinner about going through such lengths for someone like him, and Azul had adamantly refused and declared that Jamil deserved that and much more.

Jamil had responded by standing and holding his hand out for Azul to take. Azul patted his mouth with a napkin before taking Jamil’s hand. The two of them walked towards the middle of the room, which was spacious enough to be a dancefloor, even if it weren’t the intended purpose.

The Mostro Lounge had a piano, but it also had a record player that could play all sorts of music. Azul enjoyed classical jazz so that was most often played in the Lounge. The music, this time, was a more magical, upbeat sound, with violins and pianos and such. It was a beautiful song, really, one that Azul had liked ever since he first heard of it.

Jamil liked all sorts of dance, and even now, he seems ecstatic to be on the dance floor, guiding Azul. Naturally, Jamil took the lead, which Azul found himself not minding it all that much. Normally, in other cases, he would have fought Jamil to be the one in charge, but well.. Dancing was a separate matter. He had the basics of dance down, not keen on humiliating himself if he ever found himself in a situation where he had to dance in public, but he was still getting used to being on land. It was normal for him to be a bit flimsy on his feet at times.

Jamil and Azul’s hands are intertwined, as Azul puts his left hand over Jamil’s shoulder. In turn, Jamil’s hand was on his waist. Although Azul knew he definitely wasn’t going to win any awards for his dancing skills anytime soon, Jamil was good enough for the two of them, swinging the two of them around with practiced grace.

When Azul steps on Jamil’s foot, Jamil lets out a laugh and Azul scoffs indignantly.

“It seems I’m always finding more things that crack your perfect persona,” Jamil says, and Azul rolls his eyes.

“I never claimed to be perfect,” Azul mutters, trying not to look down at the ground too much.

“You once tried to manipulate dice throws so that you could guarantee games of luck.”

“And that’s just dedication, Jamil. Nothing about being perfect.” Jamil chuckles at that again and Azul finds his heart momentarily stopped.

“I think it’s admirable,” Jamil admits, and Azul looks him in the eyes, a bit surprised at the sudden sincerity.

“Is that so?” He swallows, trying to feign nonchalance, but Jamil doesn’t pay any heed to that anyway.

“You’re very hardworking. It’s admirable.” Jamil looks down, looking bashful, and Azul smiles.

“I could say the same to you,” Azul replies. The conversation ends there, but the dance becomes more passionate as they dance around to the beat of the song. Seven, Azul wonders what they looked like right now, if they looked as beautiful as the music they danced to.

That is, until Jamil tries to dip Azul down. Azul feels a bit embarrassed, but decides to go with it just for Jamil, only for Jamil and that stupid, irresistible smirk on his face. However, it isn’t his embarrassment that stops him, but a hand that grips firmly at his sides and–

“Ack!” It tickled.

He’s on the floor, after he had basically jumped out of Jamil’s grasp, losing his footing. Jamil looks startled and Azul hurries to stand.

“I.. slipped,” Azul answers Jamil’s unspoken question.

“Slipped? It looked like something scared you,” Jamil is really too perceptive.

“I just wasn’t prepared so I was afraid you were going to drop me..”

Jamil stares at him for a second longer and Azul forces himself to maintain eye contact.

Then, Jamil’s expression turns to a smile, teasing. Before he can open his mouth, Azul cuts him off.

“Oh, don’t you start–”

“Did it tickle–”

Azul doesn’t listen, as he grabs the other’s arms and spins him into a circle to force him to start dancing. After a few seconds, it works as they fall into a familiar groove. Azul feels himself begin to relax.

Even if now he has to deal with a mischievous Jamil poking him every so often, then laughing in his face when he would flinch or squeak.

and one time it was on purpose.

At first, Jamil and Azul didn’t spend the night in each other’s rooms often, because they both had things to do early in the morning and it was just more convenient to stay in their own respective rooms. Sometimes, it was a bit bittersweet, though. There were times where Azul craved nothing but Jamil’s presence, missing him badly, even if they had seen each other less than a day ago. It did make the times they did sleep over in the other’s rooms much sweeter, though.

Overtime, however, they had been making much more time for one another, deciding that whatever they had to do in the mornings could wait a few extra minutes. The reason for that was nightmares. Having both experienced overblots, it wasn’t uncommon to experience nightmares of that horrid experience.

It was nice having someone who related though. He loved the twins to death, not that he would ever tell them that, as they had helped him through his nightmares whenever he woke up screaming or crying at night and the twins would force themselves into his room. They’d have a sleepover and they’d tease Azul over being a crybaby, but they never meant any of it. Part of Azul wonders if he would be as okay as he is without them.

Still, they didn’t understand what going through the overblot was like. Being overwhelmed by pain, fear, so many negative emotions all at once, getting enveloped in pitch black darkness, Azul watched himself relive that moment where he lost everything, the moment he couldn’t handle it anymore and just.. Broke down, unable to control his emotions, watching as he hurt those he loved and unable to do anything about it. It was a terrifying experience and he never wanted to go through it again. Even when the twins helped him, the nightmares still occurred and he still felt alone.

But Jamil understood. Of course he did. What Jamil had gone through was awful and Azul had been there to witness it. A part of him wonders sometimes how Jamil doesn’t hate him, for ruining his plans, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever tell Jamil that.

The fact is, Jamil understood him and Azul understood him. The overblots brought terrible nightmares to the both of them and they both just.. Get it.

It was only a meaning of time before they learned to rely on one another during these nightmares and staying with each other when it happened helped. Whenever one of them had a nightmare and didn’t want to be alone, they always knew that the other would be there for them.

Neither were ever surprised when they opened the door at ungodly hours of the night to the other in their pajamas and looking for comfort.

Today was one of those nights. It had been months since Azul had overblotted and his nightmares weren’t as frequent or intense, but he had already been in a bad mood that day, stressed about matters around the Mostro Lounge, his calorie intake, his work as a housewarden, the list goes on. He had noticed early on that when he was in a bad mood, his dreams were likely to be much worse.

So he wasn’t all that shocked when he woke up at 2am, tears streaming down his face and sweating bullets. He sat for a couple moments, allowing his breathing to return to normal but whenever he shut his eyes, he saw thick, black goo, and he knew he couldn’t sleep like this.

His legs walked him to Jamil’s dorm before he could even take a moment to hesitate. He knocked the door, softly. He wasn’t even completely sure it would wake Jamil up. Still, he waited, unmoving.

The door opened to him barely a minute later. Jamil took one look at him and moved out of the way, opening the door further to let him in. Azul did, flopping down on Jamil’s bed like he had many times before. The room is dark, dimly lit by a lamp on Jamil’s nightstand.

“I can guess what this is about,” Jamil mutters, but he’s half asleep and Azul starts to feel guilty for waking him up. Jamil flops down on the bed next to him, wrapping his arms around the other like it’s second nature. Which, ever since they began this whole routine, it was. Azul leans into his touch, his guilt slowly vanishing, seeing the Jamil wasn’t particularly bothered by his presence.

“Ah, Jamil, you know me so well,” Azul jokes, because he’s unsure how he could respond.

“Unfortunately..” Jamil says, but before Azul could say anything, Jamil speaks again. “Tell me what your dream was about.”

“How did you know it was a dream?” Azul knows why, but he asks anyway. Jamil gives him this sort of disbelieving look.

“What else would you come here for…” Jamil looks at the digital clock he has on his nightstand. “At 3:32 in the morning?” Azul bites his lip.

“That’s true.”

“So?”

“So.”

Jamil doesn’t look amused, as he tries to blink the sleepiness from his eyes. Azul curls inward on himself.

No one speaks. Jamil waits. Azul does, too. For what exactly? He’s not quite sure.

Jamil gives him another look and Azul was too in love with the other boy that he knew that anything Jamil wanted from him, he would give it to him. This was no exception, clearly, since all it took was a single look for him to fold.

He wants to say that he doesn’t want to tell Jamil anything, but that isn’t exactly true. He trusts Jamil more than anything, but sometimes he feels as though being vulnerable will make Jamil not love him anymore. He fears that Jamil no longer looking his way will break him. That he’ll spiral again. That he’ll overblot.

He never wants to go through that again. He doesn’t want to hurt those dear to him. He doesn’t want to hurt Jamil.

And so, Azul tells exactly that. That his dream had been about his overblot, and this time, Jamil had been in the very center of it. He averts his eyes, shame deep in his guts, as Jamil thinks. It’s about a minute or two before Jamil speaks.

“Overblots suck.”

Azul blinks.

“..Yeah,” He agrees, because it’s so simple. Overblots suck, they really do. It’s true.

“But I’d never blame you for having one. For breaking down like that. For… being vulnerable. I’d never stop loving you because you have feelings.”

Azul’s heart beats louder in his chest than he thinks it ever has before. He’s sure his face is completely flushed but he doesn’t bother to hide it in the darkness of the room. He struggles to find the words to say, but to describe how he’s feeling, he would say it’s relief. Overwhelming relief. Has Jamil ever been so genuine? Was he still half-asleep?

“That’s…” Azul trails off, meeting Jamil’s eyes. Jamil smiles at him, warmly. It’s unlike the amused smirks he often sends his way, but something more special. Something reserved for him. He wants to cry. He almost does.

Jamil plants a kiss on Azul’s head and Azul can’t help the smile from forming on his face. Jamil plants a few more kisses on his face and he can’t resist the urge to giggle.

“Jahahamil, stohop! It–”

“Tickles?” Jamil finishes, and now his smile looks a bit more devilish. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You try to hide it, but it’s pretty obvious.”

“Urgh.. Whatever do you mean…” Azul feigns ignorance, but it doesn’t last long because Jamil’s hands find their way to Azul’s sides and he squeezes. “Agh…!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You’re ticklish.”

“Shut it…” He says, because Azul knows there's no denying it. Jamil’s smirk widens and Azul starts wondering if it was a good idea to come here tonight. (Remembering Jamil’s words earlier tells him that it very much was.)

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jamil chuckles, his voice low. “I’ll just tickle you instead.”

Azul wants to fight against it, but he doesn’t know if he has the strength. Or if he really minds all that much right now.

Jamil’s hands squeeze at his sides again, and he flinches, and Jamil laughs at him. Actually laughs.

“Wahahait!” Azul cries, shaking his head.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a while, you know. I’m tired of waiting,” Jamil says, as he graces Azul with another squeeze to his sides. “But waiting has let me find out a lot. Like…” Jamil squeezes a spot on Azul’s waist, where it meets his hips, and he bucks forward, shrieking all the while. “That you’re sensitive here, and,” He finds a spot on Azul’s stomach and he is given nearly the same reaction. “Here too.”

Ugh, so Jamil really was observing him all this time! He should’ve known that Jamil wouldn’t just… let it go! He knew. He had planned this.

Azul wants to be angry, but he isn’t. Instead, he laughs and laughs as Jamil finds different spots on him.

“Wow, this is impressive,” Jamil says. “Is there anywhere you’re not ticklish?”

“T-there ahahare!” Azul exclaims, because it’s true. It’s just… not anywhere Jamil is targeting. When Jamil lingers on that evil spot on his stomach, Azul feels like he could die. It’s ticklish, much more ticklish than he remembered, and Jamil, of all people, knew it now.

“Really? Because I’m not finding any,” Jamil points out. Azul wants to insist that there are, but he’s laughing too much as his worst spots are attacked.

“Jahamil! Plehehease!” He feels tears pricking at his eyes and his stomach is starting to ache from the laughter. He doesn’t even want to know how loud he’s being. He’s honestly shocked no one has knocked on the door asking them to keep the noise down. But they haven’t, so Jamil keeps going.

“Begging? Is the Azul Ashengrotto begging? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” It’s a mean tease, but effective on him nonetheless. He feels his face turn a deep shade of blue and he shakes his head.

“Sh-shush! Stohop!” Azul cries once more, and this time, the hands that had been torturing his stomach and well, entire torso area, stop. That doesn’t mean the ticklish sensations leave just yet, though. Jamil’s approach is just much more gentle this time.

His lips meet Azul’s neck and he freezes for a moment, but then he relaxes, his laughter dies down. It tickles when Jamil kisses him, but his laughter dies down to only giggles. His laughter spikes when Jamil nibbles him on his neck and he scrunches it, but the sensations are still there. Jamil cups his face with one hand as his other hand finds Azul’s. He interlocks their fingers and he continues peppering kisses along Azul’s neck.

“Jahahamil..”

“Hm?” His voice vibrates against Azul’s neck and Azul shivers. Azul doesn’t respond. He didn’t really have anything to say. He just wanted to hear Jamil’s name on his lips.

Jamil doesn’t seem to mind the lack of response, as he lifts his head, pressing his lips to Azul’s, kissing him so affectionately, Azul could feel his brain melting with every second that passed. but he does start grazing at Azul’s palm with his thumb.

“Hmph..!” Azul gasps again.

“I know you’re ticklish here too.” Jamil says, and Azul half-heartedly glares at him. Instead of denying it, he says nothing.

He pushes his lips against Jamil’s, who had broken their kiss to make his comment, to distract him. It works. The grazing of his palm continues, but it’s much slower paced than before. Seconds later, it’s gone, as Jamil brings his other hand to Azul’s face.

They don’t know how long they spend kissing, but the next moment, they’re waking up to the sounds of birds chirping happily and the sun peeking through their eyelids, so they must have fallen asleep at some point. Jamil wakes up first, sitting up, which stirs Azul, as he groggily stares at Jamil. Jamil rubs his eyes, then turns to him.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Jamil.” They stare for a second before they both crack a smile. Azul looks at the clock, reading the time. “We should get up. You have to make Kalim breakfast and I have work to do at the Lounge before classes start.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me…”

“Oh, what’s this? Jamil being a slacker?”

“Oh, hush, or I’ll utilize that interesting discovery I learned about you last night.” Azul narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t mean it truly.

“Rude.”

Jamil smirks at him, and Azul sticks his tongue out childishly. The vice housewarden stands, stretching widely as he changes into his school uniform. Azul stays in bed for a few minutes longer. He feels much more refreshed than usual, despite having such a hard time falling asleep. It seemed the kissing and the.. tickling had taken more out of him than he thought it did. He thinks about last night’s events, his nightmare, Jamil's response, how he had felt about it, and the events following.

The Azul from months ago could have never pictured something like this happening, but he’s glad it did. Jamil really was something, like he always knew he was, even if it wasn’t quite the way he intended. Azul fondly lets out a laugh to himself. He stands as well, also changing into the pair of clothes he had brought with him the night before. He always made sure he had it. He would never dare walk through Scarabia and Octavinelle in his pajamas.

Jamil looks at the mirror, applying eyeliner, and Azul takes notice of a piece of lint on the back of his uniform. He goes to reach for it, when Jamil jumps hard and squeals. Azul pauses, and Jamil slowly turns, looking mortified at the look on Azul’s face.