more hurt/comfort, neverending

[swordfucker]

[Sometimes, it's just too difficult to sleep. The thoughts, the responsibilities, the nightmares that are likely to show up. Guren is tired of it all, and when staring at his ceiling just won't do the trick, he decides to take a walk.

It wasn't surprising to find himself walking to Bluo. There was no real intention to bother anyone at this hour. The stars were bright against an unnaturally dark sky, even if the water won't properly reflect them when it's this murky in the harbor. It's late, and even as he moves to pass by Dextera's house, look at their tulips, he doesn't expect to see him outside, as well.

He moves up quietly, though he doesn't make any attempt to hide his approaching footsteps. Near the water, looking at the sky, it seems that Dextera wasn't able to fall asleep, either.]

Can't sleep? [So, he speaks up, settling down to sit beside him without asking, and giving him a curious look. Maybe it's something he can help with.]

Comments

[passio]

[ dextera didn't expect to see guren, either, and he wonders briefly—worried—if they had planned something for tonight that he completely forgot about. but even if he had, it doesn't seem like guren is mad about it. his voice is quiet, comforting in the way that guren naturally is to dextera, and so dextera shifts to make room for him. ]

...

[ he nods, resting his chin on his knees. dextera looks tired, but his body isn't working with him tonight. ]

[swordfucker]

Me, either.

[He leans back on his hands, allowing Dextera his tired look to himself by looking out at the water, now, instead. It would look really beautiful if everything had color, if the water were normal, but right now... at least the night sky has returned in this way.]

You don't mind the company, do you?

[passio]

[ dextera shakes his head quickly, and in needing to lift his head to do that, he decides to readjust himself entirely—now that guren has settled, even though he just moved away, he moves closer now as if they can exchange comfort just by proximity.

he slides one hand down his leg, a small gesture that suggests he's thinking about what he wants to do with his fingers, and then he answers with something simple. ]

Pretty.

[ the sky, of course. it's soothing, even if the water doesn't mirror it well. ]

[swordfucker]

Yeah, it is.

[Of course, there was more on Guren's mind that he couldn't sleep through. Sitting next to him like this might be counterproductive, but he craves the closeness. Even watching that shift of Dextera's hand makes him want to reach out and grab onto it, but that's too much, and so he forces himself to hold back.

But this silence, this stillness, it's all comfortable and warm, even in the night on the water. He leans, just enough to bump his shoulder into Dextera's, and looks up at the sky again.]

If there was a moon, it would be perfect. [But he can't see one and that's the saddest.]

[passio]

[ dextera leans against guren as soon as he’s afforded the opportunity and guren’s silent agreement, and he breathes out through his nose that could just as easily be a laugh as a sigh. ]

No moon. No stars. Red.

[ is that what’s keeping him awake tonight? perhaps—or part of it, anyway, one of the many visions that haunt him whenever he closes his eyes. ]

[swordfucker]

[Guren looks back to Dextera again at that, breathing slowly, quietly, as if he might interrupt a man who speaks without a voice. So that's what he's been thinking about?]

There's none of that red here.

[He hopes the reminder helps, his fingers inching subtly across the ground but not ending up anywhere yet.] Just me.

[He's red, he means... Though, he's here, too.] Can't get it out of your thoughts?

[passio]

[ dextera sighs softly, nodding against guren’s shoulder. it’s more than just the sky, though, it’s— ]

His eyes. Red.

[ and who else would “he” be in this context but the archangel? red eyes, the same color as the sky, and hair so pale it’s nearly white. on him, the false wings look real. ]

[swordfucker]

[Damn that guy... Guren knows exactly who he means, and that's enough reason to ignore subtlety and just reach out, covering Dextera's hand on his lap with his own.]

Even when he's not here he's a pain in the ass.

[passio]

...

[ dextera lets guren take his hand, since he’s honestly grateful for the intervention. it doesn’t make him stop thinking about the archangel, but it’s a distraction.

he hears the archangel’s voice more than his own, sometimes. ]

He’s not.

[ a defense?! ]

[swordfucker]

[That's like a slap in the face, and it shows more than he wants. But he's not sure, he's thinking on it, desperate to correct it.]

He's not... what? [Here?? He's not here?? Because he's definitely a pain in the ass. Especially if he's keeping Dextera from sleep.

Guren squeezes at Dextera's hand lightly.]

Look... Just look at the stars, right now. We can make more constellations, if that's what you want.

[passio]

[ dextera doesn’t know why he said that, but even now—even like this, he feels like he needs to defend the archangel’s dignity. like it’ll come back to help or hurt him, depending on what he says.

he’s just tired. ]

...

[ he nods, slowly. does he want to make constellations? he’s not sure about that, but he does want to be with guren right now. in an apology, sort of, he laces their fingers together. ]

[swordfucker]

[Hmm... It feels like he can tell when a nod is a true yes or just a hesitant one, with Dextera, now. Their fingers curl together and he knows that Dextera not answering means that he's trying to defend the archangel. That if Guren tried to talk about how he wants to punch the guy, it wouldn't help at all. That drawing shapes in the stars probably won't help, either.

So what can he do? A whole lot of nothing. Still, he brings his free hand to point at the stars, leaning as close as he can to guide out the shape.]

Can you still see the ones we made before? There. And... there.

[passio]

[ the cherry blossom... and the sun, which could also just as easily be a moon in the absence of a proper one. it was just a circle to begin with, after all, and the memory of that conversation does get a wistful smile to tug at his lips. ]

...

[ dextera gestures with his nose to a vague area in the sky, and then he shifts so he, too, can try to point something out above them. he does this with their connected hands, however, and he forces guren to follow along with him.

a cross? the same one on his coat, because, unfortunately, that is where his mind is. he’s not even trying to be sad—that’s just what he sees. ]

[swordfucker]

[ Another thing, but this is too permanent. Is he always going to find that now? Always think about it. Guren stares like he wants to rip those particular stars from the sky, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He hums, like he acknowledges it, but he moves their joined hands to trace something else in the sky.

A tulip. Or, well, the simple shape a child would say is a tulip. ]

[passio]

[ dextera doesn't understand what he's looking at, even though guren guides him through it. the curve, three little points—a crown is his first thought, but that doesn't seem right. crowns aren't round at the bottom.

it's obvious when it dawns on him, because his expression is as open and easy to read as it always is. with his free hand, he hurriedly asks guren for confirmation. ]

Tulip?

[swordfucker]

Yeah, a tulip.

[ Gripping their laced fingers together, he pulls their hands back and into his lap, his other hand moving to cover Dextera’s there. Two hands holding his one, hoping enough is getting through. Think about now. About this. Forget about the rest right now.

It’s harder to say all of this aloud than it should be. ]

I don’t want to make any more. [ not if they’re going to be crosses. Why can’t the sky just be filled with happy things... Why can’t he do a damn thing about this. ]

[passio]

Ah—

[ dextera is sure he did something wrong, and it doesn't seem like it was the poor flower's fault. the cross? he doesn't know. mentioning the archangel, even though that was honestly what was bothering him? there are a hundred missteps he might have made, actually, since he's never sure what he wants to say when it comes to his complicated relationship with the man who could have been his savior. ]

...

[ he nods, despite all that, because he thinks he understands what guren is trying to say. ]

[swordfucker]

Don’t... don’t think I’m mad or anything. I’m not.

[ He feels like he has to say something like this now, as he struggles to find words, and he frowns as his desires mix and make things all the more confusing. Ugh... Lack of sleep is making him lose it, maybe, but he wants to try more. ]

You have to understand. Hearing about someone who treats you like that... it pisses me off. You don’t deserve it, no matter what you did. I’ve dealt with the same kinds of assholes, but I’m not nice like you. Even if they have complete control, even if I have guilt, I still want to punch them in the face.

[passio]

...

[ guren really does think he's nice, and dextera doesn't get that. he's a selfish, miserable fool, and any niceness he has is because he's terrified of people knowing that about him. but even so—guren says these things? he feels this way? ]

Sa...

[ dextera stops himself before he can defend the archangel again, his fingers pausing in the air. ]

[swordfucker]

He didn't save you.

[Guren mumbles it, but he knows that his opinion isn't going to matter. He's not going to take this away. He doesn't have the right. But as he stares at that paused hand in the air, and then looks to Dextera's eyes, he wishes even more that he at least had some way to help now.

His hand on top of their joined ones moves over to cup at Dextera's cheek, leaning close until their foreheads are touching, stilling by that but quietly speaking.]

What color are my eyes? [This is gay already]

[passio]

...

[ dextera seems shy, with guren that close, but there’s a strange bravery in his chest when he meets guren’s eyes for a reason that isn’t just checking the color. he knows guren’s eyes well. he doesn’t need to look, but he wants to. ]

Purple. [ this is mouthed, his breath ghosting across guren’s lips. ] ...sunset.

[ like the archangel’s eyes are the color the apocalyptic sky, guren’s... ]

[swordfucker]

[Everything stills like this. He can hear his heart, Dextera's breathing, and his hand slips from his cheek to move further back, behind his ear, fingertips dipping into his hair. His eyes are still on Dextera's.]

Can you remember them, even when I'm not here?

[passio]

[ of course, of course, of course.

how could dextera forget something so important? every memory he makes is precious, but the deep purple of guren’s eyes has become something like his favorite color, in all the time he’s spent here. ]

Yes.

[ spoken, in a way, and signed against guren’s chest as well for emphasis.

guren may never understand how much dextera treasures him. ]

[swordfucker]

Then every time you're haunted by that red, can you think of that purple, instead?

[Is that fair to ask? Can he do that much? They're already this close, but he wants to be closer, to pull him in and completely melt those thoughts away, leaving him only with good ones. But it's not so easy.]

[passio]

...

[ what a request.

like he doesn’t already think of guren so much, every day, all the time—except now, he supposes, with the archangel’s weight on his shoulders pushing him to insomnia. dextera nods, and then he’s turning his head, just a little, recklessly taking advantage of this closeness.

a bad decision? yes, he knows it is. it’s just that the two of them are so close that dextera’s chest aches, and such comforting words make him feel too calm and too brave at the same time.

so he touches his lips to guren’s, so softly it could be an accident, but he very much means it. ]