Darkest before dawn

Masamune watched Ritsu in a loving awe. He truly wished these small, rare moments would never end. He would never cease to not dread the knowingness of what morning would bring.

In just a few hours, possibly less, the brunette would walk away. Denying any affection and earnestly protesting his way towards the exit.

Even after several repetitive nights of lustful and passionate intimacy, there was no escaping the break of dawn. And when the dawn had turned to day, he was evidently sure on one thing:

All the heated moments would become a dazed memory.. and turn solely into a questionable reality.

Masamune had come to wonder if this 'fuck-buddy' relationship was all Ritsu would allow them to be. If their battle for dominance and flustered touch of the skin was a form of revenge, then was chasing this man worth the while?

It was undeniable that these types of questions and doubts would cross his mind from time to time. They were bound to appear and repeat through any persons' mind in this game of cat and mouse. Although, in the deepest depths of his apathetic core, he almost did not want to believe -to accept- the situation he came to fall into without warning. He had never believed that a situation similar to that of a manga, would stumble upon his own path. And the reason why it had happened to him, would most likely remain unknown.

Masamune, exhaustedly depressed, studied a yearning gaze upon the brunette that lie comfortably asleep next to him. He deliberately began to memorize every inch of the younger male. Taking note of every movement, every unconscious mumble, every shade of darkness that covered him from small light, and every 'Senpai' he had come to speak throughout the night.

Masamune longed to know more about this man. His likes, his dislikes. His past, and his future. He longed so deeply to know it all. They could easily exchange views and conversations between each other, if only, neither of them were afraid to give away to much and wind up alone and a shattered once more.

They were only human. And they were most definitely imperfect, and yet, in the eyes of Masamune, Ritsu was all that he should be. There would always be points in their 'relationship' that had ticked Masamune off to no extend. Ritsu was stubborn, ever more so than back in high school. It is evident to Masamune now, that Ritsu was just itching to break out of his shell back then. But even through the fairly obvious and perplexing changes the brunette had succumb to, it was seemingly so that Ritsu had been too afraid to be someone he secretly was in front of his Senpai.

Ritsu must've known back then, that in order to keep his Senpai, he had to consentingly allow confinement to be the person that Saga had needed at the time. In any other case, it was patent that no matter what, Masamune was the foundation in the building, and breaking, of Ritsu's shell.

Masamune wanted to engrave all these beautiful traits of the other in his memory. Burning them to the very front, too cherish and reflect upon when he found himself lonesome. For surely, if this was all they were destined to be,

He swore to never forget it.

Ritsu shifted his weight around, a sleepy groan escaping his parted lips. He unconsciously turned to face Masamune, searching for warmth and security unaware, with an undirected hand. Masamune smiled at this, the sight had made him want to cry.

Here he was, so close.. so damn close…

And still, still so damn far..

He scooted his body as close as he could to the smaller male, wrapping his broad arms around the petite form. Ritsu snuggled comfortably into Masamune's chest, his soft, silent inhales of oxygen tickling him. His eyes fluttered behind unknown dreams, bed hair directed every which way on his pillow.

Masamune rested his chin above Ritsu's head, swallowing his sadness in a pained expression. He knows this moment will soon pass. And though he is reluctant to close his eyes and welcome sleep to keep morning from arriving faster, he recognizes he also has priorities. And perceiving this priorities means acknowledging them, and taking full responsibility for them.

And when morning comes, he prays that tomorrow will possibly bring him a miracle. He does not believe in god, no. All the same, he prays to the air. To the thin thread of hope. To fate and destiny. And he prays to the morning sun,

That the darkest hour will be only before dawn.

Dedicated to all my supporters; everyone who followed/favorited/reviews any or all my stories, I am so happy to have you guys as readers. So this one's for you. :p

Hey guys. I know I haven't updated anything in like what? A month? Dude, im sorry. I have all the stuff written out but it still needs to be edited towards the end (for all stories that need to be updated.) SORRY! I'll get them out soon, I promise.

Bear with me.

Thanks for reading.

-J.J.