#i just wanna write paragraphs about how th*ncred can only deal with things physically and struggling with that I GUESS.

[tsunael]

wolcred week |  4. 'broken / trust.'

She was a veritable tour de force– an absolute nightmare of a woman. Yet, despite what the bards might sing, she was just as human as any other.

-> part I.

-> cw: suggestive themes.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Wait– Gods– I’ll be sick.”

Overindulging in drink and dancing on bloody feet had left a typhoon of a woman clinging to the bark of a pixie apple tree for a semblance of stability.

He halted his stride with a huff and readjusted his grip on their youngest charge to wait with waning patience. He had half-expected to carry one of them home, but not certainly not Ryne, though he heard Alphinaud and Alisaie had met with similar fates. Y’shtola had done him a service and seen to their care, as well as Urianger's-- and must be thankful, for that was one man he did not want to carry across the Crystarium grounds.

That only left their most important cargo to him– how lucky he was-- and if Tsuna did not get ahold of herself, he feared he would soon find himself out of hands. 

He looked on past the treetops, to the early morning sky peeking through the crystal dome to find a moment to wax poetic. “Destroyer of Primals, Lightwarden’s Bane... but a flagon of ale has not ceased to bring the Warrior of Darkness to her knees, I see.”

Tsuna shot a pointed look in his direction. “P-Piss off,” she droned, half-way between a hiss and a whine. "You're making it worse."

All he could do was offer his own exhausted smirk at her expense. 

It was true. Tsuna Wasaishi could fell all manner of beasts with enough willpower and sheer dumb luck, but the stairs to her chambers seemed her most daunting adversary yet.

Ryne had been put to bed, which freed his attention to better escort the stumbling woman into his chambers on the first floor to circumvent the climb.

She fell upon his mattress in a heap, looking at once grateful for sturdy ground.

“Off,” she mumbled. Her knuckles tapped the hard cage of her corset and drew his exhausted sigh. “Please,” she added, weakly. Even at her wits end she still found it pertinent to be cordial, and he had no choice but to oblige.

Tsuna slumped forward for him, pulling her hair loose and tossing it over her clammy shoulder to better offer her laces. The cotton of the cincher was damp to the touch, her skin still shone with sweat. He thumbed the laces, pulling them free from the centre-outward, and as he broke her free from the busk, and immediately she began to breathe easier.

He had to wonder why one woman would put herself through so much for such pain just to numb another.

She offered him a shy look from over her bare shoulder, muttering something so incoherent he could only barely piece it together. “... stay with me?” she asked.

He was struck by the blunt force three words could bring. It was not as if they hadn’t shared a night in the past. Even so, he stood from the bed, only to prostrate himself before her, if only to make her more comfotable.

“I would not leave you in such a sorry state.” It was the truth, though he chuffed to hide from his own trepidation. “It’s all right. You needed this.”

Tsuna closed her eyes agreeably, and nodded, softly humming in perceived content as he fished for her ankle under her dress’ hem. 

“You’re my dearest friend, Thancred. Y'know that, yes?”

His hands paused. He knew. Gods, he knew. They mapped each other's hurts like no one else ever would.

How many times had he found himself wanting to sit outside her door for that very reason?

Slowly, she picked up her skirts before him, and rose them high to aid in his task. Completely unabashed, she revealed to him the shapely, naked length of her legs for a show. His eyes were drawn down to the map of scales hugging her sides, then up– up to the lazy, amused smile curling her lips. She looked down on him, a supplicant, and a familiar heat rushed through him.

“I could tell you anything,” she whispered, softer. “Couldn’t I?”

He bit his cheek, tilting his chin down, trying to focus on the matter at hand. 

“Of course.”

Thancred’s hands smoothed up her firm calves and carefully removed the battered heel from her right foot. Her soles were angry and blistered from her hours of revelry, and so with the same care he removed the left, though it was there that he lingered. The thumb on her calve began to move in easy circles to loosen the band of muscle grown taut with pain and overuse. Tsuna drew in a sharp breath and squirmed in his hands, and the hem rose higher still.

He crept up past her knee, and settled on her lower thigh before he stopped himself. 

He had broken her trust before, and he would not do so again– even if she were more than willing. 

“Keep going.”

Her hand clasped over his own, and drew it upwards, his thumb reaching beneath her skirts, to dip into the crease of her thigh for a tantalizing moment. He knew what she wanted, and he would visit all seven of the Hells if he admitted he wished the same. The Gods only knew how long he had been bereft. 

It took all he had to retract his hand, despite her protests. “I won’t,” he muttered firmly under his breath. “Not like this.”

“Why?" Tsuna sat upright, lips twisted in hurt. "Gods– Warm me.” He looked away, rueful, only managing to raise her frustration. “You said so: I need this–” Her voice fell soft, desperate. Her hands clasped his face, stroking lines across his cheeks in order to pull him in. 

She was looking for another way to drown, and he would not have a part in it.

“It wouldn’t be the first–”

“All the more reason not to make the same mistake twice,” he interrupted, pulling her hands from him. “Another time. Another place.” And he would.

A kiss was pressed to her palm, and she was struck silent.

He used the opportunity to stand, to begin the ritual of shucking his coat to prepare for his own rest, when without so much as a sound, she reached for his now-naked hand, and despite it all– despite everything– his thumb ran careful circles over her knuckle.

She needed something more than just a warm body beside her, and it was something he could not provide.