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The sun everyday shines bright, blazing in all its glory. But they say at night, it goes and hides itself away in the moon's arms, letting itself be protected by its quietness and coldness.
Hiiragi is like the sun; he shines everywhere he goes, he brings warmth and joy in a cold room, he smiles and laughs with everyone and at everyone. Hiiragi is like the sun and he is the sun, Shizusumi's sun. He is loud and he takes place, but at night he becomes quiet and locks himself in a room with Shizusumi, in a space with nothing but Shizusumi, and he lets himself be held by the only one he wants to care about, will care about, forever and ever.
Hiiragi is Shizusumi's sun and Shizusumi is his moon: a rock, a breath of fresh air, a new start and an end, the only end he will ever know. Shizusumi is quiet and cold and unsmiling, but caring and loving in his own way, in a way he only is with Hiiragi, in a way he is not, cannot be with the world.
The world loves Hiiragi and Hiiragi loves the world; his sun is so full of love, for everything, for everyone, but Shizusumi wants all this love for him and him only. He wants everything of Hiiragi, and wants to be Hiiragi's everything; little does he know that he already is. Hiiragi loves the world because it's a place where he can stay with Shizusumi. It's full of things they can share, they can like and dislike together. Things and people to remind him that nothing, no one will ever be as precious as Shizusumi is. That none of them will ever have him like Shizusumi does.
Hiiragi is the sun: he shines, bright and warm, and everyone loves him, but no one can really look at him without being blinded and hurt by his light; no one but the moon, who takes a bit of his light and envelop the rest of him in a protective darkness, hide him from a world where the sun cannot stay alone.
Hiiragi and Shizusumi cannot live without each other; like the sun and the moon, the day and the night, the light and the darkness, they begin where each other ends, ends where each other begins, and therefore cannot be in a world where the other isn't.
And so in the day Hiiragi smiles and laughs and sings with the world and for the world, and when comes the night, he lays in a dark room beside Shizusumi, breathes in his scent and lets himself be held in strong arms, and says
"I cannot remember a world where you weren't holding my hand."
Because Hiiragi, the sun, is thousands years old, older than the wars and the peace, older than humankind and older than the world, and he has been burning bright for so long that he cannot and do not want to be reminded of a time where it was him and nothing but him, him and not his moon.
So Shizusumi takes his hand and presses his lips against every inch of skin he finds there, from the tip of Hiiragi's fingers to his wrist. It's a promise, to never let go of his hand, never let go of Hiiragi. And he kisses him, again and again, like Hiiragi is something precious, something that must be treated with care and love and adoration, because after all, that's what he is to Shizusumi. Some kind of treasure, yet so much more than just a treasure.
Hiiragi is Shizusumi's whole world. He is something Shizusumi would live for and die for. Something Shizusumi cherishes more than his heart and his very soul. He is everything and anything, because there is nothing else, nothing more.
Shizusumi calls him beloved and Hiiragi lets himself be handled and kissed and touched the way Shizusumi wants to. He is worshipped by Shizusumi's ever-so gentle hands, loved in every possible way.
Hiiragi, always so perfect Hiiragi, comes undone under his lover's touch, is an absolute mess of feelings; fears and doubts, and joy and happiness, and love, always so much love. He is a raging storm, an unstoppable fire, an open wound. He cries and begs.
He is miserable yet so beautiful.
And Shizusumi cannot not tell him. In between kisses, he repeats how gorgeous Hiiragi is, and calls his name like a prayer. Because Hiiragi might ask and want to have more of Shizusumi, but he doesn't need him nearly as much as Shizusumi needs Hiiragi. The moon after all has no purpose if not reflecting the light of the sun.
So Shizusumi makes Hiiragi his. He takes all of Hiiragi and keeps him for himself, he hides him from the world —just a few hours, having his sun just for him. Hiiragi doesn't mind this, doesn't mind belonging in some way to Shizusumi. He could do anything he wants to Hiiragi, it would be all fine, more than fine. Hiiragi likes this, being like a god to Shizusumi, being held and kissed and adored by him. He'd gladly be anything Shizusumi wants him to be to have this till the universe comes to an end, till they come to an end.
And that's what they are, desire to be each other's desire, no matter what it is.
They lay together, fingers and bodies and souls intertwined.
"Where do you want to go next? Where do you want to be?" Hiiragi asks.
"Doesn't matter. Anywhere beside you is fine."
And so they move on, from a life to another. They cross centuries of wars, of empires, of destruction and of reconstruction. Nothing stays the same in this always changing world, except for what they have and what they are: love.
And maybe they were meant to love from afar, separated by lightyears, the moon and the sun looking at each other from across the space but never quite meeting. And maybe this collision between the two of them will destroy the world, set it all on fire. But they don't care, never care.
It's all about them and nothing else.