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People always say not to fly too close to the sun. The sun will burn and burn and it will turn you to ash in an instant.
And the proof is right on Keigo’s back. But he could never bring himself to accept it for what it is.
According to every astronomer on the face of the earth, there is one sun in this galaxy. Keigo couldn’t disagree more.
Then there are the thousands, millions, billions of stars scattered across the expansion of space. They’re damn beautiful to look at. Keigo has had the opportunity to fly out of the city, deep into the snowy mountains—where no street light could ever hope to reach—to watch the stars dance in the presence of warmth.
-
Keigo had landed gracefully on the top of a snowy mountain. He had precious cargo in his arms, after all.
“Let me down, Birdie.”
“Aw, but I like carrying you, Firefly.”
The man in his arms rolled his eyes, and dropped a foot onto the ground. Keigo let him, following him to a clearer patch on the ground. His companion laid his long jacket on the frosted grass, plopping down to stretch out along it. He’d put his hands behind his head and raised an eyebrow at Keigo.
Keigo smiled, laying down on his wings so as to not freeze his back. He propped his head on the other’s toned stomach. Keigo cooed when nimble fingers made their way into his hair.
“How are you feeling?”
“Mmm, scopolamine works pretty good.”
“That’s good.”
Keigo looked up at the sky, aimlessly tracing shapes in the stars that glittered over them. The hand in his hair never stopped its ministrations, warming Keigo up against the cold of night. He let his eyes drift closed until the muscles under his head rumbled.
“You know any constellations?”
“Hm? Ah… not really. I know the common ones. Little and big dipper. The astrological signs.”
“What about the one?” A hand came into view. Keigo followed the lines the fingertips were mapping.
“Nope.”
“That one’s Pavo. A peacock.”
The finger moved to the left. “Grus. The crane.” Keigo kept his eyes on the ends of the fingertips, pinpointing what stars were being drawn.
Up and to further left, “Lynx.” Keigo hummed when he could make out the picture, smiling softly.
To the far right, “Camelopardalis. The giraffe.” The finger lingered, tracing over the giraffe again and again. The hand slowed down, pointing at the top of the giraffe’s head. His companion opened his palm, as though to hold the constellation as a whole. Then, it moved to the centre, right above them.
“Aquila.”
“Which one’s that?”
Silence followed the question. Keigo waited patiently, looking over at Camelopardalis, wondering why the other man had focused on it.
“An eagle.”
Keigo looked to the side, meeting a lovely shade of blue and a soft smile. Keigo grinned back. He took the hand on his head and brought it to his lips, kissing a scarred wrist, then each knuckle.
He brought their joined hands to his chest where his heart beat soundly. Where the warmth spread.
“Do you have a favourite star?” Keigo asked into the air.
“Altair.”
The answer came with no hesitation.
“How about you, pretty bird?”
-
Back then, Keigo had had to think about it for a moment. How foolish it seems now, to have to wonder what star could possibly be his favourite.
-
“The sun.”
His partner huffed a laugh.
“What, you enjoy getting sunburnt?”
“The sun doesn’t burn.” Keigo looked back again, staring into bright blue eyes with his response. “It warms me.”
-
And even now, though inane as it is, Keigo can think of the night his wings were burned off, can remember the excruciating pain he had felt, look at the tangible proof on his skin and still say he was never consumed by heat.
Keigo would fly into the sun time and time again, for centuries to come, if it meant he could feel the sun’s warmth forever.