I like watching him sleep. He looks so much softer then, with his stern lines relaxed at last. He needs to relax more often; he'll have wrinkles by the time he's 20 if he keeps scowling all the time. I understand he has a lot of pressure on his shoulders, though, so I try to ease him when I can. And it just happens to be to my advantage too.

He's at his most relaxed right after sex. Whether the giver or the receiver, he's always able to let loose at that one moment of extreme pleasure, and then it spreads through him, and I can just feel all his muscles release. He falls asleep rather quickly after that, though always with his arms still draped around me. I try my hardest to stay awake in those moments, holding my eyelids open as long as I can, so I can watch him at peace.

I like it when his breathing deepens, signifying the onset of dreams. Sometimes he smiles in his sleep, and every great now and then he mumbles. I know then he's dreaming about me. Of all the wonderful things he wants to tell me, but can never find the words to say when he's awake.

These moments are precious to me. As important as the times we spend together while conscious. There's a certain trust given when a person can allow themselves to sleep in the presence of another, and I treasure that.

And so I kiss his forehead.

I'll watch over you while you dream, Tezuka. You go there and I'll stay here and we'll meet again in the morning.