for Ryuuken <3
Kanda's Hands
Kanda's hands were slim but strong, long fingers wrapping easily around Mugen's hilt to grip it steadily as he moved, be it through kata or battle. The sword's hilt rested comfortably against his palm, the weight familiar and comfortable, a constant companion at his side. It was hard now, for Kanda to recall a time when he did not have his blade within reach for it had near become a part of him, an extension of his hands. The hands that brought death and destruction with but a flick of the wrist. Kanda didn't care much for his hands, stained with the blood of everyone and everything he's killed or let die.
On the other hand, Rabi loved Kanda's hands, slender and pale, calloused in all the right places. He never tired of seeing them move through the air as Kanda spoke, irritated and annoyed with the Bookman heir, never tired of seeing them holding a pair of chopsticks or that sword he was never far from, and he especially never tired of seeing them as Kanda arched beneath him, aching and wanting. He liked watching as Kanda's hands twisted in the sheets beneath them, or splayed flat against Rabi's chest, or tangled in the deep redness that was Rabi's hair. Rabi would catch a wrist and bring it to his lips, lightly sucking at the pulse that lay beneath the surface, or press a kiss to the palm, delighting in the faint shiver that shook the swordsman's frame, or take each digit into the wet heat of his mouth, unable to repress a pleased smirk as Kanda gasped.
Still, regardless of how much he loved seeing Kanda's hands as they walked through their lives, one day at a time, one night at a time, Rabi decided he liked seeing Kanda's hands best when they were laced with his own as they leaned on one another atop a grassy knoll, watching the sun set and the moon rise in a comfortable silence.