notes: The plot bunny was being a bitch. >.> Again for the same three people, Sanae_Y, Sephy and Amet - but most specially for Sephy in hopes that this will cheer her up. Warning: This thing is weird. -_-'' I don't know what got into me.
The Line Between
by DaMouse
He was no longer a boy. He is a man.
He is noticing, all those subtle changes, the little things, and the more significant ones, that makes him realize, makes him see, how time has really passed.
The boy was cheerful, carefree, always smiling and happy, shouldering the responsibility with an almost innocent and unknowing air. The man is still maintaining that smile, but somehow, has matured, grown. He knows his tasks, he knows the heavy duty that came with it, he knows exactly what is happening and why. He thinks more of the consequences, and the strain is showing in his face.
The boy was timid, in some sense, the peacemaker, the innocent one, the baby-faced one that often makes the older one want to protect him and shield him from harm. The man is firm, and commanding. Still the peacemaker, but much more insistent than the boy had been. No longer innocent – perhaps never ever was, perhaps it was another mask the boy was wearing – and more capable than ever of taking care of himself and the rest of his teammates. He is stronger, much stronger, and he wouldn’t dream of trying to pull any kind of hero-saving trick with the man.
The boy hid his pain behind masks of laughter. The man is verbal, the man didn’t believe in masks, or at least, not the kind the boy wore. The man has developed another kind of mask for himself that hides thoughts more than feelings. He found himself worrying about the boy, and now, constantly guessing about the man.
The boy was shy when it came to the matters of the heart. Shy, but at the same time, affectionate. He would want to touch him, to hug him, to whisper words of love and comfort. The man is self-assured and knows precisely what he wants from the older man. He still talks of the love, but not in the bashful manner of once upon a time.
The boy was responsive but never one to lead. He would reach out to the older one but never to initiate a kiss, he was the one that often did, tongues touching in a sweet dance, to moan softly at each skim of fingers across heated skin, to arch his back and cry out his name at the height of pleasures. The man is different. He would take his older lover by surprise, to kiss him with aggressive abandon, to push him down and touch him in masterful, daring ways that the boy never had, nipping at the sensitive areas of his skin, to dominate and to lead, to take his lover, to make him succumb himself…
He knew the boy, he knew every single turn in the boy’s head, his thoughts, his dreams, his feelings, his emotions. The man, is a mystery to him at times. He is kept at the bay of guessing games at each cryptic word, each ambiguous mumble, each shift of the blue eyes.
The boy had crossed the line, and had grown up. Tsukiyono Omi was no more, and this is Takatori Mamoru. The man is Takatori Mamoru.
He loved the boy. He loved the boy with every single scorching fiber of his soul. He knew the boy loved him the same way. He loves the man, too, with a fierce desire. But he is no longer certain whether the man loves him or not. And sometimes, much as he refuses to admit it, it scares him. And when it does, he mourns for the loss of the innocence and the breath-taking sweetness of the first love.
He doesn't know how to classify this love anymore.
But in the moment Mamoru presses his lips against Aya’s, when he lifts the shirt over his head and runs his hands down the contours of his older lover’s chest, when he feels the searing touch of his younger lover, when mind-numbing pleasure begins to consume him, Aya ceases all thoughts in his head, and sees only the man he loves.
May it be Omi, or Mamoru – this man is the man Fujimiya Aya chooses to love, above everything else. It doesn't matter how he loves him. He had fallen in love with Omi, and he will continue to love Mamoru, the man that Omi had become.
For as long as time will remain.
-end-
725 words
>> Told you people it was WAY WEIRD. And I shall stop writing now. XD;; 430AM, YAWNS. And hey, I can justify for this thing now! IT WAS WRITTEN AT 430AM OMG.
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