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Marking the weretiger as his own has been a very special thing for Akutagawa. That beautiful skin of his just begged to be marred with bites and hickeys and fingerprints - his, specifically, because who else was allowed to treat his weretiger that way? No one.
He always took time to admire his handiwork after sex, relishing the sight of the weretiger blissed out and mellow, and without a shred of a doubt belonging to him alone. He’d trail the hickeys with his fingers, joining them in fancy constellations, he’d lick the bitemarks to memorise the way they felt against his tongue, each accompanied by the weretiger’s pretty voice at the time of creation. A sensual memory, almost sweet despite the sharp tang of possessiveness. He didn’t think himself capable of such emotions before weretiger.
It was all the more frustrating to see them fade within hours. The tiger regeneration, while infinitely useful anywhere else, could work a little slower in these cases, Akutagawa thought. He’d enjoy seeing those marks the following day, during some mundane activity like shopping. He’d enjoy commenting on it to see how the weretiger got flustered. It always suited him so.
When his wish was granted, Akutagawa found himself full of unadulterated rage.
“What. The hell. Is that? Weretiger,” he demanded, as calmly as possible, his fist twisted in the weretiger’s shirt collar and his teeth bared.
“What are you talking about?” the weretiger had the gall to ask, his hands raised defensively - as if it would matter should Akutagawa really want to hurt him.
Which he almost, almost, almost did want then.
“That!” he snarled, jerking the shirt’s collar aside. The fabric ripped, revealing much more of the weretiger’s skin - and the reason for Akutagawa’s rage.
There was a hickey just under the weretiger’s collarbone, glaring bright against pale skin. Anger, always a close companion, turned to fury burning in Akutagawa’s veins. To think that the weretiger, his weretiger, allowed someone else to leave such a lewd mark on him - what else did he allow? For someone to touch him that way, for someone to breach the intimacy between the two of them - did he submit to someone else the way he did to him, did he leave scratch marks upon someone else’s back? And barely some time ago, by the looks of it. Anger turned to fury turned to rage turned to something unnameable and monstrous at the thought.
He could never deal well with jealousy after all.
“It’s yours!” the weretiger exclaimed, baffled.
“Do you take me for a fool?”
“No, really, it is!” he insisted. “Come on, you left it yesterday!”
“Exactly so,” Akutagawa snarled. The weretiger looked sheepish at the mention of their past activities, the blush pretty on his cheeks, but at the moment Akutagawa couldn’t quite enjoy the sight. “They fade much quicker than that!”
“I know! And, I, I really hated that, I wanted- wanted them to last,” the weretiger said in a rush, red creeping all over his face. “So I was trying to control my regeneration to-- But this is the only one I managed to keep so far.”
The air seemed to utterly leave Akutagawa’s lungs as he stood there, watching the weretiger’s face. The need to believe him was almost painful, expanding through his body, filling every blood vessel to bursting point. His weretiger was earnest after all, incapable of guile almost to a fault…
He pulled the weretiger closer, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity and finding none.
“Do you promise?” he implored, his grip slackening. “Do you swear it is so, weretiger?”
“Yes, of course I do, you idiot,” the weretiger wrapped his arms around Akutagawa’s back, finally finding better use for them. “I don’t want anyone else to touch me the way you do.”
Akutagawa buried his face in his weretiger’s neck, holding on to him. And to think that for a terrifying, horrible moment he was convinced he’d lost him, just like that. The world would rue the day if it ever happened.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, voice tense with emotion. “You belong to me. Don’t you ever forget that.”
“I know,” came the weretiger’s soft reply, along with a kiss against Akutagawa’s temple. “Trust me a bit more, won’t you?”
Akutagawa made a sound, tightening his embrace. If anyone deserved his full effort, the weretiger did.
“And, uh, you kinda owe me a new shirt.”
Akutagawa let out a small laugh, breath warm between their bodies.
“I’ll get you twenty.”