koki's corner

Nagi used to be so cute and needy. He's still cute, of course, because Reo's husband is always cute, but as Nagi sleeps against Reo's chest, breath stuttering and skin feverish, Reo feels his own mouth tugging downwards.

Reo drags his fingers through Nagi's hair, damp with sweat. A few months ago, Reo could've effortlessly carried him to the bath. But now, there's a packet of wipes on their bedside dresser, and two pillows underneath Reo's broken leg. He can't take Nagi anywhere. Can't do anything.

Reo reaches out his free hand and presses his finger onto one of Choki's spines. Just enough to embed an ache, not enough to bleed over his treasure's first companion. At least this is pain that he can choose.

Nagi hadn't even wanted to get in bed with him. How does he not realize the way it makes Reo feel?

What use is he now? Mikage Reo, once a super elite all-rounder, can't even take care of his sick husband. If Nagi didn't already keep the house stocked with medical necessities, Reo wouldn't have been able to even drive to town.

Nagi stirs at the sound of the door opening and closing. He must’ve fallen asleep again — that’s fine, it’s not like there’s a lot to do over the break — but he thinks he must still be dreaming, because Reo is coming over to his bed, soft footsteps nearly silent.

If he could, Nagi would sit up in surprise, but he doesn’t want to move, and he doesn’t have to. Reo slips underneath the blanket that Nagi’s tangled up in, tucking it around the two of them properly. There’s sunlight coming through the window — eh, when had he opened it? — and it makes Reo even brighter, like how refracted light bursts into rainbow hues. It’s almost a little blinding; if the sun grows any stronger, it might blot Reo out completely.

Even through the haze of sleep, through his half-lidded eyes, Nagi wants to see him properly. Even if they were at Shibuya with everyone else a few days ago, it wasn’t the same as it used to be. Reo stayed just out of reach, but it didn’t feel like whenever he would tease Nagi. It felt worse.

But Reo read his mind, somehow, and he came, right back into Nagi’s arms.

“Reo,” Nagi starts, but Reo interrupts him. There’s a flush to his skin, and he leans, just a little, into the crook of Nagi’s neck, like he wants to hide.

“Nagi,” Reo says. “You really should clean up around here, you know.” Ah, finally another order from his boss. Well — one that he doesn’t mind as much as leave me alone or don’t touch me.

“Later,” Nagi says. He’s not sure why Reo’s here all of a sudden, but he wants to make the best of it. With how things have been lately, he doesn’t know when Reo will turn cold again. He shouldn’t waste time asking about necessary things. “Let’s sleep, Reo.”

“Ha, weren’t you just sleeping?”

“I sleep better with Reo,” Nagi says, slipping his hands around Reo’s waist, fingers ghosting underneath his patterned sweater. Reo’s all soft skin and lean muscle, like a perfect pillow. Maybe he should ask if this is okay. He’s never had to ask before, but — ah, Reo’s entwining their fingers. His palms are callused, and Nagi wonders if Reo’s been working out over their break — probably, yeah. Nagi hasn’t lifted a single weight since.

“Stupid boy,” Reo says affectionately. He’s warm, smiling. The tips of their noses brush; he isn’t hiding anymore. Nagi can smell lavender soap and iced coffee, can see how Reo’s eyes darken as they gaze into his.

It’s embarrassing, but — Nagi’s dreamt about kissing Reo. He wonders if Reo’s thought about it too — when he looked it up online, he saw that sometimes, weird dreams like that can happen, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

The way Reo’s looking at him now feels like it means something.

“Reo,” Nagi tries again, but Reo interrupts once more: with a soft brush of his lips against Nagi’s. Nagi’s lips are chapped, and his throat is dry, but he doesn’t care, because Reo’s here, Reo’s kissing him, Reo wants wants wants him —

“Reo, Nagi bursts out breathlessly, “why are you here?”

There’s a bit of a pause, and then Reo admits, “I don’t know.”

“That doesn't sound like Reo,” Nagi protests. “Reo always knows.”

Or, well, he’s supposed to, but they’ve both changed, haven't they? They had finally lost, and Reo had looked so helpless back then.

“Go to sleep,” Reo says quietly, and it’s like a magic spell, because what happens next is this: Nagi wakes up to the faint glow of the sunset peeking through the curtains, and he’s tangled up in the blanket again. Choki’s silhouette casts a small shadow over the edge of the bed; there’s nothing — no one — else.

Nagi turns from side to side, says, “Reo?”

Nagi wakes to Reo’s arms around him, clasping around his neck as Reo suddenly presses close, chest to chest, all shuddering breaths and tangled purple hair brushing against Nagi’s cheek.

Suddenly the room is too warm; it’s suffocating. They’re tangled up in the blankets and each other, and Reo’s holding him so tightly that Nagi can’t quite breathe, but that’s how Reo is, sometimes, except he usually isn’t crying.

Why is Reo crying?

They’ve been dating for one month, and this is the first time that Nagi has seen Reo cry. Today is their one month, exactly, and Reo had been happy. He had been stupidly sappy and sweet, pulling out all the stops for their date, and Nagi had played it cool, but he had been happy too. Everything had seemed fine when they had gone to bed, so what could have happened?

“Reo?” Nagi says groggily, “Bad dream?”

“Nagi…” Reo’s voice is low, hoarse. He lets out a shaky little exhale that he tries to stifle against Nagi’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Nagi says. He pats Reo’s back slowly, unsure of what to do. Maybe he could think if it wasn’t so warm —

So what he says is this: “Can Reo take off my shirt?”

“Uh, sure?” Reo says. He lets go, and they both sit up. Reo pulls Nagi’s shirt off, and then and after a moment’s hesitation, sheds his own. He lingers in the moonlight, the two of them kneeling there in silence. Reo, Nagi thinks, looks a little nervous, until Nagi opens his arms back up.

“C’mere,” Nagi says. He pulls Reo down against his chest, against his heartbeat, and thinks about how he used to sleep with his grandparents’ fluffy old cat. The cat’s weight was comforting, and so was her purring. While Nagi can’t really purr, he can’t deny that holding Reo like this, skin to skin, feels really good. He hopes it’s making Reo feel good too — Reo’s breathing seems to be settling down, and he’s got his hand over Nagi’s heart, tracing little circles, so. Maybe?

“Wanna talk about it?” Nagi offers.

“It’s stupid.” Reo slings his leg over Nagi’s, curls a little closer. Nagi mirrors the motion, locking the two of them together.

“So what? Lots of things are stupid.”

“You calling me stupid?” Reo scowls, but Nagi can tell that he’s teasing. They lapse back into silence, and Nagi tries to figure out what else he can do for Reo before they fall asleep. Something that would chase the bad dreams away.

Ah, Reo likes to play with his hair, so maybe that?

“Pet my hair, Reo.” Nagi takes Reo’s hand and places it on his head, nudging against his calloused palm.

“Huh? Shouldn’t you be petting my hair?” Reo huffs out a laugh.

“Does Reo want me to?”

Reo hesitates, which probably means yes, so Nagi threads his fingers through Reo’s silky hair. His eyelids are getting heavier again, sleep desperate to reclaim him. But he belongs to Reo now, so he has to try to fight it.

“Reo,” he mumbles, “Dream of something nice this time. Like me. Or the World Cup.”

“I will, my treasure,” Reo says softly.

Which one, Nagi wants to ask, but he’s too tired, so he just says, “Promise?”