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Gentle footfalls padded along the cold wooden floorboards of the old Japanese house. Thin socks protected his feet from the cold, though not by much. He would have worn his slippers but had neglected them as he was lost in thought. Practiced steps showed the ease the small Japanese man walked along the house, comfortable and familiar with every space and room attached. Even when it was dark and there was no light, the steps were unhesitant, confident that he would not bump into anything and certain that he would reach his destination with no trouble at all.
The footsteps paused when they reached a certain door of a certain room where a certain man was enclosed inside. No, not enclosed. His house would and could never enclose him. It would never be a prison for him. That he had silently promised himself when they had become closer.
What were they anyway....?
He never really knew. They were not simply friends even though they did not speak to each other as much as they did to others. At the same time they were not in a romantic relationship either, though they often met outside alone just to spend some time with each other. While they had slept on each other's beds before they were not lovers. They were not exclusive even though he knew that the other would have no eyes for anyone else if he asked and vice versa. They were also not owned or tethered to each other through any vows or promises even as they went to each other's house for company and cooked each other breakfast. Even when he knew the exact way that he liked his coffee in the morning. Even when the other knew exactly when to draw a hot bath in the evening to help him relax after work. There was nothing particularly special between them.
And yet there was.
It was the air between them, thick and heavy and intense even in the lightest moment whenever their eyes caught and held in a silent gaze.
It was the warmth that grew from anything and everything the other did to show that they were thinking of each other, from a simple text to greet them good morning or the presence of a bowl of soup in the office during a busy day.
It was the feeling of peace, serenity and contentment as they had their hands touch each other for no real reason other than that it was cold and neither had remembered to bring gloves.
It was the sparks that flew when they whisper each other's name in the middle of the night during the light conversations as they waited for each other to fall asleep.
It was real. It was heavy. It was intangible. It was there.
But it wasn't.
But it was.
It was confusing, and Kiku didn't like to dwell on it so much. He knocked on the door, three gentle taps that he was sure the other would be able to hear. It was night, but his friend wouldn't be sleeping yet.
Funny that he already memorised the sleep schedule of a friend.
Funny that a friend would always wait past a certain time to sleep in the case he came.
"Kiku, come in. You don't need to knock" came the deep and smooth voice of his friend.
"It is only polite that I knock and ask first" he said in reply as he opened the door and stepped in. He looked around. The lights were off, but he knew where the bed was and the number of steps it would take from the door to it.
The bed dipped slightly from his weight.
"Could I ask for your company a while..?" he asked softly.
"Only if you make yourself comfortable. I'm planning to sleep. I have a full day tomorrow" was the answer.
On someone else, those words would be thought of as cold and a dismissal. However on him... after many a misunderstanding, did he recognise an invitation.
"Then please excuse the intrusion...." But he didn't lie down. Instead he gazed at where his friend would be lying on the bed, blankets wrapped around him. It was dark so he could hardly see but a silhouette. It was always dark when they did this. It didn't matter whose house or who went to who. It was always dark and he would always wonder how he would look like. The expressions on his face. Would there be a blush? Or sleepy contentment..? Or.. Would it be bored and tired... and that he was the only one who sought comfort..?
Kiku bit his lip slightly and frowned to himself as thoughts whirled through his mind. What were they? What was going on? What did he think? What if all of this was just his own fantasy? What if-
He couldn't finish that thought as the bed shifted and he found warm, strong arms circling his own smaller leaner body. Kiku didn't blush as he felt a face press into his neck, but he did feel much warmer than before. He slowly leaned back to the touch, relaxing as a small smile slowly crept on his face and his thoughts flew away.
Warm. Content. Satisfaction. Safe. Gentle. Care. Joy.
How could he think those thoughts in the face of such feelings?
He didn't know when he was suddenly laying down, but he was and he just moved backward to further press himself against the muscled chest. He closed his eyes for a while, enjoying the feel of those warm arms around his waist, his hot breath that tickled his neck slightly and the feeling of being covered like a small child with a safety blanket. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, relaxing into the touch. The feelings only intensified as he felt the arms tighten slightly more, not to be constrictive, but similar to him slightly. Like a child hiding behind a pillow away from what dangers lay out there. His smile widened slightly.
They stayed like that for a few minutes.
"Kiku...?"
"Yes...?"
"Are you going to sleep soon?"
"I will. Soon."
They would stay like this for a while more.
"Lud-kun...?"
"Hmm...?"
By this time the tiredness of his friend would be obvious from the drowsy slurring.
"Could you let go of me for a while..?"
The arms would obediently loosen and Kiku would allow himself to sit up and arrange the blankets so that it would be covering both. Then he would lie back down, this time facing his friend. When he was suitably relaxed, the arms would circle him again and pull him in close. He would wrap his own arms around the broad shoulders of the young nation, barely grown to be an adult, still childlike in many ways though already so mature through suffering and experience, and gently stroke the golden strands of hair, cradling the head that was pressed to his chest.
He would curl up against him just as the German had already curled up around himself and try to wrap himself around him in a protective embrace, guarding his youngling from what horrors could be, even if only in his dreams.
When he was comfortable and could feel the welcoming embrace of slumber, he would curl up a tad bit more and almost always accidentally or not, have his lips brush against blond strands of hair.
"Good night, Lud-kun..."
There would be no answer.
They both would sleep the night away peacefully.