Chapter Text
The night was cold in a way that clung gently to their coats, but neither Jo nor Yuma had minded when they stepped outside. The city behind them was quiet now, the streets mostly empty. They’d walked in comfortable silence for nearly twenty minutes, hand in hand, only the occasional squeeze of fingers grounding them in the moment.
Jo liked it like this—when the world was still, and Yuma wasn’t trying to fill every pause with noise. Yuma understood that. Always had.
They ended up at the little hill near Jo’s apartment complex—a small overlook with just enough height to see the sliver of stars that peeked between clouds. Not perfect. But enough.
Jo tilted his head back, his breath fogging the air. “I thought we’d see more.”
Yuma gave a little shrug. “Stars are shy too, sometimes.”
Jo laughed, barely—a soft sound, nearly silent. “Then I can’t blame them.”
Yuma turned his head. Jo was looking up still, lips parted just slightly, the glow of a streetlamp catching the faintest blush on his cheeks.
“Cold?” Yuma asked.
Jo shook his head. “No.”
They stood there for a moment. Long enough that the quiet stopped being something to pass through and became something they stood inside together.
Then Jo said, very quietly:
“I love you.”
It came out small. Like a truth that had been held too long behind his ribs.
Yuma blinked.
Jo kept his gaze on the sky. “Sorry,” he added quickly, though he didn’t pull his hand away. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I just… it was quiet. And I was thinking about it…so.”
Yuma stepped in closer, their arms brushing, the scent of Jo’s shampoo carried faintly in the air between them.
He didn’t rush to speak. Just reached out and tucked Jo’s scarf higher, fingers lingering under his jaw.
“I love you too,” Yuma said, his voice just as soft. “I think I’ve been saying it for weeks without realizing it.”
Jo looked at him then, eyes wide, expression full of quiet wonder.
“Really?”
Yuma smiled—crooked and warm, his snaggletooth flashing just enough to make Jo’s stomach twist.
“Yeah. Every time I call you dramatic for how you make tea. Every time I tease you just to see you blush. Every time you don’t say much, but I still feel full just sitting next to you.” His hand found Jo’s again. “All of that. I think it was me trying to say I love you.”
Jo’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re good at saying things.”
“I’ve had good practice,” Yuma teased, nudging him gently. “You give me things worth saying.”
Jo smiled down at their joined hands, face flushed and soft in the lamplight. Then, gently, he leaned into Yuma’s side, head resting against his shoulder.
They stood there like that for a long time, saying nothing else.
Above them, the stars—shy or not—kept their silent watch. Not perfect. But enough.
Just like this.