(no subject)

[saccharine-end.livejournal.com]

When: Sept. 21st, early evening
Rating: PG-ish
Characters: Tatsumi Seiichirou [thrifty_shadow] and Asato Tsuzuki [saccharine_end]
Summary: All Tsuzuki had wanted were some toffees...
Log:



Tatsumi had become his latest victim.

Of course, seeing as how Hisoka was always busy and no one else wanted to venture out into the City with him, Tsuzuki found it the most convenient answer to his problems. He hadn’t wanted to go alone in the first place, not when sharing sweets was considered a more-than-one-person event. And Tatsumi hadn’t seemed to mind. Right?

So, he was there, dragging Tatsumi towards the door of the apartment, all energy and excitement as he hauled him by the hand. He’d even taken the time to change his clothes, loose and comfortable, to help him easily move about without the hindering trench coat and work suit. As long as he remembered to bring Hisoka something, nothing could ruin this trip outside.

“Come on, Tatsumi. Hurry.” Eager and willing to do just about anything for this, Tsuzuki smiled brightly at the other shinigami.


Tatsumi took in that smile as a warning and carefully readied himself for whatever mischief the purple-eyed shinigami was going to eventually get him into. Tsuzuki didn't intentionally cause trouble, Tatsumi knew, but he naturally had a knack of getting into it and that smile often served as the signal for that. The bright smile. Tatsumi hmmed in response to his friend and mutely straightened his tie (he was dressed in his usual work clothes; the impeccable brown suit and tie) before following Tsuzuki.


The door flung open, and they were already halfway down the steps before Tsuzuki realized Tatsumi hadn’t even objected to his latest random idea of fun. Partially concerned, he stopped in mid-stride down the stairwell, tilting his head in that curious manner of his whenever he felt the need to interrogate…and be overly playful about it.

Wide eyes stared at the Shadow Master, depths a brighter violet than usual.

“Are you sure you want to go?” He bit his lip in thought, eyebrows narrowing before arching with surprise. “Tatsumi…?”


He arched a delicate eyebrow at Tsuzuki and then stared for a few moments while he assessed the situation. Tsuzuki was pushing his luck; he had said he'd follow him, didn't he? Why ask? He smiled, finally, and pushed his glasses upwards. "Are you sure you want me to go, Tsuzuki-san? You sound like you don't?"

There, Tatsumi thought, if Tsuzuki wanted to be playful, he could follow through in his own way.


Tendrils of dark hair mussed themselves the moment he started shaking his head, another painfully cheerful smile gracing his lips. There wasn’t a reason for Tsuzuki not to want him to come. Not really. And besides, he had the hardest time being alone, especially when that ticking returned, heavy and full-force. Both Tatsumi and Hisoka chased it away, so there was no need to decline the offer for company when it was given.

Not that he really knew where he was going.

“I…” His mouth opened and then closed on automatic, unsure of what to say. Tsuzuki shrugged instead, giving Tatsumi’s hand a squeeze before pulling on it gently. “Let’s go!”


Soft. Tsuzuki's hands were soft.

Tatsumi's breath hitched slightly at the thought. He was hallucinating, he was sure. All talk of sweets had somehow forced his mind into another thinking gear. Nevermind the sweets, Tsuzuki was doing this. Something inside him told him he'd rather not have that hand holding so tightly onto his but Tatsumi knew to ask for the other shinigami to let go would translate to a backhanded slap. Tatsumi didn't want that and at the same time, it felt.... good?

He squashed that thought and forced himself into calm.

"Do you know where to go?" Tatsumi asked gently. He hoped Tsuzuki did because he certainly did not.


Curious ears caught the slight sound before shrugging it off as nothing and continuing down the steps, though his pace a little slower. Tsuzuki wasn’t stupid. Perhaps there was something bothering Tatsumi, especially after Hisoka’s arrival and all the curses the City loved throwing at them, but he couldn’t ask. How was someone supposed to inquire about those kind of things? And if he knew Tatsumi, which he was relatively positive he did, the shinigami would refuse to tell him anything. Brush him off in that quiet tone with which he murmured his name, push his glasses up a little further to hide his eyes.

Tsuzuki didn’t understand it. But he wanted to. And somewhere, he thought he already did.

“I remember this place I saw before,” he started, hand holding onto Tatsumi’s a little tighter so as not to lose his balance as he skipped a step. “But I don’t know if they have toffees.” Almost wistful, he laughed quietly and continued on.


Tatsumi's lips opened slightly as he watched Tsuzuki playfully skip a step. His heart skip a beat and then, when those slender fingers tightened around his, he almost gasp. Almost. He swallowed and looked away, then pressed his lips tightly together. Calm, he told himself, he must be calm. When he felt stable enough, he decided to respond to Tsuzuki's idle chatter.

"They should have. This city seems to have everything its occupant needs," he said quietly. He then added; "At least, money is not an issue." Otherwise, I won't be here, walking behind you, hand in yours....

He knew if money was involved, he wouldn't be here. He would be back in their apartment, safe, sound, calm, drinking coffee, worrying about budget, thinking about money, counting money and safe. Honestly, right now, Tatsumi could help but anticipate... something. Something embarrassing, probably.


There was a laugh. “Don’t worry so much about it.”

Though his first natural response, Tsuzuki knew Tatsumi held a bigger capacity for worrying than he let on, and it was just some false hope to ease himself. Oddly, he felt somewhat nervous and giddy about having Tatsumi with him, holding his hand and…

At the bottom of the staircase, Tsuzuki stopped, hesitating at the door before venturing out into the City, turning himself to face the other shinigami with an expression written on his face unclear to him. It was odd, wasn’t it? Knowing nothing and never bothered enough by it to ask. Tsuzuki drew in a breath, examining Tatsumi’s features, his neat hair and glasses, the way his suit never seemed to be out of place. A complete contrast from him, with his chaotic hair and against protocol clothing. And why did he suddenly feel as though both he and Hisoka took turns pushing him off onto one another, like a game, unable to…

Tsuzuki had dropped Tatsumi’s hand before realizing it, arms wrapping around the Shadow Master’s waist and hugging him instead, head hidden from view, afraid of any truth other than the ones he already knew.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered it, quiet and soft, and distantly, the clock’s ticking echoed in his heart.


Tatsumi's body shuddered slightly as he breathed in sharply in response to Tsuzuki's arms around his waist. He breathed out slowly, unable to think, too surprised by the action to do anything for a while. His mouth felt dry. He felt warm. Embarassed. He barely heard Tsuzuki's whisper but understood it clearly.

I'm sorry.

His heart constricted. He frowned. He lifted his arms and stopped himself when he realized he was thinking about hugging the younger shinigami back. No no no! Seiichirou Tatsumi! He scolded himself; Calm. Be as the still river.

Hesitantly at first, Tatsumi finally resorted to running his fingers into the younger shinigami's hair and soothingly petting him like a parent would to an errant child. He found his voice later and spoke in quiet tones, careful not to speak any louder than he had to for fear of having any of that uncertainty, that confusion, becoming magnified in his voice. He knew if he spoke any louder, his voice would tremble, crack, and fail. "What are you apologizing for, Tsuzuki-san?" he asked softly, schooling his face into a look of calm and gentleness.


Another shake of his head truly showed Tsuzuki’s unwillingness to answer, and a thousand thoughts flew through his mind before settling on one noticeable detail he hadn’t paid much attention to. Tatsumi felt different. Less taxing than Hisoka, familiar and comfortable. Not that he minded the younger shinigami’s touches or embraces. In fact, he almost craved them, having developed into a purely physical being after those years of isolation when he’d still been alive. It was an odd contradiction, though it made sense in the highest regard, and Tatsumi’s closeness warmed him.

Like this, time stood still.

And he couldn’t explain what he was apologizing for. Tsuzuki just knew he had to, even if it didn’t make any sense. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything.

Tsuzuki didn’t bother moving either. If anything, he tilted his head a little to feel the stronger stroke of Tatsumi’s fingers in his hair, shivering unintentionally at how good it felt. He wondered if the other could feel it, how much this affected him, how much he needed it, and Tsuzuki sighed, clinging tighter, pressing himself a little closer.

In fact, he didn’t want to leave, and he wasn’t going to.


Tatsumi did not know what to do.

He was torn between reminding Tsuzuki about why they were here (which were the toffees Tsuzuki wanted) and staying there. He didn't know what had prompted Tsuzuki to hug him like so but, try as he might, even with the worry for Tsuzuki's well-being lurking at the back of his mind, he couldn't bring himself to do something -- anything -- about their current situation. And he liked it. Feeling Tsuzuki's arms wrapped tightly around him made him feel... needed, wanted... sufficient? He simply hadn't had the heart to tear himself away from the physical comfort he rarely felt. It felt nice, being like this. It was nice...

...and selfish.

Yes, Tatsumi knew, he was being selfish. Tsuzuki, for all he knew, might be worrying about something and here he was basking in his helplessness. It was so base but...

...but he liked it. He didn't want it to end even though he knew, it could only end.


It was only natural to whimper, the sound caught in Tsuzuki’s throat as he turned his face and pushed it against the material of the other’s suit, breath heated as he exhaled. Tatsumi loved being so cruel to him, doing nothing and expecting him to do the same. Tsuzuki lacked the self-control Tatsumi enforced upon himself, tried to force upon others with his budgeting and calculating ways. How else was he supposed to react to this…even if he’d been the one to initiate it?

“Tatsumi…” His voice was choked, probably tears or something as equally heartbreaking. He couldn’t figure out why it hurt so much. “Tatsumi. Please…”


Please.

In and out; Tatsumi heard his breathing clearly as he worked to calm himself. What did Tsuzuki want? What did he have to offer? It was confusing and at the same time, Tsuzuki's desperation made sense as if he knew all along and was simply too stubborn to acknowledge it.

"Tsuzuki-san...." Tatsumi whispered softly. His hand slipped away from the tangle of soft, raven hair and moved downwards, finding rest on the younger shinigami's shoulder. He wasn't sure when his left hand had found its way on Tsuzuki's other shoulder but then there he was, gripping tightly suddenly and... gently and carefully pushing him away.


The confusion hurt. Tatsumi was telling him that it was enough, that it was time for him to return to the world separate and alone, and Tsuzuki couldn’t do that. He didn’t do well by himself, never really had in the first place because that was all he ever had been. Alone. Especially with life still in his body. He couldn’t do it, and the evidence was written in the depths of his eyes, at the beginning of tears working their way to the corners.

And his fingers dug into the material of Tatsumi’s clothing, drawing it with him even as the other pushed him away, putting distance between them. You can’t stand me either. Tsuzuki lifted his face, sniffling ever so slightly, a tactic he knew that would either work or fail miserably.

“I…” He pleaded, bunching the jacket in his fingers, holding fast to the other even as he looked at him, on the verge of sobbing, and Tsuzuki didn’t know how to explain himself. “I’m sorry.”

Please understand.


No... no.

Tsuzuki didn't understand. Tatsumi took in the pain in those purple eyes and felt dread clutching at his heart. No, no, no! Tatsumi wanted to yell and tell Tsuzuki that he was wrong. That he didn't mean it that way. The hurt, the pain; Tatsumi understood what Tsuzuki felt. He knew him far too long not to and it hurt knowing he'd done it again. He gripped Tsuzuki tighter, unconsciously. He didn't know if he was hurting Tsuzuki but...

"Tsuzuki," he said firmly, gritting his teeth. The words refused to come out of his mouth. No, you don't understand, Tsuzuki-san. It's not you. It's not you at all.He wished he could say that with the stiff seriousness, the calm, he had become notorious for. You don't understand. You don't understand. The words repeated in his mind feverishly in a way he would never let himself say. Not out loud. And certainly not in front of Tsuzuki.

You don't understand.

....What? Even Tatsumi didn't know. But he knew...

In and out; breathe.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the pain in Tsuzuki's eyes. Or so he told himself. But deep down, he felt it, a part of him had already thrown itself onto the cliff and was in freefall...

Warm.

Soft.

Before Tatsumi knew it, he was kneeling down, arms wound tightly around the other shinigami. And his lips were pressed against Tsuzuki's.


His name. It was all he could concentrate on before he was suffocating, a dark and heavy weight against his mouth, pressing against him. His mind told him to push away, to escape, and at first, Tsuzuki tried. He tried until his chest was numb with confusion.

His fingers dropped from Tatsumi’s clothes, body going limp against the other, almost falling into him, expecting him to catch him. Tsuzuki couldn’t think beyond Tatsumi. There was nothing of candy or cake or of Hisoka. Just Tsuzuki and Tatsumi. And Tatsumi kissing him.

Kissing.

It was certainly a strange concept to him, having been confined most of his life. There had been those stolen moments, sickening as they had been. Repuslive, and the thought made Tsuzuki shudder against Tatsumi, his fingers spasmodically pressing to the other’s chest, curling there and not moving.

On instinct, he opened his mouth to speak, even against the other’s, and found himself tasting Tatsumi. Actually tasting him. On his lips, across his tongue when he tried to swallow.

Drowning, too. Tsuzuki could feel it, and he clung to him, desperate for answers, puzzled by this, what it meant. But he did nothing except take it because he trusted Tatsumi with his life.


Tatsumi remembered kissing his mother; the taste of cold skin against his warm lips and death as the dark shadows hung over them. He remembered the taste of blood in his lips; copper, liquid, warm. He'd thought about kissing Tsuzuki before and left it to fantasy. He couldn't remember kissing anyone in his life or afterlife; not romantically that is. And now, there he was, tasting Tsuzuki, feeling Tsuzuki's warmth... his tongue...

He didn't have to think to know he had to end this and push Tsuzuki away. His body responded to the instinctual order readily and he was pulling and pushing away at the same time. He let go, not wanting any of that delicious contact because he knew that he was weak. He was weak, base, disgusting; a dark creature like Muraki himself. This was what Muraki had seen in him. The same dark lust ran deep within them and eventually... eventually, he knew he would hurt Tsuzuki. No. No. No.

He turned away sharply, not wanting to see the hurt and betrayal and hatred in Tsuzuki's eyes. It hurt to see darkness in those purple orbs, hurt to see pain and anger... especially when it was directed at him.

"I'm sorry, Tsuzuki-san," he said and had meant for it to sound firm but his voice trembled uneasily. He could almost hear Muraki's deep voice, purring; "You want him too, Tatsumi-san. You and I are alike."

I do not want him! Not that way!

Kiss.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, unable to think of anything else to say. He needed to leave before he could hurt Tsuzuki. He needed to. Needed. Desperately.


At first, Tsuzuki didn’t even hear the apology, let alone acknowledge it. Trembling fingers touched his mouth instead, still warm and briefly wet from the other’s kiss, tracing it, touching it, trying to dissect it and its meaning. Motionless, he just stood there, cold from the inside out, knowing this reluctance and feeling it surround him in an empty embrace.

Just a friendly kiss. Right? Oh, but he knew Tatsumi cared for him, maybe loved him, too. Because Tsuzuki did, no matter what was said or believed. He’d known Tatsumi the longest, trusted him more than was completely logical. But nothing was ever logical in Tsuzuki’s mind, and maybe it was the same.

Amethyst eyes swirled with all of this, the thoughts pounding at his brain even as his hand continued to finger his bottom lip. Tatsumi didn’t look like he wanted to be questioned about it, be here with him, and somehow, that hurt worse than anything he could have ever done.

“The toffees are waiting for us, Tatsumi…”

And the tears lingered, his smile shaky as he offered it to the other shinigami willingly, without thought.


Tsuzuki's voice painted his expression in Tatsumi's mind. With a sharp breath, Tatsumi forced himself to face the other shinigami. Stoic blue met purple eyes and Tatsumi felt his heart clench again as he saw the tears on the younger shinigami's face. He cursed himself; why did they always have to end up like this? As if there could be nothing between them but this bittersweet pain that always, always hurt Tsuzuki.

He was afraid to reach out and to touch the other even though he suddenly felt the need to. Instead, he settled for returning the shaky smile on Tsuzuki's face with a gentle one. "It's not... it's not you. I'm sorry, Tsuzuki-san," he said slowly, careful with his words. It's not you. It was my fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know how it's-- "It's not my place, I know. I'm sorry." He bowed his head and hoped... hoped Tsuzuki would understand and not fault himself because despite all he said, he knew, Tsuzuki could never be at fault and it was all him...


Tatsumi was hurting. Tsuzuki could feel it; he didn’t even have to possess Hisoka’s empathic ability to know how much pain the other shinigami was in. Even his smile didn’t reach his eyes, something Tsuzuki always admired about Tatsumi…to the point he’d wanted to mimic it. And even as the words finally filtered through his mind, loud and as clear as crystal, Tsuzuki didn’t listen to them. This really was his fault, wasn’t it? Everything. Everything until now, and why Tatsumi was apologizing, bowing his head like someone lower than him.

He didn’t want to see it.

Carefully, quietly, the fingers still touching his mouth moved forward, skimming Tatsumi’s cheek, reaching underneath to tilt his face up, wanting to look at him. And when he did, that same shaky smile glued itself to Tsuzuki’s lips before he put a foot forward and returned himself to that warm aura. Hugging him was good, it felt good, and he couldn’t understand why he’d never done it before. And Tsuzuki being Tsuzuki never had turned down seconds. Maybe Tatsumi would finally, finally come to understand it too.


Tsuzuki's touch was gentle and soft, comforting and damning at the same time. Tatsumi had wanted to shy away from the purple-eyed shinigami's touch, feeling himself unworthy of such kindness but then he was suddenly pulled into another hug and he felt all resistance flee him once again. He gasped, softly, and wound his arms around Tsuzuki, returning the hug almost too eagerly. What his words could not explain he hoped he could somehow impart Tsuzuki through the hug; he wasn't revolted by Tsuzuki, no, he was revolted by himself and didn't deserve this.

Tsuzuki didn't deserve to be treated by him like this. Whatever Tsuzuki gave was enough; he had had no right to want more, to... take more.

Like Muraki.


He melted into Tatsumi. Tsuzuki lacked the resistance to fight him anyway, wanting to comfort him and be the solace he needed. And it was so warm. Tatsumi was real, pressed against him and breathing into his hair, the slope of his neck. It made him shiver, the whimper free of his throat before he could voice anything else, and he squeezed tighter on instinct, oddly reminded of his sister and the consolation she'd given once upon a time.

"Tatsumi." Low and quiet, Tsuzuki hoped for this to last, wanting Tatsumi to realize he was sorry for whatever it was he'd done to make him feel so...un-Tatsumi-like. "It's okay..."

And just as the Shadow Master had done to him, fingers found themselves wound in Tatsumi's hair.

"It's okay."


Tatsumi decided it was best not to say anything in reponse to Tsuzuki's assurance. Tsuzuki trusted him and if he wanted to... to save the purple-eyed shinigami from himself then it was he who needed to control himself. This had to end. Tsuzuki didn't know what kind of darkness lay within him. Tatsumi knew he was undeserving, greedy, selfish, dark. He had no right and hadn't he... hadn't he told himself watching over Tsuzuki was enough? There was Kurosaki. Kurosaki was better for Tsuzuki; a partner who would last... would always be there.

He tried to ignore the soft fingers in his hair and told himself to stop basking in the younger shinigami's kindness. It would only lead to pain.

I can't make you happy. I will only hurt you just like her...

He closed his eyes and frowned. Mother...


It was his turn to sigh, to push away a little. Somehow, for the briefest moment, it was as though they'd changed roles, Tatsumi playing the distressed puppy and Tsuzuki his reassuring voice of reason. But they were slowly going backwards, racing time just a little faster to return to their proper positions. And he hadn't helped, probably only caused whatever it was to worsen. Tsuzuki caught the other shinigami's frown and frowned himself, heart aching for reasons he couldn't comprehend past it hurts so much.

Drawing an arm from around Tatsumi's waist, he touched the other's face. Gently, carefully, that ever-sure smile on his lips, though it barely reflected in the depths of his eyes.

"Let's go later," he answered, tone rather neutral, trying to diguise the pain he felt. "I'm not really hungry anymore." And Tsuzuki gave one last quick squeeze before withdrawing himself entirely.


His mind felt clearer without Tsuzuki bombarding his senses but at the same time, there was a dull longing for that contact to happen again. Tatsumi frowned inwardly but did nothing.

"Tsuzuki-san," he found himself saying. Maybe he could set things right. "...What--" he sighed and turned away, aware of the heat rising up his cheeks as he tried to find the right words. He pushed his glasses upwards again, out of nervous habit. "--What do you want, Tsuzuki-san...?"


He felt the embarrassment flush his face before he properly knew how to react to it, misunderstanding Tatsumi's question, not sure how to answer. Tsuzuki stood there, feet glued to the floor and arms to his sides. Numb. Purely numb.

What do I-

"I want..." Toffees. Cake. Something to drink. For this to be over. I... "I don't know."

And then his flight reaction kicked in, sending him up the back up the steps he'd so happily bounced down, confusion and hurt written across his face, knocking into Tatsumi before he took the first foot forward. He repeated it again even as he climbed the stairs, leaving the other standing there, probably looking at him, wondering. Always wondering...

"I'm sorry. I don't know." But he wanted to, and that hurt more than anything.


He doesn't want you.

Tatsumi ignored the brief feeling of disappointment. He told himself he was right and Tsuzuki hadn't wanted him and had only been desperate for comfort. He never did want me. I can't do anything good for him.

He took a deep breath, held it and smiled softly. "I'll go get the toffees on my own then, Tsuzuki-san." Pause. Push glasses up. Turn around. "You'll want it later on, I'm sure."

Walk.

He felt helpless. It hurt. But it was wrong of him to accept something not rightfully his. It wasn't his place. He'd take what was meant for him.

There's nothing meant for you, Tatsumi Seiichirou.

He wondered if this was his fate.