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tampered2006-11-09 03:12 am
saccharine-end.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-11-09 03:12 am
Log, Complete.
When: Afternoon of Nov. 6th
Rating: PG/PG-13 (at most)
Characters: Tatsumi Seiichirou [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thrifty_shadow] and Asato Tsuzuki [saccharine_end]
Summary: Tsuzuki finally makes it home after spending the day...elsewhere.
Note(s): Takes place after this thread and before this.
Log:
Tired, so…
Tsuzuki slumped heavily against the door of apartment eighteen in the second building, barely managing to catch himself as complete exhaustion settled in. His brain was mercifully numb; so blissful because he didn’t want to think of anything at that moment. Not now, when he’d just…
A shudder tore through him, biting hard at his conscience even as he forced his fingers to move, to twist the knob and push the door open. Inside, it was dark. Dark like Tatsumi’s shadows, like the unexplained emotion twisting in his stomach at the thought of hours priors. And it was because of such a thing he hadn’t gone to Hisoka, tired of hurting, of abusing whatever it was that lay between them now. The empath had quit. How could there be nothing left of anything? Even if they weren’t at Meifu, filing cases, and following routine, did all of it mean…nothing?
Only Tatsumi was here now. Empty, cold.
“I’m home,” he choked out, stumbling a little as he tried to find the light switch. But his fatigue won out, Tsuzuki leaning against the wall instead, caught between sliding to the floor to sleep and crying.
--
The shadows informed him of his co-worker's arrival. A quiet whisper, a soft touch, and Tatsumi was jarred from his thoughts. Blinking away from the refrigerator and finally pushing the door closed, he turned to the direction of the door.
It was dark.
He knew Tsuzuki was home. He didn't doubt his shadows. That knowledge, however, only served to worry him. He willed for the shadows to switch the lights on, and as light began to flood the room, he eyed the slumped form of Tsuzuki against the wall.
His heart sunk. He suddenly felt like rushing towards his friend's side, but common sense won out and instead, he calmed himself and walked towards the fallen shinigami. He placed a hand on Tsuzuki's arm, shaking him softly. "Tsuzuki…"
--
He made the softest sound in the back of this throat the moment he was touched, jerking reflexively away, afraid the other would be able to see it all if he looked at him. The terrible things he’d done, mostly out of kindness. So, he didn’t, content with staring at the carpet on the floor and how he suddenly had the urge to take his shoes off. Because he’d forgotten, and one should never forget…
Tsuzuki shuddered, doing his best to ignore the brush of Tatsumi’s fingers along his arm, the bare skin since he’d pushed up the sleeves of the sweater. Hot, dying from the inside out. He was cold, and he wondered if the other shinigami could warm him.
“I’m sleepy,” came the murmur, soft in its hesitance, even as he leaned over to pull at the laces of gym shoes. All these things he’d acquired from the City, a comfort he never really bothered with back home. But at what price? When he’d lost Hisoka, and that Tatsumi didn’t want him either.
There was nothing to go back to, and his eyes burned.
--
Tatsumi knelt down and placed his other hand on Tsuzuki's other shoulder. He made the shinigami turn towards him, concern etched on his face.
"Tsuzuki… are you alright?" he began and feared the answer to the question he was going to ask next. "Did…. Did something happen?" His voice turned bitter, and he hoped that nothing had happened but he knew better. Nothing made Tsuzuki like this… and….
He was going to make it right this time.
--
Natural reaction to shake his head, mumble something under his breath, and smile at the other without really looking. He couldn’t look, taboo. And it burned him with a cold chill that made him outwardly shudder, how the guilt just ate and ate at him until there was nothing left but a blank void.
It was so…frustrating, but he didn’t have the energy to be angry. He didn’t have the energy for anything, couldn’t even feel properly. Except those things, and…why were his shikigami so quiet? Tsuzuki didn’t like such silence, even when he was so close to Tatsumi and could hear him breathing, heard the concern in his voice as he spoke to him.
“Just a little tired,” he managed, shaking his head and pulling his shoes off, apathetically dumping them wherever they landed the moment they left his feet. Then, unexpectedly, he was leaning into the kagetsukai, wanting contact but hating the way his skin crawled.
Not Tatsumi’s fault. Not…
“…hold me” And his voice was barely audible.
--
So Tsuzuki wasn't going to tell him, was he? Well, Tatsumi could play along. He smiled gently and looked around before suddenly feeling the urge to wrap Tsuzuki around something. He willed his shadow to take a blanket from the bedrooms and he gently wrapped it around Tsuzuki after his shadows handed it to him.
"Did you go out to drink…?" he questioned quietly, reaching out to caress Tsuzuki's cheeks gently. "Do you need anything? Water…?"
--
The blanket didn’t help, Tatsumi’s shadows somehow drawing out the shot nerves in his body, the tremble almost fierce as he leaned heavily into the palm against his face. So warm, heat soaking into him. It was unbearable how beautiful it was, the sensation coursing straight to his toes, soothing but not quite. And if it could be this way with a simple touch, perhaps the other could make him forget the feel of chilled lips and murmured words.
No matter how much he’d enjoyed it. Someone touching him.
“No.” His voice was quiet as he focused his gaze, staring at Tatsumi’s glasses, the way they hid the blue of his eyes. Tatsumi’s so pretty… He whimpered, licking slowly at his mouth, swallowing harshly even as the words fell from his lips in some strained tone that almost didn’t sound like him. “I…I love you.”
And before he could think, thoughts still gratefully numb, he tilted his head closer for a kiss.
--
Tatsumi didn't resist the kiss; in fact, he relished it. However, as soon as it was over, he gently pushed Tsuzuki away and made sure his eyes met with the other. "Tsuzuki, tell me what's wrong," he said seriously. As much he had… loved … hearing those words out of Tsuzuki's mouth, he wasn't sure what it had taken him to say that. It wasn't that he was being… needy, or anything, but, something wasn't right. Tsuzuki… didn't…. wouldn't say that. Not now. Not unless something forced him to come to terms with that and even then….
He sighed and leaned forward to press a kiss on the other shinigami's forehead before pulling him close again for a hug. "Please tell me, Tsuzuki," he whispered into his hair as he held Tsuzuki close. While doing so, the faintest of whispers - almost like a breathe, seemed to brush in his ears. Quick. Simple. Two words.
He's lying.
--
Surely this was an act brought on by the exhaustion rendering him useless against Tatsumi. Surely.
But even as the words fell from the other shinigami’s mouth, Tsuzuki’s eyes forced to watch the encompassing blue he thought so pretty, still so normal compared to his own, he felt drained. The desperation to feel rather than to know continued dissolving whatever awareness he’d dragged up, having spent the entirety of the day wandering the City, watching and looking. Such mock happiness, this place so condescending. It hated him, hated him enough to play with him, and the urge to cry was even stronger because of it.
“Nothing,” he muttered, shuddering beneath the blanket, at Tatsumi’s closeness and the touch of lips to his forehead. Almost nervously, he licked at the corner of his mouth, far too gone in himself to even give his companion another look with such disgusting eyes.
Why am I…how could you even stand this? Because it hadn’t helped him feel, hadn’t brought Joshua any comfort whatsoever. So it seemed. So everything seemed, and if he couldn’t do anything to soothe whatever pain he noticed, Tatsumi didn’t need him either. Tatsumi was so much stronger, and here he was, almost curled up around himself under the blanket, leaning against him as he was held. On the verge of crying.
His fingers squeezed at his wrist, pain flaring.
“…I just wanted to tell you.” Tatsumi, please…
--
He'd felt like his whole being was sucked by those words. Tsuzuki wasn't telling. It was final. Still, it hurt. A part of him wanted to believe Tsuzuki had meant those words, while another part vehemently told him Tsuzuki was just tired from whatever damned ordeal he had been forced to endure while he was here, checking their pantry for supplies and cleaning. And Tsuzuki wouldn't even give him the consolation of knowing if anything happened just so he could stop assuming. And hoping. And hurting.
"Hush…. It's alright. You can sleep." Tatsumi began drawing circles with his palm on Tsuzuki's back, in hopes of soothing the other shinigami. "Whatever you're thinking or is troubling you… don't worry. Don't think about it. It's over now. You're here."
--
“I don’t want to sleep,” he murmured quietly, haphazardly clinging to his wrist even within the embrace. He liked the feel of the hands running along his back, an obvious attempt to draw anything calm from him, but somehow, it didn’t give him a complete sense of ‘welcome home’. This was his mess certainly, and Tatsumi he could make him forget so easily. Years of suppressing and forcing himself to give that smile, cheer, and radiating happiness. It was a sickness to be so naïve when he understood it all, but what good was to come out of telling anyone that. Hisoka and Tatsumi. Watari would hate him, too, if he’d been here, and Terazuma’s angry justification almost seemed…comforting. Even if it was for something else entirely.
He sighed and tilted his head, wanting to look more thoroughly at the other.
“Tatsumi…” Pulling back a little, he forced his fingers away from his wrist, taking the time to caress the other’s face, thoughts somewhat indignant but cool, curious. He couldn’t understand why Tatsumi wouldn’t touch him in such a manner, remembering Joshua’s enthusiasm with such a thing and how it had felt afterwards. Slow to consciousness, not wanting to face himself, but Tatsumi…
Tatsumi didn’t do any of those things. And Hisoka…
“Do you like me?” Carefully, he fingered the collar of the other’s clothes, eyes generally averted.
--
He stared into the other's purple eyes for a while, silent as he seemed to assess the meaning of Tsuzuki's actions. He pulled Tsuzuki close into him again when he finally spoke. "Of course I like you, Tsuzuki." He closed his eyes, and leaned on the other shinigami's head. "Whatever you do, I would like you. Never think otherwise."
--
But you don’t know…and I can’t tell.
It was his only thought before trying to resist how close the other held him, guilt washing over like a tidal wave. Tsuzuki wondered how it was always like this, so much touch and go between them he honestly didn’t have the capacity to decipher…even if he wanted to. Tatsumi forgave him, Hisoka too, and the world was right again. But now.
Now it didn’t even seem to matter, which hurt just as worse as what he couldn’t say.
“…why?” came the whisper, a little choked because he really was going to start crying if Tatsumi continued talking to him in such a manner. Why did he feel so…degraded? Then, he sighed and shook his head, fingers once again playing at the other’s clothes. And when his mouth opened, words slowly seeping over his tongue, Tsuzuki didn’t know what to think, feeling completely out of this element the kagetsukai seemed to weave.
“I want…” He didn’t even finish the sentence, tilting his head closer to nuzzle at skin with his nose in hopes of getting the idea across to him.
--
Tatsumi was aware of what Tsuzuki was doing. The sensation made him terribly… conscious of his affections. It made him remind himself of his control. At the same time, however, deep down, he was telling himself this was Tsuzuki's way of telling him that it was alright to take him and consummate their love. Or his love.
But that was wrong. His eyebrows knitted together as he told himself that if he took advantage of Tsuzuki now, he would just be raping him. He wasn't exactly waiting for Tsuzuki to strip and spread himself on a bed for him, but this was wrong. Tsuzuki was tired. Tsuzuki was… in some emotional height and whatever he was saying now he'd forget later.
I… I love you.
He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall behind Tsuzuki, holding Tsuzuki tightly close to him. "Because I love you, Tsuzuki…. Because, I know and understand. I'm not saying you're not capable of mistakes, but I understand… "
--
This was going wrong. It was…happening again.
Tsuzuki wasn’t sure how it would make him feel later, when the overwhelming since of fatigue finally wore off and he could think. But it hurt to know Tatsumi was somehow pushing him away again, ignoring the way he pressed against him, fingers teasing along whatever they could reach. And why…why was it only with Tatsumi he felt the need to cling? Only scared and stupid when the other wouldn’t, couldn’t, refused to do what he asked.
“You don’t…”
You don’t want me.
You don’t understand at all…
And beyond his control, the emotional strain far too much for him to handle with all the memories and obvious rejections, Tsuzuki began to cry. A low sound, but the tears burnt at his face nonetheless.
--
He heard the sound of something breaking in the distant, just as the quiet sobs became clear and he felt the warm dampness on his chest. "Tsuzuki…" he said helplessly, pulling back and hunching to see the other's tear-streaked face clearly. He knew what he would see, and yet, when once more faced with Tsuzuki's face; sad, wet with tears, red…. He felt like he'd failed again, like he always seemed to do.
"Please don't cry, Tsuzuki…" he whispered as he pressed a kiss on the other's forehead, brushing away the thick bangs as he did so. "Don't cry… I want you. Of course, I want you…."
And he began kissing a trail on Tsuzuki's face, tasting the salty tears as he tried to kiss them away. It was dumb, and in his mind he was laughing at his ridiculous actions, but he kept on kissing softly, hoping Tsuzuki would stop crying.
All the while, he kept on murmuring 'I want you.'
--
Somehow, even that simple, almost comforting action in its closeness bothered him. Tsuzuki did like the press of Tatsumi’s lips, gentle and partially soothing. The way they skimmed his face to rid him of tears he really couldn’t feel running down his cheeks; so numb it hurt, which couldn’t have made any sense. But he stiffened up, whether unintentional or not, turning his head away from the contact even though his fingers tightened in the material of the other’s shirt.
…how can you? Look at me.
“Then-then…” Tsuzuki honestly didn’t know what to say, shivering despite the blanket around him and Tatsumi’s proximity, biting at his lip to staunch the sounds threatening to escape from his throat. And even as the tears came faster, contradicting what he thought he wanted, he tried to push away and stand. He couldn’t even look at Tatsumi anymore, pain somehow throbbing in his wrist, his soul hurting.
Run away. And he tried.
--
Tatsumi's first instinct was to grab at Tsuzuki, and he did so, fingers wrapping around the blanket and holding tightly at it. But the blanket wasn't part of Tsuzuki, and it slid down the other shinigami's shoulders. He watched Tsuzuki and, when the sudden urge to keep Tsuzuki close to him dissipated, he remembered the way Tsuzuki flinched under his touched, and the look in those eyes.
He brought a hand to his lips, disbelief pooling in his heart.
What had he done?
"I'm… I'm sorry…" he began muttering, suddenly not sure whether Tsuzuki was still there or not.
--
Cold.
Chilling, biting, freezing cold seeped into him the moment it happened, violet eyes falling closed and body standing rigidly where he’d stopped walking. The missing blanket somehow allowed the sorrow to seep into his remaining senses, the tears falling but not as heavy. He couldn’t catch his breath, listening to Tatsumi whisper an apology that should have come from his own mouth. And though lips moved, the softest of sounds making its way free, he did not ask forgiveness.
He wanted to go home, push himself into work that did not require…this.
He wanted to be someone else, anyone else other than Asato Tsuzuki; expenditure, idiot, monster.
So cruel.
“It’s not your fault,” he eventually murmured, voice blank of the grief tearing at him, dissolving the bits and pieces Joshua had left intact. Perhaps in compensation of sorts. “Everything’s in the past anyway…” Then, a low smile, Tsuzuki unable to feel it and Tatsumi unable to see it, his back turned to him.
--
Tatsumi could only nod dumbly in response to Tsuzuki's dismissal, a ready smile already forming on his face. He wasn't like Tsuzuki who deceived everyone with childlike exuberance and innocence in his smiles, but he too knew how to act like everything was fine, to smile even though deep down he was already breaking again. Failure. Failure after failure. This was his fault. He always made pathetic mistakes.
"It's alright, Tsuzuki…." He found his voice after a while and stood up straight. Automatically, his hands were folding the blanket. "Would you like tea…?"
--
Tea. Tea, always…tea.
It was the only thing he heard as he shook his head and began to wander off, mind swimming with the beginning of a headache. Tsuzuki couldn’t tell if it was from crying or being flooded with so much emotional overload in the past few hours, the last few minutes. He just wanted to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened, that Tatsumi wasn’t going to be…weird.
“No,” he whispered softly, stopping again to turn his head and watch the other, almost fascinated with the way he was handling the blanket. Was that why he was so cold? “I’m gong to lay down…”
But his feet wouldn’t move, the helpless look in his eyes reflecting unbidden. As much as Tsuzuki couldn’t stand to be touched at that moment, he…wanted someone to be there with him. He didn’t want to be alone, not when he was so afraid of himself.
Tatsumi, please…
“Will you sleep with me?” Innocent. Yes, that’s all it was.
--
The request made Tatsumi stop inwardly and stare at the other shinigami, hands stopping with whatever they were doing. And then, he realized Tsuzuki was asking innocently. "I will, if you want me to," he said finally, and moved to close the gap between them with small, careful steps.
--
He didn’t want to give his consent so readily, hating to sound needy, but his head was nodding almost dumbly at Tatsumi’s words, Tsuzuki’s height somehow shrinking as the other moved closer to him. And when he was within his proximity again, it was like heat, lovely, warming heat that melted the cold exterior around him. Even though they weren’t touching, it was familiar.
Like home.
Of course Tatsumi wouldn’t be the one to get so caught up in the delights of their visiting the City, sharpened and on task. But it wasn’t as if Tsuzuki could help getting so sidetracked, curious as to all the things around him they could never stop to do back in Meifu or when they were on case. He was blind to the fact, but Tatsumi…
“Tatsumi,” he whimpered, falling against him and squeezing tightly, hugging him closer and closer until he himself couldn’t breathe. To be part of him until he evaporated, until it burned hotter than Touda’s flames, Suzaku’s fire. Yes, he wanted that just now.
He wanted…home.
Rating: PG/PG-13 (at most)
Characters: Tatsumi Seiichirou [
thrifty_shadow] and Asato Tsuzuki [saccharine_end]Summary: Tsuzuki finally makes it home after spending the day...elsewhere.
Note(s): Takes place after this thread and before this.
Log:
Tired, so…
Tsuzuki slumped heavily against the door of apartment eighteen in the second building, barely managing to catch himself as complete exhaustion settled in. His brain was mercifully numb; so blissful because he didn’t want to think of anything at that moment. Not now, when he’d just…
A shudder tore through him, biting hard at his conscience even as he forced his fingers to move, to twist the knob and push the door open. Inside, it was dark. Dark like Tatsumi’s shadows, like the unexplained emotion twisting in his stomach at the thought of hours priors. And it was because of such a thing he hadn’t gone to Hisoka, tired of hurting, of abusing whatever it was that lay between them now. The empath had quit. How could there be nothing left of anything? Even if they weren’t at Meifu, filing cases, and following routine, did all of it mean…nothing?
Only Tatsumi was here now. Empty, cold.
“I’m home,” he choked out, stumbling a little as he tried to find the light switch. But his fatigue won out, Tsuzuki leaning against the wall instead, caught between sliding to the floor to sleep and crying.
The shadows informed him of his co-worker's arrival. A quiet whisper, a soft touch, and Tatsumi was jarred from his thoughts. Blinking away from the refrigerator and finally pushing the door closed, he turned to the direction of the door.
It was dark.
He knew Tsuzuki was home. He didn't doubt his shadows. That knowledge, however, only served to worry him. He willed for the shadows to switch the lights on, and as light began to flood the room, he eyed the slumped form of Tsuzuki against the wall.
His heart sunk. He suddenly felt like rushing towards his friend's side, but common sense won out and instead, he calmed himself and walked towards the fallen shinigami. He placed a hand on Tsuzuki's arm, shaking him softly. "Tsuzuki…"
He made the softest sound in the back of this throat the moment he was touched, jerking reflexively away, afraid the other would be able to see it all if he looked at him. The terrible things he’d done, mostly out of kindness. So, he didn’t, content with staring at the carpet on the floor and how he suddenly had the urge to take his shoes off. Because he’d forgotten, and one should never forget…
Tsuzuki shuddered, doing his best to ignore the brush of Tatsumi’s fingers along his arm, the bare skin since he’d pushed up the sleeves of the sweater. Hot, dying from the inside out. He was cold, and he wondered if the other shinigami could warm him.
“I’m sleepy,” came the murmur, soft in its hesitance, even as he leaned over to pull at the laces of gym shoes. All these things he’d acquired from the City, a comfort he never really bothered with back home. But at what price? When he’d lost Hisoka, and that Tatsumi didn’t want him either.
There was nothing to go back to, and his eyes burned.
Tatsumi knelt down and placed his other hand on Tsuzuki's other shoulder. He made the shinigami turn towards him, concern etched on his face.
"Tsuzuki… are you alright?" he began and feared the answer to the question he was going to ask next. "Did…. Did something happen?" His voice turned bitter, and he hoped that nothing had happened but he knew better. Nothing made Tsuzuki like this… and….
He was going to make it right this time.
Natural reaction to shake his head, mumble something under his breath, and smile at the other without really looking. He couldn’t look, taboo. And it burned him with a cold chill that made him outwardly shudder, how the guilt just ate and ate at him until there was nothing left but a blank void.
It was so…frustrating, but he didn’t have the energy to be angry. He didn’t have the energy for anything, couldn’t even feel properly. Except those things, and…why were his shikigami so quiet? Tsuzuki didn’t like such silence, even when he was so close to Tatsumi and could hear him breathing, heard the concern in his voice as he spoke to him.
“Just a little tired,” he managed, shaking his head and pulling his shoes off, apathetically dumping them wherever they landed the moment they left his feet. Then, unexpectedly, he was leaning into the kagetsukai, wanting contact but hating the way his skin crawled.
Not Tatsumi’s fault. Not…
“…hold me” And his voice was barely audible.
So Tsuzuki wasn't going to tell him, was he? Well, Tatsumi could play along. He smiled gently and looked around before suddenly feeling the urge to wrap Tsuzuki around something. He willed his shadow to take a blanket from the bedrooms and he gently wrapped it around Tsuzuki after his shadows handed it to him.
"Did you go out to drink…?" he questioned quietly, reaching out to caress Tsuzuki's cheeks gently. "Do you need anything? Water…?"
The blanket didn’t help, Tatsumi’s shadows somehow drawing out the shot nerves in his body, the tremble almost fierce as he leaned heavily into the palm against his face. So warm, heat soaking into him. It was unbearable how beautiful it was, the sensation coursing straight to his toes, soothing but not quite. And if it could be this way with a simple touch, perhaps the other could make him forget the feel of chilled lips and murmured words.
No matter how much he’d enjoyed it. Someone touching him.
“No.” His voice was quiet as he focused his gaze, staring at Tatsumi’s glasses, the way they hid the blue of his eyes. Tatsumi’s so pretty… He whimpered, licking slowly at his mouth, swallowing harshly even as the words fell from his lips in some strained tone that almost didn’t sound like him. “I…I love you.”
And before he could think, thoughts still gratefully numb, he tilted his head closer for a kiss.
Tatsumi didn't resist the kiss; in fact, he relished it. However, as soon as it was over, he gently pushed Tsuzuki away and made sure his eyes met with the other. "Tsuzuki, tell me what's wrong," he said seriously. As much he had… loved … hearing those words out of Tsuzuki's mouth, he wasn't sure what it had taken him to say that. It wasn't that he was being… needy, or anything, but, something wasn't right. Tsuzuki… didn't…. wouldn't say that. Not now. Not unless something forced him to come to terms with that and even then….
He sighed and leaned forward to press a kiss on the other shinigami's forehead before pulling him close again for a hug. "Please tell me, Tsuzuki," he whispered into his hair as he held Tsuzuki close. While doing so, the faintest of whispers - almost like a breathe, seemed to brush in his ears. Quick. Simple. Two words.
He's lying.
Surely this was an act brought on by the exhaustion rendering him useless against Tatsumi. Surely.
But even as the words fell from the other shinigami’s mouth, Tsuzuki’s eyes forced to watch the encompassing blue he thought so pretty, still so normal compared to his own, he felt drained. The desperation to feel rather than to know continued dissolving whatever awareness he’d dragged up, having spent the entirety of the day wandering the City, watching and looking. Such mock happiness, this place so condescending. It hated him, hated him enough to play with him, and the urge to cry was even stronger because of it.
“Nothing,” he muttered, shuddering beneath the blanket, at Tatsumi’s closeness and the touch of lips to his forehead. Almost nervously, he licked at the corner of his mouth, far too gone in himself to even give his companion another look with such disgusting eyes.
Why am I…how could you even stand this? Because it hadn’t helped him feel, hadn’t brought Joshua any comfort whatsoever. So it seemed. So everything seemed, and if he couldn’t do anything to soothe whatever pain he noticed, Tatsumi didn’t need him either. Tatsumi was so much stronger, and here he was, almost curled up around himself under the blanket, leaning against him as he was held. On the verge of crying.
His fingers squeezed at his wrist, pain flaring.
“…I just wanted to tell you.” Tatsumi, please…
He'd felt like his whole being was sucked by those words. Tsuzuki wasn't telling. It was final. Still, it hurt. A part of him wanted to believe Tsuzuki had meant those words, while another part vehemently told him Tsuzuki was just tired from whatever damned ordeal he had been forced to endure while he was here, checking their pantry for supplies and cleaning. And Tsuzuki wouldn't even give him the consolation of knowing if anything happened just so he could stop assuming. And hoping. And hurting.
"Hush…. It's alright. You can sleep." Tatsumi began drawing circles with his palm on Tsuzuki's back, in hopes of soothing the other shinigami. "Whatever you're thinking or is troubling you… don't worry. Don't think about it. It's over now. You're here."
“I don’t want to sleep,” he murmured quietly, haphazardly clinging to his wrist even within the embrace. He liked the feel of the hands running along his back, an obvious attempt to draw anything calm from him, but somehow, it didn’t give him a complete sense of ‘welcome home’. This was his mess certainly, and Tatsumi he could make him forget so easily. Years of suppressing and forcing himself to give that smile, cheer, and radiating happiness. It was a sickness to be so naïve when he understood it all, but what good was to come out of telling anyone that. Hisoka and Tatsumi. Watari would hate him, too, if he’d been here, and Terazuma’s angry justification almost seemed…comforting. Even if it was for something else entirely.
He sighed and tilted his head, wanting to look more thoroughly at the other.
“Tatsumi…” Pulling back a little, he forced his fingers away from his wrist, taking the time to caress the other’s face, thoughts somewhat indignant but cool, curious. He couldn’t understand why Tatsumi wouldn’t touch him in such a manner, remembering Joshua’s enthusiasm with such a thing and how it had felt afterwards. Slow to consciousness, not wanting to face himself, but Tatsumi…
Tatsumi didn’t do any of those things. And Hisoka…
“Do you like me?” Carefully, he fingered the collar of the other’s clothes, eyes generally averted.
He stared into the other's purple eyes for a while, silent as he seemed to assess the meaning of Tsuzuki's actions. He pulled Tsuzuki close into him again when he finally spoke. "Of course I like you, Tsuzuki." He closed his eyes, and leaned on the other shinigami's head. "Whatever you do, I would like you. Never think otherwise."
But you don’t know…and I can’t tell.
It was his only thought before trying to resist how close the other held him, guilt washing over like a tidal wave. Tsuzuki wondered how it was always like this, so much touch and go between them he honestly didn’t have the capacity to decipher…even if he wanted to. Tatsumi forgave him, Hisoka too, and the world was right again. But now.
Now it didn’t even seem to matter, which hurt just as worse as what he couldn’t say.
“…why?” came the whisper, a little choked because he really was going to start crying if Tatsumi continued talking to him in such a manner. Why did he feel so…degraded? Then, he sighed and shook his head, fingers once again playing at the other’s clothes. And when his mouth opened, words slowly seeping over his tongue, Tsuzuki didn’t know what to think, feeling completely out of this element the kagetsukai seemed to weave.
“I want…” He didn’t even finish the sentence, tilting his head closer to nuzzle at skin with his nose in hopes of getting the idea across to him.
Tatsumi was aware of what Tsuzuki was doing. The sensation made him terribly… conscious of his affections. It made him remind himself of his control. At the same time, however, deep down, he was telling himself this was Tsuzuki's way of telling him that it was alright to take him and consummate their love. Or his love.
But that was wrong. His eyebrows knitted together as he told himself that if he took advantage of Tsuzuki now, he would just be raping him. He wasn't exactly waiting for Tsuzuki to strip and spread himself on a bed for him, but this was wrong. Tsuzuki was tired. Tsuzuki was… in some emotional height and whatever he was saying now he'd forget later.
I… I love you.
He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall behind Tsuzuki, holding Tsuzuki tightly close to him. "Because I love you, Tsuzuki…. Because, I know and understand. I'm not saying you're not capable of mistakes, but I understand… "
This was going wrong. It was…happening again.
Tsuzuki wasn’t sure how it would make him feel later, when the overwhelming since of fatigue finally wore off and he could think. But it hurt to know Tatsumi was somehow pushing him away again, ignoring the way he pressed against him, fingers teasing along whatever they could reach. And why…why was it only with Tatsumi he felt the need to cling? Only scared and stupid when the other wouldn’t, couldn’t, refused to do what he asked.
“You don’t…”
You don’t want me.
You don’t understand at all…
And beyond his control, the emotional strain far too much for him to handle with all the memories and obvious rejections, Tsuzuki began to cry. A low sound, but the tears burnt at his face nonetheless.
He heard the sound of something breaking in the distant, just as the quiet sobs became clear and he felt the warm dampness on his chest. "Tsuzuki…" he said helplessly, pulling back and hunching to see the other's tear-streaked face clearly. He knew what he would see, and yet, when once more faced with Tsuzuki's face; sad, wet with tears, red…. He felt like he'd failed again, like he always seemed to do.
"Please don't cry, Tsuzuki…" he whispered as he pressed a kiss on the other's forehead, brushing away the thick bangs as he did so. "Don't cry… I want you. Of course, I want you…."
And he began kissing a trail on Tsuzuki's face, tasting the salty tears as he tried to kiss them away. It was dumb, and in his mind he was laughing at his ridiculous actions, but he kept on kissing softly, hoping Tsuzuki would stop crying.
All the while, he kept on murmuring 'I want you.'
Somehow, even that simple, almost comforting action in its closeness bothered him. Tsuzuki did like the press of Tatsumi’s lips, gentle and partially soothing. The way they skimmed his face to rid him of tears he really couldn’t feel running down his cheeks; so numb it hurt, which couldn’t have made any sense. But he stiffened up, whether unintentional or not, turning his head away from the contact even though his fingers tightened in the material of the other’s shirt.
…how can you? Look at me.
“Then-then…” Tsuzuki honestly didn’t know what to say, shivering despite the blanket around him and Tatsumi’s proximity, biting at his lip to staunch the sounds threatening to escape from his throat. And even as the tears came faster, contradicting what he thought he wanted, he tried to push away and stand. He couldn’t even look at Tatsumi anymore, pain somehow throbbing in his wrist, his soul hurting.
Run away. And he tried.
Tatsumi's first instinct was to grab at Tsuzuki, and he did so, fingers wrapping around the blanket and holding tightly at it. But the blanket wasn't part of Tsuzuki, and it slid down the other shinigami's shoulders. He watched Tsuzuki and, when the sudden urge to keep Tsuzuki close to him dissipated, he remembered the way Tsuzuki flinched under his touched, and the look in those eyes.
He brought a hand to his lips, disbelief pooling in his heart.
What had he done?
"I'm… I'm sorry…" he began muttering, suddenly not sure whether Tsuzuki was still there or not.
Cold.
Chilling, biting, freezing cold seeped into him the moment it happened, violet eyes falling closed and body standing rigidly where he’d stopped walking. The missing blanket somehow allowed the sorrow to seep into his remaining senses, the tears falling but not as heavy. He couldn’t catch his breath, listening to Tatsumi whisper an apology that should have come from his own mouth. And though lips moved, the softest of sounds making its way free, he did not ask forgiveness.
He wanted to go home, push himself into work that did not require…this.
He wanted to be someone else, anyone else other than Asato Tsuzuki; expenditure, idiot, monster.
So cruel.
“It’s not your fault,” he eventually murmured, voice blank of the grief tearing at him, dissolving the bits and pieces Joshua had left intact. Perhaps in compensation of sorts. “Everything’s in the past anyway…” Then, a low smile, Tsuzuki unable to feel it and Tatsumi unable to see it, his back turned to him.
Tatsumi could only nod dumbly in response to Tsuzuki's dismissal, a ready smile already forming on his face. He wasn't like Tsuzuki who deceived everyone with childlike exuberance and innocence in his smiles, but he too knew how to act like everything was fine, to smile even though deep down he was already breaking again. Failure. Failure after failure. This was his fault. He always made pathetic mistakes.
"It's alright, Tsuzuki…." He found his voice after a while and stood up straight. Automatically, his hands were folding the blanket. "Would you like tea…?"
Tea. Tea, always…tea.
It was the only thing he heard as he shook his head and began to wander off, mind swimming with the beginning of a headache. Tsuzuki couldn’t tell if it was from crying or being flooded with so much emotional overload in the past few hours, the last few minutes. He just wanted to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened, that Tatsumi wasn’t going to be…weird.
“No,” he whispered softly, stopping again to turn his head and watch the other, almost fascinated with the way he was handling the blanket. Was that why he was so cold? “I’m gong to lay down…”
But his feet wouldn’t move, the helpless look in his eyes reflecting unbidden. As much as Tsuzuki couldn’t stand to be touched at that moment, he…wanted someone to be there with him. He didn’t want to be alone, not when he was so afraid of himself.
Tatsumi, please…
“Will you sleep with me?” Innocent. Yes, that’s all it was.
The request made Tatsumi stop inwardly and stare at the other shinigami, hands stopping with whatever they were doing. And then, he realized Tsuzuki was asking innocently. "I will, if you want me to," he said finally, and moved to close the gap between them with small, careful steps.
He didn’t want to give his consent so readily, hating to sound needy, but his head was nodding almost dumbly at Tatsumi’s words, Tsuzuki’s height somehow shrinking as the other moved closer to him. And when he was within his proximity again, it was like heat, lovely, warming heat that melted the cold exterior around him. Even though they weren’t touching, it was familiar.
Like home.
Of course Tatsumi wouldn’t be the one to get so caught up in the delights of their visiting the City, sharpened and on task. But it wasn’t as if Tsuzuki could help getting so sidetracked, curious as to all the things around him they could never stop to do back in Meifu or when they were on case. He was blind to the fact, but Tatsumi…
“Tatsumi,” he whimpered, falling against him and squeezing tightly, hugging him closer and closer until he himself couldn’t breathe. To be part of him until he evaporated, until it burned hotter than Touda’s flames, Suzaku’s fire. Yes, he wanted that just now.
He wanted…home.