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Finally, he looked so peaceful.
Muted gray daylight slipped past their bedroom curtains and allowed Mayoi to look down at his beloved in his arms. His long eyelashes still shone with a faint tear or two, his cheeks stained by a trail that ended either in stains on the pillow or between his slightly gaping lips. The most tempting lips, salty of tears and bitter of blood. The skin was picked at and torn, a faint texture under Mayoi’s thumb as he stroked across his bottom lip.
Shinobu looked like an angel. He always did, but as his face fell into pure, innocent relaxation, Mayoi felt as if he was cradling in his arms not a boy but a cherub. His brow had been furrowed for a long time, as he rocked back and forth, desperately seeking the comfort Mayoi had spent the better part of the past few hours trying to provide. It wasn’t easy on him, not on either of them. Maybe he’d tired himself out.
It’d been raining outside; a happy coincidence. Perhaps the tapping and trickling of raindrops had helped Shinobu find his calm. He always loved rainy days; he loved the scent, the humid breeze, watching the droplets falling down the window. Slowly, gently massaging the dozing boy’s scalp, Mayoi laid, thinking back to happier days. How Shinobu would cling to him tight as they shared a single umbrella, how he would stop in the middle of a downpour to crouch down on the pavement and flash a smile at a frog hopping by or a snail slowly leaving a trail. How he would draw Mayoi’s name on foggy windows, and how they’d inhale the metallic scent of rain on one another in a kiss. Shinobu was always able to make something so ugly and misunderstood seem special, and truly beautiful.
That’s why he’d always be there. Mayoi had vowed to himself a long time ago. Even on days that are memorable in a different kind of way, a way that’s not so gentle or kind, he would always be there. Shinobu had seen so many of his ugly days, his scary and uncomfortable days, but nothing was ever able to shun him away. Even at times where Mayoi made himself believe that would be the better outcome, Shinobu always stayed. He stayed, to be there when no one else was. To listen, even when he didn’t understand. Mayoi’s heart had found a steady rhythm by now, beating with a resolve that ached to reflect the love he’d been shown.
Mayoi watched his face intently. His bangs didn’t quite cover his expression like they normally did, strewn around differently and leaving gaps for Mayoi to admire him through. He’d been pulling at his scalp. Pulling at his hair, to make it all stop. He had been so overwhelmed, leaving his hair such a mess. Poor, poor baby. Mayoi could barely contain himself from hugging him tighter, instead allowing himself just to massage the back of his head deeper as he cradled his head. Shinobu’s grip on him didn’t budge, arms wrapped tight around his chest and a single leg draped over his hips, pulling him in close by the thigh. Possessive and desperate, so unlike the Shinobu he showed the rest of the world. Little tendencies that, in a moment of weakness, he just couldn’t conceal. It was all right; Mayoi would hold him right back.
It didn’t happen often. Mayoi couldn’t help but guess that his boyfriend hid it from him whenever it did happen. He wouldn’t be upset over it. He understood, better than most would. Ugliness, weakness, dependency, … Mayoi had spent a long time believing they were better off bottled up and hidden away. But this darkness, this uneasiness inside of Shinobu would show through the cracks, it wasn’t something he could help. Mayoi had never felt anything but the desire to love and protect him. Mayoi’s truest, most perfect Shinobu would not be himself without these few shameful, crooked puzzle pieces to complete him. It took a long time to introspect and understand the feelings Shinobu must also share towards him.
Gingerly, Mayoi brushed his thumb against Shinobu’s cheek. Back and forth, slowly, a painstaking amount of love stored in the smallest, most inoffensive touch he could muster. Mayoi’s heart ached, channeling intense feelings through gentle touch, praying his quiet message would reach its recipient. It didn’t take long for a fresh tear to fall and wet Mayoi’s skin, too. This time, a peaceful tear. Lonely and quiet, a thick, salty droplet Shinobu likely didn’t realize he was going to shed.
Once more, Mayoi’s thumb met the younger’s quivering lip. Running his wetted finger along his sensitive flesh, in place of a kiss he couldn’t let himself claim right now. Maybe Shinobu hadn’t felt the same, Mayoi thought, as he felt the boy’s upper lip meet the other, pressing down into a small, featherlight kiss which encircled Mayoi’s fingernail. He continued, lazily scattering open mouthed kisses along the thumb that rested on top of his lips. Mayoi couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a bit surprised, his eyebrows raising as he watched his boyfriend’s ministrations intently.
Either Shinobu's mind had fogged so thoroughly he didn't register the situation fully, or he’d allowed himself to let go of reservations he might have had were they in a less vulnerable position. His kisses became deeper, wetter, engulfing Mayoi’s middle knuckle in what could now finally be called proper ‘kisses’. He remained gentle, but clearly acted impulsively. Emptying his worried head and letting himself seek what felt right in this moment, unashamedly. At this point, it wouldn’t take much longer before he blurred the line between kissing Mayoi’s thumb, and beginning to kitten lick at it, easing himself into a soft suckling motion.
Mayoi could only watch, his heartbeat picking up as Shinobu’s lips timidly swallowed more and more of the length. He couldn’t budge if he wanted to, fixated on a sensation he’d yet to experience before. The pad of his thumb pressed against the back of Shinobu’s teeth, consistently suckled inward down to his thumbnail. Shinobu’s face relaxed as his motions fell into a rhythm. He hadn’t felt the boy shifting his position, not until a cold, trembling hand snuck upward along his wrist, a weak grip holding his hand in place.
Shinobu’s cheeks hollowed out, coating nearly the full length of Mayoi’s thumb with a thin layer of saliva. His head bobbed just slightly, lost in the comfort of a motion he’d grown to forget. Mayoi’s breathing had steadied once more, yet he still couldn’t tear his eyes off of his boyfriend. He felt nothing but unadulterated adoration, being allowed to meet Shinobu’s most innate, intuitive self, even if it was in a short moment of regression.
It seemed as if the boy had succeeded in pacifying himself, his rhythm waning down into mindless suckles over time as he drifted away into a childlike slumber. Mayoi didn’t move, lest he disrupt what remained of Shinobu’s tongue periodically sucking him in, and after a moment, out once more. This wouldn’t have to be something they talk about afterwards, Mayoi had decided by himself. If another such time should arise, whenever it felt right, he would be there. Unashamedly, unconditionally.