Title: the quiet things that no one ever knows
Series: Card Captor Sakura
Word count: 1071
A/N: comment_fic:Card Captor Sakura, Touya/Yukito, lending him a jacket / 52_flavours 38 ) Your soul is my soul clenched in my fist. Spoilers for the whole series.
It's the slushy, dark, grey latter end of fall. The snow isn't even pretty, more a dirty muck that's congealed with the dirt to become a brown mush. Yukito kicks around in it anyways. The smallest things amuse him, even road muck. They walk home together every day like this. Sometimes they ride the bus, but Touya is short this week because he bought Sakura a little something. He does that on occasion, brings home treat he knows she will like. Yukito often pitches in too, at least when he can spare the expense.
Touya always teases her too, says that she's a brat and that he found it in the garbage. He doesn't fool anyone with this play, and he doesn't really mean to. He is just doing what all brothers do: tease their sisters without any trace of mercy.
The road meanders to a side street, and the sounds of traffic fade as they take this shortcut. There's better windbreak here, and the neighborhood isn't too bad. Besides, after he's seen his kid sister fight magic creatures, some punk kid with a knife is laughable. Other than this, there is always the promise of Yue hidden under Yukito's smile. If they ever were attacked, all that sweetness would peel back to the coldness of Yue in a second. He knows this, and by now, even Yukito knows this. Even if Yukito only began as a mask, he is now a separate entity of his own, Yue's antithesis, a thing wholly created by magic, yet a living thing still. Yukito prefers the days, while Yue tends to come out at nights. Yue stays with him, bathed in moonlight, his protector and companion. When he touches Yue, he knows that there is always a trace of Yukito there too. Even the moon is just the sun's light reflected back.
Touya breathes on his hands, and shoves them into his pockets. That'll teach him to forget his gloves. He'd just got off a long shift of being a busboy, and his neck is still stiff. But Yukito is there, so his irritation falls back and that familiar calm settles around him. It isn't gone entirely, but it's banished to some far place where he can only just feel its presence. It is almost impossible to remain in a sour mood around Yukito, for Yukito seems to draw any anger or unhappiness away, like drawing poison from a wound.
Yukito slips off one of his white, downy gloves that was a gift from Sakura for Valentine's day. They have little white pom-poms in the shapes of rotund bunnies with black eyes, and a faux fur lining around the wrist. Yukito puts it in his hand and looks up at him in an innocent and eager way he had.
"Put it on your other hand," Yukito says.
Touya complies, putting it on his left hand, leaving his right free. His fingers tingle from the cold, and he squeezes his hand into a fist. The material is dainty, he almost feels like he could break it if he wasn't careful.
Yukito slips his hand in Touya's, and while the cold doesn't entirely go away, it's lessened to a more tolerable amount. Less like frostbite, at least. Yukito smiles up at him.
"See, isn't that better?"
Touya frowns. "That coat isn't warm enough for today."
"Oh? It seemed like it'd be warm today, or at least warmer. It looked so sunny–"
He fingers the material, it's little more than a windbreaker. He knows that Yukito has little sense of too cold and too hot, so it is he who has to guard him from the elements. Yukito doesn't sense things like he does. Pain too has little effect on him. Yukito has come to him with large cuts, gashes end, and only a shrug and a smile to explain how he got there.
"Come here," he says.
It's too cold to give up his coat entirely, but it's large enough for his purpose. It's a good thing he pulled out one of his father's old trenchcoats for today. He pulls Yukito the rest of the way to him, against his chest and rests the coat around them both. They still hold hands inside the warmth of Touya's coat.
He leans into Yukito, presses his lips against his head and kisses his forehead. He holds his lips there for a long moment, his hand tight about Yukito's.
"Is that better?"
"Yes, it's much better. Though It will take a long time to get home like this."
"Father is working late, and Sakura is Skyeping with Syaoran now. She won't miss us."
This is an improvement. Before he referred to Syaoran simply as him or that boy. No boy is good enough for his little sister and Touya feels it is his job, no duty, even calling to disapprove of anyone who goes after her. Their father is entirely too nice about it. Someone has to make the boy who was going to date his sister shake in his boots under the weight of his glare. Touya is just that person.
Of course, Yukito won't be much help here. He is just as nice as Touya's father. Not that Touya minds; he has enough disapproving frowns for both of them.
"Well, if it's like that, then we can take all day, can't we?"
Yukito smiles in a way he's always weak to. His glasses are fogged from the heat of Touya's breath and the cold. He can't see his mother anymore; only Yukito, and at times, Yue. Two sides of the coin, as different as night and day, quite literally. But it's Yukito he wants to keep his gaze on, and all this time of waiting and watching over very little has changed in the long run. Even if Yukito has a hidden side, who doesn't? It makes no difference.
Touya doesn't say anything. Anything with words, anyways. He kisses Yukito, and their skin warms from the touch. He kisses Yue too, somewhere deep hidden under Yukito's skin.
They just stand there, hidden in side streets with no one around. He doesn't care about the rest of the world right now, just Yukito in all his forms.