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Quiet Times


Blue's eyes are red and his hair is silver, but his mind's touch is gold.

Gold is all Jomy sees as he is tucked by Blue's side. His head rests beneath the Soldier's chin, eyes trailing to that pale slender of neck. He can feel his pulse synchronizing with Blue's, the smell of skin enveloping him like a heady scent. Blue's bare hands tangle through the back of Jomy's head, massaging physically and mentally the headache he knows is there.

This is Jomy's favorite part of the day.

He sighs and bumps his nose against Blue's Adam apple, loving the intimacy of touch, of the comfort of warmth and heat and hands.

Jomy closes his eyes again. Gold, like his mother's buttered toast and his father's favorite tie, like afternoon walks and warm sunshine. Blue's presence in his mind is a gentle hum, fading soothingly into the background like a balm.

He feels the Soldier breathe heavily against him, and for a moment, feels regret slip through the cracks of his mind like runny tar. Blue catches the feeling, and sighs as the boy pulls away.

"What's wrong, Jomy?" Blue asks out loud, and Jomy thinks he'll never tire of that voice. All the more reason to treasure these moments, when Blue communicates with his voice instead of his mind. It's tangible, physical, and Jomy doesn't have to wonder if it's all in his head.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Blue turns Jomy's jaw with a finger, frowning slightly. It's such a weary expression on his handsome face, and Jomy is suddenly reminded of Blue's true age. The frown is a warning—Blue's face is seldom without an easy, gentle smile.

"Lies have no place with me, Jomy Marquis Shin. I want to help you, but you're so difficult sometimes."

"Don't talk to me like that." Jomy snaps, jerking his face away, "I'm not a child."

"Aren't you?" Blue's eyes soften, and his lips trail a pathway from the boy's cheek to his lips. Jomy at fourteen has a man's height and strength, but his clear eyes betray the age of his soul. "Oh my. Are you sulking?"

"Don't bully me, Blue. I'm not in the mood."

"Alright," Blue placidly consents, "But don't think I'll ask you again later."

Jomy scowls and places his forehead against the pulse on Blue's neck. Blue sighs and runs one hand down the boy's back, holding him in place.

Hugs can be double-edged swords, Jomy thinks. They can either protect you or cage you, and though Blue's hand is warm and reassuring, part of him wants to pull away and remember himself. Blue's presence is never only physical. His mind twines around Jomy's whenever they're locked like this as well, and there is no corner in the recesses of Jomy's mind that doesn't shine gold. They're never individuals like this, but rather, a single soul halved into two bodies. It awes Jomy sometimes, and scares him as well. Blue holds every inch of him. His body, his mind, his heart…

Well. Jomy isn't sure if his heart can take it if Blue di—leaves them. Him.

"I love you." Jomy murmurs quietly, and even he isn't sure if he can hear it. Blue understands, and never doubts the sincerity of Jomy's words.

"I love you too, Jomy." Blue says, smiling as a flush steals the boy's face away. Blue is never afraid to profess his love, whether it be for his subordinates, his people, and especially towards Jomy. He is Soldier Blue, after all. Their leader, their hero, their trendsetter. Mu culture wouldn't be so affectionate had anyone else stepped up to the plate. The Mu love him because he loves them in that gentle, undeniable way of his. His peace keeps them at peace, and now that he's been so weak lately…

Jomy blinks in horror at the moisture pooling in his eyes at the sound of Blue's absolute conviction. "But, Blue…you're dying. Because of me." The thoughts are hard to suppress from their telepathic link. Jomy loses his grip and lets his insecurities wash out to Blue, control slipping through his fingers like water.

A few moments is all Blue needs. "Oh, Jomy. You silly, silly, thing." A kiss to the temple. "While it is true that you cause me more worry than healthy, you take too much credit for my poor shape." Another kiss to the corner of the mouth. "I'm simply getting old. I've been like this the past century."

Jomy mutters under his breath. Something about three-hundred year old pedophiles bedding children, or the like.

"Yes, I'm dying," Blue announces, startling the boy, "but so are you, and everyone else. Though we live quite long by human standards, we are not immortal. Nothing lasts forever."

"Will this, though?" Jomy shyly twines their fingers together.

Blue eyes are soft. Jomy isn't asking for the sake of it. He wants security, reassurances, a bit of coddling. Blue will promise him everything if he simply asks for it. "Of course."

There's another kiss; it's slow and sweet and everything happiness should feel like. Jomy closes his eyes and sees nothing but gold.

I want cuddles with Blue too!