tenderness arrives through their window. it is not announced, nor asked for, but it is as inevitable as the moon that rises to lovingly caress the earth every night. the kind of tenderness that finds them collapsed over textbooks and chemistry notes, drool gathering at the corner of their mouth, and thinks: my most beloved. the kind that removes its mask and gloves to touch their hair with naked reverence.
CEE [cotton-soft and effervescent, the type of sweetness that is more clarifying than it is cloying] sleeps at their desk, cheek flattened against highlighted passages about molecular bonds. three coffee cups form a timeline of desperation along the ledge, and the fourth sits cold and half-full. lipbalm-kissed and abandoned.
DAN HENG [spider-suited, quiet as a shadow, wearing stoicism as a second skin that only they get to peel back] comes through the window, silk unspooling. he stands there. just watching. cataloging the evidence of their exhaustion with the same attention he gives to threats throughout the city. but this requires much gentler handling.
he crosses to them, each footfall swallowed by the burgundy carpet. crouches beside the chair until his eyes are level with their sleeping face.
DAN HENG: [barely a whisper, testing] cee.
nothing. only the slight whistle of their breathing through the awkward angle of their neck.
his hand reaches--stops--reaches again. fingers threading through their hair with the delicacy of defusing something precious. they don't wake. only sigh, some dream-sound of contentment, and his chest does something complicated.
the gloves come off first. then his hands return, bare and warm, cupping their face softly. so, so softly. like they're made of spun sugar and wishes made on stars.
DAN HENG: [to the quiet, to them, to himself] you shouldn't study yourself into oblivion.
he traces the ink smudge on their cheek and the slight crease the textbook pressed into their skin. commits these small violences of overwork to memory so he can prevent them next time.
when he lifts them, they curl into his chest with the automatic trust of flowers turning sunward, their fist catching in his suit and holding. even unconscious, they reach for him.
something behind his ribs cracks open. blooms.
the bed receives them both tenderly. he should leave, he thinks, patrol isn't finished, the city never truly sleeps--but neither does he, apparently. not when they're like this. vulnerable and soft and his to protect.
he arranges the blanket with careful precision and smooths it over their shoulders, makes sure their feet are covered, that no draft can reach them bundled amidst this warm cocoon. his fingers linger at their temple, pushing back the hair that falls across their face.
CEE: [surfacing briefly, voice thick] dan heng...?
DAN HENG: [immediately] shh, i'm here.
CEE: [barely coherent, nuzzling cheek against chest] missed you... tried to wait... study group went so late...
their words dissolve back into sleep but their hand finds his wrist. holds. refuses to let go even as dreams reclaim them.
dan heng can't help but look at their joined hands, his own scarred from web-fluid burns and rooftop landings, theirs soft and ink-stained from pursuing knowledge, and he begins to think about complementary forces; how opposites don't always repel and sometimes, often times, complete.
the web-shooters come off. set beside their phone: i'm staying.
DAN HENG: [settling beside them, allowing himself this] just for a little while.
but when they immediately burrow into his side, head finding the hollow beneath his jaw, arm draping across his ribs, he knows it's a lie.
his arms come around them. tight and sure and wholly and entirely his.
CEE: [mumbling into his neck] you smell like outside.
DAN HENG: [soft huff of almost-laughter] and you smell like highlighters.
CEE: [the tiniest giggle] gross.
DAN HENG: [pressing his lips to their crown, breathing them in] ... perfect.
the city glitters beyond the window, alive with sirens and searchlights and people who need saving. it will have to wait. because right now, the only person who needs him is here, warm and precious and trusting him with their softness.
DAN HENG: [in a whispered promise] i got you.
and in sleep, cee smiles.
— @danhcees my guiding ceestar, my dear heart, WELCOME TO UR TWINKLING TWENTIES !!!!!! where do i even begin!!! with u!!!!!!! wah cee i just think u are like sunshine breaking through the clouds <3333 u bring so much light to others!!!! even just watching u from afar and seeing how u brighten up everyone's day on the dashboard with ur kindness and enthusiasm!!!!!!! it makes my heart feel so full and proud to be able to call u a friend c: ik you've been working so very hard lately with ur studies sobsob--ur dedication is truly admirable but i hope u remember to be gentle w urself too okay!!! u deserve rest and care just as much as u deserve to chase ur dreams, and i know if not for me saying this, then surely mister dan heng will!!!!! :D i hoped to capture that at least a little here..... a moment where he sees how hard u work and loves u for exactly who u are, despite the tired eyes and coffee cups and drool sticking to the adorable corner of ur mouth!!!! u deserve to be held tenderly and told you're doing wonderfully always . to know that even when you're exhausted or anxious or just trying ur best, you are so much more than enough!!!!! <3333333 may ur twenties be filled with the same warmth n care u give so freely to others my angel!!! thank u for being such a beautiful presence in this world, and in my life ;u; i am so so grateful to u!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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