streetwalkers | ROLESWAP AU MASTER POST

[That's okay! Tokiomi's just going to be down here for awhile. Until eventually he just passes out entirely, though he remains flushed and looking feverish when he does.]

[It's easy to ignore when he has control and can stubbornly will the feelings away. Gilgamesh goes about his business, stepping over Tokiomi when he goes out to get dinner, stepping over Tokiomi when he comes back and crawls into bed.

When sleep sets in and there's no wall of ego between Gilgamesh and the things that have taken up residence in his head, it's more difficult to resist.

For the first time the dream is new. Just like before he has small hands and a small voice, but the malice and the desperation have all but vanished. In their place is warmth and a tingling at the tips of his fingers that's confusing but not unpleasant. Still, the feeling is strong enough to make him go weak right down to his knees, and so it's convenient that his small body is sunk into the cushions of a wide armchair.

This is love, his mind tells him, though he can't say he knows the feeling. This is something to keep you safe and sane. This is something perfect and you need it. More than anything, this feeling is the most important.

So many strong emotions, so many resolute words in his mind, impractical and overwrought and all directed with an uncommon intensity towards a boy not-Gil's age.

Well.

When he awakes with a start and a shout, more terrified than the ones he's given as he woke from his bloody nightmares.]

[When Gil wakes up, Tokiomi is still on the floor. But he's awake now, sort of. Mostly. Recently.

The long rest has given his mind time to mesh the two different Tokiomis, filing the memories and feelings into a neat order and place. It's still strange, but in the warm and foggy moments just after waking he has an odd feeling that it's only now that he's completely whole.

Gil's shout draws his attention, and he lifts his gaze sleepily from the floor to watch him.]

...Hm?

[Oh. You're still there.

Grumpily, Gil rolls over and pulls a blanket over his head, peering at Tokiomi from underneath. It's a long, grumpy stare, and what makes it terrible is the more he looks, the more a very simple fact settles in Gilgamesh's mind:

Here's the person you loved.
Here's the person they took from you.

Real-Gil scoffs at the notion, because Tokiomi hardly seems like the kind of person Gilgamesh would be intersted in. He's too soft. Too proper.

But something is urging him to accept those facts and make them a part of his reality and he can't make it shut up, out of sorts as he is.]

...you're here.

[Tired. Confused. Nothing feels like it makes sense, so he rubs his face to hide the blush creeping to his ears (since when did he blush?)]

That's all. I was... surprised.

[At first, in the haze of this weird readjustment of identity, Tokiomi forgets that Gilgamesh has not yet shown any sign of remembering any of the things that he himself does. He's still groggy and disoriented, and because of that, the other boy is treated to a soft, unguarded smile full of all that soft and tingly emotion that Gil just identified for himself as "love".

It's not a look someone could give a stranger. Not remotely.]

This is where I'm supposed to be, isn't it?

[But it's hardly out of his mouth before reality sets in and he sits up, shaking his head to clear it. No, he tells himself. No matter what face his roommate his making, he's not allowed to act like that. Even if this is the person he's been missing -- the person he loves, he can't impose that on someone who'd just think he's crazy. Even if the thought makes his heart ache so intensely that he feels tears welling up already. He doesn't want to be "alone" right within reach of Gil. The last time that happened, he'd been desperately screaming...]

[It is, he's right. He's here. They're both here, and Gil feels his chest clench like this is some sort of miracle rather than a random roommate situation.

And oh... that smile. It's been too long since he's seen it for real, and he'd throw the rest of the world away if he could just kiss him or keep that smile for his own.

He's still fighting it of course, because he doesn't understand, but his reply is soft nevertheless]

...is it? I'd almost forgotten.

[His hands are halfway to pre-emptively wiping his eyes when he registers what Gil said. He freezes like that, completely still as it processes through the shock.

When he looks up again he's both stunned and hopeful, and he's forgotten to stop himself from crying.]

...You remember?

I recall you passed out on the floor. Ha! If you think you belong there, then so be it!

[The reply is a harsh attempt to pull himself back together. To have his ego shaken so thoroughly by one person doesn't sit well with Gilgamesh, after all. He wants to push out what feels like some other person trying to consume his feelings.

He won't have it. He doesn't want it.

Even when the sight of Tokiomi's tears stirs a startlingly clear memory of of a desperate fight and cries for help, Gilgamesh is still frightened to allow the memory any space in his mind.]

[That's definitely not what he meant. Right? The tone of voice is too different. The look on Gil's face is too different.

So it's scary. Remembering a whole nother life is painful and terrifying. But while Tokiomi is polite, and while he isn't above layering that politeness with authority figures when it serves his needs, Gil is not an authority figure. He's just Gil, and now Tokiomi distinctly remembers him being a brat. So even though those words are a punch, and even though they make his cheeks burn with both hurt and humiliation, he's determined not to let it go.

After he wipes his eyes he uses one hand on the desk to get to his feet, then turns and stares Gil down with his arms folded in a gracefully stern, no-nonsense pose that must be startlingly familiar. The cool, business-like tone of voice is no different than the first time they met. (The real first time.)]

It might have been a lifetime ago now, but I can still tell everyone what an awkward virgin you were.

[He snaps instantly. No time to hold it back.]

You wouldn't, or you'd look insane!

[It's not a lie of course, because the memories are coming back. The desire to touch and the uncertain nervousness that came when he didn't know how to do just that. He was all thumbs, all scared tight lipped kisses, and he knows better now but it wasn't enough the first time around. Nothing was ever enough, they were too naive and there wasn't enough time, but now, now--

Now what?]

I wouldn't tell them it was in 1995, obviously. But if you'd like me to be polite, and if you'd like to make up for-- for letting me die alone after all, you can man up and come over here and kiss me.

[Because he knows Gil knows, and it only hurts them both to fake it.]

[Is that a challenge?

It sounds like a challenge.

Spurred on by his annoyance and the mask it casts over his emotional hangups, Gil slides out of bed and goes to answer Tokiomi. Just because he doesn't like backing down, and doesn't want to say no to someone who clearly wants him badly.

It isn't an emotional thing.

Not at all.]

Aren't you bold? If you want me so badly, I could hardly refuse!

[It's just that he has something to prove in how he kneels down by Tokiomi, tilting his chin up to kiss him, rough and commanding and desperate.]

[That's not the kind of kiss he's used to, and he can't say he likes it much. But it's not that it's a bad kiss, so much as that he hates feeling the resistance in it. It's like his Gil is just inches away, but he can't quite touch him.

Nevertheless, Tokiomi kisses back, just as desperate and for an entirely different reason.]

[Without thinking, he almost sighs against Tokiomi.

Finally.

...Finally?

The moment he thinks that, he pulls back and his aloof smirk is pressed firmly back into place.]

An awkward virgin, huh?

...You were, then.

[Definitely not now, though. And Tokiomi's never been kissed like that -- this Tokiomi, the new one, has never been kissed at all. He's bright red after that, but the sadness in his expression is a counter to it.]

Why are you pretending?

[...well shit.]

Pretending?

[He stands back up, turning on his heel and sitting back on his bed, legs crossed]

I kissed you for your sake! Don't mistake my charity as an attempt to lead you on.

Gilgamesh.

[It can't be that he was mistaken, can it? Did he really just hope so hard he thought he saw something that wasn't there? That thought is like a knife in his guts, and he's not stopping it from showing just yet.]

Are you disappointed, Tokiomi? Did you hope I'd go further with it?

...

[If it's not going to happen, there's nothing he can do about it. If Gil doesn't remember, he can't make him. And if he does remember and chooses to throw that life away, then it's as clear a sign as Tokiomi could possibly get: he wasn't good enough, after all. What they had wasn't enough, and now that it isn't necessary for his goals, Gil doesn't want it.

...But maybe that's a good thing. Throwing his emotions around isn't elegant at all. It's much better to keep them restrained and do things with grace and efficiency. Of course, if it doesn't have any benefits but the relationship itself, why should Gil want it?

The moment Tokiomi decides to give up is obvious. All the longing and heartbreak on his face disappears at once, slammed ruthlessly behind a wall. It doesn't do anyone any good. He should throw it away too, and focus on what will get him the farthest. He doesn't answer the question. He just sets to putting his things away, as if nothing happened between them at all.]

Well ignoring me won't win you any favors.

[He tugs his blankets up and rolls over.]

If you're listening, don't wake me up.

[Then he presses his face into a pillow, choking back whatever he feels ready to vomit out.

"Don't be sad," he wants to say while stroking Tokiomi's hair. "I just can't be him again." Gil is content the way he is. The feelings are exhilarating now, maybe, but he can only guess that without all those memories and without his taste in... whatever, he'd grow bored. Convinced that he's far too different to play at being his younger (older?) self.]

Edited 2013-08-30 09:01 (UTC)

[That's fine. If he decides it's a matter of discipline, Tokiomi is perfectly capable of locking his emotion down and pretending it doesn't exist. He can do a lot in the name of appearance and politeness, and that's what he's decided to do.

So he ignores Gil. And he'll continue to ignore him from then on out, only interacting with him when it's truly required. At those times he's politely deferential, and brushes his roommate away as soon as possible.

It lasts a whole two weeks before anything but coldness gets through the facade. It's 6 am, and he's awake early to study before class. He's in the kitchen getting breakfast, pulling bread out of the pantry when a huge centipede comes skittering out of the cabinet and drops right onto him.

He's always been uncomfortable with bugs. With with the recent memories added to his mind, his reaction can only be described as sheer terror. Gilgamesh will be woken by the frightened scream that escapes him before he can stop himself.]

[The lack of contact suits him - Gil, after all, can take his one night stands to their own rooms. He can stay out late and wake up late and let himself be distracted from their strange and frustrating circumstances. But now in his dreams, he can't move - for real this time. He sees his limbs, his feet, every part of him, and they refuse to move no matter how hard he wills them. (Insulting. Disgusting. How dare they disobey) Even when he can hear screaming, a voice begging for him to help, to do something, he can't answer and his impotence shakes him to his very core.

He can't fail. Not here. Not now.

He can't lose his chance to at least say good-bye.

Harder. He just has to push himself harder, will himself more, and maybe finally his muscles will snap back to attention and--

He wakes with a start to the sound of screaming again. But this time he can move and so he does without a second thought, stumbling into the kitchen with immense urgency]

Tokiomi?!

Edited 2013-08-31 07:04 (UTC)

[By the time Gil get there, Tokiomi has already gotten the bug off of him. Now it's on the floor, and he's going through the motions that any good bug-phobic person does when dealing with an enemy. This mainly consists of cowering against the wall while trying to find something with which he can kill the offender without getting close enough to touch it.

He jumps when he hears his name, looks up -- and that wall comes down immediately. His face goes blank, and he looks away without answering. Only it's not so good when the centipede charges him, and he drops a bottle of syrup in his scramble to get away.]

[There's no immediate danger, but he still feels the adrenaline in his veins, and thus wastes no time in grabbing an old newspaper, rolling it up, and using it to brutally smash the centipede. No, he's not touching the smear it leaves on the floor because that's gross, but, well-- good enough, right?

...Tokiomi can take care of the syrup himself]

Is that it?

It...

[He's more shaken than he should be. He's never liked bugs much, but this is the first time he's had such an encounter since the addition of his old memories. Before, he would have made a disapproving face and taken the thing outside. Now, he's pale and shaking even despite his attempts to look like he doesn't care.]

...Yes. I apologize.

[More than cold, this time he just looks withdrawn. The fear hasn't quieted down yet, and Gil's face isn't helping. He can't help thinking about it, over and over. Why does it have to be like this? Why does he have to see him every day, and never breach the canyon Gil is putting between them? What did he do? Isn't it Gil who left him to face his biggest fear? Isn't he the one who has a right to be mad? It's not fair. It's especially not fair right now, when it's fresh in his mind.

Fighting alone. Not being strong enough. Every attack that got past his defenses. Every little cut that could have been worse, deliberately chosen to inflict fear and pain instead of death. The way it felt to call out and not be answered, when his mana was running out and he couldn't keep it up anymore. The terror of being pressed into a corner, praying his shield wouldn't fail and the despair when it did. The chill of the floor with Kariya kneeling over him and the heat of his hands pinning him down while the worms crawled into his wounds and through his veins, slowly, patiently tearing him apart. Hearing how it was all his fault. How stupid he'd been. How it was no wonder that no one saved him, when he was a selfish fool himself.

He can't take his eyes off the smear on the floor. He can't stop feeling the sensation of hundreds of bodies, some slimy and some full of skittering legs, crawling all over his skin and inside of him and the way they'd come up his throat along with his blood when he was coughing too hard to scream anymore.

In the end, it was Gilgamesh who left Tokiomi to die that way, alone and scared and desperate. So why is Tokiomi the one who has to suffer just feet away from him like this?]

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