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Hayato had never bruised easily. He had bruised badly, certainly—either from fights or from training—but his bruises had been hard won, typically.
He wasn’t sure what made him notice it, but Nirei bruised like a peach.
Maybe it was the fact that Hayato and the others did their best to keep Nirei away from the worst of the trouble they got into, all too aware of his limitations. He didn’t have the same… risk level, so to speak, as the rest of them. So Hayato was curious as to how he always seemed to be sporting bruises here or there or sometimes everywhere at once.
He began to pay more attention. It wouldn’t do, after all, if someone thought they could pick on Nirei just because he wasn’t as strong as the rest of them. He was still vice-captain, still deserving of their respect. He had nothing to prove.
What he found was not, however, secret bullies lurking in the dark to pounce on the defenseless blond at a moment’s notice, but rather… Nirei was shockingly clumsy.
The corners of desks, door frames, the shin-height bars of a cafe stool; it didn’t matter. If Nirei could run into it, he would. And he didn’t even seem to notice it happening most of the time. He’d take a glancing hit to the side of his thigh, a sharp jab to the soft part of his waist, a solid thunk to the side of his head, and he’d just flinch, laugh, and move along, not even faltering in his sentences.
Hayato was somewhat astounded. He also found himself oddly concerned.
“Nirei-kun,” he called one day after Nirei missed the last step on the stairs and stumbled into the square shaped metal railing at an angle that made even Hayato wince. “Are you alright?”
Nirei turned to look at him with a grin, looking for all the world like nothing at all had happened. “All good!”
Hayato frowned as Nirei stepped onto the landing and turned for the next section of stairs. Before he could move, Hayato caught him by the wrist and tugged him back.
Nirei moved easily under his grip, letting Hayato tug him back and corner him on the landing with more trust than anyone in their particular circle should have. Nirei blinked at him, head tilting like a curious puppy.
“Suo? Something wrong?”
Hayato tried to school his expression but he could feel the faint crease between his downturned eyebrows. Choosing to not answer Nirei with words, he instead reached for his shirt, primly buttoned and neatly tucked into his belted pants. Nirei, for some reason, didn’t even move to stop him as Hayato tugged the shirt loose, unbuttoned the bottom few buttons, and lifted the shirt open to reveal Nirei’s soft, freckles stomach.
Sure enough, right under his ribcage where the railing had hit, there was a reddish-purple line starting to form, bright against his pale skin. Hayato’s frown deepened when he saw a blue bruise higher up on his ribs from something older. And then another one on the front of his stomach, even older but still vivid enough.
“Nirei-kun,” Hayato chided, trying to keep his temper out of his voice. “What is all this?”
Nirei, still standing unassumingly under Hayato’s demanding touch, tried to peer down past his shirt at his own naked stomach. “What’s what?”
Again, Hayato didn’t answer. Instead, he unbuttoned the remaining buttons of Nirei’s shirt and pushed it off his shoulders with little grace, his jacket dropping to the ground alongside it. Nirei let out a startled sound, only just seeming to come to terms with the fact that Hayato was, in fact, stripping him in the middle of the Bofurin staircase (though it was after school… not that that meant much). Hayato ignored that too. There were bruises in varying stages of freshness over Nirei’s arms, and Hayato’s scowl deepened unwittingly.
“Suo—!” Nirei grabbed his wrists when Hayato unbuckled his belt and started on his fly, but he didn’t really try to stop him, so Hayato shoved his pants off with little interlude, leaving them to pool around his ankles, white socks and briefs the only things left truly on Nirei’s black and blue body.
Hayato took in every bruise, scrape, and mark that littered Nirei’s skin, hiding his freckles in swaths of blue and violet. Slowly, he dragged his glare upwards and found Nirei standing stock still, his eyes wide and face flaming red.
“I’m naked,” he hissed when Hayato met his eyes. Hayato’s gaze darted down towards his little boxer briefs. He noticed, unexpectedly, something of a tent in them.
“Not quite,” he offered. Then his eyes narrowed. Come to think of it… “There are probably more, though. I should check. And you should be more careful.”