Dreams and Gray Ribbons | By : themusicliveson Category: +S to Z > XXXholic Views: 2232 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHOLiC or its characters. This story has been written for enjoyment and nothing more. I'm making no money from this story. |
Watanuki wouldn’t exactly call himself an expert on the subjects of dreams, but he knew enough to know his dreams were very far from what was considered normal. Normal dreams were never bought and traded in the shape of brightly colored balloons and they never included conversations with the dead.
Yet it doesn’t bother Watanuki when Haruka shows up in his dreams, always accompanied by the gray haze of cigarette smoke. It doesn’t strike him as out of the ordinary to sit and talk with the older man about what is happening in the “real” world like though they’re old friends as Haruka exhales ribbons of smoke that curl around them like vines.
It does strike him as a little odd, for a moment but it‘s fleeting, when he ends up straddling Haruka’s lap as the man presses light kisses and small bites against his collarbone, but it’s easy for Watanuki to tell himself it’s a dream despite how solid and real Haruka feels when he digs his fingernails into his shoulders.
Dreams are funny things and there’s no guarantee Haruka is even here right now. After all, Watanuki is a teenage boy and isn’t it possible, just this once, that this whole thing is a bizarre wet dream his mind cooked up? Stranger things have happened to him surely.
That’s why he doesn’t stop himself when his hands leave Haruka’s shoulders to trail upwards and fist in his short hair in a desperate attempt to pull him closer. He doesn’t stop to think about how he’s wrapped around somebody with Doumeki’s face - somebody he barely knows, somebody who has been dead for who knows how long. Instead, he just pulls Haruka closer and allows the older man to slip off his clothes before he arches against him as a sure and steady hand wraps around him.
However, Watanuki can’t stop himself from coloring bright red when he wakes up with undeniably bruised lips and the unmistakable scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his clothing and hair.
Author's Note: This one is, oh man, years old? And I just never got around to posting it anywhere. And I plan on rewriting it soon because it's average at best. And it's currently unbetaed! Yay!
Reviews, especially constructive criticism, are always welcome.
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