Summary:
Harry and Kim each receives an unexpected gift.
(A reverse timeline AU, sequel to All in Due Time, HarryKim, M/R)
La neige ne fond qu'à un baiser de feu,
Ton cœur ne fond qu'à un baiser d'adieu.
(The snow only melts with a kiss of fire,
Your heart only melts with a kiss goodbye.)
-- Rémy de Gourmont
Countdown: 312 Days to Go
GOLDEN CLASSICS FM – You hear faint music on the radio, the sound quality rather poor, probably due to the age of the surviving copies, and of the song itself. "Daydream... I fell asleep amid the flowers... for a couple of hours... on a beautiful day..."
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Legendary: Success] - A Sur-la-Clef song that was moderately popular late in the New, one of the few legacies of the band that wrote it. Occasionally heard in pubs big and small in Revachol, back in your early twenties.
SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] – You find your foot slowly tapping along to the rhythm. Even Golden Classics FM doesn't play the song too often, but somehow, every time you hear it, you get an urge to dance, to slowly sway to the music, hands on someone’s arms or waist, your forehead pressed against theirs.
PAIN THRESHOLD [Formidable: Failure] - ...Even though you don’t have anyone to dance with anymore. Not like this.
VOLITION [Godly: Failure] - The report you were writing suddenly becomes unbearable. You set aside the ledger and rub your tired eyes with your palms. Ever since you returned to the RCM, to pass all this time you have to fill alone, you no longer have a partner to help you with paperwork. That’s on you, though, since you were the one who refused any attempt to assign you with a long-term partner. Jean, now the captain, only looked at you for a long time, and eventually let you be.
YOU - You open the hidden compartment of your ledger and pull out the old, folded handkerchief that used to belong to Kim.
THE HIDDEN COMPARTMENT - Which brings out a folded slip of paper, sealed in an evidence bag for years. You opened it once, out of curiosity. The only thing it has to show is a string of numbers that seems to mean nothing to you. You kept it only because Kim had done the same, carefully preserving it in his own ledger.
EMPATHY - You asked him what it was, but he just shrugged and said that it had always been there, so he assumed it had to mean something he just didn’t know yet.
INTERFACING [Challenging: Success] - You open the plastic bag, gently take the note out and unfold it. Old paper is always fragile.
VISUAL CALCULUS [Formidable: Success] – Judging by the fray at the folds and the yellowness of the paper, it’s been there for decades at least. The numbers are a bit blurred by water stains, but still legible, though the writing’s quite sloppy, probably scribbled on some unstable surface. It is difficult to make out anything by the handwriting. It even looks a bit like yours.
LOGIC [Challenge: Success] – It’s just numbers. Many people write them the same.
INLAND EMPIRE [Legendary: Success] - But...
GOLDEN CLASSICS FM - Daydream...
INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Success] - He left you a kiss. Right here.
DAY 1????
Kim almost cringes. He has half a heart to flee, but his legs just won’t move, as if pinned in place. He can't help but dig his fingers into the edge of the bar, trying to restrain his shiver as a cold soreness in his chest grips every muscle in his body.
"Kim?" His friend asks hesitantly, alarmed by how he went so unusually pale, also reluctant to show any more concern. It wouldn't be *cool* enough, and more importantly, they aren’t *close* enough – Kim is used to staying this way. Everything invariably comes with an expiry date. Clinging won't help. Following Kim’s gaze, his friend looks to the doorway, and his eyes widen slightly.
A crowd of three or four arrives, but of course *he* is the one that draws all the attention, of course he is, tall and muscular, that smooth, young face untarnished by wrinkles, sharp cheekbones and jaw on broad display without the beard. Once again, Kim has to marvel at Harry Du Bois’ consistent ability to *stand out*, perhaps with his absurdity, or the unrelenting way he throws himself at anything, or simply his sheer presence that seems to bleed into the air... but right now, it’s his confident anticipation even as he steps into strange territory, perhaps tinged with slight confusion.
And how *handsome* he is. The old photos he'd seen decades ago definitely weren’t enough to prepare him for this, seeing Harry at his prime with his own eyes, and this unexpected reunion only catches him even more off guard.
"That your ex?"
"Sort of," Kim forces out a few syllables, almost inaudible. At that, his friend lets out a low whistle. He’s probably saying something else, to which Kim responds with a distracted mumble. He’s not paying attention anymore - the remnants of his sanity begin on sluggish repeat, like a broken record: You should leave. You should leave. You should leave. At least don't look at him. Don't look at him.
Don't look at him as he sets his eyes on other preys, just to let him remind you again that he is not yours. Just like all those years ago when, despite not allowing yourself to stalk him, you still lingered at the bars he frequented and watched him howl like the drunken animal that he was. Once, presumptuously, you even went to help him, slumped like a puddle of mud in an alleyway, to take him back home. Halfway through, he clung to you, delirious, and cried softly, Dora, Dora, to you who froze in his arms.
Or worse. Don’t let him take his aim at you, just to watch him walk away, leaving in his wake the pieces that are bound to become of your dignity. He is not yours. Not anymore.
But too late. He meets Kim's gaze as he instantly withdraws his eyes from their inertial roaming, locking them on Kim's face with a slight frown, as if drawn in by the scent of blood.
Countdown: 312 Days to Go
HAND-EYE COORDINATION [Challenging: Success] - Your trembling fingers carefully trace the writing.
INLAND EMPIRE [Godly: Success] - The smell of tequila that floods your breath in between kisses. Delirious murmurs with the bitter salt of tears. Burning dark eyes far older than they appear, swallowing you whole.
Not yet drenched in the smell of apricot gum, you let your drinking buddies drag you along in search of something new. You walk into the pub far down Perdition, known for how friendly it was to the *homosexual underground*, and run straight into the gaze of a thin, young Seolite man, fiery through his glasses, so desperate it almost makes you quiver. No one has ever looked at you like this, and none has ever again, not even now when you're bound to disappear into the roaring flames of nuclear explosion and dissipate into pale. The immense, endless grief and fervor pulls on you relentlessly, into the dark unknown.
And you, you who never know any better, rush in headlong, like a moth to a flame.
SEOLITE MAN - His knuckles grow whiter as he clutches harder at the edge of the bar and lowers his eyes, brow furrowed as if in pain, but suddenly he loosens, his whole body relaxing in an instant. Even laughs a little.
AUTHORITY [Legendary: Success] - Resigned to his fate.
EMPATHY [Impossible: Success] – We all have our hearts broken, over time. It’s only a matter of time.
And it doesn’t even matter, when you’re right there in front of him.
YOU – Your footsteps, your fingers, all jolt to a stop, suddenly uncertain, unsure if you could bear the weight of his devotion.
KIM KITSURAGI - But as he looks up to meet your eyes again, the pain has already dissolved into tenderness, bitter but endlessly fond. He smiled at you.
You are safe. He’s the only one who won’t get out of this in one piece.
DAY 1????
At least you get to kiss him again.
Relieved as he makes up his mind, Kim turns to order three shots of tequila, tilting his head back and downing one.
He's been hurting all over for days, cursing himself as it got worse, and when he woke up the day before, hungover and in epic pain, he could barely get off the couch, even considered calling in sick for the day. He’s been wondering, just how recklessly he had to have partied to end up like that. Now he understands. It all makes sense. An insignificant price to pay.
Another shot.
His only regret is that he didn’t properly savour the pain. He merely thought he was just paying for a night's indulgence in advance, not realising that it was a gift.
He’s about to raise his third glass, when someone speaks from beside him, "You're not drinking it properly."
Harry’s voice isn’t quite what he remembered, but without decades of smoking and drinking, that’s hardly a surprise. Kim recognises his tone, though, the tentative way a can-opener looks for a point of entry. Kim tilts his head to glance at him and says, "The Mesques wouldn’t agree."
Harry leans over, already at the bar, so close that Kim could almost feel the heat radiating from his arms. He grins, "But neither of us is from Mesque."
Kim raises an eyebrow. Several replies come to mind - there are a few ways this can play out. But in the end, he only curls his mouth into a smile. "You're right. We're not." He picks up the salt shaker he set aside earlier.
Countdown: 312 Days to Go
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenging: Success] – You’re well aware that salt and lime are just a party trick to soften the spicy taste of tequila, and that a fine tequila from Mesque requires slow sips. But what the man has in front of him is just the cheap stuff usually sold in pubs, not the sipping kind.
EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] - He doesn't care, either way. He simply wanted to get drunk, to let the alcohol numb his nerves.
LOGIC [Challenging: Success] - There are better options. Vodka, or whiskey.
EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] – He’s never had much of a preference for tequila, even used to avoid it for a time, because of you. This time he ordered tequila, also because of you.
SUGGESTION [Challenging: Success] – Him suddenly reaching for the salt shaker, that’s also for you. Putting on a little show, just for you. He rips off one glove with his teeth and lets it drop on the bar, as he raises his hand to his lips and slowly licks the space between his thumb and forefinger, not taking his eyes off yours for a second.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Legendary: Success] – Two shakes of the bottle, and the sound of music suddenly becomes distant. You hear the sound of his fingertips gently tapping the shaker, the rustle of salt grains rolling around inside the glass.
PA SYSTEM - Daydream...
PECEPTION (TASTE) [Easy: Success] – A slice of lime is sent between your lips, which are hanging open without you even knowing, bits of juice on the slice already releasing its sourness before it touches your tongue. "Hold it for me," he says, and you obediently take it in your mouth.
PA SYSTEM - I dreamt of you amid the flowers...
SEOLITE MAN - Still staring intently into your eyes, he licks the salt off his hand before downing the shot, jaw tilted back, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and instantly reaches for the lime between your teeth.
REACTION SPEED [Challenging: Success] - By instinct, you quickly bite into it before he gets to you.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - The tangy juice bursts into your mouth, burning your tongue.
SEOLITE MAN - He senses the slight resistance as he snatches the lime away. A smile flashes in his eyes, right before he grabs you by the collar and tugs you into a kiss.
PA SYSTEM – For a couple of hours...
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - He takes the slight opening and invades your mouth with zero diplomacy, sucking the sour juice from your lips, what’s left of the icy tequila flowing into your mouth, burning with a few hints of cheap fragrance, stinging inside your oral cavity. His hot, wet tongue intertwines with yours, in a soothing manner. Belatedly, you lean into it, kissing him back, pouring the liquor back into his mouth. His tongue curls to scrape that final layer of alcohol off yours, before his lips breaks away from your mouth.
PA SYSTEM – Such a beautiful day...
SEOLITE MAN - You gasp, as you watch him slowly open his eyes after swallowing the liquor. He licks his lips and asks you with a smirk, "Did I do it properly this time?"
COMPOSURE [Heroic: Failure] - You eagerly follow his lips as his hand caresses the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You can feel the vibrations of his low chuckle.
DAY 1????
Harry's large hands climb up Kim's waist as he wraps his arms around Harry's neck, blindly following him, one clumsy step after another, and finds himself being led onto the dance floor. A slow song’s playing, somewhat melancholy. So Harry has always liked this kind of stuff, even now. The few pairs left are all snuggled up, swaying slowly to the rhythm.
He remembers Harry liked to dance. He remembers all those nights when Harry pulled him in and danced to the music on the radio. Kim doesn't mind, it's just that when they break the kiss, their foreheads pressed together, dancing slowly in each other's arms ... it's almost as if they were a couple. As if Harry loved him too. Kim's nails dig into his palms. Everything comes with an expiry date. Clinging won't help.
"What's wrong?" Harry asks softly.
Kim opens his eyes, and Harry's worried eyes are right there in front of him, their greyish green indistinct in the dim light, but so strange yet so familiar that Kim's breath hitches. His eyes start to burn as he forces a smile, "Nothing." Harry clearly doesn't buy it, but he's too hesitant to ask, and Kim can hear the gears turning in his head. Even this part is exactly the same as he remembers.
"You're sad," eventually, Harry murmurs.
Kim cups his jaw, his thumb gently stroking across Harry’s cheek. He wants, more than anything, to just tell him the truth. He wants to say that no one’s ever loved him like Harry did, and he’s never loved anyone else the same way he did Harry. That he hasn't felt so alive in a long time. That he would happily die right this moment. But all that came out was: "Don't worry about me."
Don’t worry about me. You’ll always have tomorrow, where I will be nothing but a fleeting shadow. Forgotten. Gone.
So that’s what he says, don’t worry about me, as he drops a soft kiss on Harry's lips. Harry chases him back, kissing the corners of his mouth, his cheeks, his earlobe, his neck, until all Kim could do is hold him close and melt in his arms.
Countdown: 312 Days to Go
SEOLITE MAN - The way he grinds against you gradually changes from playful tease to frenzied demand, as he pulls you along and stumbles away from the dance floor. Between kisses, he tilts his head and asks, "Bathroom?" Something tells you it’s *occupied*, and you tell him so. He doesn't even question it. A strange look flashes across his face, as if something just clicked, and then he lets out a soft laugh and leads you outside.
INLAND EMPIRE [Godly: Success] - Pieces of the puzzle fall into place, from the chafe that has yet to appear on his back, to the bullets that has yet to rip through his body. All in their due time.
SEOLITE MAN - He pulls you into the nearest alley, throwing his back against the wall as if falling into a bed, tugging at your shirt so that you fall forward with him. You barely reach up in time to brace yourself against the wall, the rough surface scraping hard against your palm. Next thing you know he’s grabbing you by the collar and kissing you, hard. You tug roughly at his thin black T-shirt, slipping your hands under the hem to explore the smooth skin hidden beneath, the slender waist, the well-defined ribs of his chest, the hollow beneath his ribcage. He quivers under your touch. You take the opportunity to kiss him, all sloppy, nibbling at his neck, his collarbone, his body heat steaming out the scent of pine needles as he bares his neck for you and moans, his fingers tightening uncontrollably in your hair.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - His palm brushes against your crotch through the fabric of your jeans. His fingers reach down and tuck in, cupping you whole, rubbing and rolling in gentle torture. You forget what you’re doing for a moment and exhale heavily against his neck. Deft fingers unzip your fly in a matter of seconds, skillfully freeing your cock, now exposed to the slightly chilly air. He wraps those slender fingers around you, feeling around as if getting reacquainted. Eventually he tightens his grip with just the right amount of force, thumb rolling back and forth over the slit, the rough, calloused side of his index finger rubbing against the crease just beneath the head, squeezing in a little. You don't understand how he’s so horribly talented at this - you didn't even know you like it this way - and almost go weak in the knees, bracing yourself against the wall.
SEOLITE MAN - His hand suddenly leaves your cock. You’re about to complain – or whine in protest, to be completely honest - when he grabs your hips and turns both of you around, so that you’re against the wall while he -
PERCEPTION (TOUCH) [Easy: Success] - Smooth, warm wetness wraps around the head of your cock, sucking, licking and teasing. His fingers are back, wrapped around your shaft, gradually guiding it into his mouth, deeper and deeper. You can't help but buck up your hips, apparently hitting too deep and causing him to gag and cough. Feeling guilty, you meant to pull back, only to be held in place by his iron grip on your hips. He even works his way forward to meet you, cheeks sinking in as he sucked, glasses slightly fogged. His eyes are reddening and watering from the strain to suppress his gag reflex, the contraction of his throat squeezing the head of your cock. Finally he takes you deep into his throat, basically swallowing you whole as he lets go of your hips, granting you the permission to fuck his throat all you want.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Legendary: Success] - Through the mad rush of blood pulsing between your ears, you can hear the faint clinking of a belt. A small packet being torn open.
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Formidable: Successful] - You look down. He’s on his knees in front of you, his whole face now pink, eyelashes damp from tears induced by physical reaction. He’s touching himself, but not in the way you would have thought, his hand behind his back, stuffed into his jeans.
VOLITION [Godly: Failure] – He seems to have sensed that you’re distracted. His lips tighten around you, teeth grazing ever so slightly over your shaft and tongue wandering around, his head bobbing back and forth, doing the throat-fucking for you - and you forget everything. You forget to watch, forget to think, as you throw your head back, slammed against the brick wall, the buzz of pain drowned out by the pleasure.
PERCEPTION (TOUCH) [Easy: Success] - Just when the pooling warmth begins to tense up in your lower abdomen, he withdraws, the movement so sudden that he can't help coughing again. But that doesn't stop him from pulling away from your tip with a heavy sucking kiss. Your erection, wet with his saliva, sends a shudder through your body with its extra sensitivity to the cold night air.
REACTION SPEED [Formidable: Success] - He stands up and grabs your arms, switching your positions once more. You manage to get your limp legs to maintain the balance, but just barely. He tugs his jeans and briefs down to his ankles in one swift move, kicks off one boot and pulls his foot out as he drags you forward, hooking his left leg around your waist without missing a beat. Then he braces one hand on your shoulder and stands on his toes, while holding your cock in the other hand and guiding it into himself.
PAIN THRESHOLD [Challenge: Success] - The folds of muscle bite into the head of your erection as you rip into the soft flesh. He’s panting, all erratic, body tensing up as his fingers squeeze into your shoulder.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] - But with the pain, comes the incomparable tightness and smooth heat...
PERCEPTION (TOUCH) [Medium: Successful] - He guides you a little further in with his hand. But suddenly impatient, he presses both hands against your shoulders for leverage, props himself up, and hooks his other leg around your waist. Before you can even react, he sinks down heavily, taking your whole length inside him.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Easy] - Your vision blanks out as you almost come on the spot.
PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Formidable: Success] - But you remain on your feet, reaching out by instinct and grab a hold of his thighs, catching his weight without a hitch. You thrust up in triumph.
PERCEPTION [Medium: Success] - A groan of pain. His fingers dig hard into your flesh and he struggle to breathe, his body curling up in tremors. Only then does you notice how he goes ghastly pale, and the beads of sweat on his forehead.
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - No. No. This isn't right. He's in pain.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenge: Success] - You know it's not the same with a man. Sex with men requires more care, more preparation. Granted, you saw him *opening* himself up, but it mustn’t have been enough.
SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Successful] - But the way he acted on you before, he's definitely not new at this.
SUGGESTION [Challenging: Success] - He did seem *impatient*, but...
EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] - The pain in his eyes...
LOGIC [Legendary: Success] - He did this on purpose.
EMPATHY [Godly: Success] – He’s grieving.
INLAND EMPIRE [Purgatory: Success] - All that time has taken away. The farewell left unsaid. Countless first times and last times that slipped through his grasp. He never gets to keep anything. Not you, not even this pain.
PAIN THRESHOLD [Heroic: Failure] - Unlike you, destined to dwell among the ruins he left behind. Every piece he couldn't take with him, he unloaded onto you. His handkerchief. His jacket. His notes. His cold, stiff, lifeless body, curled up in your arms.
SEOLITE MAN - Your sudden stillness seems to make him uneasy. He starts to move, biting his lip and rocking his hips despite the pain, trying to establish some sort of rhythm. You press one hand against his chest, trying to stop him: "Hey, stop, you're hurting yourself..." but he won't listen, still struggling to twist his hips against you, wild eyes full of desperation and sorrow, pleading.
YOU - You cup his face and ask, as gently as you possibly can, "Why are you doing this to yourself?"
PAIN THRESHOLD [Legendary: Success] - To flood over the pain in his chest.
INLAND EMPIRE [Heroic: Success] - To kill the half of his heart that comes alive for you tonight. To wreck himself against your reef in the storm. To fall martyr to Her agent yet unborn.
KIM KITSURAGI - Eyes wide, he opens his mouth to say something, but chokes on the tears he’s struggling to hold back. He turns his face to kiss your palm, exhales shakily as he breathes, "I've missed you."
PAIN THRESHOLD [Legendary: Failure] - A dull pain tore at your chest in resonance.
EMPATHY [Formidable: Success] - This is the most open he's ever allowed himself to be, with you or with anyone. An involuntary reveal.
He’s good at hiding things. You didn't know how much of it is out of his innate pride, and how much is out of his wish to protect you. On his first day, the moment he walked out the door, he began to hide, albeit still clumsily. You caught glimpses of his hesitation, of the unfamiliarity when he looked at you, all delivering another blunt blow to your numb heart.
But you never thought it would be the last day. You had expected the parting, since he began to unconsciously edge closer to you every time he went to a new place, since you had to teach him so many basic little things, since he became more and more vulnerable and open, since you kissed him for the last time. But even when it came to the point where you had to hand his own secrets back to him, even when you knew that your time together was running out, you never expected that it would be your last day with him.
He grew rusty though, over the years without you, those defences now old and fragile, too vulnerable under your burning gaze. For there’s never been anyone else who sees him the way you do.
AUTHORITY [Legendary: Success] - And he would let you overpower him, willingly. Just like when you first taught him chess, as he checkmated you, you picked up your king and gave it a light kiss before handing it to him, willingly. He stepped into this game with the full intention of losing to you.
SEOLITE MAN - He bows his head a little, embarrassed. "I must seem absurd. I just... sorry."
EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - He knows this isn't what you asked for, when all you meant to do was have fun tonight. He’s waiting for you to back out.
INLAND EMPIRE [Formidable: Success] - And yet, even though you didn't quite understand what you saw just then, there’s still something besides pity that convinced you, if you just leave him like that, you would never forgive yourself.
YOU - So you lean in and gently kiss his trembling lips. "Shhhh, it's all right. It's okay." You still want to hold the broken pieces of him, with all the care you can manage, even though he'd rather you just smashed him till there's nothing left, even though nothing you do would make a difference.
DAY 1????
And so Harry grows annoyingly careful, his hips rolling up in slow rhythm, obviously trying his best to be patient. Kim doesn't even know where he got the self-control. Clumsily tender. Hatefully compassionate. As if Kim would fall apart any second. Kim wants to mock him, challenge him, provoke him to get rough. He wants to say he's not going to break, even though it's already taking all his willpower to force himself not to wince with every movement.
And who is he kidding here, tonight he's destined to break.
Harry leans in and nuzzles his ear, his breath warm against him, "Relax," as if Kim was the inexperienced one, but his body does go weak in response, a jolt of electricity shooting straight to his tailbone. Those lips wander down to suck at the side of his neck, tongue tracing his pulsing vein, and all Kim can do is shiver and hold him tight, like he did in a million dreams. Harry slowly withdraws a bit, his arms tense with supporting Kim's weight, but incredibly firm against Kim's open, bare thighs, and pushes in again, the tight muscles of his stomach brushing against Kim's slowly filling cock through the fabric.
Gradually Kim grows used to the pain and begins to meet his thrusts, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair. Occasionally he presses his elbow down to prop himself up a bit, for better control over his hips, grinding against Harry, running one hand over his sweaty chest and rubbing one nipple through the soaked fabric and gently clenching around Harry in time with the rhythm, instantly throwing Harry off his pace. A few fast, rough buck of his hips, and Harry tries to take back control.
Kim keeps teasing him, provoking him, wanting to make Harry fuck him harder, wreck him without mercy, and Harry does pick up his pace and force, but wouldn't go any rougher. It’s taking more and more out of Kim, who only gets more and more frustrated, as Harry becomes less and less susceptible. In the end there’s almost nothing Kim can do to tip him over to the rough side as Harry balances himself steady and perfect over that thin, blurry line - Harry must have guessed what Kim’s trying to do here, but just wouldn't give him what he wants, even though it must be far easier for him to just let go, when Kim’s just a stranger to him, a stranger who has thrown himself at him and begged him to fuck him to pieces, so why would Harry…?
Kim frowns and props himself up again, letting gravity do its work, slamming down on Harry, hoping he would take the hint, but instead what he did only lets Harry crash hard into his prostate. For a moment it feels like all his bones have turned into jelly, and he can't hold back his moans. With a loud groan Harry goes still, but obviously senses something going on and draws out a little, tentatively going back and forth around the spot a few more times, and Kim finds his fingers climbing up Harry’s back and sinking in. Harry, apparently encouraged by Kim’s reaction, goes straight for that spot. Kim can't say if it’s intuition or experience behind this - an inexplicable jealousy flashes through Kim's mind - but right then Harry slams hard into him, and he’s unable to think anymore, his mind blank with waves and waves of pleasure flooding over him. An inordinate amount of time passes, could be a moment or a lifetime, then Harry's rough hand grips his erection, his thumb rubbing pre-cum over the head, stroking in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.
Between the exploding pleasure he no longer has the strength to resist, nor the willpower to change anything, so he begins to let it all just happen, to finally drown into the sweet closeness of their intertwined bodies. He seeks out Harry's lips, dazed and mournful, and is instantly met with a kiss, exchanging the bitterness in his mouth and the pain in his breath. Every vague memory of past intimacy, every invisible imprint all over his body hidden by time, now luminous once again, so sweet that he wants to weep. This isn’t what he wanted. He wanted a goodbye that hurts good enough to crush his soul, to swiftly chop off what he thought was a long-dead limb, not to let blood flow through it anew, not to rekindle the addiction that has been dead for years, right when the only thing that can satisfy him will be gone again in no time, and he doesn't know how he’s going to survive another withdrawal.
Naturally he will, in the end. There’s nothing he can't survive without. Everything comes with an expiry date. Clinging won't help.
But how is it possible to not cling on, how is he to get out of his bones the longing for his only home? Why doesn't he get to keep anything? Why did Harry come back to him tonight? Why can't he just get a nice, clean break, once and for all?
Because one doesn't just get what one wants.
And he gets Harry. Over twenty years and one night of Harry.
Harry.
Harry.
"Harry..."
Kim sighs, shuddering as he comes. The man in front of him stills momentarily before finally jerking his hips a few more times and falling onto Kim.
Kim gasps helplessly, tear streaks on his face slowly drying out in the wind. Distantly, he feels Harry pulling out and his legs being released, feet back on the ground, his jeans still hanging around his right ankle. He tries to put weight on his legs, only to find them weak and trembling. He would have slipped to the ground were it not for Harry holding him up.
"Do you think you can stand?" He thinks he hears Harry ask him. He’s not sure if he answered or not, but next thing he knows, someone’s holding his left ankle and lifting his leg as Kim concentrates on trying to keep his balance. His foot’s being guided into something. His jeans. A boot. Harry picks up his belt almost left forgotten on the ground, lifts his jeans, putting them back on for him. Kim only falls into his arms, face buried in his shoulder, shaking, glasses askew, pressed against his face.
Harry wraps his arms around Kim and says softly, "Let me take you home, yeah?"
Kim shakes his head. Once he steps out of Harry's arms, there’s no home for him anymore.
"Come on. I don't trust you to go back on your own," he adds with a smile as if afraid Kim would doubt his intentions, "I won’t try anything funny, I promise."
Kim would rather Harry come and kill him instead.
Kim doesn't live far away. Even though every step he takes needs Harry's assistance and his body is hurting all over, he still wishes his damn flat was in fucking Oranje. When they reach his door, Harry watches him struggle to put the key into the keyhole, still hovers there and not leaving. Kim swings the door open and stands there silently holding the door handle, not wanting to enter, yet afraid to turn around.
"Hey," Kim hears the rustle of rummaging, the sound of pencil on paper, and turns just in time to see Harry finish his scribbling. He hands the scrap of paper to Kim.
"My number," he says a little hesitantly, then hastily adds, "Just, if you ever need someone, even if it’s just to talk..." he shrugs shyly, chattering away, his voice smaller and smaller.
Kim takes the note and looks up at Harry, meeting his sincere and worried eyes, and a painful tenderness swells in his chest.
"...I don't know your name yet, though you seem to know mine..."
"You will," Kim whispers, reaching out to pull Harry into a kiss, gentle and slow, and pushes him away just before he bursts into tears, closing the door behind him. He leans against it, listens to the silence, to Harry’s fading footsteps as he finally walks away. He lifts the note to his lips and quietly sobs.
Countdown: 312 Days to Go
YOU - You take the fragile slip of paper away from your lips and carefully resealed it, but still can't help touching it through the plastic, another surge of tears streaming down from your sore, aching eyes.
VOLITION [Godly: Failure] - Are you really worth it?
EMPATHY [Impossible: Success] - He thinks you are worth it.
- The End -
I have to say this series is definitely the highlight of my shipping years… I’ve had the honour to see AMAZING artists make ABSOLUTELY EXQUISITE artwork based on this silly fic… What did I ever do to deserve this thank you all so much😭😭😭(in reverse chronological order)
https://twitter.com/lengtherdoodle/status/1501380097462308871 by the lovely Leng @lengtherdoodle
https://twitter.com/guchaigue/status/1499984005860495361 by the amazing lana @guchaigue
https://m.weibo.cn/7294699681/4683229724150351 by my darling gf ian
Also I think Ric (@jay_you_and_g on twitter) deserves special honours for making me bawl my eyes out and frantically brainstorm more angsty ideas until 4 am… everybody go check out her amazing art of little Kim and his imaginary friend😭😭😭
https://twitter.com/jay_you_and_g/status/1501178033998381066
I was gonna translate this sequel and just be DONE with this AU but then I saw her art and my heart just broke in a completely new way so to hell with it imma write another sequel to channel the pain… maybe no one will read it because who needs more pain in their life??? But I’m gonna do it anyway😭😭😭
I’m endlessly grateful to you beautiful beautiful talented people😭😭😭 Thank you all so much for liking my silly fic enough to take the time and effort to make something so brilliant… And also, a sincere thank you to all who read this, for coming this far with me along this heartwrenching journey… ;w;
创作翻译不易，如果你喜欢我的作品，欢迎来微博啊提问箱啊给我一点点鼓励！反馈是创作者的生命线，每一个表达喜爱的字都让我们付出的心血少一分孤单。❤
