Lavi Bookman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
inksplashes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
overjoyed_logs2017-01-22 01:06 am
inksplashes) wrote in overjoyed_logs2017-01-22 01:06 am
Entry tags:
closed | safer waters
Who: Lavi & Kanda
Where: Leith/Noah (their ship).
When: W3D7
Summary: What happens when you add paranoid delusions and manic hallucinations to an already strained relationship?
Restrictions/Warnings: Craaaaaazy going on; Kanda has a foul mouth, will edit accordingly.
Continued from here.
[ He sleeps, though he does not rest. Bouts of gray slumber pass so dark and deep that time ceases to exist or function, his moments of wakefulness punctuated by confusion and haze. He tries, with each successive waking, to find his place in this world and gather his bearings, but all too quickly the ground beneath him crumbles, the cruel hands of disease dragging him back out to murky seas.
He pushes through the dark waters one final time, rising with the gasp of a man suffocated, his heart pounding, his hands shaking. Lashes flutter in tandem to blind movement, body shifting, upright and dizzy--
(He's in a place that's foreign, a bed that isn't his, and there's the sound of breath beside him, soft and shallow.)
In the space of a blink, he calms his body, wide-eyed gaze roving around the room, panic dissipating, tremors subsiding. He turns his head slowly, swallows back a second gasp at the sight of person warming the covers around him.
("Of course it would be Yu," a voice of reason says, "This is his room."
But that voice has no place in his mind just now, illness swiftly quieting and smothering it.)
Lavi draws a few more measured breaths to ease the frantic energy built within him, his lungs shuddering softly. The sight of his partner stirring from the sleep he so badly needs sends a wave of guilt over him, rebuking him.
There's something else too, beneath that guilt, something warm and anxious and--
(Long lashes like dark silk kissing pale skin, lips barely parted to allow the passage of breath, hair a frame of soft ink around chiseled features.)
One hand rises to cage the still shaky breath, an apology readying at his mouth, but his voice is drowned out as a second whisper enters his mind, sharper than the last, darker. So close and seemingly real he can feel the murmur of lips at his ear.
("He's breaking you," it says, "Making you look at him like that.")
No, he thinks in protest, hands lifting to shield his ears from the brush of teeth felt on his skin, it's not like that, he just--
("Fool," the whisper grows to an angry edge, a savage tenor, the teeth still sharp against his ears despite the hands caging them, "He wants you to fail. He's trying to make you forget what you are. Look at yourself--look where he's brought you.")
Lavi complies, taking a second look around the room and the bed he's in, fingers lowering to knot in the sheets before he throws them off.
The voice is right. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't look at Yu like that. It isn't his place.
("You need to leave," the voice tells him, calmer now, pleased with his obedience. Lavi wants to obey it, trusts it. It's always been there for him, hasn't it? Telling him where to go, how to act--it knows best.)
Blue eyes meet green and his breath stalls out again, trapped in his chest.
Yes, he agrees, I have to leave. ]
Where: Leith/Noah (their ship).
When: W3D7
Summary: What happens when you add paranoid delusions and manic hallucinations to an already strained relationship?
Restrictions/Warnings: Craaaaaazy going on; Kanda has a foul mouth, will edit accordingly.
Continued from here.
[ He sleeps, though he does not rest. Bouts of gray slumber pass so dark and deep that time ceases to exist or function, his moments of wakefulness punctuated by confusion and haze. He tries, with each successive waking, to find his place in this world and gather his bearings, but all too quickly the ground beneath him crumbles, the cruel hands of disease dragging him back out to murky seas.
He pushes through the dark waters one final time, rising with the gasp of a man suffocated, his heart pounding, his hands shaking. Lashes flutter in tandem to blind movement, body shifting, upright and dizzy--
(He's in a place that's foreign, a bed that isn't his, and there's the sound of breath beside him, soft and shallow.)
In the space of a blink, he calms his body, wide-eyed gaze roving around the room, panic dissipating, tremors subsiding. He turns his head slowly, swallows back a second gasp at the sight of person warming the covers around him.
("Of course it would be Yu," a voice of reason says, "This is his room."
But that voice has no place in his mind just now, illness swiftly quieting and smothering it.)
Lavi draws a few more measured breaths to ease the frantic energy built within him, his lungs shuddering softly. The sight of his partner stirring from the sleep he so badly needs sends a wave of guilt over him, rebuking him.
There's something else too, beneath that guilt, something warm and anxious and--
(Long lashes like dark silk kissing pale skin, lips barely parted to allow the passage of breath, hair a frame of soft ink around chiseled features.)
One hand rises to cage the still shaky breath, an apology readying at his mouth, but his voice is drowned out as a second whisper enters his mind, sharper than the last, darker. So close and seemingly real he can feel the murmur of lips at his ear.
("He's breaking you," it says, "Making you look at him like that.")
No, he thinks in protest, hands lifting to shield his ears from the brush of teeth felt on his skin, it's not like that, he just--
("Fool," the whisper grows to an angry edge, a savage tenor, the teeth still sharp against his ears despite the hands caging them, "He wants you to fail. He's trying to make you forget what you are. Look at yourself--look where he's brought you.")
Lavi complies, taking a second look around the room and the bed he's in, fingers lowering to knot in the sheets before he throws them off.
The voice is right. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't look at Yu like that. It isn't his place.
("You need to leave," the voice tells him, calmer now, pleased with his obedience. Lavi wants to obey it, trusts it. It's always been there for him, hasn't it? Telling him where to go, how to act--it knows best.)
Blue eyes meet green and his breath stalls out again, trapped in his chest.
Yes, he agrees, I have to leave. ]
no subject
But for the first time, that vicious logic finds contest in its climb, a second coil of fire and desire sweeping down its frozen paths, alighting the nerves in its wake in white embers.
It isn't real, the long-time companion of doubt murmurs, you aren't even real—
An arm winds around him like a spool, holding the threads of him together, giving shape to the tangled spirit within. No, this pantomime of a human called Lavi isn’t real, but for this moment, he is tangible, corporeal.
Maybe, he wishes desperately, I can be real, for just a little while, if I can stay here in these arms.
The tender hands obstructing tears leaving cold swaths on fevered skin, those hands might mold him into something real, something that can outlive the drying of ink.
—and he knows he should fear that more than any act of war or violence that could be laid upon him, but he can't. Not when his heart races with a newfound measure of frenzy, his skin quaking in the pulses of that beat, clamoring without abandon or the usual safeguard of logic.
Because when the kiss breaks, he feels it like a fracture in his very being, as if his soul has been plunged into icy waters that wash away the fragile constructs of his existence without mercy or pause.
His fingers grip tighter in the nest of cloth, urging, pleading voicelessly what his trembling lips can't summon.
Don’t—I’m not ready to fade away again—
But the fear has seldom a moment to build between desperate breaths before he's pulled right back into the warmth of Kanda's mouth, lips pliant and eager to welcome the slick tongue at their threshold. A groan emanates from somewhere low in his chest, vibrating against the coalescing heat of tongues meeting and exploring, twisting and winding.
He wants, above all else, to fall into this moment so far and fast that he can't remember the things that would haunt his waking world, that even those voices crowding the edge of his mind fall into grave silence.
His hands, the traitors that started this foolish escapade, move again without conscious thought, seeking the warmth of skin as they dance down from the sharp angle of nape and collar, tremulously sliding until they catch the hem of shirt and dive beneath. Smooth planes of muscle spark the fever in his mind to the transverse of flesh, his body achingly insatiably for more – more of that skin against him, those arms around him.
It leaves him breathless, and when his lungs demand the air stolen from them without leniency, he’s forced to tear himself apart and let the contact of lips break again. Struggling, shuddering with the effort to regain the lost oxygen in the heated atmosphere around him, he dares a glance up, green washed bright with the recent presence of tears.
Unguarded, uncertain. As much fear as there is entreaty in the fever-burned look. ]
I—
[ Where are the words the ordinarily serve him so well? A speechless soothsayer serves no one, least of all Lavi. ]
I didn’t think—you, I mean—
I didn’t know.
[ How either of them felt, if this is to be believed as more than the fancy of disease. ]
no subject
He shudders softly at the warm glide of a hand, the hint of nails tracing flesh, utterly lost in the moment until the the need to breathe becomes too great, forces Lavi to break contact, leaves him breathless and staring, caught in a near unbearably open gaze.
It's enough, for the moment, to (mostly) alleviate his earlier fears - though he can still hear the way that 'bye' had echoed with a stark finality, still feel the mind-numbing panic that had pierced his heart that whatever Lavi had been seeing was enough to make the other man disappear.
It's selfish, he knows, but he's not ready to lose this - especially this, now - but more... having this man there by his side, fighting with and beside him, challenging him in ways Kanda had never thought possible. And there are so few things he's selfish on, but this...
Would this closeness, this new degree of intimacy really ruin his partner, or just stop the progression of personalities? Could he live with shattering that part of this man?
He's not entirely sure, because while there is some part of him feels like it's a degree of guilt that he can live with... there's another part that wonders if it would cause this desire to fester into hate, for taking something away from the man before him.
It's not something he can figure out now, nor does he have the capacity of clarity to try. Not when Lavi is looking at him like that. With no walls and no barriers between them, vulnerable in a way he's never been.
It's enough to have his breath catch, the hand at the other's back pulling them ever closer while the other slides back to card slowly through sleep-mussed locks. Slowly, he leans in, lips ghosting over a cheek, the corner of the too bright eye, down to trace lips in a featherlight caress once, twice, before they press at the corner of Lavi's mouth.]
Maybe... maybe we're both idiots then, for not realizing.
[It's almost calming, to say it - to admit it. Enough so that something else slithers in to catch his awareness... Lavi's hand feels like it's burning against his bare skin, warms his own hands a little too much. Impulsively, he traces his nose along a damp cheek, darts his tongue out to slowly catch the lingering evidence of tears along a jaw before he whispers beside his partner's ear.]
But you're still too warm. You need rest, and probably food... [Breath catching, his eyes fall shut, temple resting against temple, more care than he knows how to voice there in the way he's holding, supporting, Lavi.] Just don't push me away, not this time.
no subject
Being alive, he finds, is not a singular experience or emotion, and it’s not entirely pleasant and it’s not entirely perfect, but the edges of fear and the worries of reason only serve to make the moment more startlingly real.
Lavi loosens his grip, hands sliding away from taut muscle to find a new home along the tops of shoulders, his arms lifted weakly to thread around Kanda’s neck while delicate kisses feather against his face. The fire in him still burns for that which he is far too weak and far too broken to satiate in his current state, but more than the siren call of lust, it’s this tender intimacy that he craves most deeply.
This tender, strange, really quite absurd intimacy. Laughter, soft and subdued by stark comparison to his usual bright ring, rises at the wet glide of a tongue, a weak smile hugging his lips as he makes a show of trying to dry his cheek off on the cloth of his raised shoulders.
His mirth dies short at the whisper, at first out of sullen acknowledgment – he hasn’t eaten properly in days and he can feel the frenzy of his mind stirred beyond its normal limits with the continued fever, but even so…
Lavi opens his mouth to offer the ill-conceived and admittedly petulant arguments, the first whisper of interjection scarcely past his tongue when the last words strike a terrible, shrilling chord within him.
"…not this time."
Because there will be other times, won’t there? Just as he has done in the past, he will surely build those barriers again, pouring the walls around him as deep and stalwart as he can. Even burned and muddled out of his right mind, he knows this to be true, knows it as a student of historical patterns and with his own small, tremulous thread of self-awareness.
His eyes sting again, vision blurring with the fresh rise of unbidden tears held at bay by lashes.
Lavi can offer nothing by way of rejoinder for that, no oaths upon his tongue that would ring anything but false.
All that he can offer is this moment, this confusing, painful moment. Head dropping down in an effort to contain his unruly emotions, Lavi buries his nose under Yu’s ear, chin settled in the cushion of his own arm as he chokes back the urge to sob and wills his voice not to break. ]
I.. I won’t. Not right--not now.
[ Softer, swallowing hard against the lump settled in his throat— ]
Please don’t let me disappear, even if I beg you. I don’t want to lose this feeling.
[ But he will, though forgetfulness will smooth out the brunt of it, hollowing him out and imparting only the vague sense that there was a time, that there was this moment, where he knew what it was to be whole. ]
no subject
It's a stark admission, and one Kanda knows he would not have received so openly had Lavi been wholly in his right mind.
That it takes the other man this much, to be this far gone with a disease that they cannot rid themselves of so easily, to gain such a naked measure of truth... it's a weight to carry, whether Kanda wants to accept it or not. Because this?
This isn't 'Lavi's' truth, and it's not 'Bookman Junior's'. No, this is the remnants of whatever remains of the original soul within this man, long since buried under a menagerie of personas. It's from that rare glimpse of someone else, mixed with the sweeping strokes of what comprises the parts of 'Lavi' that are slowly, painfully, becoming just as real as 'Yu'.
It's not something Kanda is willing to let go, not at any price.
A wager then, this thing Lavi's asking of him. To pit his own resolve against the mysteries of his partner's past, the stubbornness of someone attempting to abandon their soul and ground it all at once...
Only once before did he attempt such a promise. The memory of it is hazy, uncertain as it rings through his fevered mind, and yet he can feel the lingering loss of it all the same. The promise to look for 'that person', the longing for them... the loss of them.
And in this moment, he falters.
"Please don’t let me disappear"
Reflexively, Kanda's arms tighten around Lavi, fingers carding through ember shaded locks to cradle the back of his partner's head - the decision made before his conscious mind could fully grasp the depth of memory, the echo of loss a goad to quicken his determination, now, as he shifts back just enough to press his forehead to a fever-warmed one before him.
And this time, when he speaks, there's an unmistakable note of finality, of an unconquerable will behind the words being issued to tether his soul.]
Whether it's you or anyone else - I won't let this go to anyone. This is ours, and I'll be damned or dead before either of us lose it. That I can damn sure promise you.
no subject
Of all that he's said and done in the last few moments, it's the sense of reprieve washing through him that speaks greatest of trust. He's startled by it, the realization that he's not only willing to put such a grave task in Yu's hands, but that he believes in the resolve of them.
That such a resolve should exist, for someone--no, something like him--
Lavi's efforts to hold back the building tears falls short, long lashes releasing their watery prisoners once more. He makes a pained, breathless sound in some semblance of laughter, wishing like hell he wasn't so afflicted with emotion.
No, that too is wrong. If he were any less dazed by the merciless progression of sickness, he wouldn't be where he is, and though that place may be like a trembling fool in his partner's arms, it's where he wants to be.
The place that he belongs.
Swallowing again, Lavi nods weakly, the ghost of a smile on his mouth as lips finds the edges of Yu's in a quivering kiss, softer than before. Not driven by lust or desperation but simple affection, gratitude given tangible form.
Whispered softly against skin, the shake of his voice is nearly imperceptible now, and while it's not the fierce declaration that Kanda so seamlessly delivered--it has a similar gravity for him-- ]
Okay. I believe you.
[ "I trust you."
Drawing back, his arms slip down, hand catching on the edge of a sharp jaw gently. He'd done this same movement just before Gramps had slid into the darkness of broken memory, but the texture and experience of it is different now. The skin feels softer, shines brighter, everything about Yu cast in a charmed light to him.
Emotions, he thinks, really are the most dangerous drugs for the mind.
Shifting his head away (he can feel the heat building between pressed brows, the growing fever trapped beneath the blend of black and orange hair), Lavi tries for a second smile, a second, slightly less shaky kiss chastely laid against the frame of a sharp cheekbone. ]
Sorry. 'M getting you all wet. We should--I should eat before I cry on you more.
no subject
As it is, all he can really do is ignore the awkward helplessness of it and wait out the storm with a patience he’s rarely shown anyone – because in this, it’s certainly not just anyone.
Lavi is someone that Kanda knows is strong, steady, but human all the same – for all that he tries to be otherwise. So as many times as this man has tried to help him in recent months, has stood beside him, watched him struggle against fractures within his own mind… in this moment, Kanda can do no less than carry the weight of Lavi’s own guilt and release, the acknowledgement in those quiet words of faith.
One brush of lips, another to ghost over his own face, lips leaving a lingering warmth in their wake, before he answers that attempt at a smile with a smaller, quieter one of his own, head shaking lightly to negate the apology.]
…Don’t be stupid. I’ll dry.
[But then he cants his head to the side, brows furrowing slightly as he shifts back somewhat reluctantly, the arm slung low around his partner staying firm despite the shift.]
C’mon… I saved the soup from earlier. Think you’re steady enough to make it to the couch?
no subject
Yes.
"You would forsake your oaths for this man?"
I already have.
He is uncertain if the voice within the recesses of his brain is illusory or not, if it stems from some outer-source of judgment or from his own self-loathing, but he answers in good faith, safe to make such confessions within his own thoughts.
His answers, like all other rivulets of truth gleaned from kisses both hard and soft, from touches supportive and violent, add to the startling procession of the night. He is certain that he's given to a form of madness for such things to even be possible, but he is equally assured that it's a madness hastened by disease and not conceived by it.
Those answers have been within him for much longer than the sickness, and though they make themselves clear to him only now, he knows their shape and texture with time-worn familiarity, as of a friend whose face is erased by time but memory remains cherished.
And it is this same madness, certainly, that brings hesitation to his lips to answer Yu now. Turning to dry his face on a roughly-clothed shoulder, he laments to release his hold or have himself released in turn. Much of him wishes to lie, though it would only be a half lie, and return with a resounding denial of his abilities so that he might keep himself anchored in these arms that little bit longer.
But even in his broken, addled state, he is not without pride, and if only for this moment in time, Lavi is unwilling to offer needless lies. He nods, again a weak motion, gaze downcast, his hand leaving the warm cusp of Yu's face to finish brushing away the evidence of stalled-again tears. ]
Probably. The old geezer will yell at me even more if I don't try.
[ He steps away, gently pushing at the arm around him in spite of himself, minding the corridor now as his auxiliary support if need should arise. A thought occurs to him that's quite humorous, and in the low shadows of the hallway, his grin cuts through the otherwise frantic fever of his face as he begins steady but uncertain steps towards the rec room. ]
He'll probably take your hair tie again. S'okay though. I like your hair better when it's down.
no subject
He can see the grin, warmed slightly as if recalling humorous memories, and it gives him pause.
Because he's had a similar moment - with Lapis, not too long ago, in fact.
And though the memory still isn't clear... he can recall a sense of the familiar, of someone or something so real, that carried the weight of a bond old and worn and cherished, that he isn't ready to poke at that for Lavi.
Instead...]
Can't have that - think I yell enough lately for all of us.
[Pausing, he slips his hands into his pockets, the perfect image of easy nonchalance as he cuts his partner a sidelong glance.]
It's not that easy to take my hairties. He might lose.
no subject
Even his best kept secrets are there because of Lavi's good graces, because of his willingness to avert his gaze.
Mired in the confusion and haze of his very human weakness, the restrained concern slips by unnoticed, the illusion maintained. Laughter, wheezing and painful in his ribs, flows softly from his lips, one hand posted against the wall as he draws to a pause.
I'm winded, he thinks, and I don't think it was just the kiss.
Not that it wasn't perfectly worthy of taking the breath out of his lungs--it was more than that, it was the kind of kiss he's read in literature and thought surely couldn't be real--
And it's definitely, unquestionably something he wants to do again--
But he's weak, too drained and muddled with sickness. What hope did he ever have of escaping?
Sighing, Lavi pushes off the wall, tries to mimic his own look of nonchalance. ]
Kinda like it when you yell too. Your face gets all..
[ Vague hand motions that are evidently meant to provide an illustration but mostly look like he's going to present prizes behind curtain number three. (Lavi White.) ]
..It's cute.
[ Did he just call Yu cute, aloud and without any sense of irony?
Yeah, he's not well. ]
no subject
It seems too much like tempting fate, to invite that vision back to stand between them.
Perhaps, then, he should keep Lavi focused on the here and now, rather than what only one can see. Something easy enough to do, if the hand waving and those words are any indication, enough to stir disbelief sharp and bright.
Because did Lavi really just call him...]
...Cute, huh?
[There's definitely more than a trace of amusement in Kanda's voice as he watches Lavi, head canted to the side, the hint of a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth before he finally steps closer. Without hesitation, he pulls one of Lavi's hands out of his pocket and slips an arm low around his partner's waist, fingers catching a beltloop and curling through.
This close he arches a brow as the trace of a smile curls into a teasing smirk, face mere inches from Lavi's.]
Is that why you seem to enjoy pissing me off? To watch me lose my temper?
no subject
At least, ordinarily.
But this situation is far from ordinary, he reminds himself, and when the answer is instead a twist of lips warmed with amusement, his own mouth replies with a mild grin. Tension, reflexive and long-conditioned by proximity, drains away just as quickly as it arrives, posture visibly relaxing into the warm cradle of a once-more encircling arm.
I could get used to this, Lavi thinks, leaning forward that incremental distance to bring them flush again. He could get used to the feeling of solid and sure weight against him, to the sweet comforts of a touch given without any trace of hesitation.
(How many people in this universe have reached for him without reserve or ulterior motive? Of them, how many knew him, not the persona or the scholar but the nebulous creature caught between them, and still offered their warmth freely?
None, save for this stubborn, impossibly kissable creature.) ]
Hn?
[ Distracted by the shape of pale lips curled in challenge, Lavi misses the initial question, too focused on the sound of the low tease to capture its meaning on the first pass. ]
Oh. Sure.
[ Shaking his head faintly (and remembering, sharply, not to do as much), the redhead lifts a hand again, palm turned to cradle Yu's cheek. His thumb slides softly, almost reverently, across that inviting smirk, attention now fine-tuned as if studying the way Yu’s mouth curves is the most important thing he's ever been tasked with.
(And to him, in this moment, it is.)
Tipping his head down, he leans forward to brush lips against lips, the touch a teasing phantom interspersed with a low hum of contentment. Softly, he presses a second kiss to the corner of the upturned mouth, thumb brushing a slow arc as his palm slides to frame the other man's jaw. ]
Mm. It's one of the perks, yeah. And it gets me kissed, so even better.
no subject
There's want there, and a spark of desire that skitters down Kanda's spine, hits him low in the gut, as if Lavi intended to poke once more at a recently banked heat.
But then a feather-light brush of lips, so simple and surprisingly sweet and it's enough steal any attempts at drawing a breath.
Because that can only be tenderness. That is affection without reservation and from this particular man... he has no defense set against that.
I...I want to keep this, don't I?
Lashes flicker, fall, before Kanda turns slightly to brush kiss-swollen lips against a shifting palm, mind racing because he knows the answer, can feel it in the way the erratic thump in his chest quickens all the more. This intimacy, the comfort therein, the ease with which they've fallen into it - it's precious to him, in a way he could not have anticipated.
In a way that slides under his skin, shatters through any barriers he'd raised over the years, clarity through understanding slams into him now.
He wants this intimacy with this man, his trusted partner and closest friend.
He wants this person, this being caught somewhere between the bookman and the killjoy, with all his annoying habits and infuriating jibes, with his ill-concealed concern and the strength that resides within. He wants it all, no matter the cost.
I'm fucked.
It's the last thought, an honest thought, before he turns his head back, lips seeking out lips with surprising tenderness, light pressure, the drag and press slow in answer to Lavi's statement because yes, for now, it's definitely going to get him kissed.]
no subject
It changes things, changes him.
Yet cloistered in the gentle slide of lips against his own, he cannot hold onto this desire or train of thought to carry it out. The hunger of earlier twists within him again, a hot, writhing pressure that drives him a little deeper into the kiss and a little further away from contemplation.
Instead of careful observation, he can think only--we're never going to make it to the rec-room at this rate--and he relents and relinquishes to as much willfully.
Because he is certain that he needs to eat, but the hunger is not one sated with food.
And he is certain that he needs to rest, but it's as if he's only just now been woken from a lifelong slumber.
Above all else, he is certain that these needs which deepen by the second can be granted by only this man.
(It is a frightful thing, to realize that another human has so much control over him, but this too slips away from him, because though it is something to be feared, he does not know how to feel it.)
It in this moment, crisp and sharp and alive, he understands the madness of the fall, grasps the why of the language used to describe it--
Because he is utterly, hopelessly, stupidly in love. He has been in love, not fiercely falling or immediately succumbing, but gently dissolving in the chaos of it, and he knows now what to call these confused and much too fierce emotions. He knows what terrible force had kept him from pushing Yu away, and to acknowledge it, even to himself, releases a weight he had no realized carried.
A fool from the start, Lavi thinks ruefully but smiles, whole and warm, I really was ruined long before now.
He draws back, mouth numb and tingling, forehead pressed against Yu's, the hand that had held to jaw now nestled in cloth over his partner's back, the other twining and threading fingers together like a delicate lattice. ]
I...
[ Softly he begins, and sharply he stops. He is not yet brave enough to say what he knows to be true, though the words gather at his mouth and crowd at his teeth. No, he's not ready for that, because acknowledging it for himself is already a feat beyond his normal, and he cannot say it aloud for fear of allowing to be rendered false later.
Still, at this moment, he says to himself: am so stupidly in love with you, and he smiles as he says these things mentally, you bastard.
To this he shakes his head again (reminded, again, not to do that by the slap of pain that results), exhaling out what he cannot say. ]
..don't think I'm gonna have the energy to get to the couch, at this rate.
[ Words meant to warn, though whether that warning is directed to Lavi or Yu isn't clear immediately. When he leans forward again, lips pressed to lips, tongue tapping lightly at the bow of them, the intended recipient of that cautioning is illuminated.
Himself. Most certainly himself, though he does as all men must with good advice and promptly ignores it. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
No, that's inaccurate. He doesn't mind. He cares so much that his body trembles under the gravity of it, that his heart feels raw with the effort to hold as much of it as he can. Over and over he repeats the words to himself, a mantra which begins uncertain and hardens into pieces of resolve with each revolution: I am in love.
They should be damning, those words. They should take the breath from him, but they’re much too late, much too slow for that. How could they take a thing from him when it’s already been claimed by Yu? When the air he breathes is the borrowed magic of the other man’s presence, of his touch and his whispered laughter?
So instead of spurring recoil, they spark drive and demand, ricocheting against the cascading waves of want sliding down his spine. When his steps fall a little too slowly over the threshold of the room and Yu gains more distance than he’d like, Lavi growls without reservation, the sound warning and low.
Don’t you dare, are the words he’d say if his lips were not otherwise occupied exploring the temple of Yu's mouth, tongues sliding against one another, sometimes delicately, sometimes with unabashed hunger. When the bed enters his periphery, he flicks his tongue against the cavern of Yu’s mouth like a motion of beckoning, drawing away with a ragged gasp and frustrated groan.
It shouldn’t be possible for the body to disagree on so many impulses. To yearn for the excitement of lust while demanding the reprieve of rest.
To hell with this fever, he thinks bitterly, clambering onto the bed and pulling Yu along with him without any opportunities for protest. From the moment they touch the mattress, he tangles himself in Yu’s limbs, his knee sliding between thighs, every surface of him pressed to every surface available.
It’s sweet torture, this agony of a desire he hasn’t the strength to satiate, and it is absolutely exquisite in its magnitude.
Kiss bruised lips pulled into a weak smile, he brushes the back of knuckles across Yu's cheek, lightly smoothing away bangs. Though he isn't willing to utter his mantra aloud, it's written on his face, in the affection of his whisper. ]
Stay with me until I fall asleep? I feel like I have so much to tell you but I don't know what to say. You're beautiful. I want you. I'm sleepy. I want you.
[ A pause before he laughs softly, leaning forward to place a tortuously chaste kiss against Yu's cheek. ]
Actually, that about covers it. I want a nap and you.
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The last thing he wants to do sleep.
But what he wanted and what Lavi needed just then were two very different things, and so despite the way fingers teased along skin, the feel of those knuckles, that kiss, brushing his cheek, despite the way Lavi was trying to drive him crazy with a damned knee - he groaned and slid to the side, tucked himself against Lavi.
Legs tangled, arm thrown with a lazy carelessness across his partner's chest, he lay there, propped on an elbow to look down at Lavi.]
You're an idiot, so sleep. You need it.
[He hesitates a moment before leaning back down, noses brushing and lips hovering over lips, a tease to both their senses, a small smile curving his lips.]
You're going to need it, because I want this. You. So take your damned nap - I'll be here when you wake.
/fin
A lazy smile, part relaxed and part weak, quirks under the warmth of lips again, a teasing shiver whispering along his nerves in ready subservience to encroaching sleep.
He murmurs, lashes weighing heavy-- ]
Better be. You promised.
[ And I'm gonna hold you to it, he thinks, turning slightly to bury his face in the dark shroud of hair and breathe deep. Just a nap..
.. which will twist into hours upon hours, and when he wakes, he will be sure that he's missing something as critical to his heart as the blood that moves through it, but he won't be able to find it again.
Even if it's right beside him. ]