stop yourself from thinking

[drainedpaladin]

Who: Doumeki and Watanuki
When: midday, November 1, after the night of their re-arrival in Siren's Port
Where: Baseball Diamond to their apartment
Summary: Doumeki and Watanuki are figuring out that they're not exactly where they're used to being, and, having been informed that they own an apartment, they're going to go check it out. Only to

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[successoroftime]

[his face burned as the implications of that sunk in, and he slowly covered his mouth with a shaking hand as the raw ache in his chest burst back in full force.

It wasn't just anxiety that he felt, or loss at him not remembering what was important. It was a slow, aching realization that followed his initial shock, and his mind spun in a haze as he struggled yet again to find ground.

This was more than the closeness he had seen for himself when he looked through the apartment -- their apartment. It was a life shared in more ways than he had ever expected since Doumeki had knocked sense into him about him not moving away. It was the kind of closeness that he almost had resigned himself to not having, afraid as he was that being involved this way with someone else, beyond the loyalty that Doumeki already had for him, would be limiting for his partner, trapped as he was in the shop.

And yet...

Yet. It was a warm kind of ache, the kind that enveloped him and warred with the strangeness of knowing that he, who probably didn't deserve this, was able to have something like this. He remembered what the apartment looked like when he entered, the pairs of slippers by the door, the book on the coffee table close to his pipe, and somehow.

Their older selves seemed comfortable and content. Happy.

A drop of hot liquid slid down his fingers to the corner of his mouth, and he pulled away his hand to look down at it. The drop tasted salty.]

Oh...

[drainedpaladin]

[he stood still while the boy touched the samue's sleeve, tracing the stitchwork and figuring out for himself that what Doumeki had said about its origins were true. he stood still, just watching the boy's face as he went through the realizations. everything about this place meant something, implied things about how they had been, how they lived - not even things as big or blatant as the shared bed. their things were scattered together, their lives intertwined in a way that didn't imply roommates. Doumeki had felt it from the moment he entered, knowing how he lived with his family, knowing how he interacted with Watanuki from that Island. he had felt it in his bones, and now he just stood still watching Watanuki come to the same realization.

anxiety tugged at him when Watanuki realized, as he watched the boy's eyes widen, his cheeks go red, and only mounted higher when the boy's hand connected with his mouth, hiding it, closing him off a little. he stood still, his head slightly down but eyes locked on Watanuki, not taking any action, waiting - for anger and shouting, for disgust, for fear, mounting his defenses in advance.

he hadn't expected a tear, hadn't expected Watanuki to simply say "oh" in a very small voice that way. he wavered slightly, his body shaking, then took a tentative step closer, his hand moving forward to touch the boy's shoulder, a slight brush of fingers]

Watanuki?

[successoroftime]

I'm -- fine.

[except he didn't sound entirely sure of himself, still caught in a half-daze, and he hunched forward, leaning close to Doumeki's touch after the initial moment of uncertainty (what did Doumeki think of this? why did his hand feel more gentle and almost hesitant?)

Watanuki rested his free hand on the edge of the kitchen counter for support. His hip bumped on the cold tile, and the blunt pain registered only distantly as his head was still caught in a swirl of thoughts.

breathe.

He inhaled and released it quietly. He barely felt the air; his heart beating in his chest was far too present.]

Were we really...

[he trailed off. It was like approaching delicate and fragile, like a newborn chick that had just broken its shell. Watanuki looked up at Doumeki, felling a little too exposed, only to have his breath stolen away once again. The concern - the anxiety, that careful wavering, as if peeking out from a guarded moment - was apparent in the other's usually calm features.

For a moment, Watanuki forgot himself, drawn in by the rare look of openness. In that moment, it seemed like the most precious thing in the world. Something he might not see for a very long time.]

[drainedpaladin]

[the boy said he was fine, but it didn't sound like he was quite sure of it. Doumeki knew it wasn't entirely fine when Watanuki leaned toward his touch, the slight momentum of his body pressing the palm of Doumeki's hand flat against his shoulder. he shifted his arm, curled fingers around Watanuki's thin shoulder, and gave a soft squeeze - solidarity, a best friend trying to offer comfort.

a best friend who couldn't breathe quite properly, whose head felt a bit strange with the shock setting in. the denied hope. he'd hoped so many times on that island, and only been hurt for it - a night by a beach in the moonlight after watching him die and come back, and they'd almost - the tension had been there, but... - he cut off that train of thought. what came after was far too painful, and there were only more painful things to think of after that. the taste of blood, snow outside, a dance...

still, when Watanuki asked if they were really...something...he felt the surge of hope again, and for a moment it showed on his face - an expression of sheer longing, tinged with loneliness, just for a moment before he closed his eyes and inclined his head slightly downward - a practiced movement to hide the things that may show, and spoke in a quiet voice when he felt he could]

It seems we were sharing a bed. What it means, I don't know.

[not entirely true, as he had a very strong feeling about what they were to each other here, before returning the way they were. some part of him wanted to be that other Doumeki - but he had no option to do that, it was a frivolous thought that passed by in a moment. he only had here, and now, and he would do what he could to make the best of it]

Do you need to sit down?

[successoroftime]

[Doumeki's features shifted slightly: it was the look in his eyes, the different way the corners of his mouth creased, the sadness and the want. Watanuki's eyes widened, even as he watched Doumeki bow his head, as if he felt uneasy. His lips were parted behind his shaking hand as he listened to Doumeki's confirmation of uncertainty.

Watanuki's chest tightened. Doumeki's expression and the answer that followed -- Watanuki looked down at the floor instead, unable to explain to himself why something felt off about that, why his face still felt heated and why he felt caught in the moment between freezing and moving, the need to know and the despairing knowledge that if his guess was true, he didn't know how he'd react or what he'd do with it. Didn't know how Doumeki would take his reaction, nor what he'd do with himself if he drove Doumeki away because of it.

Even if it might be safer for Doumeki, so felt the part of him that still worried about if he'd made the right decision in openly welcoming Doumeki's choice. Watanuki swallowed. Ultimately, there was no right or wrong answer -- only relative possibility that relied on personal value.

He shook his head in response to Doumeki's question, uncertain if he could move. The other's hand on his shoulder felt all the more fragile, a tenuous balance between staying and running.]

I'll be fine. [Watanuki let his hand fall, and he grasped his elbow, not noticing how his shoulders hunched forward a little. He felt rather small at the moment, though he couldn't allow himself to completely fall silent on himself. Not now.] You?

[drainedpaladin]

[there was something about the way Watanuki reacted, the tilt of his head, the movement of his eyes, the way his hand shook, and his head tilted toward the floor with his face still red...it made him feel like he'd missed something. he couldn't place what the response was, but it wasn't relief, not relief at having it confirmed that they didn't have to be something mre than friends to each other in this future, in this place. it looked like disappointment, and Doumeki stood still for a few moments, looking at the boy while he shook his head, and left his hand on his shoulder, and kind of vaguely thought that Watanuki looked disappointed, in a sort of detached way.

it took him several moments to catch up to himself, to build up the fortitude to start wondering what Watanuki might be disappointed about - there were too many things, too many possibilities, and he didn't know which direction to go in. he'd learned the hard way not to take the best route, too many times, even before Salkia, and taking the worst was an emotional struggle he didn't feel up to at the moment, so he let it stop there. with possibilities.

Doumeki took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, letting his hand continue to rest on Watanuki's thin, hunched shoulder.

when he was directly asked a question, he had a hard time responding. words had never come easily, and words with meaning came almost impossibly, so it was difficult to even force air through his vocal cords, to will himself to speak. when he did, it was low, very quiet, a bit rough, as if he hadn't spoken in a long time]

I'm confused.

[in the tone of an admission - something he didn't want to say, but couldn't avoid speaking]

[successoroftime]

[it wasn't quite disappointment but a general feeling of loss. Doumeki's words put it into perspective, really -- it was confusing for Watanuki as well, not because this was already a situation that he hadn't imagined that turned out this way, but because something was missing and he couldn't pin it down.

Watanuki gently rubbed his fingers on his elbow, taking a soft breath before looking up at Doumeki, his body language easing. Doumeki's admission somehow took away the burden of not knowing about what kind of not knowing they had, a different kind of question from having to pinpoint what Watanuki felt was missing, and it diffused the tension.

Just a little.]

About which part?

[drainedpaladin]

[how could he explain that part? how could he summarize everything he'd been thinking of when he already knew he couldn't say most of it after his attempt for the Christmas party, and when he couldn't force himself to verbalize the things he felt safer saying? it was too much, it was frightening, and though Doumeki wasn't a coward, he was dealing with something intensely important in this situation.

still, Watanuki settled a little when he'd admitted he was confused, and was looking at him again. he swallowed hard, and forced himself to keep looking at Watanuki, his hand sliding from the boy's shoulder for the moment and hanging at his side. he resisted the urge to curl it against his belly in a defensive move]

Most of it. This isn't what I was expecting to find.

[successoroftime]

[the hand on his shoulder was withdrawn, and Watanuki blinked in surprise, glancing at his shoulder, wondering that it felt too light, and held his elbow in a tighter grip.

The cooling of his skin and the lack of weight only added to the sense of loss. He tipped his head to the side and shifted his gaze on the floor again.

What was Doumeki thinking right now? Even if he got to know more about the other teen, it still felt like there was so much he couldn't tell.]

You, too? Even if you already said that living in the same place was something you had in mind.

[drainedpaladin]

[he'd outed himself, in a way - and he wondered if some part of it was subconsciously purposeful. he hunched his shoulders a bit, feeling suddenly a bit exposed. it was the reason he tended to be quiet, to mask the things he was feeling or thinking - he didn't like this feeling]

Living in the same place is one thing, but...sharing a bed...

[he caught his breath, looking at Watanuki again for a moment, cautious but with that slight look of longing on his face. just for a moment before he masked it, hid it, glanced downward, his hair long enough to cover his face]

[successoroftime]

Un. It's a big change, isn't it. I wonder...

[For once, he was able to resist having his mouth run off again, and the feeling of holding a delicate glass sculpture returned. Maybe it was in the form of a small, transparent bird, and he could feel the warmth from the fire it sealed within through the glass.

It was still a small flame. Watanuki closed his eyes for a moment, imagining himself holding that item, seeing the gold and blue lights reflect off the surface.

He had to be careful not to drop it, because if he did the fire inside wouldn't be able to be as strong as it can be.]

I wonder what our older selves thought. Still, I think they were happy, right?

[the smile on his lips turned dry.] I already knew that things wouldn't be easy. That's why I couldn't imagine something as close as this.

[drainedpaladin]

[Watanuki was being relatively queit, considering the topic of discussion at hand. he felt strangely tentative, all of a sudden, as if he was treading on dangerous ground with Watanuki, like there was a chance that things would be ruined if the wrong words were said. he wanted to be honest, he wanted to speak his mind, but there was that fear that if he did that, it would scare the boy away, or worse - Watanuki still wouldn't notice, still wouldn't realize, like at Christmas. that he wasn't looking at Doumeki that way, even if Doumeki was doing his best to show what he felt.

Watanuki not noticing was almost more upsetting than Watanuki rejecting him. that was why Christmas had been so painful - because Watanuki hadn't even realized what Doumeki had been getting at, and that meant the wait was longer than Doumeki could have anticipated. time stretched out in front of him - four years was more than the time he'd known Watanuki already, and it was so much, how much more would he lose before he got what he needed in return?

he exhaled shakily and frowned slightly, glancing to the side]

It's closer than I expected you'd want me.

[successoroftime]

[those words made him self-conscious. Watanuki knew that he was to blame for that; he did tend to behave badly, and other people disagreed with how he judged things if he cared for the other party involved and there was only so much he could to to help.]

Where you'd want to be is up to you, isn't it? [his lips curved in a self-depreciating smile.] We had already talked about this before, about you staying.

[drainedpaladin]

We did talk about it. I thought I made it clear that what you want...

[he cut himself off before he said something he'd regret, something too easily misunderstood, or something too easily understood, something to put him at a disadvantage to the only person whose opinion could shake Doumeki to the core. his breath came in a shuddering sort of way, and he exhaled shakily, looking away from Watanuki, displeasure written all over his features.

he was a little bit angry that, again, Watanuki refused to take responsibility, put it all on Doumeki's shoulders and acted as if his own opinion didn't factor in. he was a little bit hurt, too, because he couldn't dictate, wouldn't want to dictate, the type of relationship he saw in this apartment, wanted for himself]

What you want. It's important too.

[successoroftime]

I know.

[it wasn't that Watanuki refused responsibility. It's because he was afraid that Doumeki would grow to not like this once he was already involved too deep, as deep as their current living space implied.

He didn't want to trap Doumeki, especially when he already knew how far Doumeki would follow his loyalties.

Watanuki glanced down when he saw the tension in Doumeki's frame. This time, at least, he knew what he said to make the other angry.]

It isn't that I don't appreciate the promises you made. Though, I also want you to be sure that you'd be happy at the end of all of this. That's the most important thing.

[drainedpaladin]

[his eyes flicked up to look at the boy's face, clearly, straight on, and his chest rose and fell a little harder, his face feeling heated even if no colour showed. he frowned a little, his frame still tense, and then shifted to lean against the counter with a hip, lifting his arms to cross them on his chest, against the strange pain forming under his diaphragm]

Stop that. You're doing it again, like with the spider woman.

[his jaw tightened, tense under his skin, and he looked away from the other boy]

What you want is important. The most important. [his breath exhales softly] I'll do what will satisfy me, but I need your permission first.