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“Hit me.”
It catches him off-guard, but wouldn’t it do so to anyone?
“Ah... pardon?”
He hopes he misheard. He hopes he misunderstood. He hopes that Naki still had that mumbling problem. He hopes for a lot-- too much; so much that it was cause for a dull ache within his chest.
“I want you,” and the young ghoul initially doesn’t skip a beat (and shuu just wants it to end there. please end there.), going as far as to stare right at him before he falters, “to hit me as much... as much as ya can.”
And he feels his stomach drop. It falls so hard and fast that it plummets.
It lurched forward-- making all possible responses catch in his throat.
And these thoughts...?
They remain, and they lingered.
But, worst of all, they ached.
“Naki, mon amour...” he heard himself whisper, almost inaudible. His voice was little more than a wisp. “You...”
(you can’t ask that of me.)
It’s like clockwork, the way he’s moving. Hand goes to rest on cheek (soft. just like him.), and he nearly feels a wince beneath his fingers. Naki’s eyes twitched, gradually easing into a squint whilst tears had-- oh... oh, no.
He’s already crying.
Shuu swallowed and looked away shut his eyes.
He didn’t want to hear him beg. Not tonight.
“Please. I’ll be okay.”
Was he telling the truth? It was so hard to tell.
So badly, though, did he want to believe him.
“You...” Shuu tried again, voice still gentle, soft, and delicate. “I--”
Naki bit his lip and slowly put his hand over his. Fingers wrapped around it, grip benign and docile. He licked his lips, blinked back the budding tears (some had already rolled down his cheeks. were it another day-- another season with another reason, shuu may have found them beautiful.) as he leaned into the touch. Cheek cupped itself neatly, nestling into the warmth of Shuu’s palm. Eyelids fell, nearly fluttering shut as he dared to breathe out a sigh.
“I’ll tell ya if it’s too much.”
Time stops, and it waits. It has its hands at its throat.
Even as Shuu’s eyes opened, time choked itself.
“--...”
He could see him from beneath his lashes, and he’s unsure if it was proper of him to feel sad. Naki’s on the verge of sobbing, and Shuu found himself asking so many questions to no one else but himself. Does he want to bawl? Does he want to mewl? Does he want to whimper? Does... Does Shuu want to see that?
(will you regret it later? or...)
Slowly, with clear reluctance does he lower his hand alongside his guard. Intricate and tender does he move, fingers hovering over damp skin before moving to aside stray strands of blond. Hand leisured, taking its time in adjusting-- touching and feeling until it has itself cupping Naki’s chin.
(or... will i regret it later?)
“Naki, mon chéri.”
He proceeded once he could look into the other man’s eyes.
Only then does he raise his other arm with fingers loosely splayed apart.
“Please, clench your teeth. If you keep your mouth open, you’ll bite your tongue.”
Tone was kept sweet-- sugary and thickly slicked with love.
Perhaps, it was best if it was he did see it, after all.
It felt like hours have passed. It’s easy to lose count.
Naki’s breathing through his mouth, jaw hanging slack with the smallest hint of blood’s flavoring tainting his tongue. Vision flickers during rapid bouts of blinking with hand clutching blond hair. He’s bleeding from the nose (one, long, and thick line of red leaks from the left nostril. he tries to sniff it back up but knows that’s not how it works.) and tears have run down his cheeks. There’s stains, darkening and moistening skin in runny marks.
He’s such a goddamned mess, but it didn’t matter.
It’s what he wanted anyway, so why should it matter?
However, things have come to a stop. He sways from side to side, not yet falling because of sturdy support. The realization greets him in its slow, menial way. Holding his breath, he tightened his jaw and sealed his lips. Eyes fought back the urge to screw shut, crinkling at their corners before--
“You look so... so tired.”
--his hands grip tight at Shuu’s thighs, those being his only leverage save for the other ghoul’s hand holding him up. He trembled. He shook. He writhed. He’s breathing deeply, occasionally letting loose a hiccup and a pathetic, little sniffle. He doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t want to plead. Heart’s beating fast in his ears, and it sounds like rushing water. He doesn’t care, though. He’s never cared.
(please please please please--)
He welcomes the sound of flesh against flesh.
He welcomes the feeling of skin smacking skin.
(--please please plEASE PLEASE PLEASE--)
A gasp escapes, and Naki’s hold faltered for a half of a second. The realization was immediate, own breath hitching within throat as he clasps again. Fingers dug themselves into fabric of Shuu’s pants, and he’s nearly gritting his teeth. It’s hard to keep looking at him with his hunched shoulders and his aching neck, but he wants to. A voiceless “thank you” oozes from his expression, the younger ghoul managing the tiniest of smiles throughout the pain.
And, ah-- he’s shown too much. There was a brief pause within ministrations, Shuu’s eyes going wide at the reveal with his hand freezing in the air’s midst. Fingers twitched, and Naki saw it but would say nothing. He felt fingers loosen within his hair for but a moment’s time being immediately returning to their original strength. He braces himself for another (hard! it hurts, it hurts, it hurts! but he wants it! replace the hurt with another kind of hurt!) and sobs when he feels the burn before the crash.
(this is what i want. give it to me.)
He wants to beg for him. He wants to plead with him. He wants to call out “harder.” with what’s left of his voice. He wants to hurt.
(i need it. i need it so bad. i need it more than anything.)
But it’s so hard. It’s so, so hard.
This pain... was so familiar. It’s strangely lovely. It’s something he wants to keep and to hold close to his heart. The tears have since stopped, and he finds himself already missing their presence. Hands claw, having lost their hold once again and desperately clinging for any show of support. He doesn’t want to rip the fabric yet, in the back of his head, knows he’s already done that. It’s stretched out and worn thin, and it’d surely be seen as ugly later on. Naki peered up at Shuu, with a mystified expression.
For once does Naki enjoy the sensation. For once does he find something softer than the feeling of death. Dying’s such a commodity, he believes. It’s something he’s been so unsure of for a while (live without yamori? die with yamori? he’s not sure and it hurts!), and he’s never been bold enough to simply ask. Instead, he wanted to replace it. He wanted to forget. He wanted to feel something different. He wanted to share himself-- expose himself.
And so he dares to speak. He dares himself to be bold.
“Hhh--”
Shuu stops, patient and quiet. He’s breathing through his nose, but Naki could see how exhausted he’s slowly becoming.
“--hhharder.”
He’s unsure if he should be grateful for the interlude. It allowed for more and more thoughts to seep through (gagi and guge would still be here if it wasn’t for you. yamori would still be here if you were there. miza wouldn’t have nearly died if you were useful for once in your fucking life. and if it weren’t for you, shuu would’ve-- ... would’ve...), and Naki’s eyes begin to water again. Just before these tears began their downwards stream once again, Shuu’s lips pursed in a little coo.
“This is the last one, mon ange.”
It’s embarrassing, but he can’t remember what that meant.
Maybe he’ll ask later... if he can remember. He wants to know.
Naki’s eyes flutter shut at the assurance, though. Breath was held with shoulders tensing only to grow lax seconds later. His rapid heartbeat was almost a rhythm at this point, thumping hard and rough against the drums of his ears. It was nearly enough to drown everything out--
“... Je suis désolé.”
--but only nearly.
He’s gone to great lengths to clean up.
This mess? It was his, after all.
Tenderness-- it’s almost alien to Naki when comparing it to a mere half of an hour ago.
A tissue (light pink in color. naki doesn’t know why shuu has them in those shades but never asked why.) dabbed itself at Naki’s lip. He struggled all the while, wincing and flinching back until Shuu held him by the jaw. Smudged was the blood until Shuu licked the tip of his thumb, wiping away the leftovers and the leftovers’s remnants.
“...”
He noticed the way Naki refused to look directly at him. He smiled, though, and stifled back a sigh. Admittedly, it hurt to smile but... wasn’t that was what he was supposed to do? Fake a smile? Pretend like everything was okay? He’s done it before, and he’s gotten away with it before. So, with that in mind, it was okay, wasn’t it? It was okay. And even if it wasn’t, he’d make it okay.
“Ya didn’t wanna do it, did you?”
Hesitation. Reluctance. Embarrassment.
Previously peering down at the tissue, fluffing at its corners and turning it around to find clean spots, Shuu paused and peered up at Naki. The question, while reasonable and almost expected, wasn’t something he had been preparing to answer.
“Why do you say that?”
“...”
“Naki, I--”
“Ya didn’t want to. I heard what ya said back there.”
(ah... shit.)
“I dunno what it was, but... I know it wasn’t good.”
He blinked, still trying to keep the smile nonetheless. It faltered. It’s always quick to falter, especially when he saw Naki lean forward. Eyes fought back the urge to shut (escape the situation. he can’t tell him the truth. not right now. maybe not ever. it’d only make him cry, and he can’t make him cry any more.), mistaking the action as an initiation for intimacy. It’d be easier to avoid, after all. Maybe he’s lied his way out of another situation and--
“‘M sorry.”
--oh.
Naki’s rested his head on his shoulder, nearly nestling close to the crook of his neck. He heard him suck in a breath (he remembered he put on a special kind of perfume earlier. he wanted to ask naki’s opinion on it.) before he felt arms lazily wrap around his waist. Naki scooted closer, clumsily draping his legs over Shuu’s, and he... he let it happen.
“Why do you say that...?” he asked again, voice growing weak as his own arms draped themselves around his dear’s shoulders.
Initially, his answer was silence, and he’s uncertain if he liked it.
Seconds ticked by, growing more and more tense by the moment, before Naki’s hold developed into an embrace.
“‘M sorry I made ya do that.”
He felt himself freeze.
“I was fucked up earlier, man, 'nd... I w-wanted somethin’ t’make it less fucked up and... a-a-and...”
Sighing, Shuu buried his face into the side of Naki’s head. He took in the smell of him (the cheap cologne. the lingering smell of blood and dirt. there’s a hint of metal. but he doesn’t mind.), and sat silent for but a moment’s time. He felt Naki shake weakly within his arms and instinctively firmed his hold, tightening his embrace. He shut his eyes, knit his brows together, and shushed him with gentle reminders and soft words.
“It’s okay.”
Naki trembled, sniffed, but, at least, he was breathing.
“All I ask is that you please... please--”
Eyes cracked open with nothing to stare at.
“--don’t ask for me to hurt you when you are already in pain.”