[The shift from slow and lingering, from a sweetly exploring tenderness to something with a little more heat - without losing that nearly reverent way with which they begin to understand each other - it's quite nearly overwhelming for Kanda.
And yet, he's unwilling to let this go, to lose even a moment of it, because this?
This moment with this man - it's making him feel alive in a way he never has. It's a gift of Lavi's, this ability to draw out the parts of Kanda that remind him of his own humanity, evokes an equal desire to do the same for this impossible person that seems so hell bent on throwing away this same innate nature within himself.
It's a spark that Kanda has seen in the depths of a too sharp gaze, that draws him in time and time again, relentlessly ever closer, until there's finally nothing left between them to hide behind.
And it's a spark that he wants to give back, to see ignite within Lavi so brightly that there's no way his stubborn partner can ever consider smothering it, to keep him from taking it away from either of them now or ever again...
The realization comes swift, of everything he's willing to sacrifice within himself, of how far he's willing to go, to break himself against the wall of his partner's past, shatter himself if he has to just to keep this.
To selfishly not lose 'Lavi', or the parts of him that make 'Bookman' or the fragments of the man left standing in between...
Because he is not 'Yu' without this man, doesn't even know how to be - not anymore.
So when Lavi finally draws back enough to smile, the vibrancy of it is enough to rob Kanda of the ability to catch his own breath, solidifies this conviction with a breathless resolve.
Because that, right there. He wants to capture that and hold it, that unfettered happiness, no matter what.
And it's only when Lavi rests their foreheads together again, when he can feel the way the other man leans into their touches, relaxes into the embrace that he can finally manage to breathe again - and even then, it's a softly shuddered breath that slips out past trembling lips.
It almost feel like too much, too acute, too hard, too enveloping, too fast - and no where near enough.
Not when every tease of breath, every shift of cloth against skin, every faint press of bodies as they brush past each other with each little movement - not when it all serves to pass the heat of the moment between their frames. It's more than enough to leave him hyper-aware, wanting in a way that is nearly enough to evoke fear were it not for the gentle press of a hand at his back, the caress of warm breath over his lips to soothe all at once.
It's chaos, but a chaos that only Lavi has ever been able to evoke within him, and so he lets it sweep him into it in this moment, lips parting with a whispered laugh just enough to grant entrance, a shiver sparking down his spine at the slow, slick glide as his own tongue slips forward to meet Lavi's, even as his hand presses more firmly against his partner's back.
Better to step back slowly into his room, careful to take Lavi with him, to draw the other man back to the safety of a bed, if the couch is to far.]
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And yet, he's unwilling to let this go, to lose even a moment of it, because this?
This moment with this man - it's making him feel alive in a way he never has. It's a gift of Lavi's, this ability to draw out the parts of Kanda that remind him of his own humanity, evokes an equal desire to do the same for this impossible person that seems so hell bent on throwing away this same innate nature within himself.
It's a spark that Kanda has seen in the depths of a too sharp gaze, that draws him in time and time again, relentlessly ever closer, until there's finally nothing left between them to hide behind.
And it's a spark that he wants to give back, to see ignite within Lavi so brightly that there's no way his stubborn partner can ever consider smothering it, to keep him from taking it away from either of them now or ever again...
The realization comes swift, of everything he's willing to sacrifice within himself, of how far he's willing to go, to break himself against the wall of his partner's past, shatter himself if he has to just to keep this.
To selfishly not lose 'Lavi', or the parts of him that make 'Bookman' or the fragments of the man left standing in between...
Because he is not 'Yu' without this man, doesn't even know how to be - not anymore.
So when Lavi finally draws back enough to smile, the vibrancy of it is enough to rob Kanda of the ability to catch his own breath, solidifies this conviction with a breathless resolve.
Because that, right there. He wants to capture that and hold it, that unfettered happiness, no matter what.
And it's only when Lavi rests their foreheads together again, when he can feel the way the other man leans into their touches, relaxes into the embrace that he can finally manage to breathe again - and even then, it's a softly shuddered breath that slips out past trembling lips.
It almost feel like too much, too acute, too hard, too enveloping, too fast - and no where near enough.
Not when every tease of breath, every shift of cloth against skin, every faint press of bodies as they brush past each other with each little movement - not when it all serves to pass the heat of the moment between their frames. It's more than enough to leave him hyper-aware, wanting in a way that is nearly enough to evoke fear were it not for the gentle press of a hand at his back, the caress of warm breath over his lips to soothe all at once.
It's chaos, but a chaos that only Lavi has ever been able to evoke within him, and so he lets it sweep him into it in this moment, lips parting with a whispered laugh just enough to grant entrance, a shiver sparking down his spine at the slow, slick glide as his own tongue slips forward to meet Lavi's, even as his hand presses more firmly against his partner's back.
Better to step back slowly into his room, careful to take Lavi with him, to draw the other man back to the safety of a bed, if the couch is to far.]