Ash leaned back against the couch, a rare softness in his usually sharp gaze as he watched Eiji fumble with the camera in his hands. Eiji was crouched near the window, trying to catch the perfect angle of the sunset, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Do you ever stop working?” Ash teased, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Eiji glanced over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue playfully. “You call this work? It’s a hobby. You should try one sometime.”

Ash chuckled, the sound low and genuine, something he only let out around Eiji. “Maybe my hobby is watching you.”

Eiji paused, his cheeks tinting pink, but he turned back to the window quickly, muttering something about “dumb lines” and “unfair teasing.”

Ash got up, crossing the room with ease, and sat down beside him. The golden light of the sunset bathed them both, and without thinking, Ash reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from Eiji’s face.

Eiji blinked, looking up at him, the camera momentarily forgotten. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ash murmured, his voice softer than the light filtering through the glass. “Just… don’t move.”

Eiji tilted his head in confusion, but then Ash leaned in, capturing the moment in his memory as if it were a photograph he’d never let fade.

“You’re ridiculous,” Eiji finally said, but his voice was warm, and his smile—oh, that smile—was the kind of thing Ash knew he’d fight the world for.