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Nox's breath catches in his throat when he feels the fleeting kisses on his neck subside, feels Chase's hands crawling around his shoulders and resting there, clinging softly.
The light falls warm onto the both of them on the living room couch. It's the only source of warmth besides the sweet weight of Chase on top of him, arms around him and comforting him—even though Nox hadn't asked.
He hadn't asked Chase to kiss the slope of his cheekbone, kiss up his forehead, threading his hands through his hair hours after dark—but Chase would never take no for an answer.
And neither would Nox resist his touch.
His sun threaded their palms together, intertwined them close together as he pressed a slow kiss up a calloused, bony finger, lingering back at the base of Nox's palm. He'd breathed in quiet affection and affirmation and everything Nox could've ever wanted, even if he was never to admit it.
Chase had grinned into his palm, had nuzzled into him in a way that could only make Nox's heart melt. It was like Chase had picked up on how much Nox wanted this and was using it to his advantage.
This affection is one Nox needs to be drowned in, the embracing, comforting, touch of a lover, the unspoken comfort in the form of physical touch, his hand dropping and caressing the soft of Nox's skin. He needs the kisses, needs the warm lamplight on them and enveloping his face.
On top of him, Chase's hair gathers in soft tufts, gravity drooping his hair down into Nox's neck, tickling the side of his face.
Exhaustion had overcame him after the busy week he's had, and Chase had been so warm with his comfort. He'd fallen right into Nox's lap just an hour ago, had caged the boy underneath him and then showered him with praise and affection, making his ego flame and his head reel.
Nox never loved someone, and with the feeling of fondness overcoming him at how close they were, it felt dizzying, exhilarating, altogether sickening.
It was more heavy than comforting, more heat than warmth.
Nox had never known how much he'd needed comfort until he was caged under Chase's insistent touch.
Under Chase's palm, the bow of his own smirk-adorned lips went slack, a slow finger reaching up to the hollow of his cheek and pressing against the bone—every piece of scrutiny felt so intimate, even more as Chase explored every aspect of Nox's newly human face, his shoulders, his neck.
Now that Chase has stopped kissing him, exploring him, Nox taps him on the shoulder once, trying to get an answer. He wants Chase's mouth back on him, wants Chase sucking the soul out of him and connecting their heartbeats through a lifeline, even if he wouldn't ask for that right away.
Nox nudges his sun, trying to tap him awake. He hears a soft whisper of a snore, and instinctively, Nox laughs at confirmation that he's actually asleep. It's a soft, muted sound, but it bounces off the luminosity surrounding them both. Fondness anchors him underneath Chase and forces him to stay instead of getting up to move them to the bed.
There's a soft murmur against his neck that makes him pause. For a moment, Nox freezes, everything else ceasing to fade around him as he prays that Chase doesn't wake.
There's silence, and Nox breathes in relief.
The whole idea of it is surreal—Chase falling asleep to the careful comfort he was providing Buddy, exhausted, lips probably tingling after kissing Buddy wherever he could reach. The comfort had gotten so slow that he'd fallen asleep, had gotten comfortable enough around Buddy to let his eyelids flutter shut.
Chase's legs press into his thighs, the heavy weight on top of him making Nox wince a little. His cheeks heat as he adjusts Chase closer to him until their torsos press together, warmth carrying their way into each others' touch.
The awareness of how small the distance is between their hazy frames makes Buddy freeze. For a second, he breathes out through his nose, trying to ground himself.
Light bounces off Chase's hair, blending into the warm hues of their living room and fading into oblivion.
Nox couldn't even take in the time to absorb every individual spectra of artiste, the furniture of the living room. In fact, he was too enamored by the boy whose frame slumped and contracted in small sighs, their legs tangling together, draping across the couch, that he was unable to look anywhere but the sight before him.
He tilts Chase's face up to meet his gaze, to confirm if he was allowed to stare this much now that he was asleep. Chase's eyelids are fluttered shut, his cheeks warm with sleep and eyebrows pulled up. His kissable mouth is parted in a soft snore.
Nox cups Chase's cheek to stare, holds him up.
His eyes start at the gold of his hair, the way the light falls behind him instead of in front of him. Chase was the angel incarnate he'd received, a gift that he didn't deserve. It was unfair to be this pretty, to be so loud and welcoming and warm, yet this quiet when he was asleep.
It was a gentle reminder of the past year, when he'd carried a sleeping Chase out of a book—he'd fainted of sickness. Despite that, he'd come into the book like the little shit he was, just to offer him kindness.
Nox only had the soft pull of Chase's blond hair at the time, not realizing why he was so obsessed with touching it. He had been calm, then, and he was calm now.
The moment strikes clear in Nox's mind, how Nox had retracted his palm back at the realization of what he was doing, jolted by the neediness of his own touch.
The littlest things feel so big when you're in love. The realization makes Nox utterly hopeless, even more as he stares at the perfect tilt of Chase's neck, leans his hand down to the soft curve of Chase's waist. Nox can't give affection the same way Chase does—he merely mirrors the touch that Chase gives him, the silly little mannerisms slipping from his grasp.
Sometimes, it spills in the form of random forehead kisses, the addicting pull of each others' mouths, the waist grabs that Nox swears are teasing, not romantic—but the touch can never can be so honest when Nox is fully awake, hesitating with his touch. It could never be truly enough for Chase, even now.
Sometimes, the affection Nox reiterates also spills in the form of tears, wet and salty against Chase's skin. Though that—
Nox's breathing goes rapid as he feels at his own pulse—his heart feels like it could burst, the angel right next to him still sighing in a similar rhythm.
A lump forms in his throat, and suddenly he has to force his face away, back into his neck. A hand lingering next to Chase's side goes up to his own trembling mouth. He breathes softly as a wave of warmth washes over him, and Nox sighs. He breathes in and sighs once more before he shudders. Chase sighs back, lips parting, the warm hues of his skin flushing red under Nox's touch.
The shell of Chase's ear reaches out towards him, and he tilts his head to the side to kiss his ear, behind his hair. It's barely even a kiss, a smashing of lips against his ear roughly, trying to hold back emotion and ground onto his skin.
His skin.
The tears fall softly, cooling the warmth in Chase's cheek. The lump in his throat, combined with the sensation of Chase's curls brushing against his neck feels poignant on his skin.
Buddy's tears blink shut as his eyes close. For a moment, he sighs. "Chase," he whispers. The boy doesn't stir, but Buddy keeps talking. "I love you."
His blond lashes flutter against his skin as Buddy speaks again, a soft laugh. "—so much."
For a moment, Buddy pauses, taking in the warm flush of Chase's skin against the warm light. His eyelids drift shut, entrapping the warmth back in his arms, letting the world cease to exist.