Title: Field of Dreams.
Pairing: Daemon Spade x Giotto.
Rating: NC-17
Betareader: Prof.
Notes & Warnings: Angst , Melancholy, Death Character, Yaoi, Affair of the bast-Daemon!, Lemon. (Oh, well ... hints Lemon °_°')
Whatever you do will be insignificant but it is very important that you do, because nobody else will do it. It's like when someone comes into your life and a part of you says "you are absolutely ready" while the other half says "flaw yours forever"
Giotto long observed the scene out the window with a calm expression, his eyes clear seemed to reflect more than he could reverberate the same sky that is now staring at a half hour, if not more.
a yawn, which choked with one hand, then sank his face in his folded arms on the desk.
was an unusually quiet morning: no noise, no one came to disturb him, not that I wanted but it was so weird.
Unexpectedly there was a knock at the door of his office and the young boss of the Vongola jumped by granting permission to enter, anyone.
When the door opened, revealing nothing of those who guessed Giotto it could be, not all of its revenue Guards were preparing to do so "spectacular" and Daemon Spade was the only one who like a ghost could infiltrate anywhere, let alone the office of Giotto.
Although he could not see him, his invisible presence was barely noticeable, probably thanks to the powers of the Boss than any other human sense.
"Daemon, is that every time you make an entrance ... normal?" Ruled, looking around for any clue that might indicate where to find each other, Daemon was a surprise but of course first, appearing unexpectedly at his back, sweeping away as he did every time.
Daemon chuckled, bringing a hand to the face of the other, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"This is the most you can expect from an eccentric like me." He said to do with almost theatrical, moving away skeptical glance of the Boss and hold back a laugh with amusement.
"I would say that is no small thing, Daemon Sword." Giotto smiled, turning toward him, as it rests against the back of the leather chair.
A quick visual inspection to Giotto in the intuisse that something was wrong;
reached for that of the portrait that had instinctively and squeezed.
Daemon looked at him surprise, getting lost in your eyes for a few minutes of deep melancholy and Giotto.
in a second glance through that identified a feeling of reassurance, love and protective instincts ....
now Giotto knew Daemon, or at least had come to know well what its side that tends to lead to worry about everyone, as if he never wanted to be fail in its duty, offering his support to anyone. He also knew well that all this but did not do it for others, but to forgive himself, as if any moment could turn your back to his companions, to his boss ... all the people who had been around, an attempt at redemption.
"You promised you'd bring me to the sea."
Daemon recovered from that look, just in time to be warmed by the smiles of children Giotto, an expression full of trust and other feelings that had not yet learned to decipher well.
"We can go even now, if you want." Moor had appeared on the face of a mischievous smile, while doing almost princely held out his hand to Giotto, and the boss caught her without hesitation, that he was leaving the other to guide him to his bedroom. ***
He arched his back when he felt the intrusion by Daemon, clutching her arms around his back, digging her nails in order to claim the pain he felt. The Guardian of the Mist in response to a half-closed eyes, groaned against the neck of the other soft against the skin marked by his own mouth.
Each thrust became drunk the voice of the dark, his shortness of breath, which is rubbed his pelvis against him in response to its movements. Climb along the exposed neck of Giotto, in search of his lips curled slightly into a smile.
"That the sea was one damn excuse, right?" He murmured against her lips, between one breath and another, trying not to notice the sand that clung so to say the least annoying on his sweaty body .
"To be only an illusion is pretty realistic, you have surpassed yourself this time." He chuckled, leaning forward just a foot in contact with the hot water the point in the sea shore, where they had left after a long walk, ending then make love.
"There's nothing for me to be impossible." He said pretending air higher, approaching his jacket on the other, to cover it.
Giotto gladly accepted the offer, leaving the other slide the jacket on his shoulders, then raising his eyes to his face.
"Why do all this for me?" He asked, so suddenly as to leave nothing but the wrong-footed in front of that took on a question of who was easily taken by surprise.
"You're my boss, that's why." Sounds more like a way to close the speech, rather than an honest answer. Giotto was about to reply, but the Daemon team with an eloquent look, laying a hand on your face, avoiding any possibility of supporting eye contact.
Giotto tried to reply, but after a slight movement of his lips he was unable to talk because the more he put his mouth to his.
"Sleep, Boss." A subtle whisper that just broke the tension created. Giotto long struggled with his own eyes that threatened to shut down at any moment, but eventually the "sleep" prevailed and gave himself up to that feeling of cold and dark.
***
That feeling never left him cold until a familiar voice called, the call was to emphasize the continuous knocking at the door, sank more face in the pillow, and to cease when, upon contact with the surface the cool wet feeling of the pillow covered her face. Only then
noticed that the pillow was wet and his eyes still half closed, were wet.
tried to Groping beside him a minimum of physical contact, but the only thing I found was a ring of mist Daemon.
At that time, his first thought was that Daemon had forgotten to get back the ring, but then why? He did not withdraw it if ever.
Without even thinking about it further, rose, slipping quickly crumpled trousers and shirt, without even looking after the order of buttons. Once you wear the shoes catapulted to the door, meeting the face of G. The expression Guardian of the Storm, who became concerned when crossed eyes terrified of Giotto.
"Daemon, Daemon where?!" His voice trembled as her body when G. put both hands on his slender shoulders. The Guardian slightly deviated gaze, unable to look directly into the eyes of his boss, his best friend.
That simple gesture amplifies the terror that gripped firmly in Giotto the ring of the Mist in her hand in hand.
'G. What happened? "
Why not talk? Why not look at him? The Guardian of the Storm was silent for another second, the Boss trembled before him, and too many thoughts crowded into her mind still clouded by the illusion of Daemon, not to mention the pain she felt from her back down.
"He has deserted, betrayed us."
Those words brought a feeling of nausea, followed by loss, anger, sadness, pain. A deadly mixture that fell on him suddenly, like a wave crashing on a rock, then slips away, returning to be scattered in the immensity of the sea.
Daemon was just like a wave, it was given off on him, making him feel fragile but at the same time giving them that moment of fleeting happiness. Yet, despite the words of G. could not believe it was really something, would not believe it.
*** "I do not think you are suitable to be Boss of the Vongola."
Giotto did not change expression, remains a serious and inflexible in the face of Daemon, who sat on the floor, emptied of its power , of his powers, but still full of pride.
The Boss felt the gaze of his captors placed upon his shoulders, G. at his right hand trembling with anger that threatened at any moment to attack the traitor.
Only then noticed a minimum of hesitation in the eyes of Daemon, insecurity that for a moment had made him believe that the end was the Daemon had always known.
"Leave me alone with him." At the request G. sprang forward, displeased "First, do not say nonsense ..." Giotto turned to the Guardian of Storm, which diverted the eye with a line of anger when exact location of his crossed eyes authoritarian.
Without another word all the Guardians with the exception of Giotto and Daemon left the room, fell into total silence.
"I thought our ideas were the same." Giotto broke the silence has arisen, when in fact he had not stopped for even a second eye contact with each other.
Daemon laughed, for the claim that the seriousness with which the other had spoken, was thinking how naive and moralistic.
"naive, dreamy and extremely optimistic. Now I remember why I decided to follow you. "Was his reply, accompanied by a smile. Giotto did not change expression, even for a moment.
Daemon The truth was that the sea was not enough, he aspired to the ocean.
"... So this is goodbye?" Asked Giotto, without another word. Not a reason, not an attempt to debate. That thrilled her reaction left him slightly, though he knew his cool he could keep Giotto in certain situations.
"Yeah. I do not want to have anything to do with you. "
Yet it was not easy, because the fingerprints that are left will not fade into the lives that are never touched, and so would have been between them, the gestures, words had exchanged would never disappear so easily.
The truth, the raw Daemon would never have revealed that out of pride is that he was not ready to quit the sea, because he had to throw in the ocean ... deep fear of drowning.
Another truth, perhaps what was even worse was that basically he was a hopeless liar, because the words that would have meant at that time was unable to say "I love you", "I'll miss you."
Giotto but had always been more courageous than him, before a bye whispered "I forgive you '
***
" Make it yours forever. "
stared angrily the tombstone of the first. He was dead, that man of strong ideals, just as naive and too fragile to fight in a world of his dreams, he did nothing.
What sense had up to that point, when at last the only thing he achieved was the glory, when he had never really want?
This had very often accompanied in its illusions, because in that world, created especially for him ... he would never suffer, but ultimately he was responsible for his suffering.
There was one thing he knew from the start: their "love" was supported by melancholy.
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