note : This is an Ernest/Gareas yaoi/slash fic. Don't like it? Don't read it. Simple, isn't it? ^_^
disclaimer : Characters and MK are not owned by me but I do own this fic. Post it somewhere w/o my permission and I shall maim you thoroughly.
---
It still stings a little.
I'd never.... I'd never hit him before. No wonder I have this mark on my hand.... Even when he'd get annoyed and grab me by my collar and yell that I need to get out more and talk about more interesting things or I'd bore him to death, I just let him. Even when he grabbed my arm, back when we were both still candidates, and we ran so fast to the classes that I thought my lungs would explode, I just let him. However he wanted to treat me and whatever he wanted to do, I just let him. It's part of my personality, I suppose. I'm not very aggressive. However....
I will not just sit back and let him get himself killed.
This is the one thing I will not let you do, Gareas.
Idiot. I'd ask what in God's name you thought you were doing out there but you _know_. You knew exactly what you were doing and how incredibly stupid it was. Do you have any idea how scared I was for you? Any idea? And Leena, back on the ship.... Didn't you see her eyes when you returned? Gareas.... I can't stand to see you hurt. I won't let you hurt me in such a way either, or Leena. We both care about you, deeply. You know it -- you've got to know it! -- so why.... why are you pushing yourself like this? It's not helping anything and you'll only get yourself killed. Why can't you see it? You're such an idiot!
Though I'm the bigger one for being in love with you, I suppose. You really don't treat me like friends should sometimes, but I understand. Yelling and snarling; it's just how you show your concern and your worry when things don't go right. It's fine though. I only mind it when I'm having a poor day for some reason, but even then, I wouldn't dream of doing anything other than allow you to continue to rant and rage about something or anything, usually how much of a bore I am. You're such a liar in public, Gareas. Yet we all have our false faces and facades, so it's alright. Yours is the loud and ever-confident pilot of Eeva Leena and mine is the quiet and submissive pilot of Luhma Klein. Both very much a part of us and both almost total lies.
You're loud, in almost everything you do, but you don't have the confidence that you like to project. I'm quiet and, while I would certainly not consider myself aggressive, I am not a submissive doormat either. I think I proved that today. And I refuse to apologize for it. You deserved that punch completely and you know it, Gareas.
I know I sound a little cold. Maybe I am cold, like this railing underneath my fingertips. Hm, that's not a very good analogy, is it? Maybe this large room I'm in? Comfortable and cozy looking but really very empty? Should I compare myself to the darkness of space I'm staring at then? No.... I'm not nearly that unfeeling, nor that vast. I suppose the railing will do. Now, what to compare you to, Gareas?
Ah.... I can feel you coming from over a kilometer away, you know. That's why when you tried to sneak up behind me to stick that goldfish -- I'm still utterly and completely baffled as to _where_ you got that poor thing from -- down my back when we were still candidates, you didn't get within even arm's reach. I wish that I had turned around to see your expression, but it's years too late for that now.
"Ernest...."
I sigh softly and shift my attention away from the tiny specks of light against the darkness and look at him. The contrast in imagery almost sends me reeling for a moment; space so cold and black and white and he so warm and tan and green. Perhaps I'm thinking too much. Maybe what he says sometimes is right. Maybe being by myself most of the time really isn't very good for me after all.
"Yes Gareas?" I keep my voice soft, calm. I already blew up at him once today -- the slightly darker spot against the rest of his skin is testimony to that -- and I won't do it again.
He ducks his head a little -- cute -- and looks away. Mouth opens, closes. I wait patiently for him to speak. He was the one who sought me out this time, instead of me hurrying after his heels, angry and upset at his stupid stunt from earlier. "I'm...." His mouth closes again and I continue to wait. He won't apologize -- it's just how he is -- but I doubt he's going to yell at me for hitting him. Honestly Gareas, why did you come here when.... he's shaking again?
"It's funny," he says, voice quiet, "I've been doing this ever since earlier...."
I frown. I can't help it, he's.... the person I care most in the world about is standing there, staring at the ground with a bruise forming on his jaw, arms wrapped around himself while he shakes in his pilot's uniform. God, Gareas....
I'm a little surprised at myself at how quickly my arms wrap around him and at how easily his head comes forward to rest on my shoulder. I repress a physical wince at the course of emotions running through him. Confusion, anger, fear.... so much fear.... I sigh a little, slowly regulating it. It's a talent Erts doesn't have quite yet -- soon though, soon. Part of it comes with age and the fact that my EX, like the other pilots', is weakening and part of it comes from my hard-learned ability to control it to a degree. It's times like this that I'm glad for it.
God, he really is shaking. I hug him tighter, trying to will it to stop. It's alright, I want to murmur, it's alright. I won't let anything happen to you, ever. I'll do anything within my power to keep you safe and happy, Gareas. Even when we're no longer pilots, I'll still be here to offer whatever I can to you. I love you and it's alright so please stop shaking, Gareas. I say none of it though. Some of it he doesn't need to know and some of it he already does.
Slowly, with what I suspect is a barely quieted sniffle, his quaking arms come up to wrap around my chest, squeezing me so tight that I'm amazed I can still breath. I return the tight embrace -- please stop shaking, Gareas -- and we remain like that for a few long moments before he finally stills, a slow sigh escaping him.
".... thanks." I almost miss it, the quiet mumbling against the fabric covering my shoulder.
I smile softly at that; a thank-you from him is almost as rare as an apology. "You're welcome." I would do anything for you. This.... holding you like this was nothing. Other than perhaps a quiet moment of happiness for me, despite the worry and fear I can still almost _feel_ moving through you. Really, I should be the one thanking you, if anything.
He raises his head and I tilt my own to look him in the face. The bruise isn't very bad or large at all but still.... I do feel bad for it, despite the fact that he utterly deserved it. He still does deserve it, unless he listens to me, listens to reason.... His green eyes catch mine and I'm having a bit of trouble thinking all of a sudden. "Ernest...."
"M-Mm?" Trouble speaking too? God....
"This is going to sound really stupid but," he pauses, giving a long exhalation of breath, "would you mind staying in my quarters tonight? Nothing big, can crash on a cot or something but...." He shrugs a little, glancing away again. I can feel his fear, that worry that seems to be soaking him today, and I nod. He needs to be with _someone_ tonight and looking as how he likely pushed Leena away from him if he came searching me out.... I'd be happy to.
Anything for you, you idiot.
---
-end chapter one
disclaimer : Characters and MK are not owned by me but I do own this fic. Post it somewhere w/o my permission and I shall maim you thoroughly.
---
It still stings a little.
I'd never.... I'd never hit him before. No wonder I have this mark on my hand.... Even when he'd get annoyed and grab me by my collar and yell that I need to get out more and talk about more interesting things or I'd bore him to death, I just let him. Even when he grabbed my arm, back when we were both still candidates, and we ran so fast to the classes that I thought my lungs would explode, I just let him. However he wanted to treat me and whatever he wanted to do, I just let him. It's part of my personality, I suppose. I'm not very aggressive. However....
I will not just sit back and let him get himself killed.
This is the one thing I will not let you do, Gareas.
Idiot. I'd ask what in God's name you thought you were doing out there but you _know_. You knew exactly what you were doing and how incredibly stupid it was. Do you have any idea how scared I was for you? Any idea? And Leena, back on the ship.... Didn't you see her eyes when you returned? Gareas.... I can't stand to see you hurt. I won't let you hurt me in such a way either, or Leena. We both care about you, deeply. You know it -- you've got to know it! -- so why.... why are you pushing yourself like this? It's not helping anything and you'll only get yourself killed. Why can't you see it? You're such an idiot!
Though I'm the bigger one for being in love with you, I suppose. You really don't treat me like friends should sometimes, but I understand. Yelling and snarling; it's just how you show your concern and your worry when things don't go right. It's fine though. I only mind it when I'm having a poor day for some reason, but even then, I wouldn't dream of doing anything other than allow you to continue to rant and rage about something or anything, usually how much of a bore I am. You're such a liar in public, Gareas. Yet we all have our false faces and facades, so it's alright. Yours is the loud and ever-confident pilot of Eeva Leena and mine is the quiet and submissive pilot of Luhma Klein. Both very much a part of us and both almost total lies.
You're loud, in almost everything you do, but you don't have the confidence that you like to project. I'm quiet and, while I would certainly not consider myself aggressive, I am not a submissive doormat either. I think I proved that today. And I refuse to apologize for it. You deserved that punch completely and you know it, Gareas.
I know I sound a little cold. Maybe I am cold, like this railing underneath my fingertips. Hm, that's not a very good analogy, is it? Maybe this large room I'm in? Comfortable and cozy looking but really very empty? Should I compare myself to the darkness of space I'm staring at then? No.... I'm not nearly that unfeeling, nor that vast. I suppose the railing will do. Now, what to compare you to, Gareas?
Ah.... I can feel you coming from over a kilometer away, you know. That's why when you tried to sneak up behind me to stick that goldfish -- I'm still utterly and completely baffled as to _where_ you got that poor thing from -- down my back when we were still candidates, you didn't get within even arm's reach. I wish that I had turned around to see your expression, but it's years too late for that now.
"Ernest...."
I sigh softly and shift my attention away from the tiny specks of light against the darkness and look at him. The contrast in imagery almost sends me reeling for a moment; space so cold and black and white and he so warm and tan and green. Perhaps I'm thinking too much. Maybe what he says sometimes is right. Maybe being by myself most of the time really isn't very good for me after all.
"Yes Gareas?" I keep my voice soft, calm. I already blew up at him once today -- the slightly darker spot against the rest of his skin is testimony to that -- and I won't do it again.
He ducks his head a little -- cute -- and looks away. Mouth opens, closes. I wait patiently for him to speak. He was the one who sought me out this time, instead of me hurrying after his heels, angry and upset at his stupid stunt from earlier. "I'm...." His mouth closes again and I continue to wait. He won't apologize -- it's just how he is -- but I doubt he's going to yell at me for hitting him. Honestly Gareas, why did you come here when.... he's shaking again?
"It's funny," he says, voice quiet, "I've been doing this ever since earlier...."
I frown. I can't help it, he's.... the person I care most in the world about is standing there, staring at the ground with a bruise forming on his jaw, arms wrapped around himself while he shakes in his pilot's uniform. God, Gareas....
I'm a little surprised at myself at how quickly my arms wrap around him and at how easily his head comes forward to rest on my shoulder. I repress a physical wince at the course of emotions running through him. Confusion, anger, fear.... so much fear.... I sigh a little, slowly regulating it. It's a talent Erts doesn't have quite yet -- soon though, soon. Part of it comes with age and the fact that my EX, like the other pilots', is weakening and part of it comes from my hard-learned ability to control it to a degree. It's times like this that I'm glad for it.
God, he really is shaking. I hug him tighter, trying to will it to stop. It's alright, I want to murmur, it's alright. I won't let anything happen to you, ever. I'll do anything within my power to keep you safe and happy, Gareas. Even when we're no longer pilots, I'll still be here to offer whatever I can to you. I love you and it's alright so please stop shaking, Gareas. I say none of it though. Some of it he doesn't need to know and some of it he already does.
Slowly, with what I suspect is a barely quieted sniffle, his quaking arms come up to wrap around my chest, squeezing me so tight that I'm amazed I can still breath. I return the tight embrace -- please stop shaking, Gareas -- and we remain like that for a few long moments before he finally stills, a slow sigh escaping him.
".... thanks." I almost miss it, the quiet mumbling against the fabric covering my shoulder.
I smile softly at that; a thank-you from him is almost as rare as an apology. "You're welcome." I would do anything for you. This.... holding you like this was nothing. Other than perhaps a quiet moment of happiness for me, despite the worry and fear I can still almost _feel_ moving through you. Really, I should be the one thanking you, if anything.
He raises his head and I tilt my own to look him in the face. The bruise isn't very bad or large at all but still.... I do feel bad for it, despite the fact that he utterly deserved it. He still does deserve it, unless he listens to me, listens to reason.... His green eyes catch mine and I'm having a bit of trouble thinking all of a sudden. "Ernest...."
"M-Mm?" Trouble speaking too? God....
"This is going to sound really stupid but," he pauses, giving a long exhalation of breath, "would you mind staying in my quarters tonight? Nothing big, can crash on a cot or something but...." He shrugs a little, glancing away again. I can feel his fear, that worry that seems to be soaking him today, and I nod. He needs to be with _someone_ tonight and looking as how he likely pushed Leena away from him if he came searching me out.... I'd be happy to.
Anything for you, you idiot.
---
-end chapter one