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Nighttime can be brutal. Reminders lurk around every corner, in every shadow, and hide themselves in the softest sounds. The meaning behind every bump in the night is clear: his sins will not be forgotten. What has come to pass will never be erased, nor will his hand in it. Try as he might, the blood cannot be washed away. It stains his skin as a permanent reminder of what his very existence has caused.
These nights are the worst.
The thoughts are tranquil yet when Hinata’s voice pulls him from the depths of his own mind. Those amber eyes are looking up at him expectantly, and Komaeda’s embarrassed to admit that he doesn’t know why. “Sorry,” he says. “Did you say something?”
Hinata takes no offense. He simply nuzzles his boyfriend’s arm and repeats himself with an underlying whine: “Come to bed with me.” He’s much more affectionate when he’s tired, though they both know that he, too, is averse to sleeping alone.
A gentle smile finds its way to Komaeda’s lips. How can he turn down such an earnest request? It isn’t so hard when he’s awake or being difficult, but now, with such a sleep-riddled voice… even if he hadn’t wanted it too, Komaeda would have caved within seconds.
Hinata leans against him as they walk, only tearing himself away when he needs him to. As Komaeda changes into his pajamas, he notices that Hinata does not, choosing instead to sleep in boyfriend’s shirt. A faint pinkness colors his face as he realizes, though he makes no effort to hide it. If Hinata notices, he says nothing; they climb wordlessly into bed, taking their places as if they know exactly where they are meant to be. A quiet hum briefly interrupts the silence as Komaeda pulls his boyfriend close to him. He strokes his hair, wondering why he likes this, why he likes him, and a million other things all at once. His thoughts envelop him once more, pulling him deeper and deeper in until—
“Nagito…”
—he hears his name sleepily murmured against his own skin.
“I love you, Nagito.”
Hinata snuggles up to the boy in his arms, causing him to blush furiously. Komaeda’s glad then that it’s dark and that he can’t be seen - although there’s little doubt in his mind that Hinata can feel the warmth emanating from his face.
Beneath the redness, a smile forms on lips - lips which briefly touch the top of Hinata’s head. “Hajime,” he murmurs. “I love you.” He cradles Hinata’s head, pulling him in closer as he whispers against the shell of his ear:
“I’ll always love you.”