Work Text:
God, he’s such a fucking dumbass. With the way that idiot thinks, no one would ever assume that his grades are actually as high as mt. Fuji. The conversations we have can sometimes make me feel like I’m talking to a little kid, one that’s as high as a damn kite.
Fuck me, he’s just-
Fuyuhiko groans as he turns over for the millionth time, pulling his black, puffy duvet over his entire body and hugging himself underneath it until his grip hurts. He can’t sleep. His brain won’t let him stop thinking about his boyfriend.
Well, secret boyfriend. No, actually, it’s way more like a friend with benefits. A “we’re horny teenagers who happened to let things transpire once and now we can’t stop seeking it out” thing. Fuyuhiko just- he’s pretty damn sure he’s starting to-
Damn you, Kazuichi.
Heat flares up inside of him so bad that it makes his stomach ache. He throws the blanket off with force enough to kill, his back thudding as he rolls onto it, groaning again while covering his face. Fuck everything. He didn’t ask for this. That jackass started it. At a dumb party last year where he was forced to take a wasted mechanic back to his dorm. Fuyuhiko was so damn tired-so done- being one of the two resident sober classmates. He doesn’t know why he stayed there, or why he slept in his friend’s bed- why he didn’t protest when Kazuichi turned and began to kiss his neck.
Especially why he said nothing later and went along with it when he was first pulled aside. It’s still that idiot’s fault this began, his fault he feels this way. Soda Kazuichi will probably always be an endless source of confusion and frustration for him. He’s such a walking neon contradiction.
Yet he is his best friend. Someone…someone that makes him laugh so hard he chokes. Someone who lightens the heavy weight that is his life like no one else. Who makes him question everything about himself.
Ugh. Fuyuhiko runs his hands through his buzz cut before laying his arms out, staring at the ceiling. This is fucking horrible-truly devastating. One of the worst things that could have possibly happened to him, certainly not anything the Kuzuryuu heir should be thinking about or feeling. Nothing will come of whatever they have going on. He needs to make damn sure of that. He can’t ever be in an actual relationship with another guy. His feelings are just another fucking cruel twist of fate in his life that he has to ignore and move on from.
Problem is he doesn’t want to. Problem is it’s only getting worse, as evidenced by his lack of sleep.
But he’ll get there. Fuyuhiko could absolutely endure most anything, really, given time. Otherwise the kind of yakuza training he’s been through will be for nothing. He just needs to wait until the moment Kazuichi gets bored of (or unsatisfied with) a guy’s body. Until he asks to cut this off-when he decides to go back to being a perverted asshole to Sonia. He’s sure it won’t be long, as it’s not like he doesn’t talk about her still. In fact, Fuyuhiko’s probably being used as a substitute.
It’s weird, thinking that doesn’t actually bother him much. He supposes it might be because, in the end he might as well be using Kazuichi too, right? They’re both using each other to get off, right?
He doesn’t want to think anymore. Fuyuhiko sighs deeply, turning to his side again but leaving the covers off. He shuts his eyes, tries to clear his mind. Forcing himself to push away thoughts of Kazuichi this time. But it only ends up traveling down a dark road instead. It makes him recall things no person his age should be partaking in. He might act like he’s used to everything,(in a way he is, this life is all he knows) but that’s not true.
So much isn’t. He’s completely unworthy of being the heir. Who wants or needs a weak ass fag (apparently) as a yakuza head?
No one.
Cursing under his breath, he accepts defeat in the sleep department. Said defeat causes emotions he doesn’t feel like dealing with. It’s not the time for a breakdown-his last one wasn’t that long ago. God, he just wants to be unconscious, not thinking shit he shouldn’t be. That’s all.
Why is it too much to ask?
It’s times like this that his bed, oversized and probably worth more than his internal organs, feels like a grave. Where he goes to die every night; mentally and physically. Trapped alone with his stupid brain as it tells him everything he should have said or done differently.
He’d honestly prefer to be sleeping on his dorm room bed, (which he isn’t since Hope’s Peak’s dorm building is currently undergoing major plumbing repair. Everyone was shoved out for safety reasons. School was hence halted. It sucks.) at least if he was he’d be able to think of homework and class and generally not what’s going through his brain at the moment. Maybe.
But it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s not. And it’s not like he hasn’t “died” in his dorm before-a lesser grave is still a grave.
So he shifts onto his back again, only lies there, lies there.
Just as if he’s a fucking corpse.
Eventually, he gets bored enough to think about sliding a hand down his pants. Maybe an orgasm or two will make him fatigued, let him finally rest. It might numb everything a little. Fuyuhiko hums, accepting the idea easily, closing his eyes while sensually running fingers over his stomach. Slowly getting there. Automatically, he lets himself think about the last time he was with Kazuichi. Only because it’s the fastest way to-
A loud, annoying ring goes off. He growls out a swear as he leans towards the nightstand, where his phone sits. It’s Kazuichi. Which makes him feel unpleasant and guilty considering what he was just about to do. He groans again, rubbing a hand over his face before flipping open the device.
“The fuck could ya possib-“
There’s hiccupping. Ragged, labored breathing. It shocks him. Yes, he’s witnessed his friend upset before. But never like this. He sits up as his core fills with uneasiness. There’s blatant worry, but he also feels unsure. He doesn’t know how to console anyone. As a result his voice comes out more irritated than he really feels. “H-Hey. Hey, breathe. What’s goin’ on?”
“Sorry, I...shit, I can’t stop crying.” Fuyuhiko thinks Kazuichi says, the words so warped and wet they’re barely intelligible, “Look, my old man and I don’t exactly-“
A sharp inhale. “Just-he’s drunk off his ass. And I-I don’t wanna be here-never wanted to come back-I need ya to come get me.”
“Kaz. You have a truck.” It comes out rude, and he regrets it.
“That’s! He stole my keys!” Kazuichi shouts at the same time as a banging sound. Distant, back and forth yelling can be heard after. Another bang, background noises. Fuyuhiko can’t make out what’s said, or what happened. But when the mechanic’s voice comes back, he’s even more broken, sobbing through the speaker.
“It’s-it’s like he can read my mind when he’s like this-telling me everything I already know about myself-“
It stabs his heart. He wasn’t aware that Kazuichi’s father…he feels so torn. Fuyuhiko knows exactly what he’s talking about. He’s been through plenty of shit just like that as well. Times where his parents weren’t intoxicated, too. Still…he feels the need to refute it, for his sake.
“Shut up. Whatever the fuck he says to you is nonsense, believe me. Alcohol impairs people, nothin’ else. Just like any other damn substance. It’s a gateway, an excuse for em’ to stand on a damn mountain and scream whatever they want. Do whatever they want like it doesn’t have consequences. Like…” he pauses, the sound of tears only continuing, “Like they’re sayin’ take a fuckin’ look at me. Cuz I exist. My pain exists and I want ya to know it. Even though it’ll only do fuck all.”
Silence besides sniffles and coughs. Fuyuhiko sighs after a bit. “Where are you exactly? I’m not taking ya anywhere near where I live. But…I have a personal chauffeur. He’ll listen to me if I ask him to take ya to a motel. He has to.”
Kazuichi lets out a whimper-like sound.
“It’s fine, no one will know.”
“No, I just…I miss you, Hiko. Can’t you…”
His breath hitches. No. He shouldn’t. Fuyuhiko grits his teeth. But if he stays, he’ll just be staring at darkness or jerking off alone. Kazuichi’s voice is so sad and lonely. The thought of seeing him after weeks apart…makes him feel alive.
“Fine. Tell me the damn address.”
--
Fuyuhiko’s parents are currently out of the house, so he’s more relaxed as he sneaks around. The fact that it’s dark helps too. Having already ordered his driver to wait outside, he makes his way to Peko’s room. Because in case he’s out longer than he expects, he wants her to tell Natsumi not to worry. Besides, Peko is the only person who knows about whatever it is they have going on, since it’s pretty damn hard to keep anything from her. But Kazuichi got overly paranoid about the idea of her watching him, which led to telling her not to go near him. Of course she obeyed, yet Fuyuhiko can tell it’s difficult for her.
Still, the possibility of finding out his best friend has been killed for his protection-
It’s a personal fucking nightmare he doesn’t want to face. All the more reason they need to cut things off. He gets the brief thought of doing that tonight. If he can find the willpower.
Peko is awake and alert instantly once he knocks. He relays what he needs to, deciding to be vague for Kazuichi’s privacy. She may not want to show it, but he knows her too well. Knows she doesn’t like any of it, down to him wearing casual clothes out in public. So he says he’ll be careful before leaving.
It takes a good while to get to the neighborhood, find the right house. They all look so similar here, and in comparison to the manor he’s used to, very small. Once it’s found Fuyuhiko instructs his chauffeur to park somewhere they won’t be seen. He calls his friend to say where that is, and within ten minutes Kazuichi’s sprinting towards them. The garage light illuminating rain droplets as his schoolbag (which looks about as bloated as a bullfrog) sways against his right hip.
The warmth he gets in his chest when they first lock eyes is something he’d like to keep on feeling forever.
“Woah, look at you.” Kazuichi breathlessly remarks (presumably to the vehicle) as he plops in the backseat, shaking off water like a dog, “I haven’t gotten to see one’a these up close before.” He grins, and Fuyuhiko tries to smile back, though his focus stays on the obvious enough bruise adorning a cheek.
“T-Thanks a lot, man. I….I know how risk-“
“Save it.” He interjects with a shake of his head, “It’s already done.”
I would do anything for you. It’s a thought that he wishes wasn’t true. But it takes the form of an offer to pay for whatever kind of motel or hotel Kazuichi wants to stay at. No limits, no conditions. He’s very surprised when it’s denied, the mechanic insisting on paying for his room himself, that he doesn’t really need anything extravagant.
Fuyuhiko sighs but relents. They hence end up finding a 24-hour motel within his friend’s price range, which isn’t….well, it’s not where Fuyuhiko would choose to stay. It’s a good thing he’s not. To be honest, though, he has half a mind to send someone out here to look after him.
They park, Kazuichi stepping out and walking up to the passenger window. Fuyuhiko rolls it down automatically.
“What?”
“You’re not gonna come in with me?”
He looks away, grumbling. “I-I...wasn’t plannin’ on it.” Please don’t ask me to stay. The only clothes he has are what he’s wearing. He doesn’t have a toothbrush-doesn’t have the mental strength to outright deny him right now.
Kazuichi fidgets, generally looking uncomfortable. Blushing. “I mean-I guess…I just assumed since-“
He quickly clears his throat, a reminder that they’re not alone. The mechanic laughs nervously, eyeing the man in the front seat. Fuyuhiko contemplates for a long moment, a fierce battle of heart and mind going on inside him. Then he sighs, gestures at his chauffeur that it’s okay to leave, (who already knows to be quiet about this) and wordlessly exits the car.
But he’s fucking irritated about this so he punches Kazuichi’s bicep. Not waiting for a response as he begins the trek to the motel. It’s always this asshole’s fault.
There’s a yelp behind him. “Hey- can you blame me?! It’s the perfect setting! We haven’t seen each other for weeks!”
“Shut the fuck up. Setting my ass. You just can’t not think with your dick.”
“But doesn’t this mean you are too?”
“I said shut up.” He growls, rapping that arm a second time.
--
Going by the outside of this place, Fuyuhiko wouldn’t have been surprised if it’d been musty and infested with cockroaches. But it’s not as bad as that, just a simple motel room. It has a TV, its own bathroom with a shower, and of course the patented two twin-sized beds. Those western-style kind that have probably been through unspeakable horrors and crazy, nasty kinks or roleplays. Fuyuhiko has luckily never had to set foot in one until now, but his parents have gone overseas (all around the world, to be honest. They’ve gone on plenty of trips without him and his sister. For a variety of reasons. His father alone even more so). They’ve complained before about rarely being forced to lay low, hiding from either the police or someone they pissed off. Mrs. Kuzuryuu hates motels with a fiery passion.
So, he had been holding overly negative expectations. Yet it’s clean, and as Fuyuhiko goes to check the closest bed for stains, he notices that the quilt he picks up is probably handmade. Someone has apparently put a little TLC into this place.
There’s a thump as he watches a full schoolbag land on the mattress. Kazuichi unzips it, starts to rummage through what’s obviously clothes and other things he finds important. That includes some sort of small mechanical project, it seems. Fuyuhiko also eyes what looks like a fidget toy.
“I’m gonna go brush an’ remove my contacts. Um, after…you’re sur-“
“I’m here aren’t I?” Fuyuhiko interrupts in a whisper, not wanting to voice the fact that yes, he’d like to do this. If he did give what is his very eager consent, it’d make it too real.
His skin must have flushed, as he feels warm, and Kazuichi looks the same. They stare for a second.
“…Y-Yeah, you are.”
Fuyuhiko darts his gaze away then. I never start shit, but I’ve also never stopped you. It’s probably so damn confusing, knowing you. I’m sorry Kaz. I..I wish I could fucking tell you how much I want you. But I can’t. I won’t.
It wouldn’t be good for either of us.
The other does nothing but leave when silence follows. So he climbs on the bed, makes himself as comfortable as possible. He wonders if what went down at the Soda household has something to do with Kazuichi getting ready for bed this late. Though, he does know how much of a night owl his friend is. That’s why he thought he called about something stupid at first.
Fuyuhiko spends the rest of the wait convincing himself to talk to Kazuichi once he comes back. They need to stop after tonight. He can’t take this anymore. What was he thinking earlier? He can’t just wait for his sex appeal to dissolve from Kazuichi’s horny brain. They’re only hurting themselves. Even if Fuyuhiko will be hurting either way. Which is all the more reason that he should choose to hurt while moving on, instead of hurting worse in the future once he’s not enough anymore. Or if in the future, they’re found out.
When Kazuichi strolls out of the bathroom, he doesn’t say anything as he puts his stuff away. Fuyuhiko isn’t compelled to speak yet either, only trying to steal glances at blue-gray eyes. The real color of those irises, color that (out of their class anyway) only he has seen.
Of course it’s not something he’d ever voice, but they’re beautiful. He can’t fathom why Kazuichi would choose to change that part-perhaps just for consistency actually. Regardless, whatever negative thing Kazuichi may think of his original appearance, Fuyuhiko is positive he’s wrong about it. In fact, he doesn’t know if he could live through seeing him like that. But he’s still jealous of whoever will get to, whatever girl his friend ends up marrying. Kazuichi probably won’t ever understand just how lucky that woman will be.
Fuyuhiko sighs deeply, stopping his dumb thoughts before they get worse. If they aren’t a fucking confirmation of his feelings, he doesn’t know what else could be.
By the time a pair of glasses are set on a nightstand, and a bag is closed and tossed to the floor, Kazuichi (who’s in nothing but a tank top and boxers) is crawling up to sit beside him on the bed.
A head is set on his shoulder, making him grunt. “I thought ya wanted to get right down to it.”
Kazuichi grumbles. “I’m just a lil’ nervous. Give me a sec to think of what I want this time.”
Fuyuhiko has always just let him do whatever, so that request isn’t weird. He’s repeatedly expressed that it’s up to him. He doesn’t care. Hands, mouth, simply just grinding their bodies together. They’re all equally wonderful because it’s Kazuichi. Hell, he wouldn’t be against taking his ass virginity. He’s very shamefully thought about that before, while jerking off. The supplies for it are most likely in the nightstand drawer, if the owner of this place is like the vibes he got earlier.
…thinking about him fucking me instead isn’t half bad either.
Not like it’ll happen though, as whoever the bottom is would need to shower, and he’s sure they don’t have the patience for that. Plus, they aren’t….real boyfriends, they haven’t even kissed. It’d be a bit too much, only make things worse. Nevertheless, he starts to get hot. He’s sure Kazuichi can feel his heartbeat.
He thinks of his friend’s words. This time.
Therefore, he shuffles so Kazuichi isn’t leaning on him anymore.
A disappointed noise. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“I’m a yakuza heir, Kaz. I never shoulda let you touch me at all, and ya fuckin’ know it. You have to know that.”
He doesn’t bother looking at Kazuichi’s face, as he can tell he’s dejected. “I do. I think about it a lot. I-I…ruined things for you.”
“You did.”
Those words cause a whimper. “So you…wanna stop.” There’s no question there, like he already knows it’s true.
Fuyuhiko breathes in deep, steels himself. “I’m here tonight, so it’s whatever the hell you want. But after, yeah. We’re done.”
He finally looks at him. Kazuichi’s brows are furrowed, and he watches as he hugs his knees. “Okay, but…why don’t ya ever say no if…if you-”
Because I think I might love you. “Stress relief.” He lies, “Teenager shit. I wanna get off, same as you.”
He turns towards him. “T-That’s…”
“Am I fuckin’ wrong?”
Kazuichi frantically shakes his head. “No, but…it’s not only that.”
Fuyuhiko snorts, irritated. “Somethin’ to do with Sonia for you?”
A heavy flinch. “What?! Don’t bring her into this! I don’t think about her when I’m with ya if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”
He intensely glares, not believing him, mouth frowning.
Kazuichi sighs. “A-Anymore...after we did it a lot, and being away from her lately, I realized my feelings weren’t…good. Or real. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Fuyuhiko’s floored, as that answer actually seems sincere. He never thought the day would come that this idiot got a clue. He wants to ask so many questions. But he won’t pry.
Silence hence comes over them, both just sitting in the dimly lit room, staring at nothing for what seems like eternity. Until Kazuichi clears his throat, moves closer again. “Hiko?”
Fuyuhiko almost fell asleep, surprisingly, so his voice is raspy. “Yeah?”
“If this is…the last time, can I ask for anythin’?”
It’s said in a tone that he hasn’t heard from Kazuichi before. He gulps, but slowly nods. His friend begins to shake and tremble in a way that makes him want to become emotional.
Because those beautiful irises get misty. “C-Can I kiss you?”
Golden eyes go wide. If his heart was beating fast earlier, it’s practically vibrating now. He feels hotter than he’s ever felt before, warmth pooling in his gut. Fuck. Does he…
It doesn’t matter. Whatever Kazuichi’s reason, Fuyuhiko can’t help himself. “Go ahead.” He says, voice so eager it hurts to speak,” I told ya it’s whatever you want.” Fuck yes, of course you can! Kiss me dead, Kazuichi. Please.
His friend’s weight is on him before he knows it, almost like he heard his thoughts. Kazuichi’s lips are clumsy, fast, and the rhythm is not good at all, immediately clashing teeth and cutting skin because of shark-like points. But it’s still so fucking passionate he sees stars, moaning with every tiny movement and warm slip of tongue. Letting himself get lost, his hands find pink hair and stay there. Desperately clutching, not wanting to let go.
It’s something he thought he would never get to do. So once Kazuichi gets winded he harshly retaliates right back, kissing to the best of his ability. Inevitably trying to let his feelings speak for themselves.
--
It’s a shame. It’s really a damn shame that there’s no such thing as fate. Some dumb red string connecting them both so that whatever happens, they’ll end up together eventually. Because if Fuyuhiko didn’t fucking know better, he’d believe it was destiny to be where he is now. Here as he effortlessly, completely worships Kazuichi’s body. Like his mouth is meant to fit perfectly around him. Like his tongue is supposed to taste the salt of his skin, to easily find those sensitive spots that make him melt, make his hands grip tighter to his scalp as his hips absently buck upwards. Like Fuyuhiko’s hands just magically know what to fondle, to cradle like they’re the most precious objects on earth. And like his ears were made to hear his name breathlessly, pathetically fall into the air, that sweet high-pitched voice causing shivers down his spine.
But it’s the way Fuyuhiko’s throat slides without a single gag (or otherwise problem) once Kazuichi gets close, losing control over himself, that the thought of them being soulmates doesn’t seem far off. Golden eyes roll back into his head with the sensation, no longer having to only move on his own. He loudly moans as Kazuichi swears while announcing his release.
Fuyuhiko savors every bit of the aftermath.
After removing himself and wiping his lips, he leans back down to softly kiss his stomach, clean anything leftover. Kazuichi hums appreciatively through his heaving breaths. “H-How the hell are you always…” He pauses, “So fucking good at that?”
Fuyuhiko laughs but only keeps on loving his friend’s lower belly. Because I wanna be. For you and only you. There also might have been some solo practice he doesn’t want to recall. Being sexual soulmates is an ideal excuse but it’s just not true, unfortunately. It really is a shame, as even though Kazuichi is not the best at everything, he still feels the best he ever has when he’s with him. He came twice during his friend’s turn tonight. That doesn’t usually happen to people during a single blowjob. Especially by someone who’s always mostly focused on not chomping the appendage off with his shark teeth.
“Seriously, it’s not like you’re blowin’ other people. O-Or are ya?”
He stops. “Fuck no. I’m not g-“
“Oh. So only my dick appeals to ya then?”
No. He just doesn’t like the label. And he can’t ever actually use it anyway.
He chuckles more before biting a little too close to his groin.
“Hey!” Kazuichi yelps, grabbing his head with both hands, forcing him to lift up. They’re both grinning, eyes shining as they look at each other. But it’s in that moment that they slowly lose any expression. Reality of this final time catching up to them.
“Ya know, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel as good with someone else, Hiko.” That’s said while two thumbs rub his cheeks.
He snorts and pushes hands away, his heart sinking to the floor. “Don’t say shit like that.” Don’t make me think you like me too. I can’t take it. Fuyuhiko then promptly sits up and hops off the bed. “I’m showerin’. You should too, you reek like dry cum.”
Kazuichi whines like a baby. “Nooo I don’t wanna.”
“Kaz. Don’t fuckin’ test me.”
“You’re the one who got it all over my face! You should wash it off.”
“I wouldn’t have cum twice if you weren’t so-“ Fuyuhiko stops mid-sentence. No way he was just about to call this idiot cute. Or hot. He doesn’t really know which to be honest.
Kazuichi seems confused for a spilt-second, but then blushes and giggles as he gives a sly expression. “I really do it for ya that well, huh?”
Fuyuhiko flushes too, unable to not show amusement in his reply. “Dumbass. You still better wash your crusty-ass hair.”
“Who says I got crusty ass hair?!”
He joins Kazuichi’s laughter with a loud cackle. “Me. Take a damn shower.”
A playful smirk. “Only if you kiss me first.”
He steps up, obliging without thinking. It’s a fast cheek peck, but Kazuichi’s still stunned by it. Blue-gray eyes stare with some type of longing. “…I’m gonna miss this.”
The mood drops instantly for Fuyuhiko. He deeply regrets doing that. So he doesn’t say anything else as he quickly leaves for the bathroom. The hot water that pelts his back is thankfully louder than the muffled sounds of equally hot tears. He won’t let him know he feels the same. But it is true.
He knows he’ll miss these moments right after like hell.
--
When Fuyuhiko leaves the bathroom, no words are exchanged. Kazuichi doesn’t even look at him before standing to go take his place. To be honest, he’s still feeling dumb residual emotions, and if it’s showing on his face, he’d rather not be seen.
His friend’s bag is again taking up space on the closer bed, so Fuyuhiko moves to get in the one they just used. There’s a few left over crumpled up tissues on the sheets, (kind of odd since he uh…did that today. Maybe Kazuichi decided he wasn’t done?) effectively irritating him. He instantly yells over the shower spray about having to clean up Kazuichi’s mess. Just for good measure he removes the top sheet entirely, throwing it to the floor. Then he simply lays down smack dab in the middle, pulling the cover up and over his shoulder. Tucking his feet in as well.
It's interesting, because he didn’t expect this patchwork quilt to be as nice as it’s currently making him feel. Fuyuhiko is used to sleeping with and or on expensive, silky fabrics. So it’s just weird that here of all places, cotton sheets and a heavy quilt, plus the slight smell of sweat coming from said sheets, is causing him to…
He yawns, shutting his eyes after. He must be even more tired then he feels, as the sound of water easily helps lull him to sleep.
It’s with a jolt that he wakes, anxiety filling his stomach because of the sudden feel of the bed moving as it gets hit with weight. Before his groggy brain can process a proper reaction, there’s arms wrapping around him. Fuyuhiko can sense dampness which he expects is hair, so he calms down a little knowing it’s Kazuichi.
Only a little. His heart is now pounding in a different way, yet it manifests as anger. “Why-“
“Cuz you’re here.”
The response is small, so much that he’s not even sure he heard him correctly. Regardless, he really wants to reject this. He can already tell it’ll be something else to miss, even just after the first experience. If he lets Kazuichi hold him like this, then there’s a good chance he’ll never have a good fucking night’s sleep again. He grumbles, grabs one of those forearms.
“Get the fuck off me.”
The grip becomes tighter as Kazuichi presses against the back of his neck, as he tries to tangle their legs. “Sorry…sorry.”
Fuyuhiko has the feeling he’s apologizing for something else. If the crack in his voice is any indication. He apparently isn’t letting go. “Damn it Kaz.” Slips out against his will. You just had to…no, I just fucking had to-
A very strangled breath. “I-I’m sorry.”
With that Fuyuhiko just turns to face him, burying his face in his chest and completing the puzzle that is their legs. Even he has limits, and his friend has now pushed him over the edge.
“Shut up. I get it.”
Kazuichi whimpers but snuggles close as possible. Two broken hearts notice one another for the first time. They beat as one.
Yeah, Fuyuhiko will never sleep this good again.
--
In the early hours of morning, he relishes it. Fuyuhiko lets himself indulge in soft thoughts because they’ve already gone this far. Might as well enjoy what he can. So golden eyes continue to smile as they watch the mechanic breathe, slow and deep, slightly snoring.
It’s such a damn cute sound.
He’s cute in general. He admits that solemnly to himself as he reaches up to brush against a cheek, pushing pink hair from his face. How did he fall for this moron anyway? Is it his crazy looks? His bright, sometimes squeaky laughter? His talent?
Whatever the reason, now that Fuyuhiko knows what he knows, it’s like he can feel it in the air; in the way the covers lay around Kazuichi’s figure. In how if he tries to move away at all, those arms will pull him closer again. He shuffles so he’s level with his face, then leans in to kiss him. There’s no reaction, just sound sleep.
A tear stings the corner of his eye once he pulls back. He wishes he had the will to just say how he feels, despite the fact that they can’t be a thing. That he had the strength to let his friend confess properly, too. But he doesn’t want to make it real. If it’s out in the open at all, then he’s terrified someone else will catch on. He can’t let anything happen to Kazuichi, and that means keeping their mouths shut about shit like feelings or acting like they have them.
Still, knowing that it’s reciprocated even a little is simultaneously the best and worst feeling. Fuyuhiko can’t help but be awed that he could be liked that way at all. It makes him feel high, yet the fact that he feels good makes him think that he shouldn’t. That he should just be angry and brush it off entirely since he has no intention of making his own feelings clear.
Fuyuhiko wipes his face. He breathes in deeply, deciding it’s time. The longer he stays, the harder it’ll be to let go. He carefully removes himself from the embrace without stirring him. He then goes to bring the quilt up further, making sure Kazuichi’s comfortable.
Fuyuhiko finds his pants (which he had left on the floor after last night’s shower) and pulls them on. He washes his face, generally tries to look less bedridden before searching for his phone.
The call to his chauffeur is fast and easy.
His gaze inevitably lingers on the sleeping form when the car arrives. His heart desperately wants to say or do something more before leaving, at least say goodbye to the awake version of him. It feels as if he’s leaving a jigsaw puzzle unfinished, but he won’t let his heart control him. That kiss earlier was too much already.
What he does do is leave a voicemail while being driven away.
“Call if you need a ride. See ya at school.”
--
Yelling. Loud and angry, arguing voices. The sound of breaking glass.
His head hurts. There’s blood dripping. Fuyuhiko can’t tell where from, but it’s his. What he does know is that he’s in a hallway of the manor, but otherwise his vision keeps on fading in and out, disorienting him. He can’t remember how he got like this. He tries to look around, towards the commotion. It’s his family. His parents, sister. He doesn’t hear or see Peko. If Natsumi’s being punished, he needs to find her. He won’t let her get hurt.
Fuyuhiko will take whatever it is instead. Actually, maybe he already tried.
That’s his goal, but everything in front of him is still blurry, dark as his pulse throbs loudly in his ears. He attempts to find light sources, securing one when he spots rays of sunlight through a window. The bright light helps him see, and he’s only now noticing that he’s on his knees. Pain shoots through his chest, makes it hard to breathe as he stands. He puts a hand to it, finding that there’s more than one blood source.
Then catches a glimpse of his sister, also wounded. More scared than he’s ever seen her. She isn’t too far from him, though still out of reach. Fuyuhiko calls out, tells her to just run, to get the fuck out. Natsumi swears at him, says it doesn’t concern him and tells him to do the same.
A flying object hits the wall between them and shatters. They duck as well as possible, but a piece still grazes one of his forearms along with her cheek. The booming, serious voice of the Kuzuryuu head shouts with clear intent from where he stands at the end of the hallway. Fuyuhiko doesn’t know what Natsumi did, but their father still plans on hurting her further. Despite his poor vision and shaking legs, he puts himself in front.
She again says to leave, that she doesn’t need protection, to just go to Hope’s Peak. It takes him aback a bit, as he most definitely forgot that they’re supposed to return to school today. All the more reason for Natsumi to get there first. She has a bad enough reputation with the staff, but he could probably get by okay if he fell a little behind.
Time seems to slow when the yells turn into threats against him instead. Words that tell him to step aside, that he apparently doesn’t want to hurt him. Even though he already has. Natsumi swears from behind him, but he hears her run off to where their mother is (who has been continually barking obscenities at her husband, like always. But she never actually bites. Because of her hesitance, Fuyuhiko actually has less respect for her than his father. At least the clan head does what he says he will.)
Fuyuhiko doesn’t hold anything against his little sister for running. She knows he has a higher pain tolerance, after all. He firmly pleads to the figure before him to let him take full blame for whatever it is he’s mad at her about. And he means it. It’s what he wants, he tells himself, as he braces for it.
But he shakes when he knows for a fact his request is accepted. His bleeding body and fearful mind implore him to get out of the house. It’s hard to ignore, as he still feels as though he could faint at any moment. But his heart, though pounding, stubbornly holds its ground. He will protect his sister.
At any cost.
Mr. Kuzuryuu is close now. He continues to step forward, so Fuyuhiko automatically steps backward. His back touches the wall. Then he’s unexpectedly grabbed by the shoulders and thrown to the floor. The already present wound on his head makes it so he starts to get dizzy once more.
He’s beyond pissed as he fades in and out of consciousness. His father walks away from him as Fuyuhiko only bleeds on the carpet.
Bastard! He fucking tricked me!
He tries desperately to get up. His body doesn’t listen.
No! Come on, get up!
Drops of blood mess with his vision even more, yet he sees it as Natsumi’s hit. His mother screams her name and continues to generally yell at the man. Doing nothing useful.
Get up get up get up!!
Fuyuhiko’s no different than the old hag. All talk. No actual fighting back.
Weak. I’m weak. Is his last hazy thought before fainting.
--
Fuyuhiko returns to Hope’s Peak. His sister doesn’t. She’s staying home to recover with the clan’s personal doctors. He wonders what kind of excuse his parents will give for her absence. To be perfectly honest he probably could benefit from rest too. He and Peko did their best to clean and re-dress his wounds this morning, and he did also take medication, but he isn’t feeling like himself. His head is the worst pain-wise, and he thinks it’s what’s causing him to feel off. Although he’s also feeling like dogshit mentally. He wanted to do so much more. Why couldn’t he just get the fuck up to protect Natsumi? He’s so damn weak. Not good enough. Too similar to his mother. Those are the only thoughts on his mind, as he slowly treks with his bodyguard to class. Normally they’d take separate paths to not come off as close. But he wants Peko with him today. He doesn’t trust himself to able to defend well right now.
His mind eventually conjures an image of Kazuichi. He’s going to see him. He’s walking straight to him. It’s what keeps his feet steadily moving forward.
Both of them are happily greeted by the class and Chisa, the last to arrive. Everyone seems to be in good spirits, and that makes him happy. They do, however, notice the obvious bandage wrapped around his forehead. He gives the easy excuse of falling and hitting his head, insists that he’s fine. But two of them seem to see past it. Mikan and Kazuichi. The nurse looks at him much like a concerned mom who knows her son is lying, whereas his best friend keeps looking at the floor instead of smiling at him. He knows he’s suspecting something’s wrong. There’s no time for them to talk to him before their teacher silences the room and begins. Fuyuhiko’s very grateful that they were late.
He manages to make it through. It’s just a simple test of willpower and he’s usually pretty damn good at those. It’s only when they’re dismissed, and he stands, that everything spins. Fuyuhiko falls to one knee, grabbing his head with a grunt. Mikan’s the first one to rush over, taking out a water bottle from her schoolbag. By the time he drinks some of it, Peko’s helping him up. Everyone else stares with lost expressions as Chisa orders the two girls to take him to the infirmary. He lets them, but still walks on his own, aggressively refusing to lean on them. His vision again betrays him by staying somewhat blurry.
When they get there, Fuyuhiko asks Peko to stand guard outside. Mikan doesn’t question it, only occupied with looking him over once he sits on a bed. She removes all his bandages and cleans the wounds way better than anyone else has so far. After replacing the dressings she informs him about a few things he already knows. That the head cut is deeper and therefore worse than the wounds on his chest and his forearm, and that he’ll probably be at risk of more dizzy spells or even fainting until it heals.
But he’s pissed when she also says that he might be prone to higher emotions during this time. His yelling scares her, but apparently he’s only proving her point. After snapping, his head throbs as he gets disoriented again. Mikan grabs a small carton of orange juice from the office’s little fridge, tells him to stay put until he finishes it. Then she leaves, stuttering about having to get back to class.
For a few minutes, there’s just silence as he sips from the carton.
Then he catches a familiar voice from outside. The voice argues with Peko, sounding fear-ridden but determined to get in. “It’s fine. Let him in.” Fuyuhiko shouts, the person he knows is there stepping in with a nervous smile.
“Hey, Hiko.”
He can’t help but soften at the sight of him. It’s been a few more weeks since the motel. Kazuichi didn’t call him for a ride. He didn’t call him at all. It made him wonder if he was easier to move on from than he first suspected. At least that’s what he wants to think. Currently though, Fuyuhiko’s questioning how he got back here. Bus, maybe? Does he have enough necessities in that bag to get back into school life?
Kazuichi fidgets by shifting his weight. “So…how bout’ the new dorm building, huh? They really uh…renovated.”
He nods, taking a drink. “It is a lot better than before.”
“Yep.”
They fall into quiet for a long time. It becomes beyond awkward. Fuyuhiko can tell there’s much more on his friend’s mind. But the mechanic continues to procrastinate, so eventually it boils over and his head hurts and he-
“….I’m weaker than I should be.”
“W-What?”
He snorts. “You fuckin’ heard me. I can never do anythin’ like a proper yakuza… I hesitate.” He feels weird, fuzzy. There’s suddenly more than just dizziness clouding his vision. “J-Just…I’m just as useless as my mother. I don’t deserve to be the fuckin’ heir or be a damn ultimate here.” His words are whispers, only enough for his best friend to hear. He doesn’t know why he said them, but he finds that it wasn’t as painful as he thought it’d be to admit.
Kazuichi looks utterly dumbfounded. “You? weak?!”
A groan as he wipes his face. “God, if you’re gonna be a dick-“
“I’m not! I-I-just….“
“What?!”
He flinches, looking away. “Y-You’re the toughest person I know. I can’t help thinkin’ what kinda monster was able to do that to ya. I’m shocked, not like…disappointed.”
Golden eyes go wide. Fuyuhiko almost even drops his juice. His friend blushes, continues before he can react further. “You’re so confident. Brave. Ya never let anyone push ya around.” He chuckles a bit, “I mean, you weren’t the one who couldn’t stop sobbing through the phone. You aren’t the one who lets every tiny, unexpected thing completely destroy him! You’re strong, and unafraid. T-That’s why I…I-“
Fuyuhiko slams the carton on a nearby counter, making Kazuichi yelp. “You’re wrong!”
“No you are! You’re special to us all. Not one person in our class sees ya like that. It’s way more of a me thing, really…everyone knowing how c-cowardly I am and junk, ya know?”
He swears under his breath. Such cheesy fucking words are making him cry in front of someone he has feelings for, his head wants to implode from pain, and he’s trying to say he’s not weak? He is fucking weak. Because everything’s breaking. He can’t see well, from both tears and disorientation. He’s never told anyone his deepest insecurities. He doesn’t understand why he did. He….he’s overwhelmed. He’s never felt this way before and doesn’t like it.
There’s another bout of silence. Kazuichi looks pretty concerned, but he doesn’t make any move to be comforting or console him as Fuyuhiko cries. More than he ever has, but quiet as possible. Once it lessens, he wants something. But he doesn’t know how to ask.
“Lock the door.”
“H-Huh? Why?”
He sniffles. “Fuckin’ do it.”
Kazuichi hence turns, walks over to the door and does just that.
“Com’ere.”
A blush. “Ya know that class already-“
“Come here.”
Once he’s close enough, Fuyuhiko pulls him down into an embrace, hiding in his chest. The slight smell of oil comforts him instantly. Kazuichi seems nervous, and he assumes it’s because he’s never hugged him on his own accord before. Or maybe it’s because he’s injured.
“I don’t want to be alone. Hold me until someone yells at us.” He says as he forces arms to wrap around him. His friend relaxes and listens, even taking it further by leading him back onto the white bed. Kazuichi makes sure not to bother his chest wound, making him hum when he notices. There’s suddenly a worried expression. It’s probably jarring that he’s acting so different right now.
“Are you…okay?”
Shit. He’s getting stupidly emotional again, as his head throbs more. He squeezes him tightly, his voice coming out shaky. “Fuck no! I am afraid. I d-don’t show it but I’m so fucking afraid-“
Kazuichi retaliates as he rubs his back. “Shh. You don’t need to say more, I get it.”
Fuyuhiko knows that’s true. His friend has just as many layers to him, a lot of emotional walls and paranoia. They’re both broken in that way. Maybe their understanding of each other is really what sparked any feelings.
Fuyuhiko sighs into the clothed body of his partner, feeling an intense warmth inside him that causes those clothes to become wet. It’s such a bittersweet couple of tears this time. Even if he only experienced it once, he missed this soothing touch as soon as he left it in the motel. Honestly, he’d really like to say something soft and sweet, like I missed you so much, or I still need you, because it’s true. But even under the delirium of his injury, he can’t bring himself to.
The one thing that does escape his lips in a chant, is the phrase-
“Don’t let go.”
Please don’t ever let me go.