Archive of Our Own

“What happened to me?” 

Akutagawa was bundled up in the softest blanket Atsushi could find in an apartment that wasn’t his own, and sipping a warm tea — which wasn’t as brewed to perfection as Gin would make him, but Atsushi’s was pretty close. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

Before Akutagawa had broken it, the both of them shared a comforting silence that started when this whole mess with the vampires and the Decay of Angels had ended. Without exchanging words and barely any looks, Atsushi and Akutagawa both knew they were not to be separated tonight. They had walked together to Akutagawa’s apartment, each other breathing was the only reassurance they needed. 

It was only inevitable that at one point during the night, that wouldn’t be nearly enough. 

Atsushi took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, his fingers wrapping around the mug tightly. He let out the breath. 

“It’s a long story,” he settled with, after a while of silent contemplation. 

“I don’t need the mission report, Jinko,” Akutagawa rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Akutagawa. You died — by saving me , by the way. Then, next thing I know, you’re a vampire and you’re trying to kill me.” 

Atsushi was trying to reign in his fury, the fiery ball that existed inside him that only Akutagawa was able to awaken. 

“At least some things don’t change,” Akutagawa tried to joke. 

Suddenly, they both heard broken ceramic fall on the floor. Tea was splashing on the table, dripping to the floor and echoing around them. Atsushi stood with tea-soaked hands and tiger claws. 

“That’s not funny.” 

Akutagawa’s stoic expression broke briefly, long enough for him to look down in mild shame. Atsushi grabbed a paper towel and started to clean the mess he made, carefully brushing off the ceramic pieces to the trash. The silence was the loudest it’s ever been between them, and this time, it was anything but comforting.

“I don’t regret it, weretiger,” Akutagawa said. He surprised himself by how gentle his voice sounded, how soft his tone was. He didn’t know exactly why, but he wanted to comfort Atsushi.

The white-haired boy looked up from drying his hands, a hint of red sneaking into his purple and yellow eyes. He glared at him. 

“Yeah? Well, maybe you should,” Atsushi scoffed. He sounded like he was going to cry, Akutagawa noticed (and panicked). Before he could even think of a way to respond, Atsushi continued: “Did you even think about how I would feel? Leaving you there?! And just having to continue trying to save the world, as if mine wasn’t absolutely destroyed?”

Tears were starting to roll down Atsushi’s cheeks. He was screaming now while holding on to his heart, as if he was trying hard to catch his breath. Akutagawa was stunned.

“I… I honestly didn’t think you would care this much.” 

They looked at each other — Atsushi glared while Akutagawa’s wide gaze was innocent. The tension surrounding them was electric and delicate. One wrong move, and it would all crumble down. Atsushi gave up the fight, sighing. He walked over to Akutagawa’s side of the table, sitting down on the floor next to his chair, and laid down his head on his lap. He was barely putting any weight on him, though, afraid of the repercussions of such an intimate move. 

“I didn’t, either,” Atsushi whispered. “At least, I didn’t know just how important you’ve become to me.” 

Akutagawa hesitantly laid a hand on top of white hair, and started caressing it — sinking his fingers between soft locks of hair. They stayed like that, neither knowing what to say without breaking the moment between them. Akutagawa has never been good at saying the right thing, in fact, he’s insanely talented at always saying the exact opposite. He didn’t want to ruin this, like he’s ruined so many other things in his life. He looked down at the weretiger in his lap, the one with the closed beautiful eyes and soft hair. The one who was trusting him so wholeheartedly when he had so many reasons not to. 

“The only thing I was thinking about, at that moment, wasn’t saving the world or even following Dazai’s orders,” Akutagawa’s voice was so painfully soft and slow. “I was just thinking about you, that you had to survive. That if I was going to die regardless, what a sweet way to go saving you would be.”

“That’s not fair,” Atsushi screwed his eyes shut tightly, as if in denial of his tears already escaping them. 

“I wanted to have a choice,” Akutagawa continued, petting his weretiger’s head. “And I chose you. I chose to save you, and I chose to have you be the last thing I saw.”

“Stop,” Atsushi sobbed, shaking his head in denial. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You said you didn’t regret it,” Atsushi argued, sniffling. 

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t regret hurting you,” Akutagawa said, moving to caress Atsushi’s face — softly touching his eyebrows, his eyelids, his lips, his cheeks, all the while looking at him with fond fascination. 

“Did turning into a vampire also turn you into a sap?” Atsushi giggled, moving his head from his lap so he was staring right at the other’s eyes in fond delight.

Akutagawa wanted to bottle it all up. 

“It appears so.”

“Just for me though, right?” Atsushi asked, his tone was teasing but Akutagawa could tell he actually needed reassurance. 

“Is there anyone else?” Akutagawa smiled, the first real one he’s done in possibly his entire life. “Silly little weretiger.”

Atsushi was in awe. He needed to remember this moment — his smile, his heartbeat, his gray-eyed fond faze, the upcoming kiss — for as long as he lived, which hopefully with his partner by his side now, would be a long time.