to claim this world, blue vapor without end. [February 16th] [5927] [Reborn!]
Title :: to claim this world, blue vapor without end.
Prompt :: February 16th, “Change our bones to gases” [31_days]
Pairing :: 5927
Rating :: PG-13
Warnings :: Set sometime after the future is “fixed;” allusions to spoilers in the TYL arc.
Wordcount :: 363
Summary :: He remembers, insanely, the smell of smoke, and wonders vaguely why he can even still breathe.
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.
Lisel Mueller, Monet Refuses the Operation.
He remembers, insanely, the smell of smoke, and wonders vaguely why he can even still breathe.
So much is the same, and with his eyes so tightly shut - hands ghosting across skin, his own so desperately trying to reach out, to hold; the way it seems as if there is no air but he cannot allow himself to stop -
He shudders, body a sinuous arch pressing helplessly upwards into those hands, and he is not quite sure whether it is from pleasure or poorly-suppressed memories or both.
And he is afraid to open his eyes, to find that this is nothing but memories; merely yet another of the carefully-crafted delusions strung out like symphonies. (He would have given anything to have him back, he knows, and sanity seems unimportant in the face of such desire.)
“Hayato.”
But at the sound of his own name, he stills. He knows he did not imagine the laughter interwoven in that one word, did not imagine the way the soft exhalation nearly cools the flame of his cheeks.
“Open your eyes and look at me.”
He cannot disobey.
And there is Tsuna, Tsuna, straddling his hips while balanced above him with the majority of their clothes a haphazard heap on the floor, and smiling quietly, knowingly, down. He only laughs again as Gokudera’s hands grab for him, clutching him frantically to his chest as though he could somehow soothe his racing heartbeat, as though it could convince him that this was actually real.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Tsuna scolds, face nuzzling into the side of his neck. “And I really don’t think you’re supposed to be doing that at all right now.”
“I-”
“Shh.” Tsuna’s lips brush against his throat as he swallows, hard. “You don’t have to explain. But if you still need to convince yourself that we fixed things, then you need to just stop and let yourself feel.”
Gokudera stares up at him, wide-eyed and still shaking, and only when Tsuna begins to move does he allow himself to breathe.
(You came back to me, once, the look in his eyes seems to say. Did you think I wouldn’t do the same?)
Prompt :: February 16th, “Change our bones to gases” [31_days]
Pairing :: 5927
Rating :: PG-13
Warnings :: Set sometime after the future is “fixed;” allusions to spoilers in the TYL arc.
Wordcount :: 363
Summary :: He remembers, insanely, the smell of smoke, and wonders vaguely why he can even still breathe.
if only you could see
how heaven pulls earth into its arms
and how infinitely the heart expands
to claim this world, blue vapor without end.
Lisel Mueller, Monet Refuses the Operation.
He remembers, insanely, the smell of smoke, and wonders vaguely why he can even still breathe.
So much is the same, and with his eyes so tightly shut - hands ghosting across skin, his own so desperately trying to reach out, to hold; the way it seems as if there is no air but he cannot allow himself to stop -
He shudders, body a sinuous arch pressing helplessly upwards into those hands, and he is not quite sure whether it is from pleasure or poorly-suppressed memories or both.
And he is afraid to open his eyes, to find that this is nothing but memories; merely yet another of the carefully-crafted delusions strung out like symphonies. (He would have given anything to have him back, he knows, and sanity seems unimportant in the face of such desire.)
“Hayato.”
But at the sound of his own name, he stills. He knows he did not imagine the laughter interwoven in that one word, did not imagine the way the soft exhalation nearly cools the flame of his cheeks.
“Open your eyes and look at me.”
He cannot disobey.
And there is Tsuna, Tsuna, straddling his hips while balanced above him with the majority of their clothes a haphazard heap on the floor, and smiling quietly, knowingly, down. He only laughs again as Gokudera’s hands grab for him, clutching him frantically to his chest as though he could somehow soothe his racing heartbeat, as though it could convince him that this was actually real.
“You’re thinking too much again,” Tsuna scolds, face nuzzling into the side of his neck. “And I really don’t think you’re supposed to be doing that at all right now.”
“I-”
“Shh.” Tsuna’s lips brush against his throat as he swallows, hard. “You don’t have to explain. But if you still need to convince yourself that we fixed things, then you need to just stop and let yourself feel.”
Gokudera stares up at him, wide-eyed and still shaking, and only when Tsuna begins to move does he allow himself to breathe.
(You came back to me, once, the look in his eyes seems to say. Did you think I wouldn’t do the same?)