-emkay / Darkblaze450 

Hello Dark, here is the first one shot that I decided to write on a whim! Full of emotions. Decidely one of my more heartbreaking pieces. 

So! Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the angistness and feels I will be (attempting to) bring to you today!

The setting of the one shot is Aayan is convinced he's found a way to die forever, and is about to jump off of a roof, but then... 

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"Aayan! What do you think you're doing?!"

Aayan was thrown out of his stupor by a sharp call-by a voice that could only belong to one person. He turned his head, and indeed, his sunglasses-wearing inventor partner was standing in the doorway, panting.

"Ah... Misci. Have you come to join me in my final moments, as you always seem to do?" He spread his arms a little. "This is a beautiful view, is it not?"

"Stop fooling around, Aayan." Even though his heavy breaths, Misci's voice was rough with anger-an uncharacteristic emotion, even as his strides towards Aayan were angry as well. "You can't seriously believe that you'll die here. I've watched you die before, and I've watched you come back to life too." It broke my soul. How could you submit to such a thing so easily? Don't you know... how much it hurts me? Every time you succumb to death? 

A crazed sort of laugh broke out from Aayan's lips. "Yes, I'll die. And this time, when I die, I'll stay dead. There is no use for my existence. I am but a puppet, a doll forced to work, because I do not have any other purpose. This world, my friend, this world-" Even as his face was smiling, his entire posture, voice, eyes-they were swimming with wry grief. "It could never have somebody like me. I could never exist here. Maybe, at least in Hell, I'll finally be at rest. Hell has been waiting for me since my birth, after all."

There was silence. 

"... You're an idiot." The definitive words were quiet, but rang clear as a bell in the air. Misci lifted his head to look at Aayan, and even though Aayan couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, they were glinting with a whirlwind of feelings. 

"You are an idiot. An idiot!" The second part was shouted. "How could you think that? You're so caught up in your past, you refuse to move on! Open your eyes! You're not alone, and you are not shut out! There are people waiting for you!" Behind Misci's sunglasses, tears somehow found their way to his sightless eyes, beading up. "There are people, waiting for you, every day! They look forwards to seeing you, they want to talk to you, they want to make sure you're okay, they want to be with you, they-" His voice caught in his throat. "They love you."

Aayan was speechless for a moment, staring at the other man, defiant and riled up, before closing his eyes. "... Love? Dear, dear heavens." His eyes were like chips of ice in the light when he opened them. "Don't force yourself, Misci. You haven't gone through what I have. One may love me, but it will bring them nothing but misfortune and unhappiness. It is four letters, but they hate me. Please." And though he said that, something deep in his chest cried out. They hated him, but he could not wish they did not, as he watched it blossom around him. "Do not force yourself. It-"

"I'm not forcing anything right now!" 

The sudden outburst stunned Aayan into silence. Misci's lips were pressed tightly together, his brows furrowed in a show of rare anger-or was it something else? "I love you, you idiot. So stop this-whatever this is you're doing-" He waved his hands around wildly- "-get down there, and-" The tiny crack in his voice was small, but it was there, and something cracked in Aayan's heart too. "-Just let me hold you."

Something within Aayan cracked and burst open at Misci's raw outburst. It was like Misci's melted away, and Aayan's will ebbed away also, as-unwittingly, without conscious thought-he slipped off from the railing, and Misci moved to meet him. Two hands landed on his shoulders, light and yet so heavy at the same time. "I love you," And Misci's voice softened to a near-whisper, laced with too many emotions to name at once. "All of you. Every single damn part of you, broken or not, bad, good-I shouldn't, but I do." 

Finally, the beginnings of a less shattered smile graced Misci's face as he stroked Aayan's hair. "Broken, battered, bruised, torn apart... Every single part, I have made a crevice in my heart for them. Waiting for the day that I could piece them back together, one by one."

Aayan's face was so heartbreaking, so full of hope that warred with grief that it seemed like one touch would splinter it all apart. "I'm broken," He whispered hoarsely. "Too broken. You can't fix me, and one day, I-"

Misci stopped him with a gentle, wry smile. "I'm an inventor, remember? I can make the impossible possible. You may be broken, Aayan Al-Bishi, but so am I." With one hand, he reached up, and carefully removed his sunglasses and tucked them onto his shirt, causing Aayan's breath to catch. He had rarely ever seen his partner's eyes, and yet, they were as horrifyingly gruesome and beautiful as he remembered. 

"You're making a bad decision," Aayan murmured as Misci leaned a little closer, brushing a stray lock of hair back with gentleness that made his heart ache. 

All he got in response was a soft laugh that brushed across his face ever so slightly. "I've done nothing if not made bad decisions. And now I'm done standing back and doing nothing." When he touched Aayan's cheek, Aayan realized a stray tear had somehow fallen down his cheek.

"We're both broken, Aayan," Misci said. His voice was delicate, and yet, the low whisper was comforting in a way Aayan did not understand-but he felt that he could start to understand, eventually. "So let's... make bad decisions together." He smiled-just a little, just a bit. It conveyed more than words could ever. "Choose me, Aayan."

We don't need to be fixed. We can continue, broken as we are, into the future. Just hold me tight, and don't let go.

A small sob escaped Aayan's lips, closing his eyes as Misci gently cradled his cheek with one hand, mere centimeters apart, leaning into it. It was calloused, roughened by years of working in the forge. He remembered, so many years ago, when he had prayed to the gods for help. Did it ever come? Would it ever come? 

He did not know. All he knew was that Msciwoj Nasiegniew had somehow, inexplicably, become that help, that beacon. 

And that, even though the path ahead was uncertain-shaky, wavering-when their lips touched, brushed against one another's, in a kiss featherlight as the softly blowing breeze, somehow, neither of them had any reason to even think about that uncertain future. 

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So uh yeah! I'm actually really proud of this, one of my more emotional pieces, so I hope you enjoyed somewhat? 

Thank you for reading!

-A.A.C.