[ ah, but dreams are always like that: torn asunder by the winds of change, battered by the tides of time. each one — little hopes and little promises — caught between milk teeth as though fresh primroses, stuck to the skin as though the residual sap of wayward pines. once upon a time, long ago and in the middle of the night, kaeya had blown in as though any rainstorm. he'd tumbled into diluc's bed and diluc's arms as though he'd meant to fit there, as though he'd never any other choice. pieced together as though the seams of letters, tucked as though dandelion seeds in the palms for prayer, diluc had known back then that no matter what it was that kaeya did to him — and perhaps, diluc knows now, that that wish was childish too.
once upon a time, he'd thought kaeya to be a slip of the moon. a far shore that he might dip his hands into, might hold close to him and know the light he saw as if he were not serving only to reflect his own. back then, he'd never thought he'd assumed, that he'd stifled, that he never burned so hotly that he forbid any hope for kaeya to grow. in the soft soil of their mutual body, how much of it was diluc's own? how much of it did kaeya wish to hold from himself? how much does diluc still not know? how much, he thinks hazily as kaeya pulls off his boots and helps him out of his coat, did diluc just guess he deserved?
none of it. those are the words coiled in the pit of his stomach, caught about his teeth. he was never— diluc wants to slur out a retort, something quick off the tongue and witty too, but the profound ache that surges up from his core leaves him reeling in the next breath, a dull throb of want of anything to quiet the heat of his body a signal to what little is left of himself to grumble out some assent to the word of "showering" and the implication of returning again as he fights (futilely) the slip of his own elbows to faceplant against the bed. and really, the only portion at all that saves him? it is the implication. that kaeya, despite all his huffing, lingers in diluc's space. that kaeya watches him, as much as diluc watches him. that, in the grey down of his scattering thoughts, there is the fact his hands felt as steady as he'd remembered them.
and with that, diluc thinks as he shoves his face deeper into the mess he's already made of kaeya's bed (never mind that he fills his lungs with the scent of what kaeya is), that is enough of those thoughts. ]
no subject
once upon a time, he'd thought kaeya to be a slip of the moon. a far shore that he might dip his hands into, might hold close to him and know the light he saw as if he were not serving only to reflect his own. back then, he'd never thought he'd assumed, that he'd stifled, that he never burned so hotly that he forbid any hope for kaeya to grow. in the soft soil of their mutual body, how much of it was diluc's own? how much of it did kaeya wish to hold from himself? how much does diluc still not know? how much, he thinks hazily as kaeya pulls off his boots and helps him out of his coat, did diluc just guess he deserved?
none of it. those are the words coiled in the pit of his stomach, caught about his teeth. he was never— diluc wants to slur out a retort, something quick off the tongue and witty too, but the profound ache that surges up from his core leaves him reeling in the next breath, a dull throb of want of anything to quiet the heat of his body a signal to what little is left of himself to grumble out some assent to the word of "showering" and the implication of returning again as he fights (futilely) the slip of his own elbows to faceplant against the bed. and really, the only portion at all that saves him? it is the implication. that kaeya, despite all his huffing, lingers in diluc's space. that kaeya watches him, as much as diluc watches him. that, in the grey down of his scattering thoughts, there is the fact his hands felt as steady as he'd remembered them.
and with that, diluc thinks as he shoves his face deeper into the mess he's already made of kaeya's bed (never mind that he fills his lungs with the scent of what kaeya is), that is enough of those thoughts. ]