like a {moth} to a flame // gasper; dars

[Lei]

jasper kipling
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I'M FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN
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It’s been two weeks.

The blizzard has long moved on, the heaps of snow left in its wake just beginning to melt in the soft heat of pale golden sunlight. The streets are a rainbow of springtime hues during the day, murky rays reflected across snowflakes and the bright green of flowers poking their way through the ice to soak up the warmth they have long been deprived of. I can wander around outside for hours and still be able to feel the tips of my fingers, be able to walk down the road without having to plow through two feet of snow. The birds have begun to return, their songs swelling all around to fill the silence they had left behind all those months ago, and each breath I take feels fresh and clean and full with the promise of warmth soon to come. But it’s been two weeks since I last saw Gavin, sat on his couch and felt the heat of the fire in the hearth and the one blazing beneath his skin before I left and didn’t look back. It’s been two weeks and I’ve never felt so cold.

What’s wrong with me? I don’t understand what it is about those dark curls and bright emerald eyes that make him so hard to forget, unlike every other guy I’ve been with. Those boys didn’t have names, though, didn’t give me warm blankets and innocent, curious glances, didn’t offer me a cup of hot cocoa or sleep so close to me and not let their hands wander. There were a few, some that stuck in my mind even after I’d woken up alone, days I’d spent roaming the District in hopes of seeing them again. I’ve never found them. I learned a long time ago that good things don’t last.

But now there is one boy who I can come back to, one who can’t disappear quite as easily as the others. There, in the house just across the street from where I’m standing, the porch light glowing dimly in the evening haze. I can see a sliver of fire crackling in the hearth through a crack in the curtains, shadows moving across the window – it’s not even night yet, his family is still awake – so I sit down on the curb and draw my knees up to my chest, heartbeat thudding in my chest and hands trembling, and I don't think it's from the cold. I’m scared, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’m out here and he’s in there and I might see him again. What are you supposed to do when you see them again? What do you say? I’m not even sure why I’m here, what I’m doing sitting outside his house as the sun sinks below the horizon and I can no longer see any shadows moving behind the curtains anymore. I just know that I want to feel warm again.

I push myself to my feet as the last window goes dark, leaving just the porch light to spill a soft golden glow across the thin layer of snow coating the lawn. It crunches quietly beneath my feet as I walk, not really thinking about what I’m doing or what I’ll do or what he’ll do when he sees me. Just flitting thoughts of will he remember me? Will he even care? flickering across my mind in quick flashes, not long enough for me to dwell on them and lose my nerve. My heart is pounding behind my ribs but I ignore it, mount the steps and lift my fist to knock. It’s not until then that I realize what it is I’m doing. I’m going to regret it, I know, I should just turn around and go home. It would be the logical thing to do – forget. But I can’t forget. I want to, but I can’t. I don’t know why.

My knuckles rap quietly against the wooden door, a soft tap tap tap that I’m not sure is loud enough for him to hear. For a moment I think that he could be asleep, or someone else could answer the door and I wouldn’t know what to do. No, I’d run. That’s what I would do. I always run.

But the moment passes and I find that I don’t have to run, because the door creaks open and there he is, hair mussed as though he’d been lying down, green eyes bright in the dim glow cast by the porch light. Eyes widening and heart thrumming in my chest, I suck in a breath – what do I say, do I shake his hand, hug him? – ten million different thoughts all running through my mind at once and words sitting on the tip of my tongue, all fighting to spill past my lips, and after a few moments of standing there with eyes the size of dinner plates and mouth hanging open in silence, one word finally manages to fight its way through the mess clouding my mind and huff into the air in a sharp exhale and a cloud of steam.

“Hi.”

[umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars]]

[bg=0A070A][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies Hoping for the best but expecting the worst Are you gonna drop the bomb or not? The thick fabric of Gavin's sweater weighed heavy against his shoulders, and the deep blue color of the fabric looked almost black in the closing day's last bit of light. Both he and Harley sat in the kitchen, Gavin lazily sitting on the counter as Harley cleaned the dishes. (Harley was always better at doing housework or any work, for that matter) As they bickered about which of them had caused Rory's explosion earlier, Gavin tried not to cave in and admit it was his fault- even though it was. He hadn't meant anything by it, just a harmless comment that happened to catch him off guard. Even as he said the words, he had a feeling in his gut he was going to regret them- and he should have listened to it. Really, though, it was true. He'd only said Rory had no life because he didn't. He could sit there and talk about how it was only because he'd given it all up to care for all of the other people living in the house all he wanted, it wasn't true. He was just afraid. Gavin couldn't afford to be afraid, ever. In order to get the life he wanted, he had to be brave. To stay strong. Obviously, he'd managed to convince Harley that his forgetting to clean the house had caused Rory's anger, and so the conversation was eventually drowned into silence by the tree limbs tapping the window's shiny surface. Before too long, Harley announced that he was sleepy, and headed up stairs to sleep. Finally. Gavin loved his brother, hell, he loved all of his siblings, but he couldn't stand lying to them. Not about little things like arguments, but about the things that would easily sever the small string that held their home together. Like that he planned to volunteer for the games as soon as he could. To show Julian that he had what it took to win as well. The memory of him and the short boy standing inches from each other as he clawed at Gavin's reassurance as if they were garbage. So he could see Klaus again. Things had happened so fast between them, and he was just gone. So suddenly, taken. Then again, leaving was a thing he knew all about. He was never going to get over the pain, because it lingered to his very core, but he had to learn how to at least cope with it all. For the longest time, he let it build inside him until he ended up exploding, and causing things around the house to get even worse, but really that caused more damage than help, so he'd taken up sneaking into the woods when he could, and mangling anything his hatchets could find. At least it was never people. At least he had found something that could keep his head clear, without hurting the ones he loved. There were some things that never got out of him, though. There were a few things that seemed to implant themselves in him and refuse to budge. They followed him everywhere, putting themselves on him like a cloak. A few of them even climbed into his head and messed with his dreams. The strangest thing was that he had absolutely no idea why these why these were the things that seemed so important to his subconscious. Or, really, why he seemed so intriguing to him. Jasper shouldn't have even been in his head at all, certainly not be the main object of his dreams or a large amount of his thought process. Something about the doe eyed boy that needed his help had sunk it's teeth into him and refused to let go. His fingers reached into the bowl sitting in his lap and pulled out a carrot covered in ranch, and he nibbled at it for a few seconds before hopping down from the counter, and walking into the living room. At first, he only hummed the sweet lyrics that had become his best work so far- and then a slight mumble, and before long, he was singing. Soft angelic whispers turned into harmonious shouts, reaching into the quiet air and enchanting it. His song was nearly over when he heard a noise from the front of the house. Footsteps. He was already headed to the door before the it screamed with alarm as a fist slammed into it, and he pulled it back rather slowly, which was more than he thought he could do when he saw who was standing on his porch. His hair was dancing in the wind- much like it had the first time Gavin found him, but this time he wasn't in nearly as sickly looking. Still rather pale, but not shaking and coughing and begging for help. Gavin clenched his jaw to keep it from falling ajar, and drew a shaky breath into his lungs. Why was he here this time? The weather outside was far too nice to have done any damage to him, and Gavin's house wasn't exactly on the way to or from anywhere. Actually, it was in the middle of nowhere. He forced a smile on his lips as the boy offered a timid greeting. "Hey Jasper.." He said, mocking his curious but light tone. He spared a quick glance behind him to make sure nobody saw Jasper except for him- and if they did, if they were wondering why in the hell he was here as much as Gavin was. He hadn't really told them about Jasper staying the night, or running out before he'd even woken up. But mainly because nobody asked. Most of them were still asleep anyway, so it didn't really make much sense to tell them. He leaned his head against the wooden frame, and squinted to see the boy in the dark light. He was going to find out why Jasper was here. Now. Let us die young, or let us live forever We don't have the power, but we never say never Sitting in a sand pit, life is a short trip The music's for the sad men.

[Lei]

jasper kipling
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I'M FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN
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I’ve never been particularly strong. I’ve never been weak either. I feel as though I merely exist, mindlessly drifting along the streets at night, running the tips of my fingers across skin and curling into the warmth of a body that isn’t mine. My head is full of nothing and my heart is no more than a pulsing mass of blood and tendons caged behind pale skin and aching bones. The world flashes by in shades of gray and all I hear are the echoes of my own footsteps and each steady, even breath that leaves my lungs. Everything else is in my life is white noise, not my problem, doesn’t affect me – a black and white film playing on mute.

I feel weak now though, knees a little shaky and each breath less than even, no matter how hard I try to measure each trembling intake of frigid air into my lungs. I’ve never bothered much with self-control, but now I inexplicably feel the need for it, to hold myself back and think for once. Don’t do anything reckless, don’t mess up again. But here is a warm, pretty boy with the sun beneath his skin and my fingers itch to touch.

“Hey Jasper.”

My heart gives a stuttering little thump at the flash of recognition on Gavin’s face, the husky sound of my own name, the way his eyes seem to spark for just barely a second before it vanishes just as quickly with the sudden set of his jaw and the hard line of his shoulders as he leans against the door frame. There’s a golden-glowing light just behind the skewed curls of his head, the sound of dying embers crackling in a hearth from somewhere within the house - it all seems so warm and pleasant and inviting. But there’s an accusation in Gavin’s eyes, and my skin tingles with something sharp and biting that isn’t the cold.

I need to leave. “I need to talk to you.”

I wrap my arms around myself, fingers digging into the worn fabric of my coat as I shiver against the stale, frigid air licking at my heels, the back of my neck, seeping into my veins. It’s nothing I’m not used to; countless nights spent curled alongside my brothers, having abandoned the sheets of our own beds in favor of the heat of each other’s skin. I remember the warmth of Gavin’s body when he slipped his arms around me that first night, led me into his home when he’d found me huddled on his porch, pale skin and lips blue with the cold. I wonder if he’ll let me touch him again.

I shouldn’t want to. “Can I…can I come in?”

[umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars]]

[bg=0A070A][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true] Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies Hoping for the best but expecting the worst Are you gonna drop the bomb or not? There was still a knot in his throat when he turned so that the boy could come inside his home for the second time, and he wondered if this time would be different from the last. Gavin was a fool for love, so infatuated with the idea of it all that he latched on to anything that served as a beacon of the affection he craved as much as air. Jasper was his beacon. When the fragile boy walked passed him, he tried to ignore the scents of ginger and smoke that radiated from him, because he was supposed to be angry with him. (Or was he?) Jasper left. Gavin saved him, brought him back from the dead more or less, and offered him a place to say, something to eat. He had done everything he could for the frozen boy, but it ended up not being enough, because Jasper left as soon as he could the next morning and didn't even bother saying goodbye. Still, Gavin felt conflict arise from within him. Sure, it had stung that there was no gratitude from his actions, but was it really his place to be upset with the boy? He barely even knew him, couldn't even recall his last name, in fact, but that didn't stop the ache in his heart or the sick feeling that twisted his stomach into knots. "So, what is it you needed to talk to me about?" He asked as he closed the large wooden door behind him. It shut with a thud, and he crossed his arms over his chest, trying his hardest to act indifferent, but the conflict of being glad to see him, which was surprisingly strange to him, and of being angry with him did a fair job of balancing his emotions already. He flipped a few stray curls of dark hair out of his face and stared at Jasper, his mossy green eyes watched, and he was both eager and anxious to hear what he had to say. "Is it about you running out the other morning?" It was an accident, and he regretted saying the words just as soon as they left his mouth and cut through the otherwise silent air like blades. But it didn't change the fact that he did want the answer. Why had he left in such a hurry? Did something happen? Was there somewhere he had to be, or perhaps someone he had to be with? Or was it was Gavin really thought it was- that he got what he needed from him and then split in order to avoid an awkward thank-you? "Or, well, not really running out," He lied. "But is it about you leaving?" Let us die young, or let us live forever We don't have the power, but we never say never Sitting in a sand pit, life is a short trip The music's for the sad men.

[Lei]

jasper kipling
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I'M FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN
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There’s a fluttering in the pit of my stomach when Gavin moves to allow me into his home for the second time, a twinge of nerves that has my teeth digging into my bottom lip and my fingers tightening around the worn fabric of my sleeves as I shuffle past him with eyes shamefully averted to the scuffed toes of my shoes. I’m half-surprised he’s willing to let me in again after I left him so quickly the last time, the part of me that’s used to cold shoulders and blank, unforgiving stares (my father is always so quick to pretend his gay slut of a son doesn’t exist - whatever helps him sleep at night) expecting the curly-haired boy to slam the door in my face. It would certainly be easier that way. On both of us.

Turn around, turn around, turn around- The door shuts with a click of finality and Gavin smells like something vaguely cinnamon – dry and sweet and warm – and I resist the urge to turn and bury my face into the soft fabric of his t-shirt and just breathe, center myself, focus on something other than the nerves twisting in my belly and the overwhelming urge to fling to door open and bolt back out into wind and snow and cold and pretend this boy never touched my skin. But Gavin is watching me now, arms crossed over his chest in a way that looks almost defensive and moss-colored eyes hardened into emeralds. There’s a suspicious glint in them, a distrustful gleam that makes my insides ache. I hurt him, I can tell, but how can that even be? I’m in too deep and I barely even know who this boy is. I just know that he saved my life and smells like safety.

“Um, yes, I’m-I…” The fire is crackling in the hearth and I stare at the flames licking at the brickwork, Gavin’s eyes burning into the side of my face as I chew nervously at my bottom lip. I’m not used to having to explain myself. I don’t like it. I want to leave but I want to stay even more and I don’t understand why. “I’m… sorry, that I left. I just…” I shuffle my feet, hug myself tighter and will myself to disappear - maybe into a place that is warmer and safer and smells faintly of cinnamon. “…I don’t know how to stay.”

[umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars]]

gavin barker
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DO YOU REALLY WANNA LIVE FOREVER?
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His eyes widened at the boy's words. Was he serious? He didn't know how to stay? That excuse seemed so unfair to Gavin because it had been used against him so many times before. Every single person he ever cared about left, and they all used those same words, or ones that had the same meaning. But he couldn't say that because Jasper was just the boy on his doorstep in a frozen night. He was just the boy Gavin felt sorry for, and who he saved from a cold death after he had gotten lost in that blizzard.

He wasn't supposed to care.

But he did.

He decided to grit his teeth instead of yell at the boy, and chose his words carefully. "It's fine, I guess. Are you doing okay?" He was mostly concerned with if he had saved the boy from the elements in time to save him from sickness, but he realized that he would probably be getting over a cold by now. "I mean, are you sick or anything?" Why should he care? He couldn't even recall Jasper's last name, but his face managed to find itself into his dreams often. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he was certain that something about Jasper was too intriguing to ignore. All that was left to do was find out what. Now that he had the boy again, he wasn't letting him go until he figured it out.

Mossy eyes looked at the boy, so nervous and afraid and constantly looking like he was ready to flee at any given moment and, yes, adorable. It annoyed him that he found Jasper so attractive because he wanted to dislike him. He wanted to slam the door in his face and to never talk to him, but a part of him, a big part, wouldn't let him. Gavin couldn't find it in his heart to hate Jasper. So instead of opening the door back up and asking him to leave, he sat down on the couch and motioned for him to do the same. He deserved that much, and Gavin was willing to give it to him.

[Lei]

jasper kipling
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I'M FLYING TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN
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The words that come out of Gavin’s mouth don’t match the way his eyes flash in the dim light of the doorway, overshadowed by the scowl that flits across his features for barely a second before his expression slips back into neutrality. He’s upset now, even more so than before, and the knowledge that my stupidity is the sole reason for it (and for the cold, empty distance between us, the ache in my bones for the barest brush of skin on skin) twists my insides into knots even tighter than before. I always fuck things up barely before they even begin. With any other person I would be out the door before I had a chance to completely destroy whatever I had already tentatively built up, to send any sort of chance for something more crashing to the ground in pieces. It’s certainly safer that way, easier, less of a chance that my heart would be the thing that shatters.

But this isn’t just any person - this is a boy who makes me want to keep my feet planted where I stand and keep building.

Are you doing okay? I blink, just a little blind-sided by the sudden soft, concerned edge to Gavin’s voice as he brushes past me into the living room, sinking down onto the couch in the same place he’d curled up and drifted to sleep in the last time I was here. He pats the empty spot next to him and I feel myself flush instantly, ears pinking at the tips as I duck my head and bite my lip to keep the small, pleased smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth from stretching into a grin that he’d be sure to see. Even upset with me he’s worried about my safety, and my stomach flutters with something warm and pleasant at the thought.

“I’m fine,” I say lightly, hesitating for only a moment before shuffling over to the couch and plopping down onto the seat beside Gavin, maybe just a little closer than necessary. I want to stretch out, get comfy, tuck my toes under Gavin’s leg and snuggle into his side, but that’s a line I feel I really shouldn’t cross. This time. “Um, thanks for… saving me. And I really am sorry, about leaving. Can we start over?” I lift my eyes from where they’re fixed on my lap, fidgeting a little when I realize just how close we’re sitting, knees just a few centimeters from touching. “Please?”