Rapture (Subaru/Yasu); 261
Rapture
Set two months after the end of "Threads." ♥
Kei, you've created a beautiful world to play in. :)
Subaru ducks under an arm and nicks his shoulder on some lady’s pocketbook, but he keeps running despite the startled shouts behind him. He takes the stairs two and three at a time, pacing his gasps and managing to dodge through the crush of commuters struggling into the subway.
Sunlight is a startling flash, but he runs blindly instead of waiting for his eyes to adapt. He counts streets, counts breaths, counts seconds.
Two months he resisted calling. Two months of rehearsed phone calls without an audience. Two months of detours by the hospital. Two months without a glimpse of gold. Two months of slow rebuilding, of reestablished contact and coaxing old friendships back to their former warmth and security. Two months of living and remembering why he’ll always want to live.
Through the park gates, around a fountain, his heart hammering thunder in his ears, his nails stamped into his palms, looking, searching -
“YASU!”
A jolt. Wide brown. Mercurial smile.
Subaru reaches Yasu without slowing and catches him tight in his arms. Because he’s never letting go and no one can make him. No one can make him. He’s been laughing and now he’s crying, hearing Yasu’s giggle in his ear and feeling Yasu’s fists clutching the fabric of his shirt between his shoulder blades.
Then Yasu’s face is wet and hot against Subaru’s neck, his smile so wide that his teeth graze Subaru’s neck. His hair smells like peaches and his breath is hot like summer and his smile feels like nothing Subaru can compare it to.
They’re free.
Set two months after the end of "Threads." ♥
Kei, you've created a beautiful world to play in. :)
Subaru ducks under an arm and nicks his shoulder on some lady’s pocketbook, but he keeps running despite the startled shouts behind him. He takes the stairs two and three at a time, pacing his gasps and managing to dodge through the crush of commuters struggling into the subway.
Sunlight is a startling flash, but he runs blindly instead of waiting for his eyes to adapt. He counts streets, counts breaths, counts seconds.
Two months he resisted calling. Two months of rehearsed phone calls without an audience. Two months of detours by the hospital. Two months without a glimpse of gold. Two months of slow rebuilding, of reestablished contact and coaxing old friendships back to their former warmth and security. Two months of living and remembering why he’ll always want to live.
Through the park gates, around a fountain, his heart hammering thunder in his ears, his nails stamped into his palms, looking, searching -
“YASU!”
A jolt. Wide brown. Mercurial smile.
Subaru reaches Yasu without slowing and catches him tight in his arms. Because he’s never letting go and no one can make him. No one can make him. He’s been laughing and now he’s crying, hearing Yasu’s giggle in his ear and feeling Yasu’s fists clutching the fabric of his shirt between his shoulder blades.
Then Yasu’s face is wet and hot against Subaru’s neck, his smile so wide that his teeth graze Subaru’s neck. His hair smells like peaches and his breath is hot like summer and his smile feels like nothing Subaru can compare it to.
They’re free.