(no subject)
Title:
Prompt: 8. in repair
Word Count: 823?
Summary:
Author Notes/Warnings: SO MUCH EMOOOOO. /wristwristwrist
Another morning. Time marches on no matter how much one tries to fight it. Life prevails, they say. It's amazing how an optimistic saying can sound so cold and impartial. But after an experience like that...sometimes it seems everything's against you. weak. I dunno how to begin this.
The sunlight filtering through his curtains gently coaxed Tsuzuki awake. He didn't open his eyes, but breathed in deeply. He dully considered the world waking up. People adjusting ties and eating breakfast, preparing themselves for another day that lay ahead of them in the office. He was supposed to be doing the same.
But he didn't want to go. Outside meant people. People meant he had to lie. He was tired of lying, and tired of being Tsuzuki, and tired of being tired. The futon, on the other hand, offered softness and warmth and sweet, dreamless oblivion.
There really was only one choice, right now.
It was maybe only an hour after he was supposed to be in the office when he heard the loud, insistent knocking. No one called his name, but Tsuzuki ventured a sleepy, weary guess as to whom was on the other side of his door. Imagining the scowl that must adorn his partner's face right now almost made him smile, but the thought flitted past and was lost before it could take hold. There was nothing to laugh about, really.
After ten minutes of periodic knocking, the cyclic rhythm of the loud pounding and a minute's silence, Tsuzuki heard footsteps on his tatami mats, the sound muffled through the thick blankets pulled up over most of his head. A little more alert now, he figured politeness must have been tossed aside for a quick teleport, and tried to keep his breathing slow and even, feigning sleep. He fiercely projected thoughts of sleep, then wondered idly if that was counter-productive. The figure knelt down, the soft rustle of fabric and a near inaudible thud as their knee hit the floor.
There was a long quiet, where Tsuzuki could only hear his breathing magnified by the close proximity of his blankets to his face. The world felt muddy. He just wanted to sleep...
The sudden feeling of a gentle hand brushing back his hair diverted him from that. The touch was so light he almost thought he had imagined it. But there was something unmistakably hesitant about it.
"I know you're awake."
Hisoka's voice was not reprimanding, or even annoyed. On the surface, it was simply quiet. Tsuzuki knew that it was gentle, for Hisoka. And worried.
"Tsuzuki."
More insistent this time. Ah well. No point in faking much further. Tsuzuki slowly pulled the comforter down far enough to see the boy sitting next to him. He wondered how bad he looked just from the eyes up if a small, thin line of concern slowly knitted itself between Hisoka's eyebrows as he did so.
"Sorry." It was all he could think of to say. For lying. And not showing up to work. Or not even bothering to try. Maybe anything? Or everything.
Hisoka didn't say anything. He was silent for a minute, before sighing and sitting down more comfortably. He ran one hand through his hair, but gave up halfway through; his palm stopped to rest on his forehead, his fingers splaying his bangs at odd angles and covering one eye. The arm rested on one knee, and Hisoka kept giving Tsuzuki darting, frustrated and indecisive glances. It took him a long moment to finally, quietly ask, "Will you tell me about it?"
No was the automatic answer that rang through his mind. But that was a defense he'd spent a long time building. Did it ultimately matter, in the face of someone who'd fought so hard for him?
"Maybe."
Hisoka hissed with annoyance, probably because he wanted to snap out of irritation but was able to control himself. "You either tell me or don't," he said, unable to keep some sharpness out of his voice. After a moment, he added quietly and almost apologetically, "But it doesn't have to be now. I can wait."
Tsuzuki was also silent for a while. He felt crushed by an invisible, almost comfortable weight that kept him tired and listless. And useless. But somehow having this small, strong person willing to ignore all other obligations, which Tsuzuki knew went against his practicality, just to wonder about his welfare...
One hand reached out to gently grab a fold in Hisoka's jeans. There was an absolute wordless 'please stay, for a little while. I need this.' in the gesture, and maybe a much smaller 'thank you'. Tsuzuki felt Hisoka tense, his automatic balking at any physical contact immediately kicking in. But repressed.
An agonizing moment passed, where Hisoka stared almost blankly at the offending hand. Tsuzuki felt himself emotionally recoil and suddenly have second thoughts. Was this a bad idea? he thought, while unable to bring himself to let go. But Hisoka had let go of his hair and stared, before slowly placing his own hand lightly upon his partner's. The hesitation and determination was unmistakable.
"You're welcome."
I'll stay.
Prompt: 8. in repair
Word Count: 823?
Summary:
Author Notes/Warnings: SO MUCH EMOOOOO. /wristwristwrist
Another morning. Time marches on no matter how much one tries to fight it. Life prevails, they say. It's amazing how an optimistic saying can sound so cold and impartial. But after an experience like that...sometimes it seems everything's against you. weak. I dunno how to begin this.
The sunlight filtering through his curtains gently coaxed Tsuzuki awake. He didn't open his eyes, but breathed in deeply. He dully considered the world waking up. People adjusting ties and eating breakfast, preparing themselves for another day that lay ahead of them in the office. He was supposed to be doing the same.
But he didn't want to go. Outside meant people. People meant he had to lie. He was tired of lying, and tired of being Tsuzuki, and tired of being tired. The futon, on the other hand, offered softness and warmth and sweet, dreamless oblivion.
There really was only one choice, right now.
It was maybe only an hour after he was supposed to be in the office when he heard the loud, insistent knocking. No one called his name, but Tsuzuki ventured a sleepy, weary guess as to whom was on the other side of his door. Imagining the scowl that must adorn his partner's face right now almost made him smile, but the thought flitted past and was lost before it could take hold. There was nothing to laugh about, really.
After ten minutes of periodic knocking, the cyclic rhythm of the loud pounding and a minute's silence, Tsuzuki heard footsteps on his tatami mats, the sound muffled through the thick blankets pulled up over most of his head. A little more alert now, he figured politeness must have been tossed aside for a quick teleport, and tried to keep his breathing slow and even, feigning sleep. He fiercely projected thoughts of sleep, then wondered idly if that was counter-productive. The figure knelt down, the soft rustle of fabric and a near inaudible thud as their knee hit the floor.
There was a long quiet, where Tsuzuki could only hear his breathing magnified by the close proximity of his blankets to his face. The world felt muddy. He just wanted to sleep...
The sudden feeling of a gentle hand brushing back his hair diverted him from that. The touch was so light he almost thought he had imagined it. But there was something unmistakably hesitant about it.
"I know you're awake."
Hisoka's voice was not reprimanding, or even annoyed. On the surface, it was simply quiet. Tsuzuki knew that it was gentle, for Hisoka. And worried.
"Tsuzuki."
More insistent this time. Ah well. No point in faking much further. Tsuzuki slowly pulled the comforter down far enough to see the boy sitting next to him. He wondered how bad he looked just from the eyes up if a small, thin line of concern slowly knitted itself between Hisoka's eyebrows as he did so.
"Sorry." It was all he could think of to say. For lying. And not showing up to work. Or not even bothering to try. Maybe anything? Or everything.
Hisoka didn't say anything. He was silent for a minute, before sighing and sitting down more comfortably. He ran one hand through his hair, but gave up halfway through; his palm stopped to rest on his forehead, his fingers splaying his bangs at odd angles and covering one eye. The arm rested on one knee, and Hisoka kept giving Tsuzuki darting, frustrated and indecisive glances. It took him a long moment to finally, quietly ask, "Will you tell me about it?"
No was the automatic answer that rang through his mind. But that was a defense he'd spent a long time building. Did it ultimately matter, in the face of someone who'd fought so hard for him?
"Maybe."
Hisoka hissed with annoyance, probably because he wanted to snap out of irritation but was able to control himself. "You either tell me or don't," he said, unable to keep some sharpness out of his voice. After a moment, he added quietly and almost apologetically, "But it doesn't have to be now. I can wait."
Tsuzuki was also silent for a while. He felt crushed by an invisible, almost comfortable weight that kept him tired and listless. And useless. But somehow having this small, strong person willing to ignore all other obligations, which Tsuzuki knew went against his practicality, just to wonder about his welfare...
One hand reached out to gently grab a fold in Hisoka's jeans. There was an absolute wordless 'please stay, for a little while. I need this.' in the gesture, and maybe a much smaller 'thank you'. Tsuzuki felt Hisoka tense, his automatic balking at any physical contact immediately kicking in. But repressed.
An agonizing moment passed, where Hisoka stared almost blankly at the offending hand. Tsuzuki felt himself emotionally recoil and suddenly have second thoughts. Was this a bad idea? he thought, while unable to bring himself to let go. But Hisoka had let go of his hair and stared, before slowly placing his own hand lightly upon his partner's. The hesitation and determination was unmistakable.
"You're welcome."
I'll stay.