Fic: Hanging by a perfect moment
I promised no more zombies for a while, so this isn’t one (or two) but actually a story. Maybe tomorrow I’ll finally take a rest from all this cuteness (then again, tomorrow a new episode is airing).
Title: Hanging by a perfect moment
Author: yanjara
Rating:PG
Pairing: Hiro/Ando (slight)
Lengtht: 432 (acc. to word.)
Disclaimer: saddly they are not mine… not in this timeline anyway
A/N: Well, this is actually my first attempt at a written Hando… and sooner than I would have thought too. Hopefully you will enjoy this little snippet
Hanging by a perfect moment
One second you’re thrown against the wall of the painters appartement, pinned by Sylars cold eyes and the unbearable pain of feeling your head being split open, literally.
In a flash Hiro’s there, his hand firm in your own, cool and firm.
The next moment you find yourself back in the dizzying familiarity of Yamagato offices, Tokyo, Japan, slowly coming around to thinking that no, you’re not dead, somehow Hiro was there right on time, this timeline at least.
The feeling is hilariously surreal, but Hiro’s still searching your eyes and you feel like you could be content in this moment forever.
An eternity later you both let go and it occures to you that even though you failed, somehow you’re still here. Which could mean any number of things, maybe that’s the end of your story, your happily ever after. Maybe Hiro rescued the princess, or the prince, and didn’t have to kill the dragon.
Maybe…Hiro lays down the sword you got from the smithshop, “Now, I’ll go back!” Because fairytales just don’t work in that order.
You haven’t ever seen him this determined, not yet.
The adrenaline is cursing through you, “We can go back together. Surprise him!” Because even if this turns out to be a fairytale, what would be Batman without his Robin. “No Ando.” He says slowly, you should have seen this one coming, and it chills you to the bone.
“This part of the journey… I must finish alone.” After all Kensei always operated alone and as you’re talking you already know, it’s a lost cause. You’ll always be cheering him on from the side, but if this really is a fairytale, than at last you’ll get a happy ending, princess or no.
“They will be telling the story of Hiro Nakamura!” which is the right thing to say in such circumstances. The hilt of Kensei’s sword feels oddly hot to touch, but it’s nothing against the inquiering look he shots you. “It’s not the sword, it’s the man.” And maybe it is.
The little frown between his eyes is so disarmingly Hiro, you want to lean down and kiss him. Instead you smile, which has to be enough. “You look badass!” In the blink of an eye he disappears.
Had you know what would happen, maybe you would’ve taken the opportunity anyway, sociality and consequences be damned.
Four months later Ando Masahashi checks his new watch, watching Kaito Nakamura making his way over to his cubicle. He softly touches the hilt of Kenseis, no Hiro’s sword, “so that you know, I’ll be back”, and waits.
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