Insecurity tugs at Hapa’s consciousness. Late on a cool fall night, chest pressed into the back of the tall, lanky model he’d idolized for three years. They’ve been officially together for six months, but why does he feel so… Strange about it. It doesn’t feel real, in a sense. He knows it is real, but lying here with him nestled back into his chest, posters tacked up across his bedroom with his likeness on them, his clothes on his floor. It feels fake. Like it’s just a dream he’ll wake up from. Yet it feels too real at the same time. He knows his habits, knows his bedtime routine, knows the smell of his favorite soap, knows that he’s a light sleeper. Knows the way he cuddles up closer to him when he wakes up briefly in the night.

How could someone who’s so gorgeous in every way love him without judgment. Surely the relationship won’t last… He feels terrible for daring to think this way, but… A model? Together with him? Just some guy working at a restaurant and working grizzco shifts? Wouldn't he rather be with someone more similar to him? Like another model, or someone in the industry? Grumbling to himself, he nestles his face further into dark tentacles, arms grabbing at his thin waist tighter, sniffling to himself. He shouldn't cry over scoring his model of a boyfriend, yet here he is, tears smudged across navy blue tentacles.

“Mmh?”

Fuck.

Senta’s freckles pulsated gently as he stirred, stretching his long arms out in front of him. He grabbed the yellow octopus pillow from across the bed, tugging it close as his arms returned.

Hapa sniffled again behind him unintentionally, alerting Senta to what had woken him up in the first place.

“Mhh… Love?” His voice was raspy and barely there, but concern still lingered behind it. He shifted slightly to look over his shoulder at the other.

“Mm…” Hapa could feel his tentacles sneaking their way to join his arm across his waist. He couldn't muster the energy to push past the lump in his throat and speak quite yet.

“You’re still awake?” He took Hapa’s warm hand into his own, letting the tentacle wrap around his finger. He shifted to lay on his back, placing their hands together on his stomach.

Hapa simply nodded into the pillow, sniffling yet again, not trusting his voice. Hearing this, Senta shifted his body to fully face him, hand now moving blindly to the other’s cheek, only to be met with dampness. “Love? Are you crying?” Worry laced his words as thumbs brushed away tears. “Hapa, what’s wrong, dear?”

His name being used in place of a pet name was all it took for him to finally break. Tears freely streamed down his face as he choked back sobs and curled his trembling body into Senta’s. “I’m… S-Sorry… I- I don’t know-” Hapa choked out between sobs, barely able to get his words out. Shocked at the suddenness of the sobbing, he tugged Hapa close, tucking his head into his chest. “Hey, shhh it’s okay, Hapa. I’m here for you, it’s okay.” He didn’t quite understand what was happening, but he pet soothing circles up and down the other’s quivering form regardless.

Clawed hands gripped at the back of Senta’s shirt and tentacles curled around Senta’s wrists behind his own back. His sobbing slowly began letting up, his shaking becoming less persistent. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t…” He sniffled particularly hard, he wasn’t one to cry so easily, “I don’t know what came over me…” He could feel snot and messy tears getting all over Senta’s shirt. A model shouldn’t be lying here in bed, covered in snot from someone who was clearly a lower status.

“Don’t be sorry, love. Do you want me to turn on the lamp and we can talk?” Hapa could feel the vibrations of him speaking, his hearts beating gently, calmly. His head was gently tugged off of his chest, forehead kissed gently. He let out a whine at just how gentle Senta was to him, so careful and loving. He wearily nodded at the question, though he really doesn’t want to have to explain why he was crying, it was probably for the best.

Getting an answer from Hapa, Senta turned and leaned across the bed to switch on the small bedside lamp. A warm glow filled the room and when he turned back to Hapa, he was met with a snotty, tearful expression. He looked down to see just how snot covered his own shirt was, “Oh Hapa… C’mon love, sit up for me.”

He squints at the suddenness of the light, but slowly shuffles to sit, papillae-covered legs tangled with smooth, slim legs