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Cold could be lonely, embracing you in goosebumps and fear. The air against your neck could feel threatening, like eyes fixated on you. Those judging pupils that would never leave, staring daggers into you, creating that sense of dread-
Or, cold could also be the fan blowing towards you, laying aside the man you dream of a future with. The darkness of the room would feel calm rather than scary, for he who you love would be there. The latter was the case for Uehara Kinji, a priest who still had much to learn about life— including moments like this.
The glow-in-the-dark star stickers that Maeda Yuki had put on his dorm room ceiling in his first year at Hope’s Peak were bright as ever. They complimented the darkness well, being the only source of light shining in the room. On the large(ish) bed layed Uehara right beside Maeda, just far enough to not be touching, yet just close enough to feel the other’s presence. The two boys sat in semi-awkward silence, yet the quiet was rather comforting. Between them, conversation was not always necessary to enjoy themselves.
As Uehara tried to position himself comfortably, a gentle squeaking noise came out of the bed frame. To combat the silence, the ginger boy let out a weak chuckle, just loud enough to hit the priest’s ears. It was Maeda’s idea to share the bed for the first time; they had only recently come to terms with what they were, relationship wise. Sure, they still kissed and all before that, but it was… different now that they knew they loved each other. No more awkward discussions of “what are we, Maeda?” or “are feelings involved in ‘us”? You would expect going from “friends” (that shared an awful amount of romantic gestures) to boyfriends would cause tension or even stress, but it was the opposite for these two. Admitting those feelings was what they needed between them.
Deciding to strike conversation, Uehara started with, “How have your classes been? I recall you struggling with an English paper, has that been resolved?”
While the grey haired boy could not see Maeda’s face, the quiet that followed after that question gave him an idea of what would be said next.
“Not quite, uhm.. my professor gave me a short extension and a few extra resources, but other than that, I’m still not doing so well. Writing isn’t my strong suit.” His reply sounded embarrassed, which Uehara took note of. The priest wanted to help his lover, in whatever way he could.
Instead of a verbal response, the taller boy moved a smidge closer to Maeda and gently placed his hands on his lover’s head. Uehara ran his fingers through his hair in a cautious manner, like he was afraid his touch was unwanted. Upon hearing a small hum from Maeda, however, he relaxed.
Uehara finally noted, “I know I’m not a perfect writer either, but I’m always willing to help you get started.” He continued playing with the ginger’s hair.
“I assume all your other classes are going fine? Hope’s Peak English teachers seem to have a thing for being strict, as mine is awfully tight on following prompts. If you go off the guide a tad bit, he finds a way to take points off your piece.” The air felt lighter as the grey haired boy shared his own experience.
The pale green fake stars above them lit up Maeda’s face just enough that the priest could make out a faint blush on it. Was that Uehara’s doing, he wondered to himself? He had never considered himself flirtatious, but as he laid there petting Maeda’s hair, he felt awfully intrigued by the thought of having made the ginger flustered.
Starting up a new topic, the shorter boy asked, “Any new progress with T? I’ve heard you with a bit of a deeper voice, and it fits you well.”
Maeda smiled as he talked, encouraging his partner to share whatever he wanted to. When Uehara had first began testosterone, the boys were still in their “friends” phase, so they didn’t discuss the effects much (not wanting to dive too deep into feelings, if that came up.) As he replied, the priest moved his hands from his lover’s hair to his hand, locking them as they lay side by side.
“I have subtly noticed some changes, such as my voice deepening and my chin growing stubble... Yuki, how would I look with a beard?”
The question was awfully lighthearted for Uehara’s normal uptight demeanor. He had relaxed into the conversation, and his hand's gentle grip was proof. The grey haired boy could be accidently intense, even when in loving moments, so it was nice for Maeda to see him so calm.
In a similar silly tone, Maeda stated, “You’d look a lot more like a grandpa with a beard. More than you already do.”
Uehara simply sighed playfulling, feeling like he was defeated and couldn’t think of a clever retort. All he did was give Maeda’s hand a light squish, before moving on again to a new topic.
“I’ve been thinking,” was all Uehara started with.
A confused tone came out as Maeda replied with, “thinking about…?” The ginger was oddly curious, as well as mildly concerned. He just hopes Uehara wasn’t “thinking” about anything negative.
“What took us so long to spend a night together? By ‘together’, I don’t mean simply hanging out before leaving for our bedrooms, but rather, sleeping together..?”
The priest sounded like he had truly pondered this an awful amount. His voice had a tone that spoke for itself; he had been dying to ask this to Maeda. Before they got together, things were complicated— kisses and touches were shared, yet emotions and feelings were avoided like a plague. Everything they got out of each other was supposed to be strictly physical, yet a hint of passion always lingered. Yet through all that, never once did they share a bed overnight. Uehara could be thanked for getting them out of that awkward stage by wracking up every inch of courage he ever had to ask Maeda to officially be his boyfriend.
The ginger was left silent, before quietly mumbling, “I don’t know. I was scared, to be honest, of you rejecting me.”
The air had become deeper between them. Hiding his emotions was an art that Maeda had not yet mastered, and it was clear. His one hand (still intertwined with Uehara’s hand) fidgeted softly, rubbing small circles into his lover’s palm in a calming way.
“To be honest, I felt similarly. I’ve never had these kinds of feelings before, this is all very new to me. In Italy, my father always encouraged me to focus on simply myself, leaving romance out of the question. Now, at Hope’s Peak with you, Yuki… it’s different.”
Uehara found himself quietly rambling, seeming to want to get these thoughts out of his system. It all made a hint of more sense; he couldn’t experience love for so long, no surprise he struggled to accept his feelings with Maeda.
The priest continued, “I want to have this with you. Whatever ‘this’ might be, whatever love could bring, it’s you I want to journey into it with.”
A small silence dropped for a second, before Maeda let out a small giggle. Not a rude, obnoxious laugh, but rather a comforting one.
Maeda responded, “Since when are you such a poet, Kinji?” It was a simple question, but another laugh filled the air. This time, it was Uehara’s.
“Regardless, it’s late. Close to midnight, I presume? While we don’t have class tomorrow, I need to visit the children in the morning, so it would be best to rest now.” Uehara rubbed Maeda’s palm softly.
With a joyous tone in his voice, Maeda said, “Alright, love. Tell Lila I said hi?”
Uehara pictured her, one of his favorite children to look over at the church, always in her yellow sunflower dress. He would be sure to leave a good message from Maeda. After the ginger had volunteered some hours at the church, all the kids seemed to wonder where he was, considering how much fun they had.
“Will do. Goodnight, Yuki.”
It was as if all the stars in the universe lined up to get them here, together. Not together as friends, but as those who were in love. Those who knew each other better than anyone else. Just for tonight, everything will be fine.
“G’night, Kinji…”