Never had he seen the calm that silence could have bought- his head was always spinning with way too many thoughts.
Mathias looked at Lukas, whose eyes silently follow the water as it slips down the hillside and somewhere, probably to a better place. It hurt his heart to see him stare like that, so cold and dead and resigned. It made him want to pump life back into him somehow- he just didn't know how to even start.
How cruel of them it was to rob him of his innocence. How cruel it was to make a beautiful boy so bitter before he even hit the age of six. He remembered the scent of vomit and alcohol that clung to his best friend's school uniform, the way his bangs hung over his face to cover the bruises, the way he never answered questions in class because he was afraid of what would be asked- and with reason.
He remembered the bruises all over his lover's body when he undressed him for the first time, and the shame that painted his features when they were exposed. It had been a struggle for both of them, the night of the deflowering- Lukas knew the bruises pained Mathias to look at; Mathias knew he was taking all that Lukas had left. He knew it, and he cherished it, held it close to his heart. It was his dearest treasure, only tied with Lukas himself- of course he never seemed to understand that. He would probably never understand that.
Why did it have to happen to them- how did it happen, anyway? Why to such a beautiful, beautiful person- it made Mathias want to scream damnation to the heavens for letting it happen.
Take me instead. Why didn't you take me instead?
The Norwegian is still staring out at the water, as has been his ritual for all of the years they've been coming here. Mathias twines their hands together, almost afraid that Lukas, his Lukas, will be whisked away with the current if he doesn't. He can't risk losing him- he can never let go. So slowly- slowly, tentatively, he leans in and steals a kiss, breaking the other's stare. It's soft and sweet and not like anything else in their lives. Lukas lets himself be kissed, even closing his eyes slightly, before they eventually break for air.
"I can take rougher, you know."
Mathias nods, but doesn't respond. He knows. He knows Lukas can take harder. He's seen him do it, and he doesn't want to. It hurts a little bit every time he does.
"You don't need to be gentle with me."
He does, though. He needs to be gentle with Lukas, if not for Lukas's sake for his own sanity. He couldn't stand to be his tormentor- he wanted to heal him. Or at least hold him together to keep him from shattering into a million pieces that he'd never be able to find again. At least if those million pieces were in his arms he'd be able to love them.
Sometimes, he knew that Lukas wanted him to be rougher. Mathias wasn't stupid, and he wasn't even oblivious to it. It was for the wrong reasons, though- it had to be. He only wanted to be hurt because he didn't know anything else. For some reason Mathias seemed to keep failing to show him any different, no matter how hard he tried to kiss gently and make love- not fuck. Never fuck. No matter how many times he repeated fuck me fuck me fuck me it couldn't be fucking. Fucking was without love. He loved Lukas too much.
Desperately, Mathias searched deep, blue eyes for any signs of warmth. He just looked so hollow sometimes- it scared him. It was like he was already dead, with eyes still open. The times he looked most alive were with eyes closed, cheeks flushed, lips parted in silent pleas for more and more and more than he had to give, but gave anyway.
Eventually, Lukas leaned in and bought their lips together for another kiss, soft as its predecessor. They stay connected until minutes later; Lukas is the one that breaks the kiss to speak.
"You don't need to worry so much."
"But I love you."
It's said with truth ringing in every syllable, undeniable and insistent and there. It's potent enough that even Lukas seems to react for once, even if only with a slight change in his gaze. The frankness with which he says it- love- makes his lover look to the side and shift on the ground they're sitting on. It takes a minute for Lukas to meet his eyes again, and when he does the Dane grips his hand tighter.
He looks like he's deep in thought again, withdrawn and aloof as usual, and Mathias isn't angry at him for it. Not his fault- it's just what he's learned to do over the years. And so, he focused on the slender hand in his own, almost letting his own mind wander until a barely audible voice met his ears.
"I love you, too."
And for once, his long-dead lover seemed almost alive.
Author's Note: Totally impulsive, written in about an hour while listening to Agnes Obel's song of the same name. Make what you will of it. (I may or may not add onto this- I have an idea but it's probably not getting written right away, so here's just this for now).
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