Push it away but it all comes back again
Stoooooooooole that 50 sentences thing from patchouli because apparently I need more ways to procrastinate. Also being shameless and writing for my Discoship hahaha /loser
001. touch.
His touch has never been gentle, and Reno's glad for that in some horrifically messed up way that he'd rather not be aware of - finding something far more honest than he's ever experienced in the bruises he discovers the next morning.
002. taste.
It's not normal, he notes after a little while - something acrid in the aftertaste - and even though he tells himself it's just the cigarettes, there's a morbid part of his mind that can't help but wonder if that's what it's like to kiss a dead man.
003. smell.
The scent was unmistakable, over fifteen years of habit had it ingrained firmly in his memory; but even though he'd told himself he'd be calm about it, he couldn't manage more than an accusatory howl when he found the other man smoking on the fire escape.
004. sight.
He could tell that he was probably considered intimidating where he came from, but the first time Reno had seen him, he'd just felt like kicking him in the face.
005. sound.
It was the way his name sounded - barely audible as it rode on the back of a hitched breath - that made his ego swell a little every time.
006. yesterday.
He wondered idly if maybe it was a bad thing that they didn't know much about eachother's pasts, but there were just some things that nobody needed to know but himself.
007. today.
He's gotten used to living in the present, maybe it helps him cope with the uncertainty of the future.
008. tomorrow.
He always made the mistake of expecting him to still be there tomorrow; thankfully he had yet to be penalised for it.
009. weeks.
Every week he spent in this hellhole was a week too long - but there were some things that made the headaches worth it.
010. months.
This, more than anything, had changed him a lot in such a short time; he hated it, if he was honest, but he'd never say it.
011. years.
He didn't like to think that far into the future, because he knew this'd be done and gone a few years from now - and he knew it made him selfish for being relieved that he probably wouldn't even remember when he got back home.
012. alone.
It wasn't going to last and he'd known that - tried to remind himself of this through shuddering breaths and hair pulled taut while he tried to still the thundering noise of his heart pounding in his ears; in an hour he'd be fine, but right now he was at a loss as to how to cope.
013. together.
"I don't just stick around for your looks, you know," it's funny how an offhand comment like that could be so reassuring.
014. slow.
Apparently the phrase, "slow the fuck down," lost all meaning when Kakihara was allowed to drive.
015. fast.
He had the better reflexes and the more agile body out of the two of them - maybe that was why he never really got pissed off when a certain someone decided it was a good idea to throw things at his head.
016. hot.
It was kind of amazing how the concept of a cold shower seemed to fail so epically every time, no matter why he'd needed one in the first place.
017. cold.
"You're cold," it was an invitation as much as a statement, and that ratty old bed had never seemed so inviting before.
018. beginning.
He still remembers that first trip to the hospital, he'd been the first person to pick up on his phobia in years; that fact still bugged the hell out of Reno sometimes.
019. end.
They didn't talk about what would happen when the inevitable happened; there wasn't a single realistic outcome that didn't tear them both up inside.
020. laughter.
So maybe he shouldn't have laughed at Kakihara getting bitten, but his now-bloody nose didn't change the fact that it had been hilarious.
021. misery.
Sometimes he just needed time alone to straighten out his thoughts, but having someone to laze about in bed with when he was feeling like shit wasn't exactly bad either.
022. hope.
He'd always said he didn't believe in hope, but now he could sometimes understand why other people did.
023. despair.
So maybe he'd underestimated Kakihara's reaction to a tear in his shirt.
024. finger.
Honestly he hadn't been expecting to get poked in the eye over something as trivial as refusing to sleep.
025. toe.
Soon enough, he discovered that even kicking the lug in his sleep couldn't wake him up sometimes.
026. naughty.
Somehow, after every sordid or insane thing they'd done guiltlessly, he managed to feel bad about breaking a chair in someone else's apartment.
027. nice.
They weren't nice guys, and that was why they probably fit so well together, but he could be incredibly considerate when he wanted to be.
028. yes.
There's a lot of things he shouldn't have agreed to or let himself do, but he can't imagine not having made those choices anymore.
029. no.
There isn't much they share strongly opposing opinions on, but everytime Kakihara suggests eating his fish, Reno wonders if pushing him out the window is really a bad idea.
030. walk.
He generally went on walks to avoid pointless arguments; this time he started to wonder when they'd become so domestic.
031. run.
Reno barks a laugh at the silent challenge and when he replies his tone is practically a purr as he teases, "try to keep up."
032. create.
He looked up from where he'd been sat working on the suspension and tapped the engine with a soft grin, "I helped build that, I know what I'm doing."
033. destroy.
Explosions were an art the Turk was well versed in, so it only made sense that sooner or later he'd give in and show off.
034. basic.
Sometimes, when the insomnia hit and he was awake at obscene o'clock for the millionth time, he'd find himself musing on how much had come from a simple desire to feed the most basic urges.
035. complicated.
They weren't really all that complicated at all, but Reno's general unwillingness to apply labels to things seemed to confuse everyone regardless.
036. messy.
Reno had always been an inherently messy person, so he really had no idea how he'd ended up tidying things up again.
037. immaculate.
It was really frustrating how Reno decided to gloss over the fun parts of sharing a shower to make Kakihara scrub that spot on his back he could never get to.
038. none.
Running out of cigarettes was always one of the worst things that happened here, honestly he had no idea how to feel about the fact that Kakihara's always seemed to last longer than his.
039. many.
Too many sleepless nights gave Reno far too much time to think; more often than not, all he'd find was doubts that no one else ever needed to know about.
040. birth.
It hadn't been until months later, when he found a worn and dog-eared atlas in one of the old apartments, that Reno had understood the joke about naming their imaginary daughter, 'Vegas.'
041. death.
He still hasn't gotten over it completely, the fact is like a constant slap in the face whenever Reno lets himself acknowledge it, but he's stopped himself from shrinking away when he touches the scar; and that's good enough for now.
042. marriage.
He's never had any intention to get married or anything of the sort, but every now and then he has a moment of clarity where he realises he's practically fallen into it anyway.
043. fixed.
He could fix a lot of things - engines, TVs, doors - but it was a damn shame this talent didn't extend to people.
044. broken.
He was far from okay, that was the unfortunate truth of the circumstances, but this made it a little easier to feel more like himself.
045. breakfast.
He'd lost the concept of breakfast a long time ago, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate it when a can of tinned fruit was shoved at him after he rolled out of bed.
046. lunch.
"I know you need to watch your figure," came the teasing, but as soon as he opened his mouth to shoot a remark back, he was promptly shut up with a spoon of lord-knows-how-old SpaghettiOs.
047. dinner.
He was a good cook - had managed more than a few successful dates that way - but even with their limited resources, he (almost) always enjoyed the food better when Kakihara made it.
048. rain.
He's always been fond of extremes of weather, (except when he has to pilot, that is,) but there's something about the feeling of someone else's fingers de-tangling his rain-soaked hair that he likes more than the rain itself.
049. sun.
"You've got freckles," and a hard slap on the shoulder was the only greeting he received upon climbing through the window - as per usual for most of their exchanges, this was taken as an invite to throw the first punch.
050. mine.
He's never been a possessive man, (even before Discedo, he'd been far too easygoing and far too aware of the brevity of life to truly indulge in the concept,) but in their waking hours he finds himself much too attached to the idea that this is his and no idea what to do about it.
HNNNNNGH THAT TOOK ME OVER SEVEN HOURS /DIES
augh I've had this stupid Kate VERSUS!?!?!?!?!? Bullseye plotbunny in my head all day that won't go away aaaaugh.
001. touch.
His touch has never been gentle, and Reno's glad for that in some horrifically messed up way that he'd rather not be aware of - finding something far more honest than he's ever experienced in the bruises he discovers the next morning.
002. taste.
It's not normal, he notes after a little while - something acrid in the aftertaste - and even though he tells himself it's just the cigarettes, there's a morbid part of his mind that can't help but wonder if that's what it's like to kiss a dead man.
003. smell.
The scent was unmistakable, over fifteen years of habit had it ingrained firmly in his memory; but even though he'd told himself he'd be calm about it, he couldn't manage more than an accusatory howl when he found the other man smoking on the fire escape.
004. sight.
He could tell that he was probably considered intimidating where he came from, but the first time Reno had seen him, he'd just felt like kicking him in the face.
005. sound.
It was the way his name sounded - barely audible as it rode on the back of a hitched breath - that made his ego swell a little every time.
006. yesterday.
He wondered idly if maybe it was a bad thing that they didn't know much about eachother's pasts, but there were just some things that nobody needed to know but himself.
007. today.
He's gotten used to living in the present, maybe it helps him cope with the uncertainty of the future.
008. tomorrow.
He always made the mistake of expecting him to still be there tomorrow; thankfully he had yet to be penalised for it.
009. weeks.
Every week he spent in this hellhole was a week too long - but there were some things that made the headaches worth it.
010. months.
This, more than anything, had changed him a lot in such a short time; he hated it, if he was honest, but he'd never say it.
011. years.
He didn't like to think that far into the future, because he knew this'd be done and gone a few years from now - and he knew it made him selfish for being relieved that he probably wouldn't even remember when he got back home.
012. alone.
It wasn't going to last and he'd known that - tried to remind himself of this through shuddering breaths and hair pulled taut while he tried to still the thundering noise of his heart pounding in his ears; in an hour he'd be fine, but right now he was at a loss as to how to cope.
013. together.
"I don't just stick around for your looks, you know," it's funny how an offhand comment like that could be so reassuring.
014. slow.
Apparently the phrase, "slow the fuck down," lost all meaning when Kakihara was allowed to drive.
015. fast.
He had the better reflexes and the more agile body out of the two of them - maybe that was why he never really got pissed off when a certain someone decided it was a good idea to throw things at his head.
016. hot.
It was kind of amazing how the concept of a cold shower seemed to fail so epically every time, no matter why he'd needed one in the first place.
017. cold.
"You're cold," it was an invitation as much as a statement, and that ratty old bed had never seemed so inviting before.
018. beginning.
He still remembers that first trip to the hospital, he'd been the first person to pick up on his phobia in years; that fact still bugged the hell out of Reno sometimes.
019. end.
They didn't talk about what would happen when the inevitable happened; there wasn't a single realistic outcome that didn't tear them both up inside.
020. laughter.
So maybe he shouldn't have laughed at Kakihara getting bitten, but his now-bloody nose didn't change the fact that it had been hilarious.
021. misery.
Sometimes he just needed time alone to straighten out his thoughts, but having someone to laze about in bed with when he was feeling like shit wasn't exactly bad either.
022. hope.
He'd always said he didn't believe in hope, but now he could sometimes understand why other people did.
023. despair.
So maybe he'd underestimated Kakihara's reaction to a tear in his shirt.
024. finger.
Honestly he hadn't been expecting to get poked in the eye over something as trivial as refusing to sleep.
025. toe.
Soon enough, he discovered that even kicking the lug in his sleep couldn't wake him up sometimes.
026. naughty.
Somehow, after every sordid or insane thing they'd done guiltlessly, he managed to feel bad about breaking a chair in someone else's apartment.
027. nice.
They weren't nice guys, and that was why they probably fit so well together, but he could be incredibly considerate when he wanted to be.
028. yes.
There's a lot of things he shouldn't have agreed to or let himself do, but he can't imagine not having made those choices anymore.
029. no.
There isn't much they share strongly opposing opinions on, but everytime Kakihara suggests eating his fish, Reno wonders if pushing him out the window is really a bad idea.
030. walk.
He generally went on walks to avoid pointless arguments; this time he started to wonder when they'd become so domestic.
031. run.
Reno barks a laugh at the silent challenge and when he replies his tone is practically a purr as he teases, "try to keep up."
032. create.
He looked up from where he'd been sat working on the suspension and tapped the engine with a soft grin, "I helped build that, I know what I'm doing."
033. destroy.
Explosions were an art the Turk was well versed in, so it only made sense that sooner or later he'd give in and show off.
034. basic.
Sometimes, when the insomnia hit and he was awake at obscene o'clock for the millionth time, he'd find himself musing on how much had come from a simple desire to feed the most basic urges.
035. complicated.
They weren't really all that complicated at all, but Reno's general unwillingness to apply labels to things seemed to confuse everyone regardless.
036. messy.
Reno had always been an inherently messy person, so he really had no idea how he'd ended up tidying things up again.
037. immaculate.
It was really frustrating how Reno decided to gloss over the fun parts of sharing a shower to make Kakihara scrub that spot on his back he could never get to.
038. none.
Running out of cigarettes was always one of the worst things that happened here, honestly he had no idea how to feel about the fact that Kakihara's always seemed to last longer than his.
039. many.
Too many sleepless nights gave Reno far too much time to think; more often than not, all he'd find was doubts that no one else ever needed to know about.
040. birth.
It hadn't been until months later, when he found a worn and dog-eared atlas in one of the old apartments, that Reno had understood the joke about naming their imaginary daughter, 'Vegas.'
041. death.
He still hasn't gotten over it completely, the fact is like a constant slap in the face whenever Reno lets himself acknowledge it, but he's stopped himself from shrinking away when he touches the scar; and that's good enough for now.
042. marriage.
He's never had any intention to get married or anything of the sort, but every now and then he has a moment of clarity where he realises he's practically fallen into it anyway.
043. fixed.
He could fix a lot of things - engines, TVs, doors - but it was a damn shame this talent didn't extend to people.
044. broken.
He was far from okay, that was the unfortunate truth of the circumstances, but this made it a little easier to feel more like himself.
045. breakfast.
He'd lost the concept of breakfast a long time ago, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate it when a can of tinned fruit was shoved at him after he rolled out of bed.
046. lunch.
"I know you need to watch your figure," came the teasing, but as soon as he opened his mouth to shoot a remark back, he was promptly shut up with a spoon of lord-knows-how-old SpaghettiOs.
047. dinner.
He was a good cook - had managed more than a few successful dates that way - but even with their limited resources, he (almost) always enjoyed the food better when Kakihara made it.
048. rain.
He's always been fond of extremes of weather, (except when he has to pilot, that is,) but there's something about the feeling of someone else's fingers de-tangling his rain-soaked hair that he likes more than the rain itself.
049. sun.
"You've got freckles," and a hard slap on the shoulder was the only greeting he received upon climbing through the window - as per usual for most of their exchanges, this was taken as an invite to throw the first punch.
050. mine.
He's never been a possessive man, (even before Discedo, he'd been far too easygoing and far too aware of the brevity of life to truly indulge in the concept,) but in their waking hours he finds himself much too attached to the idea that this is his and no idea what to do about it.
HNNNNNGH THAT TOOK ME OVER SEVEN HOURS /DIES
augh I've had this stupid Kate VERSUS!?!?!?!?!? Bullseye plotbunny in my head all day that won't go away aaaaugh.