Field in Spring (sfw) (cw: drowning)

[descendsanathema]

Kalluto's body twitches under the blankets, curled forward, arms huddled around himself.

In his dream, he sees Killua in the mirror, and he's back in his room, the reflection the same except for the two of them. Their hands are touching. Killua is asking if he's okay, if he knows where he is. Blue sparks surge as they realise there's a nearby place they can meet. The mirror isn't working, but Kalluto can get away and be safe.

A throbbing pain between his eyes. It's pure nen, a Condition he agreed to before he left them the first time. He hears Illumi's voice, hears him reacting to what they're talking about. Killua can't hear him, but Kalluto can hear them both, can't hear who Illumi's talking to, but they're coordinating. They know where Killua will be.

"A stronger needle, in the heart, not the skull this time. He controls that thing more completely than we expected."

Kalluto can't call out, there's a pressure in his throat pushing back against the air. He feels light-headed, and Killua can see. He hasn't heard any of the developments, but he can see into Kalluto's eyes. Kalluto stops, marshals his energy, uses his paper to cut, and he screams. Killua can hear it.

It's cut short by water, so much water, surging down his throat. He's knocked backwards, spluttering, then gargling, then drowning, then realises he hasn't touched the ground. He's floating in water that's pushing against him from all directions.

He forces himself to face the mirror. As his vision begins to fade, he's dimly aware that he saw an army of butlers appear out of nowhere in Killua's hotel room - Kalluto's room. He can't hear Killua's voice, but as his brother is being dragged away from the mirror, Kalluto swears he can read his lips, or there's paper that Illumi never touched that he's using to talk.

Comments

[devil_or_angle]

*killua steps down the ornate, spiraling staircase of melody's balcony and into the breezy field below it, the wild white locks of his hair fluttering along with the sea of grass and flowers before him. the soft sunlight illuminates his path toward the picnic blanket laid out in the center, where a lone form lies under an umbrella amongst scattered boxes of sweets. melody said he'd find his brother here, fast asleep in her idyllic dreamscape of spring, but she hadn't warned him that his own dreams may not match his surroundings. he finds him shifting restlessly beneath the sheet she'd left him, scrunched up face betraying more vulnerability than it ever would in waking. crouching beside him in concern, killua gives his shoulder a gentle shake.*

kalluto. wake up.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto feels a familiar hand take his shoulder. Water flows around past and through him as he struggles to move and breath but skirts past the hand and his shoulder, his body shoved around like a ragdoll around his shoulder, now an anchoring point in free space. He uses it for leverage, this steel pillar somehow bolted into nothing as he passes under, over and around it with his lithe, supple frame - and curls up, protecting his chest, still struggling to breathe, tucked in a little ball both in the dream and in reality.*

Kalluto. Wake up.

*He coughs, wracking his body with the motions, then shivering because he isn't cold anymore, had no idea how cold the water was until he was outside of it in the sun, and scoots backwards, pushing off the ground, needing badly to be enveloped by the voice, recognising his brother's scent before the person attached.

His nose learned to tell before his heart or his mind could. This was not the brother that abandoned him.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua grips kalluto's shoulder firmly even as he shakes and struggles, tethering him to reality until he finally wakes and snaps the thread. torn from his shoulder, killua's hand hovers between them, spread open in caution.*

woah, hey.

*he eyes him curiously, watching his bare midsection heave with panting breaths.*

bad dream?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto closes his eyes, trembling all over his body, hitched breaths and hiccups jerking pieces of his body to and fro.

He leans forward, then crawls, somehow stumbling his forehead against his brother's chest with disjointed motions which still betray innate grace and poise.

He empties his lungs, then takes everything in. This brother's scent, separated from that of the Killua in his own world by a widening canyon, comforts him as part of the pain veers towards a distant horizon. Sweet, dewey spring air, laden with possibility, courses through him at a pace that's calming to match the warm metronome against his face, which Kalluto is nuzzling to feel as much as he can.*

I couldn't save you.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's lungs hitch as kalluto's breathe him in, his throat choking with a sudden swell of emotion at his brother's needy nuzzling. he's reminded, suddenly, of a long-buried memory of young kalluto escaping the nursery just to stand at the foot of his bed and tug, teary-eyed, at the edge of his blanket until he woke and coddled him back to sleep after a nightmare. nights like these were always a bittersweet affair for killua, armed with the knowledge that the torture kalluto would soon endure when he started his training would be worse than anything he could dream up.

humbled by the realization that he still plays this same, soothing role in his little brother's mind, he drops slowly to his knees on the blanket, providing him a more stable place to rest as he tentatively wraps his arms around his shoulders and pats his silky head.*

didn't have to. i'm right here.

*he doesn't tell him how close he came to dying recently, how in fact it was their other sibling who had been the one to save him. he doesn't have to, not when his beating heart is already telling him all he needs to know. glancing down at him, he wonders aloud,*

where have you been?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto shivers as his head is stroked, and clamps his eyes shut, back to trying to hide suddenly burning tears. He supposed, with some levity, that if Melody was watching them, she'd have the tact to not mention this. It felt right and not right at the same time that the two brothers should hide emotions from each other.

This isn't how Kalluto was imagining this to go. Envisioned himself carefully entreating onto some fortress, his brother barking conditions over an intercom, his sister tucked away safe somewhere but with long, invisible tendrils wrapped around Killua. It was just them, in a beautiful field, and even though Kalluto had never spoken to him, Killua was arriving here on Kalluto's terms.

He had the horrific thought, then, that this Killua, who never returned home after the first time they ran away, still knew nothing of the depths his family would resort to in the future. What was in his dream? Something he'd forgotten about the family's plan to keep Killua close by, even if he escaped. Something Illumi argued with Grandpa about. All of this came with an aftertaste sweet as his brother's casually ebbing aura - had Killua been awakened already? - that this was enough for Killua, that he was already done with the family, that for Kalluto it could be so simple too, and he wouldn't have to agonise over where to choose any more.*

Promise?

*Dragging his arms, he pushed his hands off the ground, hurled them around and squeezed Killua tight, tumbling into himself over how automatic and fitting that reply and response were, then flitting and careening in completely new directions when Killua finished speaking. He held tighter.*

I've been... avoiding you.

*He wasn't ready to disclose why, suddenly aware again how precarious this whole situation was, how scared he was that his brother would go away again. He didn't understand any of that.*

Why do I remember this? We never spent much time together.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua locks his arms tighter around kalluto at the plea for a promise, catching him as he rears up and flings his body against his. his grip loosens, however, when he admits he's been avoiding him, pulling back just enough so he can try and meet his eyes, determine what exactly he desires. his body language suggests, overwhelmingly, that he still wants them to be close, face burrowed in his breast and sun-soaked arms wrapped warm around his waist -- but his mind, as always, is impossible to read.

he supposes he's still struggling with letting go of the family he left behind, not quite as ready to run away from it all as killua was. well, all they have here is time, stretching out endlessly in all directions like the field around them.*

we did, before your training started... but my memories from back then are patchy.

*it aches his heart to realize that the few memories he does recall of kalluto's childhood are notoriously absent of his other younger sibling, the precious years before she was locked away wiped from his mind by their eldest brother. hearing how little he remembers, he wonders if something similar had been done to kalluto, too.*

[descendsanathema]

*Already slumped against his brother, he craned his neck up, forehead still pressing against their chest as bleary eyes peered up to meet Killua's gaze.

The tension was evident on his face as he strained to remember any of what Killua was talking about. It drained, down past his feet into nothingness, once Kalluto gave up on finding anything solid.*

All I remember is the training. It was my first...memory.

*That last word felt almost blasphemous on Kalluto's tongue for some reason. It wasn't exactly a secret within the family that Illumi manipulated the memories of targets, as well as people in close contact with them. There were subtle means of influencing someone who was needed, against their choice, for a certain role at a certain time, and otherwise had their free will. Other methods ran the gamut all the way up to using a needle to completely control someone, their life forfeit as soon as the mission was over.

Family were off limits. But he couldn't deny how right this felt, and Killua had no reason to be lying. The clarity he had in the cat room, tangled against his brother among the bean bags, was washing up against him, threatening to break in again.*

But I'm sure you're down there somewhere. Deeper than Illumi can reach.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua sighs bitterly, hating the thought that kalluto can't remember anything that isn't drenched in blood. but he's right about not everything being washed away. killua recalls that tug of longing that had led him to alluka before he even knew who she was, holding her deep within his heart even after his memories had faded. perhaps kalluto resides there, too, stowed away within him when he left home. his hand drifts up to idly brush through his hair again, the sense-memory of stroking him back to sleep all those years ago clinging to his fingertips.*

...yeah. there's some things even he can't take away. he messed with your memories, too, huh?

[descendsanathema]

...take away...

*There was something about feeling his brother's embrace like this and hearing those words that pulled something painful from deep down, almost at the beginning.*

"where is he?! where did you take him??"
"Kalluto. You're off task. Please begin your training drills for this morning. You know them."
"had a bad dream...where did he go!?
"This is not sustainable. I'll have to think of something. Come here, look up to my palm..."

*Kalluto cringed, pushing his slight frame forward against Killua's in the process, and dug his face against Killua's right side, suddenly feeling like Killua's left hand was a red-hot brand, ready to sear him with sinister markings, welts and twisted scars deep inside.

He sniffed, hiccuping against Killua's ribs, now nuzzling his whole face against Killua's right arm, almost nudging it crooked to guide that hand to where Killua was brushing just before.*

..Think he did..

[devil_or_angle]

*killua startles when kalluto pulls away from his combing hand like it had struck him, the strands of his raven hair slipping out from between his fingers as quickly as he'd caught them. he's prepared to let him go entirely if he doesn't want him touching him anymore, but conversely he just digs himself deeper into him, burrowing under his other arm. he lifts it slightly, peeking under it to try and meet his brother's eyes again.*

hey, where're you going?

*his hands are held up away from him, palms open in pacification.*

c'mon, let's just talk. *he juts a thumb over his shoulder at the scattered pastry boxes on the picnic blanket.* is that cake up for grabs?

[descendsanathema]

*Awareness catches up with Kalluto's body, and his body language eases. He peers up at Killua again, making comfortable eye contact, not self-conscious any more about the tears that welled up so instantly but have dried from the bottom up.*

Help yourself. There's... caramel slice, lemon tart, triple chocolate cheesecake, some pavlova with strawberries and kiwi fruit, and... caramel mousse.

And cream.

*His mood picks up as he goes over the marked boxes, distantly concluding that the stuff that needed to not be out in the sun must have popped up back here just before Killua arrived. He was yet to experience any direct antagonism from the airship itself, so he left it comfortably unquestioned why they were all within arm's reach of them both.

Kalluto crawls into his brother's lap, almost preparing to curl up between his thighs like a sleeping puppy, but stopping himself because he was much too big, now. He faced Killua, his head resting on their shoulder, arms around him, and a knee on either side of his hips. He clung, firmly, without restricting his brother's freedom to reach for desserts.*

Sorry. I know you're not him, but...

...well, let's talk. But I don't want to move yet.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's already reaching for the cheesecake before kalluto's finished describing the full array, but stops short when his brother crawls straight onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping his limbs around him like a baby koala. he's not sure what to make of it, his brow twitching in befuddlement before his hand tentatively continues its trajectory toward the indicated box of cake. he sits back once he's snatched it up, rearranging his legs into a wide criss-cross with more room for kalluto to sink into.*

no, it's just me. the killua you sort-of-remember.

*he doesn't blame him for shying away from a grasp, whether he likened it to illumi's or their mother's. the zoldycks aren't known for being gentle with their hands. but his hesitance to be touched contradicts this eagerness to touch in return, clinging to him like he's about to go up in smoke any second.*

well, i guess there's no way to tell if i'm the same killua you knew -- or, would have become him. *he tacks on, remembering that kalluto is from the future from their brief first conversation. slicing off a piece of the cheesecake, he carefully maneuvers it around the head over his shoulder and stuffs it in his mouth, not about to be deterred from eating no matter the position. he asks then, with his cheek full of chocolate:*

but there's also no way to tell that i'm not him, either. what's your killua like?

[descendsanathema]

I don't have... anything about that. Not really. Only what you've told me.

*He scrunches his face against Killua, more out of frustration than a desire for comfort. Taking a long, deep breath, he continues, wanting the incidental comfort to seep down into his bones.*

I saw you when Mum was telling you Gon and the others would never make it past the Testing Gates to reach you. And I saw you when you walked out with them. I didn't even speak to you either time, but I couldn't take my eyes away either. I didn't know why.

After that, I never saw you again.

[devil_or_angle]

*the motion of killua's jaw slows as kalluto tells him of the future he never lived. he's heard from others that illumi had infiltrated the exam to try and bring him home, but now he knows that he succeeded... and that gon came after him. of course.

he swallows his mouthful, lips curving in a smile as his eyes sparkle with emotion.*

gon. *his tone is soft, melancholy.* you've met him now, huh? here.

[descendsanathema]

*He sighed. The disjunction between the offshoots from the past that the airship offered, and his own present, was even more confusing in the case of Gon, because they had spoken often.*

I have met that Gon, yeah.

*With soft emphasis, Kalluto was more terse than he wanted to be, careful with his words, again wanting to safeguard how he feels. There was something his older brother said about Gon that applied to them both.*

He's... dazzling.

*Seeing how Killua's face lit up just thinking about Gon, he felt even more silly for unknowingly treading on something that he'd never understand or have for himself. In either world.*

[devil_or_angle]

yeah. he is, isn't he?

*once again, he can't keep the melancholy out of his tone, lingering wistfully on each word. he reaches for another scoop of cheesecake to choke his feelings.*

he told me you met. *he says through his next mouthful.* we're... kind of an item, or something.

*he wishes he could be more confident in that statement, but this is where the cheesecake comes in, forcing down the lump in his throat.*

it's gotten a bit... complicated.

[descendsanathema]

*It's only just now that Kalluto is picking up on Killua's tone, and he looks at Killua's face properly.

He clings tighter to Killua, a reflex driven by the question before he can even speak it.*

I heard. After the breakfast, after I'd parted ways with Gon.

*He could have sworn Melody had suggested the relationship in simpler terms. So Kalluto wondered what might have changed.*

Complicated. That's not... because of me, is it?

[devil_or_angle]

*killua shakes his head before kalluto even finishes the question, assuring him it's not his fault.*

no, it was complicated before you got here. let's just say, gon's not an easy one to tie down.

*impressions of his first friend, first partner flash through his mind like snippets from a film reel. the faces of his other lovers, the adrenaline of all the times killua's had to put himself in danger to save him when he's reckless. the rustic, woodsy smell of his cabin and the ever-shifting forms of his dæmon. he takes a break from the cheesecake to lean back and sigh.*

he's... wild.

[descendsanathema]

*As his brother seems to get lost in mixed nostalgia, demolishing the cheesecake quickly, Kalluto considers that things playing out this way with Gon might have been for the best. Kalluto remembered Gon as delectably passionate, but that level of drive without discipline to hone and direct it would launch someone in all directions. He brings his face up to being level with Killua's, staring into his eyes, nuzzling and buzzing Killua's body and shoulder as it travels.*

There's got to be a happy middle ground. Between the fatalism of our family and... complete anarchy.

*Ultimately, that path was always the same - rolling down hill, following the slope of the nearest immediate sensory pleasure, rather than fulfilment. Kalluto wasn't one to talk - he had had so few oportunities to indulge his whims as he pleased, and he'd taken most of them shamelessly.*

[devil_or_angle]

...maybe one day we'll be able to find it.

*the tingling pressure of his brother's face nuzzling into him brings him back to the present, and for the first time since sitting down he takes a moment to fully appreciate his little brother's slight weight on his lap, the delicate firmness of his limbs wrapped around him and that dark, lash-lined stare. with a sun-splash of color to his cheeks, he murmurs,*

...you're awfully clingy. he got you bad, huh?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto pouted.*

I thought I was getting him. But I don't really get what that means, exactly. It felt like I was putting on a jacket that ended up too warm, and he kept giving me mixed signals. And I don't know if I even want any of that!

*He deftly kissed Killua on the cheek, shifting his body forward a little, and craned his neck back when he pulled away, their positions very slightly closer from the neck down.*

I... I think I just want to be touched without thinking about any of that. Romance or... other stuff grown ups do. It's different if we're brothers, isn't it?

[devil_or_angle]

*though he’s relieved to hear that kalluto seemingly does not intend to become one of gon’s many lovers, what he does next has killua’s mind running in a different direction, all too aware of how close he’s quickly becoming to him.

with a subtle sway of his hips kalluto leans forward then back upon his lap, arching his spine so their stomachs press together, and killua’s flushes with heat, melting the cheesecake within. with one hand braced behind him on the picnic blanket, he tentatively reaches the other up to kalluto’s waist, heart fluttering when his fingers brush bare skin. suddenly, he realizes how much kalluto’s matured since he last saw him in his world, his years apart from killua putting them on nearly equal footing.

as his cheek tingles with the lingering touch of his brother’s lips, killua is reminded, with increasing, dizzying urgency, of the slippery slope of kisses that led his sister to ask him to be her boyfriend and then her husband — but still, he swallows his nerves, and says,*

i think so.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto whimpered under his breath as his brother touched his back. He curled against the stimulation, his body screaming that Killua against his bare skin was too much, not enough, just right. Shy to look Killua in the eyes, now, he let his head fall gracefully onto his shoulder, his cheek brushing Killua's neck.*

Sorry. I'm used to wearing the robes and undergarments all the time. Please don't stop.

*As he spoke, Kalluto's lips brushed against Killua's neck like rocks skipping along the surface of a lake. His voice, just short of begging, was felt against Killua's skin more than it was heard.

No matter how much effort and strain was behind its momentum, all rocks must eventually sink.*

[devil_or_angle]

hey, don't push yourself.

*it alarms him how desperate kalluto seems, starved for touch but struggling to swallow it down. is this how he'd acted with gon, too? or is it different, because it's him? he finds himself, maybe selfishly, hoping the latter. curving his hand gently around his waist, he rolls the pad of his thumb back and forth along his skin, tracing the edge of a trembling rib.*

you have plenty of time to figure out what you want.