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When Tsurugi comes, he does so with sticky white lines that splatter all over his own chest and Yuki’s hands. It’s a delicious sight, watching his back snap into a perfect arch as he keens, legs shaking as he tries to run away from Yuki’s fingers that are still working him open.
“Yu, Yuki!” Tsurugi gasps, eyes rolling back when Yuki continues to dig his fingers into his warm heat. Tsurugi goes limp, simply accepting his fate as Yuki kisses small lines of smeared purple down his neck. He’s taking it so well, so beautifully. He deserves this and more.
“Please.”
Tsurugi’s cry is broken, legs opening around Yuki’s waist to allow for further entry, and Yuki’s not sure what he’s begging for.
He decides that he doesn’t have to choose now, and continues to hit the spots that he knows Tsurugi loves so dearly. Tsurugi shakes against the bed, hands clasping at practically anything that will allow him to ground himself.
It doesn’t take long until Tsurugi’s coming again, dirtying himself all over. Honestly, Yuki is transfixed on the fluid on his stomach, running his fingers all over Tsurugi’s hardened abs and letting his spend drip between his fingers.
Ah. It’s not very viscous, sliding down his wrist easily, but it still makes clear lines that web between his index and middle finger.
Tsurugi comes so easily. He’s so sensitive, shivering all over, legs still spread open as he catches his breath, but he’s brought his arm up to cover his crimson face.
Yuki’s body moves before he can even think , enchanted by the sight in front of him. He grabs Tsurugi’s arm, pushing it up and away as he pins it to the sheet that lies beneath them. His eyes are completely glazed over, pupils dilated to the point his red irises simply look like a small ring beneath the dimmed light.
“Hey, Kinjo,” Yuki murmurs, and Tsurugi immediately hiccups at the name. Yuki pays it no mind, simply bringing his free hand down to Tsurugi’s thigh. “Next…”
Yuki looks down at Tsurugi. This was all him. He had done this to Tsurugi, and nobody else. He wouldn’t be able to show anyone else this, because all of it, all of it was for him-
“What should I do next, Kinjo?” Yuki breathes, hands ghosting Tsurugi’s member. He reacts to the touch immediately, all his senses clearly alight, but Yuki doesn’t dare move to touch him. He wants to hear Tsurugi say it.
Yuki tightens his grip on Tsurugi’s arm. “Is this really okay?”
Tsurugi trembles, attempting to mouth a response, but it seems he isn’t able to do that just yet. Yuki hangs onto Tsurugi tighter, shoving him into the mattress. “Hey, tell me.”
Tears form at the corner of Tsurugi’s eyes, and Yuki can tell he’s finally reached his limit.
“Kinjo, tell me.”
The thin line of shame holding Tsurugi back splinters, and the man lets his voice go.
“Yuki, please, I want, I want you, please, I want this-” Tsurugi begs, and Yuki kisses him deeply. Letting their saliva mix together, tongues intertwining, Yuki finally lifts Tsurugi’s hips up so his opening aligns with Yuki’s own sex.
“Yuki,” Tsurugi whines, one last time, and Yuki decides he can let himself go too.
-
“Yuki,” Tsurugi calls out to him. It was a particularly mundane morning, where the two of them were both dressing to get ready to work, Yuki’s clothes thrown astray on the bed while Tsurugi’s made their way neatly into the laundry basket, all folded and placed despite their destination being the washer.
Yuki pulls the tie over his head, craning his neck to look at Tsurugi. “Hm?”
Tsurugi peels the collar of his shirt down, action much too casual, and Yuki blinks rapidly when he sees the smattering of dark purples and blooming reds that travel down his neck, all the way down to his chest. It honestly looks like Tsurugi had gotten into a tussle at work and came out rather scathed, but Yuki knows exactly where they had come from.
He quickly looks away, face burning.
“Do you remember this?” Tsurugi asks, and it lacks the usual accusatory-tone that Tsurugi carries when asking that sort of question. Like if Yuki had remembered to put the dishes away, or if he’d forgotten to vacuum the floor earlier that week.
Just a simple question, but Yuki’s brain absolutely short circuits, staring at the dark patches blankly.
Ah. How was he going to explain this one…?
“Ah, uhm,” Yuki starts, looking around rather suspiciously. He tries not to meet Tsurugi’s level gaze, but it doesn’t help that he looks so damn good, standing there in their bedroom with his collar popped open, Yuki’s mark all over him.
He seems to stay silent far too long, because Tsurugi’s eyebrows begin to crinkle slightly, and Yuki decides to completely forgo any sense of self dignity he has in an attempt to quell what he’d assume would be Tsurugi’s anger.
They hadn’t really had a no hickeys in visible places rule, but considering Tsurugi couldn’t just waltz up to the police station looking like he had been fucked to sleep, it was a silent rule that Yuki had… broken the night before.
He got a little carried away. It was hard not to, when your boyfriend was Tsurugi Kinjo.
Dropping to the floor, Yuki clings to Tsurugi’s leg, giving him his best puppy dog eyes. “Tsurugiiii. I’m sorry. Really, okay? So don’t be mad… I won’t do it next time…”
Tsurugi just raises an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing…? Get up off the floor, Yuki. This is silly.”
Grabbing his leg tighter, Yuki just sighs. “But I’m serious! I really am sorry, okay? I promise I won’t do that again! I just… forgot. In the heat of the moment. But really! I won’t do any more! So it’s all good, right?”
It seems that Yuki’s awfully sincere (and embarrassing) apology worked, because Tsurugi bursts out into a small laugh that makes Yuki blush. Ah, he really had to get used to that.
“Yuki,” Tsurugi says, affection flooding into his voice. He gently shoves Yuki off his leg, then crouches down to look at him at eye level. “You know…”
Tsurugi trails off, licking his lips as he tries to best decide how to say his next words. Yuki just gazes up at him, heart thudding in his chest.
He’s got a weird feeling about this.
“I… don’t really mind,” Tsurugi starts, and Yuki immediately feels the blood rush to his head. Didn’t mind? Was Tsurugi even aware of what he was saying right now…? “I mean, it’s pretty nice that you want to leave your… mark on me.”
Yuki thinks he’s going to die.
It’s like everything gets wiped clean in his head. Of course, Tsurugi frowns, ears tinged red as he backtracks a little, clearly embarrassed by the way he worded it. Whatever Tsurugi says next falls on lost ears, because Yuki can’t get over the fact that Tsurugi wanted his mark on him. Whatever that meant.
Is it because they were close? Did Tsurugi want people to know that, too? That just like how Tsurugi was Yuki’s one and only, Yuki was the same to him? Or was it something more sinister, like the devilish voice whispering in Yuki’s ear that told him that Tsurugi was giving himself away to him, for him to take until there’s nothing left.
He’s allowing you to be selfish, the voice murmurs, and Yuki’s heart beats faster in his chest. Ah. Is that it?
Don’t you want that too? Have him all to yourself, let everyone know that.
It’s a startling thought when he realizes that Tsurugi was practically all his anyway. Through those hellish high school years, followed by the awfully bland university years, Yuki was the only person that Tsurugi had kept close to him.
Tsurugi, who had always been so lonely. Who pushed everyone away, and only showed that lovely smiling face to a select group of people. Which Yuki was a part of.
That Tsurugi, who would be lenient on Yuki and treat him specially in comparison to the rest of the group. The Tsurugi, who would smile quietly at Yuki and lean in close, whispering secrets that was kept just between the two of them (even if he got in trouble with Akane because of that).
Did that Tsurugi belong to Yuki, too?
But he was also Yamato’s, and Mikako’s.
The Tsurugi that played chess and braided both Yamato and Mikako’s hair hardly belonged to Yuki. Nor did the Tsurugi that would cry into Yamato’s jacket, the word dad whimpering through his lips.
Did he want it too? Was it not enough, for him to have Tsurugi as is? Why did Yuki want to covet all of it for himself, even the bad, even the moments where Tsurugi, where Tsurugi would-
He thinks about the gun that rested easily in Tsurugi’s palm, back then. How easy it had been for Tsurugi to point it at his own head, voice raspy and desperate as Yuki screamed at him, anyone to make it stop.
That was a Tsurugi Kinjo Yuki knew only Juu Kinjo could’ve possibly seen.
And quite frankly, Yuki never wanted to see it again.
Was it fair? To Tsurugi, to divide him up into all these small little pieces for Yuki to collect, to own, to piece together into one full human being that was entirely Yuki’s? They were all still Tsurugi, different parts of him glued together meticulously, even if Yuki wasn’t the one who was doing the gluing
Yuki bites his tongue. This wasn’t good.
That suffering Tsurugi continues to go through is something Yuki never wants to see again, wants to lock away so that Tsurugi’s deep laugh is the only thing that Tsurugi can manage. But it feels so good when Tsurugi comes to him, and only him, baring himself in ways that nobody else would be able to see.
He doesn’t want to hurt Tsurugi. He doesn’t want to see him hurt.
He just wants to see Tsurugi.
So was it like that, at that time too?
When he would take Tsurugi apart under his cock, would paint his skin into flowering violet, would coat him both inside and outside with white. What was Yuki’s desire, then, too?
Nipping at his ears, bruising his hips and thighs, biting his lip until it spills warm red blood into Yuki’s own mouth. At the end of the day, what had he been searching for?
Tsurugi’s face, squeezed and pleasured, and something so irrevocably Yuki’s doing, or was it the clutching of Tsurugi’s hands when Yuki would treat him just right? Or maybe Yuki was looking for the way Tsurugi shivered when he would whisper dirty words straight into his ear, cooing praises at how good he was doing for Yuki.
Tsurugi continues to give himself to Yuki.
Whether it be his past, his future, his trust, his feelings, his memories, his emotions- Tsurugi gives endlessly to Yuki. Was there a reason for that? What was Tsurugi Kinjo’s desire?
What could Tsurugi Kinjo possibly want from Yuki?
…and what did Yuki want from him, too?
Underneath the clouding desires, the need to be special to Tsurugi, what did Yuki even want? Could he describe it, or was it something so deeply selfish, Yuki had ended up using Tsurugi to eat his fill, satisfying the want to have something.
Yuki was nothing special. Was it a crime to want to be special? To want someone to treat him differently than the rest, like he was important, more than he actually was?
This was a sick kind of love, then. Did he love Tsurugi because he treated him specially compared to everyone else? If so, then… Why did Tsurugi ever decide that Yuki was special anyways?
A pit of desire you can’t fall back from. A love that invades every single one of Yuki’s senses, driving him insane with need.
He thinks back to what Utsuro said to him before, leaning against the creaky walls of Yuki's house.
“Why do you even like him?”
Yuki frowns. He’s not particularly keen on discussing his love life with Utsuro of all people, but the way Utsuro is faced towards him is so absolutely serious that Yuki finds himself answering, the gut feeling to leave being squashed into smithereens. “...how could you not? He’s… he’s perfect. He’s brave. He knows what he’s doing, and when he laughs he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, and when he cries I would do anything to make him stop. He’s… he’s everything to me. Even when he’s doing terrible things, I want to make excuses for him. I want to forgive…”
Yuki trails off, and Utsuro just watches him. Yuki can’t see what type of face Utsuro’s making right now, and it bothers him, but Utsuro just ends up huffing out a small laugh. “You can’t own him, you know. You can’t own people.”
Well, that was weird.
“I don’t want to own him. What are you talking about?” Yuki snaps. He doesn’t want to talk to Utsuro. Frankly, he doesn’t even understand why anyone would. He’s a piece of shit who practically ruined Yuki’s life. He doesn’t owe him anything.
Utsuro just shrugs. “I think you like him because he likes you.”
Yuki slams his hands on his desk, furious. He can’t believe Utsuro would suggest something like that. “Are you serious? You’re out of your fucking mind. Get out of my house.”
“You’re upset because I said it how it is,” Utsuro says, absolutely matter of fact, and it pisses Yuki off to no end. He doesn't love Tsurugi because… he doesn’t even know if Tsurugi feels that way about him, and Utsuro is spouting this bullshit.
Yuki scoffs. “Why don’t you worry about yourself? You’ve got enough going on as it is.”
Utusuro’s about to say something in response, face going sour at the fact that Yuki’s turned it onto him, but is interrupted by the pinging noise on his phone. It looks like Mikako’s here to pick him up now.
“Leave. Get out. And don’t talk to me,” Yuki grits out. Utsuro just squints at him, giving him one last odd look, before shrugging once more.
Yuki still felt the frustration of that interaction bubbling up and over into the next morning, and his relationship with Yamato had distanced since then. He never understood why the boy tried to play so nice with everyone.
That wasn’t how the world worked. Selfish people would take what they want, and the ones who get devoured were the ones who let them.
Yamato was one of those people that let everyone take a bite out of him, and he’d do it with a smile. Yuki had ended up awfully surprised when he realized that he too, had that selfish drive within him that came out when Yuki had absolutely least expected it.
But Yamato was a Kisaragi, and a Kisaragi had their pride. It was long overdue, until Yamato exploded like that.
Yuki remembers that quite fondly.
“Yuki…?” A voice faintly calls out to him, and Yuki’s head snaps up. How long had he zoned out? Was Tsurugi still waiting for him…?
“Yuki.”
Tsurugi is moving Yuki’s hands away from his face, which Yuki hadn’t even realized were clasping at his own mouth. Tsurugi brushes the bangs out of Yuki’ eyes, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated before he breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good, you’re here. You zoned out on me there. Are you feeling alright?”
Yuki can feel the calloused hands of Tsurugi clasping at his, and he thinks back to when those same hands had held a gun, aimed straight towards the man that Yuki loved most in the world.
There was nothing in the world that could’ve described Yuki’s feelings back then. Love? Hate? Fear? To hell with that.
“Hah.” Yuki mutters, and Tsurugi seems to grow increasingly concerned.
“...Do I need to call Inori? What’s wrong? Yuki, talk to me.”
Tsurugi's voice is bordering on a strange line between worried and weirded out, and Yuki can’t help but realize how awfully Tsurugi that is.
Yuki bursts out into laughter, and Tsurugi officially looks done with him.
“I’m calling Inori,” He says, reaching for his phone, but Yuki stops him. He doesn’t quite feel like himself yet, but he simply reaches for Tsurugi, embracing the other man in his arms.
Tsurugi halts, body rigid as he hadn’t been expecting the touch, but he melts into the hug easily. Tsurugi doesn’t ask any questions, simply letting Yuki rest in his chest for the next few minutes.
They all had their off days. Yuki knew that one best.
After a good length of time, Yuki separates from Tsurugi and gives him a weak smile. “Sorry. I’m okay now.”
“That’s good,” Tsurugi smiles. He doesn’t push, but relief does flood into his features, making that little pinch between his eyebrows disappear. “I… really need to be getting to work. If you need anything just… just call me, okay? I’ll answer, I promise.”
He wouldn’t answer for anyone else. Just you, the voice in Yuki’s head hisses, and he mentally swats it away. Stupid; This was stupid.
“Thank you, Tsurugi,” Yuki says, picking himself up off the floor. “...I love you.”
Tsurugi raises an eyebrow at the sudden confession, but seems to take it in stride. “I love you too, Yuki.”
Yuki lets those words settle into him, coursing through his blood and roaring into his ears. That’s right. Tsurugi did love him.
Yuki loved him too.
-
Forty-eight hours. Yuki had been in the same room as Tsurugi, still in a comatose state for forty-eight hours.
Utsuro takes his jacket off, dumping the thing into the washer. Snot and tears coated the entire exterior of it, the whole front damp from Yuki’s external fluids.
Pathetic. That’s what he was. Pathetic.
Utsuro was no fool. He could tell the other boy despised him to pieces, and yet when Tsurugi Kinjo’s life was on the line, Yuki was willing to do anything in his power to bring him back. Even if that meant having ot lick Utsuro’s shoes, having to beg him like the shameless piece of shit that he was.
Yuki was utterly, irreversibly selfish. He treated Utsuro like he was the root cause of every single damn problem in his life (though Utsuro did admit, some of it was fairly warranted), but then turned around and begged him to save Kinjo like he was a god graced on earth.
It’s no different from the way anyone else in his life treated him. If anything went wrong, it was Utsuro’s fault for not making it right. And if something did go right? Well, then it was a given that Utsuro would give it to them, right? The same thing every mundane fool like Yukin Maeda wanted from him.
Utsuro could lie and say he saved Kinjo because Yamato asked him to. Or that it was because he wanted to be a good person again. Or that this was his repentance. But Yamato had pulled him aside, completely serious when he said, “You’re protecting our entire class.”
It wasn’t untrue, but it made Utsuro’s skin crawl to admit it out loud. So he didn’t. Looking away, he refuses to respond to Yamato, who’s glaring at him.
“Kinjo was going to live no matter what. So why did you make Yuki beg you? Do you get a kick out of it?” Yamato demands, and Utsuro frowns. Surely, he wasn’t that worked up over Utsuro treating Yuki just as he did the others.
“...Yuki Maeda had no problem ignoring me and swearing at me, but had the nerve to ask me to save his friend. You don’t think I deserve to gloat a little?” Utsuro sighs, and is stunned when Yamato slaps him.
It stings. But when he turns to actually face him, Yamato’s eyes are rimmed red with tears, and he seems genuinely exhausted. “Utsuro, I… I was worried! About Kinjo! I… he could've died there. He really, really could've died, if you weren’t protecting him! Which I’m grateful for. I am. I’ll do… I’ll do anything you want, since you helped us. But that, with Yuki, was mean. You know all about being mean. People are mean to you, right? So is that why you thought he deserved that?”
Utsuro snarls. “You’re acting like a child over the fact that I let Yuki beg? Are you serious? I saved your friend. It wasn’t the doctors, it wasn’t any sort of otherworldly circumstance. I was the one who did it, despite you telling me you’d never use me for that-”
Utsuro's voice ends up breaking, and he looks away. This was moronic. What the hell was he doing, baring his heart out to Yamato Kisaragi? Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, charming and charismatic, able to get everyone to love him without trying. What the hell would Yamato Kisaragi know about getting used?
“I know!” Yamato shouts. “And I’m sorry! But telling Yuki that you weren’t going to save Kinjo because you guys weren’t on good terms- seriously where does that get you?! What do you get out of that! Are you upset? Then take it out on me! I’m the one who’s making promises I couldn’t keep! So keep everyone else out of it!”
Utsuro takes a breath. Calm. He wasn’t going to let Yamato Kisaragi rile him up. “Why do you even care so much? Seriously. I helped, didn’t I? Yuki Maeda probably won’t even remember with how hysterical he was. What good is it to get angry over nothing?”
Yamato just looks at him, lips curling up into something that made him look like he was about to cry. “Because you had basically told him that you were going to let the guy he loved die. I’m… I’m still human, Utsuro. Why do you think he was so hysterical anyways?”
Oh. There was that wording. Something that distinctly drew a line between Utsuro and Yamato, because Utsuro wasn’t even human, was he? No matter how many nice words that Yamato would use to try and charm Utsuro, it still came down to this at the end of the day.
Utsuro was born to be miserable and alone, and no amount of meddling could change that.
“You don’t even think I’m human, Yamato. I’m done. I’ve paid my penance with this one. After Kinjo gets better, I’m leaving. For real,” Utsuro says through his tight throat. “Just leave me alone.”
Utsuro doesn’t expect Yamato to grasp his hand so forcefully, and for the first time, he’s seeing Kisaragi Yamato absolutely break down in tears. Oh.
“I’m- Seriously! Utsuro, you..Please don’t leave,” Yamato cries. “You can do whatever you want to me, just don’t leave.”
Utsuro pulls his hand back like he’d been burned. What was… what was wrong with Yamato? “Kisaragi..?”
“Utsuro,” Yamato calls out to him, voice running ragged. “Utsuro, please, don’t leave.”
“You told me that the only way I could pay for what I’ve done is by living. Do you feel responsibility for that, then? For me? You don’t have to. It’s over. I’ve already made things right. Tsurugi Kinjo will live, and all of you will live on as you’ve always done.” Utsuro tugs at his already loose tie. It feels awfully hot in this room, his skin crawling with discomfort.
“I can’t! I can’t, because you’re my friend!” Yamato insists, and Utsuro’s fingers still.
Friend. Did Kisaragi Yamato consider him a friend? Seriously? This guy was absolutely pathe…
Briefly, Yuki Maeda’s words come back to him.
“He’s… he’s perfect. He’s brave. He knows what he’s doing, and when he laughs he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, and when he cries I would do anything to make him stop. He’s… he’s everything to me. Even when he’s doing terrible things, I want to make excuses for him. I want to forgive…”
Bullshit. That was absolutely bullshit. Utsuro didn’t even consider Yuki to actually love Tsurugi, but when he thinks about the deadset desperation in Yuki’s eyes, the coldness of his voice and the screeching, the screaming, the absolute denial that Tsurugi would die, the adamancy in which Yuki believed Tsurugi would live… Utsuro covers his mouth with his hand.
Would someone do that much for someone they didn’t love…?
Perhaps Yuki’s love was shallow. Perhaps it was twisted. But… even through all of that, it was still love, wasn’t it?
When Utsuro stares at Yamato’s face, cheeks wet with tears as he gazes at Utsuro with a mix of fear, adoration and that godawful desperation, it slowly begins to click into place.
He had enjoyed his time with Yamato. He had only felt so bitter towards the ending, because of Yamato. If there was anyone in the world he hadn’t wanted using him, it was Yamato. Was that what this was? Disappointment beyond what Utsuro had felt before?
What the hell was Yamato doing to him?
“Utsuro?” Yamato says softly, and Utsuro jolts. He can’t look at him anymore. All these new feelings bubbling up in Utsuro’s throat, never felt before, was leaving him in absolute disgust.
…and yet it was exhilarating. Something new. Something worse than despair, something more grotesque, something that strangled him until he could be purple and red all over.
It was love, wasn’t it?