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Softly, somewhere in the corner of their shared accommodation was the whirring of air conditioning, a blessed Fontainian creation keeping their room pleasantly cool. The background noise was appreciated, even if not the same as the chirping of his aphids back home. It helped keep things at least somewhat familiar, even if his mattress was too soft and pillow too stiff.
Another aspect of the surrounding environment that kept things familiar, Ifa laying in bed next to him.
Well, not really the next to him part. Just the Ifa part. Laying together wasn’t exactly par for the course in their friendship.
Even if it was only his back turned to him, blanket pulled taut between them. Ifa was staunchly on ‘his’ side of the bed, as he had decreed when they stepped into their room only to find that they had accidentally a booked a room with a singular queen sized bed, not even enough room for the distance between them to be described, as Ifa had put it, “Respectful.”
Ororon didn’t want respectful. He thought too often about the time Ifa grabbed his hand to pull him through a crowd at the stadium, explaining “So we don’t lose each other.” When their pinkies overlapped during their movie marathon earlier today, and instead of pulling away, Ifa entwined their singular digit while never looking away from the screen, never acknowledging the subtle touch between them.
His thoughts had never been more chaotic than in the presence of his best friend, within arms reach and so achingly warm, he can feel it radiate off his back. These thoughts, they didn’t speak to him in the same way they usually do– These ones were loud. Annoying. Demanding.
Most could be reasoned away. These ones couldn’t.
A domestic, fuzzy kind of desire pulled him forwards. Moving only his upper body, his head fell off his pillow and settled on Ifa’s, forehead hitting his shoulder blades.
He was content with that. Ifa radiated warmth and it already felt so nice, he’d be okay falling asleep just like this. Close to the one he secretly harbored affections for. A touch subtle enough, he didn’t feel bad that he was committing a ‘taking’ action. It didn’t need reciprocation. It just needed to be enough to settle him, and feed into the delusion that maybe someday, it’ll be more.
He thought Ifa was already asleep and was careful not to jostle the vet in his movement, but his friend was either a very light sleeper, or not asleep at all.
Ifa turned his head back to take a look at Ororon, bent awkwardly for the smallest touch of his beloved vet. Then, as if the motion meant nothing to him, he turned his head back.
He thought that’d be the end of it. The touch was acknowledged, and tolerated. And yet, after a few seconds of deliberation, Ifa was turning around to face him. He came face to face with a sleepy expression, eyes barely open and drooping with a soft watery tear as often comes with being tired, just starting to form at the edge.
“Hi…”
Ororon’s voice is nothing but a hush, all too aware that a simple shift of his head would put them together again.
Ifa hummed, quiet and affirming. “Hi.”
The silence dragged, watching Ifa blink with a slowness that must be intentional. Every flicker of the eye sent his singular tear threatening to fall, eventually running down the corner of his eye and seeping into their pillowcase below.
“D’ya… want somethin’?”
His voice slurred, dreamy with fatigue.
“Did I wake you?”
“Mmm… was about t’ fall asleep, I think.”
“Oh… sorry.”
Their breathing fell into the same rhythm, coming out in small huffs of warm air. For a moment Ororon is so transfixed on how startlingly close Ifa’s face is to his own. The sharply cut slope of his nose he had once spent so much time deliberating if should be drawn in one or two strokes of a paintbrush, scars he couldn’t add to his finished painting for fear of upsetting the rules of balance he had imposed on himself. His eyes were a delicate thing, smooth as the eroded pebble in a coursing river, framed by impossibly daintier white lashes. Soft cheeks, and a chiseled jaw.
Rouge lips, barely trembling on each exhale.
His transfixion is brought to an end by one particularly slow blink, accompanied by the break in their synced breathing, a chuckle coming out in short puffs. “Ya’ didn’t answer m’ question, Oro.”
He found himself with just a little too much shame to admit it. Images of their arms entwined, finding that safe space tucked under Ifa’s chin– Those only existed in dreams, never reality. He couldn’t possibly ask for any of it to be real. It’d be– He’d be taking too much from Ifa. Affection he didn’t deserve, that's what it was. Sharing a bed with his best friend like this, it was already too much. He should’ve just– just booked another room. Surely there was another. That way, he wouldn’t have to intrude on Ifa’s space like this. They could keep the distance ‘respectful’.
“It’s nothing,” he forces the words to pass his lips in a murmur.
I want to be close to you so bad and I don’t understand why.
It wasn’t anything insidious, he swears. Nothing dirty, nothing about taking what isn’t given freely. Just plain, confusing want.
With each passing second, it became more apparent that the vet wouldn’t be getting an answer. Ororon didn’t have one– Not one for saying out loud, at least.
Ifa continued to face him, regardless. Even as his eyes started fluttering shut again, sleep working its gentle talons into the overworked vet once more. That’s what made his heart jump the most, because it felt too deliberate. Ifa was just fine sleeping with his back turned to him, it made things less awkward. But like this… watching those thin lashes flutter, an easy smile whose only possible audience could be Ororon, this was intentional now.
Wordlessly, Ifa repositions their shared blanket to fall evenly across them, taking his arms and hugging one close to his chest, the other just barely outstretched in something that felt like an invitation. His fingers twitched in a beckoning motion, and for a moment Ororon is transported back to a memory–
“See this motion? If you get the frequency just right and keep it gentle, animals and saurians alike understand what it means. You’ll have them running up to greet you in no time!”
His arms move on their own, mimicking Ifa’s position. One kept close to his heart, keeping it guarded. The other outstretched, pointer finger brushing against Ifa’s.
Ifa made the final move, reaching out to flatly place the back of his hand in Ororon’s. Then turning it, palm to palm.
The weight is steady, and warm. Ifa’s hands are rough, but they're still softer than his own, typically hidden under heavy leather.
His friend’s thumb caresses the supple flesh leading up to his thumb, before giving a single squeeze, and going still. Ifa’s eyes have shut, with a faint whisper of good night.
Ororon squeezes the hand back, just once, just to know how it feels to be a part of something given. But Ifa’s already been claimed by the lulls of slumber.
He does not dare to let go, not even to twitch his fingers when they start going numb. And especially not when the domain of dreams claims him too, never letting ago, even in sleep.