Work Text:
Ryuunosuke hated the rain. In the slums, rain meant endless nights in the cold, trying to shelter Gin with his ability and the few thin clothed he managed to find. It meant danger. It meant death sometimes. After entering the Mafia, finally with a roof on their heads, the consequences of bad weather weren't so calamitous anymore; but still, thunderstorms made missions gruesome and wore down his sick body to the bones. He'd caught a fever easily, his coughing worsened, he'd always feel weak and feeble and there was nothing he hated more than being weak in a world built of cruelty.
Of course, to prove Akutagawa's bottomless misfortune, rain was the norm in Yokohama, and once again he was cursing the stupid clouds after a long day of work in the cold. In vain he tried to unlock the door in front of him with actual keys but his frozen fingers refused to move. However, instead of dismantling the annoying piece of wood with Rashoumon out of habit, he chose to knock. The owner of that tiny apartment would not forgive him if he destroyed the entrance again.
"Ryuu, dinner is almost cold! What have you been doing this late?"
Atsushi stood stock-still when the golden light of the porch revealed Akutagawa's shaking figure. He was soaking wet, with a lock of raven hair flattened on his forehead. He was about to snap at the weretiger but he ended but with his own pressed to his mouth, body struck by a coughing fit. He grabbed the door for support, lungs burning. He really, really hated the rain.
Atsushi was by his side before Akutagawa saw him moving. An arm wrapped itself around his rib cage, uncaring of his wet clothes. Atsushi stared at the visible goosebumps on his pale throat, right under his phantom cut scar; the skin there was so thin it exposed Akutagawa's bluish under-veins.
"Why on earth can't you create un umbrella? Or bring one like normal people."
"Jinko, shut up." Akutagawa growled when his lungs allowed it. "It would slow me down and..."
"And an umbrella is only needed by the weak and blah blah blah, yeah, I know." The weretiger interrupted him and rolled his eyes. "You don't have a single crumble of self-preservation instinct in your body."
"You brag about that as if you have any more than me. And I wasn't going to say that, by the way." He shook his head in a pathetic attempt to dry his hair like a grumpy wet cat. Atsushi chuckled and stopped the bickering, leading him inside, carrying half of Akutagawa's weight on one solid arm around his torso, under his coat. It was warm enough to be felt through the clothing.
Two years before, Ryuunosuke would have sliced the limb right on the spot. He wouldn't have accepted it even if it meant dying of hypothermia in some dark street; ending his pathetic life was a better option than receiving help, especially from the weretiger, and his death would have been deserved anyway if he couldn't face a damn storm.
This day, he quietly leaned against the stable arm and closed his eyes. Maybe a heartless cur can still learn something different from violence. Maybe it can find a warm spot to rest.
"You need a bath," Atsushi whispered and pressed his fingers over Akutagawa's ones, still red form the cold. "And I'm quite sure you have some sorts of circulation issues. It's not normal for human hands to drop to this temperature."
He answered with a disgruntled noise.
"Something tells me your throat would like some tea, am I wrong?"
Ryuunosuke stared at him with a frown. "The one with dried figs?"
"Yeah, let's get you some fig tea" The weretiger was smiling all round and soft and his eyes were glowing just right, more gold than purple, as they always did when he was in a good mood.
Ryuunosuke noticed how the gold was a little brighter when it was just the two of them in that tiny apartment, and he couldn't help it but feel a hint of pride.
Destruction is the only command the vengeful beast ever understood and its only way of survival. It grew up in dirty alleys and only existed for and thanks to violence. It only felt hate and that's what moved it forward. That's why it's still alive.
True strength is the one it takes to face oneself.
He allowed the pride to linger in his chest, sighed, and let his soaked coat slide down his shoulders and arms. Atsushi caught it immediately. When they reached the bathroom he got surrounded by a delicate lavender scent, thanks to the small air diffuser bought by the weretiger a few weeks before.
The bathtub was already full to the brim and steam was clinging to the mirror and to his own dump skin. He turned towards Atsushi and frowned at him again. "You didn't need to do all this stuff."
Atsushi was so overly responsive to the desires of people around him and Akutagawa knew that such awareness and such an unearthly need to please could only come from a bad place. Atsushi looked for ways to be useful in the same manner Akutagawa looked for invisible enemies in empty spaces.
"I know I didn't have to," a moment of silence. "I just wanted to."
Ryuunosuke nodded silently. He still had to understand the thin line between Atsushi's self-sacrificial tendencies and his natural selflessness, but this time it seemed fine.
He brought the weretiger's hand up to his mouth and placed a butterfly kiss on the palm.
Atsushi smiled again and headed out of the bathroom. "Get in there, I'll boil the tea."
Akutagawa inhaled. He still felt uneasiness creeping into his guts with the thought of removing his armour of clothes, a crippling fear worsened by his body's weakness. He was going to be completely unable to defend himself in case of danger.
Rain was still hitting the glass of the window and he was staring at it when he heard Atsushi's voice from the other room. "Tea's almost ready! I'll be there soon."
I'm here and I'll watch your back. You can let your guard down, you're safe.
That timing was a subtle strategy his partner made perfect over time, born from long nights spent together in cheap hotel rooms after jointed missions. At first, the weretiger was annoyed with how long Akutagawa would keep the bathroom occupied just to come out the same as before. Now the voice was warm and cozy as the water in front of him.
He exhaled and stress fell off his shoulders; he didn't even remember holding his breath. He undressed quickly and got in the tube still shivering. The injuries from the mission weren't severe, just a big red bruise on his ribcage and a few cuts on his back.
Fortunately, Atsushi was careful enough not to make the water too hot, but it still felt like fire over his naked limbs. His skin was naturally sensitive to everything since it was always wrapped up in at least two layers of clothing.
As expected, Atsushi entered the room with a cup in his hand and sat on the small stool next to the tube. He was wearing the soft ochre pyjamas someone from the Agency gave him for New Year's Eve. The color perfectly enhanced the gold in his eyes. The first time Akutagawa saw it, he clearly stated his contempt for such a mundane and useless possession and the tiger replied with something sharp. One year later, Ryuunosuke turned around in the bath, let his head fall on Atsushi's knee and closed his eyes when the fabric touched his cheek.
Warm fingers carded through raven locks in slow movements and he felt like he was breathing for the first time since he left the flat in the morning, mind hazy in the best of ways, as if filled with the warm steam of the bath.
The tiger's claws were powerful enough to tear through abilities and time itself like a godlike being, and he knew how destructive they could be from personal experience. A fair amount of the silver scars on his body were from those claws and when Atsushi thought about them for too long he looked absolutely miserable.
Now, Akutagawa was defenceless and weak, at the mercy of a divine tiger, and still the sharp nails scratching his scalp were nothing but gentle.
Atsushi handed him the white cup. "I'll wash your hair, but take a sip first."
He raised his head just enough to place his lips on the rim and drank. He tasted exactly four sugar cubes; perfect. The silence around them was comfortable and Atsushi's free hand kept combing his hair with smooth motions until the cup was empty and then put aside.
Akutagawa found himself on the verge of falling asleep on the soft fleece tissue, all his senses overflowing with warm and gold, when Atsushi manhandled him back against the tube and took a handful of water to his head. His eyes remained closed, the beast inside him calm and satisfied.
Atsushi worked cheap sweet-scented shampoo through his hair, slowly washing dried blood of the enemies away. There was no need to ask if his opponents were still alive.
He had a new purpose.
With the way his head was tilted backwards he knew the weretiger had full access to his bare throat, the scar from the day that changed everything on display. Technically, before being reborn he crawled all the way up from hell as a vampire, but to him, the day of his death was also the one he became a knight.
You know the reason yourself, don't you?
Atsushi caressed the pale scar while rinsing his hair. Akutagawa shivered again from the raw vulnerability of offering his naked throat to celestial claws but he didn’t flinch. He knew that by opening his eyes he would find Atsushi’s matching one.
Soft hands kept rubbing his scalp for several more minutes while Ryuunosuke washed his aching and heavy body in silence. When their bizarre arrangement started his subordinates were dumbfounded by the new sweet scent of their rabid beast. He overheard them chatting but nobody ever approached the subject out of fear. When he talked about it with Gin, she threatened to slice the tiger open with her knife. Then she smiled earnestly.
Atsushi brushed his bangs to the side and looked at him with golden devotion. “Hello there. Feeling better?”
An approving noise came out of him. Atsushi lowered himself to press his lips on his wet forehead. Everything around them was still misty.
The weretiger stood up. “I’m heating up our food. Come when you’re ready.”
_______
On the kitchen’s table there was a lily bulb in yellow vase. Atsushi brought it home a few weeks before and told him it was for him to water and grow. He promised to take care of it. Not slaughtering his enemies wasn’t enough anymore; he needed to make something live.
“Why a lily?”
“I think it fits us.”
And he was right. Therefore, Akutagawa meticulously checked if the soil was humid enough every evening. If everything went right, it was expected to bloom in early summer.
The waiting made him tremble with want and fear.
Next to the vase Atsushi had placed two bowls of red bean soup. While eating, the weretiger kept chatting about his day, the agency’s shenanigans and complaints from tired clients. His silver hair was glowing with the moonlight and the world outside was peacefully sleeping, regenerating itself through the rain.
Akutagawa did the dishes dressed in black lines pyjamas and collapsed on the couch with a sigh. Atsushi was immediately curled up in a ball against his side like an overgrown cat and a blanket covered them both. He ran his fingers through silver hair until Atsushi’s breath evened out.
Ryuunosuke knew the warm feeling blooming like a lily in his ribcage could only exist inside a human being.