Dream § Home
WARNING: R for some sexual content
One breath.
Two.
You go very still --
It's devastating, the way sensation rips through you, tearing and driving with relentless fury, knocking you flat and your back is arching, head falling back with your lips in a cry that's silenced by the winds roaring inside of you with it all slamming in -- the wall goes crack, spiderwebs spreading through wood -- hips bucking and thrashing, fingers digging deeper where they clutch and --
I don't know if I'll ever really deserve you, but you're everything, everything, everything. Even if I never say the words and don't know how, you can hear it. See it. Feel it, like this. The way I clutch and hold on and never want to let go. I'm dragging you in deeper and pulling you in until you're buried too deep, and can't dig yourself out. Until you're a part of me, grown right in like him, and I guess he belongs to you too, since he's a part of me, and I'm a part of you.
"--Why did you run away?"
His fingers are in your hair and the world is no longer coming apart but falling together. Konoha, below you in the valley, all golden and waiting. And the sun is setting, painting itself in slow strokes across your home, where children laugh through the streets of Tea Avenue. Filling the air with the sound of their small voices. Bells on a line in summer, is what it sounds like. And they go chasing butterflies in the fields where shinobi train their pride, and hone their honor.
The scenery changes and the fields empty themselves out. This is not the Konoha you call home, but the one that you almost destroyed. And the silence is stifling, a heavy thing that fills up the ears like the sound of Madara's voice, all leaden in your mind.
You see yourself, and you see what you had done.
Lightning screaming in your hand and your teacher's blue eyes narrowed and hard.
"I just need some time." You say, and he does not give you a look of disapproval for the lie.
He smiles instead and asks, "Is it helping?"
His fingers are gently moving. Soothing in their rise and fall. Their steady rhythm that knows just how to stroke.
At night the forest closes up. And the stars and the moon disappear beyond the treeline. No light pierces through the veil. It is too muted and soft and the tangle of trees here is so dense, not even sun can cut through the pitch of it.
And you are there, searching.
For an answer, perhaps.
Or maybe the question.
"I'm not sure."
"You should come back." He says it like it's the most natural thing to say. To him, maybe it is.
But he was not there when the barriers fell.
"I don't deserve to be there right now."
"Why?"
"I compromised the safety of the village."
His fingers stop, but only for a moment.
They start stroking again a moment later. Root to tip and back again. Sometimes they trace down the side of your face. Like they're trying to memorize you, to keep you in place, so you do not run away.
"You're going to have to be stronger so that it doesn't happen again," he says softly.
"Konoha is safer without me in it." This is what you believe.
"Konoha needs you. I need you." And then he smiles in the way he always does when you walk in through the door and he is there waiting. "You should come home," he whispers and his fingers are in your hair and his lips are soft when they kiss you and in that moment, you are in the bed you share with him, in the home you built together.
The world disappears and holds you in stasis like this: connected, only with him.
He breathes out.
And you breathe in.
You breathe together like this.
And you feel whole.
"I already am home."
[ It's slow, the way he wakes. He'd fallen asleep under the shade of a tree, and it'd been so long since he'd had a good night's rest that the sleep was deep, and steady, lingering. He doesn't want to wake up. Wants to go on sleeping. And his body is already pulling him back under. So he turns onto his side and lets sleep crash over him. ]
One breath.
Two.
You go very still --
It's devastating, the way sensation rips through you, tearing and driving with relentless fury, knocking you flat and your back is arching, head falling back with your lips in a cry that's silenced by the winds roaring inside of you with it all slamming in -- the wall goes crack, spiderwebs spreading through wood -- hips bucking and thrashing, fingers digging deeper where they clutch and --
I don't know if I'll ever really deserve you, but you're everything, everything, everything. Even if I never say the words and don't know how, you can hear it. See it. Feel it, like this. The way I clutch and hold on and never want to let go. I'm dragging you in deeper and pulling you in until you're buried too deep, and can't dig yourself out. Until you're a part of me, grown right in like him, and I guess he belongs to you too, since he's a part of me, and I'm a part of you.
"--Why did you run away?"
His fingers are in your hair and the world is no longer coming apart but falling together. Konoha, below you in the valley, all golden and waiting. And the sun is setting, painting itself in slow strokes across your home, where children laugh through the streets of Tea Avenue. Filling the air with the sound of their small voices. Bells on a line in summer, is what it sounds like. And they go chasing butterflies in the fields where shinobi train their pride, and hone their honor.
The scenery changes and the fields empty themselves out. This is not the Konoha you call home, but the one that you almost destroyed. And the silence is stifling, a heavy thing that fills up the ears like the sound of Madara's voice, all leaden in your mind.
You see yourself, and you see what you had done.
Lightning screaming in your hand and your teacher's blue eyes narrowed and hard.
"I just need some time." You say, and he does not give you a look of disapproval for the lie.
He smiles instead and asks, "Is it helping?"
His fingers are gently moving. Soothing in their rise and fall. Their steady rhythm that knows just how to stroke.
At night the forest closes up. And the stars and the moon disappear beyond the treeline. No light pierces through the veil. It is too muted and soft and the tangle of trees here is so dense, not even sun can cut through the pitch of it.
And you are there, searching.
For an answer, perhaps.
Or maybe the question.
"I'm not sure."
"You should come back." He says it like it's the most natural thing to say. To him, maybe it is.
But he was not there when the barriers fell.
"I don't deserve to be there right now."
"Why?"
"I compromised the safety of the village."
His fingers stop, but only for a moment.
They start stroking again a moment later. Root to tip and back again. Sometimes they trace down the side of your face. Like they're trying to memorize you, to keep you in place, so you do not run away.
"You're going to have to be stronger so that it doesn't happen again," he says softly.
"Konoha is safer without me in it." This is what you believe.
"Konoha needs you. I need you." And then he smiles in the way he always does when you walk in through the door and he is there waiting. "You should come home," he whispers and his fingers are in your hair and his lips are soft when they kiss you and in that moment, you are in the bed you share with him, in the home you built together.
The world disappears and holds you in stasis like this: connected, only with him.
He breathes out.
And you breathe in.
You breathe together like this.
And you feel whole.
"I already am home."
[ It's slow, the way he wakes. He'd fallen asleep under the shade of a tree, and it'd been so long since he'd had a good night's rest that the sleep was deep, and steady, lingering. He doesn't want to wake up. Wants to go on sleeping. And his body is already pulling him back under. So he turns onto his side and lets sleep crash over him. ]