Kanda Yû (神田ユウ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lotusmesenpai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
overjoyed_logs2017-01-12 12:16 am
lotusmesenpai) wrote in overjoyed_logs2017-01-12 12:16 am
Entry tags:
[closed] Knock Me Out & Watch Me Drown
Who: Kanda & Itsuki | Kanda & Lavi
Where: Eulogy and Noah (their ship)
When: Week 2, Night of Day 2
Summary: Monks are useless so it's time to find alternative sleep methods.
Restrictions/Warnings: Cursing, because Kanda.
Where: Eulogy and Noah (their ship)
When: Week 2, Night of Day 2
Summary: Monks are useless so it's time to find alternative sleep methods.
Restrictions/Warnings: Cursing, because Kanda.
no subject
It's surprisingly fun to tease, though there'd been a moment where... well, he's not quite sure.
The look in Lavi's eye hadn't seemed quite as shuttered as normal, and yet, he couldn't quite place what it was either. Probably the reason he'd teased so harshly, to cover his own inability to read his partner's expression.
Blinking, he lets loose an impatient sigh because varying degrees of confusion seems to be a constant state of being when it was just the two of them and so he gives up (yet again) trying to understand it.
Instead he offers a careless shrug as he watches his partner.]
Like I said - the pills take longer for normal constitutions. No idea how long it'll take to affect someone like me.
[Pausing, he lets his gaze slide away, to rove slowly around Lavi's room once again - slower this time, to really see the space that Lavi's always called 'his' and Kanda had respected enough not to tread.]
...You really do have a lot of things. How the hell do you find anything in this shit?
no subject
[ Still grumbled childishly rather than the low and sincere tones they have a habit of taking in close quarters like this, Lavi mirrors the sigh, lifting a hand to rub it across his brow. This sense of normalcy isn't doing much to take the edge off his worry, but it's at least making it easier to mask it.
Some small part of him hopes this won't work at all, that the drug will fail to do so much as summon a yawn and Yu will give up on the pursuit. Try something else, anything else..
The much more ruthlessly pragmatic part of him understands, however, that it will only make Yu more desperate. If this doesn't work, he might well find his partner with a jakk habit tomorrow or something much worse.
Wishful naivete has never served him before, it's not going to start now.
As for his particularly colorful arrangement of artifacts--the answer is simple. ]
I don't forget where I put them.
[ Tapping at his temple lightly, Lavi closes his eye, redrawing the room inside his mind. Near every detail is preserved, the picture clear and vivid. Textures of old scrolls, the way the light overhead makes chromed surfaces shine a certain way--even the shadows cast on his seldom-used bed by their slouching posture. ]
Bookmen learn to see and never forget. It's useful for finding things.
[ If a burden in itself, for their work often takes them through some of the most depraved aspects of humanity, through corpses and blood soaked fields still as fresh in the mind as they are on the day of viewing.
Grinning, he opens his eye again, quick with a joke to distract his own train of thought as he stretches and sprawls out on the bed. ]
Great for phone numbers too. At least if it belongs to someone with the right assets.
no subject
[The words are quiet, lacking any real form of heat or censure. Just an observation of Kanda's own as his eyes continue sliding across the room, absently trying to discern some form of pattern in the chaos.
Slowly, the lingering tension in his shoulders begins to fade, eyes gradually loosing the sharp edge of assessment in favor of more abstract thought.
(A body meant to break down things that invade faster than a normal human is working against him, now. Breaking down a chemical composition, speeding it through the bloodstream with a frighteningly swift efficiency)
Sighing, he shakes his head, one hand reaching back to pull the tie out of his hair... and then falls back to rest - missing the pillow and falling instead to land lightly on Lavi's stomach. Grunting at the impact, he hums and keeps his gaze fixed on an artifact that stands out.
Unlike everything else, hidden in bright shades and messy piles, this one is simple and elegant - a small black hammer, the finial a sharp point to hint at lethality for all that it's a blunt weapon. ]
...I've never seen you use that one, right? It's...hm... [chuckling softly, he shrugs, shoulder bumping against Lavi's side] Dunno.
no subject
It's fine.
Just as it had been strange to have Yu touch his face and initiate proximity when it's ordinarily Lavi's task to do as much, it's fine. There's nothing strange about it if he doesn't make it so; only thinking has the power to shape that sort of perception.
So he doesn't let the musing linger, instead turning his mind to the side-effect of the action. It's distracting, looking down on the inky hair spread out like a satin curtain around pale skin, the slowly softening face contained in the black velvet.
Idly, Lavi pulls a hand out from behind his head to capture one of those dark locks (always reaching for it, always grateful for the easy nature of this touch), humming lightly to himself. At the softly uttered words, he lets his gaze leave the silk strands to track Yu's line of sight, lands on that hammer.
(Nostalgic for something he can't remember, a sense of belonging, of purpose and owning when he looks at it. There's a history there that even he can't see, but he thirsts for it without reprieve nonetheless.) ]
Picked it up a long time ago. Think it was a gift.
[ That's a lie; it was a weapon given by the hands of the militia he watched die and burn without flinch. He's never used it, but he's never had the heart to get rid of it either. Like a secret waiting to be told, the war hammer whispers in his ear unintelligibly at night, promises something great in its potential if he will only wait.
His turn to shrug now, though his action doesn't result in bumping ribs, jerk. He's forgotten the hair in his fingers, now mindlessly clutching it like a child seeking comfort, tethering himself to the thing that makes this world real. ]
..Anyway, that was a long time ago. [ Three years. ] I just think it looks cool now. Definitely cooler than a sword.
no subject
[Chuckling softly at that, Kanda finally pulls his gaze away from the unassuming weapon and turns his head to pillow his cheek against a firm stomach. Blinking slowly, he scrunches his nose a bit at his partner.]
A sword is deadly and... what's the word...Elegant? Yeah - elegant. There's precision and... grace... in each strike. How is a hammer cooler than that?
[Vaguely, he realizes his tongue is running away from him a little bit, but for once - he can't find it in him to care. Instead, he just settles a little bit more, legs stretching out, calves and feet dangling off the edge, swinging slightly as he blinks slowly at Lavi again, forces his thoughts back to what his partner had actually said.
A gift from before they'd been partners - meaning before Lavi had been 'Lavi'. It's a curious thing the impact of a name, because for all that he himself had been 'Kanda', he's still Kanda. It's just that now, there's someone that he (grudgingly) accepts acknowledging him as 'Yu', too.
(It's weird, isn't it? How quickly that annoying habit had settled into habit and then become something so alien as 'normal'.)
Words, he thinks add too much complication to things.]
...So if it was a gift, who'd they give it to?
[Not Lavi. But in three years, he's never thought to ask. Never had the right to pry.
He's pretty sure he still doesn't, but he's comfortable, and Lavi's room is warm. It invites thoughts and words to fly, before common sense can censure them.]
no subject
The thoughtless fingers nested in satin hair twitch with a mind of their own, releasing dark threads with the intent to do something surely foolish, surely ill-advised--
"...So if it was a gift, who'd they give it to?"
His drifting hand closes in on itself, retreating back from its meandering path before it can transverse past Kanda's crown, drawing up instead to pinch the bridge of his nose.
There aren't hard and fast rules against speaking of other logs necessarily, but there are sanctions on finality. That person who received the gift--that person is someone long buried now, a phantom of history that never truly existed.
So too will Lavi become like that. A ghost of a life never lived, a remnant of memory.
That thought steals away the gentle warmth and replaces it with something hard and suffocating in his chest. He swallows it back, that strange lump of confused pain, taming his emotions with the force of cooler logic.
Softness does not serve a Bookman.
Thus, rather than answer that question, he laughs a little sharply, squirming to draw Yu's attention to a logistical problem of their current position. ]
Hey, I'm not a pillow, y'know. I still need something to read unless you want me to have nothing better to do than stare at you for the next few hours.
no subject
After all, the man's only got one eye and when he does that, Kanda cannot see it from this angle. Therefore, the blockage clearly needs to go. Pulling over and down, he drops the hand to the surface of the bed, his own fingertips lingering to rest against the captured wrist.
Easily distracted for the moment, his own question is lost to the lazy, almost heavy feeling not one he's felt in a long, long while (and even then, medical sedation meant the circumstances were never this relaxed of his own accord), so when his head shifts with the wriggle beneath him, his frown - it's a frown because Kanda Yu does not pout, under any circumstances - deepens a little more until he shifts enough to turns his chin to poke at the other man's side, cheek sliding lazily against a lean stomach.]
Mmmm... but I'm comfortable.
[ Gaze flickering over to the bedside table, he reaches up with his free arm to point back, over his head, at the stack of papers and mess there.] What about those? Then I wouldn't have to move.
no subject
Drugged up Yu is surprisingly less psychotic than anticipated. Much more .. well, cute, really.
He’d expected some measure of tension in the other man, some emergence of the past haunted by medical experimentation, and he’s sure that’s still a factor, but rather than being presented with the brunt of that resentment, he’s extended a branch of fragile trust.
You were always alone, weren’t you? he thinks, when they put you under. ]
Yeah, I guess that works.
[ If what he needs is not to be alone, Lavi can bear it for now--it’s hardly as if he can’t lift Yu’s weight once the man departs this world of the wakeful.
(Certainly that’s his motivation; there’s no part of him that finds this arrangement as endearing as it is startling comfortable.
Not, at least, any part he’s willing to acknowledge.)
Sighing at great and exaggerated length, he squirms a bit more to extend his reach to the bedside, pulls those slips of paper together to idle his mind while he waits for Yu to fully submerge. ]
Man, I need neater handwriting.
no subject
And then he offers an inelegant snort, clearly tinged with amusement, before reaching up to flick the papers lightly with the still free hand.]
I could - and have - told you that, idiot. No one else can read that shit.
[Falling silent, he watches light and shadow play along the edges of the papers, the familiar ink staining parchment rather than his partner's hands, for once.
And he can't help but think it odd, that a habit that once drove him mad, something that left him with the constant annoyance of finding ink smudges on consoles throughout the ship, on clothes washed carelessly with ones used while the other worked so diligently on his records...this habit is now normal.
An idiosyncratic part of the daily ebb and flow of their lives.
He's found himself curious at times, wondering just what secrets those pages hold, why they're so important - but they're questions never asked, because he hasn't the right to the answer.
So rather than focus on that, he closes his eyes and starts controlling each breath, fingers unconsciously tracing random patters along the other's wrist. Slow, even inhale, a pause, and then a soft, steady exhale. It's his own pattern, well warn and familiar, but not enough this time to banish even the surface thoughts. Instead...]
...All that writing. Sometimes I think you look at things like they're too complicated. It's like the RAC's neutrality, only more invasive, almost.
[He's rambling, nonsense given voice, and so he cuts himself off there.]
So what's that one about, this time? And don't give me some bullshit about a maid and her master. That's boring as hell.
no subject
Glancing down from the leaflets of paper gathered gingerly within his grasp, Lavi tilts an inquisitive brow once more at the rush of words, his amusement mildly restrained behind a half-curved smile. Yu seems to realize the break of ordinarily taciturn character without any prompting on his part, switching gears nary a segue or pause.
(He's not wrong, though. By comparison to the RAC, his clan's doctrines are twice as severe and infringing on his day to day life. But it is not, in his opinion, a detriment for all that it requires sacrifice.
It's a gift to him. In spite of all its blood and broken attachments, it offers him near unfettered access to the universe--he need only give up his own place within it to walk through the stars at will.)
Humming lightly, he considers the papers. Written in his usual cipher, their text is as plain as day and yet as hidden as shadows within nightfall--he could just as well lie and Yu would be none the wiser.
It's worked for the last three years, why stop now? ]
Land blessing ceremonies on Qresh. You sure you don't want the maid instead? A lot more entertaining. Think there's a passage about violent beauties falling asleep in that one, too.
no subject
The words however, are less than ideal.
Because if the mildly horrified look is any indication - maids and sleeping beauties are not exactly something Kanda has any damned interest in - to him, that sounds as bad as some of those cheezy holomovies he's seen people waste time watching.
Shuddering in revulsion at the thought, he shoots Lavi a baleful look, his expression flat and voice flatter:]
I'd rather have the boring-assed land blessing.
[And then an actual chuckle as he his fingers settle into a loose hold on the wrist under his touch, the other hand reaching up to let fingers idly tracing the bottom edge of the sheaf of papers.]
That's what I mean though - what the hell is so interesting about a land blessing that requires so many damn pages?
no subject
(They're quite emotive reactions for the normal standard between them. If he wasn't certain that it could be blamed on the drug, he'd almost think Yu is in one of those rarely seen but often wondered about 'good moods'.)
The question, however, beckons a response outside of impassive amusement, and Lavi lifts the pages just out of reach from those drifting digits the way an adult might rescind an item from a child to let them know it's not a toy. ]
Some day, no one will remember why the blessings happened or what they meant for the Quad.
[ And then in stunningly hypocritical fashion, he uses the pages to lightly bat at Yu's head before setting them back on the cluttered tabletop. Lowering his now free hand, he picks up another piece of that inky hair, tugging at it lightly. ]
So I have to write about everything I see for future Bookmen who might not have the context. It's dull, but important.
no subject
Which just-so-happens to be Lavi's chest, knuckles dropping to rap lightly against the side of his partner's chest before settling there with sleepy carelessness. The reasoning behind something that sounds pointless makes sense, and while he doesn't see how this particular ceremony will have a significant impact to the annals of history, he can almost respect the methods all the same.
Though he fails to see, even now, how this process is served by the recorder cutting themselves off to humanity.
Blinking slowly, the complex slides away - something he's unable to grasp, much like water flowing through splayed fingers. Instead, he blinks once, twice, slow and relaxed at his partner.]
Then tell me something important, but less dull.
[Nevermind he'd told Lavi once already to read quietly, to not bother him with the things he writes. Because in this moment... the rise and fall, the warm cadence of the other man's words slide down his spine like a soothing caress.
The hand resting on Lavi's wrist shifts, fingers curling enough for his knuckles to rest against Lavi's palm as he hums a distracted note, his gaze heavy lidded as he watches his partner's expression.]
... Something from outside this shithole Quad.
no subject
He needs this, Lavi reminds himself, constructing a mental dam to hold back the growing pool of worry, and you're powerless to stop it.
A blink, slow and concealed, masks those trembling thoughts. Yu's hand curls into his own, pressing against the smooth surface of his palm like a petal, impossibly light and fragile. Absently, his thumb begins to trace light patterns against curled knuckles, a slow, circular pattern drawn out against skin.
What story should he share then? Something that matters but isn't tainted by the blood of this galaxy? It seems to him that Yu needs something akin to a cup of honey, something sweet and uncomplicated, but does such a thing exist?
All of his stories are of wars--of men breaking themselves for honor or deity. There's nothing so sweet and rich in the human world.
Finally, Lavi chuckles to himself, releasing the lock of hair to reach for the hand at his chest. The answer is clear, simple, and quite literally staring him in the face. If he cannot find a story of saccharine dreams in the human world, he'll look beyond it.
To this end, he turns Yu's hand so that the palm is facing him, his own digits lacing through the back of knuckles with careless ease. Holding the other man's hand up enough to get a clear view of it, Lavi makes a show of calculated study. ]
Did you know? A long time ago, people used to think you could tell someone's future based on the lines in their palm. It was a popular mode of divination for thousands of years.
Yours says...
[ Chin tilt. ]
You should be nicer to your partner for a happier life.
[ Totally what it says. ]
no subject
Pleasant and lazy, warm and lingering.
It's altogether something different from the little invasions that'd begun trading these last few months, this lingering gentleness from hands trained to both direct a pen in coded symphony and pull a trigger.
And then Lavi begins talking, threading a warm tenor into the stillness, a focus to draw his mind away from the contemplation of intimacy... only to tell him something so outlandish, he's almost sure it's made up. Snorting, he pulls their hands back enough to look at the his palm, of the way Lavi's fingers rest above the creases.
A mock frown slides into place as his gaze cuts up to meet that single eye.]
Nicer, huh? Just how much nicer does my palm say I should be?
no subject
(It's silly and esoteric, but that's why he chose it as the topic of this sleepy sermon. Something so far removed from either of their lives that they need not think of how their past sins have stained the lines of palms in red.
A fantasy befit for sweeter dreams than either of them might have.) ]
Hm..
[ Lavi twists their twined hands again, turning Yu's palm enough to place it in his periphery as he regards the lines with a manner most scholastic.
(He thinks not of the closeness of this action or the ease with which he'd instigated it, content to ignore the potential implications for this moment. It's rare, this capacity to simply focus on the present and not look at each action as a series of consequences yet to occur, but it's always pleasant when it surfaces.
And always, he'll realize much later, when he's in close proximity with this man.) ]
According to your heart line, you should let your partner read and nap for at least three weeks of a month in order to have a prosperous fate.
[ With this his seemingly serious manner breaks again, grin twisting on the corners of his mouth. He turns Yu's hand quickly, drawing it back to his chest to lay it flat and obscure the potential of having his 'work' checked.
(Clasped with mock-conviction, he becomes acutely aware of his own heart beat beneath their hands, the rhythm speeding up and echoing in hi ears.) ]
Nope, no peeking. That's exactly what it says.
no subject
[There's a clear trace of amusement in Kanda's voice, the hint of laughter pulling at the corners of his lips - right before he pulls the hand on the bed away from Lavi's and sits up, shifts around enough to lean over the redhead.
Blinking, he watches as his own hair shifts, watches the strands slide across the back of Lavi's hand, still securely holding his own over his partner's heart before they settle in an inky pool. Sitting up too fast, he quite nearly looses his balance, the blood rushing to his head with the shift, but he manages to keep himself (mostly) steady.
Enough, at least, to tear his gaze up to meet a verdant one, the smile breaks free, small and crooked as Kanda arches a brow.]
I think the interpretation is suspect. I might need a second opinion.
[Later - that perpetual later, the one reserved for if or when he faces these not-so-subtle shifts between the two of them - he'll wonder at how comfortable these light touches, this closeness.)
For now, though, he's content and feeling almost playful, despite the sleepiness starting to weigh heavily upon him. ]
no subject
(That happens often, doesn't it? Lavi has never had many qualms about talking over someone, but he quiets when Yu moves or means to speak, defers to the other man's presence without any conscious thought.)
His free hand twitches with the intent to provide aid, but he stills it, closes it into a loose fist to prevent traitorous digits from acting of their own accord. If Kanda falls over then it's his own damn fault, he is not a child to be minded or protected from his own rash impulses.
That, after all, is the decision he'd made when Kanda had first hatched this plan and sought out Itsuki's illicit affairs. He would let his partner make his own mistakes and say nothing for it, offering reprieve only in the most dire of situations.
But all of that, burned into his mind and written into his resolve, falls quiet in his mind. He looks up at Kanda with a frozen smile, chin slightly tilted, curiosity clear but heavy with reserve.
(Reserve from what? He dare not say, nor think, but there's something nervous and almost uncomfortable in his gut just now, twisting in on itself. Anxiety of a sort, but also excitement.
Lavi banishes further analysis on the matter.) ]
Nope, no can do.
[ His voice is a little too soft for the playful rebuke the words are meant to contain, but he catches his stride again, hand tightening around the one he holds captive. Shifting up slightly on his elbow, his lips take on a sly edge as he shakes his head, ignoring how the increased proximity seems to make the fluttering in his stomach that much more intense. ]
Like I said, old practice. Thousands of years. Very few experts outside of myself. You'll just have to take my word. Three and half weeks of sleep and books for a prosperous fate.
no subject
[Snorting at that, he leans his free hand down beside Lavi's elbow, to better stabilize himself - and inadvertently closing the distance that little bit more between them. As he does so, a slow smirk pulls at his lips in answer to that sly expression.
(A look that, unexpectedly, he finds a little too enticing in this moment. One that is quite nearly enough to draw him even further in.)
Clearing his throat, he snaps his gaze up from the curve of Lavi's lips, the barest hint of something utterly unfamiliar - embarrassment at being distracted, at the alien flicker of anticipation teasing his awareness - tinging pale skin with the faintest hint of rose. There's a slight lift of his chin, as if defiant of the fact, though the smirk doesn't waiver. Much.]
So how does this improve my life, hm?
[His voice, lower than usual, is little more than a curious whisper. ]
no subject
And that, although startling and a little awe-striking, is bearable. Liveable, if he just lowers his sight and ignores the way he can feel the other's dilated gaze studying him.
What's not tolerable, however, what spurs his anxiety into a childish pantomime and panic, is that blush.
(The science of as much is basic enough, he can trace its origins to reasonable conclusions--a drugged mind, an intoxicated body, the flow of blood mitigated by narcotics..
But none of that does a damn thing to explain why he can't seem to stop looking at the dusty spread of pink on porcelain skin. Nor, he fears, does it provide him much of an excuse when he feels the heat rising to mirror that tinge.) ]
Well, for one, it'll stop me from doing this.
[ Which is the extent of the warning Yu will receive before Lavi leans back and pulls the pillow from beneath his head to volley it into that overly distracting face. ]
Probably, anyway.
[ Voice a little singsong to hide the shake of it, Lavi grins triumphant, the nerves within him quelled, albeit barely, in his belated retaliation.
(At least he didn't try to pull Yu's pigtails?) ]
no subject
With a (now) muffled curse, Kanda is graced with a mouthful of pillow and teeters on the edge of maintaining balance before losing the battle, arm giving way to knock him down, the hand holding his to his partner's chest not loose enough to allow him to pull away.
Instead, he falls forward, face-down in the pillow provided, arm half-sprawled over Lavi...
And it takes a breathless moment, before his body shift, sprawls alongside Lavi's as the muffled sound of wry laughter can be heard.]
Bastard.
[Rather than heated, his voice is warm, hinting at affectionate, and heavy with the pull of sleep. He takes a breath, lets it out with a sigh, eyes never opening...
Fading.
Strong fingers curls absently into the shirt beneath his palm, brows furrowing as he shifts his head in a lazy attempt to push his bangs out of his face (to no success). He should reach up, move it.
But there's a weight on his hand, and he doesn't feel like moving it. ]
no subject
To clear his weak flesh of its impulses, to drive his undisciplined sight from the source of temptation that threatened to break the perpetual nonchalance of his facade. And it had worked, even if not as effectively as he'd have liked, because the rising blood in his cheeks settles, cooling the paths of its travel until the pink gives way to ivory once more.
But it was no less an exercise of futility, because what is granted in its wake is just as, if not more, intimate. A hand gathered between cloth and his own, a body warm and turned to him in its steeply purchased repose--at least, Lavi thinks, he is alone to contemplate these things.
(He could wake and stir Yu to steal his freedom back, but the thought of it troubles him more than the closeness of now. The goal of this all had been for this end: to grant Yu a dreamless sleep where he can find peace, and the face of the man turned to him is nothing if not a picture of released burdens.)
Finally, a sigh on his breath, Lavi twists just enough to alleviate the pressure on his back, squeezing the hand on his chest faintly before releasing it from his hold. He gathers the haphazardly placed notes from the bedside table, pausing to spare a last glance at his partner.
Softly: ]
See you in the morning, Yu.