#Is Lava Lamp really actually living out a smaller version

[completeoveranalysis]

[4]

HUGE FAN of tiny Sakura trying to make that connection between her and Lava Lamp. Shyly asking if they can hold hands after the ceremony is done, which is ADORABLE and, because this is Tsubasa, means that this absolutely will not happen. Their outstretched hands will ONCE AGAIN fail to meet in the middle, just like always - but different this time, since this is the FIRST. 

And extra hello to Lava Lamp’s giant distorted shadow looming underneath him! The disproportionately huge shadow his presence is casting! The dark fate spreading out before him just by being here! The alternate versions of himself that will spread into the future!

I love that this Sakura, in her love for water and the water’s love for her, is characterised by bubbles floating around her instead of feathers. And that Lava Lamp hopes that they can be together. And that this tiny child’s hope MAY OR MAY NOT be the match that sets so many other things in motion.

It's just two children wanting to be friends! And SO MUCH goes wrong!

[lallemanting]

i was just rereading “whatever makes you feel the sun, chase that” because i love it SO MUCH and i would be forever indebted to you if you wrote a tiny thing about lucas and eliott traveling after they get on the train together

my darling anon! thank you so much for this sweet message and request 💛💛 I honestly had no intention of returning to this version of Lucas and Eliott but then I got this request for a “tiny” thing about their trip and wrote nearly 7k words so…whoops? I really hope you enjoy!!

part 2 of whatever makes you feel the sun (chase that) // also on ao3 here!

Lucas leans back against the rough material of the train seat and just looks. He allows himself that, as Eliott sleeps lightly next to him, because he hasn’t really before.

Every look has been plagued by fear, deep and unyielding, the kind that arrests your heart and makes each beat painful. The kind that was sent away, if only briefly, by a pair of stormy eyes and a sweet voice. Eliott. 

It feels a bit like breaking out of the water after holding your breath for too long. Lungs burning, heart racing, a panic sitting there, beneath the skin, that fades as the air hits your face and the water drips away and there’s oxygen ready to gasped in, ready to fill your lungs again. 

It’s almost drowning, but being saved at the last second. It’s learning to breathe again. 

Eliott’s eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open, just a little, as the sunlight fights its way past the built-in shades the people in the seats in front of them have pulled down. The light casts over him making lines on his t-shirt and his hair is messy, mussed from being pressed against the headrest of a train seat. But he’s beautiful all the same. 

He’s beautiful, really, in the kind of way that makes people look twice (Lucas certainly did). The kind of beauty that’s intimidating at first, that left Lucas reeling when he reached for him in that club, when he said he remembered Lucas of all people, just from a glance on the beach. 

But it was his smile, the disarming way he laughed, the light that seemed to shine even when in complete darkness that sent Lucas chasing after him. 

Eliott shifts in his sleep, his head falling onto Lucas’ shoulder and Lucas smiles, wide, as his heart hiccups in his chest. He turns his face to press a soft kiss to Eliott’s forehead and lets him sleep on.

Lucas’ phone buzzes a few times in his pocket and he pulls it out to see several texts in his group chat.

Le gang

Yann 

hey lulu, you okay? haven’t heard from you in a few hours 

assuming you found your man 

or I was right about the serial killer thing 

but just know if you don’t respond soon I’m going to have to call the police and tell them to start looking for a handsomeman named eliott

Lucas

why do you assume he’s handsome

Arthur 

He speaks!

Yann 

I have faith in your taste bro 

so I assume that means you found him?

Lucas

I found him

Arthur 

And you’re with him now?

Lucas

on our way to amsterdam

Basile 

👎👎👎

Yann 

whoa bas 

why are you thumbs-downing our boy?

Arthur 

more like 🥳🥂🍆💦❤️🌈

Lucas

arthur wtf lol

Basile 

im not thumbs-downing our boy 

i just still think it’s unfair that i was the one who was supposed to get with someone this trip 

and lucas got someone instead

Lucas

sounds like jealousy to me

Yann 

Bas shut up

Arthur 

Yeah Bas shut up 

Also Lucas do you really need me to spell out those emojis for you?

Lucas

no I got it lol

Yann 

point is we’re happy for you 

even bas

Lucas

even bas?

Basile 

Fine yeah 

even bas 

🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈🌈

Arthur 

that’s the spirit 

🌈🌈🌈

Yann 

🌈🌈🌈

Lucas

you guys are dumb 

but thank you 

really

Yann 

you don’t need to thank us lu 

we love you

Arthur 

We do!

Basile 

we do

Yann 

now get back to your man

Lucas

love you guys too

It’s after lunch now, and Lucas can feel his stomach protesting as the only thing he’s had to eat so far that day is a croissant Eliott had bought him at the train station while they waited for the next train. They’re headed to Amsterdam still, since Eliott’s got a friend, who he’d told Lucas was also apparently named Lucas, that’s letting them crash in his and his boyfriend’s apartment while they’re on their own trip to Spain. They’d transferred an hour or so ago from a smaller, suburban train to this larger one that will take them all the way to Amsterdam.

Lucas thinks they’re probably nearing Brussels, one of the major stops before Amsterdam, and he finds himself wondering if Eliott is the kind of person who wakes when moving vehicles come to stop, even if just for a moment. There’s so much still that Lucas has to learn about him. And yet, this right now, is the closest he’s ever felt to trust, to being his whole self. Lucas’ stomach growls again, but Eliott shifts once more, his head nestling even closer in the crook of Lucas’ neck, and Lucas knows he won’t be going anywhere until Eliott wakes.

It’s a few hours, and stops later (it turns out Eliott is very much not the person who wakes up every time the train reaches a new station), when they finally reach Amsterdam. It’s late afternoon, nearing evening, when they step out of the station and into the sun, and Lucas feels his lungs expand as he breathes, really breathes, in the new air. His chest feels light, still unaccustomed to not feeling as though he’s been dragging around a weight in the form of a secret. A lightness in freedom. 

He flinches slightly, as Eliott takes his hand, but it’s muscle memory, desire that’s been told for so long to quiet down and hide away that it feels uncomfortable at first to let it be seen. 

Eliott must notice because he asks him, quietly, “Is this okay?” waiting for Lucas’ nod to interlace their fingers.

But Lucas does nod, and he whispers yes, Eliott and his chest fills with something new, or maybe it’s just his heart expanding. He squeezes Eliott’s hand back.

They wander for a while, hand in hand, along the canals and to a fries shop Eliott’s friend had told him was the best in the city. So they get some, Eliott going overboard on the sauces, and eat them sitting next to the water, legs crossed and knees touching.

“Can I ask what changed?” Eliott asks him after wiping a bit of sauce off his cheek and kissing him so slow and deep that Lucas had almost dropped the fries he’d been holding.

“You mean why I decided to come?”

Eliott nods, biting into another fry.

Lucas pauses, turning his gaze out away from Eliott and across the water, watching as a boat passes them, the people inside shrieking with laughter. 

“There were two reasons,” he says softly, turning back to catch Eliott’s eye. “One, I was tired of being so scared. I didn’t want to have to live with fear and I guess I realized I didn’t have to.”

Eliott smiles, soft and kind. A look, Lucas is quickly realizing, that’s a natural one on his face.

“And the second reason?” Eliott asks.

Lucas grins and leans in, his lips so close to Eliott’s they’re almost brushing, the promise of his touch making Lucas’ head spin.

“You.”

Eliott kisses him.

They wander for a few more hours, grabbing dinner at a restaurant with cloth napkins where they’d actually sat down, ordered wine. It feels a little like something out of a movie, something Lucas had always wanted deep in his heart but never admitted to himself.

“Our first real date,” Eliott says when Lucas raises an eyebrow at the price. “I want to spoil you.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, but can’t hide the blush that coats his face. “You haven’t even asked me out!” he protests.

Eliott only looks at him at him.

“I did you one better,” Eliott says, reaching across the table and brushing his fingers across the back of Lucas’ hand.

“Oh, did you?”

Eliott nods. 

“I asked you to run away with me and you said yes.”

Lucas flushes, catching Eliott’s fingers in his hand and bringing his hand up to kiss the back of it gently. “I did,” he whispers back. There’s really nothing else to say.

They spend longer than they should at the restaurant, even splitting a dessert – a gooey chocolate lava cake that has Lucas nearly melting into the floor and Eliott, after swiping the bill out from under Lucas’ hand, tells him they should make their way to his friend’s apartment.

It’s set back a bit in the city, down a side row behind some shops. The evening is settling into night, the last dregs of summer sunlight disappearing as the sun fully melts beyond the horizon, but the world is buzzing still, the night fresh and young and full of hope.

Eliott punches in a code at the door on the street and leads Lucas up a narrow set of stairs to the fourth floor. The hallway is dark and damp smelling, the stairs an old, twisted set of terrors, meaning that Lucas is breathing heavy by the time they reach the top. 

Eliott finds the key tucked between a piece of loose molding and a flap of peeling wallpaper just where Eliott’s friend said it would be and puts it in the lock, the key twisting almost deafeningly, and the door swinging open.

The apartment is a studio, a kitchenette just to the left of the door and two large windows facing out onto the street, a small table and chairs placed between them. A mattress is pressed up against the wall across from the door on the floor and a small couch and tv are just to the right of the entrance. In the back corner Lucas sees a door which he can only assume leads to the bathroom. It’s dark, the light from outside nearly gone, and Eliott flicks the switch next to the door, bathing the room in a harsh yellow light from a single bulb placed in the middle of the ceiling.

“God, I hate overhead lighting,” Eliott says, moving to throw down his backpack and switch on the lamps next to the couch and the bed before returning to the door and switching the bulb back off. “There, that’s better.”

Lucas smiles, dropping his own bag into one of the seats at the table and turning to look out the window at the people walking through the city below them, each of them living lives so separate from their own.

“I’m just gonna, uh, use the bathroom,” Lucas hears from behind him and then the sound of a door clicking shut as Eliott goes in.

Lucas sighs and leans his forehead against the cool glass, but something picks at his brain that won’t let him relax. Not yet.

He fishes out his phone from his pocket and types out a message, one he’s typed out time and time again but hasn’t sent yet. But now, he feels like he can.

Lucas to Maman

I wanted to let you know that I won’t be coming home for a few weeks. I’ve decided to extend my trip. I met someone who I like very much and I want to be able to spend more time with them. With him. 

He’s a boy Maman. His name is Eliott and I think you’d like him very much.

I’m sorry if this disappoints you. I love you and I’ll try to call you tomorrow. X

He hits send before he can think about it too much and puts his phone down on the table, plugging it in. There’s other things he wants to focus on tonight.

Across the room, Eliott emerges from the bathroom, looking at Lucas leaning against the table and smiling sweetly, his hands digging into his pockets, his shoulders hunching in what Lucas is learning is a nervous gesture. 

Nervous. Around him of all people. Lucas will never get used to it.

“So what do you want to do tonight?” Eliott asks him, pulling his phone out of his pocket and swiping it open. “My friend recommended a few bars we could check out or I think there’s this one we passed on our way here…”

Lucas pushes himself off the table and walks across the room towards Eliott stopping just in front of him, close enough to reach out and touch.

“Or,” Lucas says, taking the phone out of Eliott’s hand and tossing it onto the couch, “we could stay in.”

Lucas reaches out and grabs the hem of Eliott’s shirt loosely, his fingertips brushing the skin at Eliott’s waist. Eliott inhales sharply and stumbles back, cursing as his hip makes contact with the couch.

“Yeah, god, okay, we can definitely stay in,” he says.

He reaches out to grasp Lucas’ face, his touch light against his cheekbones and Lucas leans into it, closing his eyes as Eliott closes the distance, their lips brushing together for the hundredth time that week, but something feeling new all the same.

It’s overwhelming in the best way, the feeling of Eliott so close, the way he’s holding onto Lucas like he’s a precious thing, not fragile but important. Something to be handled with care not out of fear of breaking, but affection. 

Lucas leans into him and grasps onto Eliott’s hips, pulling him closer to press them together, Eliott angling his head to kiss him deeper, his tongue swiping at the seam of Lucas’ lips, turning the kiss hot and messy.

Lucas gasps, Eliott taking advantage of it to walk him backwards towards the mattress. Lucas’ hands run along the skin of Eliott’s stomach and around towards his back, pulling at his shirt as they move.

“Off,” Lucas whispers against Eliott’s mouth and Eliott is quick to comply, pulling the shirt up and over his head, giving Lucas only a second to take him in with new messier hair before he’s on him again.

“Your turn,” Eliott says, pulling back to kiss Lucas’ jaw, behind his ear and down his neck as Lucas shivers, tugging on his shirt. Lucas quickly pulls it over his head.

And really, Lucas thinks, it shouldn’t be this good, it’s not supposed to be this good, with someone he only met a short time ago. Lucas has never imagined it could feel like this, especially not so soon.

There was a nervousness, a hesitation in name only, when they gotten together the first time, only because Lucas was new at it, still is new at it. But Eliott had smoothed it away with an understanding smile and a readiness to only go as far as Lucas was willing, as far as Lucas would take him.

But somehow, Eliott’s never really felt like a stranger, and his body has never really felt completely new. Lucas knows they’ve only just met but there’s always seemed to be this place they existed together, from the moment they locked eyes across the beach, that only they could get to. A frequency only they can tune into, hidden away from everything else that beckons Lucas to break the so-called rules he didn’t even realize he’d been imposing on himself. 

With Eliott, it’s just easy. And the parts that aren’t so easy Eliott is so calm and kind and understanding that it makes it easier to work through, to discuss and then deliver. It’s the kind of respect and desire, the kind of want with a preference that makes it clear Eliott, somehow, miraculously, feels just as lucky as Lucas that they found each other. A feeling that translates into comfort and vulnerability.

(And maybe, Lucas thinks as he recalls his words to the boys when he told them, it feels just a little bit like love . But it can’t be. 

Can love happen so fast? )

They collapse on the mattress and fumble at the buttons on their pants, Eliott straddling Lucas to pull them off with his boxers as Lucas lies among the pillows.

“Shit,” Eliott inhales, his eyes roaming Lucas’ body, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Lucas can feel himself blush, still not used to the kind of compliments Eliott doles out so freely. He’s not used to beautiful either, something he’d never thought of himself as, something he’d never thought someone would think of him. And yet here, hovering over him is the most beautiful man Lucas has ever seen and he’s looking at Lucas with the kind of fierce adoration that makes Lucas forget everything else and Lucas finds he believes him. Somehow, Eliott’s words cut through the rest.

Eliott makes Lucas okay with being brave is the thing. It’s not that Lucas wasn’t capable of it before, or that he’s doing everything now for Eliott, it’s that suddenly, somehow, Lucas can finally see himself making brave choices, trying new things, trusting himself to know what he wants. It’s that seeing the way Eliott has trusted himself and in his feelings has made it easier for Lucas to accept his own. Take on new challenges because he wants to, leave the fear behind.

Life, for Lucas, has been full of new experiences lately.

Eliott leans down to kiss him again, deep and encompassing, pressing Lucas into the mattress with the kind of fervor that leaves Lucas shaking.

“Wait,” Lucas gasps, grabbing Eliott’s hips as Eliott freezes and pulls back. “No, don’t stop I just…” Lucas presses back against him and flips them, coming to straddle Eliott’s waist. “I want to try something.”

Eliott blinks, once, twice, his eyes dark as his gaze roams Lucas’ face. “Yeah, okay,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

Lucas kisses him, Eliott’s mouth soft and wet against him. Then he moves his way down Eliott’s neck, his chest, his stomach pressing searing kisses to the skin as Eliott pants beneath him. When he reaches the waistband of Eliott’s boxers he looks up and finds Eliott looking back at him with something akin to awe on his face.

“Okay?” he asks, his mouth pressing the question into Eliott’s waistline. 

“God. Yes. Please ,” Eliott pants out and Lucas can’t help but grin that he’s reduced eloquent romantic Eliott to single syllables.

“Okay,” Lucas replies, hooking his fingers in Eliott’s boxers and pulling them down, Eliott breathing out a punched out moan as Lucas returns and presses a kiss to his inner thigh.

Later, as Lucas lies in bed, a sheet pulled up around his hips, Eliott produces a joint from his bag and waves it excitedly at him as Lucas rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s Amsterdam!” Eliott says as he lights it, throwing open the window so the sounds from the street below float into the room.

“You’re so stupid,” Lucas says, but he can’t conceal his laughter, the way his happiness bubbles up, uncontained. 

“So, you don’t want any?” Eliott asks, lifting an eyebrow as he takes a drag.

“I never said that,” Lucas says quickly and opens his arms beckoning Eliott to him.

Eliott returns to him quickly and they lay there, passing the joint between them, wrapped up in each other, Eliott’s fingers tracing patterns on Lucas’ arms. It’s quiet and peaceful and Lucas can’t help but lean into the soft comfort of Eliott’s embrace, so relaxed and at ease it’s like he’s had it forever.

Is that what it is?

They wake late the next day, Lucas wrapped in the warm circle of Eliott’s arms, a brief spike of panic coursing through him until he remembers he has nowhere to be, nothing to hide from. He can just be.

He relaxes even more when he finally convinces himself to check his phone while Eliott’s in the shower and finds a text from his mother that takes away the last of the burden.

Maman to Lucas

You could never disappoint me my darling son. 

I love you. Call me when you can.

If his happiness is evident on his face, it’s only reflected in Eliott’s as he laughs when Lucas grabs him the minute he steps out of the bathroom, hugging him close and pressing his face into his neck.

“I’m so happy you found me,” Lucas whispers. 

Eliott pulls back and pecks him gently, once, twice, three times. 

“I think you’re the one who found me.”

They can agree to disagree.

Eliott drags him to a bakery his friend recommended and then across the city to the Van Gogh museum, telling Lucas it’s something they simply have to see. Lucas takes a brief stop to call his mother, who answers with her voice soft and warm, assuring Lucas she loves him and asking him to pass the phone to this Eliott boy . 

Lucas tries to protest but Eliott hears from where he’s sitting and grabs the phone from Lucas’ hand, talking and laughing with Lucas’ mother on the other end. Lucas gapes at him when he hands the phone back and Eliott just shrugs, telling him, she just made me promise to take care of you. I told her not to worry.

Lucas can only shake his head as he brings the phone back up to his ear, just to have her tell him that Eliott sounds like a wonderful boy and again that she loves him. And Lucas really doesn’t blame Eliott when he looks a little smug after that.

Once they get inside the museum, Eliott spends the whole time raving about color and brushstrokes and genius and Lucas understands almost none of it, but he doesn’t care, as long as it makes Eliott happy. Eliott gets a little quieter, for a moment, when he talks about Van Gogh’s personal struggles, the way pain had come and never quite left, so Lucas reaches out and takes Eliott’s hand, squeezing it, and leans over to lightly kiss Eliott’s shoulder.

He doesn’t say anything but he knows Eliott understands from the way he looks back and smiles. It’s a smile like that, private and reserved just for Lucas, that makes the feeling in his chest expand just a little.

Can it be named yet?

And just like that, their days in Amsterdam fall away. Lucas loses count at some point, how long they’ve been there, their time so full of Eliott’s laughter and Lucas’ heart beating and kissing, that they start to blend together. 

Kissing.

Lucas knows he’d never really been kissed before Eliott and certainly not like this. Lucas learns quickly that there are many different kinds, many more than he’d ever imagined and it seems like Eliott is on a mission to try out them all.

There’s kisses on his mouth and his cheeks and his jaw and his neck and searing ones that leave marks all over his body. There’s kisses in the street and in parks and on benches and pressed up against walls. At some point Lucas wonders if he should be getting used to these kisses, the way Eliott’s mouth feels against him, but then Eliott kisses him again and everything else is gone from Lucas’ mind and all he can remember is Eliott .

And even when they leave Amsterdam behind, Eliott seems to want to try everything all over again in each new place as if somehow the feeling of Lucas’ lips would have changed depending on the coordinates. Lucas wants to make fun of him, he really does, but then Eliott kisses him and it turns out he’s right. They’re all different. Every single one.

From Amsterdam they head to Belgium, stopping in Antwerp for a few days before making their way down to Brussels. Eliott takes a video of Lucas spinning around in the city center and when Lucas watches the video back he can hardly recognize the boy in it, his face full of the kind of joy Lucas didn’t think himself capable of. 

He sends the video to the boys only to have them all tease him about Eliott being the perfect instagram boyfriend. But later, Yann texts him separately and tells him it’s good to see him so happy, and Lucas can’t help but hold Eliott a little tighter that night.

From Brussels, they make their way up to Oslo and then back down to Germany where they make stops in Hamburg, Berlin and a few other small cities that Lucas can hardly remember the name of, culminating in a brief stint in an off-season ski lodge in the Alps because Eliott found a number and a discount online.

It’s seeing Eliott standing in the midst of a vast sea of green, swearing at the miles still left to climb that makes the thing in Lucas’ chest finally take root and sprout vines that weave around his heart, turning the feeling into something unescapable, something that’s been nurtured enough to grow. 

But there’s no fear as the vines begin to flower. Instead, it’s mostly wonder. And-

Lucas can’t think about that yet.

From there, there’s a quick flyover to Madrid, since Eliott had promised himself he’d get back to Spain and found cheap last minute flights. It’s become common along the way for Eliott to come to Lucas wide-eyed and excited, full of ideas and plans, and for Lucas to just say yes. He trusts Eliott, he does, and finds he really doesn’t care where he goes as long as he’s with Eliott.

Then they head back to Italy, starting in Venice, where Eliott insists they have to take a gondola ride because it’s romantic . Lucas balks a bit at the price but sees the way Eliott’s eyes shine with the thought, so he figures out a solution. In the end, they share a gondola with a pair of American students and an older British couple that had been standing near one of the pickup points so they can all split the cost. Lucas worries it’s not close enough to what Eliott had in mind. But as they sit there, fingers intertwined on Lucas’ lap, Eliott whispers, it’s perfect, in Lucas’ ear, and he can’t help the way his heart races. 

(It doesn’t hurt that the older woman tells them they’re a beautiful couple as they go to leave the boat. Eliott thanks her, but Lucas only manages a deep blush.)

And that feeling in Lucas’ chest grows with every touch, with every kiss, with every new place Eliott takes him. It’s a feeling that’s a bit like luck, and a bit like awe, and a bit like adoration and longing and desire and choice all wrapped up into one. And Lucas thinks he knows, but he hasn’t dared to say it.

This has to be love.

But it’s Rome, finally, that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

It’s the final stop on their nearly 6-week trip, culminating in a flight back to Paris the next Sunday morning – only three days away.

They’d splurged, just a bit, on a 3-star hotel because Eliott, after staying in their fair share of cramped hostels, had begged Lucas for a queen bed just so he could hold him, away from anyone else. And Lucas had been hard pressed to turn him down.

They’re in the middle of the Roman Forum when it hits him, a new kind of panic. Somehow, being surrounded by things so ancient and grand makes Lucas think of the things he’d been holding back on. The stories around him stitched together mostly in memory, and Lucas finds himself wondering if that’s what this will be too, a memory bolstered only by ticket stubs and material remnants rather than the person he lived it with.

It’s the word that’s been crawling out of his chest, trying to force its way out of his mouth every time he looks at Eliott. The feeling that had been demanding a name, the thing that Lucas isn’t quite sure Eliott reciprocates. Love. 

When they leave on Sunday will things change? Will Eliott want this, want him when grand spontaneous adventures are no longer a part of their daily life?

Lucas is aware, in a way, that none of this is normal. He knows he and Eliott have moved fast. Faster than he’d ever thought himself capable. One minute scared and alone by his own self imposition and the next alive and wanting under Eliott’s gentle honesty and daring gaze.

But Eliott had never signed up for this, for anything longer than these six or seven weeks. He’d called that first dinner in Amsterdam a date, yes, but there’s been no labeling beyond that. When they land in Paris will Eliott expect them to go back to being strangers? 

He holds the panic in, putting on a brave face for the rest of the day as Eliott continues to drag him around to all must-see spots on his list. He manages for most of it but then something must slip, as it’s wont to do, and without meaning for it, Eliott notices.

They’re walking down the street, on their way back to their hotel after dinner, when Eliott grabs his arm softly to stop him, and twists around so they’re facing each other on the sidewalk.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle as he holds Lucas’ hands. 

Lucas shakes him off but keeps his eyes on the ground, something stopping him from looking at Eliott. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Eliott presses, making an aborted attempt to reach out to Lucas again only to catch himself. “Because if I did something to make you upset…”

“It’s nothing you did . And I’m not upset.”

It’s unfair to put this on Eliott, to expect him to take on Lucas’ fear again, to take on Lucas at all. He wishes that he could forget, even just for a day or two, that there’s an hourglass suspended above their heads, counting down the hours they have left. But he can’t.

“Okay,” Eliott says slowly, “but if something’s wrong, I’d want you to tell me…”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Lucas says, but his voice cracks as he feels the familiar tightness at the back of his throat, the shaking start in his hands.

“Baby,” Eliott says as he steps closer, cradling Lucas’ face in his hands and tilting his head up, “why are you crying?”

And that feeling in his chest starts at Eliott’s words, at the way he’s holding him, at the way he called him baby . Lucas can’t hold it in any longer.

“What happens when we get back to Paris?” he whispers.

Eliott stills. “What do you mean? You’re going to start uni and I’m going to get a job and we’ll figure it out from there, right?”

“But what about with us?”

“I mean, sure, I’ll have to take the bus to come and see you but it’s really not that far and you could always stay at my apartment if you needed on days you stay over late or…” Eliott looks at him, confused, and Lucas can’t speak, needs a minute to process what Eliott’s saying. “Is that not what you want?”

“No, I just,” he pauses, breaths. “So you’d still want to be with me once we’re back home?”

“Yes, of course,” Eliott says quickly. “Why would you think anything else?”

“You just never said,” Lucas replies, his hands coming up to rest over Eliott’s on his cheeks as he presses their foreheads together. “I don’t know, I thought that maybe it was just a summer fling or something for you.”

“It’s not. Is it to you?”

“No, never.”

Eliott smiles and then kisses him, so fully, so completely that Lucas sways where he stands, feels it all the way down to his toes.

“Would you like to put a label on it?” Eliott asks as he pulls away.

“Maybe,” Lucas says, grinning.

“How does boyfriend sound?”

“Perfect.”

And then they’re kissing again. Here, in the street, another new kiss for Lucas to check off their list.

They break away for a moment and as if Eliott can hear his thoughts, as though Eliott knows him better than he realized, he asks him, “Is that all?”

Lucas pauses, knows that he could say no, move on and hide away the feeling that’s been battling its way to the surface for weeks. Or he could let go, give himself over to it, say fuck fear, and say it, to hell with the consequences.

But this time the fear doesn’t feel like drowning, it feels a little more like skydiving. The kind that comes when you’re waiting to jump, when all you have left to do is leap.

“There might be something else.”

“Okay.” Eliott looks concerned, but runs a thumb across Lucas’ cheekbone.

And this is it – the moment of falling and hoping the parachute carries you down.

“I love you,” Lucas says, his voice surprisingly strong for the way his hands shake.

Eliott looks at him for a moment, eyes big, before a small smile starts to spread over his face, lighting up his features as he stands there. And then– 

“I love you too.”

The parachute opens behind him and Lucas lands safely on the ground.

They somehow make it back to their hotel, their time nearly doubled as Eliott takes advantage of every opportunity to press Lucas against a wall and kiss him, the kind that sends sparks down Lucas’ spine and makes him never want to let Eliott go.

They barely make it inside their room before Lucas is on him, pulling Eliott close and reaching to rid him of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against him.

“Whoa, slow down,” Eliott says, laughing as Lucas tries to kiss him again.

“No,” Lucas mumbles from where he’s kissing Eliott’s neck. “I want you now.”

He hears Eliott groan and then he pulls Lucas’ mouth back to his own so he can kiss him again. His kisses are sweet and open-mouthed and remind Lucas that Eliott runs warm in all the best ways, his touch like fire on him.

“Okay,” Eliott says finally, as he pulls back panting. “Okay, you’re going to have to stop kissing me if you want me to ever take my clothes off.”

Lucas giggles, but backs off, hands raised, as he makes his way over to their bed, stopping to dig something out of his bag.

“Okay,” Eliott says again as he walks over to Lucas, now only wearing his boxers, “you need to catch up.”

“So help me,” Lucas whispers, reaching up to pull Eliott to him, and kisses him again.

They sway on the spot, Eliott’s hands running all over Lucas as he holds him, tilting his head to kiss him deeper, biting gently at Lucas’ bottom lip and taking advantage of his gasp to lick into his mouth.

It’s somehow gentle and intense all at once, the kind of toe-curling eagerness that sends Lucas’ head spinning. They break apart only for Eliott to pull Lucas’ shirt over his head and for Lucas to step out of his pants before they fall on the bed together, legs intertwined.

Lucas can’t think of anything but Eliott’s touch and his mind only knows one word – Eliott, Eliott, Eliott . Eliott surrounds him so completely that Lucas finds himself wondering how Eliott is managing to touch him, to hold him like that only to lose his thought when Eliott trails a hand down his back and pulls his hips closer.

Lucas moans at the contact and Eliott pulls away to bite a mark into his neck, Lucas writhing at the sting and the soothing swipe of Eliott’s tongue. Lucas runs his nails lightly down Eliott’s back and presses his fingers under the waistband of Eliott’s boxers and knows, as Eliott pants on top of him, that he’s going to ask. Lucas is ready.

“What do you want to do?” Eliott asks, his voice deep, his eyes dark. 

Lucas wordlessly reaches down next to the bed and produces a condom and lube from where he’d thrown them earlier. Eliott’s breath catches.

“Are you sure?” Eliott asks him.

“Completely sure,” Lucas replies.

And then Eliott is on him again, ridding them both of their boxers and moving back to lean over where Lucas is spread out on the mattress. His touch is gentle, his kisses deep as they move together, their skin burning in all the places they’re pressed together. 

Lucas , Eliott pants out as Lucas runs his hand down Eliott’s body, as he bites at the skin just below Eliott’s ear. Eliott , Lucas whispers back as Eliott touches him and takes him apart, bit by bit. Lucas has never known something like this – the overwhelming way everything becomes Eliott .

They come together finally, Eliott moving slowly as Lucas adjusts, his moans sprinkled with okay? and does that feel good? as Lucas moves below him. Lucas nods and whispers back a choked out yes as the feeling overwhelms him and the heat spreads fast and low in his stomach. Eliott’s all over him, his hands everywhere, Lucas just trying to hold on as their rhythm builds and starts to get sloppy, as they pull each other closer. And that’s enough, as Lucas’ back arches off the mattress and Eliott follows close behind, clutching Lucas to him as the waves ride through them.

They lay, after, clutching each other as their breathing settles. Eliott only leaving the bed to grab a cloth to wipe Lucas off and then lifting the covers to settle them under the blankets, pulling Lucas onto his chest.

It’s only after Eliott presses a kiss to his temple, whispers you’re beautiful into his hair and lies back on the pillows, his breath evening out as sleep takes over that Lucas allows himself to think it, really believe it, for the first time. Because, in the end, they’re the only ones who get to decide.

It is love.

Sunday comes just as Lucas knew it would. There’s packing and checking out of the hotel and a frantic run to the airport shuttle to make their flight in time. 

When they get to the airport, they get through security, buy a snack and go wait at their gate just like anyone else. Only Eliott refuses to let go of Lucas’ hand unless he absolutely has to. Lucas can’t help but smile every time he finds Eliott reaching for him.

It’s easy somehow, even though Lucas will miss the spontaneity of their lives during this trip, to be excited for what’s to come. For a life where they’ll be together, not just in front of each other, but surrounded by the people they already know. 

There’s grounding there somehow, a firmer foundation that will make Eliott feel less like a dream and more like reality. At first, it scared Lucas to think about them without the rosy glow of this fantasy thing. But the more he thinks about it, the more he knows it will be a relief to no longer have to pinch himself and expect that it’ll wake him up. 

Because Eliott isn’t a dream. He doesn’t just exist in this vacuum of worlds they’d explored together. But neither does Lucas. And somehow, it’s even more exciting to imagine what they’ll be when life picks them up again and takes them along for the routine of the everyday. Vibrant, but in other ways. In the variety of them.

Eliott takes his hand again as they board the plane and Lucas lets him lead them to their seats. Eliott’s out, almost as soon as the plane takes off, and Lucas finds himself shifting so that Eliott’s head falls to rest on his shoulder as he sleeps on, the weight sending a smile to Lucas’ face.

The thing in his chest shifts as the plane flies through the air, flowering now with something new, born of love and desire and longing. It replaces any fear left behind, chases it away to dark shadows and keeps it at bay for now, as Eliott shuffles closer to Lucas in his sleep.

So when the pilot comes on and announces their descent into Paris, Lucas finds nothing waiting there for him in his heart but love–

–and hope.

[completeoveranalysis]

[1]

Chapitre 197 - Two Lives

Oh mister imbalance himself! No thank you take it back. 

The splash text reads:

My indecision and my hesitation I discarded long ago

So that I may obtain one singe thing

And yeah I guess that does sum him up pretty well.

The pose is frankly incredible, I don’t think he deserves it. 

This is the giant oil painting of himself he hangs in the break room of his evil organisation. He has smaller poster versions he puts up in all the hallways. He also has bookmarks made as well. He loves this version of himself dearly. It’s the way he really sees himself. It’s the way he assumes he is. 

And the moon he reaches towards is so beautiful, but I think there’s a little bit of actual moon nonsense I don’t quite get with him yet. The full moon appeared in the reflection of the water that one time, out of sync with the time around it, and I’m not sure if that’s if further significance to Evil Wolverine himself or if it was more of a warning of the time of his arrival. 

But either way It’s so interesting that he could be just be standing by the moon, but instead he’s standing in front of a roughly hewn out poor imitation of the moon instead. It’s not even exactly the right shape, and you can see the broken base at the bottom, still jagged. And IS it the moon, or is it a leftover fragment of that statue Sakura that was praying at? Is it an echo of Evil Wolverine hacking away at the universe and taking the remnants proudly for himself? 

Is it a continuation of how he hacks away at everything he touches in service of his own wish, leaving everything else around him a broken ruin that suits him perfectly? How he not only doesn’t care about the lives he ruins but ACTIVELY aims to do it in order to get what he wants? 

Is it a peek into the fact that he wants "the moon", but all he’ll ever be able to achieve is an ugly simulacrum of it? How he’ll never get exactly what he wants, but thinks that ruining the universe until he can get something close enough is good enough for him? That it’s some incredible and worthy goal worth looking forward to, but in reality it's just a shambles of broken rock, battered and stolen and only a fraction of what it might have been without him? 

Is the fact that it’s all Rock a sign that Evil Wolverine’s wish is essentially just a barren landscape, a lifeless universe that roughly looks almost like what he wants if you squint a bit?

And yet he thinks he’s pulling it off masterfully the entire time. 

Also there's a JUICY, delicious morsel in the fact that the splash text refers to him leaving behind "hesitation" specifically - and it was Lava Lamp's hesitation that ultimately lead to him missing Sakura's hand and being unable to save her. It shows the parallel between the two (that Evil Wolverine himself is so thrilled by) and also demonstrates why Evil Wolverine thinks he's right. It's almost like he's experienced the exact same moment already, or something very similar to it. If he ever does hesitate he'll have the same result - he'll lose the person he's fighting to save. So he's decided to go Full Speed in the other direction and never hesitate or let anything else ever hold him back again, and this has lead to him full on slaughtering countless worlds without ever thinking twice.

It's a great reflection on what Lava Lamp's own dedication could turn into - and he's from the same bloodline, so the parallels write themselves. If pushed in the same directions WOULD Lava Lamp end up as the next Evil Wolverine, or will his heart let him grow in ways that Evil Wolverine cut out of himself a long time ago?