Work Text:
His fingers ached as a constant reminder of his forced devotion to his piano. His thighs and wrists stung as a reminder of its results. Even at a young age, his hands were in a constant state of being sore and blistered from the ceaseless practice, and by the age of 13, he had learned that cutting open his fair, unblemished skin was a way to escape the harshness of his situation, if only quelling the upset for a while. It was difficult to balance it all- ‘it all’ being his life- with school, the high grades that came with that, piano and the pressure that coincided, family expectations and the dry social life. What else was Touya supposed to do? He knew in his heart that the wounds didn’t matter a damn. They would only be a hassle and a problem for anyone else who got involved, and even if he was caught, he had reckoned no one would particularly care for anything but their own image. ‘They’ said vaguely; for he knew exactly who and why they would be upset: his parents, and their sparkling reputations.
So, Touya hid it.
Beneath his sleeves, beneath his trousers, under bandages and under plasters. At some point, when he was hardly 15, he had run out of space on his arms and thighs and needed to let some areas heal before slashing them again, so he had turned to slicing up his stomach, soft and unmarred. By that age, he had figured out a cycle that worked when he needed it. He'd practice his piano for 4 hours in the morning, have lunch, practice for a few more hours, study, then cut if he needed to (which he very often did) in the evenings when he was changing into his pajamas. It was repetitive. It was comforting.
His ‘routine’ stayed such for a decent while. He only ever refrained from cutting if his skin was seriously too full, like a canvas with no more room to finish its masterpiece until one layer dries. When his blood seeped onto the carefully placed tissues under him, it was like all of his distress and pain seeped out with it, and that sting was a distraction he could pinpoint his focus on instead of the overwhelming pressure around him. It seemed that every day, every painstaking day, his father would become more strict on his piano teaching, and less forgiving of his leniency in practicing. So he, too, became less lenient with his schedule, while the blade became more harsh in its steeled judgement. He began to care less and less for his skin's state over time, as shallow cuts began to waken his nerves less too. His cuts became deep, dangerous, even.
On the day before his sixteenth birthday, the practice had been brutal. His father had reminded him that tomorrow would be no excuse for him to take a break, and that birthday celebrations on a large scale would be a waste of time. He hadn't complained, simply pursed his lips and waited until later to quell his upset. The moment he had finished practice, before his father had even completed his sentence- that he was free to go- he hurried off to his room, and slammed the door behind him. His breathing came out it frantic, restrained puffs. He couldn't be too loud, damnit. He put his hand on his chest, and eventually found it in himself to scurry into his small en suite bathroom. He quickly fell to the floor and blindly rummaged around his cabinet to find what he needed. His small pair of nail-cutting scissors, caked with badly cleaned blood. He didn't waste his time being cautious or careful with his incisions, rather immediately dragging the point of one of the halves across his left thigh. It started bleeding instantly, and he almost sighed. Almost, as it still wasn't enough. He kept cutting different parts, trying to fit as many as he could on the limited space like a game of Tetris. He thought to himself at the time that he would need to stop soon. Surely at some point, there would be an effect if he kept it up at this rate? It didn’t matter right now. He needed this.
Touya's father had come storming up the stairs only a few minutes later, for completely unrelated reasons. He was annoyed with Touya for ‘storming' off earlier, and intended to berate him on it. So, without knocking, he barged into his room, and consecutively, his bathroom after not seeing him in his room.
What he saw, was his only son, bleeding profusely, hands shaking, on some crimson-stained white tiles. Touya looked up at him with a sense of wild anxiousness in his eyes, eyelids twitching with the magnitude of his worry. It took a fair moment for Harumichi to even react, and when he did, it wasn't what was necessary. His lip curled with disgust, and he stepped away rather than getting a closer look at where his son needed more medical attention. It wasn't that he didn't understand. He knew what was going on, yet he didn't want to face it- it would be such a shadow on his record, if anyone found out his only child was… whatever Touya was doing.
“Clean this up…!” He had ordered him,
“And don't you dare let your mother find out! What an embarassment…”
Touya had frozen, and his father took that time to leave the room and lock the bedroom door behind him as punishment.
For the next half an hour, he knelt down on the hard tile, and wiped away any evidence of his struggles. He bandaged up his wounds with shame, and never spoke a word of it to his father or mother again.
That night, he didn't even leave his room for dinner.
The next day, his ‘sweet sixteen’, he could hardly focus. The practice had been long, and no matter how fresh the cream on the cake was, it tasted stale and sour with the memory and reality of the previous evening. The candles, though burning, had seemed cold. The cards felt ingenuine and false. The presents were basic one-size-fits-all teenager gifts. There was no ‘special event’.
══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════
Despite the close call those few years ago, he never really stopped. Never for long periods of time, anyways. It's not like his dad cared enough to check- as long as he managed it, and was never seen to be doing it again, it wouldn't concern or affect his father.
Things were up and down, but lots of things had improved since that time.
He now had his friends, his bandmates to support him, and had given up on classical music, though it tried to haunt him with a vengeance.
He had eventually stopped harming himself as much, but every once and a while, it would float to the surface when his family's water mixed with his oil. It didn't matter, it never had. He just had to keep it private and under control.
That was all fine, he was able to hide it under clothing but… Things got a lot more complicated when you throw a horny ginger variable in.
He felt awful. Akito was dating him now, his best friend, the person he probably cared most about in the whole world, yet he could never give him reasons why he wasn't allowed to see Touya nude or venture anywhere near intimacy. Whenever they were making out, if things got too heated, Touya would call it off out of fear. If Akito's hands happened to stray up his shirt or down his pants, he'd freeze up before batting them away.
It was unfair, and Touya knew it, and Akito… he was so patient. Sure, he got frustrated, but he never ever gave out to Touya or forced anything onto him. He was so good to him, and he couldn't even tell him the truth.
That amongst other things were piling up on him, and time seemed to pass faster by the day- it was like he was getting through the days, but not really living them recently. So many gigs to practice for, his family being away so often, forgetting to make meals for himself.
It was easier to fall back into the habit than it was to leave it be.
Before he even knew it and… he was turning 18 tomorrow, and he had already passed his driving test. It didn't feel that special to think about. Birthdays hadn't felt that way in a long time, and definitely since before that event 2 years ago.
He planned to do nothing. He'd have a normal day, practice some of his solo sections for an upcoming event with VIVID BAD SQUAD, and maybe go on a walk.
Akito, on the other hand, had other ideas.
He showed up the night before his birthday, with a bag slung over his shoulder and a box set of DVDs in his hands, grinning, putting it down on the floor presumptuously, and giving Touya a tight hug.
He used his foot to close the front door behind him, and buried his face in Touya's collar.
“Didn't want you to be all alone before your birthday, idiot.”
He explained, while already pulling away and unpacking his stuff, where Touya still stood shell-shocked. He tried to speak, say how thankful he was, but the words wouldn't come. He eventually managed a weak “Thanks,” and Akito punched his shoulder.
“You're not gonna thank me when you're stuck binge watching a shitload of Marvel movies tonight.”
That eventually brought Touya out of his trance to roll his eyes and smile.
“You know I don't mind Marvel.”
“Yeah, but you know I'm mega into it.”
“So? It makes me happy if you're happy.”
“Ahh, my b-o-y-f-r-i-e-n-d Touya, ever the martyr!!” Akito teased, and emptied out a large bag of snacks.
Touya's jaw dropped.
Popcorn, crisps, all his favourite types of chocolates, lollipops, coffee flavoured mochi (one of his favourite things to eat), custard taiyaki…
Why had he done so much for him? It was crazy! (one may even say its…CR詠ZY.. IM SORRY IM SORRY IMSORRYIMSORRY)
He had told Akito as much, but apparently it didn't matter.
“I'm giving you the best movie night ever, and then we can sleep together in your bed since your parents aren't home!”
He reasoned, and Touya all but flushed at the thoughtful nature of it all. He really did not deserve this sweet boy.
They both easily settled on the couch after heating up the popcorn, and sat in eachother's arms as the first movie began to play. Touya couldn't help but steal glances at his handsome partner throughout the night, the way his jaw moved when he chewed on the sweets, the way his eyelashes batted with every blink… he was captivating, even unknowingly.
At some point during the second movie, both of them had reached for separate things, and clashed arms grabbing for their snacks.
Touya, who was going for the last piece of mochi, presumed Akito was too.
He quickly drew back his hand, and smiled at Akito. “You take it, go on,” he implored him.
Akito, quickly understanding the situation, and adapting even quicker, pretended he was in fact going for the last piece.
“How about we share?” He suggested simply.
Touya shrugged and smiled. Akito returned the gesture, and formed his wicked scheme.
Taking the mochi, he popped the whole thing into his mouth, and Touya was about to open his to make a joke about his biblical gluttony. Silly, silly mistake.
Akito seized his opportunity, and leaned forward to kiss Touya.
Leave it to Touya to freeze up again.
The other boy gently opened his mouth, and used his tongue to press the mochi against Touya's lips, imploring him to take a bit into his mouth.
Touya knew he should find that disgusting but… pinned beneath Akito, who was trying to kiss him passionately while giving him his favorite sweet? He could be spitting in his mouth, and he would probably devour it with the same levels of gusto. After he had finally grown aware of what was going on, he shivered his way out of his state of unmovingness. He started to kiss him back eagerly, tasting the delicious bitterness of the coffee just beyond the reach of his tongue. Akito tried to guard it with the ivory gates to his mouth, but Touya took the initiative to slide his tongue past them, and in doing so, grasping Akito's shoulders as well. He kissed him deeper, deeper, as if he was trying to eat not just the mochi, but Akito himself, making desperate, muffled noises from both the sensation of the kiss, and frustration of not being able to take a bite of the sweet. Eventually, Akito exercised a bit of mercy, and pushed the item into Touya's mouth.
On the receiving end of that, he shuddered and made a quiet noise of satisfaction. He pulled away, giving his partner a parting peck on the lips, but stayed close to him while he savoured the taste of victory. It was rubbery, but gave way with ease under his teeth. He ate in silence for a moment until he swallowed, and was leaning up for another kiss. It was his turn to surprise Akito, catching him off guard. Akito melted into it with a lot more grace than Touya had originally, and persisted with licking his boyfriend's lips for the remnants of the treat. They continued making out for a few more minutes, then mutually pulled away, smiling at each other reverently.
“I love you,” Touya murmured under his breath, and Akito's smile grew. He blushed hard when we went to answer, “I love you too, birthday boy.”
The blue haired boy scoffed in response, pushing his face away a little.
“It's not my birthday yet,” he argued.
Akito looked at the clock. It read 11:23.
“Well, in 40 minutes I'll make sure to say it again when it counts.”
The very implication of that had Touya giddy, elated at the thought of more ‘I love you's and birthday kisses. It wasn’t even his birthday yet, and it was the best he'd ever had. Akito never ceased to make him feel ‘special’ like he had when he was younger.
══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════
By 12 o'clock, Akito was already waiting impatiently for midnight to come, and as it did, he tackled Touya- who was in the middle of changing into his pajamas- onto the bed.
Grinning down at him, he kissed everywhere he could manage on his face lightly, between each one whispering “I love you”.
Touya, unable to halt the barrage of affection, simply allowed himself be loved like this, open, sudden and unplanned. He allowed every kiss, and despite himself, began to smile right back up at him. When Akito had finally detached from Touya's pale skin, he sat straddling the lithe waist beneath him. Each boy, despite not knowing it, was breathing heavily and quickly.
“Happy birthday, Touya,” Akito breathed out softly, and Touya leaned up to cup his face with his fingertips. His skin was soft, with occasional bumps where old acne scars had long healed. He was perfect.
After staying like that for a long while, the air became thick with tension. So much so, that it was almost physical in nature. Touya, nervous that they may plunge into the depths of doing something stupid and ‘in-the-moment’, slipped out from under the vice of his partner's hips and away to the bathroom. He didn't lock it.
He called out shakily that he was just going to brush his teeth, but ended up simply staring himself down in the mirror.
This is how things always went. He and Akito would share moments like these, intimate ones, where they couldn't get enough of each other and suddenly… Touya had to force himself to dip out. He hated it. He hated the fact that it was always his fault.
He wanted to be with Akito in that way. There was no doubt in saying that, and maybe someday he wouldn't mind showing him his scars, but now- and whenever they were on the cusp of having sex- was never a time that he wanted to go through the whole ‘talk' about them. Nor would he ever want to worry his partner. He was stuck in that endless loop of stressing over it, cutting again because he was distressed, then being distressed over those cuts- he would never get to have Akito if things kept going this way!
He tried to forget about it, but it was all too much. Tonight, it would have been goddamn perfect, if it weren't for the thought of his damn scars. He also tried to ignore the tell-tale itching of his skin everywhere that he hadn't already cut. He couldn't; not tonight, no! Everything had been going so well, yet he had to go and screw things up with those scars his father had shamed him for. He was right to have told Touya to cover them up- to not tell anyone. Look at all the pain it caused, and all the joy it denied him, yet he pathetically couldn’t make himself stop.
He couldn't help it.
He reached blindly for it, the same pair of clipping scissors that had wounded him since he was 14, and he quickly discarded his sleep shirt. Dragging it wildly across the skin of his stomach, for nowhere else was healed enough to open again, it bled onto the floor and his hands. Was there more than usual, the blood? Looked like it. It didn't matter, all he had to do was clean it up and hide it like he always did. Eventually, his hands were soaked in his own blood and he accidentally dropped the scissors due to the lack of grip. He decided that was enough, but wasn't ready to clean up quite yet. He sat, breathing shaky, on the floor of crimson, and thought in a panic what he had just done. Again. Was he so desperate that he couldn't even wait for Akito to go home? The cleaning and bandaging would take a long time, and he was sure his boyfriend needed to use the en suite to get ready for bed. His arms shook, so he drew them close to his chest. He just had to breathe- he had done this a million times before- he had to take his time, do this methodically, and it would be quicker overall.
Oh, but nothing could ever be that simple.
Akito, needing to brush his teeth, didn’t bother knocking, for he knew Touya too was brushing his. Privacy was never a major thing for them as a couple, or as friends for that matter.
Imagine his horror and nausea, when he was met with the image of his partner, his best friend, sopping wet with his own blood. On the floor, on his shirt, on his stomach and his hands.
Touya looked up to him with a sort of dazed shock in his eyes, and startled backwards.
Not again.
He saw the tall figure over him, looking down, seeing him covered in blood with the tool beside him. He heard the way he spat at him to clean it up and hide it from everyone else.
He was automatically answering, scrambling to grab some bandages and wipes.
“I-I was cleaning up. I'm sorry, for the blood, I–”
“You idiot!” a voice that wasn't his father's cried out, and the person dropped to their knees. Touya flinched backwards, but finally got a good look at him. Akito. His boyfriend. His partner. The one he had wanted least to find him like this, god, the shame was unbearable.
“Why are you sorry??” He questioned, voice shaking as he rushed to embrace him, fear coursing through every part of him.
“Touya, Touya- shit. It's all okay, I'M sorry, I should've… should've seen,” He stuttered, and Touya felt guilt wash over him. Look at all the pain he had caused, just like he knew it would. “N-no, Akito, I should've… I should've talked to you, or, something like that-” He countered, and even though he knew he never would've talked to him any time in the near future, he had to try and shift the blame onto himself, because he knew he could take it. “Don't you dare,” Akito hissed, “Don't you dare blame yourself for being sad. Absolute idiot- are you stupid? I love you. I care for you, and it's… it's part of my job to check in on you.”
The boy, still bleeding, fell silent, as did Akito.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered once more, and he was met with shaky hands trailing up his chest and tangling in his hair.
“It's alright.. Well- it's not- but… we need to sort this out. We need to clean you up and bandage the cuts.”
Akito tried to remain calm, but he felt sick to his stomach. All of his senses were being assaulted by reality. The sight of his friend covered in blood and trembling, the sound of his uneven breathing and the bathroom fan, the feel of his own feet on the blood-slicked tiles, the iron taste in the air and the stench of it all invading his nose no matter how hard he tried to block it out. He had to be strong and reasonable (though ‘reasonable’ wasn't a word very good for describing him as a person) for Touya's sake.
He needed to focus on the task at hand. Cleaning his cuts up, and getting him bandaged. Only problem was…
“Wait, Touya, where are… where are the actual cuts?”
Touya, like a shy faun, slowly unfurled his tight body and showed off his abdomen.
Akito couldn't hold back the vomit this time, and lunged for the toilet to avoid getting it anywhere near his friend.
Touya recoiled at the sight, and curled back in on himself, upset that he had caused that.
Akito, despite the fact he was disturbed by the sight, shook his head and turned back to face him.
“No, no,” he commanded hoarsely, and reached for Touya's hands that now covered the offending area. Although he bit back gagging at the sight again, he needed to take care of it, before things got even worse.
His skin was mutilated. Slashes and cuts mixed to form a macabre, abstract piece of art, and red stained his ivory skin. Every part of him that Akito had memorised, his moles, his small bumps and birthmarks, were drowned out by the violent hue.
This wasn't about him. He needed to persevere and clean up. Wipes and cloth wouldn't suffice, no, he would need to convince him to willingly get into the shower and wash the excess blood away. He wrapped him in his arms again, and placed his face into the crook of his neck. His pulse was fluttering and hammering anxiously, like it was trying to leave his body. Not today.
“Touya, you don't have to clean all of this up. I need you to get into the shower, alright? I need you to wash all of the cuts, and make sure they're clean. I'm going to stay with you though- I…”
He didn’t want to admit that he was afraid of Touya doing it again while left unsupervised, and he didn't have to. Touya understood, and nodded weakly.
He tried to stand, but his limbs felt like jelly, unmoving and wobbly. Akito, sensing this, lifted him into his arms, much to his surprise. Akito himself was surprised, as contrary to his looks, he was a decent weight to haul. That always made him happy, as it just showed that he ate well.
He carried him to the main bathroom of the house, which contained the sectioned-off shower room. He drew the dividers over and turned on the shower.
He began to slowly and carefully remove his partner's clothing (which was really just a pair of pants and underwear), as he made it clear he could stop him if he pleased. He didn't, however, so Akito took that as his sign to keep going.
He pulled over one of the shower stools, and placed Touya on it. “Stay there,” he instructed gently, while he began to shuck his own nightwear which was to his dismay, covered in blood as well.
He stepped under the spray of the shower, and sat on the second stool, drawing it close to Touya. It was sort of weird. He had constantly imagined his first time seeing Touya naked as something to do with their first time, but now, seeing him so vulnerable, and in this situation, he couldn't even stomach that thought. The other boy seemed to feel the same about Akito, and it wasn't to be blamed on him after what he had just been through- now, and for god knows how long.
“Touya,” he mumbled against his shoulder, “Can you show me? I need to clean them.”
He implored softly, as if he was speaking to a scared animal. The other boy hesitated, but opened his posture to bare his mangled abdomen for him.
Swallowing dryly, Akito used his hands and just the water to slowly and lightly rub the cuts, watching with melancholy as the red diluted into the stream and down the drain.
They stayed like that for a while, the silence stretching, but safe and comforting. It took a decent amount of time to remove the stairs of the red from his skin, and to wash away most of the major bleeding. By the time each of them were willing to get out of the haven of water, at least 40 minutes had passed.
Akito turned off the water, and stepped out into the shower room. Shivering with the cold, he grabbed a towel from the basket and cast it over the other boy's shoulders. Touya shakily joined him in leaving the shower, and began to dry his hair a little, and gave a bit of an attempt to dry his body. Akito also dried his body, and with disgust, placed his dirty clothes in the laundry. He wrapped his towel around his waist, and Touya did the same, following him to leave the shower room and into the main bathroom once more. Akito put an arm around his middle comfortingly, mindful to watch the gashes, and guided him back to his room, turning off the bathroom light as they went.
The rest of the night was a bit of a blur.
Akito had helped bandage him up, and made sure he was in bed before going to clean up the mess in the en suite. He had gotten Touya a t-shirt from his drawers to throw over the bandages to cover the overwhelming sight of it all (for his AND Akito's sake), and a pair of fresh underpants. For himself, he just stole a pair of Touya's underwear, as he wasn't bothered to deal with anything more.
Eventually they had ended up in bed, skin pressed with warmth to one another, and Akito whispering ‘I love you’ every few minutes. Touya said it back each time, and cuddled closer to the warmth of his chest. What heavenly good had he done in the past life to deserve such a caring, understanding partner? He didn't even know if he DID deserve him.
It didn’t matter now though. All that did, was the breath they shared, and the safety of the sheets that shielded them.
In some weird, roundabout way… this had been the best birthday Touya had ever had.