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Ash breathed in the warm night air. The grass was cool against his bare back, the warmth it had gathered from the sun having dissipated in the hours since sunset. Away from all the light of the city, the sky that stretched out above him was littered with countless stars, burning bright and familiar.
Despite all his misgivings about returning to Cape Cod, Ash had to admit that it was nice to have a moment to just breathe. To just exist under the same stars he had once gazed at with Griff. The cape was still and quiet compared to bustling Manhattan. He could almost, almost feel safe here, like he was just a kid again.
Slow footsteps crunched in the grass coming down the hill from the house, and the peaceful moment dissolved around him as his instincts focused in on the figure approaching. The steps were soft, though. Hesitant. Non-threatening. Eiji.
Ash tilted his head back to look up the hill at him. Eiji seemed to gain confidence as their eyes met, and he took a more decisive step forward.
“You are looking at stars?”
Ash smiled and sat up. The grass had left an imprint carved delicately into the skin of his back, and a few stray blades were woven into his messy hair. “Yeah,” he answered. “You can see them a lot better here than in the city.”
Eiji sat down beside him and gazed upward. The stars reflected in his eyes, and Ash found himself much more fixated on the image before him now than the constellations above.
“They are beautiful,” Eiji said gently.
Ash let himself fall back on the hillside again, his arms folded under his head. “Are they this beautiful in Japan?”
Eiji also lowered himself onto the grass, his arms sprawled out at his sides. “In my hometown, you can see them clearly like this, and they are just as beautiful. They are same stars.” He paused, smiling up at the expanse. “Same stars my parents and sister see. That is how people can be connected, no matter where they are in the world, isn’t it?”
Ash snorted. “You’re getting a little too sentimental on me there, Eiji.” Eiji turned his head to look at Ash and frowned, puffing his cheeks out a little. Ash laughed, and they briefly fell into silence.
“You’ve got a point, though, I guess,” Ash admitted after a minute. “I used to come out here to look at the stars with Griff. It’s sort of comforting to know the stars are still the same, even if nothing else is.”
Eiji’s gaze turned to him again, his eyes alight with curiosity. “You liked stars when you were a child?”
“Yeah, I guess I was a little fascinated by them. Griff was a poet, he liked looking at the stars to gather inspiration.” He felt his face soften, smiling fondly at the memory. “I liked joining him. It was exciting to stay out late at night.”
Eiji rolled onto his side, facing Ash as he spoke to drink in every word.
“Once, when the moon was big and full, Griff convinced me it would fall down and crush us if we didn’t keep a close eye on it. I stayed out all night just staring at the moon, determined I wouldn’t let it out of my sight until the sun came up. I fell asleep, though. Griff brought me in.”
Eiji laughed. “You believed him?”
Ash felt heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. He turned to face Eiji defensively. “I was five!”
Eiji only laughed harder, and Ash pinched his nose before giving in to a small chuckle. Eiji shoved Ash’s hand away from his face, turning onto his back once more to look up at the sky. His arm draped carelessly over Ash’s own. When Ash copied him to face skyward as well, Eiji’s bicep, exposed outside his tank top, rested comfortably against the side of Ash’s chest.
It was almost too warm, with skin against skin in the humid summer air, but Ash didn’t shy away from it. Eiji’s touch requested nothing from him. It was chaste and easy, and so different from most any touch Ash had known. As they fell again into silence, Ash found himself inching nearer, seeking more contact. He hadn’t realized how much he craved this pure, honest affection.
Ash’s hand met Eiji’s, resting languidly over it rather than grasping tight, and, as if given permission, Eiji’s head found Ash’s shoulder.
The only sound Ash had heard for hours was the clacking of keys beneath his fingers. Inputting and reviewing information they had, outlining what they didn’t know, and searching for answers. Again, and again, and again, the loop continued. He had lost track of time; there was too much on his mind to join the others in sleep.
Takka takka takka…
There was movement in the doorway. Ash knew at once that it was Eiji. His fingers made no pause on the keyboard, determined to get his remaining thoughts out, to fit them together like pieces of a puzzle.
Eiji’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, and finally, the clacking of the keys ceased. Ash took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and looked up at Eiji.
“How long are you going to work?” Eiji asked, leaning down close over Ash’s shoulder to peer at the computer screen. “It is already late at night.”
Ash rolled his shoulders, leaning back against Eiji. “Well, there’s a lot to look over.”
“Everyone is worn out from training with you. You are not tired?”
Ash smirked. “Not even a little.”
“You are lying,” Eiji chastised, frowning at him. “You will work yourself to death, Ash.”
“Nah, death won’t take me that easily.”
Eiji rested his chin on Ash’s shoulder, pouting. “Come for fresh air, at least. You sit in here for so long.”
Ash had to admit that a stretch and a change of scenery might do him some good. He hummed, and finally assented. “Yeah, alright.”
He shut down the computer and followed Eiji up to the roof. Out in the crisp night air, Ash raised his arms up over his head and stretched, feeling his shoulders pop satisfyingly. He brought his arms back down and sighed.
Eiji was looking up at the sky searchingly. Ash quirked an eyebrow.
“Hoping to see a UFO?”
“Huh?” Eiji tore his gaze from the sky to meet Ash’s eyes instead. “I was thinking of how we could see the stars in Cape Cod. It is too bad we can’t see them well here.”
“Yeah, the city’s too bright.” Ash ran a hand through his hair and yawned, his eyes shutting momentarily. When he opened them again, Eiji was grinning at him.
“The city just has different stars!”
Ash frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Eiji pointed to the North, and Ash turned around. Beyond the cracked, dirty rooftops of the Lower East side, the city lights of Midtown spread out before them. The skyscrapers twinkled and glowed, while the headlights on the streets moved and changed in a constant rhythm.
Eiji came to stand beside him near the North edge of the roof, staring out at the lights. It was a familiar scene to Ash. Manhattan’s lights were nothing new, and yet he felt like he was viewing them with a new appreciation.
“These aren’t the same stars as in Japan, though,” Ash pointed out, taking a seat on the edge of the rooftop and letting his legs dangle off the side. “Your parents and sister can’t see them.”
Eiji carefully took a seat beside him, their sides pressed flush together. “That makes them even more special,” Eiji said. “These stars are unique to New York. They are stars I have gotten to know with you, Ash.”
Ash felt a smile tug at his lips. Sitting here with Eiji, he felt all his troubles leave him, at least for the moment. No matter what was to come, for now, they were both here; not just under the same stars, but before the same city lights.
Ash took Eiji’s hand and leaned against his side. As he had countless times now, Ash found himself longing to be closer to Eiji, to break through his fumbling misunderstanding of touch and just let himself be held by someone who wanted nothing more than to hold him. He turned his face away from the view of the city and rested his forehead on Eiji’s shoulder.
Eiji gently leaned his cheek against the top of Ash’s head, and Ash let out a small sigh, his breath tickling Eiji’s neck. An arm wrapped around Ash’s shoulders, and he closed his eyes. He felt safe, warm, content at Eiji’s side, in his arms. He had never once felt threatened by Eiji’s touch—and suddenly, he thought he might like it if Eiji kissed him.
He and Eiji had kissed once before, but the circumstances were entirely different than they were now. Ash’s mind had been set on delivering a message, he hadn’t lingered on the details of Eiji’s lips. Back then, he never would have thought that he would wind up trusting Eiji the amount he did now.
It’s more than trust, even. I love him.
Hardly shifting the rest of his body, Ash pressed a single, gentle kiss to the side of Eiji’s neck. He listened closely as Eiji exhaled, hardly daring to move. Eiji’s hand on his shoulder lifted, and for a terrifying moment Ash thought he was pulling away—but it touched down again in Ash’s hair, running his fingers through his blonde locks. Eiji’s lips brushed the top of his head.
Ash lifted his head to look at him, and found their faces irresistibly close. Eiji’s eyes were wide, mirroring Ash’s surprise. Perhaps for the first time, Ash felt a sensation he could only describe as butterflies.
Eiji’s hand was still in his hair. He remained quite still, watching and waiting for Ash to make a decision; to make a move or pull away. Ash could read the trust and the love in his eyes clearly and openly. He could feel his own heart pounding in his chest. He met Eiji’s lips with his own.
This time, there was no mission to be accomplished. There was no message in a capsule. Everything they had been fighting for, all the good and the bad, the entire world around them melted from the front of Ash’s mind, and all that remained was the way Eiji gave into him, and the subtle taste of congee that remained on his tongue.
Eiji’s hands didn’t wander. He kept one in his hair, but his fingers remained gentle. There was no fist full of blonde locks, no force, not even a gentle tug. His other hand clung lightly to Ash’s sleeve. When Ash broke the kiss, Eiji’s hand slid at last from the back of Ash’s head, and over his chest until his palm rested over his beating heart. Ash’s own hand rested on the side of Eiji’s jaw, his fingertips rubbing softly at the hair behind his ear. Although it was too dark to see properly, Ash could feel the heat radiating from Eiji’s cheeks.
God, I would do absolutely anything for him.
Ash smirked at Eiji, watching him lean his face into Ash’s touch. “You’re lucky,” he said slyly. “I’ve been told my tongue is like velvet, you know. Did I take your breath away?”
Eiji shook his head, his smooth cheek rubbing against Ash’s hand. “It does not have anything to do with that. You take my breath away anyway.”
Ash’s smug demeanor came crashing down around him. He hadn’t realized that he was instinctively building a wall between them, trying to shield the sheer amount of vulnerability he was unaccustomed to. His boastful comment had been nothing but a brick in that wall, but Eiji had successfully demolished it before he could even cement the first layer.
Eiji smiled at him, and Ash realized he was staring stupidly into Eiji’s eyes. He blushed and dropped his hand from Eiji’s jaw. Eiji took this as a hint and pulled his hand back from Ash’s chest, and Ash immediately regretted moving at all. The winter air felt unbelievably cold over his heart in the absence of Eiji’s hand. Ash grabbed his hand before it could move too far away.
For as long as he had known Eiji, he had fought with himself over pushing Eiji away to safety, or pulling him close and never letting go.
For tonight, he wouldn’t let go.
Please don’t ever go too far from me.
“We should go inside, Ash,” Eiji said, rubbing Ash’s hand between both of his own. “The wind is cold out here.”
Ash put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close again, spreading warmth between them. “No, it’s not.”
Eiji relaxed against him, and they watched their personal Manhattan stars burn on through the night.