[Asakiku Ficbit] Plato’s “The Symposium”

Happy 2013! I hope this is a better year for everyone. ^^

Originally posted on Tumblr.


Sometimes, Kiku looks at Arthur’s back and thinks, Ah, if only I could tell him. He knows that Arthur knows, but he also knows that words are limited, and the words of the heart are not.

Sometimes, Arthur looks at Kiku from the side (perhaps when he’s watching television, or reading, or simply lying beside him sleeping, breathing, existing), and he thinks, Ah, if only he knew. He knows that Kiku most probably knows more than he lets on, but he also knows himself, that words tend to get stuck in his throat and that what comes out from his mouth is very different from what his heart means to say.

But sometimes, when they reach for the same book, when they are walking side by side down that familiar street, when they happen to pass each other by without knowing and their hands touch, for that brief moment, for that small eternity, their eyes meet and they know, they just know.

You are the one I lost.


From Plato’s “The Symposium”:

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.”

“…and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a moment…”
Thinking please wait

[Ficbit] Random KikuAsa

Maybe he's imagining things. Maybe it really isn't Kiku putting his arms around his neck and going down on him, every little movement another tingling thrill through the very core of his being, breath hot and heavy against his mouth, his weight a sweet burden on his waist and hips and thighs and-

Arthur wasn't even going to think about what was going on between his legs right now. He would, however, admit to being sorely tested when Kiku shifted his weight and moved just so-

And maybe he was just hallucinating that Kiku's teeth were gently scrapping the side of his neck, and there really weren't any deceptively long and sly fingers snaking down his chest, moving across his stomach and doing with feathery light touches what he would never admit in a lifetime to enjoying. There was no red tongue flashing, silvery hot and wet on his neck and shoulders, no white teeth tasting his earlobes, no surprisingly strong hands grasping him by the wrists and the back of his neck and mouth and legs parting for him and pushing and moaning and groaning as Arthur fell further and further-

When Arthur finally woke from what felt like an endless spiral into ecstasy, he found Kiku curled up next to him, eyes sweetly closed, the rest of him modestly wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Arthur stared blankly at the sleeping man, his thoughts running wild as he wrestled with which was reality.

He was about to reach an epiphany of some sort when the blankets suddenly opened up and he was pulled, not unwillingly, back into the warm darkness which promised to give him an answer to his current dilemma.

[K] Mini-sequel

A little sequel to the ending of the above video.


When the cat next opened his eyes, it was to a soft, muted, gray darkness. He stood up slowly, legs unsteady, testing cautiously for pain. He still remembered the unexpected impact of the vehicle, of being flung so far when he had been so near his goal, the final sprint and finally collapsing, reality bleeding away from him. He took his first steps forward on the same paws that had struggled to stand earlier, bleeding and exhausted and yet still stumbling ever forward, fueled only by sheer determination and a promise. He looked around, recognising the place as somewhere all cats visited nine times and most other beings only once. A presence behind him, and his reflexes honed from experience tensed to run.

"It's you."

The person knelt down. Familiar hands cupped and stroked his chin and head and if cats could cry, oh, how the tears would have flowed.

"If you're here, then that means-" He paused. "Thank you. I'm sorry things turned out this way in the end. It must have hurt."

The cat shook his head, leaning his cheek into the man's hand as pure joy swelled up in his being at the unexpected reunion. The person smiled sadly and tried to pick the cat up. Just like as at their first meeting, the animal slipped out of his grasp. But this time, instead of running, he stopped a few steps ahead and turned his head slightly, his ears twitching as if in beckoning. The man laughed.

"You're the same as ever." Hitching up his painter's backpack, he started down the path of darkness behind the cat.

"I don't know what happens now, but I'm not afraid," The man smiled down at the cat next to him. "After all, I have Holy Night by my side."

If cats could smile, and indeed they can, this one did, a thin, long one as he tossed his head with pride and trotted off into the greying darkness, the painter by his side, a ragged holy knight guiding his holy night.