habitat is really just a fancy way of saying cage
a Viewfinder fic by Meg
Asami Ryuuichi likes pretty things, delicate things, things that have to be handled with exquisite care, lest they break. He likes the way fine china feels like it will give, just before it shatters.
He likes Takaba Akihito a lot. He likes the way he screams and shatters. He likes the way Takaba pretends he's free. He likes watching him, untamed and proud and free, and remembering him caged.
Asami once went to a zoo, not exactly on purpose. (There was a deal to make, and it was the easiest place to meet. The courier, he remembers, was twelve or so and he'd bought her a crepe and she'd called him Uncle. She had dead eyes.) He remembers the habitats, made to look exactly like the wild, to make the animals happy. There was one cat, an ocelot, he thinks; gold, with black-ink markings. He remembers the eyes; amber and still wild, almost despairing. It was trapped in a place almost like home.
He thinks he will make Takaba Akihito a habitat. It will match his native place in every detail.
And Takaba will live there, safely and with the illusion of freedom.