#!!adam

[fish-n-friends]

im doing this for us. im doing this because we will never be right, it sucks but im doing what i can to protect us. it doesnt matter that its bad. i dont care that its bad.

im doing this so we dont hurt anymore.

[largehearts]

welcome home, my heart. // @madefate​ gave me feelings again, can you believe?

      Time has started passing again. Adam isn’t completely sure what that moment was when it felt like everything stopped, before – the plunge? Realizing he would not heal, would not fly again? No – that doesn’t seem right. He doesn’t really know why he keeps thinking about this, other than the fact that this, out of everything else, is what keeps him up at night, sitting curled around his knees in bed, the blanket pooled at his ankles as he stares at the silhouette of Takashi sleeping next to him.

      Oh. There’s his answer – and, really, should he be surprised? It’s always come down to him, hasn’t it? It’s Takashi, after all.

      Adam remembers that moment crystal clear: learning Takashi was lost in space, most likely dead, years ago – that’s when his life drained of colour and most meaning. It’s an overwhelming realization now, that such a long time was spent like that, not even truly realizing how many empty hollows he was carrying behind his ribs, and how they bled and melted into each other as time went by, until it felt like Adam himself was an empty space where he should have been filled out with feelings, all sharpness and edges where once he was soft.

      He’s been trying to sand them down again, but it is a time-consuming process, especially doing it in tandem with the physical recovery he finally plunged himself into – though one could not have happened without the other, he knows, for both of these things needed one thing first and foremost: allowing himself to hope.

      It is a good thing hope itself, impersonated, was brought back into his life – the man next to him, sprawled on his back, breathing deep and peaceful – how can something so mundane tighten Adam’s throat to such an incredible extent?

      It has been weeks – months, actually, Adam realizes, momentarily startled; when has the restarted time sped up so much? – since he’s been able to breathe again. It brings other things; an arm that can now be lifted overhead, palms brought together with a mildly uncomfortable sensation that no longer rams knives into his back, two-armed embraces. And of course, outside their little sphere of existence, it has brought disappearing rubble from streets, restarting Academy programs, recuperating survivors, liquidation of the remaining work camps, the continuation of taking to pieces everything that remains from the enemy, like the robot Atlas and Voltron fought, as well as Sendak’s arm and consciousness.

      But these are not the things Adam wants to think about as he lies back down. He tries to be cautious, but Takashi still stirs – unsurprising, all soldiers are light sleepers – and rather than feeling guilty or trying to backtrack, Adam frees the corners of the blanket so he can slide underneath and press himself to the other, as many points of contact as he can manage. Vindicatingly, Takashi’s arm sneaks around his waist immediately, his face pressing into Adam’s collarbone enough that he can barely make out the question, “Bad dream?”

      “Nah,” he replies softly, smiling as he takes a moment to run his fingers through the other’s hair. “Just thinking.”

      “’Bout?”

      Adam thinks for another moment, of everything the passing of time has enabled them to do that they couldn’t before. He draws a gentle trace with his lips from Takashi’s forehead down to the tip of his ear shell, and murmurs in a way that raises goosebumps on the other’s arm, “Date ideas. I’ll tell you in the morning.”

      Takashi’s soft laughter still rings in his ears when he falls asleep, tangled tightly into each other’s hold.

      “Are you sure you’re not too tired?”

      “As sure of it as of the fact that you’ll get punched if you ask me that one more time.”

      Adam flashes a quick grin at Takashi to soften the edge of the words. Yeah, some corners still stick out, sometimes he still needs that sandpaper. However, the sentiment is just as genuine as it was the first time he told the other he didn’t want him to treat him like porcelain, back when they met at the hospital, seeing each other for the first time after the fight was over.

      He gives the other’s left hand a reassuring squeeze, perhaps a little stronger than normal, using the firmness of the grip to show he still has more than enough strength left, even after such an exhausting session of physical therapy.

      But then, that’s part of the reason why they are here in the first place. After all, isn’t it high time he reaps some of the benefits of his hard work and blood and sweat and tears? Isn’t it high time Takashi does, after how he’s been there right next to Adam literally every step of the way?

      Dinner (because of course there is dinner, Adam would not do this any other way than properly) is fairly quiet and overall pleasant, though Adam can tell Takashi’s attention is partially diverted by what they can see of the floor and the couples on it. Finding the opportune lull in their conversation, Adam spears a piece of meat with his fork while allowing his mouth to tug into one of his lopsided smiles, he remarks gently, “Besides, we have to practice.”

      He cannot resist laughing at the splendidly bright redness that spreads all the way across Takashi’s cheeks, reaching up to cover even his ears.

      A few splotches of it are still there (or are they returning?) by the time they stand from the table, and Adam holds a hand out. It’s a little bit like electricity running through him from head to toe, the way he feels the thrill of expectation and excitement as the other takes it, wrapping their fingers together. At the next moment, though, the pinprickly sensation is washed away by the sheer warmth of skin on skin at their joined fingers, as well as the utter look of adoration in Takashi’s eyes that still, even now, catches Adam off guard, like he isn’t even entirely sure it’s him Takashi is looking at.

      He could make a joke about it, he thinks, if he wanted to try. It would likely not be far from what Takashi is expecting, either, if the way his look shifts a little is any indication. (It strikes him, then, too, just how well the both of them can read each other – somehow, it feels both like a miracle and the most natural thing in the world at the same time.) But somehow, it dies in his throat, turns into something completely different – something that wants to respond to what he is receiving exactly in kind, and that something turns humour into candour, twists the amused spark in Adam’s gaze into something hot, soft and sincere. Into a something that pulls at his insides with urgency until they stop among the others, turn to face each other, and before anything else, Adam brings their joined hands up to press the softest of kisses to the back of Takashi’s fingers with reverence in his gaze that he does not take off of the other’s face.

      (Among other things, the blush deepening confirms what Adam knew already; that he didn’t need the joke at all.)

      They’ve done this, before. Very differently – so much younger and more carefree, neither truly knowing war other than from the textbooks they’d studied and then taught, taking it as something that would not ever reach them, and taking this far more as a joke than they do now. Adam remembers the fumbling, the sometimes accidental and then sometimes deliberate fumbling; he seems to remember how he was flat-footed and graceless, and how Takashi was even then full of a charm he himself was completely unaware of.

      Well, some of it hasn’t changed, at least – Takashi is still looking at him like Adam is the best thing he’s ever seen, and as they finally find each other’s shoulders and a rhythm in which they can step fluidly, Adam knows his own face must also be burning. It’s fine – he may do his best to keep most people at arm’s length, even if they rarely notice, he wants Takashi to know the effect he has on him – in all honesty, he more than deserves to, anyway.

      At some point, as the music shifts into something slower and softer, Adam finds them gravitating towards each other, until it’s a proper slow dance, with feet stepping in between each other and chins settled against shoulders – even the lights dimming a little around them, and for a few moments of utter bliss, Adam isn’t even sure if it really did happen, or if he really is just so thoroughly focused on Takashi and nothing else, that the world outside the bubble that contains the pair of them has momentarily ceased to exist. It would be unsurprising, and not at all objectionable – right here, in this moment, this is all Adam cares about in existence: Takashi in his arms, the warmth of his body as their chests press against each other, his soft breathing that brushes against Adam’s hair over his ear, the silk-like feeling of his hand in Adam’s, his grip tightening just for a moment in response to the way Adam runs a small circle with his thumb over it.

      As far as existence goes, this bubble is fairly small, and for a split second that Adam doesn’t allow to expand into anything that would overshadow the moment, he does wonder if there is a discrepancy somewhere, that he is so happy with something so small, when Takashi has always dreamed of things vast and far away. But it doesn’t seem all that immediate now; it feels like it can’t do harm to allow the moment to become overwhelming; to just let any other thought go, as if all other desires and futures are inconsequential. Because, as much as Adam has always hoped – as much as it was impossible not to feel hope next to Takashi – he suddenly realizes there is belief backing it now, too, that this could be enough.

      That, even if it’s only for tonight (though somehow, Adam knows it isn’t anymore), both of them want the same thing. Just this, as Takashi said back at the hospital, clinging to him even as Adam told him he wants him to be free, wants him to have everything he desires, even if some of those things are so impossibly far away from Adam himself. He is unsure, now, how big a part of him really wanted Takashi to take him up on that offer, even if it was made genuinely, and how much of him would have, in turn, shattered completely if he did.

      But that was before Takashi said yes to him, and that thought alone is enough for Adam to be able to switch off the rest of it, everything that makes him wonder or worry, and focus all the attention he has into the present, with the love of his life in his arms.

      When, after another faster number, they finally walk back to the table, Adam notes with satisfaction that his request was heeded – but even so, he is caught off guard by the way Takashi’s eyes seem to glaze over for just a moment at the sight of the single red rose left by his plate. “Incredible, he says as they sit down, Takashi picking up the flower and twirling it once cautiously between his fingers, and laughing when the other looks up at him, startled.

      “What?”

      “How much of a dork you are,” Adam says, his eyes shining with the barely withheld mirth, which only grows as Takashi rolls his eyes. “Apparently, I’m stuck with it now, though.”

      “Apparently,” Takashi says, his voice deadpan, but his eyes filled with an amount of tenderness Adam keeps forgetting can even exist, and maybe, maybe he’s also just the slightest bit misty by the time he is pulled into a deep kiss.

      As far as the passing of time is concerned, Adam is more than fine spending the rest of his life this way.

[fish-n-friends]

tw sui .

I think it is best if we die .

It will never get better, this is how chronic illness works .

I dont want to hurt you, this is for your wellbeing . I dont want us to suffer . This is kindness. Even though it looks so cruel.

I'm sorry, little one, I'm sorry we ran out of options.

[largehearts]

The conversation has dwindled, but Shiro's attention has not similarly dimmed - his gazed is fixed on Adam and the hand cradling his cheek begins to wander. Featherlight, the tip of his finger traces below Adam's eye, his temple, the length of his nose, the line of his lip: slow, methodical movements almost reverent for how carefully and gently they come.

@madefate | can this much love exist in such a compact space?

Better than adream.

Adam watches throughhalf-lidded eyes as Takashi raises a hand and closes what little distanceremains between them. The touch is two ends of a spectrum all at once; butter-softbut filled to the brim with the kind of electricity he has never felt withanyone else. Adam smiles, letting the motion relax him, feeling (perhaps forthe first time since coming home) like he doesn’t mind that much the too-softbed he can’t get used to after months of sleeping on the ground in the camp.Lying here with Takashi, watching the morning sun kiss his starlight hair andthen scatter across his raised arm, Adam thinks he could be happy with the sinkingfeeling of smooth sponginess, a comfort he has yet to reacclimatise to.

Takashi’sface is filled with a concentration that could almost be comical, if it weren’tfor the fact that it’s so genuinely solemn in his focus. Years ago, Adamthinks, he would have been flustered by such pinpoint, hundred-percentattention, perhaps to the point of trying to deflect it. (For a moment, hissmile twitches as he reminds himself of the fact that Takashi is still prone todoing that.) Even now, there is a momentary, reflexive reaction that’sshort-lived enough to not let show, an upwelling of – not quite embarrassment,but a sense of undeserving, as thefeeling of just how loved he isenvelops him from head to toe, starting its spread from the point of contactbetween his skin and Takashi’s.

By now, herecognizes this as a faulty line of thinking, though, and after a few momentsof struggle that doesn’t show in anything other than the lightest of sheensappearing over his eyes, Adam swallows it away, and after a second longer ofalmost giving in to instinct, he ends up – not doing anything. Despite the factthat there is nothing he would love more than to find some way to reciprocate,to catch Takashi’s hand and press feather-light kisses to each of his gentlefingers, to press his warm palm back against Adam’s cheek, to reach out, even,and mirror every cautious, emotion-filled movement, there is something inTakashi’s gaze that gives him pause.

Somethingthat tells him, along with the tender swipe of a finger against his lips, thatit’s fine to just let this happen.

And, really,it’s not that Adam thinks Takashi doesn’t know he loves him back, but it’sstill – a pause, as he considers this. That there is more than blind faith stretching between them likeinvisible gossamer; it has strengthened into solid belief, based oneverything they’ve talked about, that even if Adam just lies here, not doinganything, and just accepts what he is given – Takashi still knows.

( and, ofcourse, also that there will be plenty of opportunities to reciprocate. slowlybut surely, alongside the reminders of how much they love each other, this, too,has started sinking in. the concept of time,as something they are not running outof, for once. )

With that lastthought in mind, it’s only almostsurprising that there is no grief when the moment passes, fleeting as it is. There will be more. Adam watches asTakashi’s hand settles, then raises his eyes to the other’s face, his smileetched into his gaze just as much as it is presented by the profound curve ofhis mouth. Before he realizes, without conscious thought, as if having finallygranted himself permission, he reaches out now, fingers seeking out Takashi’son the sheets between them and lacing themselves together one by one, his thumbrunning a circle or two on the back of the other’s palm.

The universeis unimaginably vast, many corners of it unlit by any of the infinte number ofsuns that exist in it, but for the two of them, this one tranquilly lit smallcorner of a room is no more or less than the world they need.

[largehearts]

time for some prompts!! adashi + celebration

@madefate | send me anything, anytime.

It’sthe stupidest possible timing, for Adam to have to be away today. He has beenfuming about it for a week, but today it has all burnt out to a quietresignation as he leaves at four in the morning, not to be seen or heard fromuntil late at night, when he would return. If he was at all a vindictive person,he might have made a small jab at the fact that Takashi goes on missions farmore often than Adam is requested for an inspection – but there is no reasonfor him to make this comparison, even if it grates at him terribly that thishad to be today. It’s absolutely notTakashi’s fault, but if he thinks about it, nor is it really the higher-ups’;it’s not as if they knew.

So,it is what it is – Adam, gone, but his presence lingering, in ways Takashimight not even expect.

Atable set for two when he wakes up and goes to the kitchen for breakfast; oneof the plates has a red rose set next to it (the bottom of the stem carefullywrapped in wet tissue paper), the other sporting an origami swan with ‘sorry’ written on a wing.

Anew pair of gloves tucked into his gym bag, plus an unopened, full roll of tape– which would be less of a thing, considering he was running out, if not forboth of these having a small red ribbon stuck to them.

Acouple more of the swans, each a different colour, tucked away at a variety ofplaces in the apartment, each well-positioned to not be plainly visible untilTakashi walks close, but all of those places well-chosen enough to definitelybe found, as if Adam knew where Takashi would be around the place over thecourse of the day.

Andthen finally, accompanied by another two roses, a letter on his desk – which certainlywasn’t there earlier, so the way it got there is a mystery, especially consideringKeith looks entirely innocent, and he isn’t usually any good at lying to hisbrother.

Takashi,

It’s been three years. Have you beencounting like I have? Sometimes I find myself switching years into months intodays, to know exactly how long it’s been. It’s a little like crossing off dayson a calendar in anticipation, but the complete opposite – because I’m notwaiting for anything to come, or anything to be over – I’m just grateful at theend of every day I got to spend with you, and am always looking forward formore to come.

I’m not going to apologize again, buthere’s a promise instead: I will make it up to you, not being there with youtoday to celebrate together.

Sometimes this whole thing stillfeels like a dream; far too good to be true. And I think if it really was adream, I wouldn’t want to wake up – but then I do wake up and you’re rightthere anyway, sprawled across me like the limpet you are. (I don’t mind!)

I could spend the day writing this,but it’s 3:30, and I’ll be late for my transport. Don’t wait up for me – we’llhave tomorrow. And many more days after that, hopefully. If you want it as muchas I do.

I love you,

Adam.

(Heknows, of course, that Takashi would wait up for him anyway, and thus he iswholly unsurprised to find him asleep on the couch instead of the bed, adocumentary’s credits rolling on the TV, and he’s still fully clothed. He doesn’tmind in the slightest that the attempt was unsuccessful; he thinks of all thelittle things he’s left for him, and looks at him now, and knows with absolutecertainty that he doesn’t need anything more in exchange.)

[largehearts]

🛏️ carry my muse to bed // shiro @ adam :3

@madefate | meme me!

      Fora moment or two, the sight brings an impossible tightness to Adam’s throat withthe nostalgia of it. How many times did he, back then, find Takashi slumpedover the kitchen table or his own desk in his room, having dozed into themiddle of studying or getting ready for the classes he taught? He doesn’tremember the exact count – but that’s not what matters anyway.

     Heused to bring a blanket from the sofa and wrap it around Takashi’s shoulders.They don’t have those anymore, though there are different ones, a little lessfuzzy and thick. But that’s not the only thing that has changed; both of themcarry more weight on their shoulders, more scars across their scapulae (amongother places), more lines beneath their eyes. And frankly, there are betterplaces to get a good night’s rest, if one doesn’t want to wake up feeling likea washrag.

     SoAdam leans down, and albeit at first he plans to do the whole thing withoutwaking Takashi up, once up close, he finds himself unable to resist pressinghis lips to the other’s temple. And of course, Takashi is roused by it, thoughnot fully – as if he knows he doesn’t need to be fully alert, because he’s withsomeone he can trust. (Yet another thought that pulls at heartstringsunexpectedly, though it also tugs a smile onto Adam’s face as he leans down,relishing the knowledge that this is something he can do now.)

     “Holdon,” he says in a low voice, and he should probably be glad Takashi is notawake enough to protest or worry about him, because Adam doesn’t need it; heknows what he is capable of, and he couldn’t be happier that this is amongthose things. An arm goes around Takashi’s back, another under his knees, andwith only minimal pulling at his back, he rises, lifting the other’s bulky formlike it weighs nothing. A semi-coherent protest forms itself on Takashi’s lips,but Adam just smiles down at him as he walks across the room and into theother, where their bed awaits. “Hush, you’re not heavy,” he murmurs, as ifknowing what the other couldn’t find the proper words for.

     Puttinghim down is a little trickier, if he doesn’t want to pull anything – in theend, he simply sits down himself, then scoots backwards onto the bed, and fromthere on, it’s much easier to slide Takashi off onto his own pillow – after that,all that remains is to pull the blankets up around both of them. By the timehis own head touches the pillow, Takashi is once again out like a light – but evenso, as if acting on sheer instinct, his arm still finds its way around Adam’smiddle.

     AsAdam fidgets a little to get fully comfortable, he can feel a little discomfortacross his back; perhaps he was justa tad reckless, all things considered, but physical therapy itself hurts muchmore, so he knows he will be fine by morning – all in all, totally worth it.

[largehearts]

switch on the sky (and the stars glow for you)

(a teaser, written with @madefate​.)

adam.

Oh God, he was — not ready. Why he thought this is beyond him now when it’s so obvious on the other’s face, but — he really did think someone would have let Takashi know of him being alive. (There is — one incredibly brief, bitter second where he’s almost satisfied. Yeah, that’s what it feels like. But it doesn’t last long when he’s looking right at Takashi’s face and seeing more pain than what he wanted to see on his features in a lifetime.) Then, another bitter wave, wholly different; of course they didn’t tell him, why would Adam be important enough?

He stands, tries to pull himself up to his full height; impossible when his left shoulder already lists down a little, maybe he’ll never be symmetrical again. Screw it, though. “In the flesh,” he says, grinning a little. The way his name was said already makes speaking a struggle through his incredibly tight throat, but he’ll manage, if only to chase away that lost look from Takashi’s face. “Well, mostly. Some of it is shrapnel.” His smile is lopsided, too, but that’s been like that always.

He spends another moment unmoving; he stood up, but then stays there, just drinking in the sight. So different — but deep down probably the same. Where it counts. Adam is suddenly struck by it — those parts, the best parts of Takashi, are far more than what he deserves. He remembers the things he said.

Since there is no way Takashi doesn’t, Adam does the only thing he can think of, and makes fun of it. He gestures towards the other’s startlingly white hair, and says, “Were you trying to spite me, or something...?”

shiro.

Objectively, Shiro is intimately, personally aware that sometimes death just -- doesn't stick. There is so much in this infinite universe that doesn't work under the rules he'd grown up with and he's learned this, viscerally and viciously, over and over again. But there is something about seeing Adam -- seeing him here, flesh and bone, real, that steals his gravity and leaves him floating. And then he smiles (it lists to the side, just the same way it always has) and Shiro wonders for a feverish second if he's dreaming -- but no, he's never dreamed anything so good as Adam's smile -- so then, maybe he'd never emerged from Black at all and this is the something good at the end of it he'd never dared to hope for.

Except. The cup is warm in his hands and his heart is thundering in his chest and he burns, vibrant and alive, and reality starts to bleed in around the edges. That's Adam's voice, short and crisp and laced with a kind of humor that seeks his own out like two hands more comfortable holding each other than being any other way. Adam's voice calling his white hair and every mistake he's made to task with that glinting smile in his voice -- -- The cup falls from his hands and he barely hears the sound it makes as it splatters across the floor. He'd feel bad if he -- maybe in the future, when his world hasn't narrowed to this singular focus -- himself, Adam, and the distance between them.

"Adam," is all he can manage, breathing the name with all the despair and hope and regret he never let himself think on until it comes back to him in this moment, before his throat locks entirely and he cannot fight the wave that crashes over him and catches him in its momentum, the world blurring under the skewed weight of tears filling his vision as he takes a halting step forward, then another, and then he knows, he knows that Adam should probably still hate him -- that he doesn't deserve any of this and that it's probably not him that Adam wants to see anymore, be held by anymore, but he can't -- he can't fight it as two trembling strides become something like a run and he's reaching out please, just for a second, just let me have this just once, I promise I don't need anything more than that flesh arm wrapping around the other's middle, other awkward and unsure of how to how hold him and settling for placing the hand on his shoulder.

adam.

It happens a little too fast for the fact that Adam thought (he has no idea why) that Takashi would stay where he was. It’s the shock of him being alive, it must be, why else —?

Coffee splatters all across the stones, and Adam finds himself in an embrace he almost forgot the feeling of. One he dreamed of plenty of times after Kerberos, in daydreams and real ones, in versions of events where Takashi did not leave and ones when he did not leave with that being the last thing Adam told him. (Sometimes even ones where Adam went with him, but. He’s not a hero like Takashi. He’s just a soldier. Now not even that, probably. He loves space, too, but — it’s different.)

It’s too good, almost, but he’ll take the moment and deal with what comes after when it comes. One arm mirrors Takashi’s, circling his back, and the other — well. That’s an arm that doesn’t connect, and Adam doesn’t know enough of it to go anywhere near what feels like a field between the shoulder and the attachment. He doesn’t want to do anything that might do Takashi any harm somehow. Except, an artificial palm is already on Adam’s shoulder, and he can’t hug Takashi on that side anyway, not at the same time, so he just huffs a little, breathless laugh, “This is — weird, where do I,” and then he realizes he’s crying too, and it doesn’t matter, so he just puts his palm on Takashi’s hip and pulls him closer with it.

There are so many things he wants to say. Sooner or later he’ll have to pick a starting point. But maybe — maybe it’s okay to just have this moment exactly the way it is. While it lasts.

shiro.

As much as he could tell himself that it would perfectly acceptable for Adam to push him away and claim a space that Shiro has no right to, when he doesn't Shiro burns with everything he's never let himself entertain -- the knowledge that it's as much for Adam's sake as his own that he'd be ready for that rejection, the realization of how thoroughly it would undo him to find him alive and still unwilling no matter how much Adam has the right to not want this. To not want him.

Then his hand is on his hip and Shiro finds that his body won't allow merely his eyes to cloud with tears -- his chest rattles and he heaves a sob, holding on tighter, pointedly and mercifully not thinking about what happens when this moment is over and it goes away because -- he'll be good about it. Just this once. That's all he could ever ask for --

His face has found the slope of Adam's neck and at the fumbling, he finds himself laughing through the wracking breaths. "Anywhere, I don't care --" There is something -- not quite right about the way Adam holds him (holds him) back but all of it is a little not right and Shiro can't -- he can't spend the energy figuring it out when he needs to rememorize the curve of Adam's neck and the span of his waist.

"You're here," he breathes, wet and broken up in the middle. "You're here, you're -- I'll let go I promise but I'm -- please just give me another second -"