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Kaneki doesn’t remember much past the aching tickle of the regrowth of bone, muscles torn and tattered reweaving themselves together, the metallic taste of blood leaving plastered patches of dry itch along the edges of his jaw where his mask sat on his face. He does remember the padding of barefeet on creaky floorboards, the sliding of a door, hands and words helping him forward and eventually, into a shower where he may very well stay indefinitely, if he could.
Reality flits in and out and he focuses to keep his eyes level on a spot on the metal of the faucet, but his vision tunnels, black, then white, like static, and he has to lean up against the tile to keep himself upright. The water left a welcome sting that disappeared as quickly as it appeared; he blinked, guilty, at the swirl of steam and pink that teased and poured through the holes of the drain and stuck in the gripping of the shower floor. The harsh of the spray left spatter of the same sort to taint the cracks of the worn grout, and all at once he imagined the red and pink staining Hide’s skin like it had his, and swallowed down a wave of nausea and regret.
Hide was the first place he’d come – synonymous with home, really.
The footsteps leading to the doorway of the bathroom didn’t feel quite like his; he let the chill of the apartment air cool the damp he let run loose over his frame, pooling at his ankles and shoulders. His toes hit carpet and Hide’s scent hits him like a wall. Hide’s curled on the edge of his bed, elbows set hard against his knees, his torso draped in the familiar black of a hooded sweater – Kaneki’s – long forgotten on a strikingly familiar night that could have been like any other, before. Kaneki stares.
“Yo, Kaneki,” he says, eyes trailing upward from Kaneki’s toes to finally meet his eyes. His brow quirks. “At least use a towel, why don’t ya?”
Hide stands and brushes past him, and Kaneki’s eyes fall heavy and dark to the carpet, and his palm settles over his eye in sudden self-consciousness. Shame belatedly sets in. He stills, clarity crashing down hard, and he huffs out a sigh when Hide works a towel through his hair plastered along his forehead and cheeks. “Hide,” he whispers, just to test the name.
“The one and only,” he says back, but it lacks the usual enthusiasm, quiet.
The towel, worn from years of use, settles over his shoulders and Hide holds it there.
“You know, you’ve gotten friggin’ ripped, Kaneki. All muscly and stuff. What happened to you? Look at you!”
Kaneki’s expression cracks. “…Really?” he asks, and when Hide counters “Really!” he’s laughing into a sob that wracks him into something even less stable, like cement giving way to something as freeing and wrecking as the nature beneath.
He leans into the palm set over his eye like a makeshift eyepatch, now shivering despite the towel keeping him decently covered.
“Stop that,” Hide chided, patient, moving to his front to ease his forearm down. “It’s kinda cool, you know? And you’ve been hiding it for god knows how long. I already knew, so who cares already?”
Kaneki’s forehead fits too well in the crook of Hide’s shoulder, and tears slip and plunge into the collar of his shirt where it lies against his skin. There weren’t words to describe Hide’s scent from the view of a ghoul, the sweater held a hint of a mild soap but it took some willpower not to press his nose hard to the pulse he knew would be wracking warm under his chin, pressing in hard and taking in daylight. He’s laughing he can tell distantly; a broken sound that ends in a hiccup when Hide’s hand smacks reality back between his shoulderblades.
“Get dressed,” he said, still in that quiet voice that must be for his sake. “You must like your coffee black now, huh? Borrow some of my clothes and leave the eyepatch off this time.”
Kaneki nods in a daze.
“…Have you eaten?” Hide asks.
“Yes,” is the response. “I’ve…eaten.”
“Okay. Good, ‘cause I don’t think I could help you with that. Just the coffee then.”
Hide lifts Kaneki’s head with a palm to his forehead to catch his eyes, and Kaneki can only nod and waver under the heat before Hide pads off to the kitchen. He leaves the door open, and Kaneki can hear Hide’s mindless whistle and the clinking of ceramic.
Minutes later, Kaneki folds himself over the counter at Hide’s side and utters, “Why?”
It was his first real utterance since he’d shown up torn and ugly and drenched in the metallic ink of blood, and Hide makes no comment at the hoarse quality of his voice.
“Because we’re friends, dummy,” he answers easily, and Kaneki jumps when Hide’s fingertip pokes along the edge of his dark undereye. His face jolts from where he rested on his forearms, and Hide’s finger stalls uncertain an inch from his cheek. He hadn’t expected Hide to be so close when he looked up, though, and Hide didn’t seem to either. For a moment, they were simply staring; plain and admiring, brown and red and black bleeding into one another.
Hide was still looking at him when he nudged a mug against his hand, prompting his fingers to close around the handle. He finally put space between them and lifted his own to his lips. “Thanks,” Kaneki says at almost a whisper. “I think I…really missed this.”
His fingers twitched and he followed the length of them to the black of his fingernails, testing the muscles in each one; only hours ago they were working themselves between flesh, ripping tendons and organs alike, taking sickening delight at the smear of red on the white of his hands, his teeth.
Hide still watched him.
A smile, wide and knowing and genuine, had Kaneki reeling back as if stung. “Of course you did. Who wouldn’t?”
Kaneki sagged then, falling into a familiar dynamic, “Idiot,” he whispered, but his eyes were jagged and searching. “Jeez, Hide— you really…are an idiot.”
“Could be worse,” Hide shrugged, and Kaneki eyed the length of his neck as he swallowed, “I could be some dumb lit student almost getting himself eaten up by his hot ghoul girlfriend on the first date—“
“Hide!”
Hide flicks at a lock of white, catching Kaneki’s eye. “Loosen up a bit, Kaneki,” he says. “You’re safe here.”
There’s a pause, but it’s comfortable, “…Are you hurt at all?” Hide wants to know. “I tried to check when…you know, earlier, but I sorta just stuck you in the shower. I know ghouls generally heal with a meal, is that the same for you?”
“Yeah, I’m…fine. Most of the blood wasn’t mine.”
If that fazed him, it didn’t show. Kaneki jerked again when Hide’s palm nudged his shoulder to lead him to the living area.
“Where’d you leave your clothes?”
“Ah, in the bathroom…I should go bag those, or something—“
Hide made a face. “We’re getting rid of those, just so you know. Say goodbye to your cool black ghoul jumpsuit. Where the hell do you get something like that, anyway?”
Kaneki choked on a laugh caught far in the back of his throat, his eyes burning, a sting of affection sending ache through his chest. His fingers curled over the seams of the long ends of Hide’s shirt he’d borrowed, and god, he smelled like him, everything smelled like him here. Kaneki pressed his lips over the edge of the mug, drawing numbing heat in to burn his tongue.
“There’s…a guy.”
The edge of Hide’s mouth quirked up, “And the mask…?”
“Same guy.”
“A cool guy?”
Kaneki eyed him. “Just…a guy. Hide…—“
“Sorry! Sorry. I just want to know more about this stuff. It’s cool what the CCG doesn’t know, you know? It’s like…a different world entirely, and one my best friend’s a part of, so… But it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, man. Let’s talk about something else.”
Kaneki inhaled. He could talk of the force needed to snap a human long bone, the taste of a liver after one drink too many, the chew of muscle…these were things he knew Hide hadn’t been referring to, wouldn’t even fathom. Distantly, his head rang of numbers: 993, 986, 979…
And then Kaneki got himself lost in the timbre of Hide’s voice as he spoke of school, details of his part-time work fleeting by like they hardly existed until Kaneki had prompted, now dizzied by his perspective of the warring. Hide seemed strangely reluctant to speak of others in his life, and Kaneki refrained from asking; there was no evidence of another having been in his apartment, but the thought was bitter on his tongue, something akin to fear catching him still, and his fingers clutched at his sleeves a little tighter. But Hide’s voice helped to drown out the taste of death, the swirling pink of the drain, the crunch of bone on bone.
“Kaneki,” he said after a while.
“Hm?”
“I’ll take the couch, you get some rest. I’m losin’ you here.”
Kaneki’s fingers moved without thought, catching Hide’s wrist as inexplicable dread licked at his throat; his vision tunneled, and he managed a “sorry” as a moment of clarity had his eyes on Hide’s back as he lead him to the other room, cowlicks of blond nestled amongst dark roots and longer than he’d last seen. This, he could focus on, the boy limned by the lamplight who spoke only of daylight and home.
Hide grabbed the edge of the blanket beneath his comforter, releasing his wrist to do so; he eased the fabric out and bunched it up in his arms, intending to make his way back to the couch. But the thought of the empty expanse of the bed linens left Kaneki’s stomach weak and he stopped cold just inside the doorway. He could still see the blood-stained edges of the black fabric he’d come here in against the bathroom tiles, if he looked.
Hide must’ve read his thoughts clear as day on his face, because he would, he always did: “What are ya, a bunny?”
Kaneki was now brimming with longing he hadn’t expected.
“Ken,” Hide said when he didn’t respond, and Kaneki’s expression broke at the sound of it. “Hey.”
Kaneki raked his fingers through his hair, catching the now-dry strands between his fingers. Hide’s hand came up to hover over his shoulder before it dropped to his side, and Kaneki’s eyes widened at the sudden thought that maybe he’s afraid.
And he should be, as he’s fragile and human and would probably taste as beautiful as he was.
“Hey,” he said again, and he sounded almost defeated. “Talk to me here, Ken.”
Kaneki’s lips parted, “Stay?” he asked him. Kaneki’s eyes caught on the tan skin of his collarbone where the fabric of his sweater pooled, and he was distantly aware of the sting of fresh tears, of eyes brown and bright pouring into his, and his gasping inhales that had him clutching his chest like a lifeline. It was all so familiar, and god he’s missed this, and Hide’s hair was three inches too long for true familiarity, and he was stupid to think he was worthy of asking for anything else from this boy—
“Don’t look like that…Kaneki.”
Hide’s voice stalled on his name and Kaneki looked up suddenly to see him taking in a breath, his eyes now glittering with wet. Hide’s mouth turned on a wavering smile. With another sob from Kaneki, Hide’s fingers came up to grip at his jaw, the pads of his thumbs brushing damp at his cheeks. Hide wasn’t fazed by the black of his sclera, nor the ugly of his twisted expression, nor the snarl of a man lost in a sea of violence and gore--
Hide leaned in and kissed him then with dizzying resolve, and Kaneki’s hands balled into fists at his sides, his fingernails pressing half-moons against his palms and his lips begged to tear into the flesh against them, but they didn’t. And wouldn’t.
Kaneki’s feet pushed hard against the carpet until his back slumped up against the doorframe, and Hide disconnected them without a sound.
Oh.
Hide took a step back, slightly abashed, while Kaneki bit hard into the back of his hand to keep himself from marring him any further.
“Hide, you—“
“Ah, right, did that bother you, Kaneki?” he asked, grinning, but his eyes were soft and searching. “Guess I should’ve asked first.”
“Hide,” he urged, and if his voice broke a little he continued on regardless, terse, “you can’t just—I’m a ghoul, if I wanted to I could easily…--“
“Would you?” Hide asked.
“Well, no, but—“
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Hide.”
They both went quiet; Hide was now leaned up on the bottom edge of his bedframe, arms crossed, nonchalant and patient. Kaneki could only stare as his knees buckled and his back slid down a few inches before he caught himself.
“I ate someone today,” he said, the words clear despite Kaneki’s heartbeat running rampant, his thoughts suddenly unclear and littered with intrusive hauntings.
“I know that,” Hide said. “Did you kill them too?”
Kaneki looked aside, frustration evident in the way his hands combed over his face and into his hair, “No, I didn’t kill them, not this time…”
“Do you ever?”
“If I have to.”
“Thought so.”
Kaneki glared through the cracks in his fingers, expression so torn he might as well be still drenched in filth. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved—
“’I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.’ That’s what you’re thinking now, huh?”
Kaneki blinked, his hands falling to his sides.
Hide’s arms uncrossed and he laughed, a crooked sound, “A bit late for that, now. A CCG part-timer harboring and seducing the Centipede. There’s probably a special place in the Cochlea for someone like me. If I even make it that far. I’m already in this deep, guess I’ll just have to keep us both safe, huh?”
“What—“
“I told you. You’re safe here. So keep me safe too, alright?” He paused before adding, “For the record, if someone comes after you I’d probably want to eat them too. Maybe not like a ghoul, but that counts for something, right?”
Kaneki’s back crept down a couple more inches. “How do you make something like that sound like such a good thing?”
Hide grinned. “My specialty.”
“God,” Kaneki said, on the verge of something like nervous laughter, if that held the raw threat of newfound tears, “Seducing? Is that what you’re trying to do?”
Hide leans into his palm, smug. “Well, I’m not doing a great job of that right now.”
Kaneki breaks then, his knees truly buckling into nothing but deadweight when he crumbles to the floor, curled into himself and trembling, longing clawing its way to the surface in bubbles of sobbing laughs that left his chest warm and his cheeks even warmer.
“You need to stop that, “ Hide chided, coming in close. His brows knitted together in a way that left Kaneki aware of just how unstable he probably looked right now, laughing so hard he was crying or crying so hard he was laughing, the two so intertwined he couldn’t be sure which came first. “You’re a mess, you’re going to need another shower at this rate. Look at you, you’re getting my shirt all snotty.”
“And what, are you going to follow me in?”
The words slipped out unhinged and unfiltered, and his wrist fell from where it had rubbed at his eyes, “I didn’t mean that like—Sorry, that sounded so—“
“Is that what you want?”
Hide was staring at him, serious, both unoffended and wondering and Kaneki truly did not know what to say at all.
Up until now, Kaneki hadn’t thought in terms of want, to want was to lose, but to give, that was all he could do, he’d give and give until he’d mashed himself into some semblance of useful, then he’d die without a thought, knowing his death had at least done some good.
The full weight of Hide’s regard and his question and his lips on his was gnashing its way in and threatening that resolve—
“It’s beautiful.”
Hide was looking at him, or so it seemed, his eyes were on his left and Kaneki almost reached up to cover it out of habit. “What?” he said, thrown off balance.
“I told you it was kinda cool earlier. I didn’t want to freak you out. But it’s been flickering in and out of black for a while now.” Hide’s gaze fell back to his, “And it’s really nice.”
Hide had gotten close, now.
Kaneki’s eyes slide to Hide’s mouth and he blurts, “Kagune, too. They come out, sometimes, when I don’t even want them to.”
Hide’s full attention is on Kaneki’s mouth. “A rinkaku, huh?”
“Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Nah.”
When Hide kisses him it’s calm and patient, a perfect contrast to Kaneki’s lips pouring grief over his, pressing imploringly and wrenching them apart to tongue in the space between. Hide’s breath hitches, but it’s the only indication that he’s fazed at all when he lets his mouth fall open, and Kaneki’s pushing himself off the wall to crawl forward and kiss him like he’s drinking in light itself.
Hide meets each one halfway, his palm cradling Kaneki’s jaw and holding him tight, and he’s whispering and easing him into some semblance of sanity, and smiling as his lips coaxed feeling back into the inky crevices he’d come to know.
“God,” Kaneki breathes when Hide’s teeth slide sharp against his bottom lip, and Hide’s eyes flutter open, “God.”
Kaneki shivers; Hide swallows, “Yeah?”
Kaneki doesn’t say anything, instead running his tongue along his teeth, growing accustomed to the taste of the living rather than bittersweet morbidity.
Hide breaks the breathy silence, all mirth and wide grins, “That good, huh?”
Kaneki laughs, a broken sob from the barren deep of his throat and presses his lips hard to the pulse under Hide’s jaw, “Yeah,” he relents, “Yeah.”