taking turns all over my dreams

Miharu's first thought is 'ah, it's warm' and then nothing for a few precious breaths, sleep still clinging to most of his thoughts, the warmth of the bed and the room perfect to keep on just sleeping, perhaps because it feels as if there is nothing that could be more important than keep on going with his eyes closed.

And still, awareness steals from his rest enough that Miharu feels then, on his back, someone else breathing, the unmistakable shape of an arm around his body.

He startles away at that, twisting, turning, ready to get a kunai or a shuriken or--

"... 'haru?" Yoite asks, blinking up slowly, blue eyes sleepy and his expression confused and Miharu forgets how to breath.

Yoite frowns, moving to sit down and his hand feels warm against his face when he touches him. Warm and real and there, and Yoite frowns when he feels him shaking, moves his other hand to cradle his face.

"... did you have a nightmare?"

Miharu thinks there might be something wrong. There's something he's missing, a clue or a jutsu or something, but he doesn't care: Yoite is there holding his face, corporeal and real and okay. "Yes," he says instead and collapses forward, grabs desperately at Yoite's shoulder blades and he clings as he sobs against his chest.

Yoite freezes at first, but then he hugs him, awkwardly and uncertain but he feels like Yoite and he smells like Yoite, and it's his voice when he promises Miharu that it was just a dream, that everything is okay and right then, Miharu decides he doesn't care about anything else as long as those words are true. Yoite touches his back carefully, his hair, moves as if he didn't know how to comfort him, his voice low and only for him and Miharu feels like crying and laughing, both at the same time.

"It's okay," he says instead, once he's able to talk. He shakes his head, keeps close to Yoite. His face feels sticky and his throat hurts, and he's smiling so much that his face feels weird. "It's okay, Yoite."

"A-ah..." Yoite starts, and despite the fact that he's being held by him, Miharu looks ups, finds Yoite blinking at him, a little confused, perhaps, and startled.

And because Miharu doesn't want to question anything right then, like why Yoite is in his bedroom and in his bed and how can this be real when the only important thing is for this to be, he leans forward, brushing his lips against Yoite's, uncertain on how to do this and caring nothing at all about that.

Yoite trembles, suddenly tense, but when Miharu opens his eyes he mostly finds him blushing, staring at him with blue eyes gone wide, almost no pupil in his surprise. Miharu almost giggles at that, feeling perhaps a little too giddy and that doubles when he does it again, Yoite shivers before he sort of moves against him, kisses clumsily back, and the same something's happening from before comes back into Miharu's brain because Yoite's kiss doesn't taste like blood.

I don't care, Miharu thinks, perhaps a little bit desperately. It was all a nightmare, a bad dream, something he ate or something he saw, because there is no way that that was real when here he has Yoite sighing softly against his mouth as they both learn how to kiss, pressing slow kiss after slow kiss, shivering when Yoite's hands - without gloves,and his hands feel so cool and soft and there are no marks there, nothing but smooth, pale skin – move carefully down his back and then up his side, touching the skin of his waist a little from where his shirt has ride up.

This is the real deal, Miharu thinks, half defying anyone or anything to prove him wrong, half not caring. Instead he presses close to Yoite as he feels himself growing aroused, and he breathes a little hard against Yoite's neck. When that makes the other teen shiver Miharu smiles a little before he does it again, and once more before he presses his lips to Yoite's neck – his unscarred neck, nothing but the white column of it – where he can feel his pulse going on strong and steady.

"Miharu..." Yoite moans, his voice still low, only for him to hear and Miharu almost chokes at how tender his name sounds when Yoite says it like that.

The room is still warm and yet Miharu feels himself shivering, pressing close to Yoite, tangling their legs together, and as he kisses Yoite's neck, tastes salty sweat there and then he gasps, just a little, as Yoite's hand settles on his waist.

"I want," Miharu says, not really sure of what. More, this; to Yoite's hands to keep on touching the skin of his belly, for Yoite's long fingers to slide underneath his shorts, for more of Yoite's blue eyes looking at him forever, and when he looks at him again, Yoite's eyes are on his. "Yoite..."

He comes with Yoite's name on his lips, and then he feels Yoite trembling against him too.

"Yoite, you..." Yoite just smiles at him, sweet and soft, before leaning forward, resting his head against his chest, just murmuring his name.

"Stay," Miharu whispers, turning his face against Yoite's head, against the softness of his hair, eyes closed. "Stay with me."

Miharu holds him close, presses his fingers against Yoite's shoulder blades so that they are as close as possible, so that there is no way to Yoite is not there with him, so that he can ignore the voice that keeps on telling him this is nothing but a dream.