Work Text:
❧
Kusaka raps his knuckles twice against the door in quick succession as he turns the key to let himself in. Even when the door thuds shut, Akizuki doesn't look up from his computer.
When Kusaka greets him, Akizuki's shoulders jerk and he glances up enough to flash a smile; just enough for Kusaka to see the crease in his brow that the curve of his lips doesn't smooth out. Bad day, then. Kusaka wonders just how bad.
"Have you taken your meds?" he asks as he crosses the room. Akizuki doesn't like to rely on drugs, even ones without noticeable side effects, to the point that he'll sometimes stop taking them. And sometimes it's as simple as that when Akizuki has a really bad day. But sometimes he overexerts himself, pushes up against his limitations as if he can push past them; or he gets so involved in what he's doing or what he wants that it's as if he's forgotten his very self. Kusaka, caught between a sigh for his patient and a smile for his now-friend, thinks Akizuki was probably like that before the accident, too.
"Yes," Akizuki says absently, giving Kusaka another glanced smile before he returns to the screen. His brow knits in concentration. "It's only that I still can't find the right one. I'm getting closer, though."
Kusaka follows Akizuki's frown to the monitor, tiled window after tiled window featuring ink-etched skin. Mostly stylized insects this time. A few aren't tattoos but photographs of actual insects. One of them is a cicada.
This is when Kusaka knows.
He's known before, of course. The part of him that wants it to be true would like to believe that he's known since the first moment he saw Akizuki, though the fact of the matter is that Kusaka didn't start to have the flashes until that night. Dreams; the part of him that doesn't want it to be true says they're only dreams, not anything else. Even when he did some research, purely on a whim of course, and found mention in Japanese military records of a Touma Kusaka and a Keiichirou Akizuki who fought on opposite sides in the Boshin War—even then, part of Kusaka insists that the waves of nostalgia his "dreams" bring on are only the result of misfiring neurons.
Kusaka has shared neither dreams nor research with Akizuki. If the one part of him is right, there's no real meaning, no point in sharing it. If the other part of him is right...if the part of him that believes in glimpses of past lives is right, there are things he wouldn't wish on Akizuki. So every time Kusaka knows, he tucks the knowledge deep, deep down in his heart.
He touches the back of Akizuki's wrist as it rests on the arm of the wheelchair. "You're still getting it here?"
Akizuki's hand slides from beneath Kusaka's as he raises it and presses the open palm to his chest. Right where a sachet might rest, if Akizuki wore such a thing around his neck. Which he doesn't.
"Oh," Kusaka says. Then he smiles. "Nice. Are you ready to start now, or do you want me to come back later?"
With a wistful sigh, Akizuki casts a last glance at the monitor. "No, now is fine. This is our appointed time, after all." Smiling, he flips shut the laptop and wheels himself back from the desk.
On the way to the bedroom, they talk about Kusaka's physical therapy classes. When Kusaka started working as Akizuki's in-home therapist, he thought Akizuki was only asking him about the classes out of politeness. It wasn't until he found Akizuki surfing physiotherapy sites that he realized Akizuki was genuinely interested, and Kusaka takes pleasure now in sharing what he's learning. He's even taught Akizuki some stretching exercises he can do on his own, as well as massage techniques he can use on himself. "You won't need me at all, soon enough," Kusaka joked once.
"I'll always need you!" Akizuki teased back. Kusaka had laughed, and tucked his real smile down with everything he does and doesn't know.
Now Akizuki transfers himself to the bed, gets the waistband of his trousers down to his hips, and lets Kusaka help him off with them. Akizuki once remarked that Kusaka seemed to prefer the left leg, giving it his first attention every time, and Kusaka had blushed to realize it was true. Fortunately Akizuki had not inquired after either the habit or the blush, and since then Kusaka has made an effort to alternate. This time, though, he allows himself to start the stretching routine with Akizuki's left leg.
Since instruction would be pointless because Akizuki knows this exercise as well as Kusaka does by now, they fall into the companionable quiet they often share. Stretching gives way to massaging, and Kusaka is working the muscles in Akizuki's thigh when he notices that Akizuki has the beginnings of an erection. A glance up tells him Akizuki has noticed, too. "Don't worry," Kusaka crooks an easy grin as he keeps massaging, "it's a natural reaction. Happens all the time with patients." He winks to set Akizuki at ease, too. "It doesn't mean anything, you know?"
Akizuki looks at him, unsmiling. And then he says, "I like you."
A small blush creeps along the back of Kusaka's neck, up to his ears. As he continues his professional ministrations, he says, "Yeah, well, I like you, too. We're friends, right?" He manages another grin but doesn't meet Akizuki's eyes, on the pretense of focusing on the massage.
"Don't say such halfhearted things." Akizuki's words cause the image of the cicada to stir, rustling its wings against the walls of Kusaka's secret heart. Kusaka holds his breath, willing the cicada to quiet. It does—but then Akizuki touches Kusaka's hand. When Kusaka looks up, Akizuki smiles and says, "I really like you."
Kusaka keeps looking at him; even when he blinks, he keeps looking. He knows these words, too, though not exactly like this. It's never exact, his knowledge, but Kusaka knows anyhow. He swallows. "Yeah," he says. "I." The cicada is in his lungs now, but he breathes. Breathes and says, "I really like you, too."
They're still touching, their gazes entangled. Then Akizuki lets go of Kusaka's hand to hook his fingers inside Kusaka's waistband in silent question.
Moistening his lips, Kusaka answers aloud, as if the word can make this more real: "Yes." He undoes his jeans and, moving closer to be within Akizuki's easy reach, takes himself out. At the first touch of Akizuki's fingertips, a kiss of skin on skin, Kusaka closes his eyes. Breath thickening, he moans as Akizuki rubs beneath his cockhead, gasps as the pad of Akizuki's thumb flicks across.
Kusaka opens his eyes as Akizuki continues to fondle him. "May I touch you, too?"
Akizuki's smile notches up. "Yes."
Silent cicada chirps vibrate in Kusaka as he traces the length of Akizuki's cock; Akizuki's pulse thrums against Kusaka's fingertips in response.
"I like the way you blush," Akizuki says softly. A new rush of heat settles beneath Kusaka's skin. He stops stroking but doesn't let go. When he looks up, Akizuki smiles and says, "I like it." Kusaka's smile gets caught in his inhale and he looks away, blushing; he looks at Akizuki's cock again because it's easier than meeting Akizuki's eyes.
When Kusaka starts to stroke Akizuki again, Akizuki's hand joins his briefly, just a touch before Akizuki lets go and says, "This is as hard as it gets, I think." Kusaka curls his fingers around Akizuki's cock and looks up. Akizuki smiles. "At least, that's as hard as I've been able to get it, myself," he says, and Kusaka follows Akizuki's gaze back down to his cock.
Kusaka holds Akizuki in one hand and pets him with the other. He thinks he should say something, but he can't; he doesn't know what to say and he doesn't think he'd be able to speak anyhow, so he dips down and kisses Akizuki's cock. Closing his lips soft and firm around it, Kusaka kisses Akizuki's cockhead, with twirls and licks and swirling tricks of his tongue.
"Could you kiss me like that?"
Kusaka looks up at Akizuki's soft words; Akizuki is blushing now, too. Akizuki moistens his lips. "Would you like to, I mean..." He trails off.
He takes a breath, but if there are words to accompany it, they're lost when Kusaka slides up his body and kisses his lips. Akizuki sighs into his mouth, puts his arms around Kusaka, and Kusaka feels trembling in the arms around him, in the lips against his, trembles undisguised by the softly flicking tongue. Still kissing him, Kusaka lowers Akizuki's body gently, rocking and rubbing against him, moaning into the kiss, into Akizuki. Breaking off to catch a breath, Kusaka looks at Akizuki laid out beneath him. "Are you—is this okay?"
"Yes." Akizuki gazes into Kusaka's eyes. "You can fuck me, if you want."
Kusaka doesn't answer right away, breath held and taken away at once, and yet he's still breathing somehow. Light a fire. He hears the words in Akizuki's voice, though not from Akizuki's lips, which are still and smiling.
The flutter and whir of cicada wings bear the words from Kusaka's secret heart to his tongue. "I love you." I've loved you for so long, you can't know—I hope you don't know, I wish for you to know only now, alive and now…
Akizuki smiles; oh, he smiles. Kusaka could live a lifetime in that smile.
Then: "Please," Akizuki says with his smiling mouth, "please, Kusaka, would you fuck me on my back so I can look at you?"
"Yeah~" Kusaka covers Akizuki's mouth with his own, licking at his smile, feeling it melt against him, drinking down Akizuki's smile. "Yeah, we can do that."
He gets Akizuki out of his boxers before shimmying out of his own jeans and briefs. Their shirts are still on, and Kusaka looks at the soft curve of Akizuki's belly beneath the hem of his shirt; he looks at the soft curve of Akizuki's cock and feels his own cock reaching for his hem, tip brushing against it.
And then it's Akizuki reaching for him. Akizuki slicking him up. Kusaka joins him, breath thickening at the sight of their hands moving together on his cock.
"I don't need that," Akizuki tells him when Kusaka reaches between his legs with slick fingertips. "You can just—you won't hurt me."
"I just want to touch you," Kusaka says, watching Akizuki's face. Akizuki doesn't arch or moan, no tremor of pain or pleasure flickers beneath his skin as Kusaka fingers him. Neither does he flinch from the gaze. When he slips a hand down to join Kusaka's, fingers curling around Kusaka's wrist loosely, thumb stroking the underside of Kusaka's wrist in encouragement, Kusaka leans down to take Akizuki's smile in another kiss.
Kneeling back up, Kusaka wraps a hand around his cock to guide himself. He hesitates before asking, "Could you hold yourself open for me?"
In answer, Akizuki reaches down, flushed, the hint of a smile settled into the corner of his mouth. Kusaka's smile is too deep inside him, but he thinks maybe Akizuki sees it anyhow. He rests his free hand on one of Akizuki's, twining their fingers so Akizuki at least can feel that. As he pushes in, Kusaka tightens his hand with Akizuki's; Akizuki squeezes back.
Kusaka holds when he's all the way in. It's strange and familiar, and beyond that the wonder is wordless.
"Kusaka?"
"Akizuki~" Kusaka slides out, slides back in, gaze bound with Akizuki's. He murmurs Akizuki's name again, moving slowly, going the full length with each stroke.
"Is it tight enough?"
Kusaka nods. It is; it's so perfect, relaxed but still snug, and oh fuck, so fucking hot and just, yeah, "yeah~"
"Make me feel it," Akizuki murmurs. Before Kusaka can say anything, he clarifies: "Not there." He touches his chest, his future tattoo, heart beating beneath it. "Here. Make me feel it here."
Light a fire deep inside me.
The cicada takes flight, wings assailing the walls of Kusaka's heart; his orgasm rushes through him, spurting into Akizuki.
Sensing Akizuki's gaze, Kusaka opens his eyes to meet it. He keeps his eyes open as he shifts, leans down to brush his lips against Akizuki's, his tongue slipping into Akizuki's mouth, stroking and curling with Akizuki's; he keeps his eyes open as he invites Akizuki into his mouth, welcoming the warm, wet explorations of his tongue, breathing Akizuki's sighs, swallowing them down.
Akizuki opens his eyes when the kiss breaks. His lips part but when no words come forth, Kusaka kisses him again. And again. He shifts himself to the side, kisses Akizuki again, tangling tongues and breaths, getting drunk on Akizuki's sighs, letting Akizuki drink some of his own.
He props up on his side, hand resting on Akizuki's chest. "Okay?" Akizuki nods, and Kusaka kisses him once more, a lingering brush of lips. With a promise to be right back, Kusaka climbs off the bed and heads towards the bathroom.
When he comes back out, Akizuki is sitting up, the duvet pulled from one side of the bed and draped across his lap. Kusaka wants nothing more than to stay, to climb into bed with Akizuki, to lie with him and feel Akizuki's body against his own, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, as his heart beats. He wants to share the beating of his own heart, the timbal thrum of song. He wants that, but it's too much; it might be too much.
After pulling on his trousers and stuffing his balled-up briefs in a pocket, Kusaka sits on the bed beside Akizuki. He watches his fingers sidle up to Akizuki's. "I know we don't have a session tomorrow, but maybe, if you like—"
"Please come," Akizuki says.
Kusaka looks up into Akizuki's smile. Blindly he finds Akizuki's hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing the back of Akizuki's fingers. "See you tomorrow, then."
In the doorway, Kusaka turns back to add something. His words are forgotten as he watches Akizuki, gaze cast down, touching himself where Kusaka's smile has just touched him.
Although it's November the next day is unseasonably warm. Warm enough that Akizuki sends a text message asking Kusaka to meet him down by the river. When Kusaka pulls into the parking area, he doesn't see Akizuki—but he does see a dark red van, which he recognizes as belonging to Akizuki's friend Aizawa. When they first met, Kusaka had a strange feeling that maybe Aizawa was from then, too, but the flashes have never included him. Kusaka likes him well enough, but he can't help feeling disappointed the man is here.
"Kusaka!" Aizawa calls as he climbs out of the driver's seat. Kusaka raises a hand in greeting on his way over. He expects Aizawa to come around to open the door for Akizuki, but Aizawa only leans against the van, cupping his hand to protect the delicate flame as he lights his cigarette. "He's down that path there." The cigarette dangles artfully at the corner of Aizawa's mouth as he points. "Think you'll be able to get him home?"
So he'll get to be alone with Akizuki, after all. Kusaka breaks into a wide grin. His car isn't tricked out as fancily as Aizawa's but he's driven Akizuki around before. "Yeah. Thanks."
The smoke of Aizawa's exhale drifts upwards, dissipating as the breeze picks up. "Any time. I'm meeting my lady in an hour, but Akizuki has my number if you guys need anything." He takes another drag, blowing rings through each other this time.
Leaving Aizawa to his cigarette, Kusaka starts down the path. It doesn't look like it leads to much, but around the second bend it opens up onto the riverbank. Akizuki is at the foot of a small fishing pier, gazing out across the water. He looks intent and yet so peaceful, Kusaka doesn't want to disturb him. He stands, content to watch, until Akizuki turns and sees him.
"How long have you been there?"
Kusaka smiles and shakes his head. "Not long." He walks down to join Akizuki in river-gazing. "It leads out to the sea from here, doesn't it?"
Akizuki nods. He looks up at Kusaka. "Have you been here before?"
A flash washes over Kusaka. This riverbank isn't that one, not exactly, but he still feels a little as if he's lying when he says, "No."
"Then please." Akizuki smiles. "Let me show you around."
Knowing that it hurts something inside Akizuki to have his chair pushed, Kusaka doesn't offer. They follow the path along the river, their pace as leisurely as the flow of water itself. Aizawa is well-versed in the local flora and fauna, and his pleasure in sharing the knowledge with Kusaka is evident in the smile that doesn't seem to leave his face as they go amongst the trees.
And that's where they find it:
"A cicada chrysalis," Akizuki says. "But it's already late autumn. Even if it hatches—"
"—It probably won't survive."
Akizuki looks up at him. "That's right."
The cicada wings in Kusaka's secret heart are beating furiously. Careful not to damage the chrysalis, Kusaka removes it from the tree. When he turns, Akizuki is looking at him strangely. "If I didn't do this, you would've just come back for it, wouldn't you?" Kusaka laughs to cover the sound of his heart's cicada. He puts the chrysalis in Akizuki's cupped hands.
Akizuki doesn't say anything. He strokes a fingertip along the chrysalis.
Then he looks up. Holding the chrysalis in one hand, he reaches for Kusaka with the other, tugging him down into a kiss. "There's a place no one goes," Akizuki says when they part. He searches Kusaka's face. "We could go there."
Kusaka smiles. "Lead on."
Akizuki hesitates. "It's difficult to get to. You would—you would have to carry me."
"I can do that," Kusaka tells him, soft and serious. He feels a blush coming on, but he keeps going. "If you'll let me. If you want me to."
Akizuki smiles now, at Kusaka or Kusaka's words or Kusaka's blush; Kusaka doesn't care exactly what Akizuki is smiling at, because Akizuki is smiling, and it's definitely a yes kind of smile, even if Akizuki hasn't said yes yet.
"That would be." Akizuki pauses, and the smile in his eyes gets softer and brighter. "Yes."
Kusaka has carried Akizuki before, though never quite like this, with Akizuki nuzzling his neck when he isn't giving Kusaka directions. It isn't far to the hidden alcove, but Kusaka feels a tremble in his arms as he finally sets Akizuki down. He sits beside Akizuki, kisses him again. Akizuki's hand is curled into a loose fist between them, and Kusaka realizes he's still carrying the chrysalis. Shrugging out of his jacket, Kusaka fashions it into a nest. Akizuki sets the chrysalis in the center, and Kusaka arranges the jacket more snugly around it. His finger hovers over the chrysalis.
"Do you think it's alive in there?" he asks.
Akizuki nods. "I'm sure of it."
"Will it hatch if we—if you take it home?"
"It might." Akizuki smiles. "It might even thrive."
Kusaka kisses his smile. They lie down together, in long grass beneath trees by the river. Images brush against the edges of his mind, and Kusaka doesn't know whether he wants to remember or to forget; he kisses Akizuki again and Akizuki kisses him, touches him, and nothing else matters.
Inflamed by Akizuki's mouth and hands, by his body, Kusaka reaches down to undo his own trousers, to relieve the pressure if not the heat. He grazes against Akizuki's cock, twists at the wrist to cup it through Akizuki's trousers, then slips his hand inside to stroke it through the drainage sleeve.
"You don't have to touch me there," Akizuki says softly, and Kusaka looks up. "I can't feel it, so. It's all right not to."
"Is it all right if I want to?" Kusaka asks, and Akizuki nods. "Want to suck you, too, sometime," Kusaka says, looking at Akizuki's face and petting his cock. "If you'll let me."
Akizuki meets Kusaka's gaze steadily. He blinks, keeps looking. Then, so softly: "Now?"
Moan caught in his throat, Kusaka touches his mouth to Akizuki's, slips his tongue in and then out so quickly that Akizuki's doesn't have time to curl around it.
As Kusaka is tugging off Akizuki's trousers, Akizuki says that he should probably cath. "It's not sexy, I know. It's just that we were lucky last time..." He doesn't finish his sentence, so his voice doesn't quiver, but his smile does.
Kusaka's smile doesn't quiver, but it softens. He touches Akizuki's hand so Akizuki will look at him. "No, it's a good idea. You'll be more comfortable, relaxed. We'll be able to enjoy ourselves and each other. And that," Kusaka says with a wink and grin and a hint of blush, "is sexy." He gets up. "I'll be right back."
Afternoon sunlight is glancing off the river, making the flow shimmer. Kusaka crouches to touch it. He holds his palm flat against the surface, then lets it slip beneath. The cold makes him shiver, and the shiver makes him smile. Whatever his dreams or memories may be, this is real.
Akizuki is naked when Kusaka comes back. It's not the first time Kusaka has seen him naked, of course. But this time—this time, there's something glorious about him. Kusaka crosses his forearms low to fist the hem of his shirt. Seeing the way Akizuki is looking at him, at his hands, Kusaka slows his stretch, dragging his hands up along his torso, inviting Akizuki's gaze to linger over the exposed skin. Finally the shirt comes off overhead, some whimsical strands of hair try to cling to it before falling back down, and Kusaka's hands fall to the waistband of his jeans. He pops the button, draws down the zipper, strips out of his jeans, out of his briefs.
And then he's naked, and somewhat breathless, and Akizuki is too; and Kusaka's cock is completely hard and Akizuki's is still a little soft.
The grass tickles Kusaka as he kneels. Cradling the undersides of Akizuki's thigh and calf, he cants both legs wider to lie between them. Sliding down, crushing the cool grass beneath his belly, he wraps a gentle fist around Akizuki's cock, kisses it and starts sucking. When he feels Akizuki's hands in his hair, Kusaka looks up and smiles around Akizuki's cock. His eyes flutter closed again as he returns his full attention to sucking.
Their hands meet on Akizuki's thigh. Akizuki whimpers. His eyes are closed, his fingers stroking Kusaka's hand. Kusaka takes his mouth off Akizuki's cock, rests his flushed cheek against it wetly, and closes his eyes, too. As Akizuki touches him, Kusaka turns his wrist and caresses the underside of Akizuki's fingers. He looks up again; Akizuki is looking at him now, lips parted, shimmer in his eyes.
Kusaka kisses Akizuki's fingers, sucks and suckles. Akizuki's fingers curl inside his mouth, stroking the back of his teeth, twisting to caress the roof of his mouth, to touch his tongue; Kusaka gags a little and Akizuki withdraws his fingers with a breathed apology.
Kusaka's not sorry, though. He follows Akizuki's hand, kisses it when Akizuki lets himself be caught; kisses Akizuki's palm and wrist, kisses and licks over the supple, trembling muscles of Akizuki's arm. The trembling makes him pause and raise his eyes to Akizuki's. Akizuki's mouth says "please" and his eyes say more, and Kusaka's mouth kisses more. He makes his way up to Akizuki's shoulder, along his clavicle to the hollow of his throat, down to sketch wetly impermanent designs on his chest, over his heart. Akizuki moans low and sweet, and Kusaka mouths his adam's apple, his lips and tongue vibrating with Akizuki's whimpers before moving up to taste and swallow them down.
When he feels Akizuki's hand around his cock, Kusaka gasps, his mouth coming off Akizuki's. He moans, lashes fluttering shut as Akizuki strokes and squeezes him again. He breathes his next moan into Akizuki's mouth, then arches up to cry inarticulate pleasure aloud when Akizuki takes him in both hands, his own cock cradled with Kusaka's.
Akizuki's own pleasure finds words: "Light a fire deep inside me." Their gazes lock. "Light a fire deep inside me," he murmurs, "so that while I'm apart from you the heat of my body won't subside."
The cicada song swells in Kusaka's heart, rushes thrumming through his blood, through every vein and artery, every organ, through the marrow of his bones. "Akizuki~, Akizuki~ oh~, Akizuki~"
"Give yourself to me," Akizuki says.
And Kusaka does: oh, he does, now, now and again, now as then, now and forever~
Still spilling out of himself and onto Akizuki, Kusaka rests his head on Akizuki's chest, giving his body a chance to remember how to breathe. "I didn't know if." Inexpressible emotion rises up. "You," Kusaka tries, but the emotion is too heavy for his words. He lies quietly, listening to Akizuki's heartbeat.
"Thank you, Kusaka. For this. For everything."
The emotion thickens Kusaka's breath so that his words come out a whisper. "Not everything."
"For everything." Akizuki's chest rises and falls beneath Kusaka's head. "More than anything, for believing we would find each other again. For recognizing me when we did."
Lifting up to find Akizuki's gaze, Kusaka twines with it. A breeze rustles through the trees. The river flows out to sea. Akizuki's heart beats in his chest beneath Kusaka's hand.
Kusaka smiles, his own heart steady, his secret cicada flown free.