icarusalsoflew | 003. and in every raindrop... // open post.

[ If that's the case, then you're going to have to excuse him for the grip one hand of his has right at your elbow, and the way his other hand is cradling the side of your face. His legs, as well, are tangling themselves neatly with yours, and he's taking every opportunity to tease your lips with his lips, and let his tongue slide over your tongue.

You look amazing, and you smell and taste even more wonderful with each passing second. Who cares if he can hardly breathe over the force of his need, the heat between you both? He'll gladly lose himself in this.

Oh, and yes: you're everything to him too. You have been for quite some time now. ]

Edited 2014-11-30 15:13 (UTC)

[ He's starting to feel a little bit lightheaded from the way your tongues spar, so you'll need to excuse him if he stumbles a bit as he guides you both into that room and manages -- just barely -- to get that door closed.

He'll have you pressed up against it shortly after, hands roaming, hips rolling against yours as he tries to undo the button of your vest. His mouth is also fastening itself right under your jaw, with the faintest nip of teeth because goddamn you smell and feel so good. ]

[ Yes, okay. Please, please get him out of these clothes. He needs your skin. He can feel its heat from just under the fabric of your own suit, and he wants nothing more than to let his fingers/mouth run all over it, to see if it still feels the way that he remembers it feeling.

Your efforts are being rewarded with your boy bracing against that door, and the sound of his breathing - already short and ragged - tapering out into a whine once you start working at his neck.

Work at those buttons. He'll just drop that coat of his now, then slide his hands up the length of your body and underneath the shoulders of your own coat in order to push the whole thing off your form. ]

[ You'll feel the scrape of teeth over your skin, the hardness between his legs that presses up against your stomach, and the way he shudders when you touch him.

He's fumbling a little over those buttons now, but patience isn't a virtue at this very instant.

A nip at your ear then love, and a frustrated exhale of breath. ]

Dammit, what's your obsession with so many layers.

[ He'll kiss you full on the mouth all over again. He can't breathe without the air from your lungs. ]

[ That kiss of yours ends up swallowing the sounds of his amusement. When he breaks away from it, he does it step by step, with tinier kisses on your lips that culminate in him tugging playfully at the bottom of your lip. ]

The better to frustrate you with, my dear.

[ He has that smile that you may have seen on him before, when he's high on sex/a battlefield of choice and only climbing higher.

His hands are covering your own now, though, lacing his fingers between your fingers just once before guiding you through the motions of working on those buttons. Let's slow things down for a bit, shall we? Anticipation is everything. ]

[ He's leaning in again, pressing his forehead to your temple as he watches the way you're guiding his hands. Each breath he breathes in is a shudder in his lungs and it won't be long before he's lavishing attention on the other side of your neck, mouthing wetly over your pulse and tracing his tongue over it.

He wants to touch you, so badly. So, so badly. ]

[ There's a soft exhale from this one at the press of your lips/mouth/teeth, and the expression on his face cracks just a little more underneath the weight of his need. Still, he doesn't pick up the pace, even if you're making it very tempting for him to hurry up.

Once that last button's undone, however, he's letting one of your hands go in favor of snagging your chin, bringing your lips up to his, and kissing you hungrily, all over again. It's matched with the way he's moving, trying to steer the both of you towards the bed while remaining as close to your body as he possibly can. ]

[ His need for you is a hunger that claws at him, prompting his hands to move over your body and follow the familiar shape of you. He's doing his best not to trip over his own feet as he lets you lead, one hand snaking between your legs to cup you even as he sighs against your mouth.

When the back of his knee hits the edge of that bed, he'll snake an arm around you and let you both tumble in. ]

God, Hikaru [ a gasp ] please.

[ It has been way too long since he's felt your skin on his. Since either of you got lost in each other. Too fucking long. ]

[ You feeling him up makes his brain short out, and for a handful of heartbeats after that, he's moving on autopilot: kissing you harder, covering you a little more with his body in near perfect tandem with the way you're moving on that bed.

It has, indeed, been such a long time for the both of you, and now there really is nothing stopping you two from having each other like this
until his last breath, or until yours. That much, he could be a little more certain of compared to just about everything else in his world --

-- but before he could think more on that, there's a sharp lance of pain stabbing through his brain. It's enough to make him break away from how he's kissing you with a small, shuddered gasp. It happens so fast that he isn't quite able to keep his discomfort from showing on his face. ]

[ That's enough to make him slow down, to backpedal all the heat in the way he's touching you towards gentleness. He's seen discomfort flit across your face because he has you turned on, and he knows how to differentiate that from when you're in pain.

Cupping your cheek now and using the arm he has around you to steady you. ] Babe, what's wrong?

[ If he tenses up, it's because he's frustrated. So much for a good evening --

-- but maybe he can still salvage it, eh? ]

It's... it's nothing. [ Smiling at you as best as he can, and leaning in to kiss you once more. ] Let's just go back to where we've been since we got here, okay?

[ Please. Maybe distracting himself from this will, indeed, make everything better. (Or maybe he can just deal with it in order to be with you, and show you how much he loves you.) ]

[ He hesitates because he loves you. Because he knows how you can be, when it concerns the people you love.

That's the gentle caress of his fingers over your cheek now. ]

Hikaru, [ he indulges you both with that kiss. ] Talk to me, babe.

[ Let him be here for you, no matter how bad things get. Lean on him a little; he can handle it. For you, he'd handle anything. ]

[ But...

His eyes drop from your face at your words, and his lips press together in a tell that you're probably very familiar with by now. He does that whenever he's stopping himself from saying what's on his mind. ]

I'm fine, Josh. Really, I --

[ And then right on the wings of the building pain in his head, the nausea's rising up, knocking the breath right out of his lungs, shorting out what good and functional parts there are left in his brain. This fit is so bad, in fact, that he's not even aware of the pained noise that cut off the rest of his words, and the way he's right about ready to keel over.

(He's had a few over the past few days. You were just never around to see them, which is something that he's actually grateful for.) ]

Edited 2014-11-30 16:35 (UTC)

[ He moves instincively: cradling you close, holding you near and offering you what steadiness he can give because seeing you like this is bringing to mind how long you'll both have all over again and it stings.

But he's seen you in bad shape. He's seen you down for the count and he won't budge. It's not how long but how you make the most of it.

You said yes. That's all that matters. ]

It's okay, [ he murmurs that softly into your hair. ] It's okay. I've got you.

[ He hears you, but he can't speak over the agony washing through his system, wracking his body. It's all he can do to keep pushing the air in and out of his lungs, and try to pull himself back before he goes under.

It feels like it takes him a long time to come back up, and find his way through the blinding white of the pain threaded through his system towards you. In actuality, it took about ten minutes full of him braced against your body, trembling like a leaf, breath coming out in short, ragged gasps punctuated, on occasion, with tiny whimpers.

He's shaken in the aftermath, of course. Shaken and near incapable of thinking of nothing else but Shit, shit, shit.

Why now? Why did he have to have a fit now? Why, of all evenings, did it have to be this one that he's getting reminded, yet again, of how he's always dying a little more by the second, of the fact that he doesn't ever have enough time? ]

[ He's watching your face the whole time, heart aching in his chest as he waits those ten minutes out with you.

His eyes are damp. It's a terrible thing, that feeling of helplessness when you watch someone you love go through so much pain and know with certainty, that there is very little to absolutely nothing yoh can do about it.

Have a kiss to your forehead then, as he's curling protectively around you. ]

[ At this point, you bringing him in even closer and offering that small gesture of affection/reassurance is widening that little crack in his heart. ]

Sorry.

[ Okay, Hikaru Shinta. Try that again. You could barely hear yourself there. ]

Sorry. Kind of ruined the moment there.

[ He can't look up at you. He should probably try to instead of staring down at the ring you've slipped on his finger. But... ]

[ He's watching you closely, following the line of your gaze and then catching your chin with the his fingers to tip your face back up to his. What you'll see on his face is all the love he has for you, and he'll ghost his fingers over your cheek in a gesture of utter tenderness. ]

You didn't ruin anything.

[ This is just something you'll both need to figure out how to deal with together. He walked into this with his eyes wide open. He knows what he's gotten himself into by asking to marry you.

He's tangling his fingers together with yours again and holding on tight, thumb moving over that ring that rests against your skin. ]

It's you and me, babe. That's what this means.

I meant what I said when I told you that I'd love you forever.

[ He knows he doesn't have long, but you will. And the least he can do is to give you everything he can, while he can. If he can leave you with even that memory, that he loved you for as long as he was breathing -- that's a big thing. ]

[ But that only meant that you were going to watch him break down, maybe even lose his mind, die, and come back with absolutely no memory of who you were for at least a decade. And all that time, you were going to get older.

Neither of you were going to be able to go back to the way that you started. It'll either be him returning to you much older/already gone, or you waiting on him, losing the best seconds of your life to somebody who might not even be worth the wait in the first place. ]

I...

[ It's hard to speak over that chunk of his heart stuck in his throat. Your resolve frightens him. Being so confident, so sure, rarely ever amounts to anything in the face of how royally fucked up every aspect of his life is. ]

Maybe... maybe I...

[ Maybe I shouldn't have been so selfish. Maybe I shouldn't have said yes.

And it hurts so much to even have to think of it that way. ]

Shhhh, [ he's pressing kisses to your brow and your cheeks, framing your face with his hands and gathering you close. How can he tell you that he's thought it over, turned it around in his head -- what else was he supposed to do after that engagement gone bad in some fucked up cavern in hell, after crying his heart out to Jessie because he'd made the choice to bring Kaz back at the cost of losing more time with you.

He doesn't regret bringing his baby brother back, he knows he couldn't live with coming home to see the look in your eyes if he'd had to come back and tell you that he'd wanted to be selfish and have you instead -- because there was no choice. Kaz had to live, that meant losing more years with you, year's he's added up to time waiting.

Maybe he won't be the same boy you fell in love with when you come back around. He'll be older, for sure, and you'll be young. But he's glimpsed Deirdra and Gideon together. They make it work, and he doesn't have to look further than his father to see that what the hell is a decade when you're waiting for the only person you know you'll ever love in your lifetime. ]

Babe, it's okay. [ His lips are close to yours now, and tears are tracking lines down his own cheeks. ] I know I'm getting into.

[ It comes back to that, doesn't it? Not enough time, too little to go on, you frightened as shit and thinking that you don't deserve something good. He knows he's not a saint. He knows that it's selfish of him to want you to be his, even if it's going to put you through watching him go. If anything, he's an asshole for knowing that and wanting this still.

But he loves you so much. He's never done anything as impulsive as deciding that after less than a year together he'd like nothing better than to be yours for as long as he's still breathing -- but he wants it. He wants it so badly it's like the only air he could ever breathe. ]

I don't want to miss out. [ He's catching your chin again, keeping your face in place and looking you straight in the eye. Please, please, please see that you mean the world to him. ] I didn't die and come back with a second shot at living just to watch it pass me by.

I want to think of what I want, even just this once. And I want you.

[ The sting of tears in his eyes was already bad while you were holding on to him, and it becomes right about unbearable the moment you reel him in. Then you kiss him, and you touch him, and it's like those simple things were all it took for him to start to break down.

You tell him that you know what you're getting into, and Elaine knows that he'd love to throw care to wind, take that leap of faith and believe you. Things have gotten too fucked up too many times, though, and he's missed one too many chances, and you're just so good to him and human, and he --

One sob rips through his lungs and past his throat once you tell him that you want him, and it's quickly followed by another, and another. To look at you means to look at the sum of his world, right alongside the fact that one day, no matter how hard he tries, he will lose you. That might just color every moment the two of you have left, and as things are, there will only be a few of those to go around.

He's crying in earnest by the time he slumps against you, forehead pressed to yours, hands clinging tight to your wrists. He's run out of protests. You won't back down, and - even if he hates himself for it - he can eventually let himself be happy about that. For now, though... ]

Oh, babe. [ He'll hold you close and hold you tight, press his lips to your cheek and breathe you in. It's always been right in front of his face, the tragedy of the set-up you've both been given. Shit happens. Shit always happens, but he's more than ready to rise to the task of trying. ]

It's okay. [ He's whispering that as he draws you as close as either of you can get given that clothes and flesh and bone get in the way. ] It'll be okay.

[ He's tipping your face up again as he pulls back, pillowing your head on his arm as he shifts over you so he can lean down properly and press his lips to yours. He can taste that distinct flavor that makes you, you, mixed in with the salt of tears. ]

I love you. [ He murmurs that with his heart strung out through each syllable. ] I love you so much, Hikaru.

You have me. You've always had me. And you always will.

[ Since he's such a right and royal mess, it shouldn't be so surprising that he doesn't fight you at all, and barely registers the fact that you have him on that bed and tucked away in his arms in an attempt to keep him better until much later. It takes a bit, but he does manage to make each breath stop hitching up into a sob and start actually calming down.

Falling apart is so exhausting, and he's been falling apart way too often for his tastes these days. It's... uncomfortable, really, being pushed to this. Being reminded of what a weak and broken shit he actually is.

Forgive him, love, for the silence. The words have, at least for the moment, all dried up. ]

Edited 2014-12-01 14:15 (UTC)

[ He's going to be quiet for a while, watching you with concern and patience, his fingers tangled with yours. He had a conversation once, with the other man who loves you the way he does, about strength and what really makes a strong man. It seems both like ages ago and just yesterday: him falling to pieces on that wall because he couldn't bear losing you, but he didn't know what the fuck to do. ]

You probably know this already, [ his voice is soft as he looks down to where you're wearing the ring from another promise fifty years ago. ] But I didn't, so Makoto told me to look it up.

Apparently puzzle rings were a symbol of fidelity. [ He pauses, leans in and presses his lips to your hair. ] But when I first started wondering what it would be like to see it on your finger, the only think I could think of was the fact that it reminded me of you. Of all those lives you lived and still have to look forward to.

[ He breathes in shakily. ] And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be a big part of that.

[ One day, perhaps, he'll be able to accurately express the effect you have on him when the two of you are like this: him curled up against you, your breath warm over his head, your lips close, your voice washing over him, pushing the shadows away.

He realizes, belatedly, that he's letting his fingers trace the length of your arm. Back and forth, like subconsciously, he has to be sure that you're even here, with him. That you're even real in the first place. ]

You really do like to aim impossibly high, don't you?

[ It's a weak attempt at humor, but hell, he has to try. (And maybe what will really shine through is the gratefulness behind it. The things he can't quite say out loud just yet.) ]

Edited 2014-12-01 14:52 (UTC)

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