It's late. Too late. Half pass midnight. When he was younger, when he wasn't living with Hayato that wouldn't have meant anything.
But it did now. Hayato wasn't going to be pleased.
Mitsumune prayed that his boyfriend had already gone to sleep. It was the only thing that let him – gave him the courage to unlock the door. Slowly, he moves the door back and steps in. The lights were off. The door to their room was closed.
Hayato was asleep.
He lets out a sigh of relief and places his bag over a chair, shrugging off his hat off. He just needed to get in bed with him, act like everything was fine and convince him it wasn't that late. He might need to make sure Hayato doesn't check on his phone but–
"Where have you been, Mitsumune?"
He stops. His movements cease and his hands slowly fall down to his sides as he holds on to his hat. The lamp near their sofa is turned on while he gazes at the shadow lurking besides it.
Hayato sat on it, arms crossed, leg over another – a frown on his handsome, lean face.
He looked angry.
"H-Hayato...I thought you were asleep." Mitsumune tries to hide the fear in his voice, swallowing his nervousness down in a shallow gulp. Shit, his hands were sweating. He was shaking. Hayato was angry. Hayato was angry.
"How could I sleep when you hadn't come home until now." His voice is calm as always, with narrowed eyes in question.
Nails dig into his palm. His teeth clench against each other. His knees start trembling. Mitsumune couldn't hide his panic against him.
Scars from the last time Hayato had gotten angry were still hot over his back.
"I'm sorry, Hayato. You should go to sleep now, I'll be there in a second..." Explaining was futile with Hayato. He cuts him off immediately.
"What were you doing?"
His body tenses. Hayato is using that tone, the one he used when he wasn't pleased. When he was disappointed. When Hayato wanted to show Mitsumune who he belonged to.
"I was...drinking with some friends." There's no use lying, not against him. Hayato would find out eventually.
"You're still thinking about that Masaki girl?"
Mitsumune tenses. His arms go down, scared, afraid; knowing what that crack in his voice meant.
"You go out drinking because you hate me. You still love Masaki."
That was years ago, they had been children. Did Hayato truly worry about this so much? Were his thoughts always on that trip to that village years ago?
Even after Mitsumune promised to stay with him, that they could date; Hayato still thought Mitsumune loved Masaki?
He thought he had, but he's not sure if he does or if he truly did. It just seemed like a school boy crush – a teenage fling. Mitsumune realized later that real life, adult life, meant doing what you had to do; not following your feelings. Being with Hayato seemed the right thing to do at the moment.
But Hayato was different. He wasn't the same boy who would protect him from bullies. He was a bully now.
Hayato stands up, menacing and horribly familiar to Mitsumune who was used to it.
This wouldn't end well.
He needed to act, he needed to show Hayato he truly loved him...
The steps get closer, silent and calm until they reach their destination.
I love him. I love him.
But he didn't. And Hayato knows. How could he love a person who hurt him and left marks over his arms. Who told him he couldn't speak to anyone but him. Who didnt let him have friends. Who controlled his every movement.
He lies nonetheless; because to Hayato, lying is better than the truth that inconveniences him.
"Hayato, I love you..." He mutters, even though his hands were shaking in fear.
It seems to work, Hayato seems pleased. His hands move to cup Mitsumune's redenning cheeks; from the heat, from embarrasment, from Hayato's attention.
"You love me? Really? Then why don't you ever listen to me?"
Because I'm afraid. Because you're not who you used to be. The boy I looked up to. The boy I could call a friend.
He can't answer him because the truth would anger Hayato, and that anger would hurt Mitsumune.
So he stays quiet, and lets Hayato grab his hands and lead him into their room.
The door closes and Mitsumune is thrown against the bed. Dreadful silence fills the room as Hayato sneaks a hand over his shirt, cold fingers touching his chest.
He can't complain that he's tired. The foul breath of Mitsumune doesn't stop Hayato from forcefully kissing him.
The touches, the kisses, the hits.
They were all against his will.
But Hayato was all Mitsumune had, and he was all Hayato had as well.
So he accepts his fate and lets him taint his body even longer.
He is forced into his captivity without a choice.