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*
“Come.”
Javier blinks sleepily. To call in the dead of night is very unlike Yuzuru. To call at all is, in fact, too.
“It’s three in the morning, Yuzu!”
Javier is wrapped in a blanket in his warm bed, the rain beating against the windows. He is exhausted after a day of practicing and his limbs seem leaden, he is tired to the world at the moment. Javier wants to fall asleep again as soon as possible, every muscle screaming in protest as he shifts to sit upright. The thought that there is Sunday tomorrow and he doesn’t need waking up early for a morning practice session washes Javier with a sense of relief.
“Come.”
Something in Yuzuru’s voice at the other end of the line makes Javier’s chest constrict painfully.
Resignation? Hidden pleading? Desperate sincerity?
Actually, Javier can’t recall when the last time he heard such notes in Yuzuru’s voice was – usually there is an invisible wall and then another one behind it…
“And what…Your mother…What will she think?”
“Nothing. She is sleeping in the next room.”
Straightforward as usual, direct and honest and piercing as a flying arrow pointed at one’s heart.
Javier gulps.
“Well…Don’t you even think that… that maybe I simply don’t want to, you know? Perhaps I just prefer staying in my cozy and warm bed to have some proper rest after…”
Javier’s breath catches in his throat as he is waiting for Yuzuru’s reply. There is a momentary pause before Yuzuru speaks barely above whisper.
“You want. And I have a blanket too.”
Not an ounce of shyness or wavering.
Javier huffs. Yuzuru has always been like this.
He stretches, fighting remnants of slumber bravely. Yuzuru’s request is surprising but Javier doesn’t see it as something totally out of this world. Is he not supposed to help his training mate?
Still some answers are better to be obtained.
“Has something happened, Yuzu?”
“Come.”
And then the line is dead.
Javier realizes he is squeezing his mobile phone harder than necessary, there is a vague concern rising somewhere deep inside. He gets dressed quickly, putting on a plain grey hoodie before catching a taxi.
Night air is humid and crisp and Javier shivers involuntarily. He can’t really pinpoint whether it is from cold or from the prospect of his unexpected meeting with Yuzuru. His head is buzzing with various conflicting thoughts: it is simultaneously strange and natural, both right and wrong.
To tell the truth, Javier can never tell where the line is when it comes to Yuzuru, not knowing what to expect and what is expected of him – always too complicated, too hard to grasp and not to crash and burn in the process.
*
Yuzuru is wearing a long white t-shirt as he lets Javier in. He puts a finger to his lips, gesturing to stay silent. He takes Javier by the hand to lead through a badly lit corridor to his own bedroom. He doesn’t utter a word and Javier begins to sweat.
Javier’s heart is thundering against his ribcage and it seems to him that its beating is resonating through the whole building, not to mention Yumi-san, sleeping soundly in her room.
Javier is slowly being eaten alive by the mounting tension and anxiousness and numerous questions at the back of his mind that are very confusing.
Inside Yuzuru’s bedroom everything is in perfect order. It is almost clinical: a tower of notebooks on the surface of a black wood table, his IMac in a sleeping mode and a certain pensive-looking yellow and red teddy-bear on the bedside table, its black beady eyes staring at Javier accusatory.
A comfy full-size bed is already unmade.
“What does it mean, Yuzu?”
Yuzuru is casting his eyes down and Javier watches his eyelashes quiver in the night light against his deathly pale cheeks. He looks completely exhausted; porcelain-doll fragility that makes Javier ache – divinity he thinks – from the aristocratic long neck to the tapered fingertips of those delicate hands.
Yuzuru seems incorporeal and otherworldly beautiful.
A ghost…
Perhaps it is the exact reason why Javier is afraid to touch, worrying that the nightly vision might vanish into the thin air and he clearly won’t survive it.
Minutes are stretching and the prolonged silence is oppressing. Javier is shifting from one foot to another awkwardly. He is alone with Yuzuru in his bedroom in the middle of the night and there is something forbidden in the whole situation, which makes Javier go weak in the knees.
Yuzuru has always been an unsolved mystery to Javier and it seems he likes it that way.
Finally Yuzuru decides that the right moment to speak has come. He sits down on the edge of the bed and Javier can’t tear his eyes away from the milky skin of his slender legs and bare knees.
“Do you think I am strong, Javi?”
Yuzuru is watching Javier intently and his black starless eyes make it impossible to look away, hypnotizing and hyper-focused.
Javier sits down next to him. It seems the right thing to do. If they are about to have a heart-to-heart talk, Javier senses their faces should be on the same level, the distance closed to a permissible minimum.
Yuzuru tenses visibly at Javier’s sudden proximity and Javier is staring at the black crystal beads on his thin wrist, fingers tracing them absentmindedly, still not daring to touch the tender skin.
“Of course, you are very strong, Yuzu. The strongest I know. ”
Yuzuru is chewing his bottom lip nervously and his intake of breath reminds a strangled sob. His eyes are suspiciously shiny and Javier practically jumps out of his skin when he senses long fingers dig into his hand with a frightening force.
“No! No! You are wrong! If I am strong than this won’t happen with me!”
Yuzuru is shaking now. He grabs several empty blister packs from pills and throws them on Javier’s lap in a fit of wild agitation, as if there is Javier’s fault in it as well.
Yuzuru’s voice is ringing with unalleviated despair and turmoil.
Javier can’t believe what he is actually witnessing, his brain refusing to process the information and what it implies, as Yuzuru’s violent outburst is picking up.
“My body is weak! It can’t deal with the pain! See?! See?! It has betrayed me! It betrays me again and again! I hate myself for this!”
Yuzuru is a sheer raw nerve: he is pacing about the room, completely unhinged, his thin arms gesticulating wildly and he reminds Javier of a beautiful bird – caged by an invisible malicious hand; although, Yuzuru’s trap is his own constant strive for perfection by all means, his fear to ask for help in order to not show a merest glimpse of weakness.
It must have been raging inside for a long time, bursting on the outside only when there is no more strength to keep it in.
“Jesus, Yuzu! Does someone know?! Have you told your mother?! How long have you been taking the painkillers? I thought your ankle is mighty fine!”
Yuzuru scowls at him, his lips – a pale thin line. He is on the brink of hysterics and Javier may start counting seconds till he bursts into tears to cry his heart out.
A tight string that is ready to snap any given moment.
Javier puts away the blister packs with trembling fingers. He tells himself he has to stay calm. The degree of trust Yuzuru has just shown him is unfathomable and it makes it difficult to find the right rhythm of breathing to appear unaffected.
It is a tremendous responsibility and there is fear that Javier would do something in a wrong way.
The only thing he knows for sure is that Yuzuru doesn’t need his pity.
“Come to me, Yuzu, please! Just come to me…”
Javier embraces Yuzuru, pulling him into his arms tightly to only begin panicking that perhaps it is too much and he is squeezing way too hard and so he lets go a little an instant later. Now he is holding Yuzuru in his arms, as if the young man is made of glass, as if he is an ethereal cloud of mist, fogging Javier’s ability to think straight.
Yuzuru is sobbing wetly into Javier’s collarbone, slowly deflating in his arms, all inner tension seemingly gone and limbs boneless. Heat is emanating through the fabric of his white t-shirt, as Javier’s hands are sliding over Yuzuru’s protruding shoulder blades in a soothing caress.
Javier sighs in relief as he senses Yuzuru’s breathing finally evening against the skin of his neck.
“Are you despising me?” Yuzuru’s words are paining Javier to no end and his dry, chapped lips feel scorching.
Javier is whispering frenetically, each word carrying a piece of his soul.
“What are you talking about, Yuzu?! I admire you! We’ll make it through somehow! There are people who love you! They’ll help! You have to tell your mother everything and…”
“And you? Do you love me too?”
Javier is tracing tender skin of Yuzuru’s cheek with his thumb, drowning in his dilated pupils. They are so close right now that Javier can possibly see his own reflection in their darkness. Yuzuru is blushing profusely and Javier is at a loss for a word.
Instead Javier simply leans forward, grabs Yuzuru by the neck and kisses his trembling, ready lips – a healing, saving kiss which signifies Life.
Yuzuru freezes in Javier’s hold and his fingers are digging into his shoulders with such force, Javier lets out a strangled groan. He lets Yuzuru assault his mouth – biting and planting stinging kisses, deep and ferocious and aching; he lets Yuzuru loose himself in him.
There is sparkle ignited between them; it is born out of the sheer despair and desire to help at all costs.
Aching tenderness fills Javier to the brim and his head is swimming from a powerful urge to protect this special being. He has never witnessed Yuzuru’s vulnerability in this practically intimate way, his inborn oversensitivity completely on display for Javier to feel.
Javier catches himself thinking that deep down in his heart he is glad to be at Yuzuru’s side at one of such crucial moments.
Javier thrives on the incomparable feeling of being truly needed.
Yuzuru is the first to pull away. His eyes are glassy, as if he has just resurfaced from the depths. He touches his swollen, abused lips – disbelieving and overwhelmed.
Javier takes him in his arms again, burying his nose in Yuzuru’s silky dark hair, inhaling his unique scent which is an epitome of sweetness to him.
Javier wants to scream, yet at the end he only dares to barely whisper.
“From now on I am your painkiller, Yuzu.”
*