Work Text:
Look my way, bright eyes
And tell me you love me.
Call my name, soft lips
And hold me too tightly.
Feel my pain, warm hands
And make it disappear.
Kenjirou pressed his hands against Yuuji’s chest, seating himself on his boyfriend’s lap, looking steadily into Yuuji’s eyes. Fire danced in Yuuji’s gaze and Kenjirou felt his heart rate increase. Hands danced down Kenjirou’s back, finally settling at his waist. Kenjirou adjusted his legs to wrap gently around Yuuji as he leaned forward to press a firm kiss to Yuuji’s lips.
The spiker hadn’t settled down yet, his eyes flitting across Kenjirou’s face, down his body, studying his smaller hands coming up to rest gently on his cheeks. Yuuji turned his head to kiss one of Kenjirou’s thumbs, making the setter grin.
Kenjirou held Yuuji’s face still for several long seconds, waiting for the focus of Yuuji’s darting eyes to fall onto him. He leaned back in and electricity sparked at the contact of their lips. He let his own calm peace transfer to Yuuji and he relaxed further into the back of the couch. Kenjirou shifted his hands, up into Yuuji’s hair, letting soft blond strands slip through his fingers. He ran a thumb over the fuzzy, buzzed lower half of Yuuji’s head, trailing up to the thicker section. As the kiss deepened, Kenjirou pressed his fingers against Yuuji’s scalp, tugging gently at his hair with the minute shifts in his hands’ position.
His right index finger glossed over something he wasn’t sure was even there. He touched over it, feeling it for sure, a raised line two centimeters long in Yuuji’s skin.
Kenjirou pulled slightly away from the kiss, “Yuuji...” a murmur against his boyfriend’s lips.
Yuuji looked down and away.
“You okay?”
Yuuji looked back up. “Yeah? I mean, I’m fine, are you fine?”
Kenjirou narrowed his eyes. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.”
“No, really, I’m okay as long as you’re not weirded out.”
Kenjirou ran his fingers over the line again. “This is a scar?”
Yuuji nodded slightly. “It was a long time ago. Kiss me again, Kenjirou.”
Kenjirou was happy to let the scar escape his memory for the rest of the quiet night while he and Yuuji laid together on the couch, enjoying this rare night alone together.
As was customary, Yuuji fell asleep first, Kenjirou wrapped in his arms, warm, safe, discontent.
“Yuuji,” Kenjirou said softly.
Tired eyes blinked open again. “Mm?”
“How long ago?”
“What?”
Kenjirou touched the back of his own head in the relative place where Yuuji’s scar was.
“Oh. Years, Kenjirou, I don’t know.”
Kenjirou settled against Yuuji, hoping to hear another story of Yuuji’s reckless childhood that had lead to a reckless adolescence that had led to the reckless almost-adult holding Kenjirou now. “What happened?” Kenjirou closed his eyes. Maybe he would fall asleep listening to Yuuji’s voice, quiet but ever animated in his ear.
“It was just an accident.”
Kenjirou’s eyes popped open again. His tone wasn’t right. The aversion wasn’t right. Yuuji was full of stories to tell, most of them embellished until they gleamed like gold. He didn’t avoid questions or give one-sentence answers. Kenjirou turned his head to meet his gaze, but Yuuji’s eyes were locked on the far wall. “Yuuji, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m tired.”
Kenjirou sat up, giving Yuuji his iciest glare. “Stop lying to me.”
Kenjirou hadn’t realized the nerve he’d touched until the tears started to fall, captured in the pillow as Yuuji rolled over to hide his face. Kenjirou’s mind whirled faster than the earth around the sun as he gently placed a hand on Yuuji’s back.
“I’m sorry,” Kenjirou said softly. “I shouldn’t have pushed. I can’t say I’m not worried about you though. Tell me you’re okay?”
Yuuji sniffed and looked back at Kenjirou, the tears gone from his eyes like they had never been there. “It’s in the past.”
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“I’d like to leave it in the past. I’d appreciate it if you could leave it alone.”
The seriousness in Yuuji’s tone unnerved Kenjirou. “But sometime?”
“Kenjirou,” Yuuji sighed.
“What, I thought you said you found my stubbornness cute.”
At least Yuuji’s smile at the joke wasn’t fake.
Kenjirou kissed Yuuji’s eyebrow. “Can we go up to my bedroom? The couch never works real well.”
Yuuji nodded tiredly sat up, letting Kenjirou grab his hands and lead him upstairs to the bedrooms. He flopped ungracefully on the mattress, smiling slightly to himself. The couch really wasn’t that comfortable in comparison.
Kenjirou climbed under the covers next to Yuuji, kissing him a few more times. “I love you, you know that, right?”
“Of course,” Yuuji mumbled, eyes getting heavy again, but mind racing. “And you know I feel the same.”
“Definitely. I just... Don’t want to make you feel unsafe, but at the same time I want you to be able to tell me things.”
Yuuji was quiet for a solid minute; Kenjirou thought he had fallen asleep.
“Kenjirou?”
“Yes, Yuuji?”
“It was only two years ago.”
“Okay.” Kenjirou knew such a short response would coax Yuuji into going further.
“But it was still just an accident, no matter what anyone else tells you.”
Kenjirou’s stomach turned. He had questions but suddenly he was so afraid of the answers. “Who might tell me differently?”
He couldn’t tell in the darkness, but Kenjirou thought Yuuji was maybe crying again. He reached out to take Yuuji’s hands in his own, rubbing his thumb across the smooth skin.
“My team. But we don’t talk about it.”
Kenjirou rolled over and pressed his back against Yuuji’s chest, placing the bottom hem of his shirt within Yuuji’s grasp, giving his restless hands something to do.
“We were all really young, I don’t think any of us really understood much of what was happening,” Yuuji started, tugging on Kenjirou’s shirt and slipping one hand underneath to rest on his stomach. “What we knew is that we loved volleyball and would do anything for it.”
Kenjirou pondered every scenario. Yuuji was a hard worker, but understood boundaries better than anyone Kenjirou had ever met. Though could that skill be product of one too many late nights? Were all his warnings to Kenjirou about good sleep and adequate stretching and moderation filled with experience. Instead of hypothesizing, Kenjirou nestled closer to just listen.
“Our coach was tough, we understood that and so did our senpai. We learned to obey the rules and never show signs of being tired. If he yelled at us to run laps, we didn’t complain.”
Kenjirou knew that feeling well. When Washijou gave them an order, no one argued, they just did it.
“Everyone saw his glares when I made jokes during practice. They all hid their smiles or he’d be mad at them too. I didn’t mind the anger or the yelling or the threats, I was the one dancing on the edge and letting everyone else have fun. It felt like rebellion, it felt exciting. But I always did what he told me. I wanted to have fun, but I also wanted to be good at volleyball and I respected him.”
The relationship reminded Kenjirou a bit of Tendou Satori, one of his former senpai. The middle blocker had loved Washijou with all his heart, but did he ever know how to press buttons.
“But...” Yuuji’s reminiscent tone faltered. “He didn’t see it like that. He didn’t see that I respected him, I don’t think. Maybe he did and just didn’t care. He was every inch my role model and what I wanted to become. I started working harder in school because I thought maybe someday I wanted to be like him, a teacher, a coach, showing kids how to own the court like he was teaching us to. And I wanted him to like me, I just... wanted to have fun too.”
The relatability started to fade. Kenjirou furrowed his eyebrows, staring into the darkness of the room while Yuuji hugged him from behind.
“I made one joke too many. He told me to stay after practice one day. I was expecting to be told to clean the gym or run a few extra laps. But I stood there, against the wall in his office and watched him work. He didn’t pay me any mind, just typed away at his computer while I waited. After an hour I made a bit of noise to get his attention. He didn’t even look up. After another half hour I asked him if there was something he wanted me to do. He told me that if I wasted his time during practice, he’d waste mine outside of practice. He let me go a little before 11.”
Kenjirou placed his hands over Yuuji’s, feeling his stomach sink lower as the story continued.
“It shook me a little, sure, but I admired him for it. I only thought that he was super cool for turning the tables on me like that. After all, it was true, I had been wasting a bit of time at practice and this was a good way to make me pay for that.”
“Yuuji, no, that’s excessive. A fair punishment would be an extra lap, nothing more.”
Yuuji brushed the comment off. “I wanted him to see that we could be great at volleyball and have some fun as well. I played around some more, but made sure no one else was involved. It was one thing to risk getting myself in trouble but I couldn’t do that to my friends. He asked me to stay late again. After everyone else had left, I went into his office, ready to spend another few hours in silence. I started to question if it was worth it, but I thought maybe someday I’d wear him down until he cracked and we could have some fun too. Instead of making me wait, he pulled my arm up behind my back and shoved me against the wall—”
Kenjirou’s heart skipped a beat as Yuuji faltered. “Did it hurt,” he said, more as a statement than a question.
“Y-yeah. I was lucky it was my left arm or I wouldn’t have been able to play. I couldn’t do overhand receives for a week. Spiking hurt a lot. One of my senpai told me to go to the nurse and she said it was a less severe version of a spiral fracture, that I’d be fine, but to just give it time to heal. She asked me how it had happened and I told her that a friend and I had just been fooling around. She seemed to understand and didn’t ask any more questions. I k-kept looking at coach the next day. I wanted to ask him questions but he didn’t look at me at all. But he asked me to stay after again.”
“No,” Kenjirou pressed his face against Yuuji’s, receiving a light kiss.
“He told me that it hurt him to see me not care about volleyball and that was why he repaid the favor.”
“Damn it.” Kenjirou clenched his teeth to keep an enraged rant from spilling out of his mouth. He needed to keep quiet if Yuuji was going to tell him everything.
“I... I thought— I thought he was incredible. I started staying after every night to clean and keep practicing while he was in his office. I wanted to show him much I really did care about volleyball. He had to see. One night I went to his office to ask him about a blocking trick someone had told me about. He grabbed my arm and shoved me outside his office door. It hurt and I gave up for the night. I’d be back the next night though, to show him that I was strong and that I really did love volleyball. My roommate asked me if I’d gotten into a fight in the halls. My arm was bruised really badly. I wore a long sleeve shirt the next few days so no one else would see.”
“Yuuji,” Kenjirou interrupted quietly. “Why didn’t you tell someone?”
“I didn’t want him to get in trouble. I never did. I still—”
“Yuuji what he did to you was wrong. Please tell me you see this.”
“No, he did what he had to. I was young and dumb and messed around too much. It’s a coach’s job to reign in unruly students.”
“What the fuck, Yuuji, that's not alright! You do realize this right? What the hell did he do to you!?” Kenjirou flipped over and grabbed Yuuji's head, probing his fingers over the scar.
Yuuji wrenched himself out of Kenjirou's grip. “Kenjirou, stop!”
He sounded hurt and Kenjirou immediately relented and moved away. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You can continue your story if you want.”
Yuuji was silent for a moment. “O-one of my friends told me he knew what was happening. He said he'd seen the bruises and small cuts I sometimes came back with.”
Kenjirou burrowed his head in Yuuji's chest, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.
“He said he was going to tell the principal about what he was doing.”
“Yuuji, please tell me you didn't do something idiotic to protect this pathetic excuse of a man,” Kenjirou said softly.
“I... I lied. I said that I had given myself the bruises and my friend was even more shocked. He took me to the school counselor and he gave me this whole speech about self-harm but I wasn't really listening. I kept staying after practice and I kept coming back to the room with new bruises and my roommate was definitely noticing and. I think a lot of people knew what was going on but I kept trying to defend coach. Until one night when my roommate stuck around and hid with a camera and taped coach hitting me... h-he, coach, he saw and got really really mad and I was scared but I ran in between them and coach grabbed me and my head hit the wall...” Yuuji was crying again.
Kenjirou stroked his back, listening to his choked breaths. “It's okay... shh...”
Yuuji hiccuped. “I had to stay away from volleyball for a while while my head healed. We didn't have a coach at all for a little bit and it was the end of the school year and we didn't even go to spring high. We didn't know what was going to happen to the club, but we came back as second years and met Anabara and he was amazing and I was excited again. I think everyone was a little scared to be around me since we all knew what had gone down after coach got arrested. But with Anabara around, it was a lot... warmer.”
“I'm glad that it was better,” Kenjirou mumbled, extracting his face from Yuuji's chest to look him in the eyes.
Yuuji nodded. “I don't know why this always happens in my head though. I always think of him positively even when I remember how much it hurt. And I don't know why.”
“Yuuji, I’m not a therapist or anything and I don't know how exactly to help you realize that what he did was wrong.”
“I know what he did was wrong. I know what happened. The facts are all sitting here in front of me, but in my head he's still a role model even though I know he shouldn't be. But it feels different now.”
“What do you mean different?”
“Talking to you. It feels so far away and it all seems so... dark. It feels like I'm watching it happen and I can see how wrong it was.”
Kenjirou thought he understood what Yuuji was getting at. “Your emotions were clouding your thoughts back then, but it's like stepping back now.”
“Yeah. I kept avoiding thinking about it, but now that you made me talk about it, it feels... more wrong. It hurts more.”
“So then you should thank me for reopening the wound, yeah?” Kenjirou smirked slightly.
Yuuji smiled back. “Thanks.”
“Can I touch it again?”
Yuuji nodded and Kenjirou reached one hand up to press against his head, feeling exactly how long, how thick the scar was.
“It doesn't hurt anymore, does it?”
“Only when I think about it.”
“Can I distract you from it?”
“Please,” Yuuji whispered.
Kenjirou cuddled yet closer and pressed his lips to Yuuji's and held the embrace for as long as he could.
Kenjirou pulled away for air and spoke softly. “I'm never going to let you get hurt ever again.”
Look my way, bright eyes
And tell me you love me.
Call my name, soft lips
And hold me too tightly.
Feel my pain, warm hands
And make it disappear.
See my soul, bright eyes
And accept me anyway.
Kiss my cheek, soft lips
And loan me your courage.
Hold my heart, warm hands
And never let it go.