hastegas: (Hi ho silver hair! Away!)
hastegas ([personal profile] hastegas) wrote in [community profile] jigglephysics2015-05-18 09:07 pm

(no subject)

Life had long since become cyclical for Tidus.

He wakes up. He eats. He mulls around the house. He goes for a long swim. He comes back in, showers, heads to practice. He comes home. He swims again or practices on his own on the deck of his home by the water. He tucks back into bed again and sleeps.

The only upheavals in his painfully predictable life alone in his home come from games, the occasional night out with his team or an adoring fan and Auron's visits. He looks forward to them, no matter the context, because they tear up the heavy, grey blanket that has long since settled over him and smothered him slowly under its weight. He wants change. He wants a life without sunrises and sunsets he has to count down. Tidus wants tomorrows that come too soon and yesterdays that leave too late. He wants adventure, excitement, something to break this mold he has been shoved into as he cycles through his life in a house of ghosts and silence.

Practice never brings fatigue and coming home in the dimming light of dusk brings little hope of sleep when he hasn't worn out his reserves of energy just yet. It's not that he wants to sleep, that's just boring, but it would at least be a change of pace to get truly worn out and knocked to the ground by his own muscle aches. Nothing in this common rotation brings challenge for him anymore. It's likely why he lives for the thrill of games and the adrenaline that runs through him right before he submerges himself.

He pushes the door open and greets the quiet, emptiness of his house with a loud 'I'm home!' that seems to echo off of nothing and greet him in return. He crinkles his nose and tosses his bag of wet clothes from his practice across the room towards his couch.

"I can't think of a single thing I want to do tonight... No one even wanted to go out this time. This sucks."
entrust: (pic#768218)

[personal profile] entrust 2015-06-12 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
"That long?"

There's a catch in his throat, and he misses Tidus's lips over his own, but very quickly his mouth is elsewhere and he doesn't have to look to know. His voice is rough, senses arrested by the physical onslaught coupled with the unexpected admission. Expecting coyness this far in is a fool's errand, but Tidus has no reason to lie, which can only mean that what he's saying is the truth. A year. Or two.

And he never once noticed. Couldn't have begun to consider.

His assumptions seem foolish, suddenly.

Auron raises a hand to his mouth like he's trying to keep himself from saying — or asking — anything else. His free hand finds its way to Tidus's shoulder when his hips shift up, not involuntarily. He has enough self-control to keep from feeling guilty about asking for this. Not that it seems he has any reason to, after all.