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it had felt so real.
the wind rushed through his blond locks and cooled his sweat-soaked forehead, the feeling of dried blood had settled into his pores and the stiff cotton of his white shirt ( staining it red like the floor of his shower and the callouses of his hands. ). the bodies had piled around him, their faces blurred together in a murky mist of rage as another bullet rang throughout the room. it clinked off the wall and fell onto the concrete floor of the warehouse.
one body stood out from the rest though, one body broke the rage ash felt and scraped at his soul with dagger-like claws. matted black curls contrasted the crimson blood pooling from the shot in his forehead, eyes open and visible. the skin peeling around his dark olive skin.
bile builds up in his throat.
he pushes it down with a gulp of air - silently shivering with terror and pain. ash knew how to stay silent - he knew how to bottle these emotions up.
even so, despite the left side of his brain insisting eiji is fine and that it was all a dream - ash still shakily stands up from his bed and patters over to eiji’s own.
and of course, like he knew deep down, eiji was fine. he was curled around the covers in one of ash’s tattered shirts - ( it’s big and swallows his whole body in a mess of green and blue fabric. ) - one leg sticks out from the comforter and reveals a thick wooly nori-nori sock that ash had gifted him ( “ i know this doesn’t nearly make up for all the pain i have caused you -” “i love it ash” )
his hair is tousled and he looks so tranquil it makes tears well in ash’s eyes and guilt seep into his skin ( like that stupid oat-milk facemask eiji had made him put on after a particularly grueling night left his skin dry and peeling ). this is the way eiji should always look - calm and beaming like he still believed the world was perfect. ash wishes he could make it perfect for him.
the sudden urge to throw his things into a duffel bag and leave eiji enough money to get home to japan seems awfully compelling. he could get alex to relocate the gang - there would be no way for eiji to find them if ash didn’t want him to.
that would be the right thing to do.
but ash has never done the right thing - so his feet stay planted and he calms himself by gently placing his fingers onto eiji’s pulse point, inhaling with every beat of his ( still working ) heart. then miraculously, without hesitation, the soft doe-eyed boy who is made of lilac shampoos and warm green tea, leans into the murderous whore’s hand. and if ash wasn’t crying before, he surely is now because this is wrong.
everything about this is wrong.
eiji sleeping in his shirt, eiji leaning into his touch, eiji risking his life for a broken boy who has taken so many, eiji’s unconditional love that flows through his movements even in slumber.
all it takes is a single tear to wake up eiji, a small drop of weakness landing on his nose and sliding down the slope, for him to rouse from his peaceful state with fluttering lashes that tickle ash’s hand ( which still lay upon his neck ).
sleepiness heavy in his voice and emphasizing his accent he mutters a soft, “ ash? “ but it sounds almost like a kitten sneezing out a small, ‘ ashu .’ ash’s heart aches in his hollow chest.
it seems eiji finally sees the tears as he tilts his head and scoots up, “ are you okay? ”
eiji knows ash isn’t - but the fact that he asks makes the blond feel a little less broken and gives him control of the situation. ( but really ash is never in control around eiji. )
he tries to answer but the bubble in his throat comes out in a choked hiccup.
“ would you like to talk about it? “
he shakes his head.
“ would you like to lay with me? “
he nods.
in his vulnerable state he allows his weak bones to sink into eiji’s bed ( which has always felt softer - though he doubts it’s because of the mattress ).
“ would you like if i held you? “ sensing his apprehensions, eiji tries again, “ it would be like a hug - but laying down. it helps me feel better. “
“ yes. “
curling around eiji like a cat, ash inhales his flowery shampoo and strawberry shortcake lotion - it smells like how he’d imagine home to be. not that he has any reference.
he lets the tears flow freely now, with soft fingers running through his hair and drawing different shapes around his back. these hands don’t pull, they don’t tug so hard crimson dyes his scalp. they don’t force his jaw open and push his legs. they use soft caresses against his hair, touching him as though he was a fragile emerald made of all the good the world has none of.
these hands trace gentle words that spell ‘i love you.’ or ‘i’m sorry’.
“ i’m scared of myself. “ ash admits, once his tears have effectively soaked through eiji’s tee, “ i’m scared of what i’m doing to you. “
eiji says quiet, and then oh so gently lifts his head from his chest, cradling it between his calloused hands. his eyes are big and brown and never hold judgement - only sweetness and love. pure, unadulterated love.
“ ash, do you remember why i came to america? “
“ you had an accident. “ he whispers, leaning into his smaller hands.
“ yes, but that isn’t all, “ his smile is sad and he leans his head against ash’s. a mess of black and blonde swirling together like ice cream melting on a warm summer’s day, “ when i came here i was very, very sad. i felt as though i had lost everything, like my dreams had been crushed and so had my future. but then you came. “
he softly kisses his forehead, “ and you have me the light that my injury had snuffed out. but aslan, it was different - “
here it comes, he thinks sadly, here comes the rejection. the hatred he’s been keeping secret and holding against ash. not that it was unwarranted, no ash deserves this.
“ - and your light was brighter than anything i had ever known. it still it. it lights me up from the inside out, your light made me believe that there was something more of me than pole vaulting. everything that has happened ash, everything you have done, it healed the wounds i thought would never fade. “
“ eiji i-i…” the words get lodged his throat, like they always do, and he can’t express how he’s feeling. for that feeling is so big it expands his chest and inflates him like a balloon.
“ i know ash, i love you too. “
eiji, sweet perfect eiji, doesn’t get upset that ash can’t manage to slip the words past his tainted tongue. he just leans in - so slowly - before asking a question no one else has before, “ may i kiss you? “
and all ash can do is tilt his head down and capture velvet lips that taste like french vanilla creamer and something entirely eiji.
it’s slow and sweet and lulls ash back into a sleep.
his dreams are much happier.
and he realizes that so is his reality.