citylogs | denied the light [OPEN]

[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.

[Slowly, Daan leans forward to lean just slightly against Vergilius, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. With his free hand, he just absently holds onto the edge of Vergilius' jacket.]

Sure. ...I'll kiss you anytime you want.

[There's a pause and he lets out a soft huff.]

I'll be put out if you wrinkled up my shirt, though.

Will you?

[Selfish, selfish, selfish. Is it selfish? To have Daan like this? But then again, it isn't selfish if that's what Daan wants too, right...?]

[He turns his head to rest against the other's head, eyes closing.]

You're so precocious about your clothing. Aren't you a doctor? You should invest in a lab coat or something.

Of course I will. Turns out I like kissing you, so it's not like it's a chore.

[He means to say it as teasing, but his voice is still warm and fond, his skin almost buzzing with the satisfaction of it all. Absurd that it is thrilling, but then again he genuinely did not think it would go this far.]

Daan huffs again.]

I like wearing nice clothes. Besides, I don't know when I'm gonna have patients, so I'm not going to wear a lab coat at all hours of the day. That's horrible.

[He laughs at that - a little short succession of huffs that rattle warmly through his chest.]

I would be quite heartbroken if you didn't like it.

[He shakes his head, his bangs brushing against the other's head.]

Maybe just pull out a poncho. Same thing, right?

[Obviously joking.]

[The sound isn't typical laughter from most people, but it's still satisfying to hear from Vergilius. Daan smiles faintly to himself, rubbing his thumb against the lapel of the man's jacket.

"I'm glad I can make you laugh."

It's an embarrassing thought to share, but. Eh, fuck it, he's said and done more flustering things today as is.]

Good news. You don't have to worry about it.

[He scoffs at the suggestion, knowing it's a joke but still--]

Are you sure you love me? This is a horrible idea.

[I haven't laughed like this for as long as I can remember.]

[He really hasn't. Even now ,with his heart permanently in the well of guilt its made itself, he's never felt so paradoxically light at the same time.]

...I do love you. [He says again, quietly - it may be a joke, but he responds sincerely, as if he wants to taste the words on his tongue again.] But you have to find compromises, Daan.

["I hope to encourage more of it."

Look. He knows this is a bit of their banter, but his face warms up at hearing it anyway. That Vergilius loves him.]

A poncho isn't a compromise. You should just be nicer to my wardrobe.

Making requests already. Hmmm. [HMMMM.] I'll see what I can do.

[His hand reaches up to cup the man's cheek, as if he can capture that warmth. A part of him says that it won't last for long.]

[This happiness will be taken away with everything else.]

[...]

[But like he did with his orphanage, he'll nurture this for the time being. Even if he knows its for naught.]

[It feels worth to, in the moment.]

Want to get out of here?

A real thinker, is it?

[But he pauses almost immediately at the hand and almost seems to melt. Daan, oddly, cannot remember exactly when it was he last had physical affection that made him feel comfortable and pleasant. Like he's a man dying of thirst, given finally sweet droplets of water, he can't have enough.]

Yeah. I'm ready to leave. ...Wouldn't mind staying with you for a bit after, though.

[it'd be real cool man]

What can I say? This head has thoughts, sometimes.

[The way the man relaxes - it feels like a pang from a lifetime ago. He held the hands of children, dressed their wounds, handed them gifts. Soft things. Gentle things. His hands could be used for more than just violence.]

[Daan makes him believe, fretfully, that maybe he still has that capacity in him.]

...Of course. Of course you can.

[One last kiss, he decides. Daan leans up to lightly take one, brief and quick, even if he's ever hungry for more and whatever Vergilius will give him. But he also wants to be patient, instead of diving in without a care.

They both have had joy vanish under their feet before. So it's not unusual that there's caution.]

Just kick me out when you're sick of me, yeah?

[One last kiss. He takes it. It feels like a little casual thing. He knows for a fact that it holds more meaning for the both of them than they could express in
words.]

[He moves to stand, offering the man a hand.]

We'll see if you last an hour, then.

[Heh.]

[The offered hand is taken with ease as Daan gets himself up.]

Pff. More like we'll see if you can put up with me for that long.

[But that smile is another win. So he takes it.]

Edited 2023-11-07 21:24 (UTC)

Oh, so now you mean to test my patience? You clearly want to do more than be a thorn in my side.

[A little squeeze to the hand.]

[A thorn is expected from a rose, after all.]

Hey, you always say I'm a menace. I'm just meeting your expectations.

[Ah. Daan ducks his head a little and squeezes back. It's silly, he tells himself. To be this bashful, or taken with affection.

Truly, he has been starved of it.]

Perhaps you want to exceed them.

[He has truly craved this more than he could ever express. The touch of a hand. The warmth of love.]

I don't mind. I could never mind.

denied the light [OPEN]

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me hitting my enter key like no i didn't (yes u did)

all good all good

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