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Language:
English
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Published:
2022-11-09
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1,055
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1/1
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4
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25
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I don't smoke

Summary:

Except for when I'm missing you

Notes:

I don't know how much I like this but I would like to get it out of my drafts. Sorry for any grammatical errors.

Work Text:

Pariston can remember the first time he smoked a cigarette. He was twelve years old and on break. An older coworker offered him a puff, his body ached from being on his feet so he didn’t decline it like he usually did. It’s not like his parents would find out what he did and yell at him, Pariston didn’t have a family like that.

He took a hold of it in his pointer and thumb, careful to not let it run away. The cigarette was hot in his fingertips and tricky to hold on to. He lifted the cig to his lips and inhaled. The smoke burned his throat to his lungs as it rolled through. A cough brought back up smoke and left a slight dizziness in his head and a buzz in his chest. It was soothing. He craved that buzz and delicacy the smoke left behind.

Ging left the same effect.

-

Partition was introduced to Ging through Netero. At the time Ging was a single-star hunter. Young, bright, cocky, and didn’t lack personal space, as Pariston did. But unlike the cigarette, Pariston couldn’t hold onto Ging. He’d leave for months with no explanation of where he was heading and with no warning.

-

The first time they kissed was two years and five months after they first met, Pariston counted.

It happened during a hunter association Christmas party. The white wine Pariston was supposed to be nursing accidentally turned into multiple refills.

Ging had sat uncomfortably at the bar all night trying to plan his escape, till a flush blonde hunter arrived in front of him pulling him onto the dance floor.

The night ended in front of the blonde's apartment door, with Pariston lowering his head to crash his lips into Ging’s. The cold air burned his lungs as they separated, but his hand on the ebony’s neck proved to tell Ging was still hot. Ging always ran hot, as if the sweat he wore were a portable sauna. Pariston always believed everyone was as cold and unlifelike as himself till he met the other.

“Don’t leave this time,” Pariston murmured into Ging’s ear before swiveling around to his apartment where he entered and didn’t invite the other hunter.
-

Ging left. He always did. One thing Pariston knew the other could be consistent about.

But he always came back. And Pariston always found himself craving more.

Five years had passed since the two first met each other. Pariston was promoted to vice chairman and the zodiacs were formed. Ging has to come around more often now, for paperwork and other stuff. Pariston knows he is the other stuff.

-

It had been five months and four days since he last saw Ging. Although he came around more, it was never enough for Pariston.

Pariston pulled open his top drawer where an almost empty pack lay. There was a rule about smoking in the building, but he couldn’t find himself caring. Cheadle would throw a fit and try to speak to Netero about it, but he would just ignore it, and at the next Zodiac meeting she’ll glare at him the entire time. He couldn’t find the urge to care, anyways a part of himself enjoys how Cheadles would growl and bark at him, and Pariston was never one to disapprove of self-pleasure.

He lit the cigarette and inhaled. He holds his breath till his lungs are begging and must be black with tar. It soothed and burned, but more importantly, it reminded him of a special black hair hunter.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Ging arrived a month later. Pariston had smoked every day since he last saw him a hundred and eighty-six days ago.

“It helps with the yearning,” He replied, offering the short to Ging. He didn’t need it anymore, not as long as Ging was there.

-

They married in the summer during their seventh year of knowing each other. They tried to have Cheadle or Mizai officiate but both declined claiming that it would be unprofessional. Instead, they got married at the association’s office by signing papers and adopted a cat.

Pariston named her Boots because of the pattern on her paws. Ging whined claiming the name is stupid but awed at the way she climbed into his lap for a nap.

Pariston hadn't smoked since Ging returned in the spring.

A part of him wanted to throw out the pack in his desk and the other on his nightstand, but he knew that the day would come that Ging would eventually leave.

-

They get divorced in the winter. There is no custody battle about Boots, Pariston gets to keep her. He wishes there was a fight. He wants Ging to fight over something that is both theirs, he wants Ging to fight over himself. He wants Ging to stay.

“It’s good I’m keeping Boots, you were a shitty father the first time around,” Ging’s aura changed but he didn't fight. He knew that's what Pariston wanted. Instead, he left.

That was the first day Pariston smoked in over nine months. He burned through a whole pack and Boots cried over the smoke.

-

Cheadle offered her condolences and seemed sincere. But she was always sincere in everything she did. Pariston didn’t accept her pity and returned to her the toaster and bottle of wine she bought as their wedding gift. It wasn’t the exact bottle of wine, Ging and Pariston had drunk it, but he bought another bottle to return it. She tried to talk to Pariston about what happened and offered a supportive hand. She was a divorcee too but she must’ve forgotten that Pariston was still Pariston.

The milk frother and espresso machine Mizai bought were returned to him. Pariston decided the Cow could use it more than him and boots.

One by one all the gifts were returned to the senders except one, a game. Ging’s buddies sent them a copy presumingly as a joke or as a honeymoon gift. But the more Pariston dwelled on the thought of the game the better it sounded.

Die in the game; die in real life. It would be ironic for him to die from Ging’s creation. He hoped it would haunt Ging.

Pariston took a drag of the cigarette, which was almost a nub before he grabbed his suitcase.