roesslyng: (A Redtail's Dream - Twins)
[personal profile] roesslyng
Title: Snapshots
Fandom: A Redtail's Dream
Characters/Pairing: Joona/Hannu
Rating: Not rated (Nothing explicit; just can't be bothered)
Length: 600 (6x100 words)
Summary: Snapshots in a relationship. Slivers of time.
Other: Written for Elleth for [community profile] multifandomdrabble. :D
Half of this is from Hannu's POV; half is from Joona's. This is chaptered on Ao3, but I think it works better viewed in one piece.



Snapshots

Sunlight through the cracks in the shed walls, spilling gold, dust dancing in the beams.

Hannu swears and tries again. The ropes at his wrists hold him there, secure enough that he can't get loose.

Before he left, Joona wrapped his fingers in his hair. Forced Hannu to tilt his head up. Kissed him before he could do more than gasp. Said he'd be back soon.

Where the hell are you now? Hannu thinks.

He could yell. He almost wants to. But –

He listens.

From somewhere outside, he can hear low humming, and familiar long strides coming to join him.




Scent of morning coffee stirs him, wakes him up a little.

The hand cupping his face wakes him more, and the kiss that follows.

Pressed against the kitchen counter, too tired to complain, too tired to push him away even if he wanted to.

Letting Joona stay the night was a mistake.

Hannu sighs against Joona's mouth. Parts his lips against the dampness of his tongue, tasting toothpaste.

It's too early for this, he isn't awake enough for this, it's too –

But he sighs against him anyway, rests against Joona's tall frame. Gives in, just for now.

Just this once.




There are times when he wants Joona there.

Summer mornings when the pale sun brightens the sky, rising at an hour too early to be alive.

When it's cold as fuck out and the night is scattered with stars and the world is too silent.

Evenings when the rain falls hard and soaks him to the skin, leaves him aching for Joona's warm hands.

Hannu knows this. Doesn't say anything about it. It wouldn't do any good to let him know.

He can imagine the laugh, the smile Joona would give him if he knew.

He'd like it too much.




There's more than one way to make Hannu soften up.

Joona's kept track over the years. Watched. Listened. That's the kind of person Hannu is; you have to pay attention.

Long walks in the evening, when the sky is still bright.

Breakfast by the lake, thermos full of coffee and sandwiches wrapped in waxed paper, feet dangling in cool water.

Reaching up to sweep his hair out of his face, tucking strands behind his ears.

Letting his words roll off, too. That's the most important part.

Ignore all the ice in his voice.

If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.




Hannu is cold.

His hands, at least. And the rest, too, but that doesn't matter.

Joona takes them in his own. Blows on them, rubs them to warm them up a bit, and ignores the glare Hannu gives him, that sharp look Joona knows so well.

By now, Joona has him all figured out. It's about privacy and secrecy. More than that, it's about his own embarrassment.

Joona knows that if he looked at him, he'd see flush spreading on his cheeks. Not from the cold. From something else.

He laughs, kisses his hands, and ignores how he pulls back.




That's how it is.

When Hannu finally gives in, and gives up, there it is:

The hands gripping Joona's hair ease, stroking instead of pulling.

No complaining. No steel and ice in his voice. He's got a foul mouth on him, but all he has left are sighs.

It always seems to happen outside, in grassy forest clearings where the sun spills through the trees, falling on them as they doze there together.

Joona listens, and holds him close, and presses his face into the crook of his neck.

It wouldn't hurt to hold on to this moment, would it?
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