[Unlike Akira, the heaviest sleeper in the world, it doesn't take all that much to lure Hikaru out of his dreams. He's awake as soon as Akira says his name, with the flinch of his brow, the slight parting of his lips, but he isn't in any rush to do anything about it. The bed is warm, and it's comfortable, even when he has Akira squirming against to him. It does feel like summer, like a summer from a long time ago, when they'd both go chasing after fireflies in the backyard. Akira always made sure the glass jars they used to catch the fireflies had enough holes in the lid. So they'd be able to breathe, of course. Akira was just a gentle boy, just conscientious in that way, back then, a long time ago...] Mmm, [Hikaru says, acknowledging the command, because Akira isn't so gentle when he feels like he's being ignored.] Hmm... [He opens one eye and then lifts his head up, blearily checking the red-lit face of his clock. Yeah, so much for his original plans. Didn't mean to fall asleep, and now he's slept in way later than he would've wanted to... It's too late to do anything about it. His chin tilts back down, nestling into Akira's hair, and then one of his arms shifts in, crossing over, bracing the small of Akira's back. That's another acknowledgment, and the slow, easygoing pressure of his embrace is closer to a calm down, and to comfort.
Somehow... He stifles a yawn, swallowing it up. At some point, too... And he opens both of his eyes, still not especially alert. His bedroom is covered in that texture of twilight where things don't seem as real anymore, where they're a little too fuzzy at the edges, too indistinct. Somehow, he thinks, watching the blinds, and at some point, something as simple as a hug started to change shape. The two of them started fitting together in ways they didn't used to before. It's his fault for not setting any boundaries at all. It's his own fault for prioritizing Akira as much as he did and he still does. Instead of facing all of this, he's tempted to just go back asleep already.
But Akira isn't going to allow that to happen, huh. Hikaru mumbles,] I was just gonna order a pizza, actually... [It's getting too late for much else, and he's never been all that great in the kitchen, unsurprisingly. Akira has learned a thing or two about cooking for himself, and for Hikaru's benefit, but Hikaru never expects anything like that from him. Hikaru doesn't want to expect domestic bliss from Akira, because they shouldn't be doing this sort of thing in the first place.]
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Somehow... He stifles a yawn, swallowing it up. At some point, too... And he opens both of his eyes, still not especially alert. His bedroom is covered in that texture of twilight where things don't seem as real anymore, where they're a little too fuzzy at the edges, too indistinct. Somehow, he thinks, watching the blinds, and at some point, something as simple as a hug started to change shape. The two of them started fitting together in ways they didn't used to before. It's his fault for not setting any boundaries at all. It's his own fault for prioritizing Akira as much as he did and he still does. Instead of facing all of this, he's tempted to just go back asleep already.
But Akira isn't going to allow that to happen, huh. Hikaru mumbles,] I was just gonna order a pizza, actually... [It's getting too late for much else, and he's never been all that great in the kitchen, unsurprisingly. Akira has learned a thing or two about cooking for himself, and for Hikaru's benefit, but Hikaru never expects anything like that from him. Hikaru doesn't want to expect domestic bliss from Akira, because they shouldn't be doing this sort of thing in the first place.]