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It’s sticky, Summer.
The heat of southern Japan in August is balmy, oppressive. Sometimes, Yoshiki feels like he’s wading through air made of sweat, or trying to breathe under water. Overwhelming his senses, the hotness of it is a cloying thing that forms to his skin, oozes down his throat. It’s not anything he isn’t used to. He’s lived in Kubitachi his entire life. But, perhaps, this year it isn’t about the heat at all.
He’s suffocating and choking on plenty of other things, after all.
In his room reading Master x Master , serenaded by the thrum of a standing fan, ‘Hikaru’ is laying belly-down on his bed, kicking his feet. Yoshiki can’t help but stare at him out of the corner of his eye as he splits his attention between the manga and the masquerade of his best friend. Sometimes, he feels it’s getting easier. Seeing Hikaru’s face and snaggletoothed smile, hearing his laugh despite knowing it’s not really him. Other times, he’s absolutely drowning. And, regardless of how the day is going on either front, if he stares too long, his vision starts to tunnel like he’s watching everything around him through a pair of binoculars.
Yoshiki isn’t a man prone to panic. Before that night on the mountain, he wouldn’t have been able to describe an attack if he tried. But that feels like ages ago. Now, just hearing ‘Hikaru’ speak makes the tips of his fingers tingle and his chest ache. It isn’t fair. None of this is. How can he ever be expected to grieve when the object of his torture smiles at him and shares in memories that shouldn’t belong to him? It isn’t fair, no, but…
It’s his.
“Yoshiki,” ‘Hikaru’ says, not looking up from the manga.
“Mm?” Yoshiki keeps his eyes trained on his own volume, though his heart rate spikes. It always does. Somehow, the cells in his body seem to recognize that whatever is sharing his space begs to be feared. He parts his lips, inhales, keeps his cool.
“Somethin’s botherin’ ya?”
He glances up. “No, why?” Though the insides of his head scream LIAR LIAR LIAR.
‘Hikaru’ looks a little nervous, and his slight laughter only lends itself to that assessment. It’s strange, that something so unknown and inhuman can stutter in the face of typical interactions. Yoshiki supposes, though, that of course it would be the thing to trip them up. Experiencing humanity for the first time must be terrifying. He wonders if ‘Hikaru’ is drowning too, but isn’t sure how to ask. He doesn’t have to at the moment, though, because there’s shuffling on the bed, scooting over, and then a place is being patted on the duvet cover.
“Come up here with me?”
Yoshiki frowns. “Why? It’s hot.”
The grin he’s met with pulls just a fraction too wide. “‘Cause I like bein’ close t’ya. Please?”
Well, he can’t say no to that.
Now laying in the space afforded to him, the proximity is a living thing between them, twining and coalescing in the air it seems, like something is attempting to tie them together. Yoshiki feels it always, the pull. He wants to be closer too. Even if sometimes, once he gets there, he gets the sudden desire to vomit. It truly isn’t good for the psyche to be so evenly split between despair and wanting. He thinks, ultimately, something has to fracture. He isn’t a particularly strong-willed person, probably. In fact, he’s not really particularly much of anything, if you ask him. Maybe Hikaru would have had a different answer, once upon a time, if he’d been asked.
But, he’s dead now.
“Remember,” Yoshiki starts, unsure of why he’s bringing this up now when they have a perfectly good distraction before them in their favorite manga. “When ya told me y’couldn’t figure out which of Hikaru’s feelings were his and which were yers?”
‘Hikaru’ startles a bit, turns sheepish where he scratches at the back of his neck. “Oh, that. Yeah…guess I should’a kept that to myself, huh?”
Yoshiki shakes his head. “Just wonderin’ if ya got it now. Figured out, I mean.”
Their faces are close, like this, but not too close. He can only just begin to smell the toothpaste on ‘Hikaru’s’ breath. His own toothpaste. Completed by the fact that the guy is also wearing a pair of his sleep shorts and loose t-shirt that smells like his soap. It makes Yoshiki’s brain a little hazy.
‘Hikaru’ says, looking proud, “Yup! Decided they’re all mine.”
Frown. “How d’ya figure?”
A shrug. “Just that I ain’t really care if I like ya ‘cause he did too. I like ya anyways. So maybe I just agree with him. Y’know?” And there’s that grin again, snaggletooth and all. Yoshiki feels his chest splintering apart. And he tries to hold his tongue, he really does, because this kind of talk won’t get him anywhere, it’ll only ache. He wonders why he can’t help himself, but maybe that isn’t true either. Maybe he just wants someone to confirm it, so he can punish himself more for taking advantage of this–being close. He’s staring at a corpse, after all.
“‘Cept, the real Hikaru didn’t like me like that.”
‘Hikaru’ tilts his head, so still otherwise that it looks inhuman. The reflection within his pupil catches the lambent lighting of the room, shining red.
“What makes ya say that?”
Now, it’s Yoshiki’s turn to shrug, and look down. “Think I should know…He’s–he was my friend. No one knew him better’n me.”
‘Hikaru’ laughs, but Yoshiki doesn’t find it funny, and the moment he turns a glare onto the other who’s now rolled over on his back, it stops. ‘Hikaru’ pushes himself up onto an elbow, turns onto his side.
“Yer kinda dumb too, huh, Yoshiki?”
It’s said with such a genuine grin that, for a moment, all Yoshiki can do is stare. He’s not insulted. In fact, right now, he’s hardly remembering what was just said. Because the summer night air is filtering in through his window, the cicadas are buzzing their nightly farewells, and he’s watching Hikaru’s face lose his mind with laughter, stretched out sleep shirt halfway up his stomach.
It hurts. It hurts so thoroughly and terribly that the corners of his eyes begin to sting, and his breath feels short. Swallowing, he tries to get with the program, shakes his head.
“Why’s that?”
“‘Cause I know ‘im better than ya. Better than anyone else. It’s all right here.” He taps a pointer finger to his temple, smile still in place. “Try trustin’ me instead’a gettin’ all mopey. He liked ya so much…haha, I dunno how he managed it. I can’t be too close t’ya at school for too long otherwise it’s way too hard.”
Yoshiki blinks. It’s a lot to take in. “Huh? At school? Why?” He ignores the rest. It’s buzzing around in between his ears like hornets.
‘Hikaru’ leans closer, just a little. But it’s enough to stutter Yoshiki’s breath. He says, “Makes me wanna have you inside me again…but–.”
With a furious blush to his cheeks, Yoshiki plants his palm directly on ‘Hikaru’s’ face, and shoves him back. “Watch yer phrasin’! People’re gonna get the wrong idea…”
Blinking around his fingers, ‘Hikaru’ only opens his mouth and bites Yoshiki’s hands gently. “How’s it the wrong idea?” he says, and when Yoshiki doesn’t move his hand, ‘Hikaru’ opens his mouth, lets his tongue press against the digits pressed against his mouth. Yoshiki gasps, goes rigid, but doesn’t move.
“B-because…yer sayin’ it like…a sex thing. Idiot.”
‘Hikaru’s’ tongue trails up, in between Yoshiki’s middle and ring fingers, strange eyes fixed so completely on him that Yoshiki can do nothing but watch, enraptured and terrified. He remembers the way it felt, to stick his hand into that void. Cold and slippery and wrong–so wrong. But, the way ‘Hikaru’ had reacted…folded over himself gripping Yoshiki by the shoulders as he panted and moaned…it’d been nearly unbearable. He’d had to run to the bathroom before his next class just to furiously jack off into the toilet over it. And then, when it all caught up to him, he’d vomited right after.
‘Hikaru’ closes his lips around a finger, sucks then smiles around a bite. “Ain’t this weird for ya?”
Yoshiki doesn’t answer, he can’t. But he does nod.
“Sex thing…” ‘Hikaru’ says, addressing Yoshiki’s scolding. “I don’t get it. I remember…I’ve seen porn before. Or, he has. Lots of ‘em.”
Yoshiki can’t help himself. He says, “What kinds?” His heart is hammering, fingers trailing down to drag over ‘Hikaru’s’ lower lip, his chin. He touches over the other’s chest, and nauseating intrigue bubbles up within him remembering that splitting, sensitive seam.
‘Hikaru’ shrugs, hums to himself. He’s laying down again, Yoshiki looming over him. “Buncha different ones. Some of ‘em had girls with big tits. Some of ‘em had guys puttin’ other guys’ junk in their mouths an’ stuff.”
Yoshiki’s hearing flatlines to a single, high-pitched ringing. “He watched…gay porn?”
“Guess so. Hey, how do humans make their junk pop like that? I don’t get it.”
That flush comes back with a raging vengeance. “No way I’m gettin’ into that. Jack off on yer own if ya wanna know.”
‘Hikaru’ frowns, scoots closer. “I tried! It don’t feel like much. Just soft skin. All floppy. In the memories, it’s hard n’stuff. C’mon, help a guy out!” He pushes at Yoshiki’s shoulder, and receives a gasp for it. This is too much. It’s bad enough that he finds out right now, like this, that Hikaru watched gay porn. The thought alone that their feelings for each other may have been the same makes him want to kill himself in the most gruesome way possible. As if he isn’t already overencumbered by the sheer gravity of knowing he was too late to confess–having it reciprocated? It’s too much. It’s not fair. It hurts, bone deep and suffocatingly. “I think it felt real good for him and…I wanna try. Pl–.”
Again, Yoshiki is shoving his palm against ‘Hikaru’ to put some distance between them, but this time it’s against his chest. No heartbeat meets his palm and it’s so sickening that he nearly recoils from it. “Fuck off! Y’gotta learn boundaries. I can’t just–.”
I think it felt real good for him.
Right there…feels good…
Oh, well, maybe that can work.
‘Hikaru’ tilts his head again, stares down at Yoshiki’s hand on his chest. A ‘heartbeat’ starts up after a moment. Intentional. “Y’thinkin’ about it?” he says, with a grin and a waggle to his eyebrows.
Yoshiki licks his lips. He should stop this. It isn’t right. It’s an abuse of power. Or…something. It’s taking advantage of his friend’s corpse. It’s necrophilia at best, and sepukku-worthy at worst. An abomination. He shouldn’t want to–should be disgusted down to his marrow at the thought.
Gross. Disgusting. Abhorrent.
“Maybe…” he says, instead of any of that. “Y’just haven’t been touchin’ the right spot.” And to make his point known without having to think about how he should phrase or describe what he was thinking, Yoshiki presses the soft pads of his fingers into ‘Hikaru’s’ sternum, glances up at him with a rosy heat dusting over his cheek bones. ‘Hikaru’ is blushing too. That makes it better.
“Ya think…touchin’ inside again will…?”
Yoshiki gulps. “I dunno. Ya just…liked it. Before. Right?”
With much more enthusiasm than he expected, ‘Hikaru’ nods his head a mile a minute. “Yeah! I did. Maybe we can start with that? With yer…” He looks down, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. “...warm skin… I wanna feel it again, Yoshiki, can I? Promise I won’t suck ya up or scare ya. ‘Kay? Swear.”
“I liked it, too,” Yoshiki says before he even understands what he’s saying. “The sounds you made, and…when you poured into me, so…” He looks up, a serious expression with lust teasing the edges. “Ya gotta make ‘em for me again if m’gonna do it. Yeah?”
There’s that nodding again. “Yeah, I will. Here–.”
Beneath the tips of Yoshiki’s fingers, the flesh at ‘Hikaru’s chest begins to ripple and split. From it emanates a frosty chill that feels like heaven in the heatwave. Yoshiki can’t pull his eyes away from it if he tried. The pitch blackness, open and inviting and small, only large enough at the moment for a few fingers. He presses in between the flesh slowly, feels the way those cold insides squelch and part for the intrusion. ‘Hikaru’ gasps, but otherwise holds very still.
“Okay?” Yoshiki asks, looking up at him.
‘Hikaru’s’ eyes are lidded, his mouth parted as his gaze bores into Yoshiki’s, pinning him in place. “Yeah– more . Please, Yoshiki, I wanna feel more.”
Yoshiki laughs, though it’s breathless and nervous. “Ya really don’t get how that sounds, huh?” He doesn’t wait for a reply, just gives the other what he wants. As Yoshiki pushes further inside, ‘Hikaru’s’ chest continues to part and open for him, until it’s a yawning chasm of black. The moment he’s up to the middle of his forearm, his fingertips brush against something inside that causes ‘Hikaru’ to gasp and moan, bend forward over himself until his forehead presses against Yoshiki’s.
“Y-yeah…” ‘Hikaru’ says with parted lips and a keen to his voice. “That spot… right there.”
Yoshiki gulps, feels his saliva thicken in his mouth as it dries out. This isn’t right. Seeing Hikaru’s face twisting up and flushing like this. It’s not supposed to be like this. It should have been when–it should have been before–.
Breathe.
“This?” Yoshiki asks, and grips the slippery thing within ‘Hikaru.’ He twines his fingers, feels wetness and something that feels like an intestine loop around his finger. Gently, he tugs on it. The reaction is immediate, a louder gasp and moan, trembling fingers clutching onto his shoulders as if to ground him. Yoshiki feels the air being stolen right from his lungs, but he’s enraptured. Couldn’t look away even if he tried. Hikaru squeezes his eyes shut, jaw falling open as Yoshiki squeezes the void in his hands.
Then, the void calls back.
He feels them like tendrils, snaking up his arm, peeking out of ‘Hikaru’s’ chest like searching fingers. They pull his arm in deeper, past his elbow, until the angle is awkward enough that Hikaru falls back against the mattress, chest heaving and panting as his insides pull Yoshiki right along with them. This sight, he’s so done for. He feels himself reacting, his roomy sleep shorts tenting with the desire this act elicits. It’s then that he notices it, with ‘Hikaru’ lying back.
He’s hard too.
“There…” Yoshiki says, moving his arm up, splitting ‘Hikaru’ through his throat. He nods towards the obvious bulge in the other’s pajamas.“See?”
‘Hikaru’ follows his line of sight, whimpering and trembling as if it’s all he can do to hold himself back in this situation. Yoshiki remembers in the classroom, when he’d become overwhelmed and everything had spilled out, tackled him to the floor and nearly consumed him right then and there. He wonders if that’s what’s causing the tension in ‘Hikaru’s’ body, or if it’s purely pleasure. And part of him further wants the monster to break–to consume him, to meld their very escenses–mix them up for good.
They’d never be apart again.
“Yours too…” ‘Hikaru’ says when he looks back over, and Yoshiki feels the heat creeping up to his ears. For the embarrassment, he shoves in deeper, splays his fingers and clenches them into a fist, even goes so far as to yank.
“Shut up,” he says, as Hikaru cries out, tears in the corners of his eyes and practically writhing from what looks like overstimulation.
“ Yoshiki… ” ‘Hikaru whines, licking his lips and squirming. His back arches into Yoshiki’s touch as he pants. “I want—I wanna… hahh… .”
“Can’t understand ya like that,” Yoshiki says, and feels himself getting tunnel vision. He’s staring at the corpse of his best friend on his bed, writhing in pleasure with a hand in his chest. A hand in his chest. His best friend’s body is splitting open right in front of him and no blood is spilling out. Because he’s dead, he reminds himself. There’s no heart in here. No organs. No lungs to breathe or stomach to digest all the foods and popsicles they eat. There’s nothing beyond the incomprehensible black of a monster, wearing the face of a dead boy. And it’s as humiliating as it is anguishing as it is everything else. He shouldn’t be touching this. This thing. It isn’t human. It’s disgusting.
He’s disgusting.
MONSTER. FUCKED UP. DIE.
DIE.
DIE.
It’s his fault. Hikaru’s. ‘Hikaru’s’. Both of them, whole and separate. Hikaru for going and dying on him. ‘Hikaru’ for exposing the feelings that would have been better kept a secret if for nothing else than his own sanity. Why should he have to know this? That Hikaru liked boys too? That he may have liked him back so much that another being can hardly contain the emotions within him over it? ‘Hikaru’ has never been human before, and yet the yearning he’s feeling towards Yoshiki is a level that nearly renders him useless in the face of anything else. One track minded. Everything he never knew Hikaru was.
Everything he’ll never get to talk to him about.
Everything that doesn’t matter now because he’s DEAD.
DEAD.
DEAD.
When Yoshiki reaches up with his free hand to wrap it around ‘Hikaru’s’ throat, he thinks, if he’s going to lose it, they may as well be lost together. There’s no pulse point under his fingers, just a vacant heat beneath his palm as his other hand twists and curls and pulls. ‘Hikaru’ gasps at the treatment, and Yoshiki finds himself falling into the open pit, unable to look away, unable to disconnect his limbs. He moves closer, straddles ‘Hikaru’s’ thighs and gasps when his own hard-on presses down against the other’s. ‘Hikaru’ cries out too, nearly sobbing. And he’s babbling something, something Yoshiki can’t hear. Focus. Past the screaming, past the sirens–focus.
‘Hikaru’ says, “ Yoshiki…” as drool and blackness spills from the side of his lips, eyes nearly rolling back before focusing on him once more. He’s here. He’s present. “Ya wanna…put it in me?”
Yoshiki starts like he’s been jolted. The place where his arm disappears into that abyss has split further and down, parting ‘Hikaru’s’ belly and emanating cold. Yoshiki wants to feel it–more. Enough that it suffocates him. Enough that he doesn’t know where either of them begin or end. He’s so full of hatred and want and disgust that he’s drowning in it and can’t think to do anything else but drink it down as quickly as he can, but… If they were to get too mixed up, if he were to sink down into that cold wet and never resurface, they could be together forever.
No one can ever take him away again.
Yoshiki grips the other’s throat harder and says,
“I think…y’should have to beg fer me… S’only fair, yeah? Lookit what you’ve put me through…crybaby brat…Say please .”
“Please…!” ‘Hikaru’ says without missing a beat, wanton and so immediate that Yoshiki’s lip curls with startled disgust. “Please, Yoshiki–I wanna…want ya to feel good too. Y’liked it, right? Mixin’ with me…please–yer so warm, I want it…”
He can’t take this. Yoshiki’s fingers bite into ‘Hikaru’s pale flesh as he wrenches his arm free. It doesn’t come easily. The black follows him, that amalgam of everything that makes up the entity housed inside this corpse, unwilling to let go, tasting and flicking against his skin, pulling him in as ‘Hikaru’ whines and keens at the loss. It won’t be long. Yoshiki presses his thumb against ‘Hikaru’s’ lower lip and groans when it’s immediately sucked into the other’s mouth.
His shorts get chucked to the side without a second thought.
And then he’s staring at the precipice of no return. No coming back from this–this level of debauchery, taboo. If his friends found out–if his parents found out–they’d ship him off somewhere he’d never return from. But, maybe that isn’t right. ‘Hikaru’ would never let that happen.
Yoshiki presses the head of his cock down, teasing the seam where it splits just past ‘Hikaru’s’ navel, and the gasp he receives is all he needs in his entire life, he thinks. That sound. Twisted up in pleasure. It’s music. It’s everything to him. And as he thrusts his hips forward and that cold envelopes him, the tears threatening his eyes go ignored. No, he would have never had this with Hikaru–seeing him spread out and waiting, wanting on a bed for him. That was never in the cards for them. A fantasy that Yoshiki stroked himself to at night with grit teeth and shame. He’s ashamed now. He feels the way it pulls the blood from his fingertips and burns his ears. So fucking ashamed. But no one is here to judge him.
‘Hikaru’ says, “Oh god,” as he watches Yoshiki pressing inside of him, tossing his head back as he arches up into it.
Yoshiki returns his hand to the waiting cold, his other still wrapped and clenching that pale, perfect throat. It’s so overwhelming that for a moment he thinks he’s going to orgasm immediately, but no–he holds it off. Too many things at once buffeting his system. The black wraps around his cock, seeming to stroke him independent of his hips movements, and when Yoshiki looks up with lidded eyes, pupils blown out by lust and his lower lip bitten, the expression he finds there is not one Hikaru would have ever made either.
‘Hikaru’s’ eyes are glowing bright red, black and colorful ooze dripping from the corner of his right eye, from his mouth, his entire body trembling. He says, “Yoshiki, I…it’s so good…I can’t–m’havin’ trouble…holdin’ it…back.”
Yoshiki snaps his hips forward with intention, begins fucking into him in earnest. He feels the black seeping into him, tugging, filling his cock as if to not miss a single drop of what’s to come. He says, “I don’t care,” panting, groaning with a fervor as he leans down and crashes their lips together. The black teases his tongue as they mingle. “Just…let me breathe an’ ya can– fuck… Do it…”
‘Hikaru’ whines, licking desperately at Yoshiki’s lips as he attempts to meet the kiss. It’s sloppy, movements in between moans and needy bites but it only spurs Yoshiki on. He’s getting close–no way he lasts with all of this going on. Just seeing ‘Hikaru’s’ face like this has him drooling precome inside that seam as tears stream down his face.
“Y-Y’sure?” ‘Hikaru’ says, gasping, and when Yoshiki’s hand grabs onto that spot inside of him again, his eyes roll back as he groans. “Sorry–I can’t…ahhh Yoshiki I can’t…hold it…”
Yoshiki pulls on the thing within ‘Hikaru’s’ chest, leverages himself with it to fuck harder, chasing every high as the black seeps between their open mouths onto the bedding.
“Don’t hold back,” he says against the other’s lips. “C’mon, lemme feel ya…want it–want you.”
‘Hikaru’ stutters, stills. “Me? Or…”
“No. Not him .” Yoshiki lets go of ‘Hikaru’s’ neck, looks him deep in the eye and lets saliva drip off his tongue into the other’s waiting, open mouth. “ You .”
It all happens in a rush after that.
From ‘Hikaru’s’ eyes and his mouth, through the split in his belly and chest, the black erupts around them so quickly and entirely that Yoshiki is nearly disoriented by it. But then, it’s moving around him, wrapping him up, filling and gripping and pulling and Yoshiki is lost to it. His mouth is filled so deliciously as his eyes roll back, and he uses that grip on ‘Hikaru’s’ insides to anchor him. Within a moment, his vision is gone, blissed out by the overwhelming everywhere-ness of the entity in Hikaru’s body, but he doesn’t mind. He hears only the pulsing of that unknown form within and around him, hears ‘Hikaru’s’ moans as he gives himself up entirely to his instincts.
They move like that, a tangle of limbs and black, breathy pants and moans. Yoshiki feels the tendrils on his face, touching his tears, wiping them away as he’s taken over. Despite it all, he couldn’t stop his hips even if he wanted. And that thought causes a new rush of piercing shame through him–shame that lights him up from the inside out and somehow makes him even harder. It feels so good when it shouldn’t. Disgusting. He needs it. Wants more, and more, anything and everything ‘Hikaru’ can possibly give him, and maybe even more after that. He screams, he thinks, in that darkness, a mixture of pain and pleasure, a sob so violent it wracks his chest. And through it all, their pleasured voices twist and move around each other.
It feels good…it feels so good…
Yoshiki’s orgasm is upon him sooner than he’d like, but there’s no holding it back. He feels like he can hear ‘Hikaru’s’ voice inside his mind, and the slippery wetness only spurs him on. Before he can stop himself, he’s spilling, pulsing milk white inside of ‘Hikaru’, the spasms of his release jerking his hips and if he wasn’t swallowed by an eldritch being’s void, the volume of his pleasure would be enough to wake the neighborhood. It feels so good. So thoroughly good that his mind can’t keep up, and for a moment, Yoshiki feels himself white out from the pleasure of it all. He’s never felt anything so euphoric before. If this were the last thing he felt before he died, it’d be worth it. ‘Hikaru’ is worth it.
Yoshiki gasps as the black recedes, sitting up and pulling himself free only to see the fruits of his climax connecting the head of him to the black before it breaks. For a moment, he only catches his breath, heart racing a mile a minute as his body’s intrinsic fear catches up with his brain, his cheeks red and wet. And then, he looks at ‘Hikaru’ who seems like a mixture between terrified and sated. He says,
“Y’okay?” and moves off of him to flop onto his back, chest heaving.
‘Hikaru’ sits up, stares down at his crotch as his belly and chest knit themselves back together.
“Think I did it… S’wet in front.”
Yoshiki follows his line of sight, sees the dark patch in the front of ‘Hikaru’s’ shorts. He blows out a laugh. “Yeah. Guess yer really into that.”
“ Me ?” ‘Hikaru’ laughs, falls back down beside Yoshiki with a flushed grin. “Thought ya were gonna explode ‘cause y’liked it soo much.”
Yoshiki can’t help himself, he snorts, chuckles. “We both exploded , dumbass. S’what that is.”
“Ohh, right.” ‘Hikaru’ pauses for a moment, shuffles his feet at the edge of the bed and kicks a stray blanket off. “Did ya like it?” He turns his head, watching Yoshiki. The air from the night is blowing on them, still warm. It ruffles the bright hair on top of ‘Hikaru’s’ head. Yoshiki takes a deep breath, takes it all in. He may be disgusting, fucked up beyond redemption, a mistake, but…
As long as he can see that smile, he thinks, it can’t be that bad.
“Yeah,” he says, and licks his lips. “I did.”
“So we can do it again!?”
“Not right now!”
“Right!” ‘Hikaru’ laughs, really laughs from his belly, and Yoshiki can’t help but join him. “Guess that’s kinda obvious, huh?”
“Yer still learnin’.” Yoshiki reaches out, touches the other’s face. Warm skin, like always. “Hey, Hikaru?”
“Mm?” ‘Hikaru’ nuzzles his face into Yoshiki’s hand, closes his eyes.
Don’t leave me. Please stay here. Don’t go anywhere else. Never again. Always need ya by me, kay? Don’t go. No matter what. No matter who finds out. Don’t go. I can’t lose him again, I can’t take anythin’ else. Do ya get it? I need ya too. Is that okay? Will you stay? Will I get to…keep this?
Instead of any of that, Yoshiki says,
“Love ya.”
The smile brightens, better than anything he’s ever seen, and Yoshiki thinks it isn’t possible that this being is anything bad, or to be feared. It can’t be.
“Love ya, Yoshiki!”