Gojyo and Hakkai goodness. Inspired by John Mayer's Gravity. Not the lyrics though, the sound of it. This isn’t love. This isn’t a relationship. This isn’t quite friendship. This is more than...
Disclaimer: Saiyuki belongs to the worship-worthy Minekura-sama. Not me. I earn nothing for writing this.
Author's Note: It's kind of disturbing to be able to crawl into the heads of such f*cked up characters so easily. But they are beautifully f'ed up, which is what makes Saiyuki so wonderful.
Gravity. That’s what this is.
This isn’t love. This isn’t a relationship. This isn’t quite friendship. This is more than friends.
Gravity. This is the only way they can describe this.
This is the push and pull of scarred bodies, scarred souls, coming together in the night. Drowning their sins and sorrows in sweat and ragged breaths.
Gravity. This is the way it always has been between them.
Since that rainy night, not so long ago, an eternity ago. The night that crimson eyes met emerald and both felt the inexorable pull that slowly pulled them together.
Gravity. Neither of them could say when this became more than just ‘friends’.
To them it felt as if the loneliness of the night had always been filled by the touch of skin on skin, rough hands grasping at something. As if only yesterday it had begun.
Gravity. Throwing them together, tearing them apart, holding them down, trapped.
Grounding them with ties they never wanted, but need anyway. Soft moans, whispered apologies, rough growls, broken whimpers. Smothering, drowning them. Freeing them.
Gravity. On nights like this it’s something more than that pressing in on them, making it hard to breathe.
Crimson hair shadows emerald eyes, pressing him deeper into the mattress. The familiar, comforting, press and burn and ache. And then something that feels like home, maybe. The weight of one body over another, familiar, like the weight of the burdens they try to forget. On nights like this, when he calls his name, the world seems almost to end for a moment, and then the weight returns. A warm and pleasant weight.
Gravity. But things have changed, even if they don’t realize.
Gojyo doesn’t go out to the bars so much these days, and no longer returns home long after Hakkai has gone to bed. And Hakkai doesn’t stare out into the rain so much anymore, and lately his eyes don’t seem to die when he does.
Is love knowing who to come home to when it’s dark and rainy? Maybe.
Gravity. It doesn’t make any of this, what they have, describable. There are no words for it. Maybe it’s bigger and deeper than words.
The weight rolls away, and fingers trace the scar on his belly, the silver cuffs one his ear. Tonight he doesn’t look away. Hakkai’s fingers brush away hair the color of blood, and gently trace the double line of scars across his cheekbone.
Green eyes meet red ones hazy with completion, and he knows his must look the same. Gojyo smiles, a content and sleepy smile.
He smiles back, a warm, real smile.
There’s nothing that needs to be said. Something has changed, nothing has changed, and they know.
Gravity. So much more than that, nothing more than that. Does it really matter? This just is.
End Note: Concrit is much welcomed, and reviews are dearly loved.