Screenshot with the following text: (Begin italics) Nothing unusual, nothing strange Close to nothing at all The same old scenario, the same old rain And there's no explosions here (end italics) Two men sit side by side on a beaten up couch, sharing a drink together in comfortable silence. An outside observer might look at them and say that the two of them seem to be close. The way their touches linger as they pass the bottle between them, how they quietly chuckle at each other's words. They way they lean towards each other like they are flowers, bending towards their own personal suns, embodied within their companion's solid form. It's rowdy all around them, with people laughing and drinking and celebrating good fortunes to come. Yet, they seem to have eyes and ears for nothing and noone but each other. It's raining, though it is not that of the water-based kind. It's raining multicoloured starlight, fireworks bursting open in the skies above them like new universes blooming to life. And if anyone sees them curving their bodies together a little more, as the night goes own and makes way for the early hours of the morning, then noone will say a word about it. As if everyone has silently agreed with each other that the two of them deserve a fragment of that ephemeral concept of love and peace, especially them and especially tonight.
Don't be fooled, this (song)fic is going to be emotionally devastating...if I can get my executives to function for long enough to finish it, that is.
(A cookie and all my love to you if you recognise the lyrics/know the song!)
#trigun #vashwood #molten_writes
