The sun was smiling brightly on those enjoying the fine weather, including the two people engaged in a playful water fight on the rooftop's open platform.
What would you do on your day off? For Saint, after a busy week, today was the perfect day for laundry. The fragrance of the detergent wafted through the air as he prepared to hang up the bedsheets, towels, and their white shirts. Just as he was about to do so, the mischievous Fighter grabbed the running hosepipe and aimed it directly at Saint's face.
"What the fuck! FIGHTER!!!" Saint yelled, trying to shield his face from the water. Fighter's laughter echoed through the rooftop, loud and carefree.
"Fighter... stop!" Saint demanded, now soaked. Fighter, however, showed no signs of ending his mischief. He lowered the hose to Saint's chest, giving him a moment to breathe. Saint turned around, presenting his back to Fighter. Despite his annoyance, Fighter's laughter was like music to his ears, making him smile like an idiot. Fine, he thought, I'll keep up with Fighter's childish game.
Saint stepped backward to close the gap, sneakily seizing the hosepipe from Fighter. Fighter, lost in his own fun, was grinning with his eyes turned to crescent moons. When Saint finally had control of the hosepipe, he half-covered the opening to make the water flow feebly, then quickly aimed it at Fighter's face. Fighter struggled to keep the water away, giggling uncontrollably, while Saint laughed at his reaction.
Saint then aimed at Fighter's belly, causing Fighter to quickly grab for the hosepipe. Despite Fighter's efforts, he couldn't snatch it from Saint's grip. They ended up holding it together side by side, trying to splash each other's faces, both laughing and struggling in a playful tug-of-war.
The patio was now covered with splashed water and echoed with laughter. The laundry could wait; let the men enjoy their day. Saint's heart was full of joy, and Fighter felt on top of the world with happiness.
Saint finally relinquished the hosepipe and hugged Fighter from behind, tickling his sides. Fighter let out a deep, silly squeal in response. In his playful defense, Fighter turned around to face Saint, intending to tickle him back. Still giggling, Fighter noticed Saint's touch becoming lighter until he stopped tickling altogether. Saint stared at Fighter intently, his hands still resting on Fighter's sides where he had just been tickling him.
"Saint."
As Fighter panted from laughing too much, Saint's intense stare caused his heart to race wildly. His breathe suddenly hitched when Saint shifted his eyes to Fighter lips and he oh so slowly wet it with his tongue that made Fighter swallowed down his nervousness. Saint leaned forward, shifting his right hand to cup Fighter's face, their eyes locked intensely. Fighter felt a surge of panic as Saint moved closer to his face.
"S-Saint," Fighter stuttered, his free hand landing on Saint's waist while he tightened his grip on the hosepipe. Saint was moving closer, and Fighter could feel his breath. Fighter closed his eyes tightly, then swiftly dragged the hosepipe up and aimed at Saint's jaw, playfully attacking him.
"FIGHTER!"
After dropping the hosepipe, Fighter dashed away from Saint, laughing nervously. He hurried inside the house and straight to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Leaning his back against the door, he tried to calm himself, feeling his cheeks flush and his heart racing uncontrollably. He rubbed his chest, hoping to steady his heartbeat.
"Was... was he trying to kiss me?" Fighter mumbled to himself, still reeling from the unexpected moment with Saint.
Meanwhile, Saint was left alone outside, watching Fighter's flustered reaction with a sheepish smile. It seemed he would be hanging up the laundry all by himself. As he began to hang up the newly washed bedsheets, white shirts, and towels, he couldn't help but feel content. The laundry would definitely smell cleaner and fresher now. He sighed deeply, feeling satisfied. Everything was perfect under the sun.
Saint went inside to wash their colored clothes in the washing machine. As he sorted through the laundry, a pair of pants he had worn a few days ago caught his attention. He found a mysterious feather in the pocket and carefully took it out. Fighter emerged from their bedroom just then.
"Fight... Is this yours?" Saint asked, showing Fighter the feather.
Fighter came closer, examining it closely. "No. Where did you get this?" he replied, furrowing his brows.
"It fell from your back, Fight. That night at the parking lot," Saint explained.
"But mine is blue and this is grey," Fighter countered.
"I know, but it came from your back," Saint insisted.
"This looks like a dead feather. But let's ignore it, it doesn't matter. Come on, let me help you," Fighter said, picking up the remaining dirty clothes and bringing them to the washing machine.
"Okay," Saint replied, still feeling doubtful, but he decided to set aside his concerns since Fighter dismissed the issue.
"Saint, come here! I have something to show you!" Fighter called out eagerly from the patio as Saint was inside the house, taking off his coat.
They had just arrived home from dinner. Saint had treated Fighter to a meal at a fancy restaurant as a thank-you for the perfectly cooked pork satay Fighter had grilled a few nights ago. It had been the best and most delicious satay Saint had ever tasted, thanks to Fighter's expert marination that made the aroma irresistible. Inspired, Saint suggested they could have a barbecue party sometime on his next day off.
"Saint!" Fighter yelled again impatiently as Saint took his time inside.
"Coming! Damn it, Fight. Patience!" Saint yelled back, struggling to remove his black shoes.
"Suppapong! Saint! Saaaint!" Fighter persisted.
"The fuck!" Saint exclaimed. "What is it? You're so loud! The neighbors are sleeping," he rebuked as he approached Fighter near the wooden fence.
"Hug me!" Fighter excitedly wiggled his hands.
"What? You called me out just for a hug?" Saint complained, exasperated by Fighter's sheer ridiculousness.
"YES! Now, hug me!" Fighter insisted, pulling Saint in for a hug since Saint was taking too long.
"What game are you playing this time, Fight?" Saint sighed defeatedly, wrapping his arms around Fighter.
Fighter suddenly spread his feathery, large blue wings upwards, causing Saint to gasp in surprise. He freed himself from Fighter's arms and stepped backward to get a better look. Saint's brown eyes reflected the glimmering blue lights from the angel's mesmerizing wings. The silky blue sheen surrounding the wings made them appear even more magical. The wings flapped gently but exerted strong winds, causing Saint's hair to blow in the breeze.
"Can I... can I touch it?" Saint hesitantly approached Fighter. Fighter nodded, smirking at Saint, who didn't notice as his eyes were glued to Fighter's majestic wings.
Saint closed the gap between them, his hand trembling slightly as he extended it towards the angel's wings. "Wow..." he breathed in awe as his fingers finally touched the soft feathers. The fragrance of fresh flowers filled his senses once more.
"You are so beautiful..." Saint murmured under his breath, mesmerized by the sight.
"Me or just my wings?" Fighter smirked playfully, but his expression turned nervous when Saint shifted his gaze to meet his eyes directly.
"You," Saint replied without hesitation.
Saint's intense stare caused Fighter's knees to weaken. Fighter's wings stirred and gently curved around Saint, enveloping him protectively. The corners of the wings touched Saint's back and lightly pushed him towards Fighter. They were so close that they could feel each other's breath. With almost the same height, their faces were perfectly aligned.
"H-hug me and hold tight," Fighter stuttered, his mind and heart racing with Saint being so close.
Saint let out a soft, shaky breath, realizing where this moment was leading. He wrapped his arms around Fighter again, clutching onto the angel's long sleeves tightly. Resting his chin on Fighter's firm shoulder, Saint felt a rush of warmth and closeness between them. Fighter held him so tightly that not even a thin paper could pass between them.
"Are you ready?" Fighter whispered into Saint's ear, his voice filled with tenderness and anticipation.
"I... I'm actually scared," Saint nervously admitted to Fighter.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I won't do it then, if you're sca—"
"No, Fight. I really want to... just give me a minute," Saint interrupted, trying to calm himself with deep breaths. Fighter waited patiently, holding him close, prioritizing Saint's safety and well-being.
"I'm ready," Saint finally said, his voice steadier as he made his decision.
Fighter smiled, his wings spreading upwards again. Saint trusted him, and Fighter's heart swelled with happiness. He had been eager to show this side of himself to Saint, especially since their first meeting when Fighter was unconscious. Tonight felt like the perfect opportunity.
His wings flapped gently, preparing for takeoff, and soon they both began to elevate. Fighter could feel Saint's heart beating erratically against his chest.
"Fight..." Saint whispered, holding onto Fighter tightly with his eyes shut.
"It's alright. I'll go slow," Fighter reassured him gently.
They slowly ascended into the air, Fighter mindful of the speed so as not to frighten Saint further.
"Open your eyes. You'll miss the view," Fighter encouraged softly.
Saint tried hard to compose himself, realizing they weren't moving but staying in one place. He felt grateful for Fighter's thoughtfulness and care not to scare him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and was instantly breathless at the sight before him.
They were surrounded by a sea of white clouds, and the blue sky above was dotted with countless small stars twinkling cheerfully. The night stars seemed to greet him with their shimmering light, making the moon appear even more beautiful and magical than the stars around it.
"Fight... this is beautiful. Thank you," Saint said softly, overwhelmed by the enchanting scene.
"But you are more beautiful to me," Saint whispered softly to Fighter, his words carrying the depth of his gratitude and affection for the angel who had shown him such a breathtaking sight. Fighter's quiet hum spoke volumes in response, his eyes reflecting the shimmering stars above as they continued to float peacefully in the night sky.
