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There was no way in hell they should have made it out alive. That much was obvious to the two should-be rivals, their hot, panting breaths dancing with the chilled breeze coming in from the Yokohama sea. Atsushi’s knuckles were a pale white from the searing vice grip he had on the skin beneath his fingertips. The figure whom Atsushi was attempting to hold up was nearly devoured by the coat; his weak attempts at expelling breath the only sign of life.
Atsushi was fully expecting to meet the fiery claws of death when his eyes peeled open that morning. Soft murmurs passed between parted lips, offering goodbyes to his prized possessions—though he didn’t have the strength to say such words to the ones he’d loved. Therefore it would be pointless to mention the visceral shock that ran through Atsushi’s body when he caught sight of black coattails fluttering in the wind—belonging to one ‘loved one’, as previously mentioned [though Atsushi could never find the courage to admit such]. Needless to say, winning his deadly dance with Fukuchi Ouchi had suddenly become a possibility within reach when Akutagawa appeared.
The fight reignited within Atsushi a constant flame, flitting between hope and despair. The flame was nearly huffed out when Akutagawa delivered one final blow through Fukuchi’s chest with a tendril of Rashomon. Only then was Akutagawa’s final reserve of strength exterminated, despite having to dodge his enemy’s sword endlessly, causing it to just barely miss the delicate skin of his neck. He collapsed directly underneath Atsushi, earning a shocked grunt from the silver-haired boy.
Atsushi wasted no time in scooping him up into his arms, wrapping the pathetic remains of his coat around him as if it was a baby’s blanket. Atsushi filed this moment away as something to reconsider when he would try to rest—something he did often with nearly any encounter with Akutagawa.
Now, he stumbled along Yokohama’s streets, the sun descending along the city skyline and casting an orange hue among everything within light’s grasp. The minute Atsushi’s eyes locked with a wooden park bench, he trudged towards it and flopped himself down, head lolling to the side in exhaustion. Atsushi had suffered, while not nearly as much as his partner, a few injuries, and the biting high of adrenaline was quickly dissipating. It was only when a soft hum fell upon his ears that Atsushi was knocked out of his stupor. His eyes flicked down to the boy in his arms, who was pawing groggily at the blanket resting on top of him. Much to the weretiger’s chagrin, a fond smile was plastered onto his face as he helped Akutagawa pull the coat back enough to free his arms.
“Jinko..?” Akutagawa’s voice, laced with fatigue, had a soft bite of concern and overall confusion. He had managed to express a clear message with one word: What the fuck happened?
Atsushi shivered, unable to answer as his own questions were running a marathon in his head. He let his head fall back, his eyes drifting towards the sky painted in shimmering blues and magentas. He let out a heavy breath, feeling as if he was exhaling the weight of everything pressing around him. “Fukuchi Ouchi is dead.” The soft utterance was nearly drowned out by the rush of the sea wind, but he could tell from the way the raven haired boy tensed up that his statement didn’t go unheard.
“You sure?”
“I watched his body fall into the sea, Akutagawa!”
A soft growl escaped from his lips. Atsushi could feel him try to adjust and he immediately laid a hand on the small of his back, pushing him down again. “Rest.” He whispered. His heart betrayed his inner wishes for it to slow as his eyes rested on a pair of silver ones.
After a soft click of the tongue, Akutagawa laid back down, curling up in Atsushi’s lap with a soft animalistic huff. “Is Dazai-san safe?”
Atsushi couldn’t bring himself to admit how mildly disappointed he was by that statement. Some miniscule part of him had begged Akutagawa to utter a simple ‘how are you feeling?’; though the majority of him was dead set on keeping Akutagawa alive.
In lieu of an answer, Atsushi simply tilted Akutagawa’s head towards him with three fingers pressed to the bottom of his chin.
What happened within the next moments was something neither would speak publicly in future conversations. It was a safeguarded moment between two lost souls, something forever encaptured solely within memories, and brought up only between hushed lips in soft, velvet sheets.
In a severe lapse of judgment Atsushi rested his forehead against Akutagawa’s, letting their breaths mingle. Common sense was still nowhere to be found when Atsushi pressed their lips together; an event which would be the catalyst to countless other soft kisses shared between the boys.
Atsushi could taste the shock on Akutagawa’s lips, bracing himself for Akutagawa to pull back. Yet Akutagawa seemed to be deepening the kiss further, his entire body fervently pressed against Atsushi’s. The coat slowly slipped off his arms until it lay uselessly on the concrete.
Though it was only seconds before they pulled apart, to Atsushi it felt like hours . Akutagawa’s nonexistent brow was raised in a challenging arch. It made Atsushi whine softly.
“I’m… really glad you’re alive.” He whispered.
Something visibly changed as soon as those words hit the raven haired boy’s ears. Atsushi swore he could see the beginnings of teardrops welling up and sticking to Akutagawa’s long lower lashes. He pretended he didn’t see such.
“Atsushi.”
Now that brought something more of a visceral reaction from Atsushi. His heart felt as if it’d been given a gentle squeeze. Never once had the Akutagawa boy ever spoken a single syllable of his real name.
“Thank you.”
Atsushi’s coherency was finally slipping back into its place when he felt bony arms wrap around his aching sides and give a weakened, sickly attempt at a hug. “You’re the reason he’s gone. I don’t know why you’re thanking me.” Atsushi whined softly.
Atsushi pretended not to notice the dramatic eye roll from the boy settled in his lap.
—
About an hour had passed when the two ran into a small dilemma. Atsushi had managed to sneak Akutagawa into his dorm without a single question or raised suspicion (though with half the agency members gone it proved less difficult), but there still remained the issue of Akutagawa’s hatred for baths.
“Shower.” The frail boy managed to choke out.
“You.. you can’t shower! You can barely stand! I’m not going to help you shower!” Atsushi’s distress was apparent in the way his voice turned into a near squeak.
“ Show...er.” Akutagawa was more adamant as he replied. His nonexistent brows furrowed.
The two went on back and forth until—finally—Atsushi convinced Akutagawa to let go of whatever qualms against bathing he still may possess and lay in the comfortable water. Of course, Akutagawa only agreed if Atsushi came in too. For safety purposes , he had declared.
Atsushi rested his chin atop Akutagawa’s head as he stroked his arms in a languid, soothing pace, occasionally lifting them over Akutagawa’s head to check for injuries and press kisses on them. He wasn’t so sure as to when this fondness for Akutagawa would have to be locked up again, but for now he wanted to tend to him as much as possible.
Not many words were spoken between the two; but their actions seemed to hold a conversation of their own. After a few minutes Atsushi lifted Akutagawa up by his thighs, making sure to steer clear of any sore areas, and turned him until they were facing each other. The exhaustion of the day had cast such a heavy fog over the two of them they didn’t even mind being naked in front of each other.
Atsushi leaned in, brushing his nose against the soft skin of Akutagawa’s cheek. He gave a few kitten licks, and his chest started to rumble softly, providing a soft vibrating rhythm for Akutagawa to rest upon. A soft “I love you” was whispered in his ear.
Atsushi felt the lithe body beneath him start to tremble. When Akutagawa tried to hide his face in Atsushi’s chest, Atsushi gently lifted his chin up with a finger, whining softly when he saw small streams flowing from his eyes.
“No one’s ever told you that, have they?” Atsushi murmured. Akutagawa’s response was a simple shake of the head. He decided to test the waters a bit further. “Has anyone ever told you how strong you are? How proud of you they are?” That elicited a stronger, more defined tremble in Akutagawa’s small frame.
“I’m.. I’m really proud of you, Akutagawa. I actually am.” Atsushi gave Akutagawa soft, open-mouthed kisses in between the sentences he murmured. “Y-you didn’t kill for me, you know? It’s.. it means a lot. You’re not as bad a person as I thought..”
Vexed, emotionally charged stormy eyes met purple and yellow ones. Akutagawa somehow looked more fatigued than before as he glared at Atsushi. It would take a lot of time for him to digest what he said, but the sentiment was clear. “Shut up, Jinko.”
And the two shared the first of many deep kisses within that dormitory bathtub. It was the first day either of them felt such strong positive emotions towards any human being. It was a connected learning experience. A connected growth.
It was love.