(no subject)
Title: Just A Little Broken
Pairing/Characters: AschxLuke
Genre: Emo fluff
Rating: PG
Summary: Pitifully short ficlet between Asch and Luke in the middle of the night. Asch muses, Luke annoys him and then makes him feel secretly warm and fuzzy, as usual.
Asch wasn't sure if it was due to the fact that when the sun set, the stars emerged and the world hushed, people had an innate tendency to become far more sentimental, or if it was because it was the one time his mouth was finally shut, but he loved watching his replica sleep.
He loved the rise and fall of his chest, the gentle shush of his breathing past softly parted lips, his hair tousled, flyaway strands draped helter-skelter over his face and pillow, causing his appearance to be so disheveled that were he the type, Asch might have called it cute. Occasionally, Luke would shift or murmur in his sleep, and all it took from Asch was a brush of his knuckles against Luke's cheek to quiet him again. He wasn't sure if this was because Luke was a heavy sleeper, or if it went so far as Luke somehow sensing his presence, because in the end it didn't really matter.
Another reason to love the times when his replica slept was, for those moments, Asch could let himself smile, admire, be something other than the cold, steel-hardened soldier Van had molded him into. He could brush his lips against Luke's temple, press his face into his hair, hold him simply for the warmth. It was comforting, and sometimes, Asch thought that it was the only thing keeping him from curling up and passing on.
Also, when Luke was asleep, Asch didn't have to see that defeated, self-loathing look in his eyes. Why in the world the stupid replica thought he was so worthless was beyond him; hell, even he was constantly telling him to have more confidence in himself, and Asch had more reason than anyone to believe that Luke truly was useless.
It was almost infuriating enough to debate leaving him behind for good...if Asch didn't know that at this point, it could very well destroy him. He was terrified of being abandoned, and Asch was terrified of being forgotten, replaced or uneeded, so they made a pretty needy and pathetic pair.
...Although in his opinion, he was the far less pathetic half of it.
Luke chose that moment to sigh and roll over onto his side, blinking sleepily at Asch with dark eyes. "...Are you still up?" he whispered.
"Good guess," Asch answered dryly, rolling his eyes.
Luke frowned, and Asch almost kissed him, he was so cute. "Why are you so cranky?" Uncute.
"I just don't have the patience to deal with stupid questions from stupid replicas," Asch snapped back, but much to his surprise, Luke -instead of shouting in retaliation or sulking- only snorted, closing his eyes and snuggling against the ex-god general.
"Whatever."
The silence between them, while not awkward, was so heavy with unspoken challenges, confessions, words, fears and thoughts that Asch felt he would go mad with the anticipation. As reluctant as he was to break down and ask first, it was apparent that Luke was not at all interested in talking, so therefore it was up to the original to jump start a conversation that had all the potential of ending disasterously. "...Luke."
The redhead looked up at that; Asch used his name only when he wanted his attention. "Yeah?"
Shocking even himself, Asch lifted a gentle hand and brushed Luke's bangs from his forehead, delving into those eyes he despised so much (because of the hopelessness that mirrored his own, because of the quiet adoration he didn't deserve) and only staring, silent, stroking Luke's forehead.
The reverent moment was broken when Luke whispered, sadly, "I'm sorry."
Almost at once, anger and exasperation flared within Asch and he threw an arm out to fling the covers from himself, climbing out of bed. A hand closed around his wrist, insistant, and gave a gentle tug back to the bed. "Not because of the usual." That made him pause.
"Then why?"
"Because no matter what I do, I can't take away that horrible look in your eyes."
Asch sucked in a breath; hearing his own deepest regret, said aloud, in his own voice to boot, was almost enough to make it real. "...Luke..."
"And I know it's the same thing you see in mine, the same look that makes you avoid me whenever I try to look at you. And I want to tell you that...it's enough, knowing that you feel the same way, and understand what I mean when I say that I'm nervous." The fingers tightened, almost to the point of becoming painful, and Asch could feel Luke's tremors in his own arm.
"...That's now how it's supposed to work. You're going to stay."
"I don't think so." Luke shook his head, and Asch felt a surge of anger at his defeatist attitude.
"What's wrong with you?! Do you want to die?!"
Luke's voice was hushed, but still struck Asch like a slap to the face. "You seem pretty ready to."
It took a moment for Asch to collect his thoughts and form an excuse that didn't ring pitiful in his mind. "I've resigned myself, replica, and that's just how it is."
"You're giving up awfully easy. Doesn't Kimlasca matter to you? Don't Mother and Father, and Natalia?" Luke, knowing fully aware the tongue-lashing he could receive for treading on forbidden topic ground, ventured further. "Don't I?"
"Dreck," and Luke knew Asch was mad when he adopted that positively sub-zero tone, "you know very well my stance on all those things, and if you made me repeat myself, I will get dressed and leave right now."
It was a very real threat that Asch had no problem upholding as he'd actually done it twice before, but Luke pushed aside his trepidation; this was important. "I just don't get why you're allowed to be so willingly suicidal, but I say one word about it and you just blow up or shut down. It's annoying."
"Not as annoying as your constant nagging."
Luke sighed. "If you'd just come home-"
Asch wrenched his wrist from Luke's grip to throw his hands in the air. "And there's the topic of the conversation, rearing its ugly head! I'm not going home, dreck and that's final! You ask me about it again and I'm leaving for good!"
"I'm not asking, I'm telling you to go back home already!"
"That isn't my home!"
"Yes it is! Mother and Father miss you! Why won't you go back?!"
"Why the hell would I go back and let them watch their son die?!" Asch's breathing came in quick gasps, and he took the newfound silence resulting from Luke's shock to elaborate. "You think that would make them happy?! They have you and they're satisfied with it, so let's just leave it at that!" Quickly gathering his clothes, Asch began to dress himself before a pair of arms wound themselves tightly around his waist and tugged him back to sit on the bed. "Let me go, dreck!"
Luke pressed his face against Asch's back, muttering. "You aren't going to die."
"You don't know a damn thing."
"I'll fix you." Luke was shaking again, and lighting desperate, pleading kisses along Asch's spine. "I'll fix you. I promise. You'll be okay."
Asch sat, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed as Luke clung to him with his forehead to his back, offering his feeble reassurances. It was strange, that he for once he wasn't angry, or sad, or hurt or alone or so very tired and cold, because of the warm hands on his stomach and the lips against his back. And he thought that maybe if Luke would stay there, with him, then perhaps it wasn't so hopeless, perhaps he could be fixed.
Maybe he really was just broken after all.
seki_yumizu drew delicious, gorgeous FANART HOMG!!!!
Pairing/Characters: AschxLuke
Genre: Emo fluff
Rating: PG
Summary: Pitifully short ficlet between Asch and Luke in the middle of the night. Asch muses, Luke annoys him and then makes him feel secretly warm and fuzzy, as usual.
Asch wasn't sure if it was due to the fact that when the sun set, the stars emerged and the world hushed, people had an innate tendency to become far more sentimental, or if it was because it was the one time his mouth was finally shut, but he loved watching his replica sleep.
He loved the rise and fall of his chest, the gentle shush of his breathing past softly parted lips, his hair tousled, flyaway strands draped helter-skelter over his face and pillow, causing his appearance to be so disheveled that were he the type, Asch might have called it cute. Occasionally, Luke would shift or murmur in his sleep, and all it took from Asch was a brush of his knuckles against Luke's cheek to quiet him again. He wasn't sure if this was because Luke was a heavy sleeper, or if it went so far as Luke somehow sensing his presence, because in the end it didn't really matter.
Another reason to love the times when his replica slept was, for those moments, Asch could let himself smile, admire, be something other than the cold, steel-hardened soldier Van had molded him into. He could brush his lips against Luke's temple, press his face into his hair, hold him simply for the warmth. It was comforting, and sometimes, Asch thought that it was the only thing keeping him from curling up and passing on.
Also, when Luke was asleep, Asch didn't have to see that defeated, self-loathing look in his eyes. Why in the world the stupid replica thought he was so worthless was beyond him; hell, even he was constantly telling him to have more confidence in himself, and Asch had more reason than anyone to believe that Luke truly was useless.
It was almost infuriating enough to debate leaving him behind for good...if Asch didn't know that at this point, it could very well destroy him. He was terrified of being abandoned, and Asch was terrified of being forgotten, replaced or uneeded, so they made a pretty needy and pathetic pair.
...Although in his opinion, he was the far less pathetic half of it.
Luke chose that moment to sigh and roll over onto his side, blinking sleepily at Asch with dark eyes. "...Are you still up?" he whispered.
"Good guess," Asch answered dryly, rolling his eyes.
Luke frowned, and Asch almost kissed him, he was so cute. "Why are you so cranky?" Uncute.
"I just don't have the patience to deal with stupid questions from stupid replicas," Asch snapped back, but much to his surprise, Luke -instead of shouting in retaliation or sulking- only snorted, closing his eyes and snuggling against the ex-god general.
"Whatever."
The silence between them, while not awkward, was so heavy with unspoken challenges, confessions, words, fears and thoughts that Asch felt he would go mad with the anticipation. As reluctant as he was to break down and ask first, it was apparent that Luke was not at all interested in talking, so therefore it was up to the original to jump start a conversation that had all the potential of ending disasterously. "...Luke."
The redhead looked up at that; Asch used his name only when he wanted his attention. "Yeah?"
Shocking even himself, Asch lifted a gentle hand and brushed Luke's bangs from his forehead, delving into those eyes he despised so much (because of the hopelessness that mirrored his own, because of the quiet adoration he didn't deserve) and only staring, silent, stroking Luke's forehead.
The reverent moment was broken when Luke whispered, sadly, "I'm sorry."
Almost at once, anger and exasperation flared within Asch and he threw an arm out to fling the covers from himself, climbing out of bed. A hand closed around his wrist, insistant, and gave a gentle tug back to the bed. "Not because of the usual." That made him pause.
"Then why?"
"Because no matter what I do, I can't take away that horrible look in your eyes."
Asch sucked in a breath; hearing his own deepest regret, said aloud, in his own voice to boot, was almost enough to make it real. "...Luke..."
"And I know it's the same thing you see in mine, the same look that makes you avoid me whenever I try to look at you. And I want to tell you that...it's enough, knowing that you feel the same way, and understand what I mean when I say that I'm nervous." The fingers tightened, almost to the point of becoming painful, and Asch could feel Luke's tremors in his own arm.
"...That's now how it's supposed to work. You're going to stay."
"I don't think so." Luke shook his head, and Asch felt a surge of anger at his defeatist attitude.
"What's wrong with you?! Do you want to die?!"
Luke's voice was hushed, but still struck Asch like a slap to the face. "You seem pretty ready to."
It took a moment for Asch to collect his thoughts and form an excuse that didn't ring pitiful in his mind. "I've resigned myself, replica, and that's just how it is."
"You're giving up awfully easy. Doesn't Kimlasca matter to you? Don't Mother and Father, and Natalia?" Luke, knowing fully aware the tongue-lashing he could receive for treading on forbidden topic ground, ventured further. "Don't I?"
"Dreck," and Luke knew Asch was mad when he adopted that positively sub-zero tone, "you know very well my stance on all those things, and if you made me repeat myself, I will get dressed and leave right now."
It was a very real threat that Asch had no problem upholding as he'd actually done it twice before, but Luke pushed aside his trepidation; this was important. "I just don't get why you're allowed to be so willingly suicidal, but I say one word about it and you just blow up or shut down. It's annoying."
"Not as annoying as your constant nagging."
Luke sighed. "If you'd just come home-"
Asch wrenched his wrist from Luke's grip to throw his hands in the air. "And there's the topic of the conversation, rearing its ugly head! I'm not going home, dreck and that's final! You ask me about it again and I'm leaving for good!"
"I'm not asking, I'm telling you to go back home already!"
"That isn't my home!"
"Yes it is! Mother and Father miss you! Why won't you go back?!"
"Why the hell would I go back and let them watch their son die?!" Asch's breathing came in quick gasps, and he took the newfound silence resulting from Luke's shock to elaborate. "You think that would make them happy?! They have you and they're satisfied with it, so let's just leave it at that!" Quickly gathering his clothes, Asch began to dress himself before a pair of arms wound themselves tightly around his waist and tugged him back to sit on the bed. "Let me go, dreck!"
Luke pressed his face against Asch's back, muttering. "You aren't going to die."
"You don't know a damn thing."
"I'll fix you." Luke was shaking again, and lighting desperate, pleading kisses along Asch's spine. "I'll fix you. I promise. You'll be okay."
Asch sat, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed as Luke clung to him with his forehead to his back, offering his feeble reassurances. It was strange, that he for once he wasn't angry, or sad, or hurt or alone or so very tired and cold, because of the warm hands on his stomach and the lips against his back. And he thought that maybe if Luke would stay there, with him, then perhaps it wasn't so hopeless, perhaps he could be fixed.
Maybe he really was just broken after all.
seki_yumizu drew delicious, gorgeous FANART HOMG!!!!
