rapunzel fic: a boy (wild/rapunzel)
Nothing more than gratuitous BL, but this series is so close to heart! *_* I remember reading in the dead of night and listening to this song on repeat, when I should have been working on research reports. XD
Written for and cross-posted to 31_days.
A BOY.
Rapunzel copyright Sugiura Shiho.
Homecoming this evening yields the image of a strangely soft and less excited young boy standing alone by the window and reverently gazing off into the distance.
"Look," points Rapunzel. It is nearly dark outside. "I think I can see the end of the world from here."
Wild steps behind him and gazes where he is gazing. "But the world," he reminds the boy, whispering into his ear, "is never flat--you must remember that." He hesitates for a moment and then presses his hand gently against the back of the boy's neck and closes his eyes (and listens to the floorboards creak); the boy's neck is warm, and the soft, untrimmed edges of his sunflower-colored hair tickle against his palm. Then the boy sighs sweetly into the night and, at length, searches for Wild's hand behind him in the dark, where he holds it between his smaller own for a long while and does not let go. Wild watches in stunned silence as their pulses collide and says nothing for a moment; his breathing is, at most, a caged bird.
"No," Rapunzel agrees at last, turning toward him with his suddenly soft, child-bright eyes, "it could never be. Not with Sorcerer-sama here."
END.
Written for and cross-posted to 31_days.
A BOY.
Rapunzel copyright Sugiura Shiho.
Homecoming this evening yields the image of a strangely soft and less excited young boy standing alone by the window and reverently gazing off into the distance.
"Look," points Rapunzel. It is nearly dark outside. "I think I can see the end of the world from here."
Wild steps behind him and gazes where he is gazing. "But the world," he reminds the boy, whispering into his ear, "is never flat--you must remember that." He hesitates for a moment and then presses his hand gently against the back of the boy's neck and closes his eyes (and listens to the floorboards creak); the boy's neck is warm, and the soft, untrimmed edges of his sunflower-colored hair tickle against his palm. Then the boy sighs sweetly into the night and, at length, searches for Wild's hand behind him in the dark, where he holds it between his smaller own for a long while and does not let go. Wild watches in stunned silence as their pulses collide and says nothing for a moment; his breathing is, at most, a caged bird.
"No," Rapunzel agrees at last, turning toward him with his suddenly soft, child-bright eyes, "it could never be. Not with Sorcerer-sama here."
END.