Dis Aliter Visum - Epilogue - 1,346 words
Note: not entirely sure about this epilogue, but with this, dav is now officially over.
Beta-reader: unbeta'ed, unedited.
Chapter summary: The beginning.
Epilogue
Kurapica sat on his couch, an excellent book in hand. He should have been captivated by the information that he was reading, but he had half of his attention on the clock, which quietly ticked away the seconds as he waited somewhat impatiently. He didn't know precisely when his partner was going to return, only that he'd said it would be today, and sometime after lunch. It was a little after three in the afternoon, now, and Kurapica sat and waited.
It was always tense for him, and thus for them, when his partner had to leave for what he liked to call a “job.” Kurapica still didn't approve of what his partner did, something they had both decided to leave outside of their relationship. It did cause tensions, but they worked through them, one difficult case at a time.
There was a sound at the door, and Kurapica perked up, happy and apprehensive all at once. A key slid in the lock and turned, then the door opened to reveal Kuroro. Kurapica's life partner, against all odds. The black-haired man walked in and turned to close and lock the door behind himself. He took the time to remove his coat, before making his way over to Kurapica.
“I'm home,” he murmured softly.
Kurapica looked him up and down slowly, then closed his book. He could smell soap and vinyl, the former likely from some cheap hotel, the latter from Kuroro's coat. He knew what the soap meant; it had long been and would continue to be a bone of contention between them. Where so-called normal people might think of this as signs of infidelity, Kurapica knew better.
Kuroro was very much aware of the blond's distaste for undue violence, and he always made a point, when some of his criminal ventures turned sour, to wash off the smell of blood before coming home to his lover. The point was moot, because Kurapica knew what the smell of cheap soap meant, but he had to admit that he preferred to smell soap on him, than blood.
“Welcome home,” he finally said, equally soft.
Kuroro eyed him for a moment. The blond wondered what went on behind those large, dark eyes. They had had so many arguments about Kuroro's disregard for human life through the two years they had been together, and though they had found a sort of grudging agreement, it would always be a sore point between them. Kuroro was never going to care, the blond had come to understand, as he didn't see the point of it, but he had started being more careful because he knew that it caused Kurapica to feel grief, and he did not want him to be upset by his fault.
“Can I kiss you?” Kuroro asked, and Kurapica knew that it was the smell of cheap soap that hung between them which prompted the question.
The blond eyed him in turn, feeling his expression soften. Kuroro might not have much regard for human life, but he showed great respect for his partner. It was this respect that helped Kurapica accept some of the darker sides of the man he had chosen. He had not ever thought that Kuroro would disband the Spiders, and so it came as no surprise when the older man chose to continue his illegal activities. Kurapica himself could not be considered a paragon of morality, not after the months spent working for the mafia, but he'd gone back to his earlier goal, becoming a Blacklist Hunter.
The arrangement might have seemed strange to anyone looking in, but it worked for them. It had taken a lot of discussions, some arguments, some concessions, and then they had come to the conclusion that they would leave their respective careers out of their personal lives. Kurapica stayed away from anything involving the Spiders, and Kuroro kept his own plots to himself. Only things that took them away from home for more than a day was ever discussed between them.
Kurapica took a deep breath, and ignored the implications of that soap. He knew who Kuroro was, had known before their first kiss, their first caresses. This hadn't changed, Kuroro hadn't changed and besides, as much as Kurapica wished the Spider Head would wake up one day with a fully functioning conscience, he knew better than to expect it. Still, he'd fallen in love with this conscienceless rogue, and that hadn't changed either.
“Yes,” he answered at last, knowing that this was more than a simple kiss, that is was a reaffirmation of their bond, despite the fact that Kuroro had probably just taken a life.
Kuroro leaned in and pressed his lips on the blond's, then tilted his head further to deepen it. He had to prop his hand against the couch's backrest, but didn't complain. The kiss was slow and sweet, reaffirming who they were to each other - lovers, partners, part of each other's lives.
It had taken so much work, so many difficult, but necessary conversations to get to where they were now. Their relationship was not easy, starting from where it had. Even taking that aside, they were both obstinate in their own way, and though Kuroro never lost his cool, that only served to infuriate Kurapica even further. After two years of fighting, arguing, but never bearing the thought of actual separation, here they were. After this long, they both knew that they were going to stick to each other, despite their differences, despite the hurt and resentment that sometimes festered. In the early days, it was not so certain, but now, Kurapica knew, knew without a doubt, that they would find a way to work things out together.
Kurapica's hand lifted to his lover's arm and he pulled at him gently, urging him to sit on the couch next to him. His book was set aside, and he settled against his shoulder as soon as Kuroro stopped moving. The older man wrapped an arm around the back of his shoulders. Kurapica sighed softly and leaned his weight into him.
“I'm glad you're safe,” he finally said, sidestepping the knowledge that it had not been a heist that had been without violence.
Kuroro replied to the said and non-said by laying a soft kiss on the top of his head. They stayed as they were for a time, reaffirming their relationship, through these soft moments and unhurried touches. They listened together to the soft ticking sound from the clock, watched the pendulum swing slowly. Eventually, Kurapica stirred.
“You should take another shower,” he said, and turned to face the Spider Head, “then come to join me in the bedroom?”
The end of his invitation was lifting a bit in question, letting Kuroro know that he could refuse if he preferred to keep his distance for now. The older man smiled at him.
“I'll be there soon,” he said, not acknowledging all of the implications behind the request that he shower again.
They both knew what it meant; that Kurapica knew that he had killed, that he wasn't happy with it but would not make a fuss about it. Accepting Kuroro meant accepting all of him, including parts that Kurapica didn't like. In return, the older man had freed Kurapica from his promise to join the spiders, and didn't try to convince him that killing didn't mean anything. Too many arguments had turned to this, as the last ditch weapons to hurt each other, when their emotions were too high and they lashed out at each other without care. Now, they had put these matters to rest, more concerned with rebuilding their relationship when one of them wasn't happy, than to be right or convince the other that their way was the right way. It was more important to them to be happy together, than to be right.
And, Kurapica thought, they were indeed happy. As he got to his feet and turned to watch Kuroro do the same then head to the bathroom, they were as happy as one couple could be.
Beta-reader: unbeta'ed, unedited.
Chapter summary: The beginning.
Epilogue
Kurapica sat on his couch, an excellent book in hand. He should have been captivated by the information that he was reading, but he had half of his attention on the clock, which quietly ticked away the seconds as he waited somewhat impatiently. He didn't know precisely when his partner was going to return, only that he'd said it would be today, and sometime after lunch. It was a little after three in the afternoon, now, and Kurapica sat and waited.
It was always tense for him, and thus for them, when his partner had to leave for what he liked to call a “job.” Kurapica still didn't approve of what his partner did, something they had both decided to leave outside of their relationship. It did cause tensions, but they worked through them, one difficult case at a time.
There was a sound at the door, and Kurapica perked up, happy and apprehensive all at once. A key slid in the lock and turned, then the door opened to reveal Kuroro. Kurapica's life partner, against all odds. The black-haired man walked in and turned to close and lock the door behind himself. He took the time to remove his coat, before making his way over to Kurapica.
“I'm home,” he murmured softly.
Kurapica looked him up and down slowly, then closed his book. He could smell soap and vinyl, the former likely from some cheap hotel, the latter from Kuroro's coat. He knew what the soap meant; it had long been and would continue to be a bone of contention between them. Where so-called normal people might think of this as signs of infidelity, Kurapica knew better.
Kuroro was very much aware of the blond's distaste for undue violence, and he always made a point, when some of his criminal ventures turned sour, to wash off the smell of blood before coming home to his lover. The point was moot, because Kurapica knew what the smell of cheap soap meant, but he had to admit that he preferred to smell soap on him, than blood.
“Welcome home,” he finally said, equally soft.
Kuroro eyed him for a moment. The blond wondered what went on behind those large, dark eyes. They had had so many arguments about Kuroro's disregard for human life through the two years they had been together, and though they had found a sort of grudging agreement, it would always be a sore point between them. Kuroro was never going to care, the blond had come to understand, as he didn't see the point of it, but he had started being more careful because he knew that it caused Kurapica to feel grief, and he did not want him to be upset by his fault.
“Can I kiss you?” Kuroro asked, and Kurapica knew that it was the smell of cheap soap that hung between them which prompted the question.
The blond eyed him in turn, feeling his expression soften. Kuroro might not have much regard for human life, but he showed great respect for his partner. It was this respect that helped Kurapica accept some of the darker sides of the man he had chosen. He had not ever thought that Kuroro would disband the Spiders, and so it came as no surprise when the older man chose to continue his illegal activities. Kurapica himself could not be considered a paragon of morality, not after the months spent working for the mafia, but he'd gone back to his earlier goal, becoming a Blacklist Hunter.
The arrangement might have seemed strange to anyone looking in, but it worked for them. It had taken a lot of discussions, some arguments, some concessions, and then they had come to the conclusion that they would leave their respective careers out of their personal lives. Kurapica stayed away from anything involving the Spiders, and Kuroro kept his own plots to himself. Only things that took them away from home for more than a day was ever discussed between them.
Kurapica took a deep breath, and ignored the implications of that soap. He knew who Kuroro was, had known before their first kiss, their first caresses. This hadn't changed, Kuroro hadn't changed and besides, as much as Kurapica wished the Spider Head would wake up one day with a fully functioning conscience, he knew better than to expect it. Still, he'd fallen in love with this conscienceless rogue, and that hadn't changed either.
“Yes,” he answered at last, knowing that this was more than a simple kiss, that is was a reaffirmation of their bond, despite the fact that Kuroro had probably just taken a life.
Kuroro leaned in and pressed his lips on the blond's, then tilted his head further to deepen it. He had to prop his hand against the couch's backrest, but didn't complain. The kiss was slow and sweet, reaffirming who they were to each other - lovers, partners, part of each other's lives.
It had taken so much work, so many difficult, but necessary conversations to get to where they were now. Their relationship was not easy, starting from where it had. Even taking that aside, they were both obstinate in their own way, and though Kuroro never lost his cool, that only served to infuriate Kurapica even further. After two years of fighting, arguing, but never bearing the thought of actual separation, here they were. After this long, they both knew that they were going to stick to each other, despite their differences, despite the hurt and resentment that sometimes festered. In the early days, it was not so certain, but now, Kurapica knew, knew without a doubt, that they would find a way to work things out together.
Kurapica's hand lifted to his lover's arm and he pulled at him gently, urging him to sit on the couch next to him. His book was set aside, and he settled against his shoulder as soon as Kuroro stopped moving. The older man wrapped an arm around the back of his shoulders. Kurapica sighed softly and leaned his weight into him.
“I'm glad you're safe,” he finally said, sidestepping the knowledge that it had not been a heist that had been without violence.
Kuroro replied to the said and non-said by laying a soft kiss on the top of his head. They stayed as they were for a time, reaffirming their relationship, through these soft moments and unhurried touches. They listened together to the soft ticking sound from the clock, watched the pendulum swing slowly. Eventually, Kurapica stirred.
“You should take another shower,” he said, and turned to face the Spider Head, “then come to join me in the bedroom?”
The end of his invitation was lifting a bit in question, letting Kuroro know that he could refuse if he preferred to keep his distance for now. The older man smiled at him.
“I'll be there soon,” he said, not acknowledging all of the implications behind the request that he shower again.
They both knew what it meant; that Kurapica knew that he had killed, that he wasn't happy with it but would not make a fuss about it. Accepting Kuroro meant accepting all of him, including parts that Kurapica didn't like. In return, the older man had freed Kurapica from his promise to join the spiders, and didn't try to convince him that killing didn't mean anything. Too many arguments had turned to this, as the last ditch weapons to hurt each other, when their emotions were too high and they lashed out at each other without care. Now, they had put these matters to rest, more concerned with rebuilding their relationship when one of them wasn't happy, than to be right or convince the other that their way was the right way. It was more important to them to be happy together, than to be right.
And, Kurapica thought, they were indeed happy. As he got to his feet and turned to watch Kuroro do the same then head to the bathroom, they were as happy as one couple could be.