Relationships: California/Texas, California & Texas, California & Florida & Louisiana, DC | Gov & Texas
Characters: California, Texas, Florida, DC | Gov
Tags: love confessions, first “i love you”s, falling in love, established relationship, idiots in love, fluff, domestic fluff, mutual pining, except it's established relationship so, they're dorks your honour, cali is the babysitter when gov's not around, he's not a good one though, poetry-adjacent, funky writing style ‘cause i cant write normally for the life of me
Summary:
I think I love you.
The words were bubblegum, caramel, strawberry sauce; pink, orange and red red red on his tongue. It flowed pleasantly from his lips and his heart stuttered in turn, joy and apprehension and warmth pooling in his chest. An entire room of states and he only had eyes for Texas.
I think I love you.
The mere phrase was crisp apples and sherbet; red and green and color rainbow color on his tongue. He idly wondered if his lungs had forgotten how to breathe as he choked on the adoration and hesitance and overwhelming fondness that swelled in his chest. An entire room of states and he only had eyes for California.
(or: texas, california, and simple declarations of love)
TWs and notes: nothing graphic and no violence, but heads-up for potentially grotesque and surreal imagery. written and posted october 2022 so it’s an oldie. oh, i also apologise for the awful formatting - its 5am and i’m on mobile rn
California watched his partner, an indecipherable feeling thick in his chest and throat and eyes. Tranquility was evident in the slow pace of his heart, the warmth of his fingertips. Words pressed against the roof of his mouth, traced against his jaw and fizzled against his tastebuds. His tongue rolled the words, gently grazing his lips, air fluttering between his teeth. He tasted it, then tasted it again.
Love.
It flowed pleasantly from his lips and his heart stuttered in turn, joy and apprehension and warmth pooling in his chest. He felt light as a balloon, like he could soar through the stars he saw reflected in Texas’ eyes and smile. The other state grinned shamelessly from where he stood on the other side of the room, likely bragging about something or other, and the warmth in California’s chest threatened to overflow. Threatened to fill his mouth and spill from his lips and drip down his chin, to expose the adoration and devotion and love love love that pumped with the beat of his heart. His jaw ached in need, yearning to open and spill the butterflies fluttering in his chest, but he clenched it shut.
I think I love you.
The words were bubblegum, caramel, strawberry sauce; pink, orange and red red red on his tongue and in his mind. He paused and just drank in the cloying sweetness, tequila-lime-love pumping quickly through his veins and a saccharine smile on his lips.
He laughed to himself, gentle wind chimes blessing the air. An entire room of states and he only had eyes for Texas. His partner would call him a simp; he wouldn’t disagree with the sentiment, not when he’d fight god for the other if he ever asked.
A poke to his arm startled him out of his thoughts. He whipped around and was greeted by a grinning Florida.
“C’mon, Cali, quit swooning over Texas and come help me and Louie cover Gov’s office in sticky notes.” The shorter state didn’t phrase it as a question and didn’t wait for an answer, tugging California up and out of the chair by his arm. The golden state groaned playfully but allowed himself to be dragged along, flashing one last look at his partner before mentally preparing himself to limit the chaos the other two states would get up to.
Texas watched his boyfriend gesture wildly, the warmth in his chest and at the back of his throat threatening to bubble from his lips. He watched the way the other’s eyes visibly lit up behind his glasses, fond exasperation coloring his cheeks with roses and rubies. The way that dark lashes met with smooth, tanned skin, and alluring, rosey lips lifted into a soft smile made Texas’ heart flutter. His own lips instinctively opened, letters and syllables dancing playfully on his tongue.
Love.
He idly wondered if his lungs had forgotten how to breathe as he choked on the adoration and hesitance and overwhelming fondness that swelled in his chest. He felt as high as a kite, like he could soar beneath the sun he saw reflected in California’s eyes and smile. He once again tentatively rolled the words in his mouth, and grinned like a madman. The other state turned and met his eyes, gaze questioning. For a moment, Texas drowned in those expressive chocolate pools, shoving down the instinctive urge to open his jaw and spill the words hiding in his heart and his head. Then he quirked his lip and tilted his head to quell the worries of the other, and the moment of gentle concern ended, fleeting but meaningful. He continued to watch the beanie-clad state, fingers tingling with warmth and innocent longing.
I think I love you.
The mere phrase was crisp apples and sherbet; red and green and color rainbow color on his tongue and in his mind. He savoured the cool, fresh tingle of apple-raspberry-orange, honey-lemon-love pumping sluggishly through his veins, adoration in the warmth of his eyes.
He chucked to himself, the dancing warmth of a fireplace on a rainy night. An entire room of states and he only had eyes for California. His partner would call him a softie; he’d be right. Texas would drop everything in a heartbeat if the man ever asked.
The rustle of fabric startled him out of his thoughts. He blinked and tilted his head to face an amused Gov.
“You’re down bad, huh?” The smartly dressed personification grinned teasingly, raising a manicured brow. Texas bristled, opening his mouth to defend himself (and gulping back the rush of love love love for his partner that threatened to escape), but the other beat him to the punch. “Illinois told me that the bathroom door’s broken, and I’m gonna need you to fix it.” The lone star state scowled but acquiesced, slowly shuffling to his feet and sparing a final fleeting glance at his partner before trailing after Gov.
The partners lay on the ground under the night sky, grass tickling the napes of their necks. The night air was cool, but the warmth of their bodies and their smiles and their hearts made the cold nigh unnoticeable. Texas merely listened, eyes to the night sky as California regaled him with a detailed account of that afternoon’s shenanigans, of Florida’s prank and Gov’s wrath.
“-But then I reminded Gov of what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been around to watch Florida. Like, I wasn’t the one who left him unattended, it’s not my fault if he decides to cause trouble. Anyway, he paled up real fast and said I didn’t have to help clean up, which is great because honestly? I regret nothing-,”
Soft waves and lavender were evident in his gentle drone, and Texas simply just existed for a moment, basking in the peaceful atmosphere. The state rolled the words in his mouth again, the words that had been on the tip of his tongue all day, before-
“-I love you.”
Texas paused for a moment, his brain processing the unexpected words. Upon finally registering the phrase, he whipped his head to the side and gazed with wide eyes at his partner. Their eyes met and Texas drank in his partner’s features; those chocolate pools were apprehensive but determined. Texas fell a little harder at the certainty in his eyes.
“I wanted t’say that first,” he grumbled goodnaturedly in return. He was rewarded with a chuckle and the sight of his partner relaxing in relief.
“Guess you’ll just have to take the next one,” the other hummed. Texas felt the corners of his lips raise in gentle amusement-adoration-love.
“‘Guess I do. I love ya, Safe Space.”
California’s eyes crinkled in joy and he playfully elbowed the lone star state in the side. “Don’t ruin the moment, asshole.”
And under the blanket of stars, love in the air and their smiles and their hearts, there was nowhere else the pair would rather be.
Slender fingers like silken feathers trace fine lines through soft fur as white as fresh snowfall. Lightning arcs across brushlike touch, alights hidden skin, draws forth a rosy blush and a quiet heat, a ripple, a gasp, a yearning need. More, he cries, with half-lidded eyes, bidding those cool hands to curl around his contours, to grasp his beating flame and pull him closer to those crimson pools, beyond the shimmering blue curtain where lie lips of satin cyan, whispering sweet promises from an indifferent heaven, and vows like kisses given generously and thoughtlessly.
Long ears like velvet on the lips. Teeth marks red with playful nips, staking their claim on pristine sheets, cutting fine lines betwixt pleasure and pain. A violent adoration, too primal for words. He responds, protesting, crying affront, but his voice is laced with wanting shivers. His hands repel, but rebellious claws pull them back. There is fog on his glasses, concealing the shimmer in his yearning eyes. They feel the smile upon his lips, the giggles bubbling up from his chest, and without warning they pounce, ensnaring their willing prey, locking limbs with loving care, diving face-first into rippling fur, biting and kissing with abandon, as a starved beast to a fresh kill.
Resolution - and one return to two. Both lie strewn, spent, stark in the cold, uncaring darklight. They draw close, hands grasping for vestigal warmth amid a blizzard of fine hairs and the ruins of a young friendship. The dark between them is mournful, heavy with the loss of something they didn't even know was there. Eyes find each other across the divide, asking - is this what we truly wanted? Or were other forces at play? But there is no answer, and no voice to give it. Only the silent future, stretching ceaselessly before them.
I think...
I think that I'm afraid to write.
I think that I'm afraid to write, because it means I'll have to feel
when I write, all my inadequacies are out on the page. And it's hard
hard to let others see that, hard to let them read it.
It's hard for me. Because I'm the one who has to evaluate myself
I have to dig deep
I have to dredge up those dark parts.
The gritty, passionate parts,
The painful parts.
I have to remember who I am
I have to remember what makes me tick
I have to look at myself and say
this is what makes you who you are
Every bit of suffering, every bit of pain written on your heart
Is what makes you able to write like this
Raw suffering on a page
Agony
Desperation.
All of it is something I've felt.
Passion,
Love
and sacrifice so strong it makes you scream
And there's no way to hide.
I'm afraid of a blank page, because it means I have to look at everything that's happened
It means I have to look at everything I am
And even though it makes me a better writer
It reminds me that somewhere along the way,
I've forgotten about myself.
