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It had been a tense few weeks. Even more difficult than it had been since their separation. Samatoki was sure that all they needed was time apart, to give themselves space and forget what they saw the day they were clinging together waiting for their demise. But either they hadn't forgotten completely or Jyuto was holding something else from him. That wasn't entirely new to him, as Jyuto never really spoke about his feelings without flying into a rage that would rival Samatoki's own. But there was something that was on his mind, Samatoki had no doubt.
"Hey," he started simply, taking a drag to give him a moment to figure out how exactly he wanted to word his question. "What's wrong? You've been looking spaced out all night."
He'd been thinking about it for a while now. Since they'd begun to speak to each other again, post-Jyuto's complete cut of contact shortly after the events of the Fall, really. Despite his insistence (mostly to himself, as no one else with eyes would believe him, surely) that his relationship with Samatoki was to stay strictly business-turned-sexually-beneficial, there was no longer any denying that it was something more than that. The clinging to him in attempts to shelter him when they both thought that it was the end had made that clear enough.
With the change of dynamic in the relationship, however, was due a change in the way that they treated each other.
Jyuto was a closed off man. Separate from his emotions. Separate from other people. Being alone for so long made it easy for him to completely ignore his feelings, or the idea that he even had them to begin with. Feelings were for pussies. Emotions were for pussies. Whatever was going on in his life was no one's business but his own. That was how he saw things. That was how he always thought that he would see things.
Or so he thought.
Blinking himself out of his thoughts, Jyuto tapped the ash from his own cigarette off into the nearby ashtray.
"Nothing's wrong." There he was, getting unnecessarily snippy again. Not how he wanted to start this conversation. "... I'm thinking about something."
"Is that right? Good for you." It was a genuine joke with no malice behind his voice, just something to fill the space that he was going to need to think. It wasn't lost on him that they were both as emotionally constipated as the other, and if one or the other actually had something they needed to get off of their chest it would take eons to get to it.
Samatoki had attempted bringing up emotions in the past, trying to level with Jyuto on things like their shared lack of parents, living through a war as young men, undergoing loss or betrayal. But Jyuto would always reply just as bitchy and it would end with Samatoki punching through a wall or with Jyuto leaving. It was time to actually be a man and suck at least a little bit of it up.
"You gonna keep it quiet or do you want to say something to me?"
There was no easy way to bring this up.
Jyuto and Samatoki shared a lot of things. A lack of family, war experience, sudden and tragic loss. They were akin to two sides of the same coin, really. The differences between them lie simply within the paths they'd chosen to take in life; Samatoki rebuilding his family from the ground up in his life of organized crime, and Jyuto choosing to get his revenge through a series of complicated legal hoops. They shared the same short fuse (though Jyuto was used to wrangling his own under the correct circumstances.) They shared a common goal. They shared cigarettes.
But the one part of Jyuto that he had refused to share was his body.
The two of them were no strangers to spending nights together. Evenings together. Mornings. Middays. Really, whenever the time was convenient. If there was time in the day to blow off steam, off it would blow. Most of the occasions were quick, primarily due to them being in rather public spaces, but even in private quarters', Jyuto refused to completely undress. It wasn't as if they were a sensual pair anyway -- quick worked just fine for them. It was stress relief, after all. Not a romantic getaway between two lovers.
'Quick' meant no questions. No explanations. Because Jyuto wasn't good at explanations.
'Quick' aided him in his efforts to hide from Samatoki something he had been hiding from him since the day that they had met.
"You realize that I trust you, right?"
Samatoki crushed the last of his cigarette into the ashtray, raising an eyebrow at his teammate. "Yeah? I'd hope so by now."
Again, this was likely something he really needed to say. It was something eating at him inside, but Samatoki couldn't just smile all warmly at him and give him a safe place to speak. He couldn't peel back every bit of hardcore he'd painted onto his own features over the years to give Jyuto a kind face to speak to. And even if he did, Samatoki would grow upset with himself and ruin everything that the poor cop was trying to get to.
Both his greatest and his worst trait was his loyalty, no matter what happened Samatoki would trust in his family. He trusted Nemu despite her defecting to become the enemy, proud of her for sticking to her beliefs and grinding her heels into the top so that she would go nowhere. He trusted those in his family back home. Hell, he trusted a majority of his underlings here. And he trusted Jyuto far more than he did any of them. "Whatever you have to say doesn't have to leave this balcony."
"Good, because it isn't going to. Unless you'd like me to kick you off and make it look like an accident." Following in Samatoki's footsteps, Jyuto stabbed the last bit of his cigarette into the ashtray to give himself another moment to think. It wasn't like the two of them to speak gently to each other, anyway. There wasn't going to be a confession of any sort without some roughness. That was just how the two of them operated. Jyuto would have it no other way -- too much softness from someone like Samatoki would exacerbate discomfort instead of make him feel at ease. Jyuto didn't like gentle. That was why the two of them got on so well.
Eyebrows knitted together, he thought for a brief second.
Was it worth it to do this? To share such a massive part of himself that he kept hidden away?
Was it worth it to share that weakness with someone who could so easily exploit it?
"There's something I'd like to share with you." His hands folded together, and he looked over at Samatoki. "To show you how much I mean that."
"Okay, I'm listening." It might have been too soft, and Samatoki didn't mean to say it with such little fire behind it. Maybe it was because he no longer had a cigarette hanging from his lips.
Maybe it was because he was hoping that Jyuto finally fucking said something. Deciding that they wanted to be more or less exclusive had taken so much out of him they'd barely spoken of their relationship since, and they'd barely touched each other in the time since he'd tossed Sasara to the curb (lovingly, unfortunately).
Showing weakness was difficult. Jyuto was not a man who enjoyed being viewed as weak in any capacity. Losing his parents as a child had taught him well that in order to survive in the world, he had to present himself as 'tough'. That he wasn't allowed to be flawed. Flaws were easily exploitable. Those who were weak were easily stamped out. You hide your flaws to climb the ladder, to succeed, to achieve your goals.
But in order for them to be... exclusive, this was a hurdle that they had to get over. It would grow exceedingly more difficult to hide it from Samatoki were their relationship to evolve farther than it already had.
Saying nothing else, Jyuto unfolded his hands, simply opting to remove the red leather gloves from his hands to let his partner(?) see for himself.
The left hand, flesh and bone. Long, slender fingers.
And the right one, black and synthetic. Mechanical joints.
Mismatched. Wrong.
Weak.
Jyuto held out his right hand to Samatoki, choosing to stay quiet and let the other man observe.
The boy, traumatized and shoved somewhere far within the corners of Samatoki's psyche, pressed him to reach out his hand and touch the one that Jyuto was giving him to admire the mechanics that must be inside. The man he'd become urged him to keep his hands to himself and show Jyuto that it was almost stupid to think this was supposed to be hard to do. It's just a fucking body part, right? He'd been inside of Jyuto, why the hell would this make a difference?
He compromised with himself, reaching out for him for a moment but stopping just before he touched the prosthetic. Samatoki wasn't going to be disrespectful to one of the only people he genuinely had a connection like this with. It obviously was something Usagi-chan had been hiding from him for years at this point, even throughout the hundred times they'd snuck off to sleep together. Jyuto had never taken off his gloves, nor had he completely been undressed for any of their more intimate moments.
"Can I ask questions?" He had several! But again, Jyuto wasn't one to share his feelings and there were obviously going to be some connected to a missing limb. He wanted to know if it was from the war, if it was from an altercation due to his job, from something else... but he couldn't just blurt it out. Samatoki could be a nice guy when he wanted to be.
There was a strong part of Jyuto that wanted to say no. To decline any discussion, to simply show what he wanted to show and move on. To make it more of a notification as opposed to an ordeal. Like hey, we've known each other for years at this point. Now you know that I have a prosthetic arm. And for that to be the end of the conversation.
But that simply wasn't feasible. Of course Samatoki would have questions. Any sane person would.
Hence why Jyuto refused to notify anyone. Answering questions meant tearing open wounds that he spent most of his life attempting, and failing, to properly close.
"I can't stop you." Was all that he said, both a factual statement and a way to not outright decline the request.
Damn, he wished he'd held on to that cigarette for a bit longer.
Samatoki was expecting him to be cold. But he didn't really seem to change his expression at all, which gave him the confidence to actually ask.
"Was it because of your job?" That seemed like the one that would be the easiest to navigate. He wouldn't ask dumb shit like 'did it hurt?' or 'is this why you never get naked?' because they seemed pretty self-explanatory. Of course losing a fucking limb would hurt. Of course he'd never gotten naked because of it.
Jyuto was one of the strongest, nastiest fuckers Samatoki knew. Being incomplete would leave him weak in people's eyes. Something they could steal from him and manipulate him with; just like he manipulated them.
"No."
An easy question to answer, and the one he had been expecting first. How kind of Samatoki to follow the script and make this conversation go relatively smoothly. In any normal circumstance, Jyuto would have left him with that simple answer and nothing else. Because, of course, he didn't need to know anything else. He'd gotten his answer.
Instead, he gave a second's pause, looking out over the railing of the balcony instead of at the human being he was conversing with.
"... Because of the crash."
"...oh." Up until this moment, Samatoki had lived under the impression that 'the crash' had only claimed his parents. That he was not involved beyond being orphaned by it. But that was the only thing that would make sense, and now those immense and almost irrational thoughts Jyuto had on the cause of the crash and everything that followed it made a bit more sense. He was chasing not only those he loved, revenge, and purpose - he was missing a part of him.
He finally reached out to touch the prosthetic, much more gentle with it than he likely had to be. Jyuto couldn't feel his hands as they examined it a little bit closer, curious as to how he'd never noticed. The fingers must have still been able to curl at will somehow. "You don't have to wear your gloves around just me anymore if you don't want, got it? It's fine."
He should've just openly said 'if you want to get naked now it's okay!' or 'I accept you for all you are!' or something along those lines, but it seemed almost juvenile to bring that up in the moment. He did need to know Samatoki didn't see him as roughly 90% of a man, as he likely felt he was, however.
Seeing Samatoki be so gentle was... strange. Of course, Jyuto couldn't feel the details of his examinations, but it was odd to watch regardless. It made his heart squeeze in his chest and a lump form in his throat, one he tried desperately to swallow around. The change in demeanor had caught him off guard. The gentle skirting of Samatoki's fingers across the prosthetic had also surprised him; he'd expected a more... uninterested reaction. Or, rather, one that was less curious. He had expected a "so? You're still the same shitty bunny cop" and for that to be the end of it. The what-appeared-to-be-genuine interest in his missing limb made Jyuto equal parts uncomfortable and... almost bashful, like he needed to pull away before Samatoki committed his newfound glaring weakness to memory.
Growing up without parents made one a target. Growing up without parents and missing a limb made one an even bigger target. And as such, one learns to hide their weaknesses to the best of their ability so as to eliminate others' chances of stepping on them. Jyuto had been wearing gloves for as long as he could remember; long sleeves, always with gloves. His peers had always found it weird, but the coverings made him feel safe. If the weaknesses were hidden, they were essentially erased. They couldn't use the ammo that they couldn't find.
Jyuto took in a deep breath, avoiding eye contact as he willed his emotions back down into the pit where they belonged.
Emotions, after all, made one a target as well.
"Of course I'll want to. But maybe there'll be an occasion where I forget to put them on."
That was good enough. Samatoki looked up at him to show that he was listening but his attention turned back to the hand he was examining. It was probably too much attention and he would probably snap a little more if he kept touching him like this, so he let go of him finally.
"Come back inside," he commanded, though it sounded more like a suggestion than anything. It was starting to get warmer outside - but it was still cold enough that they wouldn't want to keep all of what they were doing just to the balcony.
There it was. Finally released from his hold, Jyuto could relax a little bit more. It was far easier to slip back into his carefully-controlled persona when the entirety of the conversation's attention wasn't devoted to him. Standing up from where he'd been seated, he finally met Samatoki's gaze for the first time in what felt like hours.
Being warmer inside did sound nice, regardless of the bubble's temperature. Not like either of them cared about shit smelling like smoke, anyway. Overlooking a city on a balcony had just come to be a habit that the two of them had formed together. It would have made him feel homesick, had he not been the person he was.
"Alright." Who was he to argue, anyway? Quirking one eyebrow up at Samatoki, he followed him inside, closing the door behind the two of them.
"You don't work in the morning, do you?" Samatoki leaned against a wall just past the balcony's sliding door, a plea hiding somewhere in his voice.
"I don't now." He'd been working his ass off these past few months, anyway. If they wanted to get on his ass about taking a day off, he'd butter them up somehow to make up for it. Such was the Jyuto Iruma way. "Is there a reason you're asking?"
"Yeah. There is." They'd more or less confirmed their status as boyfriends, as juvenile as it sounded. Jyuto had already listened to all of Samatoki's sob stories and Samatoki now got to unpack the majority of Jyuto's. They were both seemingly alright with what the other handed to them despite how deep their rabbit holes may go, so maybe it wasn't too much to ask.
Jyuto had always really enjoyed the way Samatoki took things into his own hands, as far as he could tell - as much of a brat as he was, Jyuto wasn’t very dominant. So while he had the chance Samatoki caught Jyuto and pulled him tight. Just in case, he kept his lips to himself, but he was close enough for the cop to know exactly what was on his mind. "Keep 'em off."
Jyuto hadn't been expecting to be pulled into an embrace, but it wasn't as though he hated it. Maybe it was a bit too much for the current atmosphere. Still, like hell he was about to push Samatoki away. For as bratty as he knew he could be, he wasn't exactly in the mood to do that anyway. The physical touch was nice. The closeness was nice. Just thinking that made him (internally) roll his eyes at himself. What a pussy thing to think.
"Alright." He wasn't going to deny the request, and besides, maybe this could be treated as an exercise in vulnerability. They were supposed to be boyfriends now, after all. Learning the ins and outs of each other and learning to be comfortable with one another were par for the course. He'd already trusted Samatoki this much. He could trust him with the sight of his fake limb for a little bit longer. "Is there anything else you want."
It was a 'push' sort of prompt, to hear exactly what Samatoki wanted to see.
Just his hand?
The rest?
"You know what I want." That was pretty broad, as they had fallen into a relationship even before they were in this world that involved a lot of sneaking around and late-night rendezvous. They'd slept together more times than either would likely ever try to count, but it was always rushed and in a fit of rage or passion. The two of them were mostly clothed, in a hurry, just trying to chase pleasure after or before a dangerous job.
This time he would make it last, have it be more like they cared for one another. He took Jyuto's (flesh) hand, pulling it to his chest. His shirt was just as unbuttoned as ever despite having only been outside a moment ago so he pressed Jyuto's hand to his skin. It was almost too intimate even for Samatoki. But they might as well get the initial touch over with before he ended up holding it mid-fuck and overwhelming the poor guy.
Jyuto really was about to give him the whole 'show me' song and dance. It was a habit for him -- turn on the brattiness, force Samatoki's hand in leading the way. This time, however, he didn't need to 'force' anything. Samatoki'd taken the lead all on his own, surprising Jyuto in more ways than one as the skin of his organic palm was planted on his boyfriend's exposed chest.
The gesture was far too intimate, immediately prompting him to want to pull away. The feeling of skin to skin contact was something that he hadn't felt on his hand in... god, who knew how long. The gloves had always provided that barrier. The warmth of his skin, the feeling of his heartbeat under Jyuto's fingertips, was enough to make him recoil backward. However, he kept his hand still despite his likely-visible discomfort.
"Just don't gawk at what you see."
If he was planning on taking the prosthetic off there was absolutely no guarantee he wouldn't stare at it for a bit. It was normal, to have something like that catch one's eye for a few extra seconds. But Samatoki wasn't going to voice anything or apologize preemptively so Jyuto was just going to have to deal with it. He just gave Jyuto a grunt in response.
And then he took Jyuto's hand away, reaching to unbutton the cop's shirt. "You're gonna let me see all of you now, right?" It was just one final is this okay? before they finally were at that point - if the crash had claimed his arm, it would've likely left some scars, too. He was fine with that. Samatoki had no worries about any other evidence that Jyuto had barely escaped death now that he understood what exactly happened to him that day. But just in case it was too much for him... in his own way instead of a more direct approach.
"I suppose there isn't any point in hiding anything from you at this stage."
Jyuto had long since gotten used to the scars that the crash had left him with. In the beginning, he had loathed them; he hated how marred and disfigured his body looked, hated the now-constant reminder that the world had taken so much from him at such a young age. A majority of them had, thankfully, faded with time, but they were still unmistakably present. But, again, Samatoki had already heard his sob story. He might as well get the pictures to go along with his book.
The reluctance in him was more mental than physical. He allowed Samatoki to unbutton his shirt, shrugging out of it himself to rid himself of it. Jyuto could only hope that the flush of red to his skin (it was nerves, not embarrassment. What did he have to be embarrassed about?) would go un-commented on, but knowing Samatoki, it'd be the first thing he'd fixate on.
"I will have to remove it eventually. So you're aware."
Once Jyuto was out of his shirt, Samatoki carefully undid his own buttons and shrugged it off as pleasantly as he could in the circumstances. He pulled Jyuto close again, fixating more on his neck than anywhere else. Even if he did note the tinge of pink on his body, they weren't there to be cutesy and tease one another over something as childish as sheepishness. "I get it," he muttered against his skin. "You don't scare me with that shit."
It was actually kind of exciting, though he wouldn't let anything other than the pounding of his heart give it away. He'd always wanted to level with his partner, trying his hardest to try and get him to open up and see how similar they could be. But Samatoki had accepted they'd never be alike and it felt better that way. Now that they were naked in both senses together he could finally understand why the hell Jyuto felt the need to be so nasty at times.
He didn't seem so disagreeable in the state he was melting him into. His hand held more warmth than Samatoki was expecting.