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Ryuji had grimaced when he opened the door to his home. It smelled so disgusting to him, the pungent alcohol burned his nose, and threw him back into a place in his younger years he never wanted to go to again.
None of it was his fault. And it was horrible that he had to keep reminding himself of that. It was so easy to muddle through something when you blamed it on yourself. Especially when you've always easily been a screw-up.
The morning sun was peeking through the blinds on his windows. Casting an array of orange light throughout the house, it highlighted various areas of the living room. Especially the lump on the couch, who had left the lamp to the side table. Illuminating the glass of a liquor bottle he couldn't bother with knowing the name of. It hurt too much to even think about the drink. And yet, there it was, practically rubbed in his face.
Nothing about this seemed right. And it wasn’t.
It sucked. It sucked so bad. He was so upset, but he balled up his fists and ignored it like he always had.
Coming back to the apartment with one goal in mind, he wanted to avoid Akira, but it was definitely hard when he was sound asleep on the couch.
They’d bought it together, taking a chunk of their money to purchase something nice , and all the more comfortable. Tying together the room, and making their shared home just a little more complete. Ready to spend the rest of their lives together in bliss, it was funny how excited Akira was when they’d finally managed to get it up and into the room…
Visibly cringing at the memory, one thing stuck. Unwanted in his mind, but there nonetheless.
Akira.
He didn't want to say that name, let alone think about it. But yet, there he lay, slumped and knowingly deep into a hangover.
It hurt his heart, but he had to get moving, and finally take the last step. Ridding himself of dead weight, and pushing on to a new and better life.
So, he did. Ignoring Akira, and moving through the quiet home.
The silence was so loud, and equally
as depressing. Ryuji had always hated the quiet, it made him think too much, and that was never good. Especially in this case, when the only person who could fix that was Akira… and now he'd become a black mass that tossed him into a spiral of bad thoughts.
Nonetheless, he figured today he shouldn’t let that darkness take over. He needed to suck it up and get out of there with his head high.
Opening the fridge to check what the man was surviving on, he noticed the picture on the counter. Laying on its back, soaked in something that smelled rancid, it was difficult to look at as much as it was to smell. Seeing his own face, flaunting the ring Akira had put on his finger, and smiling as his new fiancée kissed his cheek. Arm hung on his shoulder, showing nothing but bliss between the two.
That moment was one of the best in his memory.
But now it made him want to throw up.
Simultaneously, that ring began to burn on his finger, he was tempted to take his ring off and throw it away. Wanting to not even grab a single thing he planned to get, and just… leave .
That would’ve been the easy way out. But this was Ryuji, and he always had to make things incredibly hard for himself.
Instead of getting the hell out of there, he grabbed the one remaining water bottle left in the fridge. Half full, and likely as old as dirt.
Slamming the door shut for added effect, hearing the sauce bottles rattle as he did, his feet stomped into the living room to see the rise and fall of his lover's chest. Black hair was knotted, face squished as he lay on his arm, looking nothing at all like the man he fell in love with. Nothing about the person presented in front of him screamed well put together, and stunning.
He was a shell of what used to be. And it made Ryuji irrationally angry.
Clutching the drink between his shaky fingers, he unscrewed the cap, and dumped the water on Akira.
Watching with some twisted satisfaction as the water splashed into his face and soaked the couch. He was a firsthand witness to the way Akira had come to life, snapping his eyes open, and bolting up as fast as he could in his stupor.
Groaning, and smoothing back his greasy hair, he blinked away all the sleep. Just as he began to wake up, he’d rolled his shoulders, and about every bone in his body creaked. The sun filtering in was hugging his frame, showing off his watery eyes and pale skin.
It took only a few more seconds for his gaze to settle on who was the one responsible for the water. Not seeming quite phased by the man standing with his arms crossed, face red with adrenaline, and a mix of fury.
"Get up." Ryuji demanded, praying his voice didn't break.
Akira buried his head in the blanket again, hiding himself away from the other, and Ryuji yanked it from him just as quickly, "Get up! Get the fuc- get up!"
Don't be like your dad. Control your anger, you're only hurting yourself. He preached in his head. Don’t hit him. Keep your hands to yourself and be calm about this.
Dropping the blanket and growling in frustration, Ryuji stepped back, and away to the kitchen again. Having enough of the toxic behavior of his fiancée, and aiming to create some drama himself.
He’d swung the door to the refrigerator wide open again, taking a wine bottle and throwing it as hard as he could on the ground.
Watching as the glass and red liquid splashed on the linoleum flooring, it felt good to do it.
Akira peered over the couch and watched as Ryuji took a liquor bottle from the counter and slammed it down, mixing with what was already there. Like nothing, he was on to the cans next, closing his eyes they exploded upon hitting the floor.
The drunken man stood, and made his way to watch the blond throw more onto the ground. Wobbly in his trek, he’d made it just in time for an empty bottle to smash into the stovetop. Reaching into the cupboard where Akira had hid some alcohol, and where he’d long ago found the alcohol, Ryuji ripped the whole shelf out.
Glass shards had sprung up in the air, and blood started to seep through his socks
Although destructive, he’d never quite felt as energetic and alive more than he did in this moment.
Leaning against the frame of the entrance to the kitchen, the other watched Ryuji finally lose it. Huffing heavily as he looked around the now messy room, and up to Akira silently staring at him.
"I hate you." Ryuji sneered, wiping a tear from his eye with his palm as he glanced at the glass bits by his feet, "I hate you so much... I hate you."
…
The man had just stared back, mouth shut.
He said nothing, and it infuriated Ryuji, "Say something! Why are you like this- why!? Why did you-"
He was frustrated, and had every right to be. But fuck everything if he was going to stand there and have a breakdown to someone who didn’t even have the guts to respond.
Disregarding the pain in his feet, and feeling the wetness of blood paint the floor, he stepped over broken bottles, and made his way to their bedroom.
This was going to be it.
It was all going to end like this.
Desperate to pull off his clothes from hangers, he could hardly see anything through tears. Sliding his suitcase from under the bed, his hands seemed to move faster than his own mind, aiming for one thing and one thing only.
To get out.
Bundling up a shirt, and moving to toss it into the suitcase, he stopped when he caught a glimpse of Akira standing in the doorway. The picture on the counter was now in his hands, pressed against his chest, "Don't leave me. Please."
Of course he’d say something like this.
Ryuji fought the urge to say nothing to the practical stranger hovering in the door. But chose to get his last bit of sense into their relationship.
"Why? Why the FUCK should I stay? I'm not good enough. I was never good enough for you, and as hard as I tried to convince myself otherwise, deep down inside, I knew I was wrong." He threw the shirt in the bag and moved to the drawers.
Stepping into the room, Akira had grabbed Ryuji's wrist before he could pull the dresser open. Cringing at his touch, and at the tears streaking down his face it would only be natural to be disgusted at his half assed: "I'm sorry."
He wasn’t. He wouldn’t ever be sorry.
Yanking out of his grasp, Ryuji turned away from the pathetic sight, becoming utterly revolted by his actions, "No… No you're not sorry."
"I love you." He whispered, the room a cool blue now as the sun rose even higher.
Like hell he did.
Like fucking hell.
Love wasn’t anything like this, and it took so long for Ryuji to figure all of that out before it truly damaged him for life. Love was kind, and warm, and what they shared now was horrid, and ugly.
Ryuji shook his head trying hard to seem strong as he said what he’d always wanted to, "If you loved me, you wouldn't have tried to cheat on me Akira.”
It was so painful to remember when he’d found out about it. Getting a picture and accompanied text on his phone about the whole situation while he waited for his fiancée to get home.
“You wouldn't drink to avoid me if your love was genuine, you absolute cunt. YOU KNEW! You knew how much I hated alcohol!" He spewed like it was natural, knowing deep down he had held every bit of hatred for the man inside his mind for too long.
"I'm sorry Ryuji, I'm sorry." He had started to cry too.
He didn’t deserve to cry.
He didn’t get to cry when Ryuji can remember grabbing his keys, sprinting out of their home, and driving frantically to the work party Akira was attending. Hoping and praying the whole way there that it all was some cruel joke.
"Everyone hates you. I hope you know? Futaba and Makoto won't talk to you, they refuse to. Sojiro won't let you stay with him. Ann and Haru can't look at you without crying at what a shit person you’ve become. And Yusuke is disgusted by you." Ryuji stepped away from the man who was practically sobbing, feeling pity for the pathetic display in front of him.
He grabbed another pair of pants and put them in his suitcase, "You have no right to cry! It's all your fault everyone doesn't want to be around you."
“You did this to yourself. You sacrificed our love for your own selfish desires, and you ended this relationship, Akira.” He spat.
Akira tried to take clothes from the suitcase, pulling them out in an attempt to make Ryuji stay. Pathetically locking a blurred gaze with the blond, he tried to breathe easily through his wobbly chest that tried to catch up with his rapidly beating heart, "I- I wasn't- I didn't know what I had. I should've never..."
All Ryuji could do was stare down at the man on his knees.
"My whole life. I was worried I was never enough, and when you told me you liked me, I realized that maybe I was wrong. Maybe I could actually have someone love me. " Ryuji tore into Akiras eyes with his own.
"I do love you... You're the best thing- I was wrong." Akira continued to cry.
It was probably about a month ago when Ryuji burst into that party and caught his lover with another guy. The initial shock and despair wasn’t nearly enough, it wasn’t over and wouldn’t be for a long time. He’d hurt Ryuji to the point of depression he’d never felt before. And every day after the incident kept getting harder and harder.
Quickly, he watched the man he still somehow loved change when Ryuji prompted him with leaving, and breaking up.
Ryuji began to sob himself at the memories of his life falling apart again, crashing to his knees at the end of the bed. Cries ringing out in the empty home, yellow sunlight lighting up the top half of Akira's face… his sullen, baggy eyed, and ugly face.
"You were bored of me!" He shouted and caused Akira to grimace, the situation sobering him up a bit.
He shook his head, reached forward and wrapped his arms around Ryuji's shoulders. Sinking next to the blond in a tight hug just as he had began to gasp for breath between his tears
It was so sickening to feel his embrace.
But, he still fell into it like the sucker he was, falling into old habits after all this time.
Turning his head, Ryuji rested his face on Akiras chest. Feeling lanky, slender fingers slide their way into his hair. Moving around and comforting like they'd always done. The two sat on the hardwood of their bedroom as the morning sun began to wake the city up. Nobody beyond the two of them knew what was going down inside the apartment. And they’d all go about their day without watching a partnership crumble.
The black haired man's shirt was soaked with tears, fingers surfing through the prickly yellow strands of someone he'd hurt so deeply. Someone he loved so dearly, but had apparently thought was wearing him down.
It was one kiss.
It really was.
But Ryuji had seen it, finally finding his future husband in some darkened corner of the house. Frozen in place as he watched Akira pull away from the monster that wreaked everything. Widened eyes met each other, and he'd scrambled to get up as Ryuji spirited away.
It was a coworker, someone Ryuji had met before at previous gatherings. Someone who looked a bit mad when Akira had mentioned the pairs engagement.
Sure, he had expressed his distaste for the person long ago to Akira. But never in a million years believed they’d do something like that. Holding on to each other at a company party, and exposing their closeness to their other coworkers
God bless the one secretary who spotted them moving to a different room after Akira had too many drinks. Texting Ryuji straight away a photo of the two hugging on each other, and asking him to get there before something bad had happened.
When Akira finally caught up to Ryuji, it was at home. Watching as he cried relentlessly, packing a bag to leave just as he was now.
He asked the man why he did what he did, and got a horrible answer in response.
“I was hitting a slump and wanted something new, I’m sorry, it was a mistake.”
He wanted something new.
That implied that Ryuji was old, and worn out. And it broke his heart probably even more than seeing his fiancée be kissed by another.
“You’re a dick. I loved you, I loved you unconditionally and you became bored of me.” He has thrown back that night, planning to go to the nearest friend's house to completely break down.
Akira had nothing to say to it.
But after Ryuji had told him they were through, and that he was on his way to Ann’s, is when he tried to fix what he broke.
“Please let me make this up to you, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. I know I fucked up but I want to fix this,” he pleaded, tugging on the overnight bag Ryuji had packed in a hurry, “It was one stupid kiss-“
Ryuji stood in the doorway, eyes puffy and swollen, face entirely red due to the tears. Staring down the man he wanted to marry with nothing but hatred, “You should’ve thought of all of that before you destroyed it. I’ll be back when I’m cooled down.”
Pulling away, Akira could feel the repercussions, “I’m sorry, I love you.”
Shaking his head, the blond scoffed, “Goodbye, Akira.”
… and by the next morning, the former team leader had woken up to dozens of texts flaming him for his actions. Even Akechi was pissed off.
But somehow, Ryuji still loved him. And was willing in his kind, but bruised heart, to make it work. Despite all the protests from their friends and family, he sucked it up and went back.
Losing Ryuji had made him realize what he truly had.
Even when he returned to the apartment to try and mend things, everything had just felt wrong. He was giving Akira the cold shoulder, sleeping in the spare room, locking himself away, and crying so much he made himself sick. Not able to listen to a single thing that came from the mouth of a man who cheated on him without it being painful.
When things started looking even remotely better, Ryuji would be overwhelmed by the image of Akira kissing another. And would back away.
They needed professional help, and they had both known it but- one half of the equation had a better solution.
He wanted to break up, and start a new life without Akira. Never forgiving the man for what he did throughout the entire time they’d been trying to heal.
Alcohol was a solution to the feelings Akira had over ending their relationship, and he'd been drunk every day since he'd started two weeks ago. Numbing the pain of Ryuji's hatred, and of everyone ignoring him.
Without a second thought as to how the drinking would effect the one person he wanted, the guy drowned his sorrows in a bottle. Becoming lazy, disgusting, and pathetic to push away the final moments of the one thing in his life that has ever made him happy.
Somehow through it all, Ryuji still wished for things to mend themselves. And still had a bit of love left in him for Akira. Even if that fact made him want to jump off the nearest building, and had made everyone around them unbelievably angry.
Laying on the cold floor now and hugging tightly onto the man he still loved, Akira spoke evenly, “I leave for rehab in two days.”
Ryuji lifted his head, rubbing at the tears, “You did?”
Akira nodded, the smell of alcohol still coming from his breath, “I did.”
Silence met them in the middle for a bit.
“Do you think we could honestly make this work again Akira? You fucked up, you- you fucked me up.” The blond sighed, pulling away and looking at the man.
Not wanting to look into the saddened eyes, Akira stared at the ground, “If you’ll wait for me after the program, I’ll try my best to make up for what I’ve done to you.”
Furrowing his brow at the likelihood, Ryuji too chose to look at the floor, “That seems a bit hard to reach. The others would kill me if I took you back- I feel like an idiot for wanting you back.”
Nodding, Akira recognized his faults, “I’m willing to put in the work if you are. Even if it doesn’t pan out in the end.”
Sucking in his bottom lip, and thinking for a moment, it felt wrong to think, but somehow Ryuji didn’t want things to fix so easily.
It didn’t seem correct for them to be fixed so easily, to go back to kissing passionately, and living like lovers.
“You’re a horrible person, Akira.”
Knowing it, and thinking it himself, the owner to that title closed his eyes, “I know I am.”
“… but I want to see this through. I don’t want us to end.” He finished. Feeling guilty for even wanting to mend such a messed up relationship.
Akira reached over, and grabbed Ryuji’s hand, thumbing at the ring he put there in the first place, and feeling the weight of his actions.
What felt the heaviest, was what was about to come.
“I love you, Ryuji.” He tried, knowing he’d never take looking at his face for granted ever again. Soaking up the unique energy between the two of them in case it ever fizzled out again.
Ryuji sighed deeply knowing he couldn’t possibly answer that genuinely after everything Akira did. His feet were still actively bleeding, and all he wanted to do was get himself out of the awkward situation, and in to trying to mend things.
… if that was even possible.
He could only nod, “That’s good.”