i caught leopika brainrot out of nowhere ahaha help

this was more of a trial run as i get to know their characters better but much of my inspiration came from morfiumd's incredible art! please visit them at morfiumd on tumblr (i hate that still won't let you link out, ugh sorry)

& the title is from this lovely poem: Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem, bob hicok

hope you enjoy! ^^

When he thinks back on this moment later, he won't remember how they got there—Kurapika pressed back against his living room wall with Leorio only inches away from him, eyes tracing the way twilight paints his skin in lemon-tangerine pastels, how it catches prettily on the ruby gem decorating his ear and twines through his golden hair—he'll only remember that once they were there, Leorio can't bring himself to pull away. Can't force himself to put distance between them like he should (his mind crying no, no more distance, he hates how much distance they've already endured, has had enough for an entire lifetime) before he does something irreversible. Something he's wanted to do for long enough now that he can't recall the first time the thought flitted its way through his mind, innocent and jarring all at once, just that the moment it appeared he's thought of little else.

But then Kurapika, with all the swiftness of a viper, drops his gaze for what can only be less than a second before he meets Leorio's eyes again. It's a motion so quick that any other time Leorio might have overlooked it, or dismissed it, but now? Impossible. Not with the air so thick between them, as if any movement would create palpable ripples against their skin; there's no way he couldn't notice. He knows what he saw and stars, this man doesn't know how to go easy on him, does he?

(No, Kurapika has never gone easy on anything in his life. When he's decided he wants something, he sinks his teeth in and there are few things in the world that can convince him to let go, ease up, move on. If he's being honest, Leorio wouldn't mind being one of them.

Besides, two can play that game. They often do.)

Leaning in, he brings his hands up slowly, achingly slow—leaving no room for question of his intentions, utterly transparent—until he's brushing his knuckles feather-light across the soft skin of Kurapika's cheeks. When he cups his face fully, he can't help but marvel a little at how perfectly they fit together; like his hands were made just for cradling Kurapika between them. He pauses, waits a heartbeat, never breaking eye contact as he leans in, millimeter by aching millimeter—thump—thump—thump—until the gentle slope of Kurapika's nose brushes his and he can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over his lips.

He waits another heartbeat, two—expects Kurapika to push him away but instead swears he hears the breath halt in his throat—before finally, finally sewing up the remaining distance between them for good.

No turning back. No more pretending that three A.M. phone calls and voicemails he's lost count of don't haunt his nightmares the same as sunlight glinting gold off a peek-a-boo gemstone and the breathy music of laughter grace his sweetest dreams. Distance be damned; Kurapika may end him for it but, all the same, he might just die if he holds back now.

Leorio presses closer, closer, no room for hesitation or doubt now—Kurapika has stilled beneath him in surprise—had he thought Leorio wouldn't?—just for a second, one of his hands raising automatically to grab at Leorio's wrist until he twists his hand to lace their fingers together and presses the back of his small hand to the wall as Kurapika starts kissing back—

It's a soft explorative slide of lips—curious, because beneath all that rage and grief, he's always been so damn curious, it's endearing when he's not driving Leorio into madness—before, without warning, he goes utterly pliant beneath him. Soft, in a way that he's never allowed himself to be in all the time Leorio has known him. It feels vulnerable, like lead the way, I trust you in this, and Leorio never asked for this, never envisioned or wished for surrender, but stars—he'd be a liar to pretend it doesn't have him falling that much further.

He pulls back only enough to adjust the angle before sinking right back in; the quiet gasp Kurapika gifts him weakens his knees, leaves them pressed chest to chest for some semblance of stability. Helpless to it he kisses harder, pours every bitten back plea and choked down admission into it, tangles his fingers in that soft hair and hooks his thumb beneath his jaw to tip his head the way he wants, Kurapika following his every lead so eagerly—

His frantic pants and racing pulse remind Leorio to slow down, take it easy, it's his first kiss. Even if his whiny whimpers are siren's song to dive right back in, to sink fully into the moment and be damned to surface for sanity, he's not quite gone enough to lose Kurapika along the way. So, despite the effort it takes, Leorio draws back just enough to give Kurapika some space—but not too much, he can't bear the distance now that he's finally bridged it—and slowly opens his eyes.

The scarlet that greets him is startling, breathtaking, a shade unlike any he's ever seen—the most alluring of ruby lit from behind by flame—framed by dark lashes, pupils blown with an emotion he can't quite place. There's a charming matching flush splashed across his cheeks, highlighted by the gentle strokes of dusk as the sun continues its slow descent beyond the curtains. Leorio can hardly believe he's the cause of it.

"Breathe," he reminds Kurapika in a hushed voice, husky with restraint. He thumbs the line of his jaw tenderly as he squeezes the hand the hand he still holds against the wall, an amused smile tilting his lips when Kurapika's shoulders drop with a shaky breath. He inhales deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, lashes fluttering closed to hide that enthralling shade as he collects himself. He always gets so invested in the things he's passionate about, Leorio thinks with equal parts exasperation and fondness, enough to forget himself. But it's fascinating the see such energy directed towards something like this—towards someone like him.

And Leorio almost breaks down, almost kisses him again, because he looks so positively wrecked with his kiss-bruised lips and pretty blush that's spread up the curve of his ears and down the dip of his collarbone, and stars, those eyes—all because of him—

But then Kurapika meets his gaze again, the crimson hue no less striking even as he regains control of himself, and orders in a hoarse whisper, "Again."

(Oh. Maybe not as in control as he'd like to appear.)

Something about that stuns him, the thought that he has the power to crumble Kurapika's resolve, and he gets a little lost taking him in; the shape of his mouth, the fire in his eyes, the gravely timbre when he growls impatiently at Leorio's daze. Kurapika meets no resistance when he reaches up to grasp the back of his neck, none-too-gently yanking him right back in; Leorio is more than happy to oblige his every demand.

thanks for reading! as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts!

come chat with me anytime on tumblr at sawamura-daichis-thighs or twitter at ms_refreshing 💕