[IC Fic] Homecoming
Posted on this journal for posterity. NSFW, immediate postcamp.
****
The road changed so gradually that he was hardly aware of it. Sound began as a murmur and rose as he walked to a roar; the darkness around him slowly lightened, taking on pale shape as buildings. Beneath his feet, silver dulled to grey concrete, and ghostly images swarmed around him, gaining solidity with every step.
Some part of Francescu's mind noticed, and was grateful. The Lady's road melded with its destination seamlessly, permitting senses accustomed to camp's relative quiet time to adjust to the chaos of a modern city. Most of his thoughts, however, were bent on his destination, growing ever more real around him.
A final step, and the last trace of silver was gone from beneath his feet. Glancing back, he saw nothing remaining of the path he had walked to come here. Surrounded by people who stared at him like some sort of devil, in a world far different from the one in which he'd been born, he smiled quietly to himself and continued on.
Ahead of him, not far down the street, was a shop, its windows bright with flowers in the setting sun. The sorcerer quickened his steps, his destination in sight. He reached the door of the shop just as an achingly familiar dark-haired figure stepped out of it, glancing warily around for patrons, a broom held loosely in one hand. Ken turned as if to return to the shop, then froze, his eyes locked on Francescu, his lips silently shaping the other boy's name.
Francescu found that he could not trust himself to speak. Instead, he smiled, and watched an answering grin grow on Ken's face as he approached. A final step and he wrapped Ken in a tight, hard hug. Ken's arms wound around his waist, and for a long moment there was nothing in the world that mattered but the warmth of the body pressed against his.
“Hey,” Ken murmured, voice barely a whisper. “You made it.”
“I promised I would.”
“I knew you would.” Ken tilted his head, eyes warm, and Francescu leaned closer to kiss him. He had intended it to be gentle, but Ken's lips parted beneath his, arms tightening around him and body pressing close, and both were breathing hard when they reluctantly pulled apart.
“I'm guessing it was longer for you than it was for me, huh?” Ken's mouth curved in a crooked smile.
“Mm. Seven months.”
Francescu felt the other man's arms tighten around him. “A lot longer... it's only been a few weeks here. You all right?”
“I am now.” The sorcerer stole another kiss, quick and light. “I will tell you of it later; we have time.”
“Okay. The boys found a new video game, so they're pretty distracted...we should have some time to catch up.”
“We can reacquaint ourselves properly, then.” Francescu smiled wickedly, the heat in his voice leaving no doubt as to his meaning, and Ken blushed and nudged him in the ribs.
“Come on. Aya went out, I'll introduce you two tomorrow.”
The sorcerer let Ken lead him through the shop, guiding him with an arm around his waist. Both were reluctant to leave contact with each other, and the interior of the Koneko passed by in a blur. Ken tugged him up a set of stairs, past a door from which laughter and electronic music could be heard, through a second door which he closed behind them. Francescu registered a brief impression of posters on the walls, the clutter expected of a young male occupant; but his attention was focused on Ken, twisting in his arms and tilting his head up.
“Proper reacquaintance, huh?” There was a bright edge of laughter in the assassin's voice. “You find that in a book?”
“Not this.” Francescu's lips curved in a smile. “Some things are best learned through experience.”
Ken wound an arm around the sorcerer's neck, his voice warm and fond. “Gonna show off for me?”
“Only for you.” Francescu leaned down, meeting Ken halfway as the shorter boy rose to kiss him.
“I could get used to that.” The words were breathed into Francescu's mouth, and answered by a soft, wordless sound of need. The sorcerer slid his hands under Ken's shirt, savoring the touch of his skin, tracing the lines of old scars.
Ken made an impatient sound and pulled back long enough to shrug out of his shirt entirely, arching his back off the wall and into Francescu's body. He slid a knee between Francescu's legs, his arousal evident through his jeans as he pressed against the sorcerer's groin. Francescu shifted his hips, grinding into the other boy as their breathing grew ragged.
The assassin pulled back with a crooked smile, catching his breath, and tugged at Francescu's shirt. “Too much clothing.”
“For us both, I think,” Francescu murmured. He stepped back reluctantly and stripped off his shirt, dropping it to the floor. His belt eluded him for a moment, hands clumsy with haste and distraction, and Ken stepped forward to work it loose with a grin. A moment of cooperative effort had the stubborn clasp undone, and Francescu let his slacks fall to the floor.
The heat in Ken's eyes spoke for him as he skinned quickly out of his jeans, and he reached for Francescu, tugging his head down. Francescu parted his lips with a moan, hips rocking against Ken's, desperate for contact and friction. Somehow, they managed to half-fall onto the bed, legs tangling as they moved against each other in a quickening rhythm. Ken's hand slid between their bodies, moving in slow counterpoint as he murmured his lover's name like a benediction.
Francescu bit his lip as Ken curled his hand around them both, callused fingers sending sparks of pleasure through him and dragging a moan from his throat. Ken leaned forward to nip at his ear and he rocked into the assassin's hand, almost whimpering with need, forcing himself to hold off orgasm as long as he could. His breath came in ragged pants, and as he kissed the hollow of Ken's throat he could feel the other boy's pulse racing.
“God, keep doing that and I'm gonna...” Ken's voice was half a whine, and Francescu's will broke. He arched against the other boy's body, muscles tensing, kissing him hard to stifle a wordless cry of pleasure. Ken clutched at him with arms and legs, frantically bucking against Francescu in the throes of his own orgasm, gasping small, desperate sounds into the taller boy's mouth.
Afterward, they lay entwined, Ken's head pillowed on Francescu's shoulder, both reluctant to move. Francescu turned his head to kiss the corner of Ken's mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Ken rolled to straddle the other boy's hips, leaning down to kiss him more thoroughly. “Do that thing. The one that Swift did.”
Francescu smiled against Ken's mouth and let his mind open, gently reaching out for the other boy's thoughts. He touched love, profound relief, comfort, hope for the future, and let his own love/comfort/relief flow through the link in reply. A thread of desire wove through the contact, fed and amplified by their awareness of each other's thoughts, and both boys found themselves responding physically.
Ken pulled back, wrinkling his nose, and rolled off the bed to his feet. “If we keep going, we're never gonna get out of bed.” He caught Francescu's wrist and tugged. “Come on. Shower.”
“Wise advice.” Francescu stood and slid an arm around Ken's waist. The other boy grinned up at him.
“I've got a few good ideas now and then. Maybe I'll have another one while we're in there.”
Some time later, wrapped in towels, they lay entangled on Ken's bed, hair and bodies damp. Ken idly ran fingers through Francescu's hair and the taller boy leaned into the touch, smiling. The assassin shifted against him, arranging himself more comfortably against Francescu's body and winding an arm possessively across his chest.
“I want to hear what happened after I left, later. The boys will, too, so you might as well save it.”
“All right.” Francescu wrapped an arm around the other boy's shoulders. “Pell left me a gift for you, as well.”
“Later. We've got time.” Ken's eyes were half-closed, his voice blurred with languor. “Stay like this a while?”
“As long as you wish, love.”
“Don't say stuff like that. We might never get up.”
Francescu laughed quietly, cupping Ken's cheek with one hand. “I cannot say the idea does not appeal.”
“We'll have to eventually.”
“Mm, true. But not for some time.”
“That sounds about right.” Ken rested his head on his lover's shoulder, and silence reigned for a long moment. “I'm glad you came.”
“As am I. Very much so.”
“Good.” Ken smiled against the skin of Francescu's neck, and the sorcerer felt the last of the stress and heartache of the last seven months finally fade away. Here in Ken's arms, he had come home.
****
The road changed so gradually that he was hardly aware of it. Sound began as a murmur and rose as he walked to a roar; the darkness around him slowly lightened, taking on pale shape as buildings. Beneath his feet, silver dulled to grey concrete, and ghostly images swarmed around him, gaining solidity with every step.
Some part of Francescu's mind noticed, and was grateful. The Lady's road melded with its destination seamlessly, permitting senses accustomed to camp's relative quiet time to adjust to the chaos of a modern city. Most of his thoughts, however, were bent on his destination, growing ever more real around him.
A final step, and the last trace of silver was gone from beneath his feet. Glancing back, he saw nothing remaining of the path he had walked to come here. Surrounded by people who stared at him like some sort of devil, in a world far different from the one in which he'd been born, he smiled quietly to himself and continued on.
Ahead of him, not far down the street, was a shop, its windows bright with flowers in the setting sun. The sorcerer quickened his steps, his destination in sight. He reached the door of the shop just as an achingly familiar dark-haired figure stepped out of it, glancing warily around for patrons, a broom held loosely in one hand. Ken turned as if to return to the shop, then froze, his eyes locked on Francescu, his lips silently shaping the other boy's name.
Francescu found that he could not trust himself to speak. Instead, he smiled, and watched an answering grin grow on Ken's face as he approached. A final step and he wrapped Ken in a tight, hard hug. Ken's arms wound around his waist, and for a long moment there was nothing in the world that mattered but the warmth of the body pressed against his.
“Hey,” Ken murmured, voice barely a whisper. “You made it.”
“I promised I would.”
“I knew you would.” Ken tilted his head, eyes warm, and Francescu leaned closer to kiss him. He had intended it to be gentle, but Ken's lips parted beneath his, arms tightening around him and body pressing close, and both were breathing hard when they reluctantly pulled apart.
“I'm guessing it was longer for you than it was for me, huh?” Ken's mouth curved in a crooked smile.
“Mm. Seven months.”
Francescu felt the other man's arms tighten around him. “A lot longer... it's only been a few weeks here. You all right?”
“I am now.” The sorcerer stole another kiss, quick and light. “I will tell you of it later; we have time.”
“Okay. The boys found a new video game, so they're pretty distracted...we should have some time to catch up.”
“We can reacquaint ourselves properly, then.” Francescu smiled wickedly, the heat in his voice leaving no doubt as to his meaning, and Ken blushed and nudged him in the ribs.
“Come on. Aya went out, I'll introduce you two tomorrow.”
The sorcerer let Ken lead him through the shop, guiding him with an arm around his waist. Both were reluctant to leave contact with each other, and the interior of the Koneko passed by in a blur. Ken tugged him up a set of stairs, past a door from which laughter and electronic music could be heard, through a second door which he closed behind them. Francescu registered a brief impression of posters on the walls, the clutter expected of a young male occupant; but his attention was focused on Ken, twisting in his arms and tilting his head up.
“Proper reacquaintance, huh?” There was a bright edge of laughter in the assassin's voice. “You find that in a book?”
“Not this.” Francescu's lips curved in a smile. “Some things are best learned through experience.”
Ken wound an arm around the sorcerer's neck, his voice warm and fond. “Gonna show off for me?”
“Only for you.” Francescu leaned down, meeting Ken halfway as the shorter boy rose to kiss him.
“I could get used to that.” The words were breathed into Francescu's mouth, and answered by a soft, wordless sound of need. The sorcerer slid his hands under Ken's shirt, savoring the touch of his skin, tracing the lines of old scars.
Ken made an impatient sound and pulled back long enough to shrug out of his shirt entirely, arching his back off the wall and into Francescu's body. He slid a knee between Francescu's legs, his arousal evident through his jeans as he pressed against the sorcerer's groin. Francescu shifted his hips, grinding into the other boy as their breathing grew ragged.
The assassin pulled back with a crooked smile, catching his breath, and tugged at Francescu's shirt. “Too much clothing.”
“For us both, I think,” Francescu murmured. He stepped back reluctantly and stripped off his shirt, dropping it to the floor. His belt eluded him for a moment, hands clumsy with haste and distraction, and Ken stepped forward to work it loose with a grin. A moment of cooperative effort had the stubborn clasp undone, and Francescu let his slacks fall to the floor.
The heat in Ken's eyes spoke for him as he skinned quickly out of his jeans, and he reached for Francescu, tugging his head down. Francescu parted his lips with a moan, hips rocking against Ken's, desperate for contact and friction. Somehow, they managed to half-fall onto the bed, legs tangling as they moved against each other in a quickening rhythm. Ken's hand slid between their bodies, moving in slow counterpoint as he murmured his lover's name like a benediction.
Francescu bit his lip as Ken curled his hand around them both, callused fingers sending sparks of pleasure through him and dragging a moan from his throat. Ken leaned forward to nip at his ear and he rocked into the assassin's hand, almost whimpering with need, forcing himself to hold off orgasm as long as he could. His breath came in ragged pants, and as he kissed the hollow of Ken's throat he could feel the other boy's pulse racing.
“God, keep doing that and I'm gonna...” Ken's voice was half a whine, and Francescu's will broke. He arched against the other boy's body, muscles tensing, kissing him hard to stifle a wordless cry of pleasure. Ken clutched at him with arms and legs, frantically bucking against Francescu in the throes of his own orgasm, gasping small, desperate sounds into the taller boy's mouth.
Afterward, they lay entwined, Ken's head pillowed on Francescu's shoulder, both reluctant to move. Francescu turned his head to kiss the corner of Ken's mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Ken rolled to straddle the other boy's hips, leaning down to kiss him more thoroughly. “Do that thing. The one that Swift did.”
Francescu smiled against Ken's mouth and let his mind open, gently reaching out for the other boy's thoughts. He touched love, profound relief, comfort, hope for the future, and let his own love/comfort/relief flow through the link in reply. A thread of desire wove through the contact, fed and amplified by their awareness of each other's thoughts, and both boys found themselves responding physically.
Ken pulled back, wrinkling his nose, and rolled off the bed to his feet. “If we keep going, we're never gonna get out of bed.” He caught Francescu's wrist and tugged. “Come on. Shower.”
“Wise advice.” Francescu stood and slid an arm around Ken's waist. The other boy grinned up at him.
“I've got a few good ideas now and then. Maybe I'll have another one while we're in there.”
Some time later, wrapped in towels, they lay entangled on Ken's bed, hair and bodies damp. Ken idly ran fingers through Francescu's hair and the taller boy leaned into the touch, smiling. The assassin shifted against him, arranging himself more comfortably against Francescu's body and winding an arm possessively across his chest.
“I want to hear what happened after I left, later. The boys will, too, so you might as well save it.”
“All right.” Francescu wrapped an arm around the other boy's shoulders. “Pell left me a gift for you, as well.”
“Later. We've got time.” Ken's eyes were half-closed, his voice blurred with languor. “Stay like this a while?”
“As long as you wish, love.”
“Don't say stuff like that. We might never get up.”
Francescu laughed quietly, cupping Ken's cheek with one hand. “I cannot say the idea does not appeal.”
“We'll have to eventually.”
“Mm, true. But not for some time.”
“That sounds about right.” Ken rested his head on his lover's shoulder, and silence reigned for a long moment. “I'm glad you came.”
“As am I. Very much so.”
“Good.” Ken smiled against the skin of Francescu's neck, and the sorcerer felt the last of the stress and heartache of the last seven months finally fade away. Here in Ken's arms, he had come home.