yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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metamorphosis2012-01-12 12:33 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-01-12 12:33 pm
Entry tags:
282;
Title: ice-breaker
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: PG
18/265.
The first time Spada wakes up next to Luca, arms looped lazily around his waist and his head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, he feels as if he's just destroyed something beautiful. His stomach twists and he wonders if he's going to be sick; every nerve screams at him to get out of the young Milda's room and not to come back, pretend this didn't happen, and his fingers (once they begin to move, as if waking up from a long sleep) don't stop to settle, drumming and dancing across skin paler than his own. Luca's sound asleep, breath soft and stale, and Spada doesn't know whether he should laugh or get angry at the line of spit running down his chin; he decides to do neither and just wipes it away, shifting back as he does so and letting Luca rest against the pillow instead of his chest. He casually wipes himself off with the blankets and slips out of bed, feeling musty and gross with dried sweat, and hesitates to put on his clothes, wondering if he should just slip into the bath and take a shower instead; he doesn't get to choose because Luca wakes up, shifting upwards with a stretch and a small yawn, blankets pooling about his naked waist and fuck, Spada's torn between sickness and a smile. He goes with the latter naturally (naturally) and leans over to brush a kiss on that silver hair, fingers tracing ghostly lines down Luca's shoulder.
“Was wonderin' when you'd wake up. Good mornin'.” And it's so easy to say, to make the words not shake like he feels they should, to move through the soft teases, although it's harder (a little jarring) to try and be gentle with a boy he never thought he'd want to be gentle to. Luca just yawns and shrugs in response, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands, and blinks blearily, furrowing his brow at Spada and squinting a little, as if to try and tell who he is through the soft tears that come with yawning a little too long; when he focuses and realizes that yes, that's Spada, and he remembers – or seems to remember – last night, his hands crawl soundlessly up to his mouth and stay there, pressed against his lips and eyes wide. Spada knows he's worse off, especially with how he thinks so much, and he hates him a little for it because for once, he'd like to not baby Luca and have to deal with all his bull, and Spada waits for him to say something (because there has to be something, when it's Luca, there's always something) and Luca surprises him by saying nothing except a quiet, “You can use the shower if you'd like.”
And maybe that's what makes it so weird, now, Luca not asking what happened or why or how or any other useless questions like he's prone to do, maybe it's Luca's unnatural quiet in light of recent events that makes Spada lips curl into a frown that he doesn't let Luca see before he sets off to sneak through the Milda house and slip into the shower. The water is warm, nice, inviting; he doesn't want to leave once he feels the water drum on his skin and hears it fill the bath, as loud as a thunderstorm. He can't hear anything but the pounding water, so he jolts a little when he hears someone open the door and he's not a man of modesty by any means but he still checks to see if the curtain's still in place (it is) and takes the time to see who it is. Only Luca, dressed and cleaned, placing a towel and fresh clothes on the sink; he jumps when he realizes Spada's looking at him and he wets his lips before he tries to speak.
“I-- um-- I knocked, but you didn't-- hear it, I guess. Um-- just towels and clothes, I guess, and, um, breakfast is on the table if... if you'd like to stay for it, I guess.”
The offer isn't an unwelcome one (and it would never be; free food is the best kind of food, after all, and while Luca's no head chef he's not that shabby) and Spada nods in response, ducking back into the shower and waiting to hear Luca shuffle out and close the door. He stays in the shower until the water runs cold and then some; he finishes washing and dries himself off, dresses himself in the clothes Luca's laid out for him (surprised when they fit nicely, if a bit too tight, but he's never been one to button all the way up anyway), and heads downstairs. Breakfast is still lukewarm and Luca's sitting by the stove, putting wood into the open chamber and shutting it when he notices Spada's at the table, locking it hurriedly and smiling a little, thin and worried. He stands and brushes the soot from the floor off of his pants, taking two cups and setting them on the table; it's hot coffee, freshly made, and Spada's glad for it, sipping it and wincing when he burns his tongue a little. Luca blows his quietly, sipping it when it cools down a little and drumming his fingernails against the side of the cup, thinking.
“Did we...” he starts, then trails off, biting his bottom lip. Spada rolls his eyes a little, because shouldn't that answer be obvious? So Luca shakes his head and tries again. “Sorry.” is what he manages. And that's typical for him; apologizing when he doesn't need to, and Spada can feel it slip on like a second skin; he grins downs the rest of his coffee, not caring how much it burns, and chuckles.
“Don't apologize, you weren't bad. Kinda obvious that you were a virgin,” and he feels his ears burn a little, just a bit, not enough to count for anything with the way Luca's blushing, “but I didn't expect anythin' big.” He pauses to let the other meaning sink in, the second one hidden far behind his words, and Luca splutters again and leans over to pour his warm coffee in his lap. Spada jumps and curses while Luca laughs behind his hand – and yelps when the plate of eggs and toast gets thrown in his face. The ice broken again, they food fight until the clock rings seven times and Luca smiles, pulling egg out of his hair and sighing; if it weren't for the happy look on his face, he might could fool Spada into thinking that he was upset, but no, there's no way now.
And that's just fine, and while Spada's in the shower (again) Luca washes his clothes and has them laid out on his bed; the moment Spada slips out, Luca slips in, and when he gets out there's clothes laid out for him, too, although Spada's nowhere to be found (though Luca can feel his eyes from the window while he dresses and he's caught between dressing slower and buttoning faster; he makes compromise by pulling on his clothes quick and buttoning slow, but his back is to the window and he smiles when he feels the eyes disappear.
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: PG
18/265.
The first time Spada wakes up next to Luca, arms looped lazily around his waist and his head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, he feels as if he's just destroyed something beautiful. His stomach twists and he wonders if he's going to be sick; every nerve screams at him to get out of the young Milda's room and not to come back, pretend this didn't happen, and his fingers (once they begin to move, as if waking up from a long sleep) don't stop to settle, drumming and dancing across skin paler than his own. Luca's sound asleep, breath soft and stale, and Spada doesn't know whether he should laugh or get angry at the line of spit running down his chin; he decides to do neither and just wipes it away, shifting back as he does so and letting Luca rest against the pillow instead of his chest. He casually wipes himself off with the blankets and slips out of bed, feeling musty and gross with dried sweat, and hesitates to put on his clothes, wondering if he should just slip into the bath and take a shower instead; he doesn't get to choose because Luca wakes up, shifting upwards with a stretch and a small yawn, blankets pooling about his naked waist and fuck, Spada's torn between sickness and a smile. He goes with the latter naturally (naturally) and leans over to brush a kiss on that silver hair, fingers tracing ghostly lines down Luca's shoulder.
“Was wonderin' when you'd wake up. Good mornin'.” And it's so easy to say, to make the words not shake like he feels they should, to move through the soft teases, although it's harder (a little jarring) to try and be gentle with a boy he never thought he'd want to be gentle to. Luca just yawns and shrugs in response, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands, and blinks blearily, furrowing his brow at Spada and squinting a little, as if to try and tell who he is through the soft tears that come with yawning a little too long; when he focuses and realizes that yes, that's Spada, and he remembers – or seems to remember – last night, his hands crawl soundlessly up to his mouth and stay there, pressed against his lips and eyes wide. Spada knows he's worse off, especially with how he thinks so much, and he hates him a little for it because for once, he'd like to not baby Luca and have to deal with all his bull, and Spada waits for him to say something (because there has to be something, when it's Luca, there's always something) and Luca surprises him by saying nothing except a quiet, “You can use the shower if you'd like.”
And maybe that's what makes it so weird, now, Luca not asking what happened or why or how or any other useless questions like he's prone to do, maybe it's Luca's unnatural quiet in light of recent events that makes Spada lips curl into a frown that he doesn't let Luca see before he sets off to sneak through the Milda house and slip into the shower. The water is warm, nice, inviting; he doesn't want to leave once he feels the water drum on his skin and hears it fill the bath, as loud as a thunderstorm. He can't hear anything but the pounding water, so he jolts a little when he hears someone open the door and he's not a man of modesty by any means but he still checks to see if the curtain's still in place (it is) and takes the time to see who it is. Only Luca, dressed and cleaned, placing a towel and fresh clothes on the sink; he jumps when he realizes Spada's looking at him and he wets his lips before he tries to speak.
“I-- um-- I knocked, but you didn't-- hear it, I guess. Um-- just towels and clothes, I guess, and, um, breakfast is on the table if... if you'd like to stay for it, I guess.”
The offer isn't an unwelcome one (and it would never be; free food is the best kind of food, after all, and while Luca's no head chef he's not that shabby) and Spada nods in response, ducking back into the shower and waiting to hear Luca shuffle out and close the door. He stays in the shower until the water runs cold and then some; he finishes washing and dries himself off, dresses himself in the clothes Luca's laid out for him (surprised when they fit nicely, if a bit too tight, but he's never been one to button all the way up anyway), and heads downstairs. Breakfast is still lukewarm and Luca's sitting by the stove, putting wood into the open chamber and shutting it when he notices Spada's at the table, locking it hurriedly and smiling a little, thin and worried. He stands and brushes the soot from the floor off of his pants, taking two cups and setting them on the table; it's hot coffee, freshly made, and Spada's glad for it, sipping it and wincing when he burns his tongue a little. Luca blows his quietly, sipping it when it cools down a little and drumming his fingernails against the side of the cup, thinking.
“Did we...” he starts, then trails off, biting his bottom lip. Spada rolls his eyes a little, because shouldn't that answer be obvious? So Luca shakes his head and tries again. “Sorry.” is what he manages. And that's typical for him; apologizing when he doesn't need to, and Spada can feel it slip on like a second skin; he grins downs the rest of his coffee, not caring how much it burns, and chuckles.
“Don't apologize, you weren't bad. Kinda obvious that you were a virgin,” and he feels his ears burn a little, just a bit, not enough to count for anything with the way Luca's blushing, “but I didn't expect anythin' big.” He pauses to let the other meaning sink in, the second one hidden far behind his words, and Luca splutters again and leans over to pour his warm coffee in his lap. Spada jumps and curses while Luca laughs behind his hand – and yelps when the plate of eggs and toast gets thrown in his face. The ice broken again, they food fight until the clock rings seven times and Luca smiles, pulling egg out of his hair and sighing; if it weren't for the happy look on his face, he might could fool Spada into thinking that he was upset, but no, there's no way now.
And that's just fine, and while Spada's in the shower (again) Luca washes his clothes and has them laid out on his bed; the moment Spada slips out, Luca slips in, and when he gets out there's clothes laid out for him, too, although Spada's nowhere to be found (though Luca can feel his eyes from the window while he dresses and he's caught between dressing slower and buttoning faster; he makes compromise by pulling on his clothes quick and buttoning slow, but his back is to the window and he smiles when he feels the eyes disappear.