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the dormant weight on his chest—arm awakens from it, no longer reeling in a dream of black and white and grey and tears and silent miseries.
it feels like he has returned after straying afar, finally finding the path home. and it's no longer alarming. the epiphany isn't confusingly jarring. it's the finality that arm has been chasing for years. now as clear as day.
oh.
he blinks the sleepiness away from his still-squinted eyes, rubbing at the crusty corners, feeling a bit here and there and everywhere as the friendly rays of light cloud the comfort of these four walls, passing through the thrown-down curtains, raining gold on the floor, against their scattered clothes, their adjoined bodies, naked and raw from the intensity of last night's endeavour. arm heaves a content sigh, feeling his throat dry, lips chapped, bones ache, but his heart sated—loved.
oh.
arm wonders why his chest feels unbearably light, the tightness dissipated with the pale moonlight, no longer carrying the burden of those agonising yesterdays, now free in the recess of the jolliest forevermore, not a captive of regret and fear. so his wandering gaze lands on the strong arms circling his waist, up to his bosom, and ah—phi arc.
he remembers now. he recalls just how much he loved arc last night. he knows he loves arc more today.
red covers arm's skin in the shape of arc's mouth, all over his neck, down to his chest, around his nipples, sprawled on his stomach, heading south, to his groin and thighs. he notices every stroke of vibrancy arc bestows on his once-colourless figure, never deserving. but now, he's shining—he's brimming.
arm blushes at the thought of arc consuming him whole, moans and groans and promises arm believes arc would always keep, now becoming him—now arm's entire being. and he'll carry them—he'll keep arc safe—he'll bring arc anywhere.
and it's liberating. to love and be loved. to let go and hold on. to forget and create something new. to give and receive. to cherish and remember.
arm never knew he could leave his daunting past in the gutter and took arc's hands as they moved forward, leading to places filled with rainbows and fireworks. but if tears fall and they make mistakes while on this tumultuous journey, heaven and hell distorting, it's okay. arm learns they can handle and overcome everything, as long as they're together. arc and arm. only them and no one else.
the smile rises from his lips like the gentle morning sun, dancing along the sky-blue canvas beyond. waves upon waves of pleasure wash over him, relishing the coldness of the AC, savouring the hotness of arc's presence by his side. and arm rides the benign tides by tracing the protruding veins of arc's muscular arms, feeling the safest he has ever been in someone's embrace, the happiest he has ever lived in a lover's hold.
and arm wishes he could stay here longer than a promise of happily ever after. he hopes he can be with arc for more than forever.
yet he accidentally locks eyes with arc whilst drifting in this sea of pink and yellow, a deer standing in front of this blinding headlight, cracking those visages of their beautiful tomorrows with the knowing smirk on arc's face. the little voice in arm's head commands him to turn away and close his eyes, warning signs now flashing red.
act natural! he won't notice!
arc scoffs.
oh, he did notice.
arm hears it loud and clear, the brewing laughter from arc, echoing in the chambers of his thundering heart. but it's no longer vacant, only for arc, belonging only to him now.
yet it's still embarrassing.
arm can't believe it. arc caught him in the act. arm was supposed to be subtle. it was supposed to be his only time to admire arc, edging every piece of his existence into the riverbank of his memories without the scrutiny of arc's stare.
"arm," arc calls, already releasing the homey grip around his body. his voice is a bit hoarse than usual, and arm doesn't want to know why.
arm instantly pouts, dreading the loss of lulling warmth on his skin, suddenly experiencing the residues of freezing dread spiking in his lungs anew.
but maybe arc notices because he's already caressing arm's cheeks lovingly, tenderly, somewhat coaxing him to break away from this petulant act.
"arm... why are you hiding?" arc asks, genuinely curious.
arm makes dissatisfied noises, all the ah's and oh's and hm's and um's. but truthfully, his heart only sings the loftiest praises to his precious darling, swallowing the flower petals flourishing to the roof of his throat as arc noses at arm's neck, pecking along his jawline, giggling as arm doesn't give in.
"i've seen everything. there's no point in hiding—"
"phi arc!"
just because—only because—the realisation that arc has seen arm's everything and nothing—yet he's still here—is what kills arm a bit inside.
how can you love me still?
so he looks at arc. studies him. wishes he knew better than to stop and stare. but words are a misdemeanour to this silent exchange, and arm is tongue-tied again.
"why?" arc insists, wanting to know what's on arm's mind.
but if arc knows—if arc knows that arm's only thinking about him—will he still feel the same as last night?
blazing heat creeps up to his face and spreads along his tightening chest as arm tries to maintain this calm composure, meeking, "...i'm just shy."
arc leans closer and kisses the button of arm's nose. oh.
"you don't have to," he assures. "i want to see all of you in any shape or form. and i," arc pauses, his lips hovering near arm's own before he resumes, "i'll love you even if you're a cockroach."
arm laughs. he hollers.
"but you'll definitely step on me first. for good measures," arm jokes, grinning when arc echoes his laughter.
arc nods, playing along, "i think i will. just to keep the house clean, that's all."
when they laugh together, arm feels like he can conquer the world.
and it's quiet again. arm enjoys the languid heave of their chest, up and down, in sync. the remnants of laughter tickles their tongue still, sometimes successfully escaping from their agape mouths. then arm can't stop chuckling. and arc won't stop kissing.
and arc brings him back to the beach of their present, asking, "does it still hurt?"
arm focuses on the ceiling above him instead of arc's waiting eyes when he answers, losing his breath again, "i'm a bit sore."
arc carefully traces arm's body, from his stomach and down to his hips, massaging the aching spots, whispering, "i meant your ankle."
arm wants to punch him in the face.
"i hate you," arm says, rolling his eyes as he scoots further from arc. but arc chases after him. he so easily envelops arm in his embrace, chortling.
yet arc continues massaging all the places arm feels the most fatigued, never forgetting to leave kisses all over his face, pushing arm into another endless fit of giggles.
"i'm sorry if i was rough with you last night," arc's voice now reverberates with remorse. arm doesn't enjoy that at all. it makes him sad. it makes him—scared.
"i'll be gentle next time. i promise."
that's not what i meant— "phi, i'm fine. it was just my first time. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you—"
"arm."
arm doesn't realise the tears pooling in his eyes are threatening to fall.
but arc catches him. he always will.
"it's nothing. don't overthink," arc ensures, holding arm at the sides of his face, making sure he's looking straight into arm's soul as he says, "i love you. i love you more than anything. so you can tell me everything. tell me if i was too rough. tell me if you want to take it slow. tell me if i made you sad or mad. tell me all the things you couldn't tell anyone. tell me and only me. i'm here. i'll listen."
and arm doesn't deserve him.
arm doesn't deserve arc.
but he loves him.
arm loves arc so much.
at this moment, arm only knows the language of lips on lips. he speaks his feelings into every touch, professing his boundless love for arc with every breath he steals from arc's exhales, promising arc that he'll be better with every suck of the tongue, tasting arc, remembering him, wanting only him and no one but him.
once they part, the string that connects their lips seems too painstakingly close to forever, now another pledge made.
"i love you, phi arc," arm won't get tired of saying this. never.
"i love you too much. love you so much. love you," and these words carry the weight of the universe, now a duty beseech for arm to conduct. and he'll willingly take responsibility for it all—the good and bad.
arc snuggles closer, wrapping his legs around arm's torso, securing him in place. he finds refuge at the crook of arm's neck, inhaling the scent of dried musk and lavender. arm senses the curve of arc's smile there, now a tattoo, forever a symbol of ownership. and arm doesn't mind—he has always belonged to arc, anyway.
but still—
"phi arc! you're heavy! get off of me!"
"you didn't say that to me last night—"
arm pushes arc away with a force stronger than nature, almost making the other topple from the bed.
"phi arc! stop teasing me!"
and arc doesn't stop teasing him. he doesn't stop being a menace although he's arm's boyfriend now.
but it's okay. arm loves him the same, in fact, even more now.