Viewfinder fic: Re-learning how to be gentle [Asami/Akihito]
Title: Re-learning how to be gentle
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Viewfinder
Characters/Pairing: Asmai/Akihito
Disclaimer: Viewfinder belongs to Ayano Yamane
Spoilers: Post Naked Truth 18
Summery: A little bit of early morning fluff
Not beta'd
Re-learning how to be gentle
He was cold. There was a slight bite to the early morning air and the chilled breeze from an open window sent flecks of gooseflesh down his exposed leg. There was a soft snuffling from beside him, the quiet sleep-whispers of someone caught in a bad dream and Asami wondered if it was this noise and not the cold that had woken him. In the greyish half-light he could just about make out the small form of Takaba huddled as he was in the middle of the too spacious bed, the sleek satin bed sheets wrapped tight around him - pulled all the way to his chin and clasped in trembling hands. Takaba’s breath came in gasps and underneath those short sounds Asami could almost hear a soft litany of “no, no, no, no, no.” Takaba clutched the smooth fabric of the bed sheets tighter and buried himself deeper into their warmth.
Asami frowned at the new rush of cold that swept over the lower half of his body as the sheet was pulled away from him and towards Takaba. Slowly, carefully he reached out to pull the covers back, his fingers gently brushing Takaba’s forehead - the only part of the boy visible among the mounds of cloth. Takaba’s skin was still flush with the fever induced by his gunshot wound and guilt stilled Asami’s hand before he could complete the action of stealing back the bed covers. Instead, Asami lightly rested his hand on Takaba’s head, gently stroking the feather soft hair. At Asami’s touch Takaba’s breathing eased, softened and evened out. With an all but inaudible sigh he loosed the death grip he had on the bed sheets and relaxed into a deep but peaceful slumber. Still Asami stroked the boys’ hair in a slow but affectionate rhythm, twirling the silken strands loosely around his fingers.
As dawn invaded on them, casting bright shafts of light through the slits in the curtains, Takaba Akihito slept on. And silently, almost like a sentry, Asami watched.
FIN
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Viewfinder
Characters/Pairing: Asmai/Akihito
Disclaimer: Viewfinder belongs to Ayano Yamane
Spoilers: Post Naked Truth 18
Summery: A little bit of early morning fluff
Not beta'd
Re-learning how to be gentle
He was cold. There was a slight bite to the early morning air and the chilled breeze from an open window sent flecks of gooseflesh down his exposed leg. There was a soft snuffling from beside him, the quiet sleep-whispers of someone caught in a bad dream and Asami wondered if it was this noise and not the cold that had woken him. In the greyish half-light he could just about make out the small form of Takaba huddled as he was in the middle of the too spacious bed, the sleek satin bed sheets wrapped tight around him - pulled all the way to his chin and clasped in trembling hands. Takaba’s breath came in gasps and underneath those short sounds Asami could almost hear a soft litany of “no, no, no, no, no.” Takaba clutched the smooth fabric of the bed sheets tighter and buried himself deeper into their warmth.
Asami frowned at the new rush of cold that swept over the lower half of his body as the sheet was pulled away from him and towards Takaba. Slowly, carefully he reached out to pull the covers back, his fingers gently brushing Takaba’s forehead - the only part of the boy visible among the mounds of cloth. Takaba’s skin was still flush with the fever induced by his gunshot wound and guilt stilled Asami’s hand before he could complete the action of stealing back the bed covers. Instead, Asami lightly rested his hand on Takaba’s head, gently stroking the feather soft hair. At Asami’s touch Takaba’s breathing eased, softened and evened out. With an all but inaudible sigh he loosed the death grip he had on the bed sheets and relaxed into a deep but peaceful slumber. Still Asami stroked the boys’ hair in a slow but affectionate rhythm, twirling the silken strands loosely around his fingers.
As dawn invaded on them, casting bright shafts of light through the slits in the curtains, Takaba Akihito slept on. And silently, almost like a sentry, Asami watched.
FIN