Ocean didn’t look at him. He just leaned back slightly, already settling in, as if the matter were obvious.

The space beside him remained open.

Waiting.

Davian stood rooted to the spot, pillow clutched against his chest, his mind lagging several steps behind reality. The words echoed, refusing to arrange themselves into something sensible.

"What?" he finally asked, voice betraying him.

Ocean turned his head just enough to look at him. "Sleep here, Davian."

Davian swallowed.

In all his reckless imaginings, in every impossible scenario his mind had ever conjured, this had never been one of them. Ocean coming to his room was already unthinkable. Ocean asking this, calmly, plainly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, felt unreal.

His heart hammered painfully against his ribs.

This has to be a dream.

He pinched himself, sharp and quick.

It stung.

His breath hitched.

"A-Are you sure?" He asked, the words barely holding together. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Ocean’s eyes narrowed just slightly, a familiar warning glint flickering through the exhaustion. "Do you want me to lay you down here?"

Davian froze for half a heartbeat.

Then he shook his head far too quickly. "N-No."

He turned at once, setting the pillow down with hands that refused to stop trembling, and carefully lowered himself onto the bed beside Ocean. He lay on his back, stiff as a board, arms straight at his sides, as though any movement might trigger some invisible alarm.

The mattress dipped subtly beneath Ocean’s weight.

Davian became acutely aware of everything.

The coolness radiating from him.

The quiet rhythm of his breathing.

The fact that there were only inches between them.

"Relax, Davian," Ocean said from beside him, his voice low, almost dry. "I won’t kill you in your sleep."

Davian let out something between a laugh and a strangled breath.

"Yes, of course," he said quickly, staring straight up at the ceiling, pulse roaring in his ears.

But his body refused to listen.

Every nerve screamed awareness, every thought looping back to the same impossible truth:

Ocean was here.

And he hadn’t sent him away.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Ocean asked quietly.

Davian shook his head at once. "Not at all!"

Ocean exhaled, long and weary. "I know... I told you to stay away until the end of the Trials. And yet," he added, voice flattening slightly, "here I am."

Davian turned his head toward him. Ocean’s profile was half-lit by the faint glow seeping in through the curtains, his expression unreadable.

"I’m sure there must be a reason," Davian said softly.

Ocean didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned onto his side, his back facing Davian, creating a distance that felt deliberate despite the narrow space between them.

"You can relax and sleep, Davian," Ocean said after a moment. "I’ll be gone in the morning."

The words struck sharper than Davian expected.

His chest tightened, an unfamiliar sting blooming there as he stared at Ocean’s back.

"Why?" Davian asked before he could stop himself. "We could have breakfast together."

Silence.

Ocean didn’t respond.

Davian hesitated, then inched closer, slowly, carefully, as though approaching something fragile that might vanish if startled.

"Master?" He called, voice low.

Ocean hummed in response, a sound that was neither agreement nor refusal.

Davian swallowed. His heart was beating far too loudly in his ears.

"M-May I at least hold your hand while we sleep?"

He braced himself for reproach. For dismissal.

Instead, there was only a quiet sigh.

"Will you be satisfied with only that?" Ocean asked.

Davian paused.

The space between them felt suddenly enormous.

He shifted closer again, until the coolness of Ocean’s back seeped into him, grounding and terrifying all at once. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Then... can I hold you while you sleep?"

The words felt bold, almost reckless leaving his lips.

He loved Ocean. He had loved him quietly, patiently, for longer than he cared to admit. And now, with Ocean lying so close, sharing the same bed, that love made him feel daring in a way he had never allowed himself to be before.

As though, just this once, wanting more didn’t feel like a sin.

After what felt like an eternity, Davian began to think Ocean had already fallen asleep.

Then he heard it- a faint hum, low and unguarded.

Davian’s breath caught.

For a split second, instinct screamed at him to react. To move. To put distance between them. To leap off the bed and grab a sword, because Ocean never- never- let his guard down like this.

And yet, he had.

That realization sent a slow, unsteady pulse through Davian’s chest.

He didn’t want to think about what it meant. Didn’t want to hope. But a quiet, dangerous thought crept in anyway: that perhaps Ocean, too, had come here because something inside him needed this.

Even if it was only for tonight.

Davian couldn’t bring himself to let it slip away.

He closed the remaining space between them and carefully wrapped his arms around Ocean’s lean form, slow and deliberate, giving him every chance to pull away.

Ocean didn’t.

His body was cool beneath Davian’s touch—not unpleasantly so, but with the chill of deep water. It made Davian think of Frosthail, of long winter nights where the cold seeped into his bones and somehow still felt like home.

The familiarity settled him.

His gaze drifted to the small earstud glinting faintly in the darkness. From there, his eyes followed the line of Ocean’s ear to the curve of his pale neck, pristine and exposed. Davian lowered his face instinctively, his breath brushing against cool skin.

The faint scent of waterlilies lingered there.

It was subtle. Clean. Enough to make his eyes flutter shut as he leaned in just a fraction more, wanting- needing- to anchor himself to something real.

"Don’t try anything funny."

Ocean’s voice cut through the moment, calm and low.

Davian froze.

His heart slammed painfully against his ribs as he pulled back just enough to breathe properly.

"Y-Yes," he murmured, mortified.

This was going to be harder than he had imagined.

Minutes passed.

Gradually, Ocean’s breathing slowed, deepened, the tension easing out of his frame as sleep finally claimed him. He fell asleep quickly after that, completely unaware of the storm he had left behind.

Davian lay there, Ocean’s back pressed flush against his chest.

Only then did he realize how warm his own body had grown.

He clenched his jaw, staring into the darkness.

He had thought he could simply hold Ocean and sleep- peaceful, controlled, grateful. But now that Ocean was actually in his arms, temptation whispered cruelly at the edges of his restraint.

He ignored it.

He had to.

Because the fear was stronger—that if Ocean pulled away now, if he left before dawn, Davian might never be allowed this closeness again.

Whatever had driven Ocean here tonight, whatever hollow ache had lived behind those distant eyes, Davian wanted to give him nothing but safety.

Nothing but quiet.

Nothing but the assurance that, for this night at least, he wasn’t alone.

And so Davian stayed perfectly still, arms steady, watching Ocean’s face as he slept, impossibly calm, almost unreal in the dim light. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind at once, some gentle, reverent, others reckless and unwelcome, colliding without order.

He lifted one hand and, with deliberate care, threaded his fingers through Ocean’s blue strands. They slipped through his grasp smoothly, cool and soft, falling back into place like water returning to its course.

Davian stilled, then did it again, just once more.

A small smile tugged at his lips before he could stop it.

For the longest time, he had been uncertain. Torn between what he felt for Ocean and what he felt for Reina, unable to name the difference, only knowing that both mattered to him in ways that refused to be simple.

But with Ocean here, real, warm against him, breathing steadily in his arms, that confusion began to quiet.

Maybe...

Maybe he had always known.

The thought startled him with its clarity.

His mind, traitorous and far too awake, wandered forward. He wondered, absurdly, whether his parents would accept it. Whether they would understand. They both thought highly of Ocean but would they like him as their son-in-law? He was sure his mother would agree but what of his father?

He even caught himself thinking about children, about adoption, because Ocean loved kids so openly, so naturally, and Davian couldn’t imagine denying him that happiness.

They would live in Frosthail together once all of Ocean’s plans were finally fulfilled. The image came unbidden: quiet mornings, cold air, laughter carried through stone halls.

Then his thoughts grew even bolder.

He imagined their wedding- simple at first, then impossibly detailed. He nearly pictured Ocean in a wedding dress, serene and sharp and devastatingly beautiful-

Davian bit down hard on his lip, stifling a laugh before it could escape and wake him.

Idiot, he scolded himself gently.

He tightened his arms just a fraction, grounding himself again in the present. Tonight was real. Tomorrow was uncertain. And that was enough.

For now, Ocean was here.

Davian’s fingers moved daringly deliberate now.

They traced slowly along Ocean’s cheekbones, reverent, feather-light, as though memorizing the shape of him. His touch lingered as it slid downward, brushing warm skin, until his fingertips came to rest against Ocean’s lips- soft, pale pink, barely parted.

Davian froze there.

His gaze locked onto them, heat flooding his body all at once, sharp and overwhelming.

Then Ocean shifted.

Davian went utterly still, every muscle locking in place as Ocean turned in his sleep, rolling toward him. He pressed closer, instinctively seeking warmth, until his forehead rested against Davian’s chest and his body nestled deeper into the space Davian had made for him.

Davian barely breathed.

Ocean’s weight settled against him, familiar and devastating all at once. Davian focused on controlling the frantic rhythm of his heart, terrified the pounding alone might wake him. He forced his thoughts down, crushed every stray impulse before it could take shape.

Slowly, mercifully, his body obeyed.

Calm returned, fragile but real.

Ocean’s face rested against Davian’s arm now, impossibly close. His aqua-blue lashes lay softly against his cheeks, casting faint shadows. His lips moved slightly with each silent breath, the rise and fall barely perceptible.

Davian stared.

Ocean’s shirt was fastened neatly, save for the topmost button, left undone. The smallest glimpse of pale skin showed beneath the fabric- smooth, untouched- and Davian had to swallow hard.

It felt unreal.

The sight filled him with something fierce and aching, something dangerously close to possessive. A tightness gripped his chest as the thought struck him- if Ocean hadn’t come here tonight... where would he have gone?

To whom?

Heat flared sharp and unwelcome, anger coiling low in his chest at the very idea. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding softly as he forced the feeling back down.

And then Ocean sighed.

"Mmm... Kai... Sol..." Ocean murmured sleepily, words slipping loose and unguarded as he shifted again. He scooted closer and draped one arm around Davian’s neck, fingers curling faintly into the fabric there.

Davian’s anger vanished instantly.

He exhaled, slow and steady.

"It’s Davian," he murmured softly. "Ocean."

"...Davian," Ocean repeated, the name barely more than breath.

Davian clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms as he anchored himself, holding fast to the fragile boundary between want and restraint.

Carefully, he leaned forward and rested his cheek against Ocean’s hair, inhaling the faint, clean scent there. Then he closed his eyes, committing the moment to memory.

Just this.

Just holding the man he loved.