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It's early.

That's the only thing John can focus on as he trough his sleepy state feels cold hands running over his bare back. The darkness is still embracing him, it's comforting and his eyes feel heavy. He can more taste than smell the pillow of his bed, he's breathing the darkness in and trying to burrow further into the soft mattress. The cold fingers on his back move further up, playing with his shoulder blades as he changes his position, they're tracing over his neck, tickling slightly and moving closer to the place where the short, dark hair on the back of his head starts. John sighs and the boy with cool fingers hums behind him.

"Edward, it's like the middle of the night or something", he mumbles sleepily. He doesn't really want him to stop the fingers playing with every inch of skin they can reach, and Edward knows it. John smiles to himself as Edward leans to kiss his cheek from behind and lets his fingers run over John's cheekbone lovingly before slowly removing them. John is about to protest, but then Edward leans in again and his breath is hot against John's ear.
"It's nine in the morning already", and John hears the smile in Edward's voice. John smiles silently back at him as Edward backs off a bit to rest his head on John's shoulder, placing a little kiss on it. His fingers slowly return to John's face, and John draws a shuddering breath as Edward slowly traces his index finger along John's bottom lip. He shivers and his eyes close on their own, he loves it and he knows that Edward knows it. He can feel Edward's breathing as his brother's fingers make their way to his chin, down his neck... He tastes Edward's finger on his lips as he slowly wets them.

They rarely have this much time for one another. John can't remember when they last time had enough of time to wake each other up like this, he can't remember when was the last time they had time to lie in their bed for the whole morning or the whole day or how long they ever wanted. Normally it's all about fans, it's about job and angry Liam and tight schedule... But today it's about them and them only. Edward's eyelashes are fluttering against John's chin and he feels like his heart could burst any second. It's perfect, really. Edward's hands are running around his upper body and he's shivering because they are still so cold. He feels unbelievable urge to grab his brother's hands and warm them in between his own hands until they are warm, but he knows that he can't. The moment is perfect and he doesn't want to destroy it.

Edward shifts slightly so that his head is resting on John's chest, his blonde, tousled and soft hair tickling John. His hands are travelling down John's chest, stopping at his lower abdomen and massaging the skin there with his thumbs. He's biting at his lower lip, his brows furrowed and John feels amused. Edward's fingers once more run to rest on John's right hip bone and John shudders as Edward touches the sensitive spot just below his hipbone.

Edward backs off again, drawing his fingers away from John's body and he whines because really, what the hell Edward? They have the whole day for themselves, he can't stop now. And as he opens his mouth to say what he thinks Edward slams his lips against his.
It's a bit desperate, Edward's hands clutching on his neck and hair, it hurts a bit but mostly feels good, his lips are soft and smooth and John holds back a sob because it's a bit too much. He's been awake barely half an hour and Edward is licking at his lips, and as he slowly parts his lips he finally wakes up fully.

It's not amazing, but it's Edward and he's perfect, so it's perfect. He's so innocent and inexperienced, his touch shy and soft, and John feels like he's about to melt into the bed. Edward's eyes are closed, his cheeks red and his breathing fast trough his nose, their teeth hit each other at times but it's not awkward. It's not awkward because you can't be awkward with your other half and as their tongues meet John knows that they're not getting up in a while.
They break away eventually for air, and John wraps his arms around his brother's lithe body, drawing him closer.

"We could stay like the whole day", he murmurs. Edward's lips curl slowly into a soft smile and he kisses John's cheek quickly.
"I'd like that", he says.

Edward laughs softly as John kisses his nose quickly and John thinks that he may be in love. Actually, he's sure he is.

It's hot and he's panting, it's a bit too much and he's a bit afraid that others might hear them... The noises his brother is making are not particularly quiet and his back hits the thin wall of the toilet cubicle every now and then quite loudly. His brother's lips make their way to his neck and it's his time to moan out loud, his lips burning hot against his neck and his brother's tongue massaging the skin between his lips.

They are in the school's toilet, their trousers dragged to their ankles and their clothed erections rubbing against each other. The floor is dirty and his head bangs against the wall as the rhythm speeds up, his knees nearly failing him. It's quick and it's what they both need, it's a bit too much, even. He's whimpering, his brother's breathing is hot against his skin, his lips leaving his neck.

He's a bit desperate, his cock is aching and his head is spinning. They have never done this like this, normally it's slow and sweet and gentle... They don't have enough time to go all the way, let alone space, so they are grinding against each other, too far gone to stop even for removing their boxers. But as his brother sinks his teeth into his neck, close to his pulse point, and his knees finally fail on him and he would fall if he wasn't between his brother and the wall, he licks his lips and realizes that he wouldn't mind at all doing this again some day.

They are close, their rhythm is faltering and his head drops to rest on his brother's shoulder, his brother's murmuring words like okay and close and please and all he needs for coming is the feeling of his brother tensing up against him, letting out a low, long moan and he's falling over the edge.

They collapse onto the floor into a mess of limbs and wet stickiness and they smile at each other, giggling quietly.

The younger twin rests his head on his twins shoulder and as his brother wraps his arms around his back he leans in to nibble at his ear, and at that exact moment neither of them would give a fuck even if someone did catch them like that.

You're pinned against a wall, a door, the carpet of your room... It doesn't really matter.
You're always against something, though. He says that you're brothers and that brothers don't share beds so you're against the door of your room. Your parents are away and you're home alone, you're against and he's leaning heavily against you, nipping at your skin, careful to not leave any marks.

It's hot and you're panting, incoherent sentences leaving your lips and his hand slides inside the waistband of your boxers. You're shuddering, your fingers are grasping his arm almost painfully, nails digging into his skin.
His hand is cold against your skin, you're whining, not sure if it's too much or not enough. He licks his lips slowly, and you let out a shuddering gasp as he jerks you a bit rougher, a bit quicker. You can't help but let yourself fall against him, whimpering against his collarbone.

You're close and he knows it, and just as you need his touch the most, it's gone.

You whine and he tells you to be quiet, it's unfair because you just need it so much. He doesn't give it to you, though. He never does. It's okay though. Maybe it's even better that way, maybe it doesn't mean anything that way. It doesn't make you so bad and dirty. Maybe.

His other hand is still there, caressing your hair in a comforting way and you can't help but lean against the touch. You sigh softly but he doesn't smile.

When he comes out the bathroom half an hour later you pretend to be asleep, faintly hoping that he'd sleep with you this night. He doesn't. It's okay, though. You're brothers.

Maybe brothers are not supposed to share a bed anyway.

Edward can't fly.

John has always been his wings, the power that lifted him off the ground and made him defy gravity... none of the winged hi-tops or jackets could make him fly so high as John made him fly. And now he's gone and Edward doesn't dare to try because the ground is hard and he's already struggling.

People come and go, he has seen that. People leave, people die, people disappear... it's not new to him. There was something about John that made him thought that he'd been forever, though. Maybe it was the way he promised he'd always be there for him, maybe it was the way his eyes had flashed when the doctor first time pronounced the word "cancer", maybe it was the way he had fought.... But as he stands at the window running his fingers along raindrops he suddenly realizes that John was just as eternal as drops on the window glass, as fragile as the roses in their backyard.
Edward has cuts from the thorns of those roses on his hands.

It's been a week. It's been a week and he can't fly. The feathers on his wings fall off, he's trying to fly but he can't. He just can't.
The clock ticks on and Edward is crying, maybe he's too weak to bear life but if John was there he'd say it was okay and cuddle him until it really was okay.

Liam said it would get better in time, but how could it ever get? Edward can't catch the stars no matter how hard he tries, the sun only burns a hole trough him and he's invisible, he blends in with the darkness. The sun burned Edward's wings and he's on fire.

It's been a week and three days. Ten days, Edward counts, ten days without John and I can't manage, the world is beautiful when he looks at it from the rooftop of his hotel. It's been too long. He's standing on the roof in John's old wing jacket, his arms spread wide and eyes closed, the wind is playing with his hair and a sudden thought flashes trough his mind... maybe, just maybe, it's meant to be this way, maybe he's meant to at least try. It's been so long and he's afraid. John will always catch him, though, he knows he will. Hasn't he always caught him when he was about to fall?

A flash of silver, white feathers from his wings and the world is silent.

Edward can't fly.

It's like he's sleeping.

His eyes are closed, he's looking peaceful and his fringe is covering his left eye. He's not sleeping but he is, his heart is still beating faintly but he can't wake up, he doesn't have enough of a strength to open his eyes. His black eyelashes create dark shadows to his cheekbones and Edward fights against an urge to poke him in an attempt to wake him up. He's not going to wake up though. It's hard to believe that he's almost gone when he's right in front of his eyes, but Edward has to admit, his brother is even paler than he used to be, his lips have a blue shade in them and the cold feeling in his own heart is growing larger and larger as John slips away from him more and more, second by second.

He can already feel his eyes start to fill with tears but he refuses to cry, not yet, he has an eternity to cry but now, when he's still in the same room with his brother, when they're not entirely separated, his brother is still not fully gone, he wants to make the most of it. He's grasping his brother's hand, listening to the slowing sound of the heart monitor and trying to catch the fading seconds as the fly on by, John's chest is rising and falling too slowly and he's mumbling nonsense into his brother's ear.

"Don't you dare to leave me", he whispers and John's eyelids twitch, it's like he's saying that he's not going to leave him and Edward kinda wants to believe him. Because when they were six he promised that he'd never leave him alone and he has never broken his promises and Edward doesn't get why he would break them now.

John is getting colder in his grip and Edward is going back in time in his thoughts, remembering the things he promised they'd do but never did, remembers the fights they fought and he really regrets it all, he really does, and if he could he'd go back in time and make it all better, do the things he should have done and kiss all the wounds in his twin's body better. Maybe there was wounds that couldn't be healed, maybe one of them flared and broke his twin apart, left him defenseless for a second too long, maybe a second was enough for the cancer. Edward wonders sometimes how he didn't get sick too, they are twins after all, he wonders why God ever gave him something as perfect as John if He knew he'd take him back one day. He wonders if it's a punishment, if it's a sneer or if it's something that's supposed to tell him that they were only humans, maybe they were just too happy.

And yes, what ever it was, it worked - he's been crying for a year, every day, he's been struggling and he's been afraid of this day.

John's lips move and it's like he's trying to say something but it's not possible, he's far too gone for that, he's been for weeks and Edward doesn't let a tear to fall to his cheek. Something in his pained expression reminds Edward of the time when they were kids and John had seen nightmares and Edward wasn't able to wake him up... And for a while he lives the exact moment, it's midnight and it's cold in their room, John is crying in his sleep and no matter what Edward does he doesn't wake up. It's raining and the moon is so close to their bedroom window that Edward can see it reflecting in John's eyes - when did they open? - and he's screaming. He's awake and he's safe and he's screaming, and Edward is so relieved that he starts to cry too and they lie there holding each other in their arms for a long while. John doesn't tell him about his nightmare and Edward doesn't ask.

It's almost like the first time they found out about John's condition and when John told Edward to go out of the room and Edward listened to the conversation between John and the doctor trough the door and cried silently. John had tried to block him out of the pain, out of the desperate fight between life and death, Edward had sat on his bed, watching as his twin lost weight, how he got weaker and weaker and in his mind Edward started to draw wings to his brother's back. And when the doctor had shaken his head slowly, gave them forms to fill and blank apologizes to live with, John had frozen and that night he had let Edward to hold him as he cried for the first time in three months.

Sometimes Edward had almost managed to fool himself to believe that there was nothing wrong with John, nothing to worry about, but when John had started coughing up blood and became unable to speak and the doctors told them that the cancer had spread to his lungs and throat he had been unable to block it out. And as the seconds ticked by with more and more of the life they used to have they found their personal paradise from the double bed in their room. Edward had told both John and himself that they would make it work, they would spend their last days happy and even though John shook his head furiously at the word their, they had tried, they really had, but it's hard to pretend to be fine when the person you love the most in the world is slowly dying. And when John one morning didn't wake up despite being still alive, Edward had known that their half-life would never work.

The heart monitor beeps loudly and he's dragged back to the moment, back to the cold room with his dying brother and it's all too much for him and he kind of wants to just run out of the room and hide and never be found again, but he knows he wouldn't be able to leave his brother now. John's eyelids twitch and Edward swears that he can feel John grasping his hand tightly like saying "I'm scared, don't leave me" before the heart monitor starts to beep and it's a horrible noise, mixed up with a broken, choked up cry and it takes Edward a while to realize that he's the one making the sound. It's horrifying and he's crying, John is not moving and he's so lost. His heart feels cold, heavy and broken in his chest and he kind of wants to climb into his brother's bed and fade away.

It's all too cold and he leans forward to kiss his brother's cold lips one last time, it's just a brotherly peck and he has to swallow back a sob because it hurts.

"Don't be scared, I'm on my way already", he whispers against his brother's lips and he almost smiles because he can feel the pills in the pocket of his jeans.

Rating: S
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Kirjaston käytävät olivat pölyisiä, minulla oli lyijykynä sotkuisen nutturan keskellä ja syli täynnä kirjoja, ikkunoista tulvi valoa ja minä katselin pölyn leijailua. Sinulla oli kylmää kahvia termospullossa ja hymyä silmissä, seinät olivat kylmät selkää vasten ja sinä nauroit.

Me istuimme parvekkeella, katselimme meteoriittisadetta ja joimme kylmää kahvia, minä laskin valoja sinun silmistäsi ja piirsin sormellani kuvioita selkääsi. Minulla oli punainen kahvikuppi ja sinun mukisi oli kissakuvioinen, ja kahvi keltaisessa termospullossa oli aina vähän viilentynyttä. Meteoriittien repiessä tähtiä alas sinä käännyit puoleeni ja kuiskasit "kylmää kahvia ja meteoriitteja, sinun pitää kirjoittaa siitä joskus kirja", ja minä nauroin. Rakennuksien paikalla pelkkää tomua, metoriittien sirpaleita maassa, minä pidin sinua kädestä kiinni pujotellessani niiden ohitse ja vaalea mekko sotkeutui jalkoihin.

Sillä sinun suudelmasi maistuivat vapaudelta vaikka maailmalopussa kuolleet kuivakukat putosivatkin parvekkeelta, verta rantapuistikon kaduilla ja perhosensiipiä kuistilla. Minun jalkani kietoutuivat sinun omiesi lomaan ja sinä kuiskasit korvaani "c'est amour, rakas", ja minä nauroin, sillä silmäripset kutittivat poskella. Sinä tuoksuit kahvilta ja tähtipölyltä, mutta maailman raunioissa ei kaikunut, vaikka huusinkin joskus unissani.

Minun päiväkirjani jäi kesken. Sinä pyyhit pois pölyt minun hiuksistani mutta päiväkirjani hautautui raunioiden alle.

Ja maailman kaatuessa päällemme sinä keräsit punaiset posliininsirpaleet maasta, joit kupillisen kylmentynyttä kahvia, minä hymyilin ja sinun silmissäsi tuhat valoa syttyivät.

fandom: jedward
rating: s
disclaimer: i own nothingggg and the following text is entirely fictional
warnings: -

--

As soon as the doors closed after them, they felt like they could finally breathe again.
Their suits felt uncomfortable and the water dripping down their skin made Edward feel sad. JohnÂ’s smile was forced, that little bit too wide to be believable. John said something but Edward wasnÂ’t listening. It didnÂ’t matter.

“Nineteenth”, said Edward. “That’s not too bad”, he said, his voice trembling and sounding foreign in his own ears.
“Edward..” John started.
“It’s okay”, Edward said quickly. “I just, we’ve never won anything, I just thought that maybe today… But it’s okay, it really is. I’m just sorry because I let you down, I mean it must have been something I did to make them not vote us, I’m sorry”.

He didnÂ’t realize he was crying before he felt JohnÂ’s finger on his cheek, wiping away the tears streaming down his face.

“It’s okay”, John said softly, his finger still caressing the skin of his twin’s cheek. “It’s not your fault, nothing is your fault. It’s alright”.
And in seconds Edward had jumped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his twin, shaking in his embrace.

John didnÂ’t care about the fact that Edward was crying against his chest, his tears soaking his skin too. He wrapped his arms around his crying twin, running his fingers trough his hair in a soothing way.
“It doesn’t matter that we didn’t win, Edward. As long as I have you, it won’t matter. I don’t need to win something like Eurovision, because we are the winners anyway. We don’t need to win to be winners. We are more than that, aren’t we?”

EdwardÂ’s eyes still glistened in tears, but the smile on his face was genuine.

Rating: K7
Disclaimer: en omista mitään enkä saa rahaa
Warnings: kuolema?
Summary: Pilvet peittävät kuun ja Luna vetää verhot ikkunan eteen.

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Luna on kuun lapsi, tahtoo nielaista auringon, ei aina hallitse itseään vaan katoaa, sillä Luna on häilyvä. Luna on aina rajalla ja saattaa pudota koska vain.
Äiti ei koskaan kertonut mitä tehdä jos todellisuuden rajat räjähtävät, Luna istuu kaapissa ja laskee foliotähtiä katosta.

Prinsessakruunuja ja miekka, Luna ei koskaan oppinut sanomaan "ei" sillä äiti opetti aina olemaan kohtelias kaikille.
Äidin hautajaisissa ihmiset kysyivät pärjääkö hän eikä Luna vastannut. Isä puristi Lunan kättä ja Luna puristi takaisin.

Luna tahtoo muuttaa Marsiin, ei siksi että narksut ovat kotoisin sieltä vaan koska äiti sanoi että sieltä näkee maailman laidat. Luna tahtoo opetella ne ulkoa, osata ne niin hyvin että pystyisi piirtämään ne taikasauvansa kärjellä pergamenttipaperille.

Ulkona katulamput syttyvät ja Luna kuvittelee niiden tilalle kuun, äiti sanoi että kuollessa ihmiset menevät kuuhun ja katselevat rakkaitaan sieltä, äiti ei uskonut taivaaseen eikä helvettiin ja Luna nukkuu valot päällä sinisessä sängyssä.
Lunan maailmassa sininen on surullinen väri, Luna piirtää itkeviä ihmisiä joiden kyyneleet ovat sinisiä. Luna ei osaa enää itkeä.

Luna vilkuttaa joka ilta kuulle ja isän ilme on surullinen Lunan sanoessa ikävoivänsä äitiä, äiti vilkuttaa takaisin kuussa mutta ehkä Luna ei vain huomaa. Pilvet peittävät kuun ja Luna vetää verhot ikkunan eteen.

Joku toi äidin haudalle kukkia.