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Shirou’s breathing has always been sweet, calming in a way. Gouenji knows it better than anyone else. Seeing from where they come, it’s no wonder Shirou still approaches him for healing . It has been more than ten years since they started doing this routine and, somehow, right now, it just feels right .
When they were teenagers, Shuuya seemed unexperienced —of course, he is still good with words of encouragement, but precisely, conveying that into actions wasn’t his forte. Shirou always came for him back then, and Gouenji reached for him with no hesitation whatsoever. They held each other in an embrace during cold nights—Shirou held onto Gouenji for dear life during storms, and Gouenji held him close to his heart to hear how steadily it was beating, for him and only for him.
Regardless, now feels different. Maybe it’s because Shuuya still remembers abandoning him once, breaking the boy apart and not considering staying by his side; maybe he feels he should make up for it in a way. But Shirou—Shirou has always been kind enough to not bring that up. To thank Gouenji for triggering the realization in him and Gouenji wonders just why—just why Shirou doesn’t hate him.
Gouenji tightens his arms around the slightly smaller boy, feeling like he doesn’t deserve this kind of moments and Shirou notices his hesitation. The boy leans his head closer into his chest and is sure to tighten too his arms around Gouenji’s torso. Gouenji smiles, a tiny curve on his lips that only Shirou could be the witness of, but still feels undeserving of this,
“You’re being unreasonable today” Shirou speaks, soft and faint on his arms. “Is something on your mind?”
Gouenji gets his words caught in his mouth, not knowing what should he say. “Why do you ask?” is what he says back, his voice trembling.
“You are-” Shirou pauses and suddenly gets up from Gouenji’s chest. Now he is looking straight into his eyes, no fear and hesitation on his eyes. They are muted green filled with determination and Gouenji wonders, once more, when did Shirou become the one to look him like this in the eye, “You are trembling” he says. Gouenji unwraps his arm out of Shirou’s waist and sits back up into his eyes’ level.
“Am I?” he says, gaze directing towards his hand. Maybe it is the lack of self awareness, but he can’t possibly see how he is trembling.
“Yeah,” Shirou says again, soft and tender, as if he’s trying to caress Gouenji with every one of his words. Gouenji knows he is undeserving of this treatment after what he has done to him though, “you seem afraid of me today”
“That’s- That’s not it” Shuuya is quick to say. Maybe he is.
“No, it’s fine, Gouenji. If you can’t say what you’re feeling, at least let me help. Like you’ve done all my life. I want to-” Shirou tries to say something, yet he is the one averting his gaze in hesitation now. Gouenji almost laughs at how awkward they have become. “I want to be there for you, always”
The mere sentence triggers something inside Gouenji. He smiles, fondly and melancholically, but he doesn’t remember starting to cry until Shirou is wiping away tears rolling down his cheeks with his thumb.
He feels so undeserving—
“Do you?”
“Genuinely” Fubuki cups his face between both his hands, warmer than usually. Shuuya feels, just by that, how dear he is to Shirou. And for that—for that he is grateful.
“Don’t you feel… resentment? Towards me?” Gouenji lets out. He takes one, two, three seconds until he is looking into Shirou’s eyes again, and it shocks him when he is met with a dumbfounded expression. Shirou doesn’t look hurt, doensn’t look like he is able to let all out on Shuuya, he just seems confused.
“Why should I?” he asks, dropping his hands over one of Shuuya’s and lacing their fingers togehter, as if he ever let go, he wouldn’t be able to reach Gouenji again.
“I haven’t been enough for you” he lets out in a whisper, almost missing the chance to say it. “I’ve let go of you more times than I should. There’re times I should have been there and I wasn’t. I—I have done terrible things to you that I regret”
“Is that what you have been thinking all this time?” Shirou asks. Gouenji just nods.
It takes them some seconds to react again. When they do, Fubuki is the first to act. He tightens his grip on Gouenji’s hand ever so slightly, not wanting to ever let go. And then he smiles—he smiles his warm, soft smile that Gouenji has always feel welcomed looking at.
“Shuuya,” he speaks his name and Gouenji almost melts, “you’ve been the one to help me the most throughout my whole life. Really” Gouenji purses his lips, not wanting to cry again. “You were there for me when I was a teen; you were the one to help me out of my trauma. You were my realization. I have always been indebted to you since we were young”
“But—” he starts, hesitating and afraid of Shirou realizing he has been wrong all this time and Gouenji is actually a bad person, “I got you fired. I—I ruined your career, the thing you loved the most, just out of spite”
Fubuki shakes his head and smiles once more, ever so lovingly that Gouenji could melt right there,
“No, you didn’t” he says firm and sure. “You were doing what you needed to do to help us again as you always do. Heck, Shuuya, you are a hero . Your means to help were always good willed, Shuuya, even though they could be morally lacking, But you sacrificed your convictions for us—for everyone. You are a hero”
The word warms Gouenji’s heart and he wipes a tear threatening to roll down his cheek with his shoulder, not wanting to ever let go of Shirou’s grip.
“God, I’m sorry for ruining our time together” Shirou toughens his expression, frowning at the words.
“Shuuya, I’d rather use my time with you to talk about everything you need to vent than just hug”
“Thank you” he mouthes and Shirou takes the both of them to lay down over Gouenji’s king sized bed again.
“You’ve grown a lot, Shuuya” he says, out of nowhere, as he interwines his free hand in some of Gouenji’s locks. He combs Gouenji’s hair with his fingers and Gouenji leans closer to the touch, almost like a dog.
“And so have you”
“No, but— What I mean is…” Fubuki starts, trying to find the right words. “You’ve matured. You barely talked about yourself when we were younger. Believe me when I say this, thank you for opening up to me”
Gouenji nibbles on his lower lip ever so slightly and he can’t help but pull Shirou into his arms. Shirou leans closer into the hug, pressing his face between Gouenji’s neck and shoulder—he has always loved how warm Gouenji’s body feels.
“I know insecurities can’t go away just like that, but, Shuuya,” he speaks, leaving Gouenji’s shoulder and looking him in the eye, face so close he can almost feels Gouenji’s breath on him, “you’ve always been more than enough for me” Gouenji’s arms tighten around him and Shirou knows, by his contorted face, this is what they need right now.
He kisses Gouenji ever so softly—no ill intentios, no looking for anything else more than the contact and the warmness of Gouenji’s lips on him. Gouenji reciprocrates by pulling Shirou impossibly closer to his body, to feel aware of this reality—to know that what is happening right now is real, and Shirou is there, and Shirou loves him.
Shirou loves him.
Right. It has always been like that.
“Do you feel better?” Shirou asks, breaking the kiss but not getting far from Gouenji’s face.
“I was supposed to say that. Sorry for turning today into me”
“Do you feel better?” he repeats, not ignoring what Gouenji has said but deciding to, indeed, make it about him. For Fubuki, it has always been about Gouenji Shuuya.
“Yeah,” he barely speaks. Shirou gives him a quick peck on the lips before letting him continue, “thank you for being here. Just—for being here despite all these years”
“Shuuya” Shirou calls.
“Hm?”
“I love you” Gouenji feels his eyes watery and his arms wobbly, but it doesn’t flinch him away from hugging Shirou lovingly.
“I love you too, Shirou” he says, with a soft peck on Shirou’s hair.