[ "There's nothing I can do." Not so long ago, he had said these very words in a very similar situation. And soon after that, he had realized what he had actually wanted from Maria all those years ago, what he's actually been missing since he left her. "I want to go up with you too."
It's an echo again, like all the one's he's felt before between them, except this one is more like an earthquake. ]
Can I tell you what I want? [ He asks but he doesn't wait for an answer, pressing on before his thoughts catch up with his feelings. ]
I want you to live. I don't care if it's impossible by the laws of magic, shinsu, this world, your world, my world or any other world. I'll figure out a way, I'll make one, destroy everything to create something new, break any rules I have to and write new ones.
[ It's delivered unfalteringly, with the kind of conviction and determination you either admire or cower from. Is it insane? Yes, but right now in this moment he's accepted that this is his life now, so he doesn't care anymore.
And then there is a pause, because for all of what he's just said, he actually doesn't know what to do with the last part. Those words have never been offered to him before, let alone like this. First there was the King of Zahard and then there was Rachel. It's never mattered before to him that there's always been someone else, and it wouldn't have mattered to him here either. ]
If you want me to stay by your side...I'll stay. I'd like that, I want that too. [ quietly, with a tremble on his lips and fingertips, shaky in his breath, though he pushes through it.
and then louder, because this isn't the frightening part to him at all.]
But I'm not going to accept that this end is here.
[ As Aguero speaks, Tatara's eyes widen slowly, awed. He's drawn in, transfixed by his brilliance. Is it fire? A blaze so brilliant it burns a hot azure? He knows his dear boyfriend doesn't like the lightning comparison, but he thinks that a part of analogy must be correct (though he'll keep that to himself, despite how it feels in his heart). He feels the heat and is drawn into the colors more than the words themselves.
Because he doesn't know what to do with the declaration. He doesn't know what to do when someone looks him in the eye and tells him they're willing to fight the fabric of all realities for him for his continued survival. Especially when he himself knew the warnings of his own fate, but chose to walk into the fires for his king regardless. He's known Kusanagi's nagging, he's known Mikoto's gruff grunts of approval, he's known Anna's requests to do activities, but nothing...nothing like this. He's never known a love like this.
(Is that what it is, though? Is he arrogant to assign what he recognizes as care as "love?" Is it wrong of him to be putting emotions in the other's mouth just so he can say "me, too?")
Would Aguero be disappointed if he said no? Is Tatara capable of changing his heart and mind on the matter? Is this something they need to figure out right now, when they're just learning each other and their time is ticking? Tatara doesn't know the answers to any of these, but one thing is for certain: the way he hears the tremble in Aguero's voice puts pain in his heart.
He doesn't really know the names of the feelings twisting and knotting up inside of his stomach, his throat. He reaches with his own shaky hand to rest it gently on Aguero's leg.
His voice quavers, ]
Would you be mad at me if I told you...I'm okay with this being the end?
[ His eyes are wide and damp with the threat of tears. He hates seeing Aguero this upset, he decides. He told himself he'd do anything for the smiles he saw on his lips on that one warm, golden afternoon. But what can he do, when there's an honest part of him that still cannot imagine a life without his king? ]
Edited (i deleted a paragraph but then realized i still need it) 2024-05-14 14:44 (UTC)
[ They shouldn't be having this talk right now, he decides. And he shouldn't be here. The reasons for that are a maelstrom of thoughts, feelings, raw emotion, though right now they feel foreign to his ear, to his thoughts, to his heart. His voice was trembling before but now he's utterly still, quiet, fathomless.
He tries to think back to what he wants and it's all horribly incongruent right now. Khun Eduan, Maria, Baam, Tatara. He has no idea how they'd fit together and they're really probably not supposed to, but this is probably part and parcel of going insane.
He wonders about missing the opportunity to warn Tatara about how he is. But then again, did he really warn Baam? What would Baam think if he knew what exactly he had planned for Rachel? What would Baam think if he had told him that it was his fault that Rachel broke both her legs and her ability to walk for life? Well, that's why he doesn't say those things. He thinks he's been trying to get better, but maybe he's still exactly the same. He did lie to Tatara on that sunny afternoon day after all.
He wishes he could scream and yell, maybe even cry. He wishes he could reach out, because that part of him underneath it all hurts and has been hurting since he saw the recording. It wants to give comfort and it wants to be comforted.
He wants to leave, not out of a self-defense, but simply because if there's no reason for him to be here, why would he be? He's logical to a fault and searching for what he doesn't understand about himself even if he feels like he won't ever reach it.
But he doesn't move, because of the almost now silent whisper of being wanted here, next to his boyfriend. (What a foreign word in this moment, but he manages to keep a grip on it if only barely) His eyes flit to the hand on his leg, physical proof that he hadn't imagined that or all the other things they've shared between them. ]
I don't know. [ There's so many things he doesn't know, about them, about what time they have left here, about what's unraveling back home while he's no longer there to keep the group together.
He really can't answer them now at all, can he? Ahh, how stupid. ]
I don't know can be your answer too. [ It's not a question of whether he could bear it, he knows he could, his entire life as Khun Aguero Agnis has been bearing what no one else could. No, it's a question of whether he wants to.
He takes a breath, trying to find anything at all that he can feel. ]
I'll ask you again. What do you want right now, Tatara? Here, as we are right now, on this couch.
[ He feels like ice. Tatara in his intuition feels something different about him and he isn't sure what to make of it. He's seen Khun make all sorts of faces in these past few weeks, from smug to flustered and everything in between, and he's found joy in them all. But this one might be new. There's distance, now, and his heart reaches over the gap and for him.
How weird, he thinks. This isn't something he thought he was capable of.
His hand shifts, because he isn't sure if it belongs on his leg right now, and it settles on the couch between them. ]
I want...
[ Words spill from him before he can even think of an answer. Like most of what he does in life. He never second guesses, because he always trusts in his impulses. And are impulses not just wants manifested, given no second thought?
This should be easy for him, then. He reaches for the unformed sunspots in his mind and molds them into words. ]
I want you to know everything about me. [ He says this quietly. To be a part of Aguero, and carried on into the future that way. ] I want to know everything about you. I want to love your tears and your laughter and I want to record all the faces you make and I want to show them to all the world to see. I want to fly on your lighthouse again and I want to see the aurora in the North and watch the sunset on the beaches to the West, but with you.
[ Little joys. Every day isn't going to be easy but he has a feeling, in his gut, that they'll be happy so long as he has Aguero by his side. ]
I don't know what will happen, after this. I don't know what decision you'll make about me, and I can't control that.
[ He knows he's asking a lot already. He tilts his head against the back of the couch. He has no idea if he'll like anything he says here, but it's true. The whims of someone who lives on impulse—what value are they to someone who plans meticulously? He studies Aguero's face and he realizes he can't quite see him past the tears pooling in his eyes.
Maybe he's scared, a little, that he'll be unhappy with this answer. ]
But I want you to know how happy I am that I'm with you. And I...don't think I want to change that.
[ If you had asked Aguero to imagine what the answer would be, it wouldn't have been anything like this. For someone who's content with leading the lights he's bound himself to towards their goals, it's unimaginable to be that goal. It's not that he's never been needed, but he's never once in his entire life been needed like this. What a weird feeling to be wished for like this.
...feeling?
Ah.
That's been the difference all along. And that's the difference now. Muddied, buried, frosted over with ice he was both shaped and born with, but still there. His head hurts. His heart hurts.
He's moving as soon as he feels it, placing one hand over Tatara's in between them. There's a look in this moment, Don't move, stay, that he can't voice. And then slowly, gently, he reaches out to brush a finger against the other's cheek. Will he catch any tears? He can still see them anyway and he knows they're his fault. ]
Sorry. I was upset. [ A shake of his head, brushing off the frost. ] I am upset.
I want to cherish you and protect you. I've wanted to the moment I realized I liked you. And I feel like I've already failed. [ With the tape and then with that follow-up, it was too much. It hit him in all of the wrong ways, and he'll always have his reflexes even now. ]
And— [ And a lot. There's a lot he's thinking and a lot he can't say, because he doesn't have the words, doesn't understand, or because he's scared, or because this is just who he is. But maybe he can push through some of them. It probably won't be pretty, but- ]
I'm going to ask again, some time. I'm not going to tell you when and I'm not going to tell myself when either.
It won't be soon if you want to know all of me, but it might not be as soon as you know all of that either. I need to know all of you too and it'll be when the time is right, whenever that is. Not like this.
You won't change my mind on what I think. But I don't want to change your mind either. I want you to decide for yourself.
If you still want me, knowing that—I still want you. You make me happy too.
[ if they're still touching, the tremble that follows is worse than the first. throughout all of him, something even he can't escape from. ]
[ Aguero apologizes and Tatara just shakes his head. It's not his fault. He has every right to be upset—to see that footage now, at this point, must feel like cutting away the flower that buds between them before it even has a chance to bloom to its fullest. What does it feel like to be robbed like that?
Tatara has never been very good at thinking in hindsight, because, like Khun, he's always sure of his actions, even if it's in a different way. But he looks at him now, like this, and all he can find are apologies for not saying anything sooner. ]
I'm sorry... [ He says this quietly, not to interrupt, but because he recognizes part of his hurt as his doing. He lifts cheeks in a smile, and the pool of tears spill over. Some, for Aguero.
The longer he talks, the more Tatara leans into him. Everything hurts, more than the gunshot or any other wound he's ever had ever did. He lifts his unoccupied hand to wipe at his face, embarrassed by his tears. His feelings are complicated and he doesn't even understand what some of them are. Maybe Aguero's right—maybe this isn't a conversation to be had after being woken up from a nap. Maybe they can sit down and talk about this properly one day, when Tatara's learned to rest his wings and not always be floating through the air.
In his heart, he knows, that whatever happens, it'll be okay. ]
I think... [ His voice is muffled from talking down, to the couch. ] Whenever it comes up again, I'll be ready for it. I'll have a real answer. I promise.
[ No questions for questions. No "I think"s or "maybe"s or "I don't know"s.
He makes a promise because he knows the weight of it. No consequence will come to him if he breaks it, but he doesn't know how else to show just how much this means to him. Maybe, if there's one thing he should devote himself to in his life after his king, it should be this.
Whatever "this" is.
He lifts his head, smiling despite his tear-stained cheeks. His free hand wraps firmly around the camera. ]
I already feel cherished and protected. You haven't failed anything. [ Aguero wasn't even a thought in his mind when it happened. Neither of them could've known or done anything. ] And I wouldn't change you or your mind for the world. That's why...
[ Isn't that why they're here now, anyway? Tatara will always find himself drawn to the brightest flames, he thinks. ]
...of course I still want you. No matter what happens.
[ He says while not waiting for an acquiescence, pulling Tatara over with his arms, camera, blankets, messy bundle and all. It's a messy embrace (he'll do his best not to break the camera they just fixed), but that's what they are at the moment, aren't they? It's fitting Aguero thinks, in the same way that how they fit together no matter the arrangement is also right.
He sighs and tries not to squeeze too hard as he nestles in closer. Truthfully, he's wanted to do this since he saw the recording. But he's not a person who responds reflexively with soft words or touches, and he's not a person to allow himself comfort just because he wants it. But in this case it's not just him. It's not just him and he's wanted exactly like this. What a feeling that he wants to drown himself in. ]
It's okay, I'm still not mad. And I'll hold you to it, just like I'm holding you now and until then.
[ The after is foggy, but there will be some kind of lights to guide the way. It's not like he can stop or go backward anymore, and that realization, that acceptance, finally snaps something into place. ]
[ The camera is sturdy enough; Tatara cradles it as he leans into Aguero's embrace. He buries his face into the crook of his neck, and he doesn't particularly care how messy the hug is, where any of his limbs end up. Aguero himself may as well be his blanket, because the warmth he feels in his chest is new. He's the only new factor, so it makes sense that it's a gift from him. Right?
A free hand wraps around Aguero's middle, clinging to him, holding him close. Uncharacteristically, he clings to this moment, because somewhere in his heart he realizes the significance of this moment. The third time's the charm—Tatara feels something change in him once again, and he doesn't think he can go back to who he was before.
He chuckles quietly. ] It'd be nice...to stay in your arms like this until then.
[ A thought drifts through his mind on a dandelion seed, and takes root. The words form in his mind, and he holds his breath at the realization. His lips part, and he almost speaks it.
But nerves win out in the end. He exhales, unsteady, and hugs him tighter. ]
...Thank you, Aguero. I don't...want you to hurt because of me.
[ He wishes he had told him himself, but ah, well. It's happened, and he can't change the past.
At least, now, he feels that much closer to him. ]
[ It's mostly a joke but Aguero knows he's capable of it with how he feels right now. Normally he's not possessive, at least in this specific way—always placing what he treasures high on a shelf or locked away and kept at a distance. Here, breathing in Tatara, feeling him on his skin and feeling his warmth, distance isn't a real word anymore. And he's beginning to think it's impossible for him to resist anything his boyfriend asks of him.
And as for his fellow Wizard and the Great Calamity and the rest of this world? Well, they can deal. That's the kind of person he is, though now it's him and Tatara both. It's been that way for a while but it's something else to finally accept it.
He places a kiss where he can reach in reply; it's kinder than his words would be, because Aguero knows that feelings like this and hurt are an inevitability. Not that he minds, and in truth it might have been part of what he's been searching for. ]
[ Tatara grins, the smile on his face, the arms around him doing quite a bit of work to lifting the melancholy and uncertainty in him. He wouldn't mind staying like this until the end of time. His time. But...
Mm, not thinking about that right now.
At the kiss, he lifts his head, but only just enough to smile lightly at Aguero. Ah, how full his heart feels when he looks at him. ]
And I can't wait to know all of you.
[ He wiggles an arm out of the hold, just so he can lift his hand and lightly tap Aguero on his nose. ]
[ And the smile on Tatara's face grows brighter in turn. Yeah. He looks better like that. ]
Anything? Mmm... [ The mischief twinkles in his eyes, but only for a brief moment. ]
I've had a lot of near-death experiences. People didn't like the guys I worked with, and I was an easy target. So I've been stalked, chased, shot at, stabbed—almost—lots of times...
[ He survived most of those. But, well. ]
And... [ Let's see. What else can he be honest about. ] Oh. Jing Yuan asked me out, but I turned him down because I liked you already. [ Just getting that out there. ] Then...
[ That's not it, is it? For a brief moment, his heart hurts for a different reason. He pauses, because it's hard to talk. ]
Before you... Before this world, [ in his old life, ] there was someone else.
[ His tone is distant, like he's talking about someone from a dream long ago. ]
[ Aguero listens and for each time his boyfriend mentions a different type of near death experience, he gets poked in the ribs. One, two, three, four, five for good measure. He really isn't surprised to find out that Tatara is drawn to danger like a butterfly is drawn to flowers. Still it pulls a sigh out of him weary but soft.
...the next bit though is unexpected, his blue eyes wide and nonplussed momentarily. Asked him out? Heh. There's a not quite laugh, a shade amused and something else. ]
Well, I can see why. [ To both he means. ] But all's fair in love and war, except I don't play fair.
[ If the playing went as far as alligator soap bubbles because this has all been from his heart, even if it took him a long time to realize it. He doesn't say as much, but maybe the light kiss he places on the other's forehead, little more than a tickle says as much. ]
[ It's a quick kiss, because he is listening and he catches the change in tone right away. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but if Tatara looks up at him, he'll find that he's smiling.
He remembers what Mikaela told him weeks ago, but he also knows that light attracts colors, shadows, and everything else in between. It even attracts someone like Aguero himself, after all. ]
We share that too, everything except the being asked out part. [ It's light but not blithe, a strand of gossamer; Aguero tracing stars with his fingers where they've come to rest. ]
Maria and Baam. I made Maria a princess and then saw her off. And Baam—I told you what happened to him.
[ All right, but the poke at his ribs does cause Tatara to flinch with each poke. Each flinch bigger than the last, before he eventually twitches and swats Aguero's hand away with a quiet laugh and a stop. Were you looking for his ticklish spots? There's one!
Still, he calms with the kiss to his forehead, and he goes back to leaning his head on Aguero's shoulder. Tatara watches him, warm eyes soft, as he speaks. Though it seems obvious, considering they led their own lives before this, it is nice to know Aguero was loved, in one way or another, before coming here. ]
You did. [ His voice, too, is soft, caring. In a quiet moment of thought, he remembers what Aguero told him, all those weeks ago (was it even that long ago?), and things begin to quietly slot into place. The look on his face when he came in here, the ferocity of his resolve, his upset...
Tatara reaches to gently press his fingers against Aguero's opposite cheek, coaxing him to face him, however awkward the angle. He smiles because he sympathizes. ]
That would make you and my king the same. [ Having lost someone dear to them, tragically and without warning. Arrogantly, he assumes he means as much to Mikoto as Baam does to Aguero, but what is he if not arrogant in such a self-unaware manner? ]
Tell me more about him. He liked the stars, didn't he?
[ Well he wasn't looking for ticklish spots, but he tucks that knowledge away for another time. (There's no sorry because he's not, but he does offer a quick nuzzle.) Aguero has no problem shifting to look at Tatara properly either, he never does, even in this messy bundle that they currently are.
Kings and princesses...it all makes sense, even if he's never heard Tatara refer to anyone else like that before. ]
He did. He thought he did, but I'm sure he would have loved them. It was his dream to see the real stars above the Tower one day. [ This explains his habit of stargazing nightly, even if it's only for a few minutes. And why his mana area took no time at all to find. ]
No matter how many times I told him, he never realized that he was a star himself. Bright, kind, wanting to look out for everyone even though he had nothing himself. Attracting people, attracting trouble, believing in the impossible—that was Baam.
[ He had a little princess, too. Maybe he'll talk about her someday.
A small, content smile crosses his lips. He thinks of the stars, what it must be like to want something so real, be motivated by that desire alone. Maybe it isn't so bad to have dreams, he thinks. He just wanted to make Mikoto into a star—instead, he created a supernova.
(He'll still wonder if he jinxed it somehow.) ]
People like that are rare. [ There's a light chuckle in his voice, fingers gently brushing Aguero's cheek, feeling the texture on his own skin. ] I think, even if he never realized it, he was lucky to have you. And you were lucky to have him.
[ A feeling he's had before wells in his chest, and the impulse tumbles out of his mouth before he realizes what he's saying. Before he realizes he's said similar before and was turned down. Still, he smiles, full of admiration and adoration. ]
I wish I could be something like that to you one day.
[ Aguero agrees; they are rare, and it makes him feel some way about his luck that he's managed to come across three of them in his relatively short life. He doesn't fault neither Maria or Baam though for either never realizing what he could offer them or reciprocating properly. For Aguero it was enough to simply be useful rather than appreciated, even if that's a rather cold way to put it. But he is ice deep down, even if he is ice that reaches for warmth, a spark, so he can become lightning.
Tatara's smile begets his own, clear blue attentive and then bemused. Wish? He frees an arm to cup his hand under his boyfriends chin, so their colors can meet directly. ]
Tatara—you already are. [ Easily, without hesitation. Despite everything he's felt in the past day, he's more sure of that than ever. The shape of his boyfriend in his arms is no longer fuzzy, even if he still feels like he might slip through his fingers. ]
[ Tatara moves easily under Aguero's direction, something about his touch leaving him malleable, so receptive to everything he has to offer. He gazes into blue, and his heart aches at the look on his face, but not in a way he would think jealous or envious of the people already in Aguero's life. He's happy here, with his wishes, with the knowledge he has of his boyfriend's past.
Except he isn't expecting what's coming.
...Already?
The word pierces his heart, and a warmth so dear and precious to him spreads through his chest, his limbs; they settle on his cheeks in red, and widen his eyes at the realization.
He had scared himself out of it earlier. But this time, the words are so sure, the feelings blooming in his heart certain, and hearing this, he's no longer afraid. ]
[ Every part of what's said next is so unexpected that Aguero isn't sure he's heard properly. Maybe he's gone deaf? His eyes are wide and blue, a sky without clouds. He doesn't understand and his heart contracts tightly in his chest.
Love?
The expression on his face is the same as the one he had at the bath, when Tatara first took his hand and told him the one thing he's always wanted to hear without knowing it. Awestruck, at a loss for words, entirely thrown off balance.
Instinctively his reflex is to pull away (like he did at the bath, pulling back his hand), but that fails him here. If he were going to leave that would have happened some odd time ago when he felt like he was useless and that there was no point being here. But there is a point—Tatara likes him and wants him to say. No, he loves him.
That word makes him feel dumbstruck And so very warm. ]
[ His mind starts catching up to what the core of him knows, an aftershock that reverberates in all of his bones, a lightning bolt through all of his nerves. Love? Of course he knows what love is. He's even heard it said off handedly to him before, but not in a serious way. Never once like this.
The warmth in his chest spreads like a wildfire, cheeks flush and a brigther red than even the kisses of the sun in a desert oasis. "Is that what this is?" He asks himself dumbly. Aguero has never once considered that his desire and drive to do anything, to do the impossible for the people he cherishes is love.
Ahhhh.
It's not wrong or he would have rejected it already, which means—
Tatara is a blossom of fireworks, not a star. Much too warm, much too bright, someone he can't look away from, someone who blinds him to the rest of the world around him. Someone who puts a real smile on his face, someone who makes him wonder and think of the impossible, someone who makes him feel even though he thought he was both born and raised to be numb.
Is that why he could never grasp the shape he was looking for, because it was an intangible wonder, a burst of light and fire to begin with? ]
[ A thought for later because right now he feels like he's the one exploding into glittery pieces across the night sky. He's never once not faced his feelings head on, but this is too much so he—buries himself in the crook of his boyfriend's neck.
[ The expression is familiar in his memory, bathed, metaphorically, in a warm sepia. He wonders if that's because something changes in Aguero, and he wonders if he makes similar faces when Aguero changes him. If Aguero looks at the little expressions on his face like he does, and maps them to memory—
The silence doesn't scare him. He says it because it's true, and he's certain, and he's read between the lines of Aguero's words and he sees the same feeling returned. Because why would anyone declare war against the fabric of reality itself, if not because of love?
Aguero folds into him and his hand easily slips from his cheek to cradle the back of his head. Tatara keeps him there nestled against him, just as he presses his head against his. Why is it that, even though they're tangled together like this, it doesn't feel close enough? His heart aches in a way he's never felt before and all he wants is to hold him to his soul and melt into him.
Is this what it feels like? It's so...intense. He can barely contain his own heart beating in his chest and he feels like he's going to explode and scatter like fireworks in the night sky.
For a moment, he isn't sure if he's going to laugh or cry, but laughter wins out in the end. He holds Aguero tighter, and it's only after a lengthy moment of silence does he finally say something. ]
I guess... [ His voice is hoarse, for some reason. From what? ] That makes me just as lucky, too.
[ It explains all his thoughts, his feelings, and oh how hard it is to contain. ]
[ (Aguero feels lucky too, but this isn't about him. At least to him, anyway. And as for glad, he sailed past that quite a long time ago. There's no word for what he feels right now, or maybe there's just that one. )
He still doesn't know what way is up and his heart is still thundering in his chest, but Aguero shifts back a little so he can look at his boyfriend rather than melt into him. His face is still as red and pink as the sunbeams of dawn. Curiously there's a note of purple too, a light lavender dusting the blue of his eyes; faint enough to be a trick of the light (what time is it anymore?) or maybe a reflection off their matching earrings, though it isn't quite the right shade to be that. ]
Tatara. I won't let you forget now that I know. [ "That I love you."
Words he can't say again quite yet, but that he can press between their lips and their tongues if allowed. ]
[ All of Aguero's colors are beautiful. His hair, the sunrise on his face, his eyes—his eyes. If there are any wonders in this world, Tatara thinks his eyes deserve to be one of them. Recorded in his tome for all of time to remember.
He can't finish his thought, though, because soon his eyes fall shut and they are connected yet again, in another way. But the way he kisses him, like this—how could he forget? He feels the love in everything he does, and it just serves to fuel his motivation to show the same, or more, in turn.
He throws his arms around him in a tight hold, camcorder forgotten (but still safe). He kisses him back and feels the warmth of their tangle and decides that maybe, he wouldn't mind if this was his forever.
For a brief, brief moment, he feels like he doesn't have enough time left to show Aguero just how much he loves him. ]
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It's an echo again, like all the one's he's felt before between them, except this one is more like an earthquake. ]
Can I tell you what I want? [ He asks but he doesn't wait for an answer, pressing on before his thoughts catch up with his feelings. ]
I want you to live. I don't care if it's impossible by the laws of magic, shinsu, this world, your world, my world or any other world. I'll figure out a way, I'll make one, destroy everything to create something new, break any rules I have to and write new ones.
[ It's delivered unfalteringly, with the kind of conviction and determination you either admire or cower from. Is it insane? Yes, but right now in this moment he's accepted that this is his life now, so he doesn't care anymore.
And then there is a pause, because for all of what he's just said, he actually doesn't know what to do with the last part. Those words have never been offered to him before, let alone like this. First there was the King of Zahard and then there was Rachel. It's never mattered before to him that there's always been someone else, and it wouldn't have mattered to him here either. ]
If you want me to stay by your side...I'll stay. I'd like that, I want that too. [ quietly, with a tremble on his lips and fingertips, shaky in his breath, though he pushes through it.
and then louder, because this isn't the frightening part to him at all.]
But I'm not going to accept that this end is here.
no subject
Because he doesn't know what to do with the declaration. He doesn't know what to do when someone looks him in the eye and tells him they're willing to fight the fabric of all realities for him for his continued survival. Especially when he himself knew the warnings of his own fate, but chose to walk into the fires for his king regardless. He's known Kusanagi's nagging, he's known Mikoto's gruff grunts of approval, he's known Anna's requests to do activities, but nothing...nothing like this. He's never known a love like this.
(Is that what it is, though? Is he arrogant to assign what he recognizes as care as "love?" Is it wrong of him to be putting emotions in the other's mouth just so he can say "me, too?")
Would Aguero be disappointed if he said no? Is Tatara capable of changing his heart and mind on the matter? Is this something they need to figure out right now, when they're just learning each other and their time is ticking? Tatara doesn't know the answers to any of these, but one thing is for certain: the way he hears the tremble in Aguero's voice puts pain in his heart.
He doesn't really know the names of the feelings twisting and knotting up inside of his stomach, his throat. He reaches with his own shaky hand to rest it gently on Aguero's leg.
His voice quavers, ]
Would you be mad at me if I told you...I'm okay with this being the end?
[ His eyes are wide and damp with the threat of tears. He hates seeing Aguero this upset, he decides. He told himself he'd do anything for the smiles he saw on his lips on that one warm, golden afternoon. But what can he do, when there's an honest part of him that still cannot imagine a life without his king? ]
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He tries to think back to what he wants and it's all horribly incongruent right now. Khun Eduan, Maria, Baam, Tatara. He has no idea how they'd fit together and they're really probably not supposed to, but this is probably part and parcel of going insane.
He wonders about missing the opportunity to warn Tatara about how he is. But then again, did he really warn Baam? What would Baam think if he knew what exactly he had planned for Rachel? What would Baam think if he had told him that it was his fault that Rachel broke both her legs and her ability to walk for life? Well, that's why he doesn't say those things. He thinks he's been trying to get better, but maybe he's still exactly the same. He did lie to Tatara on that sunny afternoon day after all.
He wishes he could scream and yell, maybe even cry. He wishes he could reach out, because that part of him underneath it all hurts and has been hurting since he saw the recording. It wants to give comfort and it wants to be comforted.
He wants to leave, not out of a self-defense, but simply because if there's no reason for him to be here, why would he be? He's logical to a fault and searching for what he doesn't understand about himself even if he feels like he won't ever reach it.
But he doesn't move, because of the almost now silent whisper of being wanted here, next to his boyfriend. (What a foreign word in this moment, but he manages to keep a grip on it if only barely) His eyes flit to the hand on his leg, physical proof that he hadn't imagined that or all the other things they've shared between them. ]
I don't know. [ There's so many things he doesn't know, about them, about what time they have left here, about what's unraveling back home while he's no longer there to keep the group together.
He really can't answer them now at all, can he? Ahh, how stupid. ]
I don't know can be your answer too. [ It's not a question of whether he could bear it, he knows he could, his entire life as Khun Aguero Agnis has been bearing what no one else could. No, it's a question of whether he wants to.
He takes a breath, trying to find anything at all that he can feel. ]
I'll ask you again. What do you want right now, Tatara? Here, as we are right now, on this couch.
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How weird, he thinks. This isn't something he thought he was capable of.
His hand shifts, because he isn't sure if it belongs on his leg right now, and it settles on the couch between them. ]
I want...
[ Words spill from him before he can even think of an answer. Like most of what he does in life. He never second guesses, because he always trusts in his impulses. And are impulses not just wants manifested, given no second thought?
This should be easy for him, then. He reaches for the unformed sunspots in his mind and molds them into words. ]
I want you to know everything about me. [ He says this quietly. To be a part of Aguero, and carried on into the future that way. ] I want to know everything about you. I want to love your tears and your laughter and I want to record all the faces you make and I want to show them to all the world to see. I want to fly on your lighthouse again and I want to see the aurora in the North and watch the sunset on the beaches to the West, but with you.
[ Little joys. Every day isn't going to be easy but he has a feeling, in his gut, that they'll be happy so long as he has Aguero by his side. ]
I don't know what will happen, after this. I don't know what decision you'll make about me, and I can't control that.
[ He knows he's asking a lot already. He tilts his head against the back of the couch. He has no idea if he'll like anything he says here, but it's true. The whims of someone who lives on impulse—what value are they to someone who plans meticulously? He studies Aguero's face and he realizes he can't quite see him past the tears pooling in his eyes.
Maybe he's scared, a little, that he'll be unhappy with this answer. ]
But I want you to know how happy I am that I'm with you. And I...don't think I want to change that.
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...feeling?
Ah.
That's been the difference all along. And that's the difference now. Muddied, buried, frosted over with ice he was both shaped and born with, but still there. His head hurts. His heart hurts.
He's moving as soon as he feels it, placing one hand over Tatara's in between them. There's a look in this moment, Don't move, stay, that he can't voice. And then slowly, gently, he reaches out to brush a finger against the other's cheek. Will he catch any tears? He can still see them anyway and he knows they're his fault. ]
Sorry. I was upset. [ A shake of his head, brushing off the frost. ] I am upset.
I want to cherish you and protect you. I've wanted to the moment I realized I liked you. And I feel like I've already failed. [ With the tape and then with that follow-up, it was too much. It hit him in all of the wrong ways, and he'll always have his reflexes even now. ]
And— [ And a lot. There's a lot he's thinking and a lot he can't say, because he doesn't have the words, doesn't understand, or because he's scared, or because this is just who he is. But maybe he can push through some of them. It probably won't be pretty, but- ]
I'm going to ask again, some time. I'm not going to tell you when and I'm not going to tell myself when either.
It won't be soon if you want to know all of me, but it might not be as soon as you know all of that either. I need to know all of you too and it'll be when the time is right, whenever that is. Not like this.
You won't change my mind on what I think. But I don't want to change your mind either. I want you to decide for yourself.
If you still want me, knowing that—I still want you. You make me happy too.
[ if they're still touching, the tremble that follows is worse than the first. throughout all of him, something even he can't escape from. ]
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Tatara has never been very good at thinking in hindsight, because, like Khun, he's always sure of his actions, even if it's in a different way. But he looks at him now, like this, and all he can find are apologies for not saying anything sooner. ]
I'm sorry... [ He says this quietly, not to interrupt, but because he recognizes part of his hurt as his doing. He lifts cheeks in a smile, and the pool of tears spill over. Some, for Aguero.
The longer he talks, the more Tatara leans into him. Everything hurts, more than the gunshot or any other wound he's ever had ever did. He lifts his unoccupied hand to wipe at his face, embarrassed by his tears. His feelings are complicated and he doesn't even understand what some of them are. Maybe Aguero's right—maybe this isn't a conversation to be had after being woken up from a nap. Maybe they can sit down and talk about this properly one day, when Tatara's learned to rest his wings and not always be floating through the air.
In his heart, he knows, that whatever happens, it'll be okay. ]
I think... [ His voice is muffled from talking down, to the couch. ] Whenever it comes up again, I'll be ready for it. I'll have a real answer. I promise.
[ No questions for questions. No "I think"s or "maybe"s or "I don't know"s.
He makes a promise because he knows the weight of it. No consequence will come to him if he breaks it, but he doesn't know how else to show just how much this means to him. Maybe, if there's one thing he should devote himself to in his life after his king, it should be this.
Whatever "this" is.
He lifts his head, smiling despite his tear-stained cheeks. His free hand wraps firmly around the camera. ]
I already feel cherished and protected. You haven't failed anything. [ Aguero wasn't even a thought in his mind when it happened. Neither of them could've known or done anything. ] And I wouldn't change you or your mind for the world. That's why...
[ Isn't that why they're here now, anyway? Tatara will always find himself drawn to the brightest flames, he thinks. ]
...of course I still want you. No matter what happens.
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[ He says while not waiting for an acquiescence, pulling Tatara over with his arms, camera, blankets, messy bundle and all. It's a messy embrace (he'll do his best not to break the camera they just fixed), but that's what they are at the moment, aren't they? It's fitting Aguero thinks, in the same way that how they fit together no matter the arrangement is also right.
He sighs and tries not to squeeze too hard as he nestles in closer. Truthfully, he's wanted to do this since he saw the recording. But he's not a person who responds reflexively with soft words or touches, and he's not a person to allow himself comfort just because he wants it. But in this case it's not just him. It's not just him and he's wanted exactly like this. What a feeling that he wants to drown himself in. ]
It's okay, I'm still not mad. And I'll hold you to it, just like I'm holding you now and until then.
[ The after is foggy, but there will be some kind of lights to guide the way. It's not like he can stop or go backward anymore, and that realization, that acceptance, finally snaps something into place. ]
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A free hand wraps around Aguero's middle, clinging to him, holding him close. Uncharacteristically, he clings to this moment, because somewhere in his heart he realizes the significance of this moment. The third time's the charm—Tatara feels something change in him once again, and he doesn't think he can go back to who he was before.
He chuckles quietly. ] It'd be nice...to stay in your arms like this until then.
[ A thought drifts through his mind on a dandelion seed, and takes root. The words form in his mind, and he holds his breath at the realization. His lips part, and he almost speaks it.
But nerves win out in the end. He exhales, unsteady, and hugs him tighter. ]
...Thank you, Aguero. I don't...want you to hurt because of me.
[ He wishes he had told him himself, but ah, well. It's happened, and he can't change the past.
At least, now, he feels that much closer to him. ]
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[ It's mostly a joke but Aguero knows he's capable of it with how he feels right now. Normally he's not possessive, at least in this specific way—always placing what he treasures high on a shelf or locked away and kept at a distance. Here, breathing in Tatara, feeling him on his skin and feeling his warmth, distance isn't a real word anymore. And he's beginning to think it's impossible for him to resist anything his boyfriend asks of him.
And as for his fellow Wizard and the Great Calamity and the rest of this world? Well, they can deal. That's the kind of person he is, though now it's him and Tatara both. It's been that way for a while but it's something else to finally accept it.
He places a kiss where he can reach in reply; it's kinder than his words would be, because Aguero knows that feelings like this and hurt are an inevitability. Not that he minds, and in truth it might have been part of what he's been searching for. ]
I can't wait to know all of you.
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Mm, not thinking about that right now.
At the kiss, he lifts his head, but only just enough to smile lightly at Aguero. Ah, how full his heart feels when he looks at him. ]
And I can't wait to know all of you.
[ He wiggles an arm out of the hold, just so he can lift his hand and lightly tap Aguero on his nose. ]
Where should we start?
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[ Aguero smiles small, the first real smile on his face in almost a day. ]
Well, since we're here [ he shifts a bit so they can talk better, all the while keeping his snug grip in place. ]
Is there anything else you need to tell me? I think I could forgive anything with you like this.
[ That's a lie because there's really nothing that could get him mad in the first place, oops. ]
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Anything? Mmm... [ The mischief twinkles in his eyes, but only for a brief moment. ]
I've had a lot of near-death experiences. People didn't like the guys I worked with, and I was an easy target. So I've been stalked, chased, shot at, stabbed—almost—lots of times...
[ He survived most of those. But, well. ]
And... [ Let's see. What else can he be honest about. ] Oh. Jing Yuan asked me out, but I turned him down because I liked you already. [ Just getting that out there. ] Then...
[ That's not it, is it? For a brief moment, his heart hurts for a different reason. He pauses, because it's hard to talk. ]
Before you... Before this world, [ in his old life, ] there was someone else.
[ His tone is distant, like he's talking about someone from a dream long ago. ]
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...the next bit though is unexpected, his blue eyes wide and nonplussed momentarily. Asked him out? Heh. There's a not quite laugh, a shade amused and something else. ]
Well, I can see why. [ To both he means. ] But all's fair in love and war, except I don't play fair.
[ If the playing went as far as alligator soap bubbles because this has all been from his heart, even if it took him a long time to realize it. He doesn't say as much, but maybe the light kiss he places on the other's forehead, little more than a tickle says as much. ]
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He remembers what Mikaela told him weeks ago, but he also knows that light attracts colors, shadows, and everything else in between. It even attracts someone like Aguero himself, after all. ]
We share that too, everything except the being asked out part. [ It's light but not blithe, a strand of gossamer; Aguero tracing stars with his fingers where they've come to rest. ]
Maria and Baam. I made Maria a princess and then saw her off. And Baam—I told you what happened to him.
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Still, he calms with the kiss to his forehead, and he goes back to leaning his head on Aguero's shoulder. Tatara watches him, warm eyes soft, as he speaks. Though it seems obvious, considering they led their own lives before this, it is nice to know Aguero was loved, in one way or another, before coming here. ]
You did. [ His voice, too, is soft, caring. In a quiet moment of thought, he remembers what Aguero told him, all those weeks ago (was it even that long ago?), and things begin to quietly slot into place. The look on his face when he came in here, the ferocity of his resolve, his upset...
Tatara reaches to gently press his fingers against Aguero's opposite cheek, coaxing him to face him, however awkward the angle. He smiles because he sympathizes. ]
That would make you and my king the same. [ Having lost someone dear to them, tragically and without warning. Arrogantly, he assumes he means as much to Mikoto as Baam does to Aguero, but what is he if not arrogant in such a self-unaware manner? ]
Tell me more about him. He liked the stars, didn't he?
[ Or something like that. ]
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Kings and princesses...it all makes sense, even if he's never heard Tatara refer to anyone else like that before. ]
He did. He thought he did, but I'm sure he would have loved them. It was his dream to see the real stars above the Tower one day. [ This explains his habit of stargazing nightly, even if it's only for a few minutes. And why his mana area took no time at all to find. ]
No matter how many times I told him, he never realized that he was a star himself. Bright, kind, wanting to look out for everyone even though he had nothing himself. Attracting people, attracting trouble, believing in the impossible—that was Baam.
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A small, content smile crosses his lips. He thinks of the stars, what it must be like to want something so real, be motivated by that desire alone. Maybe it isn't so bad to have dreams, he thinks. He just wanted to make Mikoto into a star—instead, he created a supernova.
(He'll still wonder if he jinxed it somehow.) ]
People like that are rare. [ There's a light chuckle in his voice, fingers gently brushing Aguero's cheek, feeling the texture on his own skin. ] I think, even if he never realized it, he was lucky to have you. And you were lucky to have him.
[ A feeling he's had before wells in his chest, and the impulse tumbles out of his mouth before he realizes what he's saying. Before he realizes he's said similar before and was turned down. Still, he smiles, full of admiration and adoration. ]
I wish I could be something like that to you one day.
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Tatara's smile begets his own, clear blue attentive and then bemused. Wish? He frees an arm to cup his hand under his boyfriends chin, so their colors can meet directly. ]
Tatara—you already are. [ Easily, without hesitation. Despite everything he's felt in the past day, he's more sure of that than ever. The shape of his boyfriend in his arms is no longer fuzzy, even if he still feels like he might slip through his fingers. ]
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Except he isn't expecting what's coming.
...Already?
The word pierces his heart, and a warmth so dear and precious to him spreads through his chest, his limbs; they settle on his cheeks in red, and widen his eyes at the realization.
He had scared himself out of it earlier. But this time, the words are so sure, the feelings blooming in his heart certain, and hearing this, he's no longer afraid. ]
I love you too, Aguero.
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Love?
The expression on his face is the same as the one he had at the bath, when Tatara first took his hand and told him the one thing he's always wanted to hear without knowing it. Awestruck, at a loss for words, entirely thrown off balance.
Instinctively his reflex is to pull away (like he did at the bath, pulling back his hand), but that fails him here. If he were going to leave that would have happened some odd time ago when he felt like he was useless and that there was no point being here. But there is a point—Tatara likes him and wants him to say. No, he loves him.
That word makes him feel dumbstruck And so very warm. ]
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The warmth in his chest spreads like a wildfire, cheeks flush and a brigther red than even the kisses of the sun in a desert oasis. "Is that what this is?" He asks himself dumbly. Aguero has never once considered that his desire and drive to do anything, to do the impossible for the people he cherishes is love.
Ahhhh.
It's not wrong or he would have rejected it already, which means—
Tatara is a blossom of fireworks, not a star. Much too warm, much too bright, someone he can't look away from, someone who blinds him to the rest of the world around him. Someone who puts a real smile on his face, someone who makes him wonder and think of the impossible, someone who makes him feel even though he thought he was both born and raised to be numb.
Is that why he could never grasp the shape he was looking for, because it was an intangible wonder, a burst of light and fire to begin with? ]
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And then breathes the words across skin. ]
I...do. I love you.
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The silence doesn't scare him. He says it because it's true, and he's certain, and he's read between the lines of Aguero's words and he sees the same feeling returned. Because why would anyone declare war against the fabric of reality itself, if not because of love?
Aguero folds into him and his hand easily slips from his cheek to cradle the back of his head. Tatara keeps him there nestled against him, just as he presses his head against his. Why is it that, even though they're tangled together like this, it doesn't feel close enough? His heart aches in a way he's never felt before and all he wants is to hold him to his soul and melt into him.
Is this what it feels like? It's so...intense. He can barely contain his own heart beating in his chest and he feels like he's going to explode and scatter like fireworks in the night sky.
For a moment, he isn't sure if he's going to laugh or cry, but laughter wins out in the end. He holds Aguero tighter, and it's only after a lengthy moment of silence does he finally say something. ]
I guess... [ His voice is hoarse, for some reason. From what? ] That makes me just as lucky, too.
[ It explains all his thoughts, his feelings, and oh how hard it is to contain. ]
I'm glad.
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He still doesn't know what way is up and his heart is still thundering in his chest, but Aguero shifts back a little so he can look at his boyfriend rather than melt into him. His face is still as red and pink as the sunbeams of dawn. Curiously there's a note of purple too, a light lavender dusting the blue of his eyes; faint enough to be a trick of the light (what time is it anymore?) or maybe a reflection off their matching earrings, though it isn't quite the right shade to be that. ]
Tatara. I won't let you forget now that I know. [ "That I love you."
Words he can't say again quite yet, but that he can press between their lips and their tongues if allowed. ]
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He can't finish his thought, though, because soon his eyes fall shut and they are connected yet again, in another way. But the way he kisses him, like this—how could he forget? He feels the love in everything he does, and it just serves to fuel his motivation to show the same, or more, in turn.
He throws his arms around him in a tight hold, camcorder forgotten (but still safe). He kisses him back and feels the warmth of their tangle and decides that maybe, he wouldn't mind if this was his forever.
For a brief, brief moment, he feels like he doesn't have enough time left to show Aguero just how much he loves him. ]
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