Archive of Our Own

 Kei’s arrival back home to their apartment is marked only by the quiet turning of a key in a lock and the few muffled footsteps of his worn leather shoes in the entryway before he switches them out for soft slippers, but it’s enough to have Tadashi shaking his head like a dog to clear his mind and rolling himself out of bed to greet him. It’s been a few hours since he last moved, his limbs creaking as he disrupts the nest of blankets he’s been stewing in for the majority of the day, his eyes skating over the small mess he leaves in his wake before heading out into the hallway to meet his roommate. 

“Welcome home, Tsukki. How was your day?” is the first thing he asks, the ritualized initiant of their nighttime routine, and it earns him a tired but genuine smile. 

“It was okay. More layoffs today, but I’m still safe. You?” Kei looks tired, more tired than he should be at his age, but Tadashi can’t blame him. The current economic slump in Japan has been hitting the museum he works at hard, and as one of the youngest hires he’s been having to run himself ragged just to keep his place. Tadashi understands that there’s no way around it, but he wishes there was some way for him to ease his friend’s burden. He steps forward, waiting for Kei to hang up his coat and scarf before taking one of the blankets he’s wearing like a shawl and draping it across Kei’s shoulders, awkwardly offering him a little bit of his indirect body heat to ward off the chill of winter that’s followed him inside. 

“Okay,” he says, stepping back quickly to move towards the nearby couch. “Remote work is sort of bullshit, but at least I figured out how to get my fan to move my mouse around all day so my boss won’t catch me napping again.” 

“Not bad,” Kei says, and joins him down on the worn piece of furniture. He sinks back into the cushions with his eyes closed, his hands pulling the blanket Tadashi’s given him tight around his torso, wiggling down into it so that it partially covers the back of his head, making him look like someone’s grandmother. Tadashi nudges him with his foot, not wanting the blonde to fall asleep just yet. 

“Go put on pajamas. I’ll make dinner. Anything you’re in the mood for?” 

“Not hungry.”

“You need to eat, Tsukki,” Tadashi chides quietly, trying to keep the worry from his voice. Kei still picks up on it, though, of course, and shoots him a wry smile. 

“Whatever you want. I think we’re low on groceries, though.” 

“Yeah…” Tadashi says, mentally cataloguing what’s left in their fridge and trying to do the mental math for how long they’ll have to stretch it before either of them gets paid next. 

“Yamaguchi… Did you go outside today?” Kei asks, the overt gentleness in his voice breaking Tadashi’s concentration. Apparently it's his turn to worry and pretend like that’s not what he’s doing. 

“The balcony,” Tadashi lies, hoping to get away with saying as little as possible. Kei watches him for a minute, clearly not convinced, but eventually sighs and lets the subject drop. 

“I think we have enough for some fried rice. If you get it started, I’ll come help in a minute.” 

“Okay, Tsukki,” Tadashi responds with a nod, and watches as the blonde gets up with an exhausted groan to go to his room. 

They have yet to explicitly say what they’ve both been thinking for a while now, but at this point in their relationship they don’t really have to. Tadashi can nearly see the question that repeats in Kei’s head every time they’re together, the word ‘agoraphobia?’ practically scrolling through his ochre eyes when he looks at Tadashi, and he knows he’s not any better. Kei’s always been a fussy eater, but the added stress of the last few months has only intensified that habit. It’s gotten to the point where Tadashi’s started consulting the internet in his spare time, looking for answers on how to help someone who might be developing an eating disorder. In theory, it should be easy for both of them to kick these habits. Neither one of them wants to be worrying the other, he knows he sure as hell wishes he could take a step out their front door, if only to ease some of the tension that’s embedded itself in the curve of Kei’s shoulders, but he can’t. He’s sure it's the same for Kei. In fact, he knows it is. Kei always does his best to eat what Tadashi cooks for him, but there’s always a limit. 

In truth, since graduating college, life for both of them has been nothing but limits. Limited job opportunities, limited starting salaries, limited housing options. Their two bedroom apartment is shabby but serviceable, though it’s fallen to its knees under the intensity of this year’s winter more than a few times, their heat spluttering out periodically and leaving them huddled together on their couch for whole nights, waiting for the sun to rise so that they can contact management without incurring the wrath of their touchy landlord. All in all, though, it’s more than many can say they have nowadays, and the fact that they can still afford it even in the current economic climate means a lot. Yeah, Kei’s failure to secure the promotion they’d been expecting and Tadashi’s transition from a full time office employee to a part time remote worker has made it so that they have a lot less money now for things they used to indulge in without so much as a second thought, but that’s okay. Fewer groceries, cheaper products, those have been simple concessions to stay where they are and not have to admit defeat and move back home; it’s just too bad that simpler doesn’t always mean easy. 

The winter’s ushering in of the recession has made leaving their apartment hard, and the lack of interesting anything in their fridge has made eating a chore, so in their own ways they’ve both been struggling. Tadashi can’t shake the irrational feeling that he’s constantly physically holding down the fort, that by staying inside he’s keeping everything in the balance, keeping the apartment warm even with the heat fails, keeping their space theirs so that when Kei comes home there’ll still be something to come home to. He doesn’t know exactly why Kei’s stopped eating, beyond the excusatory “I’m tired, I’m anxious, I don’t have an appetite right now,” but he can imagine it’s something just as involuntary. They support each other the best they can. What else is there to do? At the very least, they have each other. They’ve always had each other, always been best friends, and as long as Tadashi has Kei, he knows he’ll be alright. 

Friends. Some part of his subconscious repeats the word with a displeasured hiss, making him wince. He shakes himself hard to clear his mind. Kei’s right, he really should try to go outside. All this isolation has been fucking with him lately, the intrusive thoughts in his head getting… louder.

Tadashi tries to ignore it as he moves around the kitchen methodically, pulling out the ingredients he’ll need for tonight’s dinner and mindlessly starting the cooking process as he lets his mind wander. By the time Kei emerges from his room in a ratty pair of sweatpants with Tadashi’s blanket still draped around his arms, the food is almost done. 

“Wash your hands,” Tadashi reminds him, and rolls his eyes when Kei chuckles at his motherly tone. 

“You know that woman I work with that I told you about last week, Hirota-san?” 

Tadashi cocks his head, watching the blonde run his hands beneath the faucet as he tries to recall the conversation. “That boss lady?” he says finally, placing the name. 

“Yeah. I mean, sorta. I don’t report directly to her, but - well, anyway, that doesn’t matter. She asked me out.” 

Tadashi almost drops the bowl he’s holding. 

“Oh?” he asks, lilting his voice to try to sound interested, but for some reason he’s having a hard time looking up to meet the other man’s gaze. Kei doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Yeah. I don’t think I can say no.” 

“I thought you didn’t report to her directly?”

“I don’t but she’s like... my boss’s boss, I guess. So it’d be awkward.” 

“You could tell her you’re too broke to go out,” Tadashi tries to joke. 

“I did, she just said she’d pay. She’s pushy.” He huffs a breath, sounding annoyed. Tadashi finally turns to hand him the filled bowl, adding a fried egg overtop of the rice in the hopes that the added protein will coax the blonde into actually finishing the meal this time. 

“How old is she?” he asks, noting the grimace the question earns him from the blonde. 

“I dunno, thirties. We’ll see. It’s next Friday, and I think once she realizes how actually chronically antisocial I am she’ll give up and leave me alone. Fingers crossed.” 

“Yeah, fingers crossed…” Tadashi mimics, grabbing his own bowl and following Kei out to the living room so that they can settle down at the broken kotatsu in front of the TV. They fall into a comfortable silence as Kei starts to flick through the channels, though Tadashi can’t help but watch him from the corner of his eye as he tucks into his food. He wants to keep talking about the boss date thing, but the subject’s been dropped and there’s no way of bringing it back up without Kei cluing into how bothered he is, and given the fact that he can’t fully admit to himself why he’s so bothered, he’s clearly not ready for that conversation so he doesn’t broach it. That doesn’t stop him from spending the rest of the night anxiously pondering the consequences that might arise from his roommate going on a single date with a coworker, though. 

*     *     *

By the time Friday rolls around, he thinks he has it all figured out. Kei’s his best friend so of course he’d be worried about him and the things happening in his life, that much is obvious. Recently, though, he’s also become Tadashi’s biggest point of contact with the rest of the world, which means it makes sense that Tadashi would rear his head somewhat at the thought of him going away in any capacity. Not that Kei going on a date means he’s leaving, though! Not at all. In fact, he’s shown nothing but distaste for the impending dinner appointment with his boss’s boss in the days leading to it, so when he’d left that morning with a sigh and a “wish me luck,” Tadashi had been able to smile and see him off. 

The surety he’d felt in that moment has worn off somewhat, but he’s still confident that whatever’s happening on the sham of a date Kei’s on right now will have very little impact on their day to day lives. That doesn’t stop him from curling up on the couch and waiting for his return, though. In the quiet of their empty apartment, Tadashi lets his mind reach for that sleepy, numb place he likes to go to when he’s alone. His thoughts go muzzy, but he can’t fully reach that satisfying state of peaceful dissociation and instead his mind starts to wander, memories from a few weeks ago surfacing just enough to keep him consciously trapped in his head. 

The last time their heater went out was nearly a month ago, and they’d spent the better part of a weekend curled around each other on this very couch. It had been… kind of nice, despite also objectively being a complete and utter nightmare. It hadn’t been the first time it’d happened, though, so they’d been more practiced in their methods of coping. They hadn’t dithered around awkwardly, waiting for someone to make the first move, and had instead just folded themselves together without question, Tadashi’s legs in Kei’s lap with the blonde’s arms around his back, the two of them leaning in close to share body heat and warm breath beneath the blankets they piled on top of themselves. They’d talked, low, almost secretively, between them, joked about the past and about their own current circumstances. Kei had been in an uncharacteristically good mood, despite the situation, and had run his cool fingers over Tadashi’s warm skin, not so sneakily siphoning off his body heat despite Tadashi’s joking complaints. Beneath their nest of comforters, barriers that they’d held for nearly two decades fell without warning, leaving them skin to skin in a way Tadashi so very rarely experienced nowadays. In fact, Kei’s the only person who’s touched him at all in the last year, and they hardly ever touch. Be it the result of a whole lifetime of being stuck together or just simply the outcome of putting two nervous introverts in a room, they really hardly ever touch - not even to hug or shake hands or any of the other normal ways people fulfill their needs for physical contact in the real world. So it had been… special, being held like that. Special to feel like he could touch and be touched without needing so much as a word of excuse in order to do so. It had filled a gaping hole in Tadashi’s chest that he’s only recently become aware of, a huge wound of missing something inside of him that aches now that he’s had a taste of the cure.

His mind goes to the date his friend’s currently on and tries not to succumb to the anxiety that image brings with it. He’ll leave you, he’ll fall in love and leave you, he’ll move out, he won’t hold you anymore, he’ll never touch you again, you’re going to be alone. 

He shakes himself. He’s not as weak as that. His relationship with Kei is a foundational part of both of their lives, and nothing, not even a conniving older woman, can change that. Idly, he runs his hand down his chest beneath his shirt, following the bumps of his sternum and ribs down to the flat, soft plane of his stomach. He sucks in, feeling the concave indent the action creates. He probably should be eating more too. 

Postpartum , some voice in his head whispers before he stops himself quickly and thinks, God, stop it. You’re so fucking creepy . It’s those intrusive thoughts inside his head again, the ones that make him feel like he’s coming unhinged. 

It’s these kinds of hideous notions he’s been avoiding ever since the last heat mishap. The hole in his chest must’ve been there for a lot longer than he’d realized, if his brain is already this intent on perverting his relationship with his best friend simply because his close physical proximity to the blonde made him feel better that one time. There’s nothing missing from him just because they’re not touching, the separation from the other man nothing that could be likened to whatever developing depression after giving birth might feel like. Not at all. So why can’t his brain just believe that?

“Shut up, shut up, shut up ,” he groans to himself, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes and curling in on himself, trying to bat away the fantasies he can feel creeping up around him from all sides. It’s too late though, he’s already thinking about them. He imagines it’d be nice, having Kei living inside him. Maybe in his throat, to replace the lump that feels permanently stuck there, or under the soft skin at the crook of his neck so he could always be on Tadashi’s shoulder. Maybe in his abdomen like a real baby, though Tadashi can’t stand the thought of birth. It sounds painful and gross, not to mention physically impossible, and it’s not what he really wants, anyway. He wants permanence. He wants to provide. Kei’d be best just under his skin, he decides, every part of him sleeping just an inch below Tadashi, not uncomfortable or cramped but just warm and cared for, taking all that he needs from Tadashi’s body and giving nothing back. An accepted parasite for a loving host. Weird! Weird! So fucking weird! He thinks, jolting upright, panicking.

He pulls at his blankets and starts to gather them nervously, hoping that the monotony of the action will help yank him back to reality. He takes his time, arranging them precisely so that the softer fabrics make up the innermost layers. Cotton inside, wool outside. Fleece inside, sheet inside, whatever the fuck this is outside . Cotton blend-

The sudden clacking of his neighbor’s heels on the floor above his head makes him wince, and only serves to remind him of the woman Kei’s currently having dinner with. He wonders if she’s beautiful, if she’s soft with unblemished skin free of the freckles and acne scars his sports. She wonders if she’s wearing high heels too, if she’s paired them with some obscenely short skirt to show off her legs, if Kei finds any of that attractive. He knows that this is, essentially, a part of the job for the blonde at this point. That he couldn’t have turned her down without putting his position at least somewhat at risk. He knows that he’s partially to blame for his best friend’s sudden nightmare of a work life, that he’s being forced to work three times as hard as his coworkers to support the two of them, but that doesn’t stop the tiny illogical part of his brain from feeling a little resentful. A little neglected. What kind of quality of life comes with waiting around for a friend to come home from work every day only to have a few hours with the guy, at least half of which is spent silently fighting back a barrage of sick fantasies these days. Tadashi knows he’s pathetic, knows he's a burden and growing more fucked in the head every day, but he can’t help feeling alone too, and like maybe he doesn’t exist when Kei isn’t around. And feeling that makes him feel guilty, cause, really, isn’t he relying on Kei a little too much? But no matter what, his life still undeniably starts, stops, and starts again to the rhythm of Kei’s comings and goings from their home. Hours slide into days which slide into weeks, and Tadashi can hardly remember what he does when Kei isn’t around, yet every time he thinks he’s faded away for sure, the blonde gets home just in time to reawaken those thoughts, just in time to drown Tadashi in another Technicolor flood of fucked up daydreams, just in time to choke him back to reality.

“You look warm.” 

Tadashi jumps. He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t even heard Kei come in. 

“Tsukki! How was your date?” Tadashi scrambles to his feet, the careful arrangement of his blankets falling to the wayside as he trips on his way over to the door. The blonde doesn’t respond, his form hidden in the shadows of the entryway where the overhead light has long since flickered out. It takes until Tadashi gets a little closer that he sees the state his friend is in. 

Upon first inspection, Kei looks… awful. He’s slumped against the door, leaning sideways with his shoulder pressed against the adjacent wall, his head hung and clothes rumpled, a smear of something red staining the collar of his white button up. Tadashi’s eyes widen, fear rocketing up his spine as he steps forward swiftly to catch his roommate just as he begins to tip forward. 

“Holy shit - holy shit, Tsukki. What… what happened?” 

“Urgh,” is all Kei says in response, his eyes closing as he leans his full weight against the smaller man. Tadashi looks around them wildly, trying to figure out what to do. He could drag him to the bathroom and try to clean him up, but he’s afraid that Kei might lose consciousness, and even as thin as he is he’s still nearly a foot taller than Tadashi and there’s no guarantee he’d be able to support him if that happened. He chooses instead to move back to the couch, doing his best to be gentle as he dumps the blonde down onto the cushions before running to the kitchen to grab a bucket. He drops it next to Kei’s feet, using his body to hold him up as he rubs his back and tries to get a better look at his face. 

“Tsukki…” he says, but he doesn’t know where to start. His brain’s short circuiting at the visual of his best friend who’s usually so stoic and controlled looking like he’s just gone several rounds with a professional boxer. The change in lighting helps highlight some of the bruises starting to rise to the surface of the blonde’s pale skin, an angry purple splotch blooming across the right side of his jaw and what looks like the imprint of a large hand circling his neck, almost like a collar. He has to swallow hard several times, his mouth going so dry that he feels like he might gag first if Kei doesn’t. Worse than all of that, though, is the vacant look in his best friend’s eyes, their golden depths unusually dark and shallow, like he’s not all there. “Tsukki, did you get in a fight?” 

“Your hairs getting long,” Kei whispers back, a clumsy hand coming up to run shaking fingers through the ends of Tadashi’s shaggy locks. 

“I - I guess,” Tadashi responds. He’s never seen Kei this out of it, not even when they used to get drunk together back in high school, back when they still had access to their parents’ bank accounts and could convince Akiteru to buy the booze for them so long as he was allowed to keep the change. “Tsukki, what were you and Hirota-san drinking tonight?” 

“Only had a - a beer -” Kei slurs, his voice sleepy as he leans further into Tadashi’s side, his head dropping to thunk on his shoulder. 

“Oh, God…” Tadashi says, the implications of the blonde’s words sinking in. “Okay, Tsukki, I think we need to take you to the hospital. I think we should -” 

“Don’t wanna.” Kei picks up his head and drops it again, a little harder this time. 

“Tsukki…” Tadashi tries again, aware of how stubborn Kei can be when he wants to be. “Can you tell me what happened, at least?” 

Kei huffs. “Gonna be mad at me,” he mumbles eventually. 

“I promise I won’t be,” Tadashi responds back quickly, trying his best to keep his voice calm even as his blood turns to ice at the childish hesitation. 

“She said she’d pay me.”

“Pay you? For what?” 

“I thought I - she knows we’re hard up for cash - but - I swear I only had one… one beer. But I… ugh, I don’t feel so good.” 

Tadashi gulps. He’s pretty sure he knows what this is, and if it is what he thinks it is, then he really needs to figure out what happened before he decides what to do next. “That’s okay, Tsukki. Just tell me what you guys did after you started to feel… bad.” 

“I dunno - she said a lot, I thought - it seemed like a good idea. We need the money. But then, in the alley, some guy - he punched me - they took my wallet. There wasn’t even anything in there, hah…” 

“They knew each other?” Tadashi repeats, his mind racing as he tries to put together the pieces. 

“I guess. He seemed mad at her,” he says, and then blinks owlishly before adding, “and me, I guess.” 

He looks back down at the blonde, gently prying him off his shoulder so that he can inspect his face again. The bruise is bad, and will probably only get worse if they don’t get some ice on it soon. “Did he hurt you?” he asks, more as a way to keep the blonde awake and engaged while he tries to figure out what to do than as an actual question. 

“I’m sorry, Yamaguchi,” Kei says. 

Tadashi only has enough time to say “huh?” before Kei is leaning over into his lap and letting out a choked sound, a torrent of blood streaming out of his mouth as he hacks and coughs. Without thinking, Tadashi drops the bucket and uses his free hand to grab the back of the blonde’s shirt, holding him up while his other hand comes around to cup beneath his mouth, trying and failing to stem the flow of blood and saliva that’s still drooling out from between his parted lips. He feels something small and hard fall into the palm of his hand. 

“Think that’s it,” Kei gurgles, leaning back up to give Tadashi a dreamy looking smile. “Not s’bad.” 

Tadashi looks down, shock striking him dumb as he stares at the cracked and bloodied tooth he’s holding. “Okay,” he says with a shaky voice, barely managing to keep himself together, “we’re going to the hospital now.” 

“Don’t feel like it. Don’t think you - you can.” 

Tadashi gives him a pleading look that Kei doesn’t seem to register, blood still pooling in his mouth from the wound the now missing molar has left in the far back of his mouth. He spits the excess into the bucket. Tadashi just blinks at the crude gesture, and then down at the sorry state of his pajama pants. “Not up for negotiation, Tsukki. I’m gonna go get changed and then we’ll go. Try to stay awake, okay?” 

“Hm,” Kei grunts, and slumps back when Tadashi gets up. By the time he returns to the living room, the blonde is completely passed out. Tadashi stands in front of him, staring down at his sleeping form, his limbs all curled around himself as he nuzzles down into the worn cushions of the couch. He really should insist that Kei get up and go to the hospital, but they don’t have a car, and it’s the middle of the night, and… and doing so would mean Tadashi would have to leave , which he just… he can’t. He could call an ambulance, but it’s been so long since he’s seen another person, and what if they ask him to come with? What if they think he’s suspicious? What if they call the cops and arrest him? What if, what if, what if -

He sinks down to the floor with a quiet sob, his still blood-stained hands coming up to stifle the sound. He’s fucking pathetic. He can’t even get himself together enough to save his oldest friend in the world, can’t get over himself long enough to even do the basic decent thing and take him to the hospital. He’s fucking broken . When did it get this bad? 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Kei mumbles from the couch, his eyes still closed. 

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Tadashi whispers back, and takes a deep breath to gather himself before standing back up and going to the kitchen to get a bag of frozen vegetables. For now, this is the least he can do, and tomorrow, after Kei’s slept off the worst of whatever that awful bitch slipped him, hopefully they’ll be able to tackle any next steps together. It feels like admitting failure, but it’s the best he can do. He kneels on the floor next to the couch and lets his eyes close, ready to stand vigil the rest of the night. He doesn’t let himself sleep, opting instead to let the panic swirling in his stomach keep him teetering on the knife’s edge of his sanity as he waits for the sun to rise. 

*     *     *

The next morning Kei takes himself to the hospital. They say very little, the blonde holding his head in his hands as Tadashi calls him a taxi and sees him off. Thankfully, he’s kind enough not to mention the way Tadashi skirts around offering to go with him, instead thanking him for the headache medicine he offers him at the door with an exhausted smile that’s so much more than Tadashi deserves. 

Then he leaves, and Tadashi’s left to once again await his return. 

He’s not sure what he expected, but being left alone after such a horrible night feels worse than he imagined. He has to force himself to retreat to his room, has to manually remind himself to breathe as he tries to ward off the creeping panic attack that he can feel threatening to tear him apart at the seams. It feels like he’s reliving the night before, like he’s back on the couch waiting for Kei to come home bruised and bloodied, only this time he’s not as sure about his friend’s return. There’s no guarantee that Kei isn’t sick of him, of his inability to take action, of his helplessness in the face of something as simple as leaving the house . He rocks himself back and forth on his threadbare mattress until, hours later, he hears the click of the lock opening once again. 

“Tsukki!” He rushes from his room like a bat out of hell, tripping over himself in his haste to see the blonde. 

“I’m fine,” Kei responds back tiredly, answering all the unsaid questions hovering on the tip of Tadashi’s tongue. “Doctor said it was rohypnol, but not too much and I remember enough to know nothing too bad happened, other than getting mugged. I had to talk to a few police officers and file a report, but apparently it might’ve been a part of a larger scam that some group’s been running in the area. I’ll probably have to tell work about it, too, but that can wait. For now, I’m fine. Other than my tooth.”

“Tooth…” Tadashi parrots dumbly, his mind racing as he tries to comprehend everything he’s just been told. 

“Right here,” Kei says, holding up a little plastic tube. He rattles it to prove its contents, but something about the sound makes Tadashi’s heart jump. “They couldn’t put it back in, it got damaged and I waited too long. So I guess until I can afford a fake, this’ll just be what I look like from now on.” He smiles wide, making Tadashi laugh weakly with relief when he sees that his smile hasn’t actually changed. Kei rolls his eyes, but looks a little relieved himself. “Yeah, it was one of the way back ones, so you can’t see it unless I do this.” He pulls back the corner of his mouth and takes a few steps closer, leaning down to let Tadashi look directly into his mouth. When he does, he spots the little sutured wound. He’s definitely missing a tooth, but all in all it could’ve been worse, and the bloodied little crater is kind of fascinating in its own way. The inside of Kei’s mouth as a whole is kind of fascinating, actually. He watches as the blonde swallows awkwardly with his mouth still open, eyes fixed on the pink muscles far in the back of his throat as they contract to complete the motion, and feels himself grow somewhat inexplicably hot. Eventually, though, Kei decides Tadashi’s looked enough and lets his hand drop as he steps away. It’s sort of disappointing, which is a feeling that Tadashi immediately tries to shake from his mind. 

“After a lifetime of being so proud that you’ve never had a cavity, this happens,” Tadashi says, speaking just to say something, to get rid of the buzzing feeling of inappropriate interest he can feel bubbling up in his chest, but stopping when he realizes it might’ve been insensitive. “I mean - sorry, Tsukki! I didn’t mean -” 

Kei just snorts dryly. “Yeah, you’re right. Even after all those strawberry candies you used to feed me back in high school, this is how I fucking lose a tooth. Lame.” 

“Not lame, Tsukki. It’s… kinda cool, actually. You lost a fight. That’s… macho, right?” Tadashi says with a shrug, holding back his smile as he waits for Kei’s own to crack. 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Kei responds with a more genuine laugh, his mouth curving up. “Here, a souvenir.” He tosses the plastic tube at the brunette, making him fumble to catch it. “For helping me out last night. Thanks.” 

“Gross, I don’t want your tooth,” Tadashi says automatically, but pulls it closer to him when Kei tries to swipe it back.

Kei rolls his eyes again. “Just throw it out then, or toss it at that noisy neighbor’s dog, I don’t care. I’m gonna go take a nap.” 

“Cool,” Tadashi says, before quickly following it up with, “don’t forget to keep ice on your face! To keep it from swelling!” 

Kei makes a ‘yeah, yeah’ gesture with his hands as he walks into the kitchen to grab an ice pack before heading to his room and closing the door behind him with a definitive thud. He waits several seconds, and then moves towards his own room, clutching to his chest the little piece of Kei that he’s just won himself. Once in the safety of his own space, he pops open the lid of the tube he’s holding and shakes the tooth out into the palm of his hand, staring at it fixedly as he tries to parse out why having it feels like such a win, why having it gifted to him by Kei had felt so intimate. It takes some time before he realizes he’s smiling, though ‘grinning maniacally’ would probably be a better descriptor for the expression stretched across his face. He puts the tooth back in the tube for safekeeping and forces himself to put it down on his desk, separating himself from it until he’s got a better grasp on what’s going on in his own mind. Whatever it is, it’s slowly dulling the ache of the ever-present hole in his chest that only seems to heal in the presence of his childhood friend. That alone is reason enough not to disregard this opportunity. 

*     *     *

Tadashi waits until after dinner to make his move. It’s only been a few hours and he should probably wait longer, he knows that, but he can’t help himself. The fact that he hasn’t slept a wink in the last forty-eight hours probably doesn’t help matters, but, again, he can’t help himself. Kei conveniently gives himself an early bedtime, citing fatigue from the hospital visit that morning as his reason for skipping out halfway through their meal, and for the first time in a long time Tadashi doesn’t hassle him about it. He waits until the door of the blonde’s bedroom closes behind him before scurrying back to his own to grab the plastic vile and bring it with him to the bathroom. He waits until after he’s triple checked that the door is locked to shake out the tooth into his hand, cradling it to his chest. The act makes him wince with self consciousness, but he pushes that hint of rationality out of his mind in favor of continuing to act on instinct, to follow what feels right. 

He can feel it in his bones - that this is the right choice. That this is going to help . He looks at himself in the mirror briefly, admiring the smile that’s plastered itself across his face, baring more teeth than he even knew he had. They look sharp and bright, his eyes wide and alive. He’s never been this happy, never. He doesn’t even have to think about what he’s doing, it just feels natural, like this is what his whole life has been leading up to, this one perfect moment that’ll start the new and better half of his so far pretty shit existence. No more being a burden, no more failing Kei when he’s in trouble, no more not going outside. He pulls a razor out of the drawer where he keeps his toiletries and takes only a moment to appreciate its edge before positioning it on his chest and decisively cutting a short but deep slice into the skin there. He presses a towel to the wound mechanically, careful not to get blood on the countertop, before looking at himself in the mirror again. His smile grows impossibly as he realizes he can’t feel a thing . That’s proof, proof that this is what he’s meant to be doing. That this is what will cure the hole in his chest that’s only grown since the date incident. He’s doing this to get better , he tells himself, and then with the excitement of a child gets to work on finishing the job, digging down vertically to separate the skin from the muscle below, placing the tooth inside, and finishing it off with a bit of dental floss and a heavy duty sewing needle he’d been lucky enough to find in their pantry. When the bleeding finally subsides he admires the small bump his new accessory makes, reveling in the way the skin looks stretched ever so slightly over the new sacred spot. This is good, this is right, this is what he was meant to do. This will help.

What exactly led him to this conclusion, he couldn’t say. Some combination of his building instability and his feelings of failure at having been unable to do more, his overwhelming separation anxiety and the need to no longer be a burden all playing a part in the decision. Probably his lack of sleep too. But no matter the why, as he shuts off the lights of the bathroom with a definitive click and lets himself back into his bedroom, he knows he’s not crazy, that what he did wasn’t a wrong decision. 

*     *     *

The dead of winter hits fast and hard. It’s cold outside, colder than it ever gets back home, and yet the air never feels any cleaner or crisper. The sky is perpetually red at this time in the season, illuminated in a sickly kind of way even when it’s the middle of the night.

It’s been, what? A week? Maybe two? Maybe longer since his little operation. Truthfully, he’s been having a harder and harder time keeping track of the days. Tadashi leans back against the sliding glass door behind him, gripping the railing of their shitty apartment’s shitty balcony with both hands. He lets his exposed arms tense under the unforgiving winds that chase each other ceaselessly and sharpen themselves against the jagged edges of the buildings that surround him, looming and overlapping til all that's left to look at is the framed red sky above. It doesn’t feel good, necessarily, but there’s something thrilling about being able to endure the pain. He’s outside for the first time in forever, and that alone is an accomplishment. He reaches up to touch the tiny lump on his chest, a subtle gesture that reminds him of the way his mother used to touch her rosary. He gets it now, understands her. Healing with the help of a totem is indisputably a religious experience. 

“Yamaguchi, you home?” Kei’s voice searches for him from the other room, muffled by the glass between them. Tadashi hears the front door slam as he opens the sliding door.

“Here,” Tadashi says, stepping inside.

“What’re you doing? It’s below freezing out there,” Kei brushes some snow from his hair. It looks stringy, and Tadashi tries to calculate how long it’s been since he last saw his friend take a shower.

“Just enjoying the great outdoors,” he replies mildly, moving towards the couch.

“Could you… maybe wear a coat next time?” Kei says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You’ve already almost gotten frostbite twice.” Tadashi shrugs passively but doesn’t look up at his friend as he sits and half heartedly starts to arrange his nest. Kei watches for him a minute then sighs. “I’m tired. Work sucked today.” He waits for a minute, then sighs again. “I’m going to bed. Don’t go outside anymore, okay?” Tadashi has to hold back a laugh. He never thought he’d hear the blonde say that to him, not after all the worried looks he used to get from the guy. It’s okay though, he understands that Kei doesn’t know about the healing he’s been doing. He does his best to look sincere when he nods his head. 

“Sure. You’re back late today,” Tadashi says, “want dinner?”

“Nah, I had a sandwich before I left. Should be enough. Did you eat?”

“Mhm,” Tadashi hums softly, his way of avoiding having to tell a lie. 

“You need to eat, Yamaguchi,” Kei says, stepping up closer and leaning down so that they’re nearly chest to chest. He looks angry, the twitch of his hands confrontational, like he’s holding himself back from grabbing Tadashi and forcing him to do what he wants. It’s a pretty hypocritical lecture, coming from him, but Tadashi just widens his eyes innocently and lets him dither while he continues to languidly pick at a loose string in one of the blankets. “You - you just need to eat, okay?” he says finally, following Tadashi’s hand movements mindlessly as he does. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you need to cut it out. Just like… take care of yourself. Okay?” He steps back and looks down at Tadashi with narrowed eyes. “I mean it. Now I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, Tsukki,” Tadashi placates, and watches with a serene smile as the blonde gives him a second suspicious look before turning around and going to his room. He waits a few minutes after Kei’s door clicks closed before getting up to steal across the floor, avoiding all the spots in the hardwood  that he knows will creak and give him away. He crouches in front of his friend’s closed door, waiting. He ends up waiting for thirty-eight minutes exactly, the ends of his mouth involuntarily curving up a little more with every passing moment. By the time he hears what he’s looking for, all of his teeth are bared. This is step two in his journey to taking back his sanity, to becoming someone who can provide for Kei for a change, rather than the other way around. 

Slowly, slowly, he cracks open the door, waiting until he’s met with a small round of Kei’s soft snoring before standing and slipping in. Kei’s still in his work pants and jacket and is laying face down on the bed, the covers already tangled around him like a Greek chlamys. He must’ve really been exhausted. Tadashi reaches across his friend’s body to turn off the bedside lamp he’s left on. The back of the blonde’s suit jacket is soft and radiating his warmth, too old and worn to keep it contained. Tadashi lets his fingertips linger there when he pulls away from the lamp, watching the red glow from the window slowly creep across the now dark room, settling itself at Kei’s side obediently. He wonders if this is what it’s like when a pet accepts a newborn. Weird. Still fucking weird, he thinks, but even it his head it sounds resigned. Maybe if they’d never left home things wouldn’t have gotten like this, gotten so fucked up. There’s just something about this city, this recession, this winter that makes him feel like hiding and makes him want to hide Kei too. Something about the thought of Kei having to work in this city, having to slog through the filth of it all makes him want to bathe his friend in his own blood, cleanse and purify him with his own body. Maybe with that kind of dedicated baptism then he could get them out of here, get them somewhere better, get them back on track.

Tadashi reaches for his own chest, tracing the outline of the raised skin there, feeling where his crude hand sewed up that small pocket just beneath his shirt. It stings, and not in a way that feels that good anymore. That’s okay though, he still doesn’t regret it. It’s a nice reminder and makes him feel more in control. It was a necessary step in order to clear his mind and take back the reins of their life, and even if he sometimes feels like he’s in a fog these days, it's a heady and happy place that’s only served to help motivate him since he implanted the tooth and took a little bit of his childhood friend, bestfriend, arguably his soulmate, for himself. But their relationship is give and take, and all he’s done is take, so now it’s time to give. 

Kei groans in his sleep and Tadashi stills, trying to level his breathing as he watches the body in front of him roll halfway on its side before settling back down again, this time on his back. His lungs have been working overtime lately, taking in and pushing out enough air to sustain a marathon runner on his last sprint to the finish line, even when he’s just standing still. It feels kind of bad, being this constantly out of breath, and the fact that his heart has started to follow suit doesn’t seem like a great sign, but he tries not to think too hard about it. He doesn’t blame Kei for being worried about him, he probably looks like hell. He hasn’t looked in a mirror in a while but he knows the bruising on his chest has started to turn black and he’s pretty sure he can feel it beginning to snake up towards his neck, the tendrils of his drying blood rotting and spreading just beneath the topmost layers of his skin, as if to illustrate that he himself is decaying. Soon it’ll be hard to cover, but he tells himself it’s worth it. He watches as Kei’s eyelids open slightly, fascinated by the way his eyes roll back into his head in protest, seeking darkness. He looks so tired. Sweet Tsukki, my Tsukki , his brain hums, conjuring images of fantasy connections that they’ve never shared, made up memories of pale hands on freckled skin that threaten to drown him. Tadashi presses a hand to his abdomen, feeling it’s flatness and letting that pull him back to the surface just enough. “Tsukki,” he whispers, and reaches for the waistband of his pajama pants. 

He pulls himself out quickly and efficiently, feeling at the head of his still soft penis as he stares down at his sleeping friend. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling wholly new every time. His heartbeat quickens impossibly, its frenetic pumping sending blood racing down south so fast he feels himself go lightheaded, though maybe that could also be attributed to the wound in his chest that’s reopened at the stimulation, the tensing of his muscles pulling at the skin until the edges are fraying, bleeding, trickling streams of himself and something darker down the front of his chest to soak into his last clean shirt. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up the pace that he sets for himself as he leans forward to grip the edge of the mattress with his free hand, bringing himself a little closer to the blonde. Tsukki, Tsukki, my Tsukki chants like a prayer in his head, its steady rhythm pulsing to the ache in his chest, to the twitch of his cock, to the slap, slap, slap of his skin. 

Nausea creeps in around the other sensations, filling the gaps, but he pushes through it, having grown accustomed to its presence ever since he opened himself up. Getting himself to come has been getting harder and harder every day, but the tooth has made him greedy. A single part of Kei is good but he needs more, and if he can’t have Kei inside of him, then at the very least he can plant a little of himself in Kei. If he can’t bathe Kei in his blood, then at the very least he can anoint him in this - a little bit of sharing between the two of them to stave off the pain , the fear of being alone. 

When he feels himself start to get close, he leans over his friend to bring the tip near Kei’s mouth, taking one last shuddering breath before releasing against his parted lips, then stumbling back before he blacks out from the lack of blood in his brain. It takes several minutes of him crouched on the floor before he’s able to move again, one hand coming up to cup his still sluggishly bleeding wound as he stumbles to his feet to check that Kei’s swallowed. He’s made a little bit of a mess this time, and drops a hand a little too heavily against the other man’s cheek to wipe away the drops of himself that missed the mark. 

“Ta - dashi…?” Kei’s groggy voice sends a cold chill of panic racing down his spine. Suddenly, he’s staring into sleepy yellow eyes. 

“Goodnight,” he whispers, standing jerkily and turning to leave. 

“Ta - Yamaguchi?” Kei sounds more awake now. He bolts. 

He’s outside before he knows it. Not out on the balcony this time, but properly, actually physically outside. Out of their apartment, out of the building, out the front door. Outside. It’s been so long, but it doesn’t feel like it has been. It’s cold outside, but it doesn’t feel like that either. An upside to the fevers , he muses, and then doubles over clutching his head. When did he start getting fevers? It feels like he’s had one forever, but that can’t be right. He was doing better, a few days ago. Or was it a week ago? He was taking his temperature, confident that the tooth wasn’t rejecting, that his body was accepting it as the last natural part of himself meant to make him whole. His head is splitting , he feels like he’s going to be sick, but why again? Why’s he feel like this? He feels like he’s in a fog, like he’s too hot inside his own skin, but no, that can’t be - he’s outside and it’s snowing, after all. He shakes himself and blindly pushes off of the last step onto the concrete below. He misses the apartment almost immediately, misses the atmosphere that’s just enough for two. He’s here though, he’s doing this, he’s just tired. The slabs of the sidewalk clatter and clank at him like teeth, making it so that he has to hop from landing point to landing point to even get half a block away, and the neighbors who are out despite the time and weather glare as he goes past. Right, okay, where to go. He turns a corner, then another, following some bad instinct and possibly the wind. As long as he keeps his back to it, this shouldn’t be too bad. His chest is throbbing and starting to feel kind of wet, from blood or pus he doesn’t know, but it’s okay because he almost maybe feels like if he jumps at just the right angle he’ll be able to glide a few feet through the air.

He likes being here, he realizes, likes the way this feels. Kei still thinks he’s scared to go outside, but he doesn't know that Tadashi doesn’t have to be scared anymore. He doesn't know that with this new addition in his chest, Tadashi has a longer leash now, can do more things on his own now. Best to keep him in the dark, Tadashi thinks. Best to let the red sky’s light keep him company back at home in his bed. It’s the best Tadashi can do for his best friend, his baby. Not mine, he has to remind himself, gotta stop thinking like that, it’s not okay. His inner voice is teasing though, and a small laugh bubbles from his lungs as he takes another small leap to avoid one particularly shaky sidewalk slab. The wind carries him to the next, let’s him light gracefully onto the curb. This whole world is a maze of brick and concrete and chain link fence, but right now maybe that’s what he needs. He touches the ring of welts that have formed under his shirt, feels the liquid that’s accumulated there just beneath the sewn up skin slosh in it’s small, man-made pouch, and smiles. His nest of blankets never held him this close, their small apartment never made him feel this secure. He’s blocks away from home, but Kei’s inside him finally. And he’s inside Kei, back home. One in the other, never too far away. He breathes in the biting air and tries not to shake apart with relief. He can really do this. It was a good idea after all.

“Hey buddy, you lost?” Tadashi freezes. He doesn’t move but he lets his eyes slant sideways to peek at the man he hadn’t noticed before, crouched up against the wall near his feet.    

“No,” he says simply, and raises his chin.      

“Really? You look sick,” the man responds frankly, his face coming forward from the shadows to get a better look at Tadashi, his neck stretching sickly as he does so.      

“I’m fine,” Tadashi says, still refusing to move. He won’t be bullied by some stranger from a city not half as beautiful as home.   

“Really?” the man repeats, his head rotating slowly clockwise, his dark eyes growing impossibly wide. “You look like you got the shit beat outta you. Just get outta county?”     

“Jail?” Tadashi asks.     

“Hospital,” the man says smiling, and offers up a large palm. At the center is a sleeping crow, it’s head peacefully tucked behind one wing. The man leans forward, trying to hand Tadashi the bird.      

“Uh, no thanks. And no, I’m not sick.”      

“You look like shit though.” The man waits a moment, then tucks the bird back into his pocket. “Who did that to you?” he asks, and gestures at Tadashi’s chest.      

“Did what to me?” Tadashi says, putting a hand up to cover his secret defensively.     

“That, dude. Who did that.” The man pats his own sternum then mimes some sort of growth up his neck. “It looks like it hurts like a bitch.”     

“No one did anything,” Tadashi says, but jumps when he feels just how wet the front of his shirt has really gotten. He looks down to find a large black stain glistening in the red glow of the sky and fists at his shirt as he tries to remember when exactly that happened. Had one of the welts burst? And when had the welts appeared? How did he get here, again?  

“Yeah? What about that?” the man chuckles and points at Tadashi’s side. “Who did that?”    

“Nobody did anything, okay? Back off -” Tadashi starts to say, but stops when he realizes that oh, wait, he’s bleeding from his side too, only this one seems fresher. He can actually see the stain growing, spreading down his shirt. When did that happen? “What the fuck?” he whispers, confused.     

“What about those? Did the same person do those too?” The man says, his eyes crinkled and warm.    

“What?” Tadashi says distractedly, trying to staunch the bleeding at his side with one hand, trying to cover his chest with the other.    

“Hands,” the man says kindly, and slowly opens and closes his own in the space between them, making them look like large, blooming flowers. How’s he doing that?      

“Huh?” Tadashi says, and lets go of his chest to hold his left hand up to the light. There’s a hole at the center of his palm big enough so that he can almost see through it. He watches as the blood seems to hesitate at the wound’s entrance before slowly beginning it’s descent down his arm. “Huh?” he says again and can feel himself starting to shiver and shake. When did it get so cold?

“Crow?” the man offers, and he has the bird out in front of him again. It’s still asleep.  

“N-no,” Tadashi says, stumbling backwards. “No.” Then he’s running.        

He doesn’t know how long he runs for. Doesn't know exactly where it is that he goes. What he does know, though, is that the longer he goes the louder his footsteps get, their frantic rhythm clapping like thunder in the empty streets, echoing back at him in a way that makes him feel blind. Was it always this dark? Where did all the people go? Was this where he was supposed to be? The sidewalk has stopped chattering; the red sky’s light has receded. He’s being isolated. He’s alone . Tadashi clutches at his chest in the deafening silence, trying to ignore just how soaked the front of his shirt is. Where is their apartment? Where’s Kei? He thinks he might vomit. His legs are shaking violently, and he doesn’t think they’ll support him for much longer. He’s going to fall and not be able to find his way home. He’s going to die right here on the streets, far away from their apartment and far away from Kei.

“Tsukki!” he rips the word from his lungs, choking on the screamed sob that is his friend’s name. “Tsukki,” he whimpers again pitifully as he falls to his knees, his eyes burning as they squeeze shut on impact. His body feels heavy. He’s going to be sick. “Tsukki...”      

He curls in on himself to wait. There’s nothing left to do. “Tsukki,” he whispers a final time, only this time something answers. The soft mechanical whirring of a street light flickering to life buzzes in his ear. He opens his eyes. “Tsukki?” The light winks at him from across the street, illuminating the doorway directly below it. HOME.

He’s tearing across the street and up the stairs before his mind can even start to process the pain of that endeavor, uncaring of the fact that he’s quickly accumulating more and more cuts and scrapes as he half crawls, half drags himself up and up towards his light at the end of the tunnel. He just needs to see Kei’s face one more time, then he’ll be ready to go. He’s just got a few more things to say, then whatever happens happens. He’ll be able to live with that kind of ending. He’s just got to see Kei first.

“Tsukki?” His voice is loud and desperate, but he doesn’t feel that scared. Not anymore. The door’s unlocked and he stumbles in, tripping on his own feet as he tries to stand. “Tsukki?” he calls out again, a swell of something warm rising dangerously in his chest as he hears the unmistakable thud of his friend rolling clean off his bed.

“What? What’s wrong?” Kei bursts from his room looking frazzled, the last remnants of sleep still clearly clouding his mind, making his voice rough and helping him forget just how mad he’s been at Tadashi these last few weeks. “Have you been outside?” he says, eyeing the open door suspiciously. “I thought… I thought earlier was a dream. Did you go outside?” He starts to take a frustrated step towards the door when he stops and finally, finally takes a good look at Tadashi. The brunette tries to stand and wave meekly, but finds it to be a rather trying task.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Kei says, catching the smaller man around the middle and easing them both down onto the floor. “Whoa, wait, what happened to you?” Tadashi smiles when his friend’s voice catches in his throat. “Wait, what is this? What the fuck is this?” He’s got his hands on the front of Tadashi’s chest. His fingers start to tremble as he registers the blood. “What the fuck is this, Yamaguchi? What the fuck is this?” Tadashi smiles gently and tries not to wince when Kei starts to violently rip at his shirt. If anyone’s allowed to bully the spot it’s Kei, if anyone’s allowed to insist on seeing it it’s him. “Tadashi, what the fuck is this?” Kei’s voice is hardly a whisper now, he sounds like he’s trying not to cry. “What is this?” Tadashi feels shaky fingertips brush the blackened and swollen skin at the center of his chest and closes his eyes, trying to drink in the moment. He’s dying, he’s sure of it now, and though this wasn’t exactly how he’d planned for it to happen it’s not too bad a way to go. Kei shakes him. “Don’t you dare,” he’s saying, his words tripping over themselves in a hushed sort of panic, hand’s too tight on Tadashi’s shoulders. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Tadashi struggles to open his eyes again. He feels weighed down, tired, like he could sleep for a hundred years. “Sorry Tsukki,” he says, reaching up a trembling hand to pat his friend on the cheek.

“No, no, don’t you fucking dare. Wake up. Wake the fuck up Tadashi. Wake the fuck up.” Kei’s hitting him, Tadashi realizes. Not hard, but hard enough for him to blink back to life momentarily. “What happened?” Kei asks angrily when he thinks he’s got Tadashi’s attention again. “Who did this to you?”

Now that surprises him, and he certainly can’t let go if Kei doesn’t understand what’s happening here. “I did,” Tadashi scrapes out, his voice thick with the drowsiness that’s starting to pull him under.       

“What? ” Kei is really panicking now. “What do you mean? What does that mean? Why? What… Oh Jesus Christ, Tadashi, what’ve you done to yourself?” He sounds like he’s being strangled.      

“Shh,” Tadashi says, moving up to cradle his friend’s face as his eyelids start to droop again. “Shh, I did it for you. A little piece of you. I’m keeping it with me, see? Keeping you safe.” Kei looks like he’s been slapped. “We’re close like this, together. I’m keeping you inside, see? I love you, Tsukki - love you. I did it for you, okay? Sorry for being...” God, he’s getting tired, “such a burden.” Tadashi smiles again and lets himself slump against the other man who's holding him a little too tightly, lets himself grin into the crook of his best friend’s neck. He’s sleepy and he can’t hear Kei’s voice anymore, but he can feel it vibrating through his chest. His last few breaths rattle through him, and he reaches up to stroke the warm skin of his friend’s neck for comfort. Huh. The holes in his hands are gone. All that's left is him and what he’s done to himself and the boy he did it for. That’s okay though, this is a better end than he could’ve ever anticipated. Like this, he gets to say his piece and not have to worry about the consequences. Like this, he gets to be truthful without having to live with being the one thing holding the blonde back for the rest of his life. He presses himself against Kei. I love you , he thinks, smiling, I’ve always loved you, Tsukishima Kei. You’ll understand, someday. Goodbye.

*     *     *

At first, death is pleasantly underwhelming. It’s a gentle drifting off, a soft pillowing of all your senses until you can’t hear, see, or feel a thing. It’s a peaceful sinking into nothingness, until all of the sudden it’s not. Tadashi’s chest is on fire.

“Yamaguchi?” a voice says. It sounds underwater and far away. “Yamaguchi?” 

Tadashi tries to look for the source but he’s surrounded by darkness, floating in a velvety abyss with a chest that’s gone up in flames. He tries to move his leadened arms, tries to reach for whatever it is that’s burrowing into his sternum, making him want to bend in half backwards to escape the agonizing pain. 

“Yamaguchi?” 

A sharp sensation shoots up his spine and he has to grit his teeth to keep from shouting, his eyes blinking furiously to clear away tears as he struggles to get his bearings. 

“Tadashi, can you hear me?”       

Maybe he blinks too hard, but suddenly there's a light. Then there’s two. The abyss lurches, dragging him down under before changing course and pushing him up towards the luminous spots in the darkness. They come rushing at him like headlights and he shrinks back to escape them just as he breaks the surface and is flooded with a brightness so unbearable he has to close his eyes.

“Tadashi?” That voice is familiar. “Open your eyes, idiot.” He does. He snaps them open and stares. First at a white ceiling, then at a white curtain that’s surrounding him, then at a gathering of tubes that seem to all be leading to his right arm. “You finally awake?”

 “Tsukki? ” Tadashi’s heart is in his throat and he can barely scrape the word together. He feels like he hasn’t spoken in years and he wheezes around his own raspy stuttering. “What - what happened?”

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Kei’s smile makes his skin crawl. His friend is gaunter than he remembers. He’s got a harrowed look about him, as if a shadow has taken up residency in the hollows beneath his eyes. He looks desperate and hungry and dangerous. Tadashi tries to sit up. “ Don’t, ” he hisses, striking out with three fingers to push down hard on Tadashi’s bare chest, exactly where it’ll hurt. 

“Tsukki?” Tadashi says, his eyes watering, “where are we?”

“The hospital,” the blonde says, and doesn’t remove his hand. He looks down at Tadashi contemplatively, a question softening his face for a moment before some unspoken answer that he seems to divine from Tadashi’s expression hardens it once again.

“What happened?” He asks, scrambling for some way to hold onto that softness. He’s scared of this new Kei, he needs to see the old one.

“You tried to leave me.” Kei’s voice is soft but lethal. His shoulders hunch as he presses two of the three fingers down.

“I didn’t, I -”

“You did.” The pressure on Tadashi’s chest is punishing, but he tries not to let it show. “You did this for me though, right?” Kei asks in a mocking tone.

“I -”

“You did it for me, right ?” Tadashi swallows hard and nods. That seems to throw Kei off, like he’d been expecting more of a fight. He blinks down at the brunette and lets up the pressure, opting to instead skim his fingertips over the spot where the tooth used to be, his face thoughtful. “You did it for me?” he asks, and this time it’s really a question.

“Yes.” God, Tadashi hates how small his voice sounds, how needy and repentant he feels. Whatever the hospital staff has done to him has returned to him some of his sanity, making the weight of what he’d almost done to both himself and his best friend much heavier than he’d anticipated in his delirious state when he’d been on the brink of poisoning himself to death. 

“I thought so,” Kei says, absently running his nails down a particular patch of freckled skin as he nods to himself. “You did this for me.” A note of possessiveness crawls into his words and Tadashi flinches, watching as a cruel little smile slowly graces his friend’s face, stretching it in a way that feels familiar and yet strange. “And you love me, huh?” he says, bringing his forehead down to rest it on Tadashi’s, his eyes twinkling in that way that they used to when he would tease the other boys on the volleyball court, a look Tadashi realizes he hasn’t seen in a long time. “That was pretty stupid of you,” Kei says with a laugh and pulls back, his eyes crinkling at the corners with fondness. He almost looks like the old Kei now, but Tadashi keeps stock still. He’s not sure he knows this person, not yet anyway. 

“I - I’m sorry if I… If I made you worry,” Tadashi tries saying, trying to keep his voice even as Kei’s rhythmic pets down his sternum start to grow more heavy handed. The bandages littering his front keep the touch from becoming overwhelming, but he can’t help but cringe away from the familiarity of the gesture; some mixture of embarrassment, fear, and desire all swirling in his stomach until he’s practically vibrating out of his skin. 

“You scared me half to death,” Kei corrects him, his voice going quiet and lethal as he watches his own fingers rather than meeting Tadashi’s eye. “That little… science project of yours festered. Sepsis, and a couple of other things. They think you were seeing hallucinations at the end. But you couldn’t stop there, right? Hypothermia, bit of frostbite, severe dehydration. You seriously almost died, Tadashi.” The brunette flinches, eyes wide at hearing his official diagnoses. “You couldn’t be without me so you did all that to yourself, is that it? Did you even for one second stop to think what it would be like for me?” He glances up, but huffs when Tadashi’s expression doesn’t change. He seems to take it as a sign of defiance, pressing his hand down harder as a punishment, when really Tadashi’s just too startled to react. Half of his brain wants to get as far away from this new Kei as quickly as possible while the other is urging him to arch up into his touch and beg the other man to touch him more like he’s never dared dream of doing, but he’s sober now, not half out of his mind with delirium, and he feels like he can’t quite get his bearings now that all of his self assurance has evaporated along with his fever. 

“I’m really sorry, Tsukki -” he tries again, but Kei cuts him off. 

“Also, did you come in my mouth?”

“Huh?” Oh God. He did. Oh fuck, how does he explain this. 

The blonde gives him an annoyed look. “I thought it was a dream, but now I’m thinking it really wasn’t. Well, whatever. I think it’s time we get something straight.” 

“I’m - I’m -” Tadashi starts to say, but Kei steps up right next to the hospital bed he’s on and leans over to loom across his prone form. The look he gives him makes him feel helpless, and with a nervous gulp he shuts up. 

“Whatever delusion you’ve gotten into your head that makes you think that in order to be close to me you have to mutilate yourself, get over it. Now. Not only is that a ridiculous conclusion to make, but it’s also, frankly, insulting. We’ve been friends since we were eight years old, you should know by now that if you want more of my time all you need to do is ask. If it’s not totally obvious yet, I care about you, Yamaguchi. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I would be more than happy to take care of you even more, if that’s what you want -” 

Tadashi feels himself color. “That’s exactly the issue, though!” he tries to say, his face heating with equal parts self consciousness and shame, “I feel like I’m a burden -” 

“- Not out of any sense of obligation, or whatever stupid idea you’ve convinced yourself of,” he plows on, eyes flashing to quell Tadashi’s interruption, “but because,” he says, getting closer, reaching out a finger to trace along the underside of Tadashi’s jaw so that he can tip his chin up and force him to maintain eye contact, “ because you are mine .” 

Tadashi just stares at him, mouth open and eyes wide. 

“Got it?” Kei says, and Tadashi’s stomach flutters at the reprimanding tone he uses, like he’s talking to an untrained dog that needs to be taught its place. Maybe this new Kei isn’t so bad…

“Got it,” he agrees quickly, nodding his head to reaffirm the point until Kei’s hand drops and his shoulders relax a little, satisfied. 

“Good. And the next time I make you come, it won’t be while I’m asleep. Got it?” He traces his hand down the length of Tadashi’s torso, teasing him, and not stopping when his fingers hit the blanket, choosing instead to drag it down with his nails until he gets to the smaller man’s groin. He hesitates for only a second before he’s snaking those lithe fingers over the hospital gown he’s wearing and cupping his already embarrassingly hard cock through the thin fabric, smirking when Tadashi nearly jumps off the bed. “Not anytime soon, though. They’re going to keep you here for observation for a few more days. But until you get home…” he gives his throbbing erection a final squeeze before letting go to turn around and pick up his coat. Tadashi takes the moment’s reprieve from being under the blonde’s intense attention as an opportunity to try to uncross his eyes and calm his thumping heart. He’s so focused on trying to compose himself that he misses the way his friend pulls something out of one of the pockets of his jacket, only realizing that his focus is back on him when Kei grabs his left hand and holds it aloft as he leans in to kiss Tadashi hard and slow. It takes a few seconds for Tadashi’s brain to catch up, but when it does he melts into the blonde, their mouths opening and sliding together needily until Kei finally breaks the kiss. “I hope that this will suffice in tiding you over. Should be better than a tooth, at least. Now give me a minute, I need to go find a nurse. I was supposed to tell them when you woke up.” 

Confused, Tadashi watches as the blonde disappears behind the curtain and listens as he crosses the room. It takes him a second before he feels the weight of the foreign object that’s been added to his hand. He looks down, heart racing, to stare at the simple silver ring that’s been placed on the ring finger of his left hand. Kei's voice echoes in his ears. ‘ Because you are mine.’