Work Text:
His life's purpose was to serve Jolyne. This much he knew. Anything Anasui could do to make her happy would be worth it. He was hers, and only hers, entirely. All his thoughts were meant to be of her, all his love meant to be hers. Anything, anything, to make Jolyne happy, he would do.
Which is why when she hesitantly told him she had a crush on Ermes, Anasui did not feel heartbroken for more than an instant before being filled with determination. Jolyne was in love, and that was something to be celebrated. He began stepping away when they were together, offering to do things they needed done so they could spend more time together, easily giving a good word to Ermes, generally doing everything he could to make that become a thing, to make them be together, to let Jolyne be happy. It was hard not to profess his love at any given moment to Jolyne herself, so he naturally turned to Weather Report.
It only started with him pitying himself, wondering why she would never return his affections, to get a quiet word of support or hear nothing at all. It became Anasui frantically reciting plans, schemes, ways to get Ermes to love her, ways for them to be together, only to be told “you can’t force love.”
When Ermes finally--finally--admitted she returned Jolyne’s affections, Anasui was more enthused than the couple themselves. In his mind, he had quite successfully forced love, and played a major role in their relationship, and as such, Jolyne’s happiness. And it was quite triumphantly that he told Weather Report this, that he was wrong and that love could be made to happen, only to have Weather Report ghost a smile and shake his head ever so slightly.
Their conversations turned to Anasui gushing over both of them, how happy he was for them, how he wouldn’t hesitate to end Ermes’s life if she dared to hurt his Jolyne.
“You act as though you own her,” Weather said once.
“I could never dream of such a thing,” he responded, thoroughly insulted. “If anything, she owns me!”
So it seemed, for most of the time since he had met her, until Anasui was laying in Emporio’s room, watching Weather Report read, when he noticed something that had perhaps been ignored. Surely, it was not a burning, undying passion like he felt for Jolyne, but there was something about the way Weather Report stood, something about his almost-smiles, his air of mystery and confidence, his late night thoughts shared only with Anasui, the way he had been opening up about his insecurities about who he might have been...
It was certainly something, and something Anasui was afraid to name.
There was no denying it. His heart had been stolen by not one, but two.
Polyamory was a thing, a thing Anasui knew of and was inclined to support. It just simply wasn’t for him. Jolyne was supposed to be his everything. How could he, someone destined to serve Jolyne, ever love anyone else? How could he betray her in such a way? For anyone else, it would not be even the slightest of problems, but for Anasui, loving anyone but her was an unforgivable crime. It was a flaw, it was a sin, and most importantly, it was something that had to be taken apart.
So take it apart he did.
He had known him longer. He confided in him more than Jolyne. He spent more time with him. He had seen him sleeping. He always knew what Weather Report thought of him, while sometimes he was sure Jolyne hated him. By all reasoning, it was perfectly logical to be in love with Weather Report.
Still, it disgusted him. There was nothing Anasui hated about himself more than how he dreamed of blue eyes instead of green, how he wanted to protect Weather Report just as much as her, how he wanted to explore every inch of his body and look into those perfect eyes and promise him that no matter who he was before Anasui would still love him all the same.
Calling it love made it worse.
And so he lay awake, seething with anger he could only direct at himself, trying to hear Weather Report breathing on the bunk above him, trying to ignore the wishes that he was up there tangled up in blankets and legs and feeling those quiet breaths on his neck. And if Jolyne could be there, even better.
Jolyne. Every warm thought of Weather Report was betraying her. He knew, deep down, that she would want him to move on and be happy, that she was not and never would be interested, and that she would try to get them together as he had with her and Ermes, but the guilt was too strong. He could never bring this to her, he could never let her know that his loyalty had become divided. It was easier, knowing that she and Weather Report were friends, and he would never hurt her, but it was still an absolute betrayal. What made it worse, Anasui had vowed to never keep secrets from her, to be completely open with her.
Focusing on their future together didn’t help. He would always be a third wheel with Ermes and Jolyne, no matter how vivid his daydreams of marrying Jolyne became. Spending time with them didn’t help, as always, always, when they were walking ahead of him, and he was content to follow, he fell into step with Weather Report, and Anasui wanted to stay beside him instead of fight for his right to be beside the one he’d die for.
And maybe it wasn’t like Jolyne, exactly, and maybe the fact it wasn’t some extreme enthusiasm and excitement made it worse. Could he not love Weather Report right? Was it Jolyne he didn’t love right? And either way, both deserved better, neither deserved to be with some murderer. They could do better, far better, and Jolyne certainly was with Ermes. It was bad of him to want them to so much as spare him a second glance, much less love him. It was even worse when he realized that his affection towards Weather Report had grown, that his anxious, fluttery love was as strong as the intense, burning loyalty. He was terrified of forgetting his purpose, and could not shake the feeling what he was feeling was fundamentally wrong.
It was wrong, but Anasui couldn’t stop himself from staring at Weather Report’s lips. It was wrong, but Anasui couldn’t stop himself from letting their hands brush together far too often to be an accident. It was wrong, but Anasui couldn’t stop himself from stuttering, from getting flustered when Weather Report sat next to him, from blushing when he was hugged for more than a few seconds, from melting when he heard his voice.
It was wrong, but Anasui didn’t try to stop Weather Report from cornering him and asking, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were in love with me.”
It was wrong, but Anasui didn’t try to stop himself from saying, “I am.”
It was wrong, but Anasui didn’t try to stop Weather Report from kissing him, softly, tenderly.
It was wrong when he woke up, touching his lips, choking back sobs so as not to wake the one he dreamed of.
Wrong, wrong and disgusting.