"I can see the Plough," Eiji gasped, letting the mattress thud onto the coarse rooftop floor. He strode forward, head tipped back, eyes wide with wonder as they traced the constellations above.

"Careful," Ash said, shaking out the ripped blanket before spreading it over the mattress. "The edges aren’t in the best shape."

Eiji halted mid-step. His shoulders twitched at the sight of the crumbling rooftop rim, jagged and weather-worn. He took an exaggerated step back, and, just as quickly, his gaze lifted skyward again.

Ash glanced around, listening. A green coat of treetops stretched below them, no streetlights, no distant hum of traffic; just the gentle rustling of the leaves and the occasional call of some insomniac bird. From up here, they were invisible, tucked away beneath the vast, open sky. No one watching. No one following.

It's been a while.

"I wish I had a tripod," Eiji said, his back straight, head tilted up.

“Tripod?” Ash plopped onto the mattress. “Why?" 

Eiji turned to him, dimples flashing. "With a tripod I could set my camera to capture the trails of the stars moving across the sky, using this long-exposure technique," he explained, hands drawing a circle. "It makes you see time differently, you know?" His face lit up with awe, and Ash once again wished he had a camera to capture it. "It's like proof that the earth is moving. Constantly. Even when we feel stuck." He stopped abruptly, blushing. "Sorry. I got into it again."

Ash found himself smiling. "I don’t mind."

Eiji hesitated, then smiled back, softer this time. He sat down on the mattress beside Ash, close enough that their knees almost touched. "I've taken many photos like that back in Izumo." His gaze flickered skyward, then down, his voice quieter. "I wish I could show them to you."

Ash's stomach twisted.

Not 'You should come see them.'
Not 'I will show you.'
Just, I wish I could show you.

Like Ash only deserved the photos. 

It's not that Eiji had meant to say that, of course. He didn't have a single mean bone in his body, and Ash knew it. It was all on him, on Ash. He was a freaking moron who couldn't, for the love of god, enjoy this moment, so perfect it would probably never happen again. And time was ticking.

Ash swallowed the feeling. "Do you go stargazing often?" 

"All the time." Eiji said. "The nights there are clearer than anything in this city. I’d sit outside for hours, just watching."

"Sounds beautiful."

"Oh, it is." Eiji’s smile grew wistful as he rested his elbows on his lap, his head cradled in between his palms. "Stargazing always makes me feel small, but not in a bad way. More like..." He froze, as if deciding whether Ash was deserving to hear the rest of it. "Like I belong to something bigger, you know?"

Ash didn’t know.

He had never belonged anywhere. 

"Do you miss it?" Ash asked, his voice suddenly silent, heavier. "Home?"

Eiji went quiet. Just for a moment. But the pause lingered in Ash’s chest longer than it should have. "I do."

What was he expecting to hear?

Ash clenched his jaw, something aching in his ribs. He exhaled through his nose and lay back on the mattress, folding his arms behind his head, staring up at the sky like he hadn’t just been wounded by his own greed. 

Eiji sat quietly beside him, unbothered, head raised. From this angle, he looked so much taller. Almost unreachable. 

The silence was growing heavier. Ash was already thinking of what he should say to lighten the mood, but, suddenly, Eiji let out a loud gasp. "Oh my gosh! Did you see that?" He pointed to a dark spot in the sky where a star had just fallen. He turned to Ash. "Did you make a wish?" 

“Uh, no?”

Eiji gave him a concerned look. “You still have time. Do it.”

A wish.

Ash hadn’t had one in a long time. Or so he thought. Things were different now, he realized that. Everything Ash could have ever dreamed of was sitting right besides him. But it was just a matter of time until it all turned to dust.

Ash could wish for him to stay by his side forever, of course. For Eiji to love him, like crazy. But even the sheer thought of it was so criminally vulgar. Ash didn’t deserve any of it.

Not even the thoughts.

"So?" Eiji asked.

"Hmm." Ash noticed he had been biting his lip, a faint metallic flavor melting on his tongue. “One wish, right?”

Eiji nodded.

Thinking, Ash drew in a slow, steady breath, feeling the sharp night in his lungs. If Ash had to make a wish, one wish, he would gladly trade all of his selfish desires for him.

For Eiji to be happy. 

"I wish fo—" 

"No!" Eiji yelped. "If you say it out loud, it won't come true."

Ash furrowed his brows, mischief gleaming on his cheeks. "You're just too embarrassed to tell me your wish, aren't you?"

Eiji scratched the back of his neck. "No. I don't make the rules."

"C'mon, tell me."

Eiji stuck his tongue out. "Never."

"I bet it's a lifetime supply of those nasty gooey beans you cannot get enough of," Ash said, grinning.

"Natto?" Eiji let out a sharp laugh, the mattress shaking beneath him. "That's a good one. But no." 

Ash kept his lips curled, but, besides the blood, he could taste the bitterness oozing from within. Eiji had probably wished to go home. Alone.

"Do you think we'll see more falling stars?" Eiji asked.

"Probably." 

Eiji carefully lowered his camera on the ground. "Cannot wait," he said eagerly, and lay down beside Ash, arms and legs stretched long.

Ash had expected Eiji to do so, but not right next to him. He was close. Too close. If Ash turned his head, their faces would be just inches apart.

Ash forced a dry gulp.

"It's cold," Eiji said, pulling the blanket from underneath.

"Don't—" Ash wanted to warn him about the smell, but by the time he spoke, Eiji had already pulled it up, wrinkling his nose.

"Why does it smell like a wet dog?" Eiji gave Ash a disguised look.

"Well, it most likely was used by one. Or two. Who knows."

"Eww, gross." Eiji dramatically dropped the blanket so that it only covered his legs. "Just. Gross." 

Ash smirked, putting on his best posh accent. "My deepest regrets, dear sir, but it appears that this prestigious establishment has, alas, ran out of freshly laundered linens."

"What kind of establishment runs out of clean blankets? Sir?"

Ash pointed to the sky. "The one without a roof?"

"Truly, a tragedy of the highest order," Eiji said, imitating Ash's speech.

They shared a playful look, and burst out laughing in unison.

"That was the worst British accent I've ever heard," Ash said, fighting hints of laughter still lingering on his face. "You're awful!"

"Give me a break." Eiji was wheezing. "I'm an old man, remember?" 

Under the pearly moonlight, his flushed cheeks appeared to be deep, crimson red, painted by the laughter and the cool evening air. And when their eyes finally met, for a brief minute, Ash saw the entire galaxy in Eiji's eyes, breathtaking and limitless. God, he was beautiful.

And so close.

Ash's chest tensed, and he quickly averted his gaze back to the sky. "British accent doesn't suit you. Like, at all."

"You're saying I'm not fancy enough for you?"

"Quite the contrary.” Ash sneered. “As a hotel manager, sir, I have to inform you that you are the most insufferably pampered guest I have ever had the misfortune to accommodate."

Eiji's laughter echoed like a sweet melody. "Oh, you're so getting that one star review." He then cleared his throat, voice softer. "But, on a serious note. Thank you for this." Ash didn't have to face him, to feel a gentle smile curling on Eiji’s lips. "I really needed it." Eiji then adjusted his position, chilly fingertips briefly brushing through Ash's hand.

Ash froze. "Uhh, no worries."

"Do you come here often?"

"Not much. Just special occasions."

"Special, like…" Eiji's tone seemed suddenly flustered, lower. "Do you mean, like, you come here with people. To. You know."

Ash blinked, his brain stalling for a moment. “Wait, what?” It took him a good second to piece together what Eiji had just implied. And when it hit, a strange mix of surprise and something else—warmer, more dangerous—curled in his chest. "No, no, no" Ash blurted, shaking his head, suddenly hyper-aware of how still he was lying, like moving too much would make this conversation even more awkward. "It's my special place. I wouldn't risk losing it."

"Oh. Is it okay for me to be here, then?"

More than okay, Ash wanted to say, but he stopped himself. "Yes," he said.

"I'm glad." 

Ash tried to come up with a lighthearted comeback, something sharp and effortless, but when Eiji's fingers briefly touched his hand again, landing just a whisper away from his, Ash forgot how to breathe.

He knew those hands by memory. He knew how steady they were, whether wrapped around a camera or reaching out to catch Ash's attention. Today he also learned how quickly they warmed up in his own hands, and how they felt too—how safe.

It would be so easy.

So easy to close the distance. To let his pinky brush against Eiji’s, just lightly, like it was an accident.

A mistake he wouldn't correct.

The anticipation alone made his skin burn.

Ash inhaled sharply, forcing his fingers to stay still, to stay disciplined, to not—

And then, before he could even process what was happening, Eiji moved.

Just barely.

And his fingers—soft, unguarded—found Ash’s hand.

A cool stray touch, light as a snowflake, wrapping around him.

Melting into his burning skin.

Ash’s body tensed.

It wasn’t an accident.

Eiji was holding his hand.

Deliberately.

Ash's pulse stuttered, then raced, then settled into a slow, intoxicating warmth pulsing through his veins. He felt slightly lightheaded.

Get it together, idiot.

Ash cleared his throat, struggling to keep his grip steady. Firm. Normal. 

“You’re warm,” Eiji noted softly.

Ash took a shallow breath and forced out a quiet chuckle, playing it cool. “You’re just cold.”

Eiji hummed in response, seemingly unbothered. “Maybe.” He then squeezed Ash’s hand. 

Ash felt blood rushing into his cheeks. 

Did he… Did Eiji feel the same?

God.

No.

How old was he? Twelve? Ash had done vile things no human being should ever do. He was covered in filth, had drowned in filth for years. And now he was flustered because he was helping Eiji stay warm?

Ash fucking Lynx. 

A guy who dodged bullets couldn't handle holding a hand.

Suddenly, Ash felt Eiji’s gaze on him. He slowly turned his head, meeting Eiji's eyes, solemn and darker than the night itself. “You’ll miss all of the falling stars if you keep staring at me,” Ash said, hoping his voice sounded casual. It probably didn't.

Eiji’s face lit up bright red, but he didn’t break eye contact. “I don’t mind,” Eiji said quietly, but with a certain note. “I’d rather look at you.”

Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck.

If Ash wasn’t blushing before, now he definitely was. He didn't know where to look, what to say or what to do. He should’ve come up with something—anything—to brush it off, to keep his fucking heart from leaping out of his chest. But he couldn't.

Eiji wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t teasing.

Did he…

“Ash…” Eiji whispered, barely moving his lips.

His lips.

A faint gust of wind caressed Ash's hair before his mind went comfortably numb.

One second, he was staring at Eiji like he was something Ash would never deserve. The next, he had closed the distance, pressing his lips against Eiji’s, like he owned him.

Nothing felt real. Nothing but him, sweet and heady, melting on Ash's tongue. 

His new favorite flavor. 

A quiet groan escaped Ash's lips. He pressed himself closer, kissing him, drinking him.

Eiji trembled under Ash’s grip, and, suddenly, pushed him away.

And just like that—reality came crashing down.

Shit.