A/N: Alright, so I've taken it upon myself to do that 1sentence challenge thing on LJ. This is the Alpha set, and I've decided to do one of my favorite pairings of all time, Tsukasa/Ikuto! 8D Some are from Ikuto's POV, others are from Tsukasa's.
I've taken a few liberties with this, like suggesting that Tsukasa and Aruto had an illicit affair of sorts going on behind the scenes. I've also gotten a lot of info about Tsukasa and Ikuto's back story from the manga, so… yeah. Enjoy! ;)
Ikuto still remembers the nightmares he had as a child, terrifying enough to rouse him from his sleep, but more than anything he remembers the warm, comforting embrace that was always there to lull him right back again.
Their first kiss is not romantic – it is needy and unrefined, the kiss of a sad, beautiful boy acting upon youthful infatuation.
The snow is soft and cool as it lands on the tip of the young boy's nose, making his violet eyes widen and his companion laugh.
Tsukasa sees the terrible pain etched on Ikuto's face, caused by a deep, jagged gash in his shoulder, and he knows the boy will never admit that he needs help.
They've come a long way from those days, when Ikuto was sometimes forced to play for their dinner, but both of them still tend to avoid the dreaded potatoes at all costs…
Ikuto opens the door of the planetarium to leave, sees that it has begun to rain, and promptly decides to wait out the storm (cats hate getting wet, after all).
Tsukasa is not much of a baker, but on Ikuto's seventh birthday he spends hours slaving away in the kitchen, up to his arms in chocolate frosting, in order to make the boy a misshapen birthday cake.
He's not sure he knows what happiness is anymore (Easter has stolen it all away), but the feeling he gets when Tsukasa holds him close is something akin to ecstasy.
"You're never at home, and you don't have a cell phone, and I can't call to check up on you," Tsukasa says worriedly, "so you really ought to stop by more often."
Ikuto doesn't understand Tsukasa's preoccupation with his cat ears – all he knows is that ear massages after a long day feel damn good.
Ikuto's name means "many constellations," and because of this Tsukasa often tells him, jokingly of course, that they must be meant for one another.
Tsukasa watches Ikuto fight, lean muscles rippling, midriff exposed, claws gleaming in the moonlight, sweat glistening against his skin, and he can't help but be entranced by this breathtaking, deadly dance.
"Do you think my father is dead?" he asked once, voice sad and quiet, and Tsukasa responded, "I hope not," though these days he's not so sure.
Their bodies move together in unison, a single entity blinded by the heat of passion, overtaken by pain and pleasure and want and need, and for something so wrong it feels so completely right.
Lazy, languid fingers ghost across pale, perfect skin, leaving fire in their wake, causing the teen to shiver with exhilaration and lust.
He hasn't changed much, Tsukasa thinks – under his mask of indifference Ikuto is still a scared little boy, afraid to show the world his limitations.
The child cries tears of gladness, leaning into his companion's embrace, for he knows now that the sound of his father's violin is not a cursed one.
"My, that was fast," Tsukasa says, chuckling lightly, and Ikuto's face turns an almost impossible shade of red.
Wind is howling outside their run-down apartment, rattling the shutters and causing the whole building to creak and groan, and he's over by the portable stove making hot chocolate for two.
All he's ever wanted is to be free, wandering the back streets like an alley cat, but he'd gladly throw it all away if he and Tsukasa could just live together in peace.
He has always had a sixth sense of sorts – a knowledge of events that have yet to come to pass – but even he can't tell what hardships life might throw at them next.
He finds the photo, the one the old woman handed him all those years ago, tucked away in a box under Tsukasa's bed, and he wonders if it's immoral to be jealous of one's own father.
His hands are delicate but strong, beautiful but distant, graceful but sharp, and Ikuto can't help but think they would look lovely dancing across ivory piano keys.
Ikuto never cared much for chamomile tea until the day Tsukasa's lips tasted of it.
"One's life is their most precious commodity," Tsukasa says to his young nephew, "and there is only one person in this world that I would gladly take a bullet for."
They stand on a moonlit balcony, content in their silence, gazing up at the pale darkness of the sky, and both of them wish that this moment could last an eternity.
Sometimes he has to remind himself that although they may be blood-related, and though they may be alike in many ways, Ikuto is not Aruto (and he never will be).
Ikuto's fever breaks sometime in the early morning hours, when the birds are just beginning to awaken and the sun is rising in the east, and the boy is both surprised and touched to find Tsukasa still sitting by his bedside.
Sometimes he plays for him, drawing the bow across the strings to create a melody so haunting and mournful that he feels his heart must be breaking, shattering into a thousand shards.
According to his star charts, Vega is supposed to be quite bright and lovely tonight, but Ikuto always comes before his silly little hobbies.
Tsukasa once asked him where he considered home to be, and Ikuto responded simply, "Wherever you are."
He speaks in riddles most of the time, or so it seems, for no matter the question the answer is always mystifying and open-ended.
Ikuto likes to pretend that nothing scares him, but he can't deny the debilitating fear that grips his heart when he arrives one day to find the planetarium dusty and deserted.
They are sitting on a hillside, watching a thunderstorm roll in from the north when he first realizes he loves Tsukasa – streaks of white hot lightning reflect in the young man's calm purple eyes, and Ikuto's heart is beating out a fast-paced rhythm in his chest.
Tsukasa knows instinctively that something is wrong, for Ikuto never willingly speaks of the past.
"You spent all your money at the market!?" the child shouts, face flushed with anger and cold and disbelief, and the young man in front of him just smiles sheepishly.
Tsukasa's eyes brighten considerably as he reads about the latest advancements in astrophotography, the high-tech cameras and lenses and resolutions, and he tries to explain the importance of them to a thoroughly bored Ikuto.
"You're free now," he whispers, "and the world is yours for the taking."
Ikuto's smile is rare and fleeting, a precious jewel that must be excavated from layers of cold, dark apathy, but Tsukasa thinks it is well worth the effort.
The sheets are a tangled mess, Ikuto is sleeping soundly against his chest, and the flames of guilt are licking at his skin, burning him alive, for he has stolen this boy's innocence.
Tsukasa finishes his busywork and stares impatiently at the clock, acutely aware of the oppressive silence, wondering why he feels so very empty when Ikuto's not around.
The young man and the child sit together in the garden, gazing up at the endless blue of the sky, watching as fluffy clouds change and transform into delicate wisps of white.
Ikuto asks him just what it is that he sees in the night sky, and he replies, "Possibility."
The violet-eyed boy asks if he believes in heaven, and Tsukasa can only smile sadly, because once upon a time he did.
Tsukasa is not a religious man, but he's read a bit of Dante, and sometimes he still ponders on which circle of hell he would be sent to if such a thing existed (he's thinking the seventh).
Neither of them likes the daytime very much – both cats and astronomers are known to be nocturnal creatures – but they'll allow themselves a little fun in the sun if it means spending more time together.
"The moon is a lot like your average human being," Tsukasa says, one eye to the telescope, "for although it may seem flawless from a distance, once you look more closely you will see all sorts of distortions – jagged cliffs and empty craters."
Their relationship, he thinks, is much like waves breaking against a cliff during a storm – each one crashes with more strength and passion than the next, but sooner or later the cliff will begin the crumble, torn apart by the violence of the sea.
Ikuto glances up at him, his hair disheveled and pushed hastily to one side, and he looks so much like Aruto in this moment that Tsukasa forgets to breathe.
He doesn't care about the workings of the universe (life is happening right here, right now, not off in some dark corner of space), but he listens to Tsukasa's passionate monologue anyhow, wondering if stars ever truly die.