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It’s early morning. Dawn fights its way through the slits in the blinds, the pinkish hue of sunrise basking them in light and beautiful color. Jimmy feels a weight in his arms, comfortable and soothing against his chronically cold body. Forever does he crave the warmth that is Tango, still fast asleep beside him.
Jimmy doesn’t want to stir him, but he’s content to hold him until the warm colored hues of the sky fade to a pale blue. Then, he has to get to work. But he intends to extend this moment for as long as possible. The peacefulness etched in the face of the netherborn is so rare to see, so entirely foreign to his daytime self, and Jimmy wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.
And when the avian presses a gentle kiss to his temple and Tango doesn’t stir, he takes it as a small win.
Tango never sleeps well, he’s always so busy. He never has enough time in a day to do what’s expected of him, he’s told Jimmy countless times on particularly frustrating days. But today, he seems content, and Jimmy couldn’t be happier.
He admires the way the flames of his hair dance and sway, even in his sleepiest states, though dimmed to a dull glow now.
As Jimmy presses another small kiss to his forehead, the fire sparks and crackles as if a silent and unconscious acknowledgment of his appreciation, even as the netherborn stays deep in his slumber.
Tango has never hurt him. He’s never gotten too emotional around him and accidentally burned him. With Jimmy, Tango has always been exceedingly gentle. Since the moment they met, that fateful day in the forest after a particularly painful and…explosive death. Jimmy can remember it like it was yesterday.
The way the explosion felt, a blinding and agonizing pain just before it killed Tango, and consequently, Jimmy as well. They’d both woken up sore, the way they often did after a particularly traumatic death. And there he was, perched in a treetop, still nursing a headache from the unfortunate blast.
And Jimmy wouldn’t change anything for the world, as he looks down at the sleepy netherborn huddled against him. Not the early death, not the enemies made, not the agony of losing each other when all is said and done. Because right now—right now is all that matters. As Tango stirs, just enough to look up at Jimmy and give him a smile he craves oh so much. Just enough to squeeze him a little tighter, mumble something incoherent, reach for Jimmy’s hand. He’d trade this moment for nothing at all.