Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first thing Aou noticed was the weight behind his eyes - that familiar, dull pressure that came after too little sleep or a bad fall. His head pounded like someone had dropped something heavy and it landed right behind his forehead, like a hangover without the fun.

The second thing he noticed was… warmth.

Not the stale kind from a studio trailer or the blaring heat of stage lights, but a soft warmth - like sunlight filtering through curtains and the faint hum of someone making breakfast not far  away.

He could smell toast.

Not burnt - not the half-charred kind he made himself when sleepwalking through a call time - but warm, real toast. Like something out of a brunch menu. It wafted through the air in waves of butter and quiet clatter.

He opened his eyes slowly.

The ceiling above him was pale cream. Not his.

He blinked.

The surface under him was soft, unfamiliar. A couch. Wide, tidy in a lived-in sort of way. A knitted blanket was draped half over him, like someone had tucked him in. Light flooded in from wide windows across the room. Late morning, probably. Golden sun filtered through thin white curtains, casting lazy rectangles across the wood floor. 

Someone was humming.

Aou turned toward the sound - the open-plan kitchen across from the couch.

Boom.

Hair still sleep-mussed, wearing an oversized black sweatshirt and loose pajama pants, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, barefoot. He was moving like this was a normal morning - like he belonged here.

Aou’s heart skipped a beat, then stumbled again when another voice rang out.

“Papa? You awake now?”

Aou turned his head slowly.

There, on the floor by the coffee table, a little girl, her dark hair half-tied and already falling loose, sat cross-legged in purple pajamas covered in stars. She had a marker in one hand and was frowning very seriously at a sheet of paper. A small stuffed rabbit lay facedown beside her. She looked at him and grinned.

Bright brown eyes, a little round face, expressive eyebrows that crinkled with frustration. Familiar.

Too familiar.

He didn’t know her.

Except… he did. Somehow. Her face tugged at something too deep to place - like remembering a dream after it already started dissolving.

“Papa,” she repeated, not impatient - just waiting.

Aou stared.

The girl blinked at him. “Are you sleepy still?”

“I told you not to wake him up, sweetie.”

A moment later, Boom appeared, holding a glass of water in one hand and a pill packet in the other. He looked… domestic. Soft hair. Sleep creases on his forearm. A slight lean to his stance like he’d been up and moving for a while. Comfortable. Familiar.

Aou blinked again, slower this time.

Boom handed him the water and pills. “You okay? You looked out of it earlier. Take one now, one before dinner.”

Aou blinked. “Earlier?”

Boom smiled like it was an inside joke. “You tried to put peanut butter in the rice cooker.”

“I what?”

Boom’s smile widened, warm eyes scanning Aou’s face. “You hit your head yesterday, remember? During the shoot. Not serious - just an action scene that didn’t go quite right. Doctor said you’d probably feel foggy for a few days.”

Aou opened his mouth - but before he could find something to say, the little girl spoke again. 

Boom walked over, crouched next to the girl and tapped the paper gently. “The whiskers go out, not down. That’s why your cat looks sad.”

“It’s a moody cat,” she insisted.

“Okay, moody cat. But even moody cats don’t cry like this.”

The girl sighed. “Fine. I will draw something else.”

Aou stared at them.

“Who is she?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Boom turned. His expression shifted - not confused, not upset. Just… surprised.

“What do you mean?” he asked carefully.

Aou glanced at the girl again. She looked up, like she’d sensed his voice going weird.

“I-” Aou cleared his throat. “I mean, I didn’t hear her name. What was it again?”

Boom frowned slightly but didn’t press.

“Ceri,” he said gently. “You named her. Don’t you remember?”

The world tilted.

Aou stared at him. Then at her.

Ceri.

That name shouldn’t have meant anything. But it hit like a soft blow to the chest. Ceri was a mascot. A brightly colored, star-headed mascot. Not a real child. Not… this.

“I… think I hit my head harder than I thought,” Aou said, trying to keep his voice level.

Boom came closer, kneeling slightly in front of him. He reached out, brushed a thumb along Aou’s cheekbone with familiar ease.

Aou blinked, tensed slightly, heart racing.

Everything about this was wrong. Or right. That was the problem.

Because nothing felt alarming. No one was confused. Not Boom, not the kid, not even the house. It was warm. Familiar. Like he’d been here before. Like he belonged here.

But he didn’t.

His last clear memory was - what?

The filming set. Lights. Everything after that was fuzzy. Like a part of his brain had been quietly taped over.

“Still with us?”

Aou nodded, a beat too late. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… dizzy.”

Boom studied his face with a different kind of concern now. “You sure you’re okay? You looked better earlier.”

Aou gave a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah.”

Boom didn’t push. He sat down next to him on the couch, not touching but close enough to radiate warmth.

“I’m drawing you, Papa,” Ceri piped up from the coffee table, matter-of-fact. “And Daddy. And me. But I made you too tall and now Daddy looks small. It’s okay, though. I’ll fix it later. I will make whales too.”

There were framed photos on the shelves. The three of them - smiling at the park, or eating noodles, or wearing matching T-shirts that said “Papa,” “Daddy,” and “CEO of Snacks.” Aou had never seen those shirts before in his life. But there they were. In full color.

The little girl - Ceri - held his hand in every picture.

Aou cleared his throat. “Where… are we?”

“What do you mean? We’re at home.”

“...Your…place?”

Boom tilted his head, like the question was strange, concern back on his face. “Our house. Are you messing with me?”

Aou forced a smile and hoped it looked natural. “Ha… you got me.”

Boom rolled his eyes at him. “That’s not funny. I was actually worried.”

Ceri abandoned her drawing for a moment and climbed up beside them like it was the most natural thing in the world, plopping into their laps. “You said I could have snack toast today. That still true?”

“Uh,” Aou said.

“She’s been negotiating toast since breakfast,” Boom said. “I already caved.”

“Yay!” Ceri jumped up and scurried back to her drawing.

Boom let out a laugh. “We’re raising a tiny tyrant.”

Aou swallowed. Our house. We’re raising a kid.

He watched as Boom stood up, ruffling Ceri’s hair on the way back to the kitchen.

Ceri barely looked up as she continued talking at Aou. “I drew all of us now and I did a sun and a cloud and two whales. I need one more whale.”

“That’s a lot of whales,” Aou said - automatic, uncertain, a little shellshocked.

She grinned. “You said that last time too.”

Aou fell asleep again. When he woke up the second time, he thought maybe he would wake up from this strange dream, but all that had changed was the light streaming in from the windows and Ceri watching a cartoon on low volume next to him while Boom was making himself tea.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. It’s already five.”

Aou sat up slowly, making space for Boom to drop down onto the couch next to him.

“Sorry… still tired, I guess.”

“Feeling a little better now?” Boom offered a warm smile.

Aou tried to ignore whatever gymnastics his heart was doing and nodded.

Ceri crawled over to them, wedging herself between them like she belonged there.

“What are we doing tonight?” she asked.

Boom looked at her, then at Aou. “We were supposed to meet the others for dinner. But if you’re not up for it…”

Aou tried not to flinch when Boom touched his wrist lightly - just a brush of fingers.

“We can stay in,” Boom said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah,” Aou replied, unsure why his voice was so quiet. “That’s fine.”

Ceri beamed. “Can we watch a movie?”

Boom ruffled her hair. “If Papa’s feeling up to it.”

Aou nodded automatically, trying not to panic.

“Okay. I’ll let them know. Want me to cook?”

“I can help,” Aou offered, though his voice came out weaker than intended.

Boom smiled. “Yeah? You sure?”

Aou nodded. He wasn’t. But he had no idea how else to anchor himself.

Ceri padded into the kitchen a few minutes later, dragging her plush rabbit behind her. “I want the pink pasta.”

Boom raised a brow. “You had pink pasta yesterday.”

“I know.” She blinked. “But I want it again.”

Boom turned to Aou. “What do you think, Papa?”

Aou felt that word like a punch to the ribs every single time.

“Pink pasta it is,” he said, trying his best to smile.

Boom leaned over to him and kissed his temple.

Aou nearly dropped the pot for the spaghetti.

After dinner, Boom let Ceri pick a movie. Something loud and colorful and full of talking animals. Ceri curled against Boom’s side on the couch. Aou sat at the dining table nearby, folding laundry just to keep his hands busy. He had insisted on doing it, despite Boom telling him to just leave it for him to do tomorrow.

The lights were dimmed. The warm glow of the TV flickered across their faces.

Boom glanced at him over Ceri’s head, eyes soft.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said. “Still feeling okay?”

Aou nodded. “Yeah, all fine. Just a bit off still.”

Boom smiled faintly. “You’re still cute, even when you’re a bit off.”

Aou looked down at the socks in his lap, trying not to show how hard his heart was racing.

 Eventually, there was no more laundry to fold, and so Aou joined them on the couch, Ceri immediately shifting to curl up against Aou with a familiarity that made his chest ache.

Boom was settled on the other side of the couch, half-leaning into him, arm slung across the backrest - his hand brushing Aou’s shoulder every now and then.

Ceri fell asleep before the movie ended.

Boom carried her gently to her room. Aou followed. Her room was full of things. Toys. Stickers. Books stacked sideways. She had a small night light shaped like a cat and her own framed photo of the three of them on her shelf.

Boom tucked her in. Aou stood in the doorway, afraid to blink in case it all vanished.

Afterward, they sat on the couch again.

“I’ll do the dishes in the morning,” he said.

Aou sat down beside him again, hands clasped together tightly. Boom leaned in, slid an arm around him again.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, quiet now.

Aou nodded.

Boom kissed his neck - soft and unhurried.

Aou jolted slightly, barely hiding it. His heart stuttered.

Boom pulled back. “Something wrong?”

“No,” Aou said quickly. “Just… caught me off guard.”

Boom didn’t push. Just smiled again, sleepy. “You’ve been acting a little weird today. Kind of endearing, honestly.”

Aou’s heart was pounding in his chest, his thoughts racing.

How had he and Boom ended up here? Ceri being a child was one thing. A very insane, definitely crazy thing. But Boom apparently… having feelings for him? Being in love with him? Aou’s devastating, tragic, unrequited love for his on-screen partner and actual friend being reciprocated being a reality? 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Boom said softly, pulling Aou from his confused internal ramblings.

“I was scared for a second,” Boom continued. “When you didn’t remember things at the hospital.”

Aou swallowed. “Sorry.”

Boom shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I just… I’m glad you’re here.”

And then - impossibly - Boom leaned in and kissed his lips. Quick. Familiar. Without hesitation. Just a short press of lips, as if it was something they did a million times a day, every day.

Aou’s breath caught.

Boom pulled back, smiling warmly. “I’m going to sleep. You coming?”

Aou nodded.

He lay in bed later with the sound of the movie theme still looping in his ears, Boom curled around him, Boom’s chest against his back, an arm slung across Aou’s waist, the warmth of something he didn’t remember building quietly in his chest.

He closed his eyes.

But sleep didn’t come easily.

Aou woke up early. Not because of an alarm, or a child jumping on him - but that kind of early where the light looked too still and the silence felt intentional. He blinked, slowly, eyes adjusting to the pale gray spilling through the bedroom window.

Boom’s arm was still slung across his stomach. The weight of it made Aou pause. It was warm. Casual. Familiar.

But not to him.

He stayed like that for a moment - not moving, not breathing much - just staring up at the ceiling and letting the quiet settle over him. He didn’t want to disturb Boom. Not just because he looked peaceful, mouth slightly parted, lashes long against his cheeks. But because Aou wasn’t sure what would happen if he saw Boom’s eyes again right now.

He needed a moment to think.

He slipped out from under the blankets with careful precision, shuffling to the edge and lifting himself out of the bed with the kind of grace that only came from years of sneaking off set mid-nap.

The floor was cool under his feet. The hallway was dim. The living room was washed in early morning blue, curtains half-closed. The house was quiet. Lived-in. Cozy.

And deeply unfamiliar.

Aou wandered.

He found himself drawn to the kitchen first. It was tidy but familiar in a personal way - the kind of clutter that meant someone actually cooked here. A coffee mug sat next to a plate of half-eaten chips from the night before. The fridge was covered in magnets - mismatched souvenirs, alphabet letters, a photo booth strip of Boom with whipped cream on his nose and Ceri clinging to his back, both of them grinning like idiots. A glossy picture of the three of them at some sort of series premiere, Ceri included, dressed to the nines.

And the drawings.

Ceri’s drawings - uneven, chaotic, colorful. Taped to the door with washi tape, layered slightly over each other. Crayon-scribbled masterpieces labeled in block letters: “Papa.” “Daddy.” “Me.” One had all three of them holding hands under a giant smiling sun, with a rainbow overhead and several questionable animals at their feet. Another showed Boom and Aou kissing - drawn with the subtlety of a six-year-old with a pink crayon obsession and an affinity for glitter. Aou stared at that one a little too long.

The fridge door opened stiffly when he pulled it. Inside were leftovers, two kinds of milk - one oat, one cow - and a container of cut-up mango. On the lid, a post-it note in Boom’s handwriting: Don’t eat this, it’s for the princess.

Aou let the fridge close and stepped back, heart thudding with something too complicated to name.

He wandered into the hallway. More photos lined the walls - candid ones. Him, Boom, and Ceri at a night market, eating grilled squid on skewers. Ceri asleep on Aou’s chest on a couch that might’ve been this one. Boom kissing Aou’s cheek while holding a sparkler. Aou smiling too hard to pretend it didn’t mean something. In one, Ceri was asleep in Boom’s arms, with Aou smiling at both of them like he was the happiest man alive.

His fingers hovered just short of the wall, like touching would make it realer.

There were more photos tucked into the edge of the mirror near the door. The three of them on a picnic blanket. One of Boom with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, Ceri climbing on his back. A blurry one of Aou and Ceri mid-laugh, cheeks squished together, looking ridiculous.

He stepped back. His reflection blinked at him.

What was this life?

And why didn’t he remember building it?

He stood for a long moment at the edge of the living room, trying to piece together what it meant that his handwriting was on the grocery list and his face was in the photo frames, but his memory was an empty hallway echoing with questions.

Eventually, he heard soft footsteps behind him.

Boom stood there, hair messy, wearing the same oversized shirt from last night.

“You’re up early” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Yeah,” Aou said automatically. “I just… couldn’t sleep. Guess I slept too much during the day yesterday.”

Boom walked past him into the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. “You should’ve woken me. I would’ve made you coffee.”

Aou followed, slowly. “I thought you’d be tired.”

Boom pulled him close by the waist and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Not too tired for you.”

Aou swallowed hard and looked away.

Ten minutes later, Ceri tumbled out of her room with her rabbit in one hand and her hair a nest on her head. She grinned when she saw him sitting at the table, drinking his coffee. “Papa, you didn’t wake me!”

“You were sleeping so well,” Aou offered, unsure what else to say.

She climbed into his lap like she’d done it a thousand times. “Are we going to the store today?”

Boom, leaning against the kitchen counter, finishing the last of his own coffee, nodded. “We’re out of everything. You promised you’d pick the snacks, remember?”

Ceri lit up. “I want the jelly ones with the bears.”

Boom turned toward Aou. “You up for it? Grocery run, then maybe swing by P’Ying’s to drop off that package?”

Aou hesitated. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Great.” Boom smiled. “You good to drive?”

Aou blinked. “Who else?”

Boom raised a brow. “I mean… I can, but you always complain that I take every corner like I’m in an action movie chase scene.”

Aou coughed.

When did Boom get a driver’s license? 

“I’ll drive.”

Ceri sat in the child seat of the cart, waving one of the two stuffed animals she had brought along as shopping companions and asking questions at top speed - what aisle had the good yogurt, why spaghetti wasn’t shaped like letters, if they could buy another lion plush because this one had “a bad attitude.”

Boom handled it all like a practiced magician - answering patiently, redirecting, occasionally bribing.

Aou felt like an understudy in a life that wasn’t his.

He noticed the way people looked at them as they passed. Smiling. Familiar.

The woman at the fresh produce stand said, “Oh! Back for more grapes?” and winked at Ceri.

Ceri pointed. “That’s the grape lady.”

Aou nodded politely.

A few aisles later, Boom leaned in while comparing two kinds of soy sauce and kissed Aou on the cheek. Quick. Casual.

Aou flinched. Not because it was unpleasant - it was far from unpleasant - but because it was public. Broad daylight. Fluorescent lighting. Aisle twelve.

His body went rigid, brain flashing through possibilities - had anyone seen? Were there cameras? Was this going to end up online? His instinctual panic flared like muscle memory.

Boom paused. “Sorry - too early for PDA?”

His heart spiked. “P’Boom-”

“What?”

“There are people-”

“So?” Boom stared at him like he’d just spoken a language he didn’t know. “You know the fans love us. If they see us being all… soft like this, they’ll start crying again.”

“Again?” Aou echoed, baffled.

Boom grinned and nudged him with a shoulder. “You really don’t remember the Valentine’s Day post?”

Aou opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“You posted a pic of me holding Ceri while she had chocolate all over her face, and you captioned it, ‘Two valentines, zero chill”. We were trending for, I think, three hours? You were really proud of that caption, even though it sucks.”

Aou just stared at him.

“You okay?” Boom asked again, more serious now.

Aou nodded quickly, gripping the tote bag a little too hard. “Yeah. Just… head stuff.”

Boom studied him for a second longer before kissing his temple - softer this time, almost apologetic.

They moved on, Aou pushing the cart like nothing was wrong. But inside, his thoughts were cracking down the middle. This life was not the one he remembered. This version of Boom was loving him openly, in public, in daylight - not the quiet looks and long silences of platonic friendship he was used to.

By the time they reached the checkout line, Ceri had charmed the cashier into giving her a sticker, Boom had snuck three of Aou’s favorite snack packs into the cart, and Aou was convinced he was either dreaming or losing his mind.

Outside, as they loaded groceries into the car, Aou felt like his heart was too far behind the rest of him - like he’d left it somewhere back in aisle four.

That night, dinner was fried rice with chicken. Ceri devoured it and insisted she would “grow taller than the moon” if she ate enough. Aou tried to follow the conversation. He was beginning to understand the rhythm of things - how Boom moved in the kitchen, the way Ceri insisted on three ice cubes in her juice, how the salt shaker was always in the wrong place.

It was terrifying how easily he could slip into it.

After dinner, Boom volunteered to do dishes. Aou sat on the couch with Ceri, who was curled up beside him with a book already in her lap.

“Your turn,” she said. “You promised the other day. Daddy always says you do the voice better.”

Aou looked down. The book had a glittery unicorn on the cover.

He cleared his throat. “Okay. Let’s see…”

He opened the first page and immediately stumbled.

Unicorn of the Rainbow Mountain was not a plot he was familiar with. And Ceri clearly knew it by heart.

“That’s not the voice,” she said with a frown after three lines.

“What voice?”

“The unicorn voice. You do it sparkly.”

“I… don’t remember how I did it.”

She looked at him for a long moment. Not upset. Just serious.

“You’re still my Papa, right?”

The question broke something in his chest.

“Of… course I am.”

She nodded and tucked herself to his chest, head resting against his shoulder, like that was that. “You’ll remember soon. Daddy says sometimes the brain is like a jelly jar.”

Aou blinked. “A what?”

“Sticky. But things come out eventually.”

He laughed - real, startled.

At some point, she yawned halfway through a sentence and fell asleep against him by the end of the second chapter. Aou didn’t move. Not for a while.

Boom found them like that - Ceri curled up, snoring slightly, Aou still holding the book.

“She passed out on you,” Boom said softly.

“Mid-word.”

“She does that again lately. Growth spurt incoming, probably. I can take her.”

Boom lifted her gently, with practiced ease, and Aou followed as he brought her to bed. Boom tucked the blanket around her, kissed her forehead. Aou watched, hands deep in his hoodie pockets to keep them from shaking.

They sat on the couch together. A movie played in the background, but neither was fully invested in it. Boom curled into his side like he always did. Or - apparently always had.

Aou wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

Boom was warm against him. Head resting on his shoulder. Aou didn’t move. He couldn’t. His body wasn’t cooperating with his brain.

“You’re being really quiet today,” Boom said after a while. “Like, really, really quiet.”

Aou’s voice was low. “I’m just… overwhelmed.”

Boom shifted to look at him. “You sure you don’t want to see a doctor? Go to the hospital again and get checked out?”

Aou shook his head, searching for a truth that made sense and settling on something that at least wasn’t a lie. “I’m fine. I just have some… memory gaps.”

Boom reached up - cupped his face with one hand, soft and steady.

“It’s okay,” he said, eyes searching his. “But I’m here. We’re here. You’re okay.”

Aou nodded slowly.

“I only have a schedule in,” he paused to think about it, “three days. Four days, I think. Need to check my calendar. Other than that, I’ll be here. Ceri’s here. And you still have a couple days of rest. Hm?”

He smiled reassuringly and something warm and heavy settled in Aou’s chest.

Boom leaned in, without hurry, certain. Aou tensed for a moment when Boom’s lips met his, sure and familiar in a way Aou didn’t know how to hold. 

They had kissed before, so many times, in front of the camera, between takes to get into character. 

But not like this. 

Boom’s hand cradled his cheek, his jaw gently, lips moving, and Aou gave in.

It was warm, slow.

And terrifying.

Aou tasted the caramel candy on Boom’s tongue he’d had after dinner, because Ceri decided she didn’t like it in the end even though she had insisted on buying it, and it almost made his brain short-circuit.

When they pulled apart, Boom was still close. He pressed another kiss to Aou’s mouth, a quick one this time, only a peck.

“Whatever’s going on,” Boom said, “it’s going to be fine.”

He smiled at him again, as if all of this was just a regular Tuesday night activity for them - and it probably was, for all Aou currently knew - and lay back down, curling into Aou’s side.

Aou’s gaze flicked to the TV screen, where a woman cried at someone’s bedside, and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

The lights were off. The hallway was quiet. The whole house felt like it was holding its breath.

Boom was already in bed when Aou emerged from the bathroom - fresh-faced, towel slung over one shoulder, hair still slightly damp. He moved slowly, trying not to think too hard about the soft lamp glow beside the bed or the fact that Boom was cozy under the covers with a book resting against his chest like this was normal.

Like it had always been normal.

Aou stood in the doorway for a long moment, feeling the weight of the room settle on his shoulders. Then, slowly, he crossed the space and slipped under the blankets beside Boom.

It should have been a little awkward maybe. Somehow, it wasn’t.

Boom didn’t say anything - just closed the book quietly, marking the page, and set it on the nightstand, turning off the lamp. He shifted slightly, body turning towards Aou, eyes searching his face.

“You look like something’s still on your mind,” he said softly.

Aou looked down at his hands, fidgeting under the covers. The words had been building all evening, crowding at the back of his throat, but he hadn’t really known how to speak them.

Now, in the hush of this room - where the only sound was the hum of the fridge down the hall and the soft whir of the AC - there was nowhere left to hide.

He took a slow breath.

“P’Boom…” he said, voice quiet. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember this,” he said. “Any of it.”

The silence that followed stretched too long.

Boom didn’t speak right away. His expression didn’t shift much - no shock, no denial. Just a stillness. His eyes searched Aou’s face in the dim light.

“You’re scaring me a little,” Boom said eventually.

“I’m sorry,” Aou replied quickly. “I just… I need to be honest. I woke up and everything felt- wrong. Not in a bad way, but like- I don’t remember this life. Not Ceri being… like this. Not us living together. Not us… not me being with you. I only remember us on set. Being friends. Me-” He stopped, forcing himself to breathe. “Me having… feelings for you. Quietly. Secretly. Like, one sidedly. Nothing more.”

Boom’s jaw moved, like he was holding something back. Maybe a breath. Maybe a thousand words.

“You really don’t remember anything?”

Aou shook his head. “Not a single thing.”

Boom’s brow furrowed, eyes dropping to the space between them. He didn’t pull away. But something in him shifted.

Aou couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or just sadness.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Boom shook his head quickly. “Don’t be.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I know.”

Silence again.

Then Boom reached out - not hurried, not desperate, just steady. His fingers brushed Aou’s.

Boom let out a slow breath. “Then let me show you what we have. You don’t have to force anything. You don’t have to pretend. Just… stay. Let it come back naturally. If it does. Or… if it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out.”

Aou’s heart ached in his chest - tight, hot, confused.

“Is it okay if I hold you?” Boom asked, suddenly unsure. “You don’t have to say yes. I just- I sleep better when I do.”

Aou nodded. “It’s okay.”

Boom shifted closer, slow and tentative. Aou turned on his side. Boom's arm lifted up to curl around Aou’s waist, palm resting gently against his ribs. Aou’s back met his chest. Their legs tangled a little under the sheets. It wasn’t how they usually touched - not like strangers, not like lovers. But it was careful, kind.

“Goodnight,” Boom whispered against his neck.

“Goodnight,” Aou echoed.

He didn’t sleep for a long time. But when he did, it was dreamless.

The next time Aou woke up, it was to the sound of birds - distant, muffled - and the faint scent of coffee in the air. Sunlight filtered through the curtain, casting patterns across the sheets. He blinked awake to find Boom already sitting up in bed next to him, sipping from a mug, hair messy from sleep. He looked down the moment he noticed Aou stirring.

“Morning,” Boom said.

“Mm.” Aou sat up slowly. He wasn’t dizzy, but something still felt… loose somewhere in him, in his chest maybe.

Boom leaned forward, elbows on knees, holding the mug with both hands.

“So,” he said, tone light, “we probably need to talk about boundaries.”

Aou blinked. “Boundaries?”

Boom gave him a crooked smile. “I mean… if you really don’t remember any of this - us - I don’t want to just assume anything. Even if you have- had feelings for me.”

Aou sat up a little straighter.

Boom sipped his coffee. “So. You tell me what’s okay and what’s not, and I’ll stick to it.”

Aou hesitated. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Boom met his eyes. “I want you to feel safe. Even if you don’t remember me the way I remember you.”

That landed heavy in Aou’s chest. He looked away.

A beat passed before Boom said, “So… can I still hold your hand?”

Aou glanced at him, then down at the sheets.

“…Yeah,” he said.

“Can I hug you?”

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Aou’s mouth. “Yeah.”

“Kiss your cheek?”

Aou gave him a look. All of this was part of their standard fanservice after all.

Boom grinned, just a little smug. “Gotta ask.”

“Yes.”

“Kiss your neck?”

Aou’s ears went pink. “P’Boom-”

“I’m just checking,” Boom said innocently.

Aou rolled his eyes. “Fine. Yes. But-”

“But?”

“Take it slow.”

Boom’s smile turned softer, pleased. “Slow is good. I can do slow.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Aou’s temple. A lingering, careful one.

“You’re going to fall for me all over again,” Boom said, pulling back with a wink. “Just watch.”

Aou groaned and pulled the blanket over his face.

Boom laughed - bright and unrestrained. The sound made something flutter in Aou’s chest.

They got up not long after. Ceri ran out of her room a few minutes later with bed hair and a plastic wand, demanding breakfast “right now, or I will turn Daddy into a frog.” Boom laughed and dared her to try.

True to his word, Boom spent the day treating Aou like a crush he was trying to impress.

He held the door open for him. Carried his drink. Let their hands brush “by accident” in the hallway. Ceri found the whole thing extremely entertaining.

“Why are you treating Papa like a prince today, Daddy?” she asked at lunch.

“Because Papa’s memory’s funny,” Boom said cheerfully.

“Oh,” Ceri said. “That’s okay. Papa’s still cute.”

Boom nearly choked on his rice out of laughter.

Aou covered his face.

A little later, Boom insisted on cleaning the terrace while Aou and Ceri were drawing. “Because last time someone made it rain glitter out there and we’re still finding it in our shoes.”

Ceri gasped in defense. “It was for the fairies!”

Aou laughed softly.

After a while, Boom returned, brushing glitter off his sleeves. He leaned against the doorframe and gave Aou a look.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Boom said. “Just thinking about how I’m going to make you fall crazy in love with me again.”

Aou felt heat rising to his face. “Don’t say things like that.”

Boom pushed off the frame and walked past him to the kitchen. “Why not?”

“You sound too confident.”

Boom grinned, shrugging one shoulder. “Exactly.”

There was something so familiar, yet so different about this Boom, this version of Boom, than what Aou was used to. The warmth, the ease, the confidence with which he showed affection and love in every action, every word. It was so like Boom, and yet… not. There was something sad about the fact that he had lost out on experiencing that journey, that transition of when the Boom he used to know turned into this version of Boom, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

They went for a walk. Ceri skipped ahead, yelling at birds. Boom walked beside Aou, close enough for their arms to brush, but didn’t reach for his hand - not until Aou let his own fall loose between them, just enough for Boom’s fingers to find his. He laced them together without a word.

That afternoon, Ceri disappeared into her room for a whole forty minutes and came back with three drawings - one of their house, one of their family, and one of a jellyfish named Yin who was also a lawyer. She insisted they be taped to the fridge. Aou helped her, silently wondering how much of this he’d missed. How much he might still forget.

After dinner, Boom declared that Aou wasn’t allowed to help with the dishes because “he’s recovering” and “princes don’t do chores.” Aou objected to both points and was immediately hit with a soap-slicked sponge. He retaliated with a towel. Ceri clapped.

That night, Ceri climbed into his lap again with a new book. This one had sparkly dinosaurs.

“Use the voice,” she said firmly.

Aou hesitated.

Boom glanced over from the kitchen. “You used to do a very dramatic T-Rex.”

Aou took a breath, then gave it a shot.

Ceri giggled immediately. “More growly.”

Aou growled and gave the T-Rex a lisp. She laughed so hard she hiccuped and Boom peeked in to record it on his phone. 

By the time Ceri fell asleep, she was still smiling.

Boom helped Aou tuck her in, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re doing great.”

“I’m trying,” Aou said.

Boom kissed him softly on the cheek. “You don’t have to try. Just be here.”

Later, Boom found Aou in the kitchen looking out the window.

“Want to watch something?” he asked.

Aou nodded. “Sure.”

They sat on the couch again - the same place, the same way - except this time, Boom didn’t curl in automatically.

Instead, he asked, “Can I?”

Aou looked at him.

And nodded.

Boom slid into his space, warm and familiar. The movie started, some romantic comedy neither of them were paying much attention to. 

“Hey.”

Boom tilted his head to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient. For not making me feel… guilty. About forgetting.”

“You said you’d never felt this happy before,” Boom said after a moment. “That you didn’t know you could feel this safe. That you wanted to keep it forever. I know you don’t remember that right now. But I do.”

Aou blinked, stunned.

“You’re allowed to forget,” Boom continued. “It doesn’t change the fact that we’re yours.”

Aou’s throat felt tight again.

Halfway through the movie, Boom leaned closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he murmured, low but just loud enough for Aou to hear over the movie.

Aou’s breath caught.

“Is that okay?” Boom asked, barely above a whisper.

Aou nodded slowly.

Boom’s hand found his cheek. The kiss wasn’t rushed - just deep enough to catch, to linger, to settle somewhere behind Aou’s ribs. Like a memory trying to come home.

And Aou let himself kiss back. Slow, a little uncertain, but with feeling.

The next few days passed in a series of soft, golden moments - ones that felt like a warm exhale, like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. They felt like a loop of pleasant, intimate routines.

Aou woke up most mornings with sunlight flickering on his eyelids and Boom’s arm draped over his waist, fingers loose and familiar. The world was quiet in that early hour, with only the hum of distant traffic and the soft rise and fall of Boom’s breath for company. Sometimes, Ceri was curled at their legs, a tiny arm dangling off the mattress, surrendered to sleep with all the abandon of childhood.

Those mornings, Aou just lay there for a while - watching Boom’s relaxed jaw, the slight curve of his mouth in sleep, the way his hair fell across his forehead - and let the warmth settle into him like a quiet promise.

One morning, he felt movement across his chest.

It was warm and insistent and soft.

He blinked down to find Ceri, hair mussed from sleep, eyes half‑closed, curled against him like she’d found the only comfortable spot in the world.

“Papa,” she mumbled.

Her little voice was drowsy with sleep, and there - in the quiet hush of early light - Aou felt something in his chest thrum.

Not just familiarity.

Belonging.

He didn’t move.

He let her fall asleep again there - head on his chest, tiny hand curled against his shirt - while the sun tracked across the sky and Boom remained asleep beside him, unaware for now but present just the same.

The first outing that felt like a true turning point was a promotional event at a mall - not for Aou, but for some product Boom was promoting.

It was loud. Busy. Colorful. The usual stuff Aou was used to, familiar with. Banners. Lights. Fans holding signs with glitter and old photos. Taking pictures and squealing. It felt grounding in a way, but also new, because he wasn’t here alone to support his friend. He was making his way carefully, slowly, along the sidelines of rows of fans, trying not to be seen, a tiny hand in his, little steps trying to keep up.

“Don’t let go of my hand, Papa.” She didn’t say it with fear in her voice, but with confidence,  proud, almost like a fact, as if it was a practiced statement, something like a ritual.

He looked down at Ceri and nodded, offering a smile, still keeping an eye on his surroundings. “Stay close, okay?”

Boom was on stage, answering questions from the host, collected and cheerful - the kind of confident softhearted version of himself Aou knew, the one he had fallen for, after all, ages ago.

They found a spot towards the back, near a pillar, fans near them, but it didn’t seem like they had been recognized yet. Or if they hadn’t, nobody had reacted.

Ceri was dressed in an outfit that somehow combined a tutu with black boots and insisted it was “performance attire,” although she hadn’t been performing. Aou had found it adorable so he hadn’t argued with her. 

He pulled the baseball cap he had put on a little bit lower on his face, still feeling nervous, despite Boom’s assurances that fans knew about them, were okay and even supportive. His palms were a little sweaty.

“Shoulders, Papa.”

And that’s how it was now.

Aou in the crowd.

With Ceri on his shoulders.

Who was waving a glittery purple “Ceri <3 Daddy” sign Aou had helped her make earlier that morning at her insistence.

Boom glanced into the audience - a casual scan at first - and then froze just for an instant when his eyes landed on Aou and Ceri. But it wasn’t a startled freeze. It was like recognition lighting up in his expression - warm, delighted, gentle.

He continued what he was saying, then hummed into the microphone, pointed lightly, and said, “Sorry I got distracted a little - there’s my family.”

People turned to them. There were squeals and screams and cheers and oohs and ahhs and camera shutters and Aou’s heart was racing, his ears burning, and Ceri was giggling, waving happily.

The faces around him were smiling. People calling their names. Taking pictures. People waved back at them, at Ceri like she’d been a fixture at these events forever.

One fan shouted, “We love this family!”

“Hi Ceri!”

Another, “Papa’s so cute!”

There was no mockery in their voices, no malice, no confusion. Just warmth and affection.

Aou’s chest constricted - not from embarrassment, but from something strangely tender. Because Boom didn’t pull back. He didn’t clarify. He didn’t correct the assumption. He owned it.

Aou swallowed, breath catching a little, and watched Boom slip back into the program as if all of this was normal, like this was all simply their life.

Maybe… it was.

Boom’s kisses weren’t timid.

They didn’t hover on the brink of being something forbidden. They weren’t the quick pecks of a new romance. They were easy. Natural. Something that fit the spaces between breaths, like he’d been doing it forever. Aou learned this quickly.

One night after dinner - the kind where Ceri ate too much and still insisted on dessert - they sat on the couch in the dim light of a late show.

Boom’s arm was around Aou, his hand resting against his waist.

Aou wasn’t thinking about anything except the warmth of Boom’s palm and the way his voice sounded - low and familiar - as he narrated something in the show that wasn’t actually funny.

Boom nudged him lightly.

“That line was funny,” Aou whispered back, uncertain why his voice had turned gentle.

Boom smiled.

Then Boom’s mouth was on his.

Not teasing.

Not hesitant.

Just… soft and warm and right.

Aou didn’t pull away.

He kissed back.

Slow enough that when Ceri stirred in her sleep on the couch next to them a few moments later, they only paused to exchange a soft, private smile.

Boom would kiss Aou before he left for the set. Aou would hug him before he left for a schedule. They would both let Ceri hug and kiss them goodbye if they had to drop her off at the babysitter.

Aou would spend the day on set with a lightness in his chest he couldn’t explain - like a soft secret just behind his ribs. And every night, their home welcomed them back like a warm hug.

When Aou returned to set, it felt jarring at first, but he quickly slipped back into old habits, even if they all felt slightly shifted to the left.

At a late shoot one day Boom dropped by, exchanging greetings with fellow actor friends and pressing a light kiss to Aou’s temple when they picked up a coffee at one of the trucks somebody’s fanclub had sent as support to set that day. 

Aou found himself holding a sleeping Ceri on his chest during a break between takes. Her arms were loosely draped over him, head buried in his shirt, tiny snores ticking out in gentle rhythms.

Somebody on set raised an eyebrow. Then another. Then a small crowd gathered at a respectful distance, whispering:

“Is that-”

“Ceri?”

“Oh wow… she’s so big already now…”

And then someone snapped a photo.

Aou didn’t wake her. He just sat very still, letting the warmth of her sleeping body anchor him, Boom’s presence beside him like a soft shield. When Boom finally stepped closer to come up behind him, silent as a shadow, he laid a hand over Aou’s shoulder - steady, calm, familiar.

Aou glanced up, met Boom’s eye, and shared a small, tired smile. 

“I’ll take her home. See you when you get back. Drive safe.”

Boom carded a gentle hand through the hair at the back of his head.

Aou let it happen.

Boom and Aou had an interview scheduled - a short chat for a variety show, something light and friendly. Ceri didn’t want them to go.

She clutched her rabbit at the door, bottom lip trembling. “I don’t want the babysitter. I want Daddy. And Papa. And - and the snack toast.”

Boom crouched to her height. “Ceri… We’re just filming for a bit. You like the babysitter, no? She can read you a story, maybe build a blanket fort… we’ll be back before you know it, hm?”

Ceri’s eyes welled up. “But that’s not the us story.”

Boom pressed his lips together, sympathizing. Aou’s heart tightened.

“It’s okay,” Boom said softly. “We’ll be back really soon. Okay, sweetie?”

Ceri’s lip quivered even more. She hugged her rabbit close, eyes glistening.

And Aou - not knowing why it hurt so much but feeling it keenly - crouched next to her too.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice gentle. “You’re not alone. We’ve left before for a little bit and we always came back to you, right? We will come back this time too, I promise.”

She sniffed. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Aou echoed.

Boom wrapped an arm around both of them, and for a long, quiet second, they stayed like that - three warm bodies tangled in softness, a little girl vulnerably clinging to the world as she knew it.

Ceri sniffled again, then said, matter-of-factly, “I hate babysitters.”

Boom laughed quietly. “You don’t have to love her - she’s nice, though.”

Aou patted Ceri’s head. “She’s not a villain.”

Ceri glared at them both, dramatically. “I just want my family.”

Boom’s eyes softened. Aou’s chest felt warm.

“You have your family,” Boom said slowly. “And we’ll be right back. Just like we promised. Be good, okay?”

She kissed Boom’s cheek - a quick, decisive peck - and then turned to Aou and did the same.

“Don’t forget me,” she said.

“Never,” they said together.

One night, when Ceri was tucked in - star pajamas and all - and Boom was rinsing dishes, Aou lingered at the countertop watching.

Boom glanced over his shoulder. “Long day?”

Aou nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good day?” Boom corrected.

Aou paused - and then smiled, slow and real. “Yeah.”

Boom set the sponge down and dried his hands. Then, with that easy confidence, he turned Aou around and wrapped his arms around Aou’s waist from behind.

Aou breathed in, steady and warm.

“You know,” Boom said into his shoulder, “I’m glad you’re here. Even if some things are a bit fuzzy in your memory.”

Aou leaned back slightly, letting the warmth seep into him.

“Me too,” he replied.

Boom tilted his head and brushed a light kiss to Aou’s cheek - delicate, slow, reassuring.

On days where both of them could be home for dinner, they had an easy rhythm - the kind that felt casual but intimate, like breathing. Dinner was often something simple: noodles, pasta, fried rice, sandwiches made with too many toppings and not enough restraint.

One night, after Ceri was asleep, Boom and Aou collapsed onto the couch with a movie neither of them were actually that interested in, just to have something on in the background.

Boom stretched out, arm along the back of the couch. Aou leaned into him on instinct. Boom made a content little sound. Aou didn’t question it.

Boom’s lips brushed his temple - casual, familiar - and Aou’s breath caught a little.

“Slow,” Aou murmured, partly to himself.

“I know,” Boom replied softly. “We’re going at your pace.”

Aou swallowed, heart buzzing with the weight of Boom’s nearness.

He leaned in just a little - enough to feel Boom’s warmth against him - and Boom’s hand slid over his, clasping fingers gently.

Chapter Text

The morning stretched out like soft light spreading across unmade sheets. Aou woke up to the now familiar warmth of Boom’s arm around him, the steady rise and fall of his breath like a quiet promise he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Boom was already awake - not fully, but enough to be aware.

“You’re up early again,” Boom murmured, voice low and warm, half‑buried against Aou’s shoulder.

“Sunlight,” Aou said, voice heavy with sleep. “And the birds.”

Boom smiled, just a little. “Not ready to get up yet?”

Aou shook his head. “Not really.”

Boom’s hand found his hip beneath the covers, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles. There was confidence in Boom’s touch now - not tentative, not cautious, just easy and natural and entirely without pressure.

Aou closed his eyes and let that comfort wash over him.

It was one of those mornings where the world was still quiet, like time had taken a pause between breaths. Outside - somewhere beyond the walls - the day was waking up, but here, in the cocoon of warmth and tangled bedsheets, nothing else mattered.

Or at least, it didn’t until Ceri’s tiny voice drifted in from down the hall.

“Papa? Daddy? Breakfast?”

Boom lifted his head, face still peaceful, hair tousled like he’d fallen asleep mid‑thought.

“We’re coming,” he called back, which was exactly the way he said it every single time.

Aou sat up then, brushing the sleep from his eyes. “Let’s go,” he said quietly, like it was something he meant.

Boom slid out of bed with the ease of someone who had done this more times than he could count. There was tenderness in that quiet confidence - in the way Boom didn’t have to ask if it was okay to stay close, didn’t need permission to lean in for a morning kiss before breakfast.

And Aou found himself thinking - again and again - how normal it felt. How right. How easy.

Maybe that was love.

Boom was in one of his moods - not the sleepy domestic kind, but the teasing, shameless, flirty kind. The one where his words curled at the edges and his fingers trailed Aou’s arm for no reason other than to make him blush.

Boom had always been a little flirty.

It was a part of his charm - the sideways glances, the cheeky comments on set, the casual way he teased Aou when they first worked together more closely. Back then, Aou had learned to laugh it off, hide how fast his heart would pound every time Boom winked or brushed past him too close.

Now, though - now it was different.

Boom didn’t flirt like someone testing the waters. He flirted like a man in love. Like someone who knew exactly what they had and wasn’t afraid to show it off.

“You always stare when I cut fruit like this,” Boom said over his shoulder, slicing a mango with practiced ease. “Should I be concerned? Or flattered that you think I’m hot when I cut fruit?”

“I’m not-” Aou paused, caught. “I’m just watching.”

Boom glanced back, amused. “Uh-huh.”

He popped a slice into his mouth and then, deliberately, reached for another piece and held it out to Aou without turning. “Here. Open.”

Aou hesitated.

Boom’s voice dipped. “Come on, don’t be shy. You’ve eaten out of my hand before.”

Aou leaned forward. The mango was sweet and cold against his lips. The tips of Boom’s fingers brushed his lips for just a split second. Boom turned just enough to see the flush on his cheeks and grinned like he had won something.

It was like this a lot now.

Boom wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t demanding. He just flirted with that same easy affection he always had - like this was their rhythm. Like his hands on Aou’s hips when they passed in the kitchen, or the kisses to his cheek after they brushed their teeth, or the thigh pressed to his on the couch - were all just gravity doing its thing.

He kissed Aou’s temple while making toast. Wrapped his arms around Aou’s waist while Aou was brushing his teeth. Leaned in to whisper things like, “You still make me nervous, you know,” or “I fall in love with you at least twice a day.”

Aou never pushed him away.

He told himself he was still adjusting. That it was all still unfamiliar. But he had stopped counting the days. He didn’t want to. There was something too dangerous about looking back now.

Because this life felt good.

Ceri crawling into bed in the mornings, mumbling nonsense and wriggling under the blankets until she was wedged between them like a satisfied cat. Boom resting his chin on Aou’s shoulder in the elevator of the GMM Building, swaying them gently back and forth while waiting for the right floor.

Boom’s smile. Boom’s hands. Boom’s lips. Boom’s everything.

It was terrifying how easy it all was.

He wasn’t sure when the ache for answers had started to soften. Maybe it had been the moment Ceri made him hold her bunny during her bath. Or when Boom texted him “get snacks or I’ll bite” during a long schedule and Aou bought every flavor of seaweed at the store, just in case.

Either way, the urgency had faded.

He still didn’t remember what came before. But the now - this - was so full, so rich, so alive, that he didn’t want to waste it on wondering.

Something in him had started to loosen, like he was finally exhaling after holding his breath too long. The anxiety was still there, sure, at the edges. The worry about memory, about where he really was, the confusion. But it was quiet now. Muted under the weight of something stronger.

This life - the one he couldn’t remember building - fit him too perfectly.

It was easy to fall into it.

Like putting on a coat in winter and realizing it was made just for you.

They went to the park on a Sunday.

It was Boom’s idea. “We’ve been cooped up too much. Ceri’s going to start turning into a couch goblin.”

“Too late,” Aou said, grinning.

Ceri, who had overheard, gasped and shouted, “I’m not a goblin, I’m a forest fairy!” and then insisted on bringing three plush animals, a picnic blanket, and two juice boxes.

They drove with the windows down. Boom hummed along to a song on the radio while Ceri narrated a dramatic saga in the backseat about saving a magic strawberry from the evil onion king.

Aou watched them both, looking over at Boom in the passenger seat every now and then, glancing up at the rearview mirror back at Ceri in the backseat - Boom’s profile in the sun, fingers tapping along on his thigh to the beat of the song playing softly from the radio. Ceri’s messy ponytail bouncing as she recited dialogue between her rabbit and her lion plush.

And in the midst of all that, he felt something in his chest bloom.

They laid out the blanket near a tree that offered just enough shade. The park wasn’t crowded. Families lounged nearby, kids screamed on the playground. It was peaceful.

Boom stretched out, sunglasses perched on his nose, arms behind his head.

Aou sat with Ceri as she arranged her plushies in a circle. “This one’s the prince. This one’s the king. This one is the bad guy but nobody knows yet.”

“Oh,” Aou said. “A plot twist.”

She grinned. “He looks cute but he’s actually evil.”

Aou leaned in, deadpan. “Relatable.”

Boom laughed from his spot on the blanket. “Is this a dig at me?”

Aou looked over his shoulder at him, sunlight dancing in the strands of Boom’s hair. “Only if you’re cute.”

Boom raised his sunglasses and grinned, slow and confident. “You think I’m cute?”

Aou flushed. “You’re annoying.”

“But cute,” Boom sing-songed.

Aou turned back to the plush drama unfolding at his knees, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his mouth.

He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here - to this picnic blanket dotted with crumbs of bread and spilled juice, to this warm afternoon with Ceri chasing butterflies at his feet, to this life where Boom was gentle, confident, affectionate, and his in ways that felt both foreign and familiar.

A little later, he watched Boom settle next to him on the blanket - Boom with his sleeves rolled up, hair tousled from the wind, that calm look in his eyes as he smiled at Ceri showing off how fast she could run without tripping.

“Look, Papa! Daddy! I can go super fast!” she declared, tiny feet kicking up dust as she sprinted.

Boom laughed, and Aou felt something tender and sharp in his chest at the sound - not painful, exactly, but vivid, like a brand new memory forming even though he couldn’t remember the old ones.

Boom and Ceri had a rhythm together: playful back‑and‑forth, teasing nudges, quick exchanges that felt like they’d always known each other. Aou didn’t remember how they became this family. But when he watched Boom ruffling Ceri’s hair or showing her how to make a daisy chain, the scene felt too warm and too right to resist.

Ceri eventually ran back, clutching a chain of blossoms like ancient treasure. “Papa, look! I made one for each of us!”

Boom accepted his with a mock‑serious nod. “Thank you. I will wear this proudly.”

Then he leaned over and kissed Aou - quick, light, like that was the most natural thing in the world.

They stayed like that for hours - Ceri pulling them into her games, Boom chasing her around the grass when she declared it was “run time,” the three of them collapsing into a pile of limbs and laughter as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

At one point, Boom looked at him and Aou saw it again. That expression. Like Boom wasn’t just happy. Like he knew he was lucky. Like he couldn’t believe he got to have this. And something in Aou’s chest ached. He reached for Boom’s hand without thinking and held it.

He decided, right then, to stop questioning it.

He would enjoy it.

Even if he never remembered how he got here.

That night, the air was warm when they got home. Ceri was sleepy from the sun, limbs heavy, mouth sticky with juice. Aou carried her inside, her cheek pressed to his shoulder, rabbit drooping from one hand.

Boom followed with the blanket slung over one arm and the half-empty water bottle in the other.

They moved in sync - washing up, changing clothes, dimming the lights. The house quieted around them like it knew it had been a tiring day.

Ceri was out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow.

Boom and Aou stood over her for a moment, just watching. She curled toward her rabbit, face peaceful, hair stuck to her cheek.

“Looks like a little angel when she’s not yelling,” Boom murmured.

Aou smiled softly. “She’s amazing.”

Boom looked at him then. “She’s yours, too.”

That landed somewhere deep within him.

They brushed their teeth in the bathroom, shoulder to shoulder. Aou caught Boom watching him in the mirror once, smiling to himself like a man in love.

And later, in bed, they lay facing each other, legs tangled, fingers intertwined beneath the covers.

Boom’s voice was soft in the dark. “You really don’t remember us becoming a family?”

Aou looked at him and shook his head. “No. I wish I did.”

Boom studied him, unreadable for a beat.

“I don’t remember what I said the day I told you I loved you,” Aou added, “but I think about it. About how happy I must have been. How lucky I must have felt. Because I feel it now. I love this life. Her. You. Us.”

Boom’s expression softened. He reached out and brushed his fingers along Aou’s jaw, thumb pausing just beneath his cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

Aou nodded, just once.

Boom leaned in, brushing his nose lightly against Aou’s. His voice was low, gentle, smooth. “Then I don’t care if you don’t remember. I’ll make you remember.”

Aou didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because Boom was already kissing him.

And something inside Aou unlocked.

The kiss was deliberate, deeper, firmer, than the ones before. Like Boom wasn’t asking anymore - he was inviting. Every part of it felt like a memory being written over the ones Aou couldn’t find - fingers in his hair, thumbs on his cheekbones, the heat of Boom’s body curling around him.

Boom kissed him like he was trying to light every nerve in his body. Like he was reclaiming something they’d lost.

Every touch was a promise: I know you. I love you. I have loved you.

Their bodies fit together in a way that felt practiced - like they had done this countless times, like their rhythms already knew each other.

Boom’s hands were reverent, skimming under Aou’s shirt, across his ribs, down his sides. Every inch of skin felt like it remembered, even if his mind didn’t.

The room was warm. Soft shadows danced across the walls from the city lights. The sheets tangled between them as Boom eased him back against the pillows.

Aou gasped as Boom’s mouth found the hollow of his throat, his chest arching instinctively.

Boom laughed, low and breathy, lips against his skin. “Still sensitive.”

“Shut up,” Aou whispered, tugging him down again for a kiss.

Aou moaned softly as Boom mouthed along his collarbone, trailing heat down his body in slow, deliberate lines.

He reached for Boom blindly, pulling him close, hands threading into his hair, gripping his back, fingers curling with need.

They moved like they had nowhere else to be. Like time wasn’t real in this space. Like they could stay tangled in this moment forever and no one would come to wake them.

It was messy. Sensual. Slow. A conversation in touches and breath and the quiet sounds people only made when they trusted each other completely.

Boom whispered things - soft nothings, endearments Aou only half heard but fully felt in his chest. His voice shook once, just briefly, when he cupped Aou’s face and said, “You still look at me like you did the first time.”

And Aou - raw, open, aching - kissed him back hard enough to answer everything at once.

Boom kissed down his body, murmuring things Aou didn’t fully catch, only felt - soft words, between breaths, the kinds of things people say when they think no one will remember later.

Aou remembered all of it.

He remembered how Boom groaned into his mouth when Aou tugged him closer.

He remembered the way their hips moved, slow and in sync, like they’d done this a hundred times and still couldn’t get enough.

He remembered the weight of Boom’s hands, the press of their foreheads together, the soft breathless noises they both made.

It was emotional.

It was perfect.

They came together like it meant something. Like they were making up for lost time.

After, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, hearts slowing in time, skin damp with sweat, legs still intertwined under the sheets.

Boom kissed his shoulder, his chest, then his cheek.

Aou turned his head and kissed him back.

Not to say anything.

Just to feel it again.

Just because he could.

Boom brushed strands of hair away from his eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

Aou didn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”

Chapter Text

Aou woke up to sunlight, as always, as usual.

The sheets were warm around him, the room quiet in that familiar, comfortable way it always was in the mornings. His hand instinctively reached toward the other side of the bed - where Boom’s body would normally be, where he would usually feel the rise and fall of soft, steady breathing and the weight of an arm curled loosely around his waist.

But it was empty. Still warm, but empty.

Aou blinked and sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “P’Boom?”

No answer.

He stretched a little, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, bare feet hitting the wooden floor. It felt colder than usual. The air somehow thinner. Something in his chest stirred - not panic, exactly, but unease. Like a dream gone slightly off course.

He padded into the hallway, expecting the usual sounds - Boom making breakfast, Ceri humming to herself while arranging her toy animals into some elaborate battle formation.

But the house was quiet.

Not morning-quiet. Too quiet.

He glanced toward the living room.

No sign of toys on the floor.

No rabbit plushie half lost in a pillow fortress.

The hallway was too clean.

His steps felt too loud.

“P’Boom?” he called again, voice tighter this time. “Ceri?”

Still no answer.

He made his way to the kitchen. The counter was bare. The mugs were gone. The drawings on the fridge were-

His heart stuttered.

The photos were… wrong.

One of them - the photo of the three of them at the night market, Ceri holding a skewer in one hand and Boom kissing Aou’s cheek - was… fading. Like someone had taken an eraser to the center. First, Ceri’s bright dress disappeared. Then her hands. Then her whole body.

Aou took a step back.

He turned his head quickly to the other photos, now frantic - the beach trip with Ceri buried in the sand, her face grinning beneath a sunhat - her shape fuzzed out, disappearing like smoke.

One by one, all of them.

Gone.

Even the drawing she’d done last night - the one where she’d given Boom purple hair and labeled him “Super Dad” in bright, uneven letters - was crumbling at the corners.

Aou reached for it and watched the paper dissolve between his fingers.

His breath caught. He spun around, heart thudding, panic rising within him.

“Boom?!”

He stumbled back into the hallway, checking rooms now - Ceri’s door creaked open. Her bed was made. Neat. Unused.

Like she hadn’t been there at all.

“No, no, no-” Aou whispered to himself. “This isn’t right. Where is she?”

He turned back toward the hallway, trying to remember what day it was, trying to remember when she had last spoken, touched him, hugged him. Her laugh already felt too far away.

His chest squeezed. Hard.

The mirror in the hallway caught his reflection. He turned, startled by it. But what startled him more was that there were no photos tucked into the corner anymore. Just a blank frame.

The living room glitched.

It was so sudden it almost knocked him off his feet.

For a fraction of a second - less than a blink - the room disappeared.

The furniture vanished. The colors dulled. The world turned grayscale, like a television losing signal.

Then, just as quickly, everything snapped back.

The couch. The rug. The scent of coffee in the air.

But the bookshelf was gone.

And the daisy chain she and Boom had made yesterday - the one they’d left in a small glass cup on the window ledge - was missing.

Like it had never existed.

Aou’s chest was tight now. It felt like there was a rock sitting inside his ribcage.

He turned and bolted toward the bedroom, toward the only constant he had left.

Boom.

Boom was standing near the edge of the bed, dressed in his sleep shirt, hair messy, hands in his pockets like he’d been waiting there the whole time.

“P’Boom-” Aou choked out. “Something’s wrong-”

Boom looked up at him, his face soft, calm - but not confused.

“I know.”

Aou crossed the room in two steps and grabbed his wrist. “Where’s Ceri? The pictures - the fridge - the drawings - it’s all-”

“It’s okay,” Boom said gently.

“No, it’s not- It’s not-” Aou’s voice cracked. “I think this isn’t real.”

Boom didn’t argue.

He didn’t try to convince him otherwise. He just reached up and placed a hand against Aou’s cheek, thumb brushing his skin softly.

“Of course it’s not,” Boom said, voice like silk. “But you knew that, didn’t you? Somewhere deep down.”

Aou stared at him, frozen.

The words felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dropped on his head.

“I wanted it to be real,” he said weakly. “I didn’t care… if it wasn’t. I was happy. I- I love you. I love her.”

“I know,” Boom said again, eyes tender. “That’s why it felt real.”

The world around them dimmed. Like everything behind Boom had turned translucent, one shade too pale. Like a set piece being taken down, gently, respectfully.

Aou’s throat was tight, grief curling behind his ribs like a fist.

“I’m scared,” he said. “I don’t want to lose this.”

“You’re not losing anything,” Boom said, his voice still gentle, thumb still stroking lightly across Aou’s cheek. “You’re just… going back.”

“To what?” Aou asked, hoarse.

Boom’s hand stayed on his face. “To us.”

“But you’re here. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” Boom leaned in and kissed him softly, just once. “I’ll still be there when you wake up.”

Aou closed his eyes.

For a moment, there was only breath between them. Shared, steady, quiet.

Then a voice - small, sweet, and impossibly close - broke the silence.

“Papa?”

Aou turned, sharply.

There - just by the door - was Ceri.

She looked the same as always. Hair in slight disarray, rabbit in one hand. But her outline flickered at the edges, like light shining through fog.

“Ceri-”

He dropped to his knees as she ran toward him. Her arms wrapped around him. Her head pressed to his chest.

“It’s okay, Papa,” she said into his shirt.

“I don’t want to leave you-”

“I know,” she said, a smile in her voice, even if it was muffled through the fabric. “But you can wake up now.”

Aou’s arms tightened around her.

Her hands loosened.

The warmth began to fade.

Boom knelt beside him, wrapping an arm around both of them.

They stayed like that - a perfect echo of their little life, the perfect little dream they had shared.

Until the light pulled away.

Until the house disappeared.

Until all that remained was the warmth in Aou’s chest.

And the sound of his own breath.

Aou woke to the low beep of a monitor and the faint antiseptic scent that only ever belonged to hospitals. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar - off-white with tiny perforated dots, static in a way the sky never was. He blinked slowly. His eyelids felt heavy. There was a strange weightlessness in his limbs, like his body was floating just slightly out of time.

The world came into focus slowly - familiar shapes pulling themselves into place, one by one. A slow drip from an IV. A scratchy blanket tucked around his legs. 

A hospital.

He blinked.

Tried to sit up.

A dull ache bloomed behind his eyes, pulsing at the base of his skull. He groaned softly and brought a hand to his temple.

“Aou?”

The voice was instant. Familiar. Real.

His gaze shifted toward the corner of the room.

Boom.

His hair was styled messily, makeup faded around his eyes, his hoodie unzipped just enough to show the edge of the t-shirt he’d been wearing on set. He was sitting in a chair, slumped forward, arms braced on his knees. His eyes were bloodshot, locked onto Aou like he’d been staring at him for hours. Aou looked at him for a long moment, unsure if he was dreaming.

He wasn't.

The pain in his head, the quiet hum of machines, the faint shuffle of footsteps in the hallway outside - it was all too real.

Aou blinked again.

Boom exhaled a shaky breath, then surged up out of the chair and crossed the room in three quick steps.

“You’re awake,” he said, voice cracking with relief.

Aou opened his mouth. Closed it again. His throat was dry, but he managed a hoarse, “Yeah.”

Boom leaned over, careful not to jostle him, and cupped the back of his head with a tenderness that made Aou’s chest tighten. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Aou blinked at him. “What… happened?”

“You hit your head during the fight scene,” Boom said gently. “The stunt wires got tangled. You went down kinda hard. Hit your head on a prop crate. You were out cold for a few minutes.” His voice softened. “They brought you here to monitor you overnight. You’ve been sleeping since last night.”

Aou touched his temple again. Everything felt… slow. Distant. But not in a bad way.

More like coming up from underwater.

Aou blinked again, eyes trailing over Boom’s face.

He suddenly remembered something. Not a memory, exactly. A feeling.

Something warm.

He turned his head, half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“I think I dreamt about you.”

Boom stilled.

Aou stared at the ceiling. “And Ceri.”

Boom’s breath caught - just slightly.

“I saw her again,” Aou murmured. “We- we had this life. We lived together. Like a family. It was just us and her. We cooked and went on errands and ate pink pasta.” He let out a soft breath. “You were annoying. So flirty.”

Boom didn’t speak.

Aou smiled faintly to himself. “It felt so real.”

His heart beat gently in his chest - not frantic, not aching, just steady. Calm.

Like waking up from the best kind of rest, the kind where you know the dream was beautiful even if the details are already slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

When he finally looked over, Boom seemed quiet.

“Was it nice?”

Aou smiled.

It wasn’t a sad smile. Not distant. Not wistful.

It was warm.

Like the end of a good dream. Like the warmth that lingers even when the images start to fade.

“Yeah,” he said. “It was really nice.”

Boom reached for his hand - no hesitation. His fingers wrapped gently around Aou’s knuckles, thumb brushing across the back of his hand in slow, quiet strokes.

“I think you talked a little about it in your sleep,” Boom said, finally. “You said my name once or twice. You said hers once, too.”

Aou’s heart fluttered. “Do you remember what I said?”

“No, you were just mumbling.” Boom’s smile was soft. “But… you looked peaceful. Like you were somewhere you really didn’t want to leave.”

Aou nodded, throat tight again.

“I don’t remember everything now,” he admitted. “It’s already slipping. Like a dream that gets blurry the moment you try to explain it. But… the way I felt - I think that’s still here.”

Boom’s grip on his hand tightened just slightly. “You saw her again.”

Aou nodded.

Boom smiled, but it was a sad one this time. “I wish I had.”

Aou squeezed his hand.

“And me?”

Aou offered him a smile. “You were there the whole time.”

Boom brightened a little. “Then I’m glad.”

There was a lull - not empty, just quiet. Like the last few seconds of a sunset.

Then Aou said, “Hey.”

Boom blinked at him. “Yeah?”

Aou’s smile turned shy - almost nervous. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Boom stared.

Then - with the kind of softness that people don’t earn, only find - he laughed. Not loudly, just pure, surprised, caught off-guard.

“I thought I already was,” he said.

Aou’s ears flushed pink. “Well, I don’t know… with all the... Ceri craziness and then our schedules, and now this… we never really got to talk about it. Like, what we are. Now. So. Just wanted to ask you. Like, officially.”

Boom leaned down, pressing a kiss to the back of Aou’s hand. Then another to his wrist. Then, very softly, to his lips.

“Okay,” he murmured, rolling his eyes dramatically, just to be difficult, just because he’s Boom, grinning all the while. “Officially yours.”

They sat like that for a while - fingers twined, sunlight creeping along the far wall, the quiet beeping of the monitor above Aou’s head marking time like a heartbeat.

Eventually, Boom leaned back and said, “You missed the worst cafeteria food I’ve ever had, by the way.”

“Oh no,” Aou replied. “I’ve truly suffered.”

“Want me to sneak in something better?”

“Please. I’m starving.”

Boom stood up, brushed a hand over Aou’s hair, careful not to jostle the small bandage along the side of his head. “Rest, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.”

Aou called out once more, softly, almost like an afterthought, “Hey.”

Boom turned, already at the door.

“Thank you,” Aou said. “For being here.”

Boom smiled.

“I’m always here.”

And then he was gone.

Aou let his head fall back against the pillow with a smile, eyes drifting closed again for a moment.

Somewhere in the haze of memory, he saw a little girl laughing in a tutu and boots. A warm arm wrapped around his waist. A glitter-covered drawing on the fridge.