[ For as much as Suguru is a prisoner, he finds his limbo-like afterlife has taken a turn for the heavenly. He sees Yuji with some regularity now, and on the days that they're apart, they're in contact through texting or calls. Yuji's presence has become the bright point of sunshine in the dark gloom of Suguru's uneventful days. It feels more like a reward than penance, and that still doesn’t seem quite right to Suguru. Suguru doesn't know what to make of Satoru's decision to keep bringing the boy back, but he knows it's a bad one. Suguru hasn't harmed Yuji (technically?), but he's certainly hurt him. He curbs his foulest, cruelest instincts, simply unable to terrorize Yuji with his full chest; not only is Yuji the love of Suguru's life, he's also a young sorcerer exploited at the hands of the very people Suguru loathes. It's almost an act of rebellion in itself to harbor Yuji and grant him some twisted form of happiness while he's around.
Thus, Suguru has stopped trying to shove Yuji away so violently. He doesn't hide the true ugliness of the man that he's become, but he doesn't actively try to convince Yuji that he's better off treating Suguru as dead as the rest of the world. He's affectionate with Yuji, much like he used to be back in school, actively cuddling Yuji or seeking out the warmth of his smaller body. (Suguru almost uses him like a portable heating pad; the radiating heat feels good on his aching muscles for a shocking level of pain relief.)
Tonight, he notices Yuji's absence when he reaches for the boy on his respective side of the bed, arm outstretched to instinctively draw Yuji into him and finding only empty space. Eyes slowly creaking open, Suguru blinks at the yawning darkness of the bedroom. At first, he waits. He assumes maybe Yuji is in the bathroom or grabbing a midnight snack, but as time ticks by without any sign of his lover, Suguru's curiosity gets the better of him. Hair tumbling messily into his face, mussed with sleep, Suguru draws himself out of bed and wanders into the hall, only to follow the dim light spilling out of the bathroom.
The smell hits Suguru first. Coppery, sharp, bitter on his tongue in a way a curse could never be – but rather than burst inside, panicked, he carefully slides the door open, painfully quiet about entering. The splashes of scarlet are so obvious, the patina on Yuji's skin painting over pale flesh, and Suguru rapidly assesses—
Yes, Yuji is still breathing. No, Suguru doesn't see anything... actively open? He realizes that Yuji must have already used reverse cursed technique to heal whatever wounds were present, so... what is this? How did they get from falling asleep in Suguru's bed to a teenage boy painted bloody in the bathroom?
Deathly silent until now, Suguru finally interrupts the quiet that only comes in the middle of the night. ]
[ Yuji would normally be able to tell that Suguru is coming, from the gentle roll of his cursed energy and his own natural senses picking up on the soft footsteps outside the bathroom, but he's completely blind to it, lost in the depth of his own feeling and the blunt edge of his pain. It has all his attention, his focus on that and nothing else, so when the door opens, and he hears the sound of the other man's voice, he jumps a little, the knife slipping from his bloody fingers.
Oh, fuck.
It's not that he thinks that Suguru is going to judge him or anything like that (given Suguru's own nature, his own history, this is surely the least of the crimes that Yuji could be committing). It still makes him deeply uncomfortable, though, and he tries to tuck his arm away, to hide it to one side, as if he can somehow make it so that Suguru hasn't seen what's going on, that he can somehow pretend as if he wasn't just drawing his own blood in a desperate attempt to find some kind of peace and quiet in the thunderstorm that is his brain.
Slowly, he blinks up at him, eyes wide. Red is your colour. He doesn't sound mad, at least, even with the horrible, copper mess that Yuji has made of his fancy, delicate bathroom (or, ah, Gojo-sensei's bathroom, he thinks).
Wincing, he pushes himself up. ]
... I was going to clean it.
[ He has no idea what else to say, what other words should come to mind.
Is he meant to try and explain himself? Or does Suguru naturally understand, as he always seems to, one hand reaching into Yuji's mind and tearing him open...? ]
[ Suguru gives a small wave of his hand, the sort of gesture that says "don't get up." No need for Yuji to rush to cover his tracks and certainly no need for him to hide the gory evidence from a man like Suguru. He's used to blood. His own and others'. So why be alarmed?
Coming to the tub, Suguru sets his hand on the edge and lowers to the ground, getting comfortable on his knees. ]
Why don't you tell me about it instead?
[ Resting his elbow on the tub rim, he props up his temple and watches Yuji. ]
[ The situation is a little strange, but so are most things when it comes to him and Suguru - the whole notion of the two of them together is something that probably shouldn't be happening, but continues to exist. Gojo-sensei, if he was a more responsible adult, would definitely be intervening and making it so that Yuji never sees Suguru again.
But he's here, bleeding in his bath, with the man he loves kneeling beside him and watching him, more curious than disturbed or upset. He should've guessed. ]
Tell you...?
[ Blinking, Yuji rubs his fingers into the just-there marks on his arm, not sure of how to vocalise it, blinking once, then twice, and then breathing out.
[ It’s probably unfair to put Yuji on the spot like this, to tell him to explain such a clear cry of deep, agonizing pain. But now, as an adult, Suguru recognizes something familiar under it all. Heavy and consuming and dark, an abyss that threatens to swallow a man – or a boy – whole. Suguru didn’t turn to this sort of outward expression of his own pain as a teenager, but the nights he spent working out until his body failed him or the pursuit of anything to numb the bone-set dread made coping a familiar beast. Maybe if he’d had any knack for RCT as a teen, he’d have experimented with this, too.
Something, anything would have been a relief back then. ]
The pain of the knife? [ Despite asking such personal and awkward questions about a disturbing thing, Suguru reaches out to brush his fingers through Yuji’s hair, reassuring. Gentle, patient, present. ]
[ The gentle touch to his head soothes some of Yuji's worries, and he tilts into it gently. He doesn't reach out for Suguru, not right now when his hand is caked with blood, sticky with it, but he sinks into the touch as if it's his anchor, the only lifeline he has. It's difficult to speak and say things, his mouth feeling as if it's filled with cotton, but... He doesn't want to lie.
He doesn't like lying to Suguru, because he doesn't want Suguru to lie to him.
Flexing his fingers, ignoring the sharp sting of pain, he nods his head. ]
The... Sensation. The hurt? It's distracting.
[ Gets him out of his thoughts. ]
I don't need it all the time, but sometimes it's too much.
[ Suguru nods along as Yuji explains, continuing to card his fingers through pink hair; it seems to soothe the teenager, and that’s the least Suguru can offer right now.
After a few prolonged moments of thought and gentle touch, Suguru speaks again. ]
Do you need to do it to yourself or do you think someone else could wield the knife for you?
[ It’s a hard balance to strike: relief without causing damage. Suguru can understand these impulses well, and he doesn’t want to shame Yuji for it, but maybe they can curb some the way the energy is directed. Maybe if he did the cutting and let Yuji handle the healing…? And then Suguru can provide relief in the moment and comfort in the aftermath – rather than forcing Yuji to hide away in the dark and desperately claw for something to make it all hurt less.
Maybe if they recontextualize it. Maybe if it’s something they do together. Maybe… ]
[ It is soothing, but Yuji isn’t sure if he deserves it.
If anyone else had found him like this he would’ve been in so much trouble. If it had been Gojo-sensei or Fushiguro he’d have been torn a new one as they tried to heal him and take care of him… It’s not to say they wouldn’t be understanding, or recognise his hurts and aches, but they wouldn’t get it. No one can, not when Yuji is the only one who remembers any of it.
Suguru looks at him and Yuji thinks that he does recognise the grief, at least a little bit. Maybe he does understand, on some intimate level Yuji hasn’t fully realised yet.
Breathing out, he glances away. ]
I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.
[ He looks back up at his lover, gaze determined. ]
And no one should have to. Not for something like this.
[ The admonishment is lighthearted, a tiny crook at the corner of Suguru’s lips – not quite humor and not mocking, but setting the tone, letting Yuji know he isn’t in trouble. ]
Some dangerous men enjoy causing pain – relish it, even. And you picked a dangerous man to love, Yuji.
[ Maybe Yuji will find relief in the pain, but that doesn’t mean Suguru won’t get off on it. It’s almost productive to channel his inherent sadistic urges into something that lets Yuji feel such a lightening of his burdens, as darkly ironic as it may be. ]
[ Yuji’s never thought about it like all of this before, with the understanding of pain mixing with pleasure. He likes it when Suguru bites him, digs nails into him, enjoys the press of his cock inside him sometimes when it’s done a little too early, but not like this. It feels little… Wrong.
But isn’t their entire relationship wrong to most people? People who don’t understand that they met when they were teenagers and fell in love that way?
Eyes stuck on Suguru’s face, he swallows a little. ]
[ Yuji should definitely be alarmed by the idea of 'hurting him' being attractive, but right now all he can think about is the thrum of his pulse in his veins and the way he stares at Suguru, filled with some kind of desperation he can't name.
It's not quite want, or desire, but a sense of security. If he wants to hurt, this man will hurt him. Isn't that enough?
Leaning into the touch, closing his eyes, Yuji nods, hand shaking a little. He feels filthy, somehow, but secure. ]
I... We can try it. Maybe not right now, but... Next time?
[ Turning his head, Yuji chases Suguru as he moves back, pressing their mouths together in a quick, gentle kiss, biting at his mouth before he nods.
He needs to clean up. The shame is still there, a twisting, uncomfortable weight inside of him, but he can't ignore it. He can't shove it away. It exists because he lets it. ]
[ Nope, not just leaving Yuji to his own devices right now.
Suguru gets to his feet, pushing off his light sweats and kicking them out of the way before he goes over to the showerheads to start the water. ]
Leave the knife by the sink, would you? [ Because he'll either figure out where it was supposed to go and where it came from or he'll just keep it in the kitchen for now. ]
[ Yuji swallows as he pushes himself up, trying not to slip on the blood - his own blood - colouring the inside of Gojo-sensei's fancy bathtub. He's going to have to really clean that up later...
At least his technique has healed his cuts, and he reaches to grab the knife and place it aside, hesitating. If Suguru takes it from him, and he can't have it as a safety net any more...
Shaking his head, he tugs off his shirt, kicking off his sweatpants, looking small and awkward as he stands and waits for the shower. ]
[ Realistically, Suguru knows that Yuji could probably find another knife or a razor blade, if he felt that determined. But he also wants to emphasize the idea that Yuji isn't going to sneak off to do this to himself anymore, that he'll come to Suguru when he needs something like this to quiet the pain in his heart. So he's pleased when Yuji leaves the knife aside, though he doesn't comment.
Fingers test the water temperature, and then Suguru reaches his hand out to Yuji, inviting him close to step into the shower spray. ]
Come here.
[ Come to be comforted, come to be loved. The solution isn't any less fucked than the entirety of their situation, but at least Yuji isn't alone. ]
[ Yuji trusts a great number of people - Gojo-sensei, Fushiguro, Kugisaki, even some of his senpai - but there's no one he trusts like Suguru. This man is the one that he loves most, the one that has seen his darkness and accepts him anyway, both of them having that same understanding with one another.
It doesn't matter what awful things that Yuji does. Suguru will take him into his arm and cherish him all the same.
Breathing out, he steps over and into the shower, immediately pressing his body into Suguru's, pressing his face into his chest. That way, he doesn't have to watch the scarlet blood drain away, as if his sins were that easily removed. ]
[ Arm winding immediately around Yuji, Suguru rests his chin on top of the boy's head under the spray of water, unbothered by the swirls of red circling the drain. ]
I'm here. [ Here for Yuji and going nowhere, as long as Gojo allows it. Maybe Gojo would change his mind about bringing Yuji here if he knew about this little bargain, but Suguru considers details private.
[ Yuji sinks into his body immediately, both his arms curling around Suguru's narrow waist. ]
... Thank you.
[ He nuzzles into the older man's chest, breathing out a soft sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. It's warm here, and not just because of the water... It's the safety of it. ]
[ Suguru hums with acknowledgement, though it takes him a few seconds longer of holding Yuji before he reaches out to shut off the water. He decides not to let go of the teenager, but that means shuffling him away from the shower and towards the stack of clean towels nearby. The tub can be a problem for tomorrow; right now, Suguru cares more about grabbing the fluffy, dry towels to drape one over Yuji's shoulders. (Harder to do one-handed, but he pulls it off.) ]
Don't worry about cleaning anything tonight. We'll deal with it later, hm?
[ The towel wraps around him, and Yuji doesn't bother attempting to start drying himself. Instead, he moves closer, sinking into Suguru's body again, not wanting to let go.
His technique has already done the job of healing any lingering marks and removing the threat of scars, so he has no hesitation when it comes to squeezing his arms around his lover, kissing the damp skin of his chest.
[ Suguru winds his one arm around Yuji, nuzzling into his hair again as he lets the boy cling, not minding that he hasn't wrapped himself up in the other towel yet. ]
It's not like Satoru is going to see it, and I think we'd both rather be in bed right now.
[ Who cares about a little dried blood in the tub? Not Suguru. ]
[ Yuji leans up into him, kissing at Suguru’s jaw, yearning for him. Wanting him. He’s not sure how to vocalise it, his hands shaking a little as he grabs at his lover. ]
Take me to bed. Look after me, Suguru. Just for tonight, please.
[ That’s not what Yuji usually asks for, it’s not who they are right now, but… He wants it. ]
[ It's not often Suguru is left trying to decipher Yuji these days, but he's not sure what to make of the tremble in Yuji's touch, the neediness that feels as vulnerable and naked as Yuji's bare skin. He feels... fragile. Breakable. ]
Look after you, hmm?
[ That's what Yuji deserves, something in the back of Suguru's mind thinks. Yuji deserves to be looked after, to be taken care of, to be loved and adored and treated kindly.
He's apparently not such a monster that he can cast aside Yuji's soft plea right off the bat.
Unwrapping his arm, Suguru reaches up and tucks his fingers under Yuji's chin, tilting his face to Suguru's. ]
I think I can remember how to do that. [ And he leans in, brushing a far gentler kiss over Yuji's lips. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
when u should be packing or sleeping but instead it’s tags
Thus, Suguru has stopped trying to shove Yuji away so violently. He doesn't hide the true ugliness of the man that he's become, but he doesn't actively try to convince Yuji that he's better off treating Suguru as dead as the rest of the world. He's affectionate with Yuji, much like he used to be back in school, actively cuddling Yuji or seeking out the warmth of his smaller body. (Suguru almost uses him like a portable heating pad; the radiating heat feels good on his aching muscles for a shocking level of pain relief.)
Tonight, he notices Yuji's absence when he reaches for the boy on his respective side of the bed, arm outstretched to instinctively draw Yuji into him and finding only empty space. Eyes slowly creaking open, Suguru blinks at the yawning darkness of the bedroom. At first, he waits. He assumes maybe Yuji is in the bathroom or grabbing a midnight snack, but as time ticks by without any sign of his lover, Suguru's curiosity gets the better of him. Hair tumbling messily into his face, mussed with sleep, Suguru draws himself out of bed and wanders into the hall, only to follow the dim light spilling out of the bathroom.
The smell hits Suguru first. Coppery, sharp, bitter on his tongue in a way a curse could never be – but rather than burst inside, panicked, he carefully slides the door open, painfully quiet about entering. The splashes of scarlet are so obvious, the patina on Yuji's skin painting over pale flesh, and Suguru rapidly assesses—
Yes, Yuji is still breathing. No, Suguru doesn't see anything... actively open? He realizes that Yuji must have already used reverse cursed technique to heal whatever wounds were present, so... what is this? How did they get from falling asleep in Suguru's bed to a teenage boy painted bloody in the bathroom?
Deathly silent until now, Suguru finally interrupts the quiet that only comes in the middle of the night. ]
I suppose red is your color, isn't it?
a relatable moment
Oh, fuck.
It's not that he thinks that Suguru is going to judge him or anything like that (given Suguru's own nature, his own history, this is surely the least of the crimes that Yuji could be committing). It still makes him deeply uncomfortable, though, and he tries to tuck his arm away, to hide it to one side, as if he can somehow make it so that Suguru hasn't seen what's going on, that he can somehow pretend as if he wasn't just drawing his own blood in a desperate attempt to find some kind of peace and quiet in the thunderstorm that is his brain.
Slowly, he blinks up at him, eyes wide. Red is your colour. He doesn't sound mad, at least, even with the horrible, copper mess that Yuji has made of his fancy, delicate bathroom (or, ah, Gojo-sensei's bathroom, he thinks).
Wincing, he pushes himself up. ]
... I was going to clean it.
[ He has no idea what else to say, what other words should come to mind.
Is he meant to try and explain himself? Or does Suguru naturally understand, as he always seems to, one hand reaching into Yuji's mind and tearing him open...? ]
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Coming to the tub, Suguru sets his hand on the edge and lowers to the ground, getting comfortable on his knees. ]
Why don't you tell me about it instead?
[ Resting his elbow on the tub rim, he props up his temple and watches Yuji. ]
What does it do for you?
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But he's here, bleeding in his bath, with the man he loves kneeling beside him and watching him, more curious than disturbed or upset. He should've guessed. ]
Tell you...?
[ Blinking, Yuji rubs his fingers into the just-there marks on his arm, not sure of how to vocalise it, blinking once, then twice, and then breathing out.
He can't exactly run away. ]
It's... My heart hurts. This makes it easier?
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Something, anything would have been a relief back then. ]
The pain of the knife? [ Despite asking such personal and awkward questions about a disturbing thing, Suguru reaches out to brush his fingers through Yuji’s hair, reassuring. Gentle, patient, present. ]
Is the goal the blood or the sensation?
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He doesn't like lying to Suguru, because he doesn't want Suguru to lie to him.
Flexing his fingers, ignoring the sharp sting of pain, he nods his head. ]
The... Sensation. The hurt? It's distracting.
[ Gets him out of his thoughts. ]
I don't need it all the time, but sometimes it's too much.
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After a few prolonged moments of thought and gentle touch, Suguru speaks again. ]
Do you need to do it to yourself or do you think someone else could wield the knife for you?
[ It’s a hard balance to strike: relief without causing damage. Suguru can understand these impulses well, and he doesn’t want to shame Yuji for it, but maybe they can curb some the way the energy is directed. Maybe if he did the cutting and let Yuji handle the healing…? And then Suguru can provide relief in the moment and comfort in the aftermath – rather than forcing Yuji to hide away in the dark and desperately claw for something to make it all hurt less.
Maybe if they recontextualize it. Maybe if it’s something they do together. Maybe… ]
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If anyone else had found him like this he would’ve been in so much trouble. If it had been Gojo-sensei or Fushiguro he’d have been torn a new one as they tried to heal him and take care of him… It’s not to say they wouldn’t be understanding, or recognise his hurts and aches, but they wouldn’t get it. No one can, not when Yuji is the only one who remembers any of it.
Suguru looks at him and Yuji thinks that he does recognise the grief, at least a little bit. Maybe he does understand, on some intimate level Yuji hasn’t fully realised yet.
Breathing out, he glances away. ]
I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.
[ He looks back up at his lover, gaze determined. ]
And no one should have to. Not for something like this.
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[ The admonishment is lighthearted, a tiny crook at the corner of Suguru’s lips – not quite humor and not mocking, but setting the tone, letting Yuji know he isn’t in trouble. ]
Some dangerous men enjoy causing pain – relish it, even. And you picked a dangerous man to love, Yuji.
[ Maybe Yuji will find relief in the pain, but that doesn’t mean Suguru won’t get off on it. It’s almost productive to channel his inherent sadistic urges into something that lets Yuji feel such a lightening of his burdens, as darkly ironic as it may be. ]
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[ Yuji’s never thought about it like all of this before, with the understanding of pain mixing with pleasure. He likes it when Suguru bites him, digs nails into him, enjoys the press of his cock inside him sometimes when it’s done a little too early, but not like this. It feels little… Wrong.
But isn’t their entire relationship wrong to most people? People who don’t understand that they met when they were teenagers and fell in love that way?
Eyes stuck on Suguru’s face, he swallows a little. ]
You’d… Enjoy it? Hurting me like this?
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I’d enjoy it quite a lot. I find blood and seeing it on skin attractive – and I like hurting you far more than just appreciating the look of blood.
Why not combine them?
[ His hand travels down, cradling Yuji’s cheek with a kind touch that stands in stark juxtaposition to what he’s offering. ]
Come to me if you need to hurt, even like this. I’ll give you everything you could ever want.
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It's not quite want, or desire, but a sense of security. If he wants to hurt, this man will hurt him. Isn't that enough?
Leaning into the touch, closing his eyes, Yuji nods, hand shaking a little. He feels filthy, somehow, but secure. ]
I... We can try it. Maybe not right now, but... Next time?
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No, not tonight. [ Shifting up on his knees, he leans over to press a kiss to Yuji's forehead. ]
Why don't we get you cleaned up for now and go back to bed?
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He needs to clean up. The shame is still there, a twisting, uncomfortable weight inside of him, but he can't ignore it. He can't shove it away. It exists because he lets it. ]
I can just shower, if you want to go back to bed.
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[ Nope, not just leaving Yuji to his own devices right now.
Suguru gets to his feet, pushing off his light sweats and kicking them out of the way before he goes over to the showerheads to start the water. ]
Leave the knife by the sink, would you? [ Because he'll either figure out where it was supposed to go and where it came from or he'll just keep it in the kitchen for now. ]
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[ Yuji swallows as he pushes himself up, trying not to slip on the blood - his own blood - colouring the inside of Gojo-sensei's fancy bathtub. He's going to have to really clean that up later...
At least his technique has healed his cuts, and he reaches to grab the knife and place it aside, hesitating. If Suguru takes it from him, and he can't have it as a safety net any more...
Shaking his head, he tugs off his shirt, kicking off his sweatpants, looking small and awkward as he stands and waits for the shower. ]
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Fingers test the water temperature, and then Suguru reaches his hand out to Yuji, inviting him close to step into the shower spray. ]
Come here.
[ Come to be comforted, come to be loved. The solution isn't any less fucked than the entirety of their situation, but at least Yuji isn't alone. ]
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It doesn't matter what awful things that Yuji does. Suguru will take him into his arm and cherish him all the same.
Breathing out, he steps over and into the shower, immediately pressing his body into Suguru's, pressing his face into his chest. That way, he doesn't have to watch the scarlet blood drain away, as if his sins were that easily removed. ]
Suguru...
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I'm here. [ Here for Yuji and going nowhere, as long as Gojo allows it. Maybe Gojo would change his mind about bringing Yuji here if he knew about this little bargain, but Suguru considers details private.
He and Yuji can keep their secrets together. ]
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... Thank you.
[ He nuzzles into the older man's chest, breathing out a soft sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. It's warm here, and not just because of the water... It's the safety of it. ]
We don't need to wash my hair or anything, so...
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[ Suguru hums with acknowledgement, though it takes him a few seconds longer of holding Yuji before he reaches out to shut off the water. He decides not to let go of the teenager, but that means shuffling him away from the shower and towards the stack of clean towels nearby. The tub can be a problem for tomorrow; right now, Suguru cares more about grabbing the fluffy, dry towels to drape one over Yuji's shoulders. (Harder to do one-handed, but he pulls it off.) ]
Don't worry about cleaning anything tonight. We'll deal with it later, hm?
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His technique has already done the job of healing any lingering marks and removing the threat of scars, so he has no hesitation when it comes to squeezing his arms around his lover, kissing the damp skin of his chest.
Yuji loves him. So much. ]
If you're sure... I don't mind...
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[ Suguru winds his one arm around Yuji, nuzzling into his hair again as he lets the boy cling, not minding that he hasn't wrapped himself up in the other towel yet. ]
It's not like Satoru is going to see it, and I think we'd both rather be in bed right now.
[ Who cares about a little dried blood in the tub? Not Suguru. ]
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[ Yuji leans up into him, kissing at Suguru’s jaw, yearning for him. Wanting him. He’s not sure how to vocalise it, his hands shaking a little as he grabs at his lover. ]
Take me to bed. Look after me, Suguru. Just for tonight, please.
[ That’s not what Yuji usually asks for, it’s not who they are right now, but… He wants it. ]
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Look after you, hmm?
[ That's what Yuji deserves, something in the back of Suguru's mind thinks. Yuji deserves to be looked after, to be taken care of, to be loved and adored and treated kindly.
He's apparently not such a monster that he can cast aside Yuji's soft plea right off the bat.
Unwrapping his arm, Suguru reaches up and tucks his fingers under Yuji's chin, tilting his face to Suguru's. ]
I think I can remember how to do that. [ And he leans in, brushing a far gentler kiss over Yuji's lips. ]
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