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Language:
English
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Published:
2020-09-28
Words:
1,024
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
21
Kudos:
336
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your lips, my lips, apocalypse

Summary:

the world was ending but all they could see was each other.

Notes:

inspired by @anta_baka00 ‘s sakuatsu “your lips, my lips, apocalypse” art!

originally a threadfic!

Work Text:

“O-Omi...”

“Shhh... shhh, c’mere.” The taller shushes. He gently takes the blonde’s trembling hand in his and putting the other on his shoulder.

Kiyoomi’s arms snake around Atsumu’s waist, their chests pressed closely.

“Omi—O-Omi...” Atsumu repeats in painful whispers, tears streaming down his face. His voice shaking in fear and devastation.

Kiyoomi stared at his weeping lover, realizing how fire and water can mix together. The burning buildings engulfed in the dance of orange flames and red blaze reflected upon Atsumu’s tear-stained cheeks.

“I know, I know...” Kiyoomi whispered, pulling Atsumu closer by tugging on their connected hands gently as he kissed Atsumu’s eyes.

“I’m scared— I’m so fucking scared—“

“Hey, ‘Tsumu. Baby, look at me.”

When their eyes met, gold and onyx with a little bit of red mixed together.

Heat was starting to pack up in their penthouse, heat so strong that it dried up Atsumu’s continuous tears in minutes, seconds even.

As Atsumu sobbed, his head started to turn to the window again to look out at the destruction of the city. Before he could, Kiyoomi gripped his jaw gently to pull Atsumu’s face back parallel to his. Helping him avoid the chaos that’s about to be the cause of more tears.

“Dance with me.” Kiyoomi said.

“H-huh? Omi—“

“Dance with me like the world isn’t crumbling before us.” The raven haired male’s grip tightened around the other’s waist before he started to sway their bodies.

To be honest, Kiyoomi was terrified. The world was ending before them, meteors falling out of the sky one by one. The deafening screams and wails outside their complex, the loud car horns as people try to race out of the city as if escaping will have a difference.

The boy who was also crumbling before him.

That was what terrified him most about the situation.

It was the boy he knew was so strong, full of pride and full of energy, the reason of his bravery, the reason he lives, crumbling before him.

Let the world crumble, but not his world. Not this world in front of him. Not the world with bleached hair and calloused fingertips.

Not him.

So they danced to ABBA’s “Andante, Andante”, their go-to slow dance music.

Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze.

Atsumu’s hot breath kissed Kiyoomi’s cheeks as their forehead’s pressed together. The former seemed to calm down, his shoulders slowly losing its tension as they swayed to the song. Still, tears streamed down their face.

Take your time, make it slow.

Time seemed to slow down, except them and the song. The world around them blurred and the only thing clear at the moment is each other.

Make your fingers soft and light.

Atsumu’s grip loosened as he started to sob softly again, his hands too weak to hold on. Kiyoomi kept him steady by tightening his hold on Atsumu’s waist, letting the boy snake his arms around the other’s neck for stability.

“Shh... I’m here.” Kiyoomi whispered, kissing Atsumu’s ear.

“We’re going to die.”

Omi didn’t reply. He took a deep breath and instead replied with—

“I’m your music,” He sang together with the voices on their speaker. The background vocals engulfing the agonizing noise outside their window.

Atsumu gasped softly when Kiyoomi sang. He never sang, even when Atsumu begged. There were nights of countless of anniversaries that he asked Kiyoomi persistently to sing for him and the latter persistently refused.

And now in their very last moments, he fulfilled that wish.

“I’m your song,” Kiyoomi’s voice was angelic. It was deep and sultry, he harmonized with the voices so damn well.

So damn well.

“Play me time and time again,” Kiyoomi sang. “and make me strong.”

Atsumu smiled through his tears, loud sobs escaping as he pulled away from the tight embrace to look at his husband in the eyes.

“W-Why— Why would you-s-sing when we’re about t-to die—?” He asked through a fit of sobs, tears continuously streaming down his face as they dropped to the floor from his chin. A smile taped to his face.

‘I want to make you happy for the last time.’ Omi thought while he sang. “Make me sing, make me sound.....”

For a moment, Atsumu wasn’t crying about the world ending anymore, no.

He was weeping, hearing Kiyoomi’s singing voice for the first time after 10 years of knowing each other.

His tears of fear became joy, their worlds turning brighter like the sunshine upon them instead of the bright fire outside their window.

“Andante, Andante, tread lightly on my ground...” This time, Atsumu sang together with Kiyoomi. Their voice mixing and harmonizing, angels to welcome them soon jealous of their chemistry for no choir can compare.

Orange glowed against Atsumu’s tan, sunset hues all over his body.

“Andante, Andante, please don’t let me down.” They sang and faded out the last line of the chorus.

Omi stared into Atsumu’s eyes that looked more like raw honey in the destruction rather than gold. They savored the moment, only music and small sways of their body hugged them. “Andante’s” and “I love you’s” are the only things that want to escape their lips at the moment.

Tears continued to stream down the blonde’s face but a smile is now tugging at his lips.

Another meteor fell out of the heavens, causing an explosion in a building just a few kilometers away from them. Atsumu couldn’t cares less anymore and neither did Omi.

Kiyoomi smiled, pressing their foreheads once again before he pecked the other’s lips softly.

“God, I love you, Sakusa Atsumu.”

“I love you too. So fucking much, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Atsumu cupped Omi’s cheeks and pulled him into a deep kiss. Poetry in their scenery so evident.

Kiss me like it’s our last.

And it was their last.

The world was crumbling but their worlds weren’t. Their worlds were there before their eyes. Smiling and dancing to ABBA. Worlds with curly raven hair and bleached blonde hair. Worlds with onyx and golden eyes. Worlds with calloused fingertips and rough palms.

The world was crumbling.

But as long as their worlds weren’t, nothing else mattered.