|harukami (harukami) wrote,|
@ 2008-02-17 09:44:00
|Entry tags:||digital devil saga, springkink|
[fic] Digital Devil Saga, "Understanding"
Warnings: Spoilers for end of DDS2
Word Count: 420
Author's Notes: For the springkink prompt: Digital Devil Saga, Heat/Seraph: comfort - why would we be angry when we can understand?
For all that he blusters his way through it with a self-deprecating smile and a I'm here for you, Heat doesn't honestly expect them to just accept that.
The smile they'd given him after they had taken him back embarrassed him more, and he'd lapsed into an awkward tongue-tied, silence, waiting to find something to say, waiting for things to change again.
He tries not to bring it up. He tries. They make it up three layers of the sun before he even brings himself to say more than small-talk to them, awkward both because of his lack of familiarity with small-talk and because of his lack of familiarity with talking to them any more.
When he can't hold off any longer, it comes out abrupt, choked up. "Uh, hey, you -- uh..."
They turn; Seraph smiles at him. "Heat?"
He can't tell if it's easier or harder like this, Sera's voice and Serph's gaze, but he squares his shoulders, glances to the side, and tries. "You, uh. You really don't..."
"Don't what? Heat," they say, and Seraph reaches up, puts a hand against his cheek. "Is something wrong still?"
He realizes: they don't get it. They really don't understand what's wrong here -- don't understand why he might still worry. He opens his mouth, finds no words, makes a disgruntled noise and tries again. "I betrayed you," he says. "Both of you. So how can you... trust me?"
They look at him as if the question still makes no sense. "Well," Seraph points out, tentatively. "You told me you were here for me. I just... believe you, Heat."
And suddenly he's choking up inside. He wants to grab them, hold them, crush them against him like he could become one with them like they have with each other. He wants to mutter their names over and over, wants to kiss them hard and fast and thorough.
Instead he tightens his fists and doesn't say anything, doesn't even move. He's made that mistake once already. He doesn't want to do it again. He's got too much to lose.
Seraph's brows crease. "Oh, Heat," they say, softly. They float up, lean forward, and their lips touch his forehead. "You make things so complicated sometimes."
Where their lips touched him tingles; he feels a warmth spreading out from it and, despite himself, relaxes a little. Carefully, slowly, he reaches up and puts his arms around them, waiting for them to pull back.
They don't; instead, Seraph smiles again.
He tries a tentative smile back. "Maybe you're right," he says. They believe it; isn't it enough?