[ooc: ran away to the woods my apologies again for the length of time this took to get to you.]
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[Perhaps that is part of it for Akihiko he knows what Ugetsu is and is not, it's not that he does not see the humanness, the flaws of him, the deep darkness, the bright light, everything that he exudes, Akihiko sees it. In startling hues, it blinds him, binds him, and altogether seems to be the symphony that controls his life. As Ugetsu's sway rises and falls like the moon, Akihiko is like the tide, forever beholden to its call, answering, giving it what it wants.
It is giving Ugetsu what he wants, even if every part he gives can seem as if it will make him bleed. Perhaps he no longer knows who he is without the sweet torment that is this love, so lost under it that to feel another in his heart seems impossible.
Forever the question, the request, the need to save Ugetsu even as he knows, the other does not want him to. He is fighting what may be a losing battle, yet like the war-torn soldier, he continues, the beats of his heart his battle drum. The soft release of stolen summer as Ugetsu laughs are his war horn.
The soft exhales, whispers of sheets, sounds of skin, mouths touching, the perfect arch of that seeming delicate body that he may not know is only for him; they are his battle cry. The only way to feel alive for him is when it's like this. Marks, from fights, from lovemaking, from years of twisting into each other's soul, are wounds that he wears with a sense of desperation.
How many times does he return after one of those fights, after one of those taunts to stay, to see Ugetsu take what he wants from another lover, from another body? Because he can not stop himself, for Akihiko, there is no place far enough because Ugetsu is buried with him.
Legs around his waist, drawing him remind him he is too covered, it's nothing to undo them, a dance he knows as he has often become too engrossed in Ugetsu to think of things such as his pants till they hinder the feel of the other against him. It's a shift, a draw of teeth across skin as toes hook fabric and hips rise to shift his long legs free, kicking them once he does.
Still, his hands, his mouth, his teeth claim Ugetsu's skin, leaving a mark here, promising another there. Take other lovers it says, I know you will, but remember me. In some part of him, he wants always to burn himself into the violonist, wants any other lover he takes to fall short.
Because for Akihiko it is the same, where else can find this burning passions, the mixture of need, love, desire, hate, music, it's all-consuming, and when he finally sinks flesh to flesh into the hold of those legs it is all he ever wants.]
Because I can.
[Because I can't I can't let you go I can't hold on to you I can't stop trying to save you I can't stop loving you
The answer is as it has been, always, in some way Akihiko will belong to Ugetsu, and in truth, it will be no surprise to him that if always, he returns here to this place, to give Ugetsu what he wants, as he has ever done, even if it is the very heart in his chest.]
I have been doing that slowly over the days to make ones for our thread and future threads XD
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[Perhaps that is part of it for Akihiko he knows what Ugetsu is and is not, it's not that he does not see the humanness, the flaws of him, the deep darkness, the bright light, everything that he exudes, Akihiko sees it. In startling hues, it blinds him, binds him, and altogether seems to be the symphony that controls his life. As Ugetsu's sway rises and falls like the moon, Akihiko is like the tide, forever beholden to its call, answering, giving it what it wants.
It is giving Ugetsu what he wants, even if every part he gives can seem as if it will make him bleed. Perhaps he no longer knows who he is without the sweet torment that is this love, so lost under it that to feel another in his heart seems impossible.
Forever the question, the request, the need to save Ugetsu even as he knows, the other does not want him to. He is fighting what may be a losing battle, yet like the war-torn soldier, he continues, the beats of his heart his battle drum. The soft release of stolen summer as Ugetsu laughs are his war horn.
The soft exhales, whispers of sheets, sounds of skin, mouths touching, the perfect arch of that seeming delicate body that he may not know is only for him; they are his battle cry. The only way to feel alive for him is when it's like this. Marks, from fights, from lovemaking, from years of twisting into each other's soul, are wounds that he wears with a sense of desperation.
How many times does he return after one of those fights, after one of those taunts to stay, to see Ugetsu take what he wants from another lover, from another body? Because he can not stop himself, for Akihiko, there is no place far enough because Ugetsu is buried with him.
Legs around his waist, drawing him remind him he is too covered, it's nothing to undo them, a dance he knows as he has often become too engrossed in Ugetsu to think of things such as his pants till they hinder the feel of the other against him. It's a shift, a draw of teeth across skin as toes hook fabric and hips rise to shift his long legs free, kicking them once he does.
Still, his hands, his mouth, his teeth claim Ugetsu's skin, leaving a mark here, promising another there. Take other lovers it says, I know you will, but remember me. In some part of him, he wants always to burn himself into the violonist, wants any other lover he takes to fall short.
Because for Akihiko it is the same, where else can find this burning passions, the mixture of need, love, desire, hate, music, it's all-consuming, and when he finally sinks flesh to flesh into the hold of those legs it is all he ever wants.]
Because I can.
[Because I can't
I can't let you go
I can't hold on to you
I can't stop trying to save you
I can't stop loving you
The answer is as it has been, always, in some way Akihiko will belong to Ugetsu, and in truth, it will be no surprise to him that if always, he returns here to this place, to give Ugetsu what he wants, as he has ever done, even if it is the very heart in his chest.]