(December 5, 2016)
Lyoray Week: Day One – Warmth
It started with a kiss.
A kiss that could be mistaken as snow.
It was soft and light.
Warm, Yet still covered in ice.
Gray opened his eyes, groggy and out of breath. Pain scorch through his body whole, a fire ignited and numb from the cold.
He lay barren in the snow, red blood seeping through his coat sleeve. His lips tingled, eyes trying to adjust to the shadow which loomed just over him. The night air blew, moonlight shining over the mountain sides.
Grays vision blurred, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip to without an agonizing yelp. His body arched, mouth open wide in silent screams of discomfort. His body twitched, the slow burn of muscle flexing pulling at the strings of his tendons. It felt as if his arm could have been thrown in two.
Just as Grays eyes shut, panted breaths leaving his lungs, a palm came to rest on the mans wounds.
“Shh, Gray… It’s okay…”
The voice soothed him, it was a rugged one that he knew well. The other mans fingers coated ice over the open gash, efficiently calming him and stopping the blood to spread anymore.
Gray opened his dark eyes to see the pleasant sight of his comrade, Lyon, whose body bowed over Grays weak form. Lyons silver hair blew in the wind, eyes holding sympathy and etched brows showing worry.
Lyon was a man Gray had known for years as they once trained under the same mentor. Now, they worked side by side on each job, even shared a home. It was not as if they were together, simply just partners. Some would even say they were brothers.
Gray never once thought of it that way though.
They had fought like enemies since their first meeting but at the end of the day, they were the only person the other had left.
Gray allowed sleep to overtake him as Lyon lifted his body off of the ground, threading their way towards the cabin they shared.
The dark haired man knew nothing of their short travel; all he felt was the broad chest he was pressed up against and the warmth that shed from it. He felt each step and would groan as his body would bounce in just the slightest bit.
He mostly dreamt though, dreamt of the man that held him. Lyon Vastia.
Gray never once thought Lyon as a brother. For no man dreamt of their brother. No man ever felt this safe, this warm in their brothers embrace.
They had no relation, so shun those that thought of them as brothers.
Because Gray only dreamt of Lyon as a lover.
In his dreams, Lyon did nothing but protect him. In his dreams, Lyon held him tight near the fire.
And in his dreams, Lyon would lay him to bed and kiss him tenderly.
Lyon smirked, lifting his lips from the others. They were warm to the touch.
Grays lips were still parted slightly from the stolen kiss, his hair tousled to the side and eyes heavily. Lyon chuckled.
“Man, how can he be such a heavy sleeper?”