AZUNE IS CURLED UP IN THE SAME BED AS BABEL once again, like all those years back in the rebellion and the months after. he had no idea when they reunited a few days ago that they would end up on the road again. and he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. maybe this time it could be different. when they were no longer fresh out of the rebellion and being called to different directions. are you ready to let me in?
his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on their shoulder, and for a moment azune hesitates in fear of overstepping. “ did you... ” but he has no home, no job, only memories of the past and a person he once thought could become his home. i've been trying to believe what i said is what i need. “ i thought about you often, ” he whispers. he thinks about every one of the rebels often, but that's not what he means. and he is scared to ask if they did the same.
@4zune, tracing his fingers across their shoulder, almost made them fall asleep. They're not sure why, but sleep feels different next to him, easier. "Huh?" They hum as he trails off, not quite glancing back to meet his gaze, but far enough that, for a moment, they watch Azune's fingertips move across their freckled skin. It still feels a little odd to be shirtless around him — something they don’t think about until they think about it too much.
As he whispers, just loud enough for them to hear, they can’t help but imagine Azune's arms around them. They want to close the distance between them, but a deliberate choice would feel different than waking up with his back pressed to their chest, their hair mussed together like a mess of flames. He feels different, too, and it's like he knows it. There's space between them, space enough for him to reach out to touch them. What would those arms do if he were closer? Would he wrap them around their torso? Would his fingertips trail down their arm, continue tracing patterns onto their skin?
They might unravel if they turn to face him, think that if they look at him, they won't be able to get a word out. The softness in his eyes, too much to think about here in bed with him. "I thought about you, too. Often..." After a few beats, they continue, softly. "The smallest things reminded me of you." Even turned away from him, Babel can still feel the heat rising on their face.
Finally glancing at him over their shoulder, they murmur. "You can move closer, if you want."
