citylogs | denied the light [OPEN]

[The world hasn't collapsed.]

[They have not exploded here and now. Nothing as far as he knows has come to an end.]

[He still feels it, of course. That hanging feeling of "this can't last, this won't last, you know the well of karma will have its due". He doesn't know how to be rid of it. Maybe even after this, he'll go home, stare at the wall, and ask himself if this is something he can even bear to go through.]

[Fixers are not made to have relationships, right?]

[He remembers a man, with tears streaking down his face under a mask, his suit soaked in blood.]

[If Daan dies, and dies for good, will he take a page from that book? (Ha. Book...]

["No matter whose death unfolds before me, I have resolved to walk down this path." He once told himself.]

[......But Daan is smiling. He's smiling, and he can't help it. His heart has always been a vulnerable thing.]

Say. You kept saying you had a list of reasons why you'd never let me go. What was it?

What, you wanna hear that embarrassing shit?

[But he does oblige, despite his words. Daan can't remember the last time he's managed to smile this much; expressing more than a nudge always felt too exhausting, but right now it feels all the easier.

Even if it's still all the more terrifying.]

...For all the things you've done for me. And all the ways you mean to me. Looking out for me, even when I was ready to just let myself be consumed by despair again. Even if I didn't exactly appreciate being smacked in the head in the mall. Or you threatening to break down my door.

Other things, too. ...How... it felt like a triumph when I could make you smile. And I wanted to keep finding ways to do that for you. Your companionship's important to me as well.

...I said this was embarrassing, didn't I?

Heh.

[H E H]

[But seriously, this is very sweet, he thinks. Even if at the time, doing all of that felt more like things he simply had to do, as easy as breathing. Check on Daan. Save him from monster cats. That sort of thing.]

[His hand finally falls back, getting tired from holding it up for so long, but he's comfortable where he is.]

This is the good kind of embarrassing.

Don't laugh at me, asshole.

[But he isn't offended, despite his words. It's weirdly just become part of his love language for the other man.

Though the hand goes down, Daan is keen to place his fingers over it. Just to touch, just to enjoy this a bit longer.]

Good. Because I definitely can't take those words back.

...I hate to ask, but... I want to be sure. How private do you need me to be about this? [because APPARENTLY according to KAVEH it's REALLY OBVIOUS]

I'll laugh all I want.

[You can't stop him, bastard.]

[He doesn't mind the touch, looking more comfortable - honestly, Daan now has the right to touch him as much as he wants to, now, a privilege that most people would probably die for back in the City (like certain people with names that rhyme with Ron Ruixote).]

...Mm. [A good question. He closes his eyes for a moment, pensive.] I will say, I don't exactly want us to scream it from the rooftops. In my profession, to keep it secret would be paramount. It's about protection.

[But...]

I realize it might be harder to hide than one thinks.

[Fingers absently trail over the back of Vergilius' hand, no real directly other than simply wanting to stay touching him. Daan nods, understanding; he wasn't exactly eager to draw attention to themselves either, but he can't help but think of how easily Kaveh picked up on it.

Then again, Daan had been an absolute bloody mess at the Haunted House from desperately trying to revive Vergilius.]

No, I'm... with you on that. And I don't want to make anything more difficult on you.

If I may, I at least want to keep a couple of people informed. Just so there's no surprises. But I don't plan on making it a big deal either. Does that work?

[His fingers gently lift up as the other moves his hand, interlocking. He doesn't think his heart will be perched so directly on his sleeve as to be obvious, but its not like he's the best predictor of such things. He didn't even keep the orphanage secret from his Office, back then, after all.]

...That works. But. [And now he's opening his eyes, a little frown on his face.] Don't tell any of my...well, to choose a word, "employees". I could do without the hassle of them knowing.

[He makes an amused sound, gently squeezing the hand in his own.]

Oh? You don't want me to tell Don? Shame. [A shake of his head.] Yeah, don't worry about that. I don't plan on telling them. Seems like it'd be a real headache for you otherwise.

If you tell Don Quixote, I will snap your head off.

[>8|]

Wow, so fierce.

[Once again, Daan is not intimidated when he probably should be, even a little bit. Welp.]

I won't tell her, I promise. I didn't even show her your stunning photo as a stallion. That's real love right there.

[With a withering stare:]

Maybe I should take back everything I just said about you just now.

Ouch. I thought we had something special. Our torrid love affair lasting a whole five minutes... tsk.

[He huffs.]

The rate you're going, maybe we won't get to ten minutes. We'll see.

Brutal. Coming right out here to break my heart already.

[This is the bit he does like. The going back and forth and such. Daan doesn't hide his grin, and he brushes back those bangs again from Vergilius' face.]

You did say I was an asshole.

[...]

[He reaches up to pull one of the other's hands down, tugging it, so that the palm hangs close to his mouth. Almost experimentally, he turns his head, pressing a light kiss against it.]

...I don't want to see you unhappy, though. Seriously.

[Well, apparently, it's one thing to give that kind of tender affection to Vergilius, but to receive it is... a bit flustering. Hmm.]

...Well. Who knew you could be sweet, huh.

...What?

[Yeah, he's going to smirk.]

Can't take what you dish out?

Oh, please. I can definitely keep up with you.

[huff]

Sit up, will you.

[Aw look at the good doctor pouting.]

[Adorable.]

[He does so with a little sigh, though.]

I was comfortable.

["Bastard."]

Well you can lay back down when I'm done. Just give me a minute.

[Daan doesn't remain looking very cross or pouting for long, though. Once Vergilius sits up, there's a pause before the doctor is reaching out to place his hand against his cheek once more.

Only this time it's to draw Vergilius in, so he can place a very light, very delicate kiss onto his lips.]

A minute? Okay.

[He already has a suspicion of what is to come, since he threw down the gauntlet here, so to speak. But even a guess doesn't compare to the real thing happening - the other's lips meet his, and he pauses, hand hovering.]

[Oh.]

[He could write a poem on how sweet that kiss is.]

...Mm. [Well, maybe only a few lines of poetry with how short that was. Daan may be drawing back, but the hovering hand finds its way to grab onto his shirt. He pulls him right back. He needs more of a stanza, here.] Not even a minute. You're slacking.

[So here. A proper kiss for you, doctor.]

[There are many things Daan has done in his life, for the sake of survival and the expectations upon his filthy childhood. He's been married, for hell's sake, and somehow this kiss feels all the more intimate than pretty much anything he's done. Daan is still for a moment, surprised at being drawn back in, uncertain if he should have dared to start to begin with.

But he doesn't regret it. It's more firm, less cautious than what Daan had initiated. He relaxes against the other man, cradling his face tenderly.

He doesn't want to stop, but he only breaks away so he can steal a breath of air.]

My bad. Let me make up for it.

[Daan leans in again to go for another kiss, to draw it out, as if he could somehow communicate everything in his heart through this alone.]

There you go.

[He manages to breathe, out of encouragement. He's glad for Daan taking the initiative - its his own way of giving permission, for Vergilius to let down his guard to allow himself just a little bit of something like this. The doctor gives him a kiss, and he can feel it, really feel it. Every ounce of affection and love delivered in a single gesture, making his ears feel all the warmer.]

[So this is what Daan was holding back all this time, wasn't it?]

[He heaves a little exhale through his nose, not wanting to draw back just yet. It's more than he ever deserved in his life. The weight of such feeling is enough to drown in.]

[Maybe its okay to drown in it, for a moment.]

[There's something like relief in his chest, that he's finally able to express himself in this way and share what he's harbored. For how long, he doesn't even truly know. Months, probably, as the emotions grew and grew, more fuel to the fire the more he's come to know Vergilius and spend time with him.

He's hardly deterred by his flaws and regrets. It's only earned Daan's compassion and empathy. He meant what he inadvertently expressed through the flower: he would know him all, including the rougher parts of him.

Daan wouldn't turn a blind eye again to that.

He pulls back and exhales slowly.]

...Yeah. There.

[he sure showed him(???)]

There.

[He repeats. His hand detaches from Daan's collar, drifting backwards to touch his own lips.]

[A kiss to build a dream on.]

My good doctor.

[He tries to find words, fails at them. Instead, his hand seems to talk for him, drifting to cup over the other's neck gently.]

Thank you.

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