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

[ 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)

I dream big. [ He's smiling at that, letting the tips of his fingers brush through your hair. ]

I haven't done that in a while, but this year has been something else.

[ Leaning in again, slanting his mouth over yours in the only way he can think of to reassure you that he's here with you and not budging. ]

[ And he responds only too gratefully to the attention. First it's marked with a tiny, relieved little sigh against your mouth, and then his lips gradually parting to let you taste him/slip your tongue between them, if you care to.

His need for you at this very moment is crippling, and you're only too ready - to willing - to indulge him, and do what you can to make him feel safe and warm again. There's something both poetic and intimately sad about that. ]

Josh...

[ His voice is still thick with the tears he still hasn't shed, and also with how much he wants you right here with him, no matter how shitty it might make him feel in his darkest moments. ]

[ And he's sighing into you right back, his hand following the length of your arm as he deepens that kiss. ] I'm right here. [ That's whispered as he catches your lower lip gently between his teeth. ] I'm not going anywhere.

[ Whatever you need, he'll give. You're a steadying presence in ways he can't accurately express, something that makes him want for things he never thought of for himself, or if he did, only in that distant sense that usually accompanies the words "what-if". ]

Please don't.

[ Maybe that sounds a little pathetic. It probably just makes him look his actual, physical age, especially since it's coupled with the way he looks up at you, and the way his breath shakes just so in the air between the two of you with anticipation/the ghost of old aches. ]

I love you. I love you so much, I...

[ He'll do anything for you. He trusts you so wholly and so completely that surely, at least once, you have found it frightening. He loves you so much that sometimes, it really fucking hurts. ]

[ It doesn't sound pathetic. It really doesn't, and if he actually knew that you thought of it like that, he'd be inclined to dissuade you from that line of thought.

He's shifting a little bit over you, anchoring you against the mattress and the sheets and looking you straight in the eye as if you are the only thing in the world right now. He's also lifting your hand so that he can press a lingering kiss to the center of your palm. ]

You sound so scared when you say that. [ Forehead to yours, his body settling over you, one arm braced by your head to prop him up. You'll feel his fingers running through your hair again. ] I'm not going to disappear, Hikaru. And all of this is real.

[ When he captures your lips with his, he sighs into you. You'll likely feel the tension running through him. You look so terribly vulnerable in ways you normally wouldn't be, but he's compelled to handle you with such care because the sight of you makes his heart ache with so much longing. ]

[ This time, when he kisses you back, he's wrapping his arms around your neck to keep you close. That little fit has brought the cold back into his bones and in his heart. You're here, though, and you say that you're not going to leave, and he's working towards believing you. Maybe...

He's relaxing bit by bit, and that does lead into him slowly getting back into kissing you with less desperation and more actual desire.

Please, let him draw your body over his like a blanket, or maybe more like a shield. You've never failed, thus far, to make him feel safe when the both of you are like this. A lot of him is counting on that. ]

[ There's a soft gasp, the sound of it wholly relieved, as he sinks a little more into you, giving over and kissing you in earnest as if he were a drowning man and you the first breath of air upon breaking to the surface. ]

Be with me? [ He whispers that when he eventually breaks away, nose pressed to your skin, breathing labored. ] Let me give you everything tonight.

Please. I'd like that.

[ He's starting to relax, which means that the shakes are beginning to settle down and bleed out of his limbs. In fact, he sounds almost dazed now, and it is matched by the way he looks up at you.

You've found it frightening before, haven't you? To look back at him and see just how much he trusts you, and how willing he is to follow your lead and let you do whatever you want to in order to bring you both back towards stable ground. ]

Then kiss me. [ That's murmured over your lips. ] And don't think of anything else but what matters: us.

[ He'll lavish your mouth with attention at that, shift his weight to his knees as he straddles you lightly, just enough to keep you in place and press up against you so that you can feel how much he needs you right now.

His hands have left you to undo the tie at his neck and shrug off that coat he'd donned for the night. When the tie comes loose, his fingers skim over the buttons of your top with the intent to shed you of the trappings of your own clothes. ]

[ He'll cling to that just like how his lips cling to yours before they ultimately part and let you kiss him deep and full and well. He's also letting his arms move, allowing his hands to roam down the full length of your body both because he's too eager to have his palms remember the feel of your skin beneath them, and to assure himself, once again, that you're really here with him and you're staying for good.

A shuddered breath between the two of you is what you get once he registers the fact that you're right about ready to take his clothes off.

Please do. Please, do everything to me.

That is what his eyes are telling you, once he's lifting his gaze back up towards your face. ]

[ He'll relieve you of your shirt then, hands lingering over your skin as he parts the folds of your shirt. He'll catch your hands and move off of you, draw you up and sit on that bed so that he can guide you over him as he strips you down to just warm skin over bone.

And then he'll smile at you like you're the only thing that could ever matter, the only thing he could ever see as he guides your hands over him and goes through the motions of stripping himself down.

It's always been like this, whenever you both make love: push, pull, meet in the middle, because the middle-ground is where you both can lose yourselves to each other.

When you're both naked over those sheets he'll run his fingers up your sides, over your shoulders and up to fist in your hair to draw your mouth back to his. ]

[ And with each passing second he's relaxing a little more, letting you override his sense of control and the fear knocking about in his heart and his ribcage, letting his skin settle beneath the weight of your touch. Hence, it shouldn't be too surprising how he's pliant in your grip by the end of it all, reeling from how wonderful you've managed to make him feel in such a short time after that bad fall, and how the cadence of his breath has slowed, grown short, gone ragged.

There's a soft sigh leaving his lungs once he feels your fingers in his hair, and he follows the turn of your grip without a second thought, mouth already opening to welcome your lips and tongue. His limbs, in the meantime, are spreading out a bit more, like his entire body is unfolding just to let you be in the perfect position to touch him wherever you want. ]

[ You'll feel the roll of his hips beneath you then, the way he's rubbing himself up against you because his body craves the warmth of yours. He'll kiss you like you're the only place he can breathe air from, like this moment needs to be stretched out and savored for what it is.

Earlier tonight, he asked you to be his and you said yes. Let him be your shelter, a safe place to turn to when you feel like you can't manage anymore. Let him be someone you can turn to and come apart with, because he'll do everything in his power to piece you together again. ]

Tell me you love me. [ He sighs that against your mouth as his hands fall away. The tie he discarded is tangled between his fingers now. ] Tell me again, Hikaru, please.

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