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Title: Three Lives redux
Wordcount: 1148
What: Yuki/Ron with a squinty bit of Ron/Will
Status: finished
Notes: Inspired by this post
In the wee hours of the morning when all was still and all he could hear was the sound of Ronald's steady breathing as he lay next to him, he remembered small things. Minute things. Things like his fingers running through that dual toned hair. Things like those arms wrapped around him and holding him in the cold evening air. But there were other things too. Simple things like the scent of Ronald's cologne and his eyes and a Ronald that seemed younger, far more playful and less weighed down by things he always laughed off as "Just a memory, love, no worries! All done with now!". He knew never to press, never to push the limits of what he could and couldn't ask. It just didn't seem right. If and when he wanted to talk about it, he very well would. For now, they were his to mull over.
They usually came as flashes like they did that night.
He woke up with a start, his hand immediately going to his chest. Again, that nightmare. Again, that same searing pain that ran from his chest to his stomach. It always seemed to feature in those nightmares he'd been having as of late. They were strange things, things that seemed out of place. There was always fire, always pain.. And a type of demon he had never once encountered before. He'd seen demons, oh, he'd seen them. From the most benign coaltar to creatures as dangerous as Amaimon, he'd seen and bested his share of demon but this… this was the kind that they only talked about in textbooks. The kind most other exorcists never lived to talk about. What he could never forget was the fear. It was as if he was a deer caught in the headlights and the oncoming truck was that demon. Then the pain came.
Again, his hand went to his chest.
The pain was usually enough to wake him up from those nightmares.
They were also enough to keep him from going back to sleep.
With a sigh, he reached for his glasses by the bedside table and glanced over his shoulder. Not a peep from Ronald. Good. He needed his sleep, after all. He didn't bother with the lights. The dim glow from the rising sun was enough to illuminate the room with the barest sheen of light, enough for him to make out the tiniest details from the other male's form: the way his shoulders moved from each breath, the way both the golden and chocolate bits in his hair were made messier than usual from sleep, the way his lips parted with each breath. Seeing the reaper like this made his heart ache. It was a different sort of ache. Not unpleasant. Nostalgic. A pang that made him swear he'd seen that somewhere before. He fought the urge to reach out and brush his fingers against Ronald's cheek like he usually did and instead chose to turn his head in the opposite direction, near the bedside table.
As his hand slipped from the bed, his fingertips brushed against what seemed to be a piece of toughened leather. He paused, jerking his hand back before looking over the side of the bed and found that he had accidentally touched what looked to be an old book. His curiosity got the better of him and he found himself sitting up as he picked up the book.
There was wear to the cover: scratches and chips on the corners, chafing where the leather had gone old. "Really." he sighed. "Ronald should know better than to leave something that looked this old just lying around. " Even if he knew it would be better to just slide it back under the bed, curiosity was a far more enticing mistress. What he found between the covers were pictures. Dozens of them. Some had been arranged on the pages like some sort of crude album, others had been slipped in between other pages, perhaps to be filed away for later. Some had gone yellowed and faded, some were done in sepia, some were monochrome, but they all had Ronald in them… and one other person.
He seemed to be a taller, older man… definitely one who seemed to be unwilling to even be included in the photographs, given the dour look on his face. But that was Ronald, after all: a rather hard headed sort who always managed to persuade you to do things his way. And then he heard it:
"Honestly, Ronald. I don't have the time…"
"S'just one photograph, Will. It'll only take a minute."
"Are you aware that we'll have to stay still for half an hour in order to have those photos properly develop?"
"I can stay still! Besides, we've never had a photo taken."
"…Just one photo."
He reeled back, pausing as he placed his hand on the page. What was that? Those voices came in so clearly, almost as if he had witnessed the scene for himself. That was Ronald… his Ronald… but who was Will? He continued to leaf through the album and sure enough, that older man with the piercing eyes seemed to be in every photo. From the older, yellowed photos to what seemed to be the more recent colored shots… but there were subtle differences. His hair seemed different, he seemed shorter in some pictures, taller in others, he seemed more built in some, lighter in others, thinner… but those eyes never changed. They were always so piercing, so sharp…
Eyes much like his.
"D'you remember any of it, Yuki?" he finally heard Ronald ask from beside him.
Yukio turned to see the reaper lying on his side, the smallest teasing smirk playing on his lips. But he couldn't bring himself to return that smile. Instead, he found himself frustrated by it. "Remember?" he asked, shutting the album suddenly. "What am I supposed to remember? What was this?"
The reaper sighed and sat up, taking the album from the boy before leaning against him. "Missed the last page, did you?" he teased, turning to a page that contained a photo of that picture that had been taken just last week during an unplanned dinner date.
"I don't… understand…" Yukio murmured, finding himself absently flipping back to the earlier pages. But his mind wandered back to the nightmare that woke him to start. It seemed so real… and this man seemed familiar to him.
"S'just the past, Yuki… told you… nothing you had to worry about. All done with and all that, eh?" Ronald sighed, looking back up at him.
"...who was he?" the boy finally asked.
"D'you really want me to tell you who you were or d'you want to find out for yourself?" the reaper answered, that same smile holding the barest hint of worry even as he strained to keep it.
Wordcount: 1148
What: Yuki/Ron with a squinty bit of Ron/Will
Status: finished
Notes: Inspired by this post
In the wee hours of the morning when all was still and all he could hear was the sound of Ronald's steady breathing as he lay next to him, he remembered small things. Minute things. Things like his fingers running through that dual toned hair. Things like those arms wrapped around him and holding him in the cold evening air. But there were other things too. Simple things like the scent of Ronald's cologne and his eyes and a Ronald that seemed younger, far more playful and less weighed down by things he always laughed off as "Just a memory, love, no worries! All done with now!". He knew never to press, never to push the limits of what he could and couldn't ask. It just didn't seem right. If and when he wanted to talk about it, he very well would. For now, they were his to mull over.
They usually came as flashes like they did that night.
He woke up with a start, his hand immediately going to his chest. Again, that nightmare. Again, that same searing pain that ran from his chest to his stomach. It always seemed to feature in those nightmares he'd been having as of late. They were strange things, things that seemed out of place. There was always fire, always pain.. And a type of demon he had never once encountered before. He'd seen demons, oh, he'd seen them. From the most benign coaltar to creatures as dangerous as Amaimon, he'd seen and bested his share of demon but this… this was the kind that they only talked about in textbooks. The kind most other exorcists never lived to talk about. What he could never forget was the fear. It was as if he was a deer caught in the headlights and the oncoming truck was that demon. Then the pain came.
Again, his hand went to his chest.
The pain was usually enough to wake him up from those nightmares.
They were also enough to keep him from going back to sleep.
With a sigh, he reached for his glasses by the bedside table and glanced over his shoulder. Not a peep from Ronald. Good. He needed his sleep, after all. He didn't bother with the lights. The dim glow from the rising sun was enough to illuminate the room with the barest sheen of light, enough for him to make out the tiniest details from the other male's form: the way his shoulders moved from each breath, the way both the golden and chocolate bits in his hair were made messier than usual from sleep, the way his lips parted with each breath. Seeing the reaper like this made his heart ache. It was a different sort of ache. Not unpleasant. Nostalgic. A pang that made him swear he'd seen that somewhere before. He fought the urge to reach out and brush his fingers against Ronald's cheek like he usually did and instead chose to turn his head in the opposite direction, near the bedside table.
As his hand slipped from the bed, his fingertips brushed against what seemed to be a piece of toughened leather. He paused, jerking his hand back before looking over the side of the bed and found that he had accidentally touched what looked to be an old book. His curiosity got the better of him and he found himself sitting up as he picked up the book.
There was wear to the cover: scratches and chips on the corners, chafing where the leather had gone old. "Really." he sighed. "Ronald should know better than to leave something that looked this old just lying around. " Even if he knew it would be better to just slide it back under the bed, curiosity was a far more enticing mistress. What he found between the covers were pictures. Dozens of them. Some had been arranged on the pages like some sort of crude album, others had been slipped in between other pages, perhaps to be filed away for later. Some had gone yellowed and faded, some were done in sepia, some were monochrome, but they all had Ronald in them… and one other person.
He seemed to be a taller, older man… definitely one who seemed to be unwilling to even be included in the photographs, given the dour look on his face. But that was Ronald, after all: a rather hard headed sort who always managed to persuade you to do things his way. And then he heard it:
"Honestly, Ronald. I don't have the time…"
"S'just one photograph, Will. It'll only take a minute."
"Are you aware that we'll have to stay still for half an hour in order to have those photos properly develop?"
"I can stay still! Besides, we've never had a photo taken."
"…Just one photo."
He reeled back, pausing as he placed his hand on the page. What was that? Those voices came in so clearly, almost as if he had witnessed the scene for himself. That was Ronald… his Ronald… but who was Will? He continued to leaf through the album and sure enough, that older man with the piercing eyes seemed to be in every photo. From the older, yellowed photos to what seemed to be the more recent colored shots… but there were subtle differences. His hair seemed different, he seemed shorter in some pictures, taller in others, he seemed more built in some, lighter in others, thinner… but those eyes never changed. They were always so piercing, so sharp…
Eyes much like his.
"D'you remember any of it, Yuki?" he finally heard Ronald ask from beside him.
Yukio turned to see the reaper lying on his side, the smallest teasing smirk playing on his lips. But he couldn't bring himself to return that smile. Instead, he found himself frustrated by it. "Remember?" he asked, shutting the album suddenly. "What am I supposed to remember? What was this?"
The reaper sighed and sat up, taking the album from the boy before leaning against him. "Missed the last page, did you?" he teased, turning to a page that contained a photo of that picture that had been taken just last week during an unplanned dinner date.
"I don't… understand…" Yukio murmured, finding himself absently flipping back to the earlier pages. But his mind wandered back to the nightmare that woke him to start. It seemed so real… and this man seemed familiar to him.
"S'just the past, Yuki… told you… nothing you had to worry about. All done with and all that, eh?" Ronald sighed, looking back up at him.
"...who was he?" the boy finally asked.
"D'you really want me to tell you who you were or d'you want to find out for yourself?" the reaper answered, that same smile holding the barest hint of worry even as he strained to keep it.
