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With the treaty signed, signaling a close to the fifteen year war between the straggling remnants of both humanity and the Futurans, the Special Defense Unit partied.
They knew it wasn’t the end of the struggle by any means - the treaty was simply a ceasefire, and reconstruction would take just as long, if not longer, than the war had.
That could wait. Tonight was for celebrating.
Eito stood off to the side and watched the bloated, distended corpses of his beloved comrades dance and drink and feast. His chest ached. He wanted so badly to join in. But even from this distance the sights and sounds of revelry threatened to make him empty his stomach. It was an apt summary of his last fifteen years, he thought. He’d taken a strategic position, helping plan from the shadows, and only allegedly carrying out a few assassinations. Takumi made a perfect public face for the Rebellion alongside Kamyuhn, and the other SDU members had quickly found their niches as well.
It’d been a very lonely time. They were constantly surrounded by new people, even with Eito’s less outward role. By the time he was done working for the day he had little energy left to spend with the people whose presences he’d learned to enjoy.
Or the person in particular he wanted to spend the most time with.
Even as Takumi’s right hand man, Eito felt like they’d drifted apart as the war dragged on. Their conversations were short, courteous, focused solely on matters at hand. Some of it was Eito’s fault, he knew. He had suggested some professional distance between the two of them after rumors started circulating of their romantic involvement. There wasn’t any truth to it, of course, as much as Eito wanted there to be. Takumi was distant, partially still fixated on the loss of Nozomi and doggedly throwing himself into work as a distraction. He thought the rumor had started when Takumi fell ill from stress and Eito had been his dedicated caretaker during those months.
There’d been a few near-misses on Eito’s part during that time. Moments where his hand lingered a little too long while helping Takumi wash up, or where he caught himself staring while Takumi dressed. It didn’t matter that he looked the way he did to Eito’s defective eyes. Eito adapted to his appearance and learned to accept it, learned to desire it, over the last decade and a half. And Takumi’s natural charm and kindhearted nature particularly when it came to Eito and his condition had sounded the death knell for Eito’s heart.
Takumi never acknowledged those moments. He wasn’t a stupid man, most of the time, so Eito knew that he understood how Eito felt. But it was never addressed. Takumi seemed sad when Eito suggested distance. He didn’t protest it, though, and they kept each other at a mutual arm’s length.
It had been seven years since that conversation. Takumi even returned to calling him exclusively by his surname.
It hurt. It hurt so fucking badly.
Over the last year, though, Eito had come up with a plan. One that would maybe allow him to have some semblance of a normal life. And tomorrow, free from the burden of the war, he would enact it.
It was the culmination of far more introspection than he ever thought himself capable of. At the end of it, there really was only one conclusion.
He needed to remove his eyes.
Sight had always been the most troublesome for him. Hearing? Wear ear plugs. Smell? Essential oils on his upper lip or clipped inside the cowl of his jacket. Touch? Gloves and clothes that covered his entire body. Taste, he had yet to put himself in a situation where he had to think about that.
But his vision had no easy, subtle workaround. He’d been wearing the wrong prescription glasses for decades at this point, but it was never an ideal solution. Wearing a blindfold was a less drastic measure than enucleation but it was impractical, impermanent.
Gathering supplies for the procedure under the radar was difficult. It wasn’t like he could ask Yugamu for the items he needed without garnering suspicion. He managed to get everything he needed from… less scrupulous sources. His relatively high position in the rebellion also allowed him the chance to practice on prisoners slated for execution. Everyone seemed content to chalk that up to some fascination with the anatomy of the humans he found so disgusting. At this point the procedure itself was rote, muscle memory.
So, this would be his last night with eyes.
He found himself staring at Takumi as he danced around. The man was clearly a little intoxicated. He’d put on a little bulk in the years that have passed, although Eito still towered over him on the rare occasion they stood next to each other.
Eito leaned against the wall, nursing his beer. It had long since gone lukewarm and he hadn’t taken more than a few sips. It tasted bad, but as long as he kept holding onto it, people didn’t try to force more drinks into his hands.
“Aotsuki!” Takumi called, waving at him. “Aotsuki, stop sulking. Come join us.”
He hesitated for a moment, before taking a few steps forward. “I’m not sulking.”
“What else would you call standing at the wall with such a sad look on your face?” Takumi asked. “It’s time to celebrate!”
When Eito didn’t move any closer, Takumi sighed and stuck out his hand. “C’mon.”
Eito took it gingerly, and Takumi yanked him closer with surprising force. Eito stumbled and Takumi caught him, helping him back upright.
He felt like he’d been electrified by the closeness of their bodies. He can feel his face turning a bright red, which he hoped was masked by the dim light.
Takumi was still holding him close.
At the DJ booth, salvaged from the old Last Defense Academy, Eito could see Gaku’s eyes widen. He watched as Gaku fiddled with some buttons on his soundboard, and to his horror, the music changed .
It slowed.
Takumi looked up at him, his cheeks dusted with a light pink. There were still dark circles under his eyes and a few days of blood-red stubble had accumulated on his face, but it was the most carefree Eito had seen him in years.
“Won’t you dance with me, Aotsuki?” Takumi asked softly. “You can lead.” He guided one of Eito’s hands to rest on his hip, his arms encircling Eito’s waist.
This is dangerous, Eito thought as he set his other hand on Takumi’s shoulder. This is extremely dangerous.
It didn’t stop him.
Takumi rested his head against Eito’s chest. Eito knew his heart was pounding and now Takumi would know too. He swayed them both in time with the music.
“What are you going to do now?” Takumi asked suddenly, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Eito’s uniform.
“I’m going to take some time away to myself,” Eito said. His thumb ran little circles over Takumi’s hip as he spoke. “I think that’s what I need. A fresh start. What about you?”
Takumi sighed and it carried the weight of over a decade of war. “I don’t think anything will change for me. I’ll still have to help Kamyuhn. I’ll still be the leader I never wanted to be.” He sounded almost on the verge of tears.
Takumi is a touchy, emotional drunk, Eito thought to himself with a smirk. I… guess I could’ve predicted that. He watched in thinly-veilied terror as Takumi nuzzled his face into his chest.
“You’ll still have me,” Eito said, his voice tremulous. “Once I return from my sabbatical, I’ll be right by your side. As always. We can share the burden, same as we did back then.”
The silence after he spoke stung. He glanced around the room, noticing that the rest of the SDU was watching them awkwardly. He doubted they could hear the conversation over the music, but Takumi clinging to him like that certainly was garnering unwanted attention. Over the usual, foul smell of the human body, Eito could smell Takumi’s shampoo and cologne. He leaned down, burying his face in Takumi’s hair and inhaling deeply through his nose.
“Thank you, Eito,” Takumi finally said. “Sincerely, thank you. I don’t know if I could’ve done this without you.”
Eito blushed again. He needed Takumi to back up if he was going to continue praising him. “Stop, you don’t need to lie to me.”
Takumi lifted his head and looked up at him with a childish, indignant look. “I’m not lying to you, what the hell? I’m serious.”
“You’ve spent the last seven years pushing me away, Takumi,” Eito said. “I find your thanks a little hollow in light of that.”
That shut him up. Takumi put his head back on Eito’s chest.
“Hey,” Takumi said, “you’ve never said what you’re doing with your time off.”
Eito tilted his head thoughtfully, considering how he wanted to answer that. He took a slow breath in, stalling for time. “I’m… bettering myself.”
“Not sure why I expected anything other than a non-answer,” Takumi muttered. “Well, I hope you enjoy your time away.
I won’t , Eito thought. He wasn’t even leaving the base. He’d prepared everything in his own quarters, including food and water for while he healed. But getting this out of the way would give him his life back, once he adjusted. Maybe even allow him to rebuild his bonds with the others. With Takumi , he corrected himself, because he knew that was what he cared about most.
The song ended after far too long.
Everyone was still ogling them. Eito gently tapped Takumi on the shoulder, prompting him to pull away.
Before he could stop himself, Eito cupped Takumi’s face in his gloved hands. He stared down at him, trying to commit every detail to memory. This would probably be the last time he got to look at him this closely. If he forgot what everyone else looked like, that was fine. But he needed to remember Takumi’s face.
He was shoved away roughly, and it caught him so off-guard he stumbled and fell on his ass. “Aotsuki, what the hell are you doing!?”
“I - I was just,” Eito said weakly, looking up at Takumi.
Takumi didn’t look angry. It was hard to label the emotion he saw. He was still red in the face, although that could’ve just been the alcohol.
“I wanted to remember your face,” Eito whispered.
“You only requested a week off,” Takumi said. “You’re not gonna forget what I look like in that little time.” His words were a little slurred, but it still sounded like he was chastising a child. He extended a hand down to Eito to help him up, which was ignored as Eito scrambled back to his feet.
Eito dusted himself off and gave a slight bow to the assembled crowd. “Excuse me.”
He left the room as quickly as he could.
By the time he made it to his quarters he could feel hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He shut the door behind him and slumped against it. Sobs wracked his entire body. Almost thirty-three years old and crying over being rejected by the guy I like , he thought, somewhat deliriously. It would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.
His surgical supplies were just feet away. He could start early if he wanted to.
“No,” he said out loud, to no one other than himself. “No, I need to have a clear head when I do this.” He stood up, wiping his face on his sleeve. He sniffled a few times.
There was a knock on the door. Eito kicked the box containing his surgery supplies under his bed but made no move to open the door for his visitor. He stood perfectly still, hoping they would go away.
“Aotsuki?”
Fuck. Takumi.
He’d know that voice anywhere.
“Aotsuki, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Takumi said. “You just startled me.”
Eito didn’t say anything. The chest pain was back, crushing, like his heart was going to explode. He didn’t necessarily believe Takumi, either. That would’ve been a very delayed reaction if he was just startled.
“Please,” Takumi said. “Just say something so I know you’re okay. I’m not gonna go away.”
“I’m fine,” Eito croaked. “Please, just… leave me alone. We can talk when I’m done with my sabbatical. Go have fun with the others.” Do what I can’t , was the part left implied in the silence.
Takumi huffed, sounding irritated. “No. I’m not doing that. I’ll break the door down if I have to.”
“You’re just as stubborn and stupid as ever,” Eito growled. He opened the door, hoping his eyes weren’t too red and puffy from crying.
Takumi pushed past him into the room, looking around. He hadn’t been in Eito’s quarters in a very long time. It was entirely unchanged. “I’ll be straightforward with you, Aotsuki.”
Eito’s heart skipped a beat. “Straightforward with me?”
The air in the room felt oppressive and heavy as Takumi sidled up to Eito, like he was sizing him up. Eito breathed faster, his chest heaving up and down, rooted to the spot.
“You’re hiding something from me,” Takumi said simply, jabbing a finger into Eito’s chest. “Probably many things. So spit it out.”
Eito sat on his bed, stiff. “Even after all this time, you can still read me like a book. Yes, I’m keeping a few things secret from you, for your own good.”
Like, for example, that I’ve dreamt so many times of you being in my room and pushing you to the bed, kissing you and hearing what kind of horrid little noises you would make when I fuck you and make you mine fully. And that if it doesn’t happen tonight, I’ll never be able to see it.
His stomach churned again. That particular fantasy of their first time has haunted him for years, as if he was still a teenage boy. It was always disgustingly tender. There were other, more violent dreams of him and Takumi, but looking at the man in his room now, those weren’t the ones that came to mind. All he could picture was cradling the monster in front of him in his arms.
Takumi flicked him on the forehead. “Aotsuki. I can hear you thinking, it’s too loud in that head of yours.”
Eito flinched, raising his hand and glaring at Takumi. “I’ll tell you everything when I’m done with my break. I promise. You, of all people, know I’m a man of my word.”
“I’m not satisfied with that answer, as both your general, and your friend,” Takumi said.
Friend . God, how such a nice word could hurt.
“It really doesn’t matter if you’re satisfied with it or not,” Eito said, bristling. He stood up, looming over Takumi with his full height. “You’ll simply have to content yourself with it for now.”
“Tch.” Takumi frowned. “Sometimes I think I’ll never understand you.”
If he feels that way now, imagine how he’ll feel when he sees what I’ve done in a week. It almost made him laugh.
“You’re starting to contaminate my room,” Eito said. “Please go now.”
Wordlessly, Takumi took his leave, a thoughtful look on his face.
The second he was gone, Eito relocked his door. He took off his uniform and hung it back up, before laying down on his bed. He was vaguely aware that he was hard. That was probably the most physical contact he’d ever had with Takumi and it was having the exact effect that he feared on him.
There was a moment where he considered just ignoring it until it went away. That was his usual strategy. But he realized he was too worked up for that to be successful now.
He slid down his briefs and squeezed his eyes shut tight. He conjured up an image of Takumi bent over from behind, and fucked his hand, pretending his fist was his general.
When the Takumi in his fantasy called him a good boy he came hard enough to see stars.
He felt disgusted with himself as he washed up. But at least now he was tired.
=====
The next morning Eito woke up early. He laid out his supplies before showering with antibacterial soap. He allowed himself the dignity of underwear for the procedure, but not much else. He tied his hair back into a loose tail.
Eito had made his peace with the fact that this would not be a sterile procedure. Acquiring the appropriate broad-spectrum antibiotics were part of his preparations regardless, but especially in light of that fact. Sterile self-surgery was an oxymoron in the case of enucleation.
He laid down a waterproof tarp and sat cross-legged in the center. His supplies were arranged in the same order as they were whenever he practiced, so he didn’t need to look.
His hand started to shake when he brought the needle to his left eye. The retrobulbar anesthesia was what would make this possible, injected behind his eyeball. Not only would it numb it, but it would stop his eye from moving, and the epinephrine in the anesthetic would control some of the bleeding.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself, and tried again. This time he was successful, and he felt a pop as the needle pierced into the empty space behind his eye.
His eyes started watering and he pushed down the plunger, delivering the medication. The pressure was painful in its own right, too much fluid in too small of a space. He pulled the needle straight back out and discarded it by throwing it a few feet away.
He waited patiently for the medication to work. He could feel some of the medication - or was it blood? - drip down his face. After a few minutes, he thought he was sufficiently numb.
The curved enucleation scissors came next. He hadn’t practiced on himself, let alone with anesthesia, and he struggled to guide it where it needed to go without feeling along the rims of his eye with his hand. There was no pain as it glided in, and he severed the muscles with a few strategic snips.
“You’re doing good,” he said to himself as he slid the scissors deeper into his eye socket. “You’re doing the right thing.”
He opened the scissors as much as he could and cut the optic nerve.
Even through the anesthetic, there was a searing pain and he screamed. He could feel hot blood cascading down the side of his face, down his chest, and hear it hitting the tarp. The scissors’ curve allowed it to simply scoop the eyeball out.
Eito dumped the contents of the scissors into his hand. He could still see it, of course, and he held the eyeball and the trailing bits of optic nerve between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it closely
“That’s halfway, Eito,” he whispered. He set the eyeball aside.
Bleeding. Have to control the bleeding. Where did I put the gauze?
He had to turn his head extra far to inspect his supplies, but found the gauze easily. He slapped it over his now empty eye socket.
He was shaking violently. The anesthetic numbed the physical pain but not the emotional shock. For a moment he was afraid he was going to throw up, and he could taste bile and the few sips of beer he’d had the night before at the back of his throat. He choked it down, and started reaching for the second syringe of anesthetic.
Eito got as far as uncapping the needle before passing out.
===
When he woke up, Eito couldn’t move. One of his hands was held in place above his head, while his other was restrained at his side. His ankles were similarly immobilized.
He could feel a presence on the side he couldn’t see out of, and craned his neck to see.
Takumi was staring at him. The jovial look on his face from the night before was gone. He was back to looking haunted.
“Aotsuki,” he whispered, leaning forward in his chair. “Why?” He put his hand on Eito’s shoulder, stroking his arm. He’d been washed up at some point and dressed in a hospital gown.
Eito felt a pang of sadness at the tone in Takumi’s voice. He sounded betrayed, almost.
“Is this what you were talking about doing on your break? ‘Bettering yourself’?” Takumi said. “You… why? I don’t understand. You’d been doing so well all this time.”
It took a moment for Eito to find his voice. His mouth was dry. “I’m a very good actor, Takumi. You should know that.”
Takumi stood up and moved his chair so that he was sitting on the side Eito could see on. “Why didn’t you tell us you were struggling?”
“And what would you have done?” Eito snapped, leaning forward. It pulled awkwardly at the restraints and he was forced to lie back again. “Why the fuck am I tied up, Takumi?”
“To stop you from hurting yourself. Until you promise me you won’t touch that other eye, I won’t take them off and someone will be with you at all times,” Takumi said. He was using the voice Eito associated with his pre-battle speeches, the timbre of authority.
There was no room to argue with him like this.
Two can play that game, Takumi , Eito thought. He looked around the hospital room as much as he could. “Where are we, anyways?”
“Don’t change the subject,” Takumi said. “Promise me you won’t hurt yourself again.”
“I can’t do that. The second you release me from these restraints, I’ll go right back to trying. I’ve made up my mind and you will not be able to change it.”
Takumi got up with a sigh and stood at the foot of the bed. “Do you know what you’re putting me through? Do you know what it was like to find you like this? I went to your room that afternoon when nobody had seen you after the party. I knew something was wrong, I just really didn’t want to believe it was anything like… that.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “You could’ve told me. Whatever happened to sharing the burden, Aotsuki?”
Eito averted his gaze, unable to meet Takumi’s eyes.
“Why would you do this?” Takumi asked again. He sat back down and grabbed Eito’s hand, holding it tight.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” Eito said, his voice shaking. “I’ll tell you anyways, because it’s you. I think this might be the best way to alleviate the impact my condition has on me.”
Takumi fell silent. Eito could see the gears turning in his mind. The heat of Takumi’s hand in his was making him dizzy.
“Oh,” Takumi whispered. “Oh, I - I’m so sorry.” He looked like he was going to be sick.
Eito thought he could’ve heard a pin drop in the resulting silence. He allowed Takumi to sit in his discomfort for a few moments.
“I’ve been planning this for a year,” Eito said. “An entire year. I was waiting until the treaty was signed and my absence would be less noticeable. I didn’t want to be so selfish as to take myself out of commission while you needed me.” The gauze around his eye itched, but he couldn’t do anything about it, restrained as he was.
“Then you can’t do it now, either,” Takumi said desperately. “I need you, Aotsuki, I still need you. I’ve needed you this whole time. I can’t do this without you.” There was a crazed look in his usually vacant eyes. “Please.”
Eito shook his head, pretending that hearing his general beg him like that wasn’t making him incredibly aroused. “This isn’t just about you, Takumi. It’s my quality of life too.”
“Aotsuki…”
He wished Takumi would call him by his first name again, just once. The formality hurt. “I need you to respect my decision, even if you don’t understand it. You can’t leave me restrained here forever, anyways, and I have every intention of seeing this through.”
Takumi stammered a few nonsense syllables in a panic. “Why don’t you let a doctor do it, or Yugamu? Why do you have to do it yourself?”
“Use those overworked little brain cells of yours, General Sumino,” Eito said. “I don’t want a human, or Futuran for that matter, touching me like that, let alone while I’m unconscious and vulnerable. Not dissimilar to how I prefer to make my own food.”
“I think that really is pretty different,” Takumi argued. “One is sandwiches and onigiri and the other is cutting out your own fucking eyeballs , Aotsuki. Besides! You’ve eaten food I’ve made for you before.”
“Well, you’re an exception. You’re special to me,” Eito said sheepishly.
There was something pulling at the fabric of his glove. Takumi’s hands were working frantically to remove it, and he held Eito’s bare hand tight.
“Gross!” Eito protested on instinct, but he could feel the tips of his ears burning. He watched, enraptured, as Takumi lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to Eito’s knuckles.
Eito made a choked noise, unable to look away.
“I should’ve said something sooner,” Takumi said quietly, his mouth brushing against Eito’s hand as he spoke. “God, Aotsuki, I’m so stupid.”
“What are you saying?” Eito asked. His voice faltered. This had to be a dream. He was bleeding out on the floor of his quarters after botching his surgery and this was the comfort his dying brain was giving him.
Takumi looked up at him. “I love you, Eito, I have for so long, and I never said anything because I didn’t want to scare you away. I’m so incredibly stupid.” He got up again, coming closer to the head of the bed. He rubbed his thumb over the bulky gauze bandage over his eye. “If I’m an exception… if I’m special to you… let me help.”
Eito knew he was breathing hard. Takumi just told me he loves me and he’s offering to help remove my other eye and he kissed my knuckles and he’s so close to my face-
That train of thought was interrupted as Takumi kissed him. It was gentle and hesitant, Takumi tilting his head to the side without the bandage.
Eito had been waiting too long for this to stay so chaste. He pressed his tongue against the seam of Takumi’s lips, feeling them part under him. He probed into the general’s mouth, licking against the other man’s tongue. Takumi separated them and crawled onto the hospital bed, straddling Eito’s lap.
Takumi’s chest was heaving and he was staring at Eito with a hungry expression on his face.
“Tell me something. Is this why you held my face like that last night? When you said you wanted to remember it?” he asked. He tilted Eito’s chin up with his index finger.
“Yes,” Eito said breathlessly.
“Do you want to know why I pushed you away?” Takumi continued. “It’s because I was afraid you would be able to tell how badly I wanted to kiss you just then. I thought I repulsed you. I thought I looked like a monster to you.”
Eito laughed. “You do look like a monster to me. But your personality shone past that, at first, and after nearly fifteen years, I’ve started to find the monster of your body attractive. I’ve never met anyone like you, Takumi.”
Takumi looked equal measures disturbed and turned on. It took him a second to move again, once again leaning down to kiss Eito.
“Mmph,” Eito moaned into the kiss, digging his nails into his palm where his hand was restrained by his side. Takumi intertwined his fingers with the fingers of the hand restrained above Eito’s head.
This wasn’t how Eito expected his first kiss to go. He never thought he would have a first kiss. He’d assumed he would spend the rest of his life craving the same person, and then he would die. He’d made his peace with it somewhere along the line.
Takumi seemed bolder now, taking a more aggressive position. He held Eito’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissing him like he was making up for lost time. Saliva mingled on their lips and chins, the sounds interspersed with gentle groans. He pulled away again and Eito instinctively leaned forward to chase after him. Takumi once again gently touched the front of the bandage. It was already starting to shadow with blood. “Will you allow me to help you with this? If it’s what you want, if it will help you, I don’t mind.”
Eito nodded. “I would really appreciate it. Even if you just sat with me while I did it, in case I pass out again, that would be enough.”
“No,” Takumi said. “That’s not enough for me. I trust you can walk me through it.”
“I can,” Eito said, squeezing Takumi’s hand. “I should still have all the supplies in my quarters as well.”
Takumi undid the restraints, methodically unbuckling the leather straps holding Eito to the bed. He helped him sit up fully, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
Eito’s head swam from the positional change. He could only assume it was partially related to blood loss, as well. As he stood he was acutely aware of his nudity under the hospital gown. “Did you strip me?” he asked Takumi, amused. “Washed me up and dressed me in a hospital gown like a doll?”
“You were already mostly naked,” Takumi said defensively. “And you were covered in blood and other drainage. It looked uncomfortable.”
“Ah, Ugly Takumi has seen me nude while I was unconscious. How disgusting,” Eito said, enjoying the way it made Takumi squirm. “Did you touch me, too?”
Takumi looked at him incredulously. “You haven’t called me ‘Ugly Takumi’ in years.”
“You’re just going to ignore the part where I accused you of molesting me?” Eito asked. He was smiling wide, despite the dull ache of his eye socket.
“Because I would hope it’s obvious I wouldn’t fucking do that,” Takumi said through his teeth. He handed Eito a change of clothes. He didn’t look away as Eito pulled the neat bow behind his neck undone, letting the hospital gown fall down to his shoulders, and then to just above his navel.
Takumi inhaled sharply, his eyes raking up and down Eito’s body.
“Seriously?” Eito said, unimpressed. He pulled on the shirt Takumi gave him and sorted through the pile of clothes for a spare pair of briefs, which he didn’t find. “You forgot to bring me underwear.”
“Shit, sorry, kinda slipped my mind when I found you unconscious on the floor of your room with your eye cut out,” Takumi said. He watched as Eito put on the sweatpants, before pulling aside the hospital gown.
Eito handed the gown to Takumi. “Probably good to have for after this is done. The bandages are going to make it difficult to pull shirts over my head. You never answered me when I asked where we were earlier.”
“Infirmary wing,” Takumi said. “Probably the emptiest it’s ever been. All the medical staff are away right now, and I snuck you in. Didn’t want the others to know about what you did until I talked to you first. It’s in the same building as our quarters, it’s a short trip.”
He opened the door for Eito and then took the lead on the walk back to Eito’s room.
When they got there, the first thing Eito noticed was that the room was spotless. There was no trace of blood or his removed eye. The tarp was folded neatly at the foot of his bed, the box of surgical supplies next to it.
“Did you clean up after me?” Eito asked as he picked up the tarp. “So considerate.”
“It’s not like I could just leave all that there. What if someone came to check on you or ask you something and they found it?” Takumi said.
Eito unfurled the tarp over his bed. He picked up the box and set it on his nightstand. “Thank you. If I’m going to ask you to do this, I can’t expect you to do it on the floor.”
Takumi sat on the edge of the bed hesitantly. His face was so red, almost the same color as his hair.
“But first,” Eito said quietly, his hands stuck in his pockets, “can I kiss you again?”
“Please,” Takumi whined.
That was all the permission Eito needed, and he pushed Takumi onto his back, crawling over top of him. He stared down at him, like he was waiting for him to disappear.
“I always felt so bad for wanting this,” Takumi said. “I felt like I was taking advantage of you every time I thought about…” He cut himself off, biting his lip.
“Thought about what, Takumi?” Eito asked with a grin. “Oh, please enlighten me.”
Takumi narrowed his eyes, and then sighed, resigned. “Sex, or kissing, or anything domestic with you. I always thought you would rather kill yourself than do any of that, so thinking about you fucking me or, or, making out after a battle while we’re still both sweaty and gross, or cooking dinner together… I felt like such a selfish asshole.”
“You’ve thought about me fucking you?”
“Please don’t gloat at me right now,” Takumi said. He reached up, stroking the side of Eito’s face. “But yeah, a lot.”
Eito kissed him, the tarp crinkling with each movement. His hand took Takumi’s away from his face and pinned it above him, much like he had been restrained in the hospital bed.
Takumi made a little noise into his mouth, shock and arousal. He offered his other wrist to Eito, who held that one to the mattress too happily.
“I need you, please, Eito,” Takumi whispered, lips brushing against Eito’s. “Take me.” He wrapped his legs around Eito’s back, pulling him closer, pressing their bodies together. His erection was obvious as he felt Eito’s abs press against it. There was no hiding how desperate for this he was.
It wasn’t like Eito didn’t know how this worked. There was lube in his nightstand for his own, personal reasons, and some written erotica he’d acquired over the years. “Can I undress you?”
“Kinda have to if you want to fuck me,” Takumi said. Eito released his wrists and Takumi sat up, pulling off his shirt and throwing it to the ground. Eito fiddled with the buckle of Takumi’s belt, trying to ignore how much his hands were shaking. He gave up, shucking the pants down with the belt still on. He pulls off Takumi’s shoes while he’s down there, too.
“Can’t believe you thought it was appropriate to wear shoes on my bed,” Eito said.
Takumi snorted. “There’s a tarp, and besides, I’m going to surgically remove your eyeball after this. Don’t think cleanliness is a priority right now.”
Eito couldn’t argue with that. He opened the drawer and took out the lube. Takumi grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and folded it under his hips, giving Eito a better angle to his entrance. Eito poured lube into his hand.
The man underneath him flinched when the cold lubricant-coated finger ran lightly around his hole, feeling himself contract involuntarily at the touch. When Eito pressed it in, Takumi rolled his head back against the pillow, gasping.
“Have you ever done this before, while you thought about me?” Eito asked, thrusting it in and out slowly.
Takumi nodded, his mouth hanging open. He curled his hand into the tarp.
Eito hummed contentedly. He looked at Takumi’s cock, ignored and hard on his stomach. It was difficult to tell through the distortion of his defect, because there always seemed to be a sheen of mucus or something on the bodies of humans, but he thought Takumi was leaking. He swiped a finger along its length, watching Takumi tremble a little as he did. As he suspected, a string of pre-cum clung to his fingertip when he pulled his hand back. He held it to Takumi’s lips, and he obediently opened his mouth and sucked Eito’s finger clean. Takumi wrinkled his nose at the taste but didn’t say anything else in protest. The way Takumi’s mouth and tongue felt around his finger was obscene in multiple ways - his sharp, unnaturally pointed teeth, the gelatinous squish of his tongue, the unnatural, burning heat of his saliva as he pulled the finger out and wiped it on his thigh.
“I can handle more,” Takumi said. He lifted his hips, pushing himself back on Eito’s finger. “Please…”
Eito pushed a second finger in, feeling Takumi stretch around him, the tight passageway slicked with lube squeezing his fingers. He curled the fingers up, pressing against Takumi’s prostate. Takumi’s cock twitched, and his entire body shook.
“Fuck, Eito!” Takumi cried, writhing. “That feels so good.”
I wonder how many times he’s said that while masturbating to the thought of me, Eito thought. Hearing Takumi say his first name like that again, after so long of only being ‘Aotsuki’, was making him feel more intoxicated than any amount of alcohol he’d ever consumed. He wanted to hear more of it. Eito pulled his fingers out slightly, squeezed more lube onto them, and pushed back in with his ring finger too.
Takumi moaned. “I - I need you to -” His voice was choked, clearly struggling to put together any coherent plea.
He didn’t need to. Eito knew what he really wanted, even if it didn’t seem like he’d done enough prep. If Takumi said he was ready, he was going to take him at his word. He withdrew his fingers, and Takumi made a pathetic sound at the loss.
Eito stripped himself of his pants, remembering at this point that he wasn’t wearing briefs. Takumi had, potentially too conveniently, forgotten those. After a moment of consideration, he took off his shirt too. Takumi’s eyes bored holes into him, and he watched the man on his bed reach down and idly stroke his dick.
“You like my body that much?” Eito asked in disbelief.
Takumi wet his lips, not saying anything.
Eito resumed his position between Takumi’s legs. He lined up his cock, the head of it pressing against Takumi’s entrance in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
“You’ve wanted this too,” Takumi said. “I can feel it.” He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows, and his voice lowered to a growl. “So take me .”
Eito pushed in.
He’d never fucked anything other than his fist, and he never could’ve guessed just how much better actual sex would be. It was all he could do to lean forward, burying his face in Takumi’s hair as he slid his entire length inside.
Takumi was shaking violently, his breath coming in little desperate pants. “God, Eito, y- you,” he stammered, unable to even finish his sentence.
“You’re tired of being a leader, right? Tired of thinking? You don’t have to do that right now. I can do all the thinking for both of us,” Eito whispered, rocking his hips gently. “Although, I have to wonder what everyone else would think, seeing their precious General Sumino being fucked by his advisor.”
“Hah,” Takumi laughed, but it came out as more of a gasp as Eito fucked into him just a little harder.
Eito pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m serious. They’d all probably think I forced myself on you. When I’ve got you pinned under me like this and you’re making those kinds of sounds, it’s a reasonable assumption. But you’d like it if I had my way with you, wouldn’t you? That way someone else would be in control and making all the decisions. I could be as rough with you as I wanted.”
“Please,” Takumi moaned.
“Please, what?” Eito asked. It wasn’t even with the intention of degradation. He didn’t know what Takumi could be asking for.
“Be rougher,” Takumi said, and he guided one of Eito’s hands to his neck.
Eito froze for a moment. Choking Takumi had been one of his fantasies, a long time ago. As he got older and matured, and his feelings towards Takumi softened, that was a less common feature of his wet dreams. They’d started to veer towards romantic, gentle sex, and entirely consensual kinks.
He wrapped his fingers around Takumi’s throat and squeezed, digging into the arteries at the sides. Takumi’s eyes widened, a deranged smile crossing his face. He grabbed hold of Eito’s wrist, holding him firmly in place. Eito fucked him faster, feeling Takumi clench down around him.
Surely he’s not…
“Are you close already?” Eito asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Takumi looked away. “Maybe,” he wheezed, embarrassed.
Eito took Takumi’s cock in his hand, rubbing his thumb along the underside of the head and over the dripping slit.
“Fuck,” Takumi cursed. His decaying skin seemed to be turning an interesting shade of purple, so Eito squeezed harder. Takumi moaned Eito’s name - Eito, not Aotsuki - and came, spilling over Eito’s bare hand.
Eito let go of both his neck and his dick, but not pulling out. He was shocked Takumi came before him. He’d always anticipated he would come first, in the hypothetical ‘first time’ scenario he’d created.
“That’s… humiliating,” Takumi said in his hoarse voice. “Shit, I barely lasted five minutes with you inside me. Feel like a fucking teenager.” He sat up and scratched the side of his face. “I have an idea though. Will you humor me?”
Eito pulled out of him, watching Takumi wince as his cock moved over his overstimulated prostate. “Sure…”
Takumi got off the bed, using his discarded shirt to wipe his spend off his stomach. He put the pillow that had been under his hips back at the head of the bed. “Here, lean against the headboard.”
“What are you doing?” Eito asked as Takumi grabbed the surgery kit. He leaned back, still achingly hard.
“You’re the smarter of us,” Takumi said. He once again straddled Eito’s lap, slowly lowering himself back down on Eito’s cock. “So tell me if I’m wrong. But I remember hearing that the endorphins from sex are helpful for pain.”
There was a protracted period of silence as Eito processed what Takumi’d said. “You’re going to ride me while you take out my other eye?”
“Well, no,” Takumi said, and he pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. “I’ll just have you inside me. I think this work is too delicate for me to be moving like that.”
Eito stared at him. “That’s insane, Takumi.”
The man on top of him uncapped the needle of the anesthetic. “This whole thing is already insane. So just tell me what to do.”
“Okay. You’re going to put the needle slightly to the side of the center of my eye, on the lower lid,” Eito said. He’d done this in practice to himself once, and a handful of times to prisoners, but he’d never had to explain it to someone else. His stomach churned a little - the success of this plan was, suddenly, entirely in Takumi’s hands.
He felt the needle poke him slightly as Takumi set it against his skin. “Here?”
“Yeah, that should be correct,” Eito said. “Now advance the needle.” He could hear Takumi swallow and then felt a piercing pain. He felt a familiar pop that meant the needle had entered the space behind his eye.
“I felt something, did I do it wrong?” Takumi blurted before Eito could reassure him that was expected.
“No, that’s supposed to happen,” Eito said gently. “Just don’t push it in any further, and push the plunger down on the syringe until all the medication is gone, and then pull the needle straight back out.”
Eito could feel the pressure behind his eye as Takumi obeyed. It hurt, and he felt his eyes start to tear up involuntarily. He couldn’t move his eye anymore, but Takumi’s concerned and vaguely nauseated face occupied his entire, remaining field of view. He could feel the needle slide back out, and Takumi set it down somewhere out of sight.
“What now?” Takumi asked. He sounded out of breath, and Eito couldn’t be sure if it was from the procedure he was performing, or from the fact that Eito’s cock was inside him.
“We wait, about five minutes, give or take,” Eito said. He reached out, running his hands along Takumi’s body.
Takumi kissed him, moving himself up and down slightly on his cock. Eito moaned into his mouth.
“Fuck, Takumi, you’re so tight,” Eito muttered. He grabbed Takumi’s hips, holding him hard enough to leave bruises. He thrusted up, burying himself repeatedly into Takumi’s heat at a leisurely pace. Eito could feel some blood drip down his face from where the needle had punctured him. “I’ve waited for this for so long…”
He held Takumi close to his chest and fucked him gently. Takumi made occasional noises of discomfort, probably still overstimulated, but he never complained or asked Eito to stop. Eito felt lips press against his neck and he almost came on the spot. His neck was usually covered - he hadn’t considered that it would be such an erogenous zone for him. He thought back, briefly, to some of the written erotica he’d read over the years, and remembered that some of them did mention neck-kissing as something people enjoyed.
They also mentioned, he remembered, neck biting : love bites, hickeys, whatever word they used. Which gave him an idea. He moved his hand from Takumi’s hip and trailed it up, along his abdomen and chest, along his throat, and palmed the entirety of Takumi’s face in his hand.
“Eito, what the hell -” Takumi mumbled into his palm.
With that landmark established, it was easy to find the side of Takumi’s neck. He kissed it gently at first, before taking some of the soft skin between his teeth and biting down. Takumi keened and Eito could feel his hot breath against his hand. Eito sucked bruises into any of his neck he could reach, until Takumi pulled away with an indignant expression.
“Kamyuhn will never let me live it down if I show up to meetings covered in hickeys, Eito. Have some restraint, we’re grown men,” Takumi said.
Eito blushed. He supposed it was rather childish to feel the need to mark Takumi up like that. He retreated, clearing his throat. “I think it’s been more than five minutes.”
“Ready?” Takumi asked.
“As I’ll ever be. Next, you need the enucleation scissors. They’re the little silver ones with the curved tip. There should still be a pair in an autoclave bag, so take those since they’re sterile,” Eito said. The unease was back. After this, there wouldn’t be any turning back. He hadn’t considered turning back as an option until this point. The cause of his second thoughts was sitting on his lap.
Takumi held up an autoclave bag in front of Eito’s remaining eye. “Is this it?”
Eito nodded, steeling his resolve. He’d spent a year planning this. He knew it was what he had to do. And at least, now, he had Takumi to help him. “That’s correct. Open the package at the handle end and avoid touching the curved end.”
He heard Takumi rip the package and pull the scissors out.
“So do I just… scoop it out?” Takumi asked. His voice was quavering with anxiety.
“No, there’s muscles you need to cut first, around the outside of the eye. Then you’ll have to push the scissors further in, sever the optic nerve, and then you can scoop,” Eito said. It felt bizarre to describe this so matter-of-factly, but he knew if he showed any nerves, Takumi would be able to tell. “Oh, before you do this, have the pressure dressing ready. It’ll start bleeding as soon as you cut the muscles.”
Takumi dug in the surgery kit for another moment. He set the gauze down.
“I can position the scissors for you,” Eito offered.
“No,” Takumi said firmly. “I can do it.” He didn’t sound convincing to Eito.
Eito exhaled through his nose. “Okay. Just open it slightly, and slide it between the white of my eye and the eyelid. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt me, I can’t feel it.” He could hear the hinge on the scissors squeak just slightly as Takumi opened them.
There was a slight pressure as Takumi did as Eito instructed.
“There’s four muscles you need to cut,” Eito continued. “If you imagine a clock - they’re at midnight, three, six, and nine. If I had any interest in prosthetics this would be more complicated as we’d need to preserve those muscles, but thankfully those don’t interest me that much.” He took a deep breath again, knowing he was rambling from anxiety. “Just glide the scissors around, and when you meet resistance, cut.”
“I can do it,” Takumi repeated. Eito felt the pressure return, and the sound of the scissors closing on muscle, one, two, three, four times in quick succession.
Eito felt blood pour down the side of his face again. “You’re doing good, Takumi,” he said softly. “You’re doing the right thing.”
Takumi didn’t say anything.
“Just the nerve left to cut,” Eito said. “This one will hurt a bit and I might scream. It’s not your fault.” Through his blurry, blood-stained remaining vision, he looked at Takumi for the last time. He felt his cock twitch as he stared at his face. Takumi was clenching down on him again, almost impossibly tight.
Two things happened at the same time.
Takumi severed his optic nerve and his world was plunged into wonderful, welcoming darkness.
And, he gave a final thrust up into Takumi and came inside of him, filling him up with his release, yelling from a combination of pain and pleasure..
“What the fuck - did you just..?” Takumi said, horrified. Eito felt pressure inside his eyesocket as Takumi scooped the eyeball and segment of optic nerve out, and Eito heard it land against the tarp with a splat.
Eito was breathing heavily. His entire body was twitching with violent aftershocks. “The pressure dressing, please, Takumi.”
He felt gloved hands prod at his face, sealing the dressing into place. The flow of blood down his face and chest slowed. Takumi got off of him and off the bed entirely.
“I’m getting a few wash rags so we can clean up,” Takumi called from the other side of the room.
Eito took the time to catch his breath. Everything that had happened over the last hour or so felt surreal. He heard the tarp crinkle as Takumi crawled back on the bed. A warm, wet cloth touched his face, gently wiping away the blood. It continued downward and washed his chest. A couple hesitant wipes around his groin followed.
“You’ve effectively waived any right to call me ‘disgusting’ from now on with that little stunt, you realize that, correct?” Takumi said after a while.
“Hm,” Eito hummed, tilting his head. “What about ‘perverted’? It was your idea to cockwarm me while you performed the enucleation, after all.” He could almost feel Takumi flinch when he said the word ‘cockwarm’, which made him smile. He supposed Takumi had seen him as some sexless ingénue for many years. It was almost amusing to consider, in hypothetical, a situation where he showed Takumi the miscellaneous erotica he’d collected. Not that it’s of any use to me at this point , Eito thought, before dismissing that as an incredibly silly thing to worry about at the moment. His porn habits were a far less pressing concern. “Oh, Takumi. You’ve implicated yourself in this now. Why don’t you join me on my sabbatical? I was intending to recover by myself, but you might as well help me at this point.”
Takumi sighed. “I guess I can ask Kamyuhn if she’d be okay with that…”
Eito reached in front of him, grabbing Takumi and pulling him close again, pressing a kiss to some part of his face - he wasn’t entirely sure where. “Just tell her you’re making up for lost time.”