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Satoru lies back in the grass, closing his eyes and lazily slumping his arm over them to shield them from the light of the sunset. He feels a little guilty in doing so because it was Suguru’s idea to come all the way here and see the sunset. And, it’s beautiful, really! It was a great idea, it was just that today’s mission took a toll on Satoru; and, most of the times, when that happens, his eyelids start feeling numb and prickly and even the slightest ray of light makes Satoru’s head throb with pain.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Of course Suguru asks him that because Suguru is always looking out for him. Even if Satoru made it decidedly clear that he did not like being taken care of, Suguru still worries about him and shows Satoru how much he cares almost every day. And as annoying as it might be, it’s reassuring — to know that there is one person in this world who does not take his well being for granted just because he is the strongest.
“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Satoru mumbles, hurling himself upwards to look at Suguru. “Just tired, that’s all.” The way Suguru studies his face makes Satoru feel all fuzzy; his dark gaze reflects upon his face the way the night encompasses the sky with its still, lifeless beauty.
“Your eyes are hurting again, aren’t they?” The flutter Satoru’s heart does is surprising and it makes Satoru almost flinch; he hates when Suguru knows exactly what’s wrong and he hates it even more when he points it out.
“How’d you know, man?” he questions back in a whining tone, trying to avoid Suguru’s eyes. He sets back on the grass, suddenly all too aware of the way Suguru is moving towards him. Even the shadow of Suguru feels like a pulsing weight against his chest.
With his eyes closed, his other senses feel heightened so it’s no surprise that he can hear the faint sound coming from… Suguru rubbing his palms together? It most definitely sounds like that is what he is doing but he is not entirely sure. Then, out of nowhere, hot skin presses against his eyes, not hard enough to make them hurt. Instead, the warmth of Suguru’s palm and the comforting darkness surrounding him makes the pressure go away, if only for just a little bit.
“Just count to a hundred, okay? And then I’ll take them away. It should probably feel better.”
Satoru starts counting, almost out of instinct, but then gets bored half-way. How did you even know about this?” The shrug Suguru lets out is almost too quiet to hear.
“I just searched it up. There were also some more exercises that you could do, kind of like going to the gym but for the eyes.”
“What, what are you even talking about?”
Satoru is loud. Most of the time he is inexplicably loud. But when he is with Suguru he is even louder than usual and sometimes it makes him want to clench on in himself and disappear because he knows Suguru likes quiet. Quiet places, probably quiet people. But he never says anything about Satoru, he never tells him to stop talking so loudly, or stop laughing so boisterously and Satoru can’t help but get drunk on that little something that doesn’t actually exist.
He laughs so loudly that when he stops doing so his mouth hurts with emptiness. And then Suguru speaks or does something, or he just exists and Satoru feels so full, suddenly, full of love he sometimes is afraid that when he laughs it will spill out of him along with all of the secrets he tries to keep at bay.
“Like, you know, moving your eyes from left to the right. Up and down. Uhm, there was something else but I can’t remember.” Satoru is sure that by now more than a hundred seconds have passed — not that he counted, he wanted Suguru’s hands and warmth on him for as long as the other would give them to him — but whatever. Whatever, right?
Like this, he can’t help but imagine how it would feel if Suguru just leaned a little bit forward, just a little bit more, and then pressed his lips to Satoru’s lips, just for a second.
A gust of cold wind puts an end to all of Satoru’s empty dreams. He takes his hand away from his eyes, the sleeve of his uniform a little bit wet. The night has long decided to wrap everything in its darkness, but Satoru can’t shake the feeling of orange sun glowing against his skin, of warm hands against his eyes which are hurting so badly without someone to help him. The sound his palms make against each other is so loud, way too loud. Satoru doesn’t want to be loud when Suguru isn’t there to hear him.
He presses them against his eyes but they are still cold so he stops. Maybe the memory that is still shining like gold in his mind will keep him warm enough for such a cold summer night.