Chapter Text
The muse pillows himself on a bed of marigolds, outlined by a radiance of oranges and yellows striking against his pale skin.
The artist frames his shot, splays himself over his muse for the perfect angle, and click!
Their eyes meet between the lens and they smile brilliant displays of white. The muse changes his pose, the artist races to capture it. Time is at a standstill just for them, just for this single moment.
“Kawaii!”
The muse snorts, embarrassed for and embarrassed by the artist. Rolls his beads of jade and turns away with rosy cheeks. Startles at the gentle hand caressing those ripe apples.
“I mean it, Aslan. You are too adorable.”
Eiji holds sincerity inside himself, breathes it out with those words and into Ash like a revival. Settles himself on Ash’s hips, satisfied with the photoshoot.
“I would like to use one of these in a portfolio if you do not mind,” he mentions shyly, maneuvering to place his camera back in its bag and lay down next to Ash. “I am not sure of the theme yet, but I like the flowers.”
“You’re just hoping my looks will coax your professors into giving you better grades.”
Eiji pouts and Ash laughs and the universe is happy for them.
They kiss lazily in the mid-afternoon sunlight, reveling in the warmth of it and each other, letting the love float around them like glittering crystals. One week is a long time to endure without seeing each other, but Eiji’s finals are completed and his attention is back where it’s supposed to be. Then Ash will graduate and the whole summer will be theirs to explore and traverse.
Ibe Shunichi, coincidentally Max’s old friend and the very photographer who captured Eiji’s former pole-vaulting days, gifted him with the newest of the new, the finest of the fine—an unknowing replacement for Eiji’s previous camera. Told him he wanted a new assistant and it simply couldn’t be anybody but him.
With the firmest of pushes, Eiji gained a scholarship to NYU and enough money to comfortably support his family. In combined efforts with his sister, they eventually earned enough to admit their mother to a psychiatric hospital and visit her often. Lately, Eiji’s been renovating their home just because and only shrugs if asked for another reason.
Ash has gone back to therapy and that’s all there is to say at the moment, really. He supposes his life will truly begin once he gets over with graduation. Shorter won’t shut the fuck about it and Ash has been busting his ass trying to keep Kong and Bones from failing senior year. And Alex keeps worrying because he can’t pick a major after finding the money and support to even attend college.
Ash should probably be worrying about those kinds of things, too, but it seems far too monotonous compared to the last eighteen years of his life. Things will work out. If they did before, they can again. At last, he is content with that.
“One year and twenty-two days.”
Ash looks over, his glasses digging into the side of his face, to Eiji. “Hm?”
Their hands, like magnets, connect and intertwine between them.
“One year and twenty-two days since I last hurt myself,” he announces. His voice is soft, a whisper—in opposition to this kind of achievement and Ash strangely feels as if he should shout it from the rooftops instead.
He only smiles and replies, “I’m proud of you.” And because he can’t help himself. “But I’m one year and twenty-three days from the last time I wanted to kill myself, so I’ve got you beat.”
It earns him a faint slap to the chest. “That is not true! You do not keep count!” Eiji leans over conspiratorially. “But if it is, I am very sorry and I am also very proud of you, as well.”
Ash laughs, leans over with orange spilling between fingers, and kisses Eiji lovingly, passionately. Trails his lips down pudgy cheeks, a delicate, sloping neck, and lifts up the hem of a stupid cartoon shirt despite fervent protests that they’re out in public to press just the slightest of pecks to tiny, crisscrossing scars.
He lifts away to find shining, shimmering brown eyes adoring him with every ounce of their being. But then Eiji kisses his chest through the fabric of his turtleneck and Ash is left confused.
“I am kissing your scars, too. The ones in your heart.”
Ash really can’t help the tears that fall, but Eiji laughs and brushes them away.
They’re okay. Not healed. Not recovered. Simply okay.