Archive of Our Own ^beta

Petals. Flower petals are everywhere in sight.
He can’t see anything but the light purple color, spining around him in a gush of wind.
When they slowly start scattering, a vague silhouhette appears, getting clearer as the purple mist dissolves.
Taki.
Taki as he first met him, ten years ago. Exactly the same. He can perfectly make out all of the details on the intricate kimono, all of the care that was put into perfecting Taki’s appearance.
And he’s looking at him. He’s looking at him with these eyes that have never ceased to haunt him since that day.
He kneels at his feet.
“My flower.”
Taki holds out his hand, and he kisses it, with nothing but reverence in mind. He’s captivated by the regal being before him, his master.
Taki silently gives the slightest of tugs on his hand, and he immediately rises, like the invisible chain cast around his neck just ordered him to.
He takes the child in his arms, to allow him to reach the wisteria above them.
“Won’t you become mine?”
He realizes it’s not the young Taki who spoke, but him as an adult, still clad in his ornate robes.
And he’s carressing his face with the shyest of smiles, and Klaus couldn’t look away even if he had wanted to.
He tries to speak, “Ta-,” but is stopped by a finger on his mouth. That finger is soon replaced by the softest lips he’s ever known.
They kiss, and it feels like the world completely disappears around them, like it always feels in moments like these, and nothing could ever matter more than the man in his arms. Not now, not ever.
When they part, Taki’s appearance has changed again. He’s still an adult, but this time he’s wearing plain clothing, similar to what they used to wear in Luckenwalde.
He’s blushing, and he’s so beautiful.
“… Klaus.”
They kiss again, and when he feels the younger man’s hands tangling in his hair, he can’t help but push him down.
The next time he opens his eyes, they’re both naked, laying on white sheets.
Taki is still blushing, brighter than before. If he could, he would probably be as bright as a blooming rose.
“… Yours.”
That’s when he wakes up.
He lies still for a while, confused, and releases a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
As he slowly regains his bearings, now breathing heavily, the dream replays under his closed eyelids.
That’s when reality chooses to hit him hard.
“What the hell,” he growls out loud. What was his subconscious doing, tormenting him like this? These memories were long gone and he knew it, for he had been the one who had spoiled everything.
He had been the one getting his hopes up, he had been the one not reading the desperate signs Taki had sent him. He had been the one taking it out on Taki the moment things hadn’t gone as he had wished they would.
He felt sick now, and he knew he deserved it, but there was obviously nothing to be done about it in the middle of the night.
So he got up and headed to his bathroom for a shower. To get rid of the gross feeling of sweat clinging to his body, and hopefully of the throbbing between his legs remaining from his earlier visions too.