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Eiji's been wondering for a while when the right time to say I love you is.
He's not afraid of it—not really. He knows that he loves Ash, and he doesn't see why he shouldn't tell Ash, really. He deserves to know. Ash deserves to know that someone loves him.
But he's still a little ... nervous, maybe. It's okay if Ash doesn't say it back—Eiji wouldn't blame him. Not in a self-deprecating, I don't deserve to be loved way (though that too, honestly), but just in a way acknowledging that things like that might be hard for Ash. Things like love.
Eiji leans back onto his heels, then plops down onto Ash's bed in the condo.
How do you say I love you to someone who's only ever been loved in ways that hurt them?
Curling up into Ash's spot, Eiji closes his eyes and just thinks about it, like he has every night for quite a while now. Just thinks about how much he loves Ash, and how—if—he's going to tell Ash that. If he's going to explain to Ash exactly what he means to Eiji, and what that might mean for both of them. Together.
All Eiji wants from Ash is nothing. All Eiji wants for Ash is everything.
Like trying to get back on track, but flying off the rails instead. Nothing stays steady. Nothing goes the way it's supposed to.
Even love. Especially love.
But what else is a boy to do, than tell the one he loves how he feels? Eiji's never felt this way before. It's silly, of course, but he feels like no one has ever felt this way before. Like the emotions he's feeling now, these thoughts squeezing his heart in his chest, are unique to him. Him and Ash. Like no one has ever been as in love with someone as Eiji is with Ash.
And, objectively, of course that isn't true. Love is a quintessential part of the human experience for so many people, and Eiji surely isn't alone in his experience of it. But he wants to pretend that he is. He wants to pretend that love was made for him and Ash, and the two of them alone.
Eiji shifts a little on the bed, making sure he's exactly in the spot where Ash usually lies. He brings his knees up toward his chest, like how Ash sleeps, with his wrists together by his head. He's above the blankets—he doesn't want to invade Ash's space too much, but he wants to ... wants to be close.
Eiji shuts his eyes.
He often takes Ash's spot like this when Ash is gone—wishing he could take Ash's place in other ways, too. But tonight, unlike the other nights, he falls asleep like that, never quite making it back to his own bed.
Eiji drifts through sleep, not quite dreamless, but not anything he'll remember, either. Like wading through rising water. Like drowning, swallowing and breathing in the ocean until maybe maybe maybe the water level drops enough to save you.
Like running through a rye field toward an unmoving figure that never gets closer. A figure with platinum blonde hair and, when he turns to face Eiji, his eyes are a familiar green, but Eiji can't quite get close enough to say I love you I love you I love you—
"Eiji?"
Ash.
Eiji tries to open his eyes, but they feel heavy. He doesn't want to move.
"Oh, Eiji," Ash says, breathing out a laugh. "Wrong bed, dumbass."
Still, Eiji hears as Ash sits down on what's supposed to be Eiji's bed, hears as the the sheets shift and move. It's silent for a few moments, and then Ash sighs and stands again.
More fabric moving, buttons and zippers as Ash changes his clothes. Eiji fights to keep from blushing, making sure his eyes stay firmly closed.
Then Ash is at the bedside again, next to Eiji. The proximity is electric, even without sight. Eiji can feel how close Ash is.
Touch me, Eiji thinks, startled at his own thoughts. Hold me.
Ash doesn't, though. Instead, he breathes out a laugh again, then retreats to the other bed. "Guess we'll swap for tonight," Ash whispers.
Despite the exhaustion taking over every part of Eiji's body and mind, he forces his eyes open.
"Ash," he mumbles.
"You're awake?" Ash asks, still whispering.
Eiji shakes his head. He's not sure that he is. This feels like a dream, though closer to reality than his last dream.
Ash smiles at him. Not his usual smirk, but a soft smile.
"Are you safe?" Eiji asks.
Ash's smile drops and he blinks, startled. "I'm safe, Eiji," he promises. "Why?"
I love you. "I worry."
Ash sighs, smiling. "Imagine how I feel."
Pouting, Eiji sits up on Ash's bed. "I can take care of myself," he protests.
But Ash just shakes his head. "You shouldn't have to."
I love you. The words are just behind Eiji's teeth, begging to be released on his tongue.
I love you. Do you love me? It's okay if you don't. Love was made for you, but it doesn't have to be for me, too.
"I missed you," Eiji says instead. As close to it as he dares for now.
Ash offers a half smile. "I always miss you," he responds. "Every second I'm gone."
"Then why do you leave?" Eiji pleads.
Ash shakes his head, still with that smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "There are things I have to do. Things I can't avoid doing."
"But—" Eiji starts, then cuts himself off. He bites down on his tongue. He's not even sure what he was going to say next. But you shouldn't have to. But I don't want you to. But I love you.
Ash turns away, sitting down on top of the blankets on Eiji's bed.
"Something on your mind tonight?" Ash asks. "Is there a reason you're in the wrong bed?"
The last part is said almost teasing, but not inviting. More like he's making fun of Eiji than tempting him. It's better, really, than what Eiji might have expected.
Eiji sits up straighter, and rubs the sleep from his eyes. There is a reason he's in the wrong bed, and—as afraid as Eiji is—Ash deserves to know that someone loves him. That Eiji loves him.
"I have something to tell you," Eiji says, dropping his hands.
Ash freezes. He's not looking at Eiji, but not looking away, either—Eiji can see half of his face, illuminated by the city lights from the window.
"What is it?" Ash asks. His voice is carefully controlled.
"It's not a bad thing," Eiji says quickly. "I don't want you to be afraid, okay?"
Ash laughs, but it's anxious. Nervous. He's not nearly as good of a liar as he thinks he is—or maybe Eiji just knows him better than most. "Come on, Eiji, just tell me."
Eiji hesitates. Then, "You don't have to say it back."
Ash looks over, finally making eye contact with Eiji. His eyes are wide, wild, and terrified.
"N-no," Ash says. "No."
"What?"
"Don't say that. What you're—don't."
"Ash, I—"
"Stop!" Ash shouts. He shakes his head, putting his hands over his ears and bringing his knees into his chest like a child. "I don't want to hear you say it."
"Ash ..." Eiji bites down on his lip. What did he do wrong? Ash has to know what he was going to say, right? It's not a bad thing. So what's the issue? Why is Ash reacting like this?
"You can't love me," Ash whispers, confirming that he knows what Eiji was going for. "You can't."
"But I do," Eiji insists. He leans forward on the bed, toward Ash, but Ash isn't even looking at him anymore. He's curled into himself instead, in what's no doubt his own little world of self hatred.
"You can't," Ash says again. "You—Eiji, don't say that. Please."
"Why not? You don't have to say it back, Ash. I understand if you don't love me."
Ash's head snaps up, and he looks at Eiji with that same terror in his eyes.
"It's not that," Ash whispers. "If you say it, I ... I'm so, so afraid that I'll say it back."
Eiji blinks, then frowns. "What ... what's wrong with that?" he asks. Ash is afraid that he'll say it back?
"Eiji ..." Ash whines. "Please. Not now. Not when things are like this."
Eiji's face contorts, frustration overtaking him with a vengeance. "And what if they're always like this?" he demands. "Is that going to keep us from ever saying our feelings to each other? I love you, Ash; I know I do. It's not a bad thing. Let me say it."
"I can't, Eiji—I can't say it back to you. I can't do that to you."
"Do that to me?" Eiji asks, almost offended. "Like your love is such a terrible thing?"
Ash turns to face Eiji, making eye contact. His eyes are darker than normal. "My love kills people," he whispers. "My love is fatal."
Eiji bites down on his lip. Then he stands, approaching Ash.
"Stay away from me!" Ash shouts, panic in his voice. "I can't touch you."
Eiji freezes, despite so much of himself telling him he has to reach out to Ash. Fuck. Fuck!
"Ash," Eiji whispers. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"I'm going to hurt you, Eiji."
"You won't. I trust you."
"You shouldn't."
"I love you."
"You shouldn't!" Ash practically screams. It's silent for a moment after that, the sound echoing through the room. Ash is glaring at Eiji. The green of his eyes seems to fade from jade down to something murky. There's no light in them.
"I love you," Eiji repeats.
Ash frantically shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I love you too," he whines, like the very words pain him. "And I'm so, so sorry."
"You don't need to apologize, Ash."
"You'll take that back." Ash is rocking back and forth on the bed now, holding all his limbs in close to him. "You'll change your mind."
"Why do you think so lowly of me?"
Ash blinks. "What?"
"I—I suppose I know why. But I wish that you would not think the same of me as the others, Ash. I wish you would realize that I do not want to hurt you, and that I trust you not to hurt me."
"I don't think lowly of you, I just—it's me, Eiji. It's all my fault."
Eiji breathes out slowly. "It's the fault of the people who made you think this way about love."
"I love you," Ash croaks. "And I'm so afraid of what that means for you."
"It means that we can love each other. That's all there is to it, right?"
Ash shakes his head. "There's so much more to it than that."
Breathing out a laugh, Eiji takes half a step closer in the small distance between them. "Ash, this is better than I could have hoped for. I was preparing myself, this whole time, for you to not say it back."
"This is worse," Ash says, averting his eyes. "It's worse that I do love you back."
"I do not think so."
"What will it take to change your mind? Are you not going to realize how fucked up this is until I get you killed?"
"Are you not going to realize that you're the only reason I haven't been killed?"
Ash scoffs. "I'm the only reason you were in danger to begin with."
"That's not true! I wouldn't be in danger if people weren't ..." Eiji trails off, looking at Ash. He's not going to get through to him. He's just not. "Oh, Ash," Eiji whispers.
"I'm sorry," Ash mumbles.
"Nothing to apologize for. I love you."
Ash sniffles, then rubs at his eye with his sleeve. Eiji's just glad there's no blood on his shirt tonight. "I love you too," Ash manages. "You're sure that's okay?"
"It's more than okay. It's perfect. I really ... really thought you weren't going to say it back. Which—it's fine, if you don't love me. I was just ..."
"How could I not love you?" Ash whispers, and Eiji's heart stops.
"Huh?"
"You're amazing, Eiji. You're so lovable, and ... not in the ways I am. You're, like—you're beautiful. In every way. Inside and out, everything that you are is just ..." Ash smiles, shaking his head. He's still crying. "You're a force of nature."
"Oh," Eiji breathes. He wasn't ... wasn't expecting that. That's how Ash thinks of him? Not like another one of the cruel monsters he's so familiar with, but ... beautiful?
No one has ever thought of Eiji as beautiful before. He's certain of that.
"I am not so great," Eiji tries. "I think you just have not known very much kindness in your life."
Ash shakes his head. "You're not just kind, Eiji. You're incredible. You're everything good in the world, and you don't even seem to realize how unique you are. How ... how good."
You're the good one, Eiji thinks. Oh, Ash. The tragedy here is that you'll never realize how everything you think of me applies tenfold to you.
Eiji swallows, trying to calm his heartbeat. He ... he was so scared of being another monster to Ash. Another cause of pain. He never would have thought ...
"I love you," Ash whispers. "I'll try to keep you safe from me," he adds, like a promise.
"You've already been keeping me safe from so much," Eiji says softly, trying for a smile. Often at the cost of your own safety.
"I'll keep trying," Ash says, voice pitched high and whiny. "I'll keep fighting for you, okay?"
Eiji rubs at his own eyes now. "Can I sit with you, Ash?" he asks.
"Of course," Ash mumbles. "Of course."
Slowly, Eiji approaches him, sitting almost close enough to touch on what's normally Eiji's bed. "Thank you."
It's silent for a moment.
"I've been so afraid," Ash whispers. "Afraid to lose you. It's terrifying to have something to lose."
"Yeah," Eiji agrees distantly. He resists the urge to bump his shoulder into Ash's.
"I feel like—I needed you in my life, when you came to me, but you didn't need me, you know? And I've never been so afraid to lose someone before. I'm afraid to love you. Afraid to love someone that could be taken. Afraid of what it means for you, and for me. I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't."
"I will."
"You can't know that."
"And yet I do," Ash insists.
"Just stay with me, okay?"
Ash fidgets a little. "Yeah," he whispers. "I don't know if I could bring myself to leave, anyway."
"I'm grateful for that."
"I'm not," Ash says with a mirthless laugh.
"Lay down with me?" Eiji asks.
Ash nearly flinches.
"Just to sleep," Eiji assures. "Just rest with me a while, okay?"
"... Yeah," Ash whispers. "I think we could use some rest."
"You can move back to your bed if it's ever too much," Eiji promises.
"It won't be." Ash smiles, and Eiji can't tell which way he means this. "You could never be too much for me."
"Ash ..." Eiji whispers. "I want you to be comfortable too, okay?"
"... I am," Ash promises quietly. "With you."
"I really do love you."
Ash chews on his lip for a moment. "I love you too," he whispers.
"Don't apologize this time."
Ash smiles. "Let's just sleep this off, okay?"
"It's not going to pass," Eiji promises. "I'm going to love you forever."
"You can't say that and expect me not to apologize for it."
Ash lies down on his back, hands on either side of his head.
Eiji frowns, shaking his head. "No," he says softly. "That's not how you sleep, Ash. We're just sleeping."
Ash shifts onto his side, and Eiji lays next to him, also on his side. They're facing each other.
"Okay?" Eiji asks.
"Yeah," Ash whispers. "This is okay."
"I'll love you in the morning."
"People usually only love me at night," Ash says with another hollow laugh.
"I'll love you in the daylight."