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His bones wore thin, flesh ghostly pale. His ears burned as the crisp air settled into his skin.
Yok stretched out his fingers, averting his gaze to focus on anything other than what had settled into the cavity of his chest. The air lodged in his throat, every consecutive inhale-exhale-inhale blistering .
Another wave of breeze had him bristling in his spot.
It’s my fault . Yok clamped his jaw shut, blinking rapidly. It’s my fucking fault .
He had wanted to hurl whatever was within his reach and wanted to scream until his lungs tore from within.
Gram's voice on the line was the only thing keeping Yok’s composure from reducing into absolute hysteria.
“You’re freaking out.” Gram snided, “Knock it off .”
Yok found himself shaking his head, despite knowing Gram wouldn't be able to see.
“Yok,” his name sounded feeble against the emphatic beating of his heart drowning everything else out, “ Yok, where are you even?”
Outside the worn out residential building right next to the god forsaken police base.
Every time Yok was here, he would naturally question the rationality of choosing this place as an abode. The ceramic tiles creaked under his weight, browned out by the sun and lack of ventilation. The windows were murked, the only reason drapes weren’t even positioned to conceal what - who - was actually in the supposed ‘abandoned’ high-rise complex.
“For a cop who's not really fond of the idea of people knowing of your society-condemning-art-rendezvous, you really trust those windows to hide your lair ?”
Dan looked up from where he sat, forehead creased by the insinuation. "That's frosted glass." The implication being that he wasn't an absolute bonehead was left unsaid.
"Right, that's why I definitely couldn't see the curvature of your broad shoulders as you clipped your 9 glock to your right side when I was walking up here."
Dan's lips curved upwards, dimples forming in the corners of his mouth. "Broad shoulders, huh."
Yok flushed under his gaze, diverting his attention to the newly placed support on the other side of the room.
Shit .
"Don't be an idiot, get back to the garage." Gram's voice cut through the memory that eventually fizzled into the muddle of the other pressing thoughts that swirled inside his head.
Like:
1) He shouldn't have said those words in the heat of things.
2) He knew better than to spew shit when he felt the anger seep into his bones.
3) He didn't mean to hurt, he had meant anything but.
4) All he ever did was hurt. Those around him. Those he lo-
Gram sighed visibly irritated, "Yok, you fuc-"
Yok swiped his phone into the helm of his pants, attempting to swallow the thorns that settled on his tongue.
He couldn't recall the last time his mouth felt so - dry .
It had been a stupid, stupid war of words. The one where Yok aimed to maim because it was an involuntary habit, because that's what he did when he felt cornered. And he was cornered.
Dan had tended to be terse with his words after Yok had appeared outside of his door, at a god forsaken time, with some type of flesh wound. But that night, with Yok's arm in a sling and damaged blood vessels around his eye, Dan visibly bristled at the sight.
Yok had just hoped that Dan would let it go this one time, spare him the remarks of a scolding.
But the silence, the quietness that stretched between the two was unexpected and beyond suffocating.
"If I'm not welcome here, I'll go." Yok waved his hands behind him, his voice drenched in fatigue.
Dan raked his fingers through his kempt hair, teeth gritting together in frustration. His eyes flashed upwards and settled on Yoks', his brown pupils burning with unparalleled anger .
Yok recoiled under his gaze. It felt uncalled for.
"Don't do that." He snapped.
This got Dan to seethe. " Who are you even doing this for?"
"You know who . For everyone who doesn't have a voice. Who is unable to do what we can." At that point, Yok felt like a broken record, repeating words he had said a multitude of times before. This entire conversation felt like deja vu.
"Because bone fractures and concussions are just occupational hazards, right." It was rhetorical. The sarcasm leached into every word. "I just wrapped your wrist in a splint two weeks ago, gauzed your split lip last week and I- I" Dan huffed as he grabbed at thin air, "-you're not some vigilante Yok-"
"I know ." He cut Dan off, because fuck , he had never implied otherwise.
"-you're human and you're just made of flesh and bones. You're not different from anyone else. You keep breaking that hand of yours and you might just have to be on a brace for the rest of your life. And for what? Why is it that you think you're some martyr-"
"I never said-"
It started to piss him off that Dan kept interrupting him.
"-because guess what! People don't remember those who fucking die . And at this rate, you're one slip away from-”
Yok felt his fury building, his breaths growing shallow as he curled his fists to his sides.
“You’re a hypocrite.” He spat out, his voice an octave lower, on the verge of a stinging ache that threatened to pour out of him. “A fucking coward.” Yok jabbed Dan’s chest mockingly, “You hide behind your stupid art, and your stupid job, too afraid to stand up to the people who you can’t stand and too devoted to some force that wouldn’t even respect you if they knew that you were a insurgent, cock-sucking, inspector!”
Dan stirred, visibly anguished. He wrapped his arms around himself, eyes darting around deliberately in Yok’s direction as he parsed his mouth into a thin line. He opened his mouth, clamped it shut before opening it once more when it seemed as he found his words.
“I’m done.” He said, voice clipped. “Go home , Yok.”
Home .
Done .
The finality of it all echoed in his ears.
Done?
With what ?
With him??
Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this.
That had been 8 nights ago. Yok was surprised he had even made it that far without tearing his tongue out. He had tried, of course. Tried to call. Tried to discreetly go to his workplace, the fucking bureau, distanced and out of sight but glancing on and off over a 2 day period before Sean had to drag him back to the garage.
"Why are you standing there?"
Yok flipped around with such speed, bracing out his left knee as he attempted to regain a semblance of a vertical posture when his right foot almost buckled under.
Dan .
Yok watched as Dan attempted a quick once-over of him, settling back up on his face at last. In what could have possibly been a minute, a second, maybe even shorter time period, Dan took 2 sweeping strides before he bridged the gap between the two.
Dan lifted his hand out of his jacket, settling it underneath Yok's chin and tugging it up gently. "You're freezing ." Dan observed as he glided his hand up to curl around the nook of Yok's ear. The warmth that seeped through had him settling into the touch.
He missed being touched. He missed breathing the woodsy musk scent that enveloped him whenever he was close to Dan.
Yok dropped his head on Dan’s shoulder, pleading silently under his breath, hoping that he could just be there, wrapped in him .
Fuck. He would never get used to this. Didn’t want to. He could spend the rest of his life and never take this, them , for granted.
Dan nudged Yok to look up and when he did, because he doesn’t put up a fight- doesn’t even put up anything, Dan swiped his free thumb across Yok’s cheek.
"I'm sor-"
"I was called into--"
When they both recognized that they were speaking simultaneously, they stopped.
“I’m sorry.” Yok continued because he felt that the words were seared into his tongue and desperately waiting to be let out, “You are one of the strongest, most honest, principled fucking human being I have ever met. You are someone who cares with your entire being and loves so wholly and I was just so tired , so fucking sick of hurting too- “ he instinctively rubbed at his wrist that was just slinged up until 2 nights ago, “just wanted to sleep without having to think about how much my body ached, how I hadn’t eaten for days because my ribs felt like there were knives just fucking piercing in everytime I took a breath.” His voice strained under the load of it all, “I’m sorry .”
Dan hadn’t reacted at first so Yok just stilled as he stared back, worried that any movement might shatter the illusion of truce.
The stare-off lasted just about eight seconds.
Then Dan blinked.
He slid his hand into Yok’s hair, rubbing at Yok’s temple.
“I’m sorry too,” he whispered, “I just hate seeing you like that,” he took a deep exhale, opened his mouth and closed it a few times like he wanted to say something but also wanted to be careful how he said it.
Yok fucking loved that about him. That he overflowed with such empathy , so much so that Dan sometimes struggled to say what he felt because his intention was never to hurt or to provoke.
Yok knew it that night too. He knew that Dan was right. That another busted eye would have just rendered Yok immobile. That he might not just have the resolve to pick himself up, recover and repeat. There would be a day where this, all of it , wouldn’t be tenable.
“I’m tired too,” he started, “It’s been fucking months of this shit. Every time we’re finally getting somewhere..” Yok trailed off, shaking his head with resignation, “I’m just tired .”
Yok moved closer, until he could feel Dan’s body heat through his windbreaker.
“Don’t give up on me,” he choked, “Just-” not yet. Not now. Not ever. “Don’t give up on us .”
Dan lips settled into a deep frown. His nostrils flared slightly as he leaned closer, as if even an inch was too distant, too foreign between them.
“Don’t be done with me,” Yok breathed, “ Please .”
“What are you on about?” Dan pressed, and as if the realization dawned on him, he wrapped his arms tightly around Yok’s waist, kneading his fingers into the back of Yok’s spine with want . With assurance forged and sharpened into the ends of each finger. “That’s not what I meant that night, Yok. I just didn’t want us to say things we would regret. I didn’t want us to be each other’s wick. We needed air and our words were so-”
“-ignitable.” Yok offered.
Dan’s gaze softened, “ Yeah .”
Shit .
Yok grabbed Dan’s jacket in his fists, pressed his mouth so earnestly that Dan let out a startled groan so deep that Yok felt it in his chest. It didn't take much- one , maybe two seconds before Yok felt Dan’s mouth respond, moving down to his throat, back up to his cheeks. He felt Dan’s tongue stroking his tongue, brushed against his lips. His hands roamed on all over Yok’s face, then his hair, roamed his body-
This, none of this ever felt enough. Like, no matter how much of Dan was all over Yok, he needed… more .
He felt a smile against his lips. As if his thoughts had seeped into Dans’.
“What?” Yok’s voice was low. Testing.
Dan shrugged, “Just that I think we could be lying down on my bed-”
“A futon, really.” Yok corrected.
“Doing something else .” He ignored him, “But someone doesn’t really think that those windows are tinted-”
Yok slid his fingers and curled them into Dan’s, yanking them towards the door. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Dan’s pink lips curved into a smirk, the deep dimple in his cheek appearing a second later.
Yeah, he exhaled, he would never get used to this.