A/N: Well, hello there, you.
...Putting a winking smile here would just be creepy, wouldn't it?
Oh, wow. I've been working on this for a long time. -_- I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do with it and now I have random HikaruxKaoru scenes that I'm probably never going to use because they just don't fit anywhere. Little orphan drabbles, they are. Poor things.
Anyway, just take note of a few things before you start reading. First, I know it reads really weird because I've fucked with the past-tense and present-tense. Kaoru goes into a flashback without italics, which is why it's weird.
This is the shortest one-shot I've ever written. o: I hope this isn't turning into a habit. Um, so, please review when you're done. I would like that very much.
Warnings: yaoi, twincest, homosexual intercourse, some angst, quite a bit of fluff, OOC-ness, unorginized chaos, and mediocrity--yeah, all that good stuff. There are probably a lot of errors because I'm impatient and I can't stand to read over the same thing more than once. Okay, I'm done. And I'm going to sleep. Tired...
Why are you out of bed?
God, I can't even see. My sleepy eyes are useless this soon after waking up. My mind is pretty useless right now, too. I think it's still fogged with remnants of dreams I can't even remember. My body is crying out for rest, as you've inadvertently disrupted it. I don't think I mind very much, though. Maybe tomorrow, while I'm trying to stay awake at school, but not now.
It's too early—or too late, depending on how you look at it. This certainly isn't the time to be grasping in the dark for things. For you.
Where are you?
My blurry vision is starting to focus a bit. I can see the walls stained with a melancholy grey color that somehow makes me sleepier, even though I know that doesn't make much sense. And that's it for a few empty moments. But then I see you, finally, radiating pensiveness and insomnia in front of the window you seem to have parted the curtains from. Must be why I could see the walls in the first place.
You're still naked. The intimacy of things like this never fail to astound me, though I don't know why. But it rouses me from my half-awake stupor.
You're gone. I can see that almost immediately. You're just simply not here anymore, not right now. I find myself wondering who exists for you, if anyone, when you're away like this. I hope it's still me. And then I realize, I don't care where you are, as long as it's me. I don't care whether or not you decide to bring me to wherever you wander off to when you're like this, as long as you know who's watching you in a different world when you're there—wherever there is.
For a few moments, I watch you...admire you, determined to not miss a single part. The soft lines outlining bone structure and slim muscle that illustrate only a small piece of who you are. Your thin shoulders are slumped, but you don't seem at all downtrodden, so I'm not overly concerned.
Your hair is still mussed and sticking up in every direction. I remember tugging on it rougher than I probably should have. I know you didn't mind, probably won't ever, but still...
I exhale through my nose quietly and try to shake myself from my thoughts, well aware I'm about to get as absorbed in them as you are in your own right now.
I wish I could see your face, your eyes to see what they're gleaming with, if anything, but I can't. Your back is to me. I could get up and coax you back to bed, but I don't want to startle you. I don't think I could avoid that in the distracted state you're in right now.
But, maybe...
"Hikaru..." I call softly, my voice thin and raspy from sleep. You don't react, but I'm not surprised. My voice is weak and quiet.
Maybe...I can bring you out of it gently enough...
"Hikaru," I repeat, a tiny bit louder. I know you've heard me this time because I see you jolt a little and inhale sharply. I'm sorry. I'm needy and I miss you. I know it's selfish.
You look over your shoulder at me, and I can immediately see that you're back. Your eyes are wide and seeing me. I'm only partially covered by the coverlet, hiding nothing in my expression. Undone, still. And you can see that, because I've seen your lips parted for words that don't seem to want to leave your lips before, when I'm like this. And that affection you have in your gaze that I can identify so easily within you now.
Your stare is heavier on me than it usually is. It feels intrusive, but I decide I like it. Neither of us say anything for a few moments. You're not moving, and I would be concerned if it weren't for the warmth in your eyes that distracts me from feeling guilty for interrupting you, even though you don't seem to mind.
I sit up halfway, reclining a little against the headboard. And I continue watching you. You look like some ethereal being, facing me with the light from the moon and stars outlining your bare figure. I know you notice my blatant staring because when my eyes dart back to your face, you're wearing a knowing, half-grin. You're making me feel right again, making me feel how I want to feel for you. I love this. I'm not sure how this is different...but it is; it's extraordinary. I don't want to keep sharing it with you while you're way over there.
"Come here," I murmur, not even bothering to ask why you're not here in the first place. It just doesn't seem relevant at the moment.
That amused half-smile suddenly turns into a wide grin and you immediately stride toward me. You're acting like you've been waiting for an invitation or something. Why? You don't need one. You've never needed one; you know that. You're being sort of odd tonight...
You don't even get under the covers. You just crawl on top of me and pull me into your arms without warning. I'm very accustomed to your deeply intimate gestures, but I honestly didn't foresee this coming.
My breath leaves me in a rush. I tremble and curl into you when you whisper my name breathlessly against my neck. The suddenness of your desperate affections leaves me floored, but genuinely delighted. I'm soon enough responding your familiar touch.
I try to touch you wherever I can for as long as I need to remember everything my curious fingers touch. The soft curve of your cheek, the gentle slope of your nose, subtly smiling lips parted just a little against my touch. I can feel you breathing.
You place a few small kisses on my fingertips before I think to continue my exploration of your face, and eventually your body. Your lips are adorably puckered.
I can feel your smile fade. It's gradual enough to keep me from worrying. I'm still very attentive to your body language, your disposition. I don't think that could ever change, even if I wanted it to. But I can't imagine that ever happening. That's one of the few things I'm absolutely sure of.
"Kaoru," you speak quietly against my fingertips, expression thoughtful but unafraid. "is this really okay?"
My eyes widen slightly in confusion. Your question seems very non sequitur to me, but I can see how serious you are. I can see how much my answer matters to you.
I don't have to think very hard to figure out what you're talking about. To my relief, you don't look insecure at all. Just curious. Curious about what I think. You really don't know how I feel about this, after a cautious beginning of reverent touches not so long ago, to the highest level of physical intimacy we could possibly reach?
You would know, Hikaru. You would know if I didn't want this.
My fingers leave your lips and trail lightly across your face, over the soft protrusion of your cheekbones, darting to the back of your head. I pull your face a little closer to mine. Your breath hitches a little, and I delight in the positive response.
"Mm..." I start, effortlessly keeping your waiting gaze. "It's really okay, yes."
You blink once, processing my answer. I thread my fingers through your hair while I patiently wait for your response.
I hope you know how much I mean it. We're both happy, and we're not...we're not hurting anyone, I don't think. I wonder...can you find a fault in it?
I don't even have to ask. You've decided to answer my silent question nonverbally. Still with your mouth, though.
Your breathing remains even as you place several soft, meaningful kisses trailing from my cheek toward my mouth. My lips part in anxious anticipation, and I'm waiting, trembling and on edge because I'm not sure if you'll take this further like I want you to or not. If you don't, I just might.
"Nhn," I hum in relief when you finally press your lips to mine in a longer, more lingering kiss than any of your previous ones from the last few moments. I draw hedonistic delight from it. The intensity is heightened when I feel that you're smiling gently against my mouth. I'm not sure if you're satisfied with how I answered your question or if my play on your words has amused you. I hope it's both.
It's this that makes me not mind so much that we have to guard this with everything we have from the eyes of other people. No one can have any idea. They would just ruin the purity of it, because it is pure, even if we're the only people that know it. You and I are the only ones that can understand this isn't perversity. The only way it could possibly become corrupt is if we let someone corrupt it.
I almost groan a little in agitation you separate from me, but it's easily stifled when you begin peppering light kisses down my neck.
I tilt my head a little to the side to give you more access, sighing softly as you deliver more kisses in response to my body language.
"Hikaru," I breathe, most intelligent thought frying in light of the bliss my receptive nerves are delighting in. "I...I like that..."
"Ah," you murmur against my skin. I shiver, pressing against you shamelessly. "I'm flattered."
I laugh a little at your playful tone, but my breathy chuckles are cut short as you nip at my flesh. I try to contain myself, but I just give up once you start placing open-mouthed kisses toward my chest, sucking and licking gently as you go.
"Mm, H-Hika-aah..." I groan as you knead the soft, sensitive area with your tongue and warming lips.
I'm panting a little by the time you reach my bare chest. My already-heated skin ignites to something much more difficult to ignore when you place a wet kiss on the sensitive, peaked flesh of my nipple. I arch into your touch and cry out for more in a voice so tinged with longing, even I can hear it.
It wasn't enough that my nerves were already frying toastily just a few moments ago from mere hours earlier, when we last did this. I'm insatiable, and you're pretty much the sole reason why, though being at the peak of my adolescence is probably part of it.
You press a firm kiss to my mouth, and I realize how much I've been needing it. I groan and press back enthusiastically. Our lips are beginning to swell from the pressure by the time I decide to deepen it. I begin nibbling and sucking gently. You're all too eager to return my suggestive touches, fondling my tongue with yours in a way that I should probably have deep moral objections to, but I don't, of course. You're tasting me. It's making my skin tingle pleasurably and the smoldering heat in my lower abdomen pulsate and throb delightfully.
I can feel your growing arousal, firm and heated, against my thigh. I bring my leg up between yours and rub gently.
"Hnn..." you groan against my lips.
I separate from you hesitantly, intent on saying something at least half-coherent through my shuddering breathing.
"Hikaru," I breathe, very impatient and mind completely made up.
"Y-Yes?"
You sound just as far gone as I am.
"I want...I want..." I trail off awkwardly. I'm not really sure how to put this into words without sounding unnecessarily obscene.
Fortunately, after a moment of about as much contemplation as you can really do right now, my meaning seems to register. You blink once, and then grin at me while you start fumbling blindly near the edge of the bed. The lube, which we've taken to keeping for this very purpose, is supposed to be under the bed, but you're not really paying attention.
"No, stop," I protest. You freeze, looking at me questioningly. I'm still a little sore from last time, but my libido is doing a fantastic job at distracting me from that. I'm impatient, and still recently prepared, I figure. I hope so, anyway.
"But, Kaoru—" you start, looking at me incredulously.
I'm not made of glass, I think wryly to myself.
"Just do it." I interrupt breathily, body still trembling for attention. You breathe out harshly and your reddened lips part, but you say nothing. I'm not usually this insistent.
You look torn. But the undisguised longing in your eyes encourages me to push this.
"Are you sure? I don't thi—"
"Mmhm!" I interrupt, probably a bit too eagerly, which makes me grimace a little in embarrassment.
You look surprised at my outburst, and then amused. You've finally stopped searching for the lubrication, bringing your hand up to caress my hip.
My breathing quickens. I'm trembling in anticipation.
I wrap my legs around your bare waist, hooking my ankles together to keep myself steady. You incline your head between my neck and shoulder. I shiver when I feel your shallow breaths against my skin.
"If you're sure..." you whisper seriously, positioning yourself against my entrance.
"Yesss," I hiss. My legs are tightening around your waist, my nonverbal way of pleading you to just please do this already because the tip, where I can feel precum has already collected, is just so slightly pressing into me, and I really like that, but I just need so much more—
"Oh...oh, god..."
A breathy moan escapes my lips when you thrust forward with a gentle jerk of your hips. It's painful, predictably, but tolerable. And the satisfaction that comes with the feeling of being filled by you overshadows the discomfort.
"Hhnn," you groan, gazing down at me through half-lidded eyes. I love it when you look like this—flushed features, hair mussed and dampened with sweat, expression conveying the highest point of bliss imaginable.
Dazed and floating somewhere in this moment with you, I almost don't see the kiss coming. But I respond eagerly enough. The things you're doing with your mouth to me deepens my need. It makes me almost weak with arousal, just when I thought it wasn't possible to feel more desperate for this.
All of my senses are assaulted with you, moving inside of me, pliant lips and probing tongue, voice between kisses, so quiet it just has to be heard—Kaoru, Kaoru, and I love you; god, I really, really do, and I need—p-please...! sweetened with longing. Nothing less than genuine.
I shiver and plead shamelessly, even though I don't need to. You know what I want and you'll give it to me, without waiting for me to ask. But I know you like it when I do.
So I do.
"Touch me," I gasp, nearly imploding on the inside. "Touch me, Hikaru."
You breathe my name in just the way I like. I can feel you pulsing inside me, sending delightful shocks of pleasure through every nerve in my body.
You don't tease, just take my aching need in your hand. It's almost too much, feeling you pumping me in sync with your thrusts. I'm a sweaty, sobbing mess. The euphoria doesn't just fade away and get replaced again and again. It builds until I can't really even process anything but that feeling anymore.
I fist the sheets below me and push down, trying to convey my need by taking you in deeper. It's a little uncomfortable at first, but very worth it when a guttural moan rips from your throat.
The head of your arousal finally nudges that spot that makes my toes curl and muscles seize in pleasure.
"...Good?" you check breathlessly, staring at me through strands of damp hair hanging in your face. For such lust-fogged eyes, they seem startlingly clear.
"Yes!" I cry sharply. Yes, yes, yes, I'm okay. Yes, yes, I'm good. Very good.
You ensnare me in a long kiss in response to my resonating answer. My lips part almost immediately for your prodding tongue. I'm eager, and my mouth is compliant.
You hum in appreciation when I suck firmly on your bottom lip. It seems to be having the desired effect on you, because you start get quicker—deeper—striking that spot in me repeatedly while still managing to palm my leaking arousal.
"Hnn, a-aah..." you groan softly under my active lips.
I have never felt so amazing, I think, even though that goes through my lust-clouded (Hikaru-clouded) mind every time we do this. But I mean it every time. I really do.
You rock your hips firmly, directed just where I need it. The fact that you're staring at me for my reaction only serves to heighten the pleasure. I arch off the bed, toward you, with a hoarse whimper.
Your eyes search mine for a moment. I'm as exposed as I'll ever be; everything to see is there. I can't help but feel overjoyed that this particular aspect of how we've always been connected hasn't changed at all. It's one of the most important things we share.
Your admiring eyes mirror what I'm feeling. Your lips are curved in a smile that's a stunning combination of a soft, fully content grin and a sultry smirk. It makes the tenseness in my lower abdomen even harder to ignore. I mewl quietly, almost disbelieving of how incredible this feels.
I'm going to reach my peak soon, and from the increasing volume of my name and the throbbing and pulsing of you inside me, I can tell it won't be much longer for you, either.
I can't hang on any longer when you climax in me. I can hear you almost sobbing in pleasure through my own orgasm, so intense, I think it's making a mess out of time.
I'm shuddering almost uncontrollably, moaning fragments of the things going through my head,
"Hikaru, this is...this is..."
And you're groaning similar things, somehow answering, "I know, oh, god, I know," and I can't wrap my mind around how I can even hear you over how consuming the pleasure is, but you'll always have a voice more clear to me than anything else, even this, so what's wrong with me to even wonder why I can hear you?
Your tremors begin to slow as mine do. But even as you roll off of me—carefully sliding out, too, I dimly register—and pull a willing me into your arms, we're still both trembling a little, and I'm still having a hard time joining reality. But your regulated breathing is starting to bring me back gently enough to keep me comfortable with the transition.
As I lean into your embrace, you whisper, "Goodnight," faintly against my forehead. I just grin tiredly, even though I know you can't see it right now, and kiss your jaw in reply.
Once I get a chance to think about this later, I know I'm not even going to be sure whether or not you were still awake to feel that.
We end up sleeping this way for what's left of the night.
I used to think they were in love with illusions. I even thought it to be sort of pitiable, how they all so easily were able to fool themselves into believing in something that would never, in my mind, have a chance at being anything in the real world—which those girls only sometimes visited when the clouds in their fanciful mind cleared briefly, for whatever reason. And for them, I thought, reality was just a few hours of living dirty. Living poor. Which is, for a lot of people, just living.
Not that I'd know about that. I just imagine.
And then I realized what a hypocrite I was when you told me you didn't want to be my brother anymore.
"No, no, I mean—no, that's not it, Kaoru. Not exactly." you had quickly reasoned in a loud whisper once you'd seen how hurt I must have looked. I knew you were being serious. Genuine, like you've always been with me.
"You don't understand." you continued to hastily explain. I just stared into the nighttime dimness of our room that reminded me we should be asleep and wondered what don't I understand and what are you doing to us?
"I can't be anymore." you carried on in a hushed voice. "Your brother. Your twin. I can't."
"But you always will be." I reminded you. My voice was unstable, and so was I, but I didn't care. I would speak anyway.
I heard a sharp intake of air coming from your direction. I still didn't look at you.
"I know."
Your whispering had gone quiet and gentle, like normal again.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore your presence beside me, but that turned out to be impossible while thinking of how to carry on without you. And then you spoke again. Your voice was, as it has always been, a natural beckon to me. I listened. Of course I did.
"I can't change that, what we are...the people we were born to be. It would be wrong to ask you to pretend. I'm not going to. But I need, more than anything, for you to let me pretend. And I know how wrong of me it is to ask you of that, too. Kaoru, I...I know that."
I think you would've probably said more if I'd let you, but the wavering of your voice was beginning to become too much to handle. You were breaking, and I had no idea why. You weren't making any sense.
I turned onto my side to face you, finally. You were painful to look at. You appeared just as breakable as you'd sounded. I'd never wanted to see you look that way, ever.
"Pretend what?" I asked quietly. I watched as your eyes shimmered and grudgingly accepted the fact that, for once, my soothing tone did nothing to calm you.
I didn't touch you. I didn't want to break you. I didn't know what to do.
"Pretend to be something we're not, something we were never meant to be. What we already pretend, Kaoru. But I want you to pretend for me. That's what I want, but please don't think I expect you to. I'm not asking you to."
I could feel that you wanted to touch me, but you didn't.
I briefly thought over what you said, all the while keeping your apprehensive gaze. For a moment, I thought I knew what you meant. I thought I knew exactly what you were trying to tell me. I dismissed the thought almost immediately; it was ludicrous. But it meant that I was still important in your eyes. I'd done nothing wrong. So I held onto that thought, outrageous and twisted as it was.
"Do you understand?" you asked, forcing out the words breathlessly as if they were making you sick.
"Yeah."
But I didn't. Not really. All I understood was that you looked afraid, and I didn't like you like that. And I'd be willing to do or say anything to bring you back to me, the way I remembered.
You looked even more shaken after that. Then I felt as if I'd really done something wrong this time. I just wished I knew what. I can't tell you how guilty I felt at that moment.
"Is that..." you started, almost too quietly to hear. "...wrong?"
"Of course not." I answered quickly, voice full of conviction. Maybe I didn't completely know what you were talking about, and maybe I was having a lot of trouble seeing through you for once. But I was sure, definitely certain, that nothing you could ever do would be wrong.
I'm still sure.
I knew I'd finally answered something right when you started looking at me like you weren't afraid to anymore. I almost felt that I'd repented for some despicable sin I didn't remember committing when you smiled brightly. I felt purged. Relieved. It looked like you did, too.
"Really?" you asked in wonder.
I didn't even have to think about my response.
"Yes. Yes, really."
I felt your eyes staring into mine so intensely, it felt like you were probing the inside of my skull. You were searching for something. I wished I knew what, so that I could give it to you. But I guess it didn't matter. It turned out that I already had what you were looking for. I knew you'd found it when you touched me like I could tell you'd been keeping yourself from doing, though I couldn't imagine why.
You brought me closer to you. I wasn't at all resistant; I welcomed it, returned your embrace happily. Everything felt better. And then I figured it out when you pressed a warm kiss to my mouth. I figured out what you'd been trying to explain to me. I was astonished, and in a way, maybe even more confused than I'd been just a few moments ago. But I tried not to let it show. I didn't want to take away your happiness. I wouldn't.
I didn't push you away, or even tense up. And that was my silent acceptance. I let you draw involuntary responses from me; I let myself feel how my body was responding to the stimulation and growing activity; I let you touch me wherever you wanted to. Wherever I wanted you to.
I wanted you to.
I let myself understand what you had been trying to tell me.
And that was my silent agreement. It was how I said yes, that I would play a domestic game of house with you. But your version of the game didn't involve pretending.
I realized, after that, that maybe I used to be in love with illusions, too. Just in a very different way our doting fans were. I had seen our illusion as an illusion. But you made it something real. Almost frighteningly real.
I'm so glad we were too happy to be afraid.
"You got it wro-ong!" we announce in a sing-song tone to the hopeful-looking Which One is Hikaru? Game participant.
I watch indifferently as her face falls in disappointment. I'm used to this. She actually got this one wrong, but we would've given her the same verdict if she'd gotten it right. Guesses don't count. They have to know. And no one does, except for Haruhi. She was so sure about it before, so confident.
The nameless girl's eyes suddenly light up when her focus shifts behind us.
"Haruhi-kun!" she shrieks. "You can tell them apart, right?"
We're suddenly getting quite the audience.
"Um, I guess." I hear her answer behind us. I can't tell if she's being modest or if she really is unsure. She's difficult to read.
There's a brief silence, and then I hear Tamaki excitedly urging Haruhi to give "our dear princesses what they want!"
My scalp suddenly itches under my hat. I want to take it off.
As I turn around, looking to see what Haruhi will do, you do, too. Your hand is fumbling for mine, but I find yours first and grasp it without even thinking. We do this often, so it isn't at all unusual. What's strange is the tighter-than-usual grip you have on my hand.
I glance at you out of the corner of my eye; are you okay? I promise I won't let go until you do, if that's what you're worried about. Do you want to leave? We can. I'll come with, if you want.
But you're not looking at me. You're consumed with Haruhi's reluctant agreement to Tamaki and the girls' pleased squealing. I wish I knew what was going on under that damn hat.
I suddenly realize that she's approached us when I look away from you. She stares at us, long and hard, and I finally realize why you're acting strangely.
Everything seems to bleed away except for Haruhi's eyes darting back and fourth between us and the tightening of your grip on my hand; it's almost painful. But I swear, I won't let go.
I know what you're afraid of because I am, too. Maybe it's irrational, but it certainly doesn't feel like it right now. I'm afraid of her, afraid of what she might see if she looks close enough. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect Haruhi to be able to see what has been developing between us. We can hide it from others almost effortlessly, but Haruhi...she's different.
My breath hitches. I can feel the blood drain from my face when she points a slender finger in my direction.
She speaks, addressing our audience—not us.
"He's Hikaru,"
What...?
"And he's Kaoru." she concludes blandly, her gaze and finger shifting to Hikaru.
I'm still. I don't even know what to think. She can't see through us. She can only see who we are physically, but I should have never expected anything else from her. She's only human. I don't blame her, but I thought...maybe...
No, it's okay. I should be relieved. We can hide from her just as easily as we can everyone else. This should be okay.
My eyes dart to you to gauge your reaction. You're not looking at Haruhi anymore, just beyond her, at nothing. Your posture is stiff, eyes bewildered. You look...defeated.
The host club could fade out of existence and I wouldn't notice right now. Everyone's cheers at the lack of our rejection is just ambient noise. I know we won't even bother to tell Haruhi that she's wrong. I don't think she would care much, anyway. It's just a game, right?
I'm worried about you now. I know what you were expecting, what you didn't get, but what were you hoping for? I'm not even sure what I was hoping for. I was afraid she would see what our relationship has snowballed into. I thought that's what you were afraid of, too, but I guess it's this. Not being seen. I know how you feel right now. Insubstantial, like a ghost.
But she doesn't know. She can't see the gaps we've bridged together between us.
We're safe, but not sound.
I've barely gotten my Ouran blazer off before you speak to me. I'm relieved. You haven't said much today.
"Kaoru," you start unsteadily. I'm immediately anxious and headed toward you, and you make no move to stop me.
I'm not sure what you need right now, but I'm willing to try to give you anything I have.
You meet my meaningful stare as I wrap my arms lightly around your waist. Your tie is loose, hands fumbling with it, and your blazer is already gone.
I wait patiently for you to speak as I rediscover your body with my inquisitive hands, caressing only innocent places of you outside of your thin dress shirt, because I know this isn't the time to be suggestive.
You sigh and smile lazily; appreciatively. Thank you? My pleasure.
Your fingers eventually stop with the tie, as your mind seems to be on other things at the moment. Your careful hands seem to favor me. One around my back, pulling me closer to you, the other palming the back of my head and guiding it to yours.
Your lips are curved in a small smile, but your eyes are serious. I know which one I want to trust, but...
"Is anything wrong?" I ask seriously. I barely need to let my voice climb above a whisper; we're still so close.
Your smile falters briefly—just a moment, but more than long enough to alarm me. I'm paranoid, always thinking the worst; you've told me that before. But you're neurotic in the same ways when it comes to me, so you really can't talk.
I try to keep my outward anxiety to a minimum. I really don't want to influence you negatively like that, and I know I would. I'm always affecting your moods in some way, and vice versa.
After a seemingly endless, silent moment, you respond with a feather-light voice that contradicts your convicted expression. Your certain tone speaks for itself.
"No, no." you assure, hand slowly raising. My thoughts slow as you begin thumbing my cheek soothingly. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just...confused. I thought—Kaoru?"
I struggle to direct my attention to you, away from your gentle ministrations. The way you're addressing me makes me sure you know exactly what you're going to say, how to word whatever is on your mind.
"Hm?" I hum without breaking your gaze to show I'm listening. I'm always listening. Just tell me I'm not the only one wondering about—
"Do you think she ever really knew?"
I shouldn't feel so surprised. I saw how much what happened today affected you. I still don't know what to think of it. I suppose I should feel safe because of how opaque we are to everyone. We have more to hide than I'd like to admit, but something else isn't sitting well with me.
Seeking an answer from a person that hardly knows the question is redundant. I probably know less than you do. I'm confused. I don't want to think about it.
"I...don't know." I answer honestly, cheeks burning in shame that I can't offer a better answer. You look disappointed, but not surprised. I suppose I should be consoled by the fact that you probably weren't expecting a groundbreaking response from me, anyway.
Just hoping.
"I'm sorry." I add. "I just...I really can't say. I don't—I don't know if—"
"I know, Kaoru." you interrupt gently. "I know. It's okay; don't be sorry. I was just...wondering. It's fine."
You smile reassuringly. It looks mostly real, if not a little strained, but I appreciate the effort.
A moment of comfortable silence follows, during which you peck me softly on the lips, and then pull away much too quickly for my liking.
"Okay?" you ask, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face.
"Okay," I murmur distantly. I'm a little distracted by the feeling of your fingers lingering on my face, lips peppering light kisses down my neck.
The unresolved issue is forgotten for now. I know it will come back to prey on my peace of mind later, but I can't bring myself to think about that right now. Just you, lips faintly whispering pieces of thoughts of you and I, how I taste, how I feel to you, how you like to watch my eyelids fluttering when I'm dreaming and do I watch you sleep, too?
I allow you to guide me to our bed with a breathless laugh, so much happier than I expected I would be after today.
I try smiling. Frowing. Letting my eyes drift and then suddenly directing my stare back to the glass in the best imitation of surprise I can muster; Is that you? I think I know you! Do you remember me? Lips pursing and eyes narrowing in disappointment; Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else.
I'm not really sure what reflects what I'm actually feeling. I suppose I could blame my ignorance on the very dim glow that the small light near the mirror bathes the bathroom in, but I know better.
I don't even realize what I'm doing until I notice the faint fingerprints dotting the otherwise flawless surface. I pull my hand back, as if burned, and see my dubious and slightly troubled expression.
When my eyes dart from the mirror to the gap of the bathroom door, I realize that it isn't nearly as easy to keep my gaze as it is keeping yours. But I force myself to look again and keep my eyes level. I lean forward, taking in the shadows under my eyes, exhausted features begging for sleep, getting confused when I can't quite be sure if I'm seeing a boy or a man. I see something unfamiliar. And I know how little sense that makes. I know when I see you, I never have to think twice about what I'm seeing. I took that for granted until now.
Almost comically, things almost begin to feel clearer when my breath starts creating a foggy film and I can't see anything anymore, except for blots of blurry color.
Looking behind the fingerprints and condensed air, I know that perfection would be impossible to achieve. I have no idea why that notion makes me feel more comfortable, but it does.
The stranger in front of me is starting to materialize again, so I unhesitatingly avert my eyes and turn on my heel.
I don't know what I was looking for. Maybe distinction. I think I'm not finding that because there's nothing to find. That's it. And I know that's something, because I always find something when I look at you. Something new I hadn't noticed before, maybe a quirk or a mannerism, or maybe something even less tangible that I recognize as something that has always been there, but I'm only just seeing it.
But I can't imitate that, no matter how hard I try. There's something effortlessly real about the way you act, even. And I don't feel like I have that. The more I looked at myself, the more it felt like I didn't have anything. So what am I missing? You, maybe.
I try to do this as silently as possible, and I'm completely quiet, for the most part. I slip into bed without so much as a noise, save for the barely audible rustling of sheets. I figure it's probably pushing my luck, but I know I'm not going to get comfortable if we're going to sleep like strangers.
I settle against you and rest my face in the crook between your shoulder and neck. Your skin is so soft here, warm and smooth against my lips. I sigh a little, deeply content, and place a few indulgent kisses at the base of your neck, shoulder, juncture at the center of your collarbone, wherever. I hope I'm subtle enough to keep from waking you. I'm afraid I have when you suddenly shift and groan sleepily. Immediately, the kisses stop, though I can't bring myself to pull my mouth away.
I'm too consumed in mentally kicking myself for not having waited until at least the morning to realize you've begun to cling to me. And then it becomes all too apparent when you hook one leg around my waist.
"Kaoru," you mumble softly, voice radiating heady pleasure. "keep going."
I tremble against your relaxed form at the sound of your voice. I love the feeling of you melting against me, probably a little too much. I try to keep myself chaste. I want to sooth you to sleep, not get you aroused...though...no, that can wait. You should sleep. We both should.
I'd like to lull you to sleep this way every night. It's enough to keep my senses sated with you until the morning, daytime, when we have to find subtler ways to be this intimate.
I listen to you breathe easily. The rhythmic, relaxed exhalations almost coax me to sleep and my mouth slows against your skin. Just before I drift off, you murmur something quietly. Soft and still deeply convicted.
"You seem happy." I can hear a smile in your voice. I relax even more before I respond, nuzzling into your warmth. My face is buried in your chest, so I can't see your face. But I don't need to. I can feel your heartbeat, gentle and steady enough for me to know you're completely undistressed.
"I am." I answer seriously. I listen as you exhale deeply, waiting a few ephemeral moments before you speak in a tone that almost makes me shudder, it's so full of relief and fervent honesty.
"I am, too."
Something feels different. I'm not sure what. I'm not making any sense, as usual, and nothing has really changed, but it feels like it has. I don't know if any of this will ever make sense. But I don't think that matters, because I already know what's important. What I saw in the mirror wasn't particularly insightful because it was just me. I have to look inside for answers, and I was starting in the wrong place.
I don't want to be resilient to inevitable changes in my life. These changes will be different from yours, because there's no way we're going to experience the same things. And I don't mind that. I don't mind it at all because that's going to be the thing that shapes us into what we're supposed to be, whatever that is. There are things that can set us apart in some ways and bring us together in others. That's the only thing that can let our differences emerge. We can fight it, or we can let it happen. I know what I want to do.
I'll be ready when you are.
A/N: ...What did you think?