#!!adam

      Time has started passing again. Adam isn’t completely sure what that moment was when it felt like everything stopped, before – the plunge? Realizing he would not heal, would not fly again? No – that doesn’t seem right. He doesn’t really know why he keeps thinking about this, other than the fact that this, out of everything else, is what keeps him up at night, sitting curled around his knees in bed, the blanket pooled at his ankles as he stares at the silhouette of Takashi sleeping next to him.

      Oh. There’s his answer – and, really, should he be surprised? It’s always come down to him, hasn’t it? It’s Takashi, after all.

I think it is best if we die .

It will never get better, this is how chronic illness works .

I dont want to hurt you, this is for your wellbeing . I dont want us to suffer . This is kindness. Even though it looks so cruel.

@madefate | can this much love exist in such a compact space?

Better than adream.

Adam watches throughhalf-lidded eyes as Takashi raises a hand and closes what little distanceremains between them. The touch is two ends of a spectrum all at once; butter-softbut filled to the brim with the kind of electricity he has never felt withanyone else. Adam smiles, letting the motion relax him, feeling (perhaps forthe first time since coming home) like he doesn’t mind that much the too-softbed he can’t get used to after months of sleeping on the ground in the camp.Lying here with Takashi, watching the morning sun kiss his starlight hair andthen scatter across his raised arm, Adam thinks he could be happy with the sinkingfeeling of smooth sponginess, a comfort he has yet to reacclimatise to.

Takashi’sface is filled with a concentration that could almost be comical, if it weren’tfor the fact that it’s so genuinely solemn in his focus. Years ago, Adamthinks, he would have been flustered by such pinpoint, hundred-percentattention, perhaps to the point of trying to deflect it. (For a moment, hissmile twitches as he reminds himself of the fact that Takashi is still prone todoing that.) Even now, there is a momentary, reflexive reaction that’sshort-lived enough to not let show, an upwelling of – not quite embarrassment,but a sense of undeserving, as thefeeling of just how loved he isenvelops him from head to toe, starting its spread from the point of contactbetween his skin and Takashi’s.

By now, herecognizes this as a faulty line of thinking, though, and after a few momentsof struggle that doesn’t show in anything other than the lightest of sheensappearing over his eyes, Adam swallows it away, and after a second longer ofalmost giving in to instinct, he ends up – not doing anything. Despite the factthat there is nothing he would love more than to find some way to reciprocate,to catch Takashi’s hand and press feather-light kisses to each of his gentlefingers, to press his warm palm back against Adam’s cheek, to reach out, even,and mirror every cautious, emotion-filled movement, there is something inTakashi’s gaze that gives him pause.

Somethingthat tells him, along with the tender swipe of a finger against his lips, thatit’s fine to just let this happen.

And, really,it’s not that Adam thinks Takashi doesn’t know he loves him back, but it’sstill – a pause, as he considers this. That there is more than blind faith stretching between them likeinvisible gossamer; it has strengthened into solid belief, based oneverything they’ve talked about, that even if Adam just lies here, not doinganything, and just accepts what he is given – Takashi still knows.

( and, ofcourse, also that there will be plenty of opportunities to reciprocate. slowlybut surely, alongside the reminders of how much they love each other, this, too,has started sinking in. the concept of time,as something they are not running outof, for once. )

With that lastthought in mind, it’s only almostsurprising that there is no grief when the moment passes, fleeting as it is. There will be more. Adam watches asTakashi’s hand settles, then raises his eyes to the other’s face, his smileetched into his gaze just as much as it is presented by the profound curve ofhis mouth. Before he realizes, without conscious thought, as if having finallygranted himself permission, he reaches out now, fingers seeking out Takashi’son the sheets between them and lacing themselves together one by one, his thumbrunning a circle or two on the back of the other’s palm.

@madefate | send me anything, anytime.

It’sthe stupidest possible timing, for Adam to have to be away today. He has beenfuming about it for a week, but today it has all burnt out to a quietresignation as he leaves at four in the morning, not to be seen or heard fromuntil late at night, when he would return. If he was at all a vindictive person,he might have made a small jab at the fact that Takashi goes on missions farmore often than Adam is requested for an inspection – but there is no reasonfor him to make this comparison, even if it grates at him terribly that thishad to be today. It’s absolutely notTakashi’s fault, but if he thinks about it, nor is it really the higher-ups’;it’s not as if they knew.

So,it is what it is – Adam, gone, but his presence lingering, in ways Takashimight not even expect.

Atable set for two when he wakes up and goes to the kitchen for breakfast; oneof the plates has a red rose set next to it (the bottom of the stem carefullywrapped in wet tissue paper), the other sporting an origami swan with ‘sorry’ written on a wing.

Anew pair of gloves tucked into his gym bag, plus an unopened, full roll of tape– which would be less of a thing, considering he was running out, if not forboth of these having a small red ribbon stuck to them.

Acouple more of the swans, each a different colour, tucked away at a variety ofplaces in the apartment, each well-positioned to not be plainly visible untilTakashi walks close, but all of those places well-chosen enough to definitelybe found, as if Adam knew where Takashi would be around the place over thecourse of the day.

Andthen finally, accompanied by another two roses, a letter on his desk – which certainlywasn’t there earlier, so the way it got there is a mystery, especially consideringKeith looks entirely innocent, and he isn’t usually any good at lying to hisbrother.

Takashi,

It’s been three years. Have you beencounting like I have? Sometimes I find myself switching years into months intodays, to know exactly how long it’s been. It’s a little like crossing off dayson a calendar in anticipation, but the complete opposite – because I’m notwaiting for anything to come, or anything to be over – I’m just grateful at theend of every day I got to spend with you, and am always looking forward formore to come.

I’m not going to apologize again, buthere’s a promise instead: I will make it up to you, not being there with youtoday to celebrate together.

Sometimes this whole thing stillfeels like a dream; far too good to be true. And I think if it really was adream, I wouldn’t want to wake up – but then I do wake up and you’re rightthere anyway, sprawled across me like the limpet you are. (I don’t mind!)

I could spend the day writing this,but it’s 3:30, and I’ll be late for my transport. Don’t wait up for me – we’llhave tomorrow. And many more days after that, hopefully. If you want it as muchas I do.

I love you,

Adam.

@madefate | meme me!

      Fora moment or two, the sight brings an impossible tightness to Adam’s throat withthe nostalgia of it. How many times did he, back then, find Takashi slumpedover the kitchen table or his own desk in his room, having dozed into themiddle of studying or getting ready for the classes he taught? He doesn’tremember the exact count – but that’s not what matters anyway.

     Heused to bring a blanket from the sofa and wrap it around Takashi’s shoulders.They don’t have those anymore, though there are different ones, a little lessfuzzy and thick. But that’s not the only thing that has changed; both of themcarry more weight on their shoulders, more scars across their scapulae (amongother places), more lines beneath their eyes. And frankly, there are betterplaces to get a good night’s rest, if one doesn’t want to wake up feeling likea washrag.

     SoAdam leans down, and albeit at first he plans to do the whole thing withoutwaking Takashi up, once up close, he finds himself unable to resist pressinghis lips to the other’s temple. And of course, Takashi is roused by it, thoughnot fully – as if he knows he doesn’t need to be fully alert, because he’s withsomeone he can trust. (Yet another thought that pulls at heartstringsunexpectedly, though it also tugs a smile onto Adam’s face as he leans down,relishing the knowledge that this is something he can do now.)

     “Holdon,” he says in a low voice, and he should probably be glad Takashi is notawake enough to protest or worry about him, because Adam doesn’t need it; heknows what he is capable of, and he couldn’t be happier that this is amongthose things. An arm goes around Takashi’s back, another under his knees, andwith only minimal pulling at his back, he rises, lifting the other’s bulky formlike it weighs nothing. A semi-coherent protest forms itself on Takashi’s lips,but Adam just smiles down at him as he walks across the room and into theother, where their bed awaits. “Hush, you’re not heavy,” he murmurs, as ifknowing what the other couldn’t find the proper words for.

     Puttinghim down is a little trickier, if he doesn’t want to pull anything – in theend, he simply sits down himself, then scoots backwards onto the bed, and fromthere on, it’s much easier to slide Takashi off onto his own pillow – after that,all that remains is to pull the blankets up around both of them. By the timehis own head touches the pillow, Takashi is once again out like a light – but evenso, as if acting on sheer instinct, his arm still finds its way around Adam’smiddle.

(a teaser, written with @madefate​.)

adam.

Oh God, he was — not ready. Why he thought this is beyond him now when it’s so obvious on the other’s face, but — he really did think someone would have let Takashi know of him being alive. (There is — one incredibly brief, bitter second where he’s almost satisfied. Yeah, that’s what it feels like. But it doesn’t last long when he’s looking right at Takashi’s face and seeing more pain than what he wanted to see on his features in a lifetime.) Then, another bitter wave, wholly different; of course they didn’t tell him, why would Adam be important enough?

He stands, tries to pull himself up to his full height; impossible when his left shoulder already lists down a little, maybe he’ll never be symmetrical again. Screw it, though. “In the flesh,” he says, grinning a little. The way his name was said already makes speaking a struggle through his incredibly tight throat, but he’ll manage, if only to chase away that lost look from Takashi’s face. “Well, mostly. Some of it is shrapnel.” His smile is lopsided, too, but that’s been like that always.

He spends another moment unmoving; he stood up, but then stays there, just drinking in the sight. So different — but deep down probably the same. Where it counts. Adam is suddenly struck by it — those parts, the best parts of Takashi, are far more than what he deserves. He remembers the things he said.

Since there is no way Takashi doesn’t, Adam does the only thing he can think of, and makes fun of it. He gestures towards the other’s startlingly white hair, and says, “Were you trying to spite me, or something...?”

shiro.

Objectively, Shiro is intimately, personally aware that sometimes death just -- doesn't stick. There is so much in this infinite universe that doesn't work under the rules he'd grown up with and he's learned this, viscerally and viciously, over and over again. But there is something about seeing Adam -- seeing him here, flesh and bone, real, that steals his gravity and leaves him floating. And then he smiles (it lists to the side, just the same way it always has) and Shiro wonders for a feverish second if he's dreaming -- but no, he's never dreamed anything so good as Adam's smile -- so then, maybe he'd never emerged from Black at all and this is the something good at the end of it he'd never dared to hope for.

Except. The cup is warm in his hands and his heart is thundering in his chest and he burns, vibrant and alive, and reality starts to bleed in around the edges. That's Adam's voice, short and crisp and laced with a kind of humor that seeks his own out like two hands more comfortable holding each other than being any other way. Adam's voice calling his white hair and every mistake he's made to task with that glinting smile in his voice -- -- The cup falls from his hands and he barely hears the sound it makes as it splatters across the floor. He'd feel bad if he -- maybe in the future, when his world hasn't narrowed to this singular focus -- himself, Adam, and the distance between them.

"Adam," is all he can manage, breathing the name with all the despair and hope and regret he never let himself think on until it comes back to him in this moment, before his throat locks entirely and he cannot fight the wave that crashes over him and catches him in its momentum, the world blurring under the skewed weight of tears filling his vision as he takes a halting step forward, then another, and then he knows, he knows that Adam should probably still hate him -- that he doesn't deserve any of this and that it's probably not him that Adam wants to see anymore, be held by anymore, but he can't -- he can't fight it as two trembling strides become something like a run and he's reaching out please, just for a second, just let me have this just once, I promise I don't need anything more than that flesh arm wrapping around the other's middle, other awkward and unsure of how to how hold him and settling for placing the hand on his shoulder.

adam.

It happens a little too fast for the fact that Adam thought (he has no idea why) that Takashi would stay where he was. It’s the shock of him being alive, it must be, why else —?

Coffee splatters all across the stones, and Adam finds himself in an embrace he almost forgot the feeling of. One he dreamed of plenty of times after Kerberos, in daydreams and real ones, in versions of events where Takashi did not leave and ones when he did not leave with that being the last thing Adam told him. (Sometimes even ones where Adam went with him, but. He’s not a hero like Takashi. He’s just a soldier. Now not even that, probably. He loves space, too, but — it’s different.)

It’s too good, almost, but he’ll take the moment and deal with what comes after when it comes. One arm mirrors Takashi’s, circling his back, and the other — well. That’s an arm that doesn’t connect, and Adam doesn’t know enough of it to go anywhere near what feels like a field between the shoulder and the attachment. He doesn’t want to do anything that might do Takashi any harm somehow. Except, an artificial palm is already on Adam’s shoulder, and he can’t hug Takashi on that side anyway, not at the same time, so he just huffs a little, breathless laugh, “This is — weird, where do I,” and then he realizes he’s crying too, and it doesn’t matter, so he just puts his palm on Takashi’s hip and pulls him closer with it.

There are so many things he wants to say. Sooner or later he’ll have to pick a starting point. But maybe — maybe it’s okay to just have this moment exactly the way it is. While it lasts.

shiro.

As much as he could tell himself that it would perfectly acceptable for Adam to push him away and claim a space that Shiro has no right to, when he doesn't Shiro burns with everything he's never let himself entertain -- the knowledge that it's as much for Adam's sake as his own that he'd be ready for that rejection, the realization of how thoroughly it would undo him to find him alive and still unwilling no matter how much Adam has the right to not want this. To not want him.

Then his hand is on his hip and Shiro finds that his body won't allow merely his eyes to cloud with tears -- his chest rattles and he heaves a sob, holding on tighter, pointedly and mercifully not thinking about what happens when this moment is over and it goes away because -- he'll be good about it. Just this once. That's all he could ever ask for --

His face has found the slope of Adam's neck and at the fumbling, he finds himself laughing through the wracking breaths. "Anywhere, I don't care --" There is something -- not quite right about the way Adam holds him (holds him) back but all of it is a little not right and Shiro can't -- he can't spend the energy figuring it out when he needs to rememorize the curve of Adam's neck and the span of his waist.