[Uraboku] Inertia
Title: Inertia
Author: masanami
Character(s): Hotsuma/Shusei
Word Count: 2,301
Rating: R
Warnings: Non-explicit sex.
Summary: They may be broken but as long as they keep going they can keep the pieces together.
Author's Note: A birthday present for ravanna ♥ Happy birthday, bb! She wanted something heartbreaking and with arguing. I hope you like it, hun~
Shusei isn’t really sure how it had started, but it’s begun and now Hotsuma’s temper is flaring and there’s spittle flying in his face as angry words are ushered through the solitude of their room.
Hotsuma’s face looks red with effort and Shusei hasn’t blinked an eye at Hotsuma’s outburst and he can tell that’s only making things worse-but giving away to emotion has never been one of his strong points when it’s comes so easily to Hotsuma and that’s something Hotsuma should really understand. He watches the way Hotsuma’s lips move and he knows Hotsuma is trying to break him again but the only thing Shusei feels is tired. He’s learned how to brush aside Hotsuma’s advances with whispered distractions and teases.
“Hotsuma, that’s enough.” He says, arms folding across his uniformed chest.
Tie already abandoned across the couch in their shared living room, Hotsuma pulls off the sweater of his uniform and it joins the other wrinkled cloth on the furniture. He’s pacing across the room, wearing a path in the carpet with his angry steps. Word from Takashiro that Yuki is returning to the mansion has further increased Hotsuma’s agitation lately and Shusei’s tries to not let it show that he’s agitated too-Yuki is a person they may need but there has always been a part of him that seems to drown in resent by his sheer presence. His fingers curl into a fist, nails digging marks into his flesh as Hotsuma finally stops moving and looks at him.
“This won’t fix anything.” Shusei’s watching Hotsuma closely as he speaks, hoping the words drive home. “Yuki is coming back.” Regardless of what either of them feel.
Hotsuma scoffs. “I don’t need him,” he murmurs underneath his breath. Then he looks away, toward the ground and the discarded clothing that he’s removed in his frustration. “It’s not even about that.”
Shusei just looks at him.
“It’s you.” Hotsuma turns and looks at him and there’s fire burning in his eyes. “You’re hurting and you won’t even-“
“I’m fine Hotsu-“
“Bullshit.” Hotsuma spits out. “You’re walking around this house like a zombie. You come home from school and lock yourself in your room or spend hours just gazing at the stars. You’re not yourself.”
“Hotsuma, it’s called homework and we have always enjoyed watching the stars.”
“It’s not the same. I can tell, Shusei. Something’s wrong.” He’s stepping closer now, bridging the gap between them until his hands have latched onto his shoulders and he’s looking down at him as he shakes him. “Why won’t you just talk to me about it? What’s so fucking hard about that?”
Shusei doesn’t say anything.
“It’s Yuki isn’t it? Or is this about the other night-Shusei I said I was sorry about-”
“It’s nothing.”
“Tch.” Hotsuma releases his shoulders with a shove and Shusei takes a step back to balance himself.
Shusei thinks he's going to say something else, but Hotsuma’s hands just bury themselves in the pockets of his pants. He vaguely hears Hotsuma say something about going out before the blonde is walking toward the door and slamming it closed.
He stands there and watches the door close. He just watches.
+ + + +
Maybe he’s dying.
That might explain it all, as if little pieces of his life ebbing away and creating this disaster around him can be blamed as the cause for all these problems. It might explain the loss of appetite, the disinterest in things presented before him-the almost obsessive focus on the only thing that makes him happy. Isn’t that what happens when death is near? Shusei imagines that it’s that way, that when life begins to thrust itself downward in an endless spiral toward the end that things like eating and sleeping have little importance-the only thing that really begins to matter is the one thing that keeps one foot moving in front of the other.
Hotsuma has always-always-been that one thing.
Shusei knows where Hotsuma has gone just like he knows that Hotsuma will return. He won’t follow him because Hotsuma needs his space. And Shusei knows he needs to learn to let go, even if it’s the last thing he wants to do, even if it’s like trying to cling to concrete while being dragged away. He can almost feel the maddening scratch of breaking nails and bleeding fingertips-it’s like that, the thought of being without Hotsuma.
Shusei feels the steam of the bath floating around him, causing droplets of sweat to caress the sides of his face as he closes his eyes. His hair feels sticky and heavy but he can’t find the strength to shake his head free of the water that’s dribbling along his back and shoulders. He doesn’t want to touch himself, to feel the slight difference in texture of his skin-the tightened smoothness of scars on his fingertips.
They make him remember. They make him remember such painful things.
+ + + +
Hotsuma’s mouth is warm as it kisses his abdomen.
Shusei leans his head back against the pillows of the bed, fingers clenching around the sheets and his toes twisting as he tries to keep himself from thrusting his hips upward into the space that Hotsuma preoccupies.
This isn’t the only time they’ve done this but every time Hotsuma touches him it makes Shusei feel like his skin is boiling for the first time over and over again. Hotsuma’s warm mouth penetrates through his cold exterior, slightly moistened lips leaving trails of hot kisses that dance around his belly-button. He can feel the weight of Hotsuma’s chest between his legs where the other boy has crawled over him, spreading him apart, making him vulnerable. Shusei would only allow this one person to do this-to touch him like this, to rip him apart and leave him open like this.
Shusei digs the back of his head into the pillows when Hotsuma begins to unclasp his belt. He bites his lip and wills himself to smother the moans deep in his throat.
Hotsuma tugs his pants down to his ankles and then it’s only a small pull until they’re off. Shusei closes his eyes as he hears the rustle of Hotsuma’s shirt being pulled over his head, of the other boy tossing aside his own clothes. Shusei replaces the clenched fabric of the sheets for the soft feel of his shirt in his palms. This won’t go anywhere and he hugs it to himself like a protective barrier.
He starts to turn around on the bed so that his chest and face are buried in the pillows when Hotsuma stops him.
“No Shusei, I want to see your face.”
We never do it like this.
But Shusei merely nods as Hotsuma climbs over him. Hotsuma’s kiss has a way of making him forget and bend to his will. He loses himself in the warmth of Hotsuma’s tongue and the bite of Hotsuma’s teeth on his lips. Hotsuma spreads his legs further apart and then there’s only the brief burst of pain followed by the warm pleasure of skin against skin.
But tonight Hotsuma is rough.
Shusei can feel Hotsuma’s fingers digging into his skin, hear the frustration in each grunt of effort. Shusei can’t help but feel like this moment is about more than sexual need and desire. Maybe Hotsuma needs to control something, claim someone, to feel like he can control himself.
It’s Yuki.
Shusei can still hear Takshiro’s words in the back of his head, muffled by groans of his partner. Hotsuma’s hair is matted in sweat, clinging to the sides of his face as Shusei’s back arches and his mouth opens in a moan.
Tsukumo and Touko went to meet him. With any luck he’ll be here in a few days. Got it?
Hotsuma hasn’t been the same since then.
+ + + +
Shusei looks across the empty bath and wonders how many times he’s bathed in the isolation of this room. It’s quiet, the water placid and the lights dim like he’s not even there. He wonders how different this place might feel with the vibrancy of other people, with laughter and mirth mingling with the slosh of water. He’s not even sure if he would prefer it over the solitude he has now-
Unless it’s Hotsuma.
Maybe then, maybe then he’d prefer it.
+ + + +
When they’re finished Hotsuma’s leaning over him and breathing heavily. Shusei can feel the hot panting breaths against his neck, the moist heat that warms his skin as his arms circle around Hotsuma’s shoulders. They both take a moment to catch their breath.
Shusei isn’t sure how long they remain like that but by the time Hotsuma’s begun to move the sticky sweat from underneath his shirt has dried. Hotsuma’s still leaning over him and looking down at him when Shusei notices the change in his eyes.
It only takes a second for the shadow to creep over Hotsuma’s eyes, drawing a veil over the soft lines of his partner’s face until Shusei sees nothing but guilt-ridden caverns. He tries to button the loosened clasps of his shirt, but his fingers are fumbling so badly that he just gives up and closes the shirt with his hand-he just needs to hide those scars.
“Hotsuma…”
He’s breaking again. Every time he sees them it breaks him.
Hotsuma gets up and tries to pretend it’s nothing but they both know it’s everything. He mumbles something about taking a bath and Shusei can’t move-not even after Hotsuma’s left and the door closes behind him.
He can barely breathe.
+ + + +
Hotsuma still isn’t back by the time Shusei gets out of the bath.
He sighs, brushing a towel through his hair as he returns to his room. The mansion is painfully quiet and all Shusei wants to do is lay in his bed until he hears the sound of Hotsuma returning. Soon everything will change. Tsukumo and Touko will return with Takashiro and Yuki-and that Duras that always seems to see right through him-and nothing will ever be the same again. Yuki will change everything. He will change Hotsuma and if Hotsuma doesn’t need him anymore…
Too much change…
Discarding the damp towel on the back of a chair, Shusei lays down in his bed. He could still smell the faint scent of soap on his skin as his eyes close. He wonders how long the inertia of their relationship will propel him and Hotsuma forward. Eventually the day will come when something-or someone-steps in their path. Shusei feels his heart clenching, feels it aching so badly because that someone feels far too close to the isolated world that he and Hotsuma have cultivated. Shusei doesn’t know how to live and share Hotsuma at the same time.
What will happen if…?
He sighs as he hears the click of the door opening in the next room. Hotsuma is back and the thought eases his heart more than he knows it should. It’s only a matter of time before Hotsuma moves toward his room and opens the door.
“…Shusei?”
Shusei keeps his eyes closed and pretends to sleep. He doesn’t want to force Hotsuma into his bed even if his body is screaming for the comfort his embrace brings. He wants Hotsuma to do it himself, to still need him as badly as he needs Hotsuma.
The bed gives in with a soft creak as Hotsuma climbs in beside him.
Things are patched together but not repaired-even so Shusei knows their inertia will keep going for a little while longer when Hotsuma’s arms wrap around his waist and his head tucks itself against his chest.
Shusei’s fingers make swirls through Hotsuma’s dyed hair.
“You’re awake?” Hotsuma’s voice is tentative. He’s calmed down enough on his own to find his way back home. He’s found his way back into Shusei’s arms.
“Hm.” Shusei mumbles sleepily. He doesn’t really want to talk, he just wants to feel the embrace that brings warmth to the coldness that surrounds him. Hotsuma’s always been the one thing that can light his world in flames.
“Shusei.” Hotsuma’s arms wrap around him tighter.
Life always has a way of returning back to this place for them. Shusei knows that’s never going to lead to change-that for this lifetime at least the scars that have marred their past are still going to divide and not bridge toward a future he wants. He likes to think that despite all the complaints Hotsuma has voiced that Yuki will make things better-maybe he will finally tear down the walls around them, maybe he’ll always be able to do the things that Shusei has unable to do in this lifetime. It might be fate’s cruel twist that his inadequacies rest where another’s blossom, but there is little else that enters his thoughts when he can feel Hotsuma’s fingers drifting upward underneath his shirt and he has to move them away-move them away before they get too close to those scars.
Sometimes Hotsuma forgets how fragile it’s become between them.
His partner sighs and forgets, brushes aside their earlier argument as he collapses into Shusei's embrace. Shusei holds him and brushes his hair from his forehead and stares up at the ceiling, counting invisible stars. Inertia slips back into his mind and it's driving force propels his thoughts, drifting them along a path where the outcome is still unknown.
Shusei remembers dying. And he still feels like that's the way he's living-clinging so desperately to the things he wants without really showing how his knuckles blanch and whiten in fear of letting go. But he isn't dead yet because Hotsuma is still here and he's warming his cold body and keeping him alive. He'll keep going, riding the inertia of Hotsuma's wave until Hotsuma doesn't need him anymore.
When that time comes...
...inertia will finally run out.
Author: masanami
Character(s): Hotsuma/Shusei
Word Count: 2,301
Rating: R
Warnings: Non-explicit sex.
Summary: They may be broken but as long as they keep going they can keep the pieces together.
Author's Note: A birthday present for ravanna ♥ Happy birthday, bb! She wanted something heartbreaking and with arguing. I hope you like it, hun~
Shusei isn’t really sure how it had started, but it’s begun and now Hotsuma’s temper is flaring and there’s spittle flying in his face as angry words are ushered through the solitude of their room.
Hotsuma’s face looks red with effort and Shusei hasn’t blinked an eye at Hotsuma’s outburst and he can tell that’s only making things worse-but giving away to emotion has never been one of his strong points when it’s comes so easily to Hotsuma and that’s something Hotsuma should really understand. He watches the way Hotsuma’s lips move and he knows Hotsuma is trying to break him again but the only thing Shusei feels is tired. He’s learned how to brush aside Hotsuma’s advances with whispered distractions and teases.
“Hotsuma, that’s enough.” He says, arms folding across his uniformed chest.
Tie already abandoned across the couch in their shared living room, Hotsuma pulls off the sweater of his uniform and it joins the other wrinkled cloth on the furniture. He’s pacing across the room, wearing a path in the carpet with his angry steps. Word from Takashiro that Yuki is returning to the mansion has further increased Hotsuma’s agitation lately and Shusei’s tries to not let it show that he’s agitated too-Yuki is a person they may need but there has always been a part of him that seems to drown in resent by his sheer presence. His fingers curl into a fist, nails digging marks into his flesh as Hotsuma finally stops moving and looks at him.
“This won’t fix anything.” Shusei’s watching Hotsuma closely as he speaks, hoping the words drive home. “Yuki is coming back.” Regardless of what either of them feel.
Hotsuma scoffs. “I don’t need him,” he murmurs underneath his breath. Then he looks away, toward the ground and the discarded clothing that he’s removed in his frustration. “It’s not even about that.”
Shusei just looks at him.
“It’s you.” Hotsuma turns and looks at him and there’s fire burning in his eyes. “You’re hurting and you won’t even-“
“I’m fine Hotsu-“
“Bullshit.” Hotsuma spits out. “You’re walking around this house like a zombie. You come home from school and lock yourself in your room or spend hours just gazing at the stars. You’re not yourself.”
“Hotsuma, it’s called homework and we have always enjoyed watching the stars.”
“It’s not the same. I can tell, Shusei. Something’s wrong.” He’s stepping closer now, bridging the gap between them until his hands have latched onto his shoulders and he’s looking down at him as he shakes him. “Why won’t you just talk to me about it? What’s so fucking hard about that?”
Shusei doesn’t say anything.
“It’s Yuki isn’t it? Or is this about the other night-Shusei I said I was sorry about-”
“It’s nothing.”
“Tch.” Hotsuma releases his shoulders with a shove and Shusei takes a step back to balance himself.
Shusei thinks he's going to say something else, but Hotsuma’s hands just bury themselves in the pockets of his pants. He vaguely hears Hotsuma say something about going out before the blonde is walking toward the door and slamming it closed.
He stands there and watches the door close. He just watches.
+ + + +
Maybe he’s dying.
That might explain it all, as if little pieces of his life ebbing away and creating this disaster around him can be blamed as the cause for all these problems. It might explain the loss of appetite, the disinterest in things presented before him-the almost obsessive focus on the only thing that makes him happy. Isn’t that what happens when death is near? Shusei imagines that it’s that way, that when life begins to thrust itself downward in an endless spiral toward the end that things like eating and sleeping have little importance-the only thing that really begins to matter is the one thing that keeps one foot moving in front of the other.
Hotsuma has always-always-been that one thing.
Shusei knows where Hotsuma has gone just like he knows that Hotsuma will return. He won’t follow him because Hotsuma needs his space. And Shusei knows he needs to learn to let go, even if it’s the last thing he wants to do, even if it’s like trying to cling to concrete while being dragged away. He can almost feel the maddening scratch of breaking nails and bleeding fingertips-it’s like that, the thought of being without Hotsuma.
Shusei feels the steam of the bath floating around him, causing droplets of sweat to caress the sides of his face as he closes his eyes. His hair feels sticky and heavy but he can’t find the strength to shake his head free of the water that’s dribbling along his back and shoulders. He doesn’t want to touch himself, to feel the slight difference in texture of his skin-the tightened smoothness of scars on his fingertips.
They make him remember. They make him remember such painful things.
+ + + +
Hotsuma’s mouth is warm as it kisses his abdomen.
Shusei leans his head back against the pillows of the bed, fingers clenching around the sheets and his toes twisting as he tries to keep himself from thrusting his hips upward into the space that Hotsuma preoccupies.
This isn’t the only time they’ve done this but every time Hotsuma touches him it makes Shusei feel like his skin is boiling for the first time over and over again. Hotsuma’s warm mouth penetrates through his cold exterior, slightly moistened lips leaving trails of hot kisses that dance around his belly-button. He can feel the weight of Hotsuma’s chest between his legs where the other boy has crawled over him, spreading him apart, making him vulnerable. Shusei would only allow this one person to do this-to touch him like this, to rip him apart and leave him open like this.
Shusei digs the back of his head into the pillows when Hotsuma begins to unclasp his belt. He bites his lip and wills himself to smother the moans deep in his throat.
Hotsuma tugs his pants down to his ankles and then it’s only a small pull until they’re off. Shusei closes his eyes as he hears the rustle of Hotsuma’s shirt being pulled over his head, of the other boy tossing aside his own clothes. Shusei replaces the clenched fabric of the sheets for the soft feel of his shirt in his palms. This won’t go anywhere and he hugs it to himself like a protective barrier.
He starts to turn around on the bed so that his chest and face are buried in the pillows when Hotsuma stops him.
“No Shusei, I want to see your face.”
We never do it like this.
But Shusei merely nods as Hotsuma climbs over him. Hotsuma’s kiss has a way of making him forget and bend to his will. He loses himself in the warmth of Hotsuma’s tongue and the bite of Hotsuma’s teeth on his lips. Hotsuma spreads his legs further apart and then there’s only the brief burst of pain followed by the warm pleasure of skin against skin.
But tonight Hotsuma is rough.
Shusei can feel Hotsuma’s fingers digging into his skin, hear the frustration in each grunt of effort. Shusei can’t help but feel like this moment is about more than sexual need and desire. Maybe Hotsuma needs to control something, claim someone, to feel like he can control himself.
It’s Yuki.
Shusei can still hear Takshiro’s words in the back of his head, muffled by groans of his partner. Hotsuma’s hair is matted in sweat, clinging to the sides of his face as Shusei’s back arches and his mouth opens in a moan.
Tsukumo and Touko went to meet him. With any luck he’ll be here in a few days. Got it?
Hotsuma hasn’t been the same since then.
+ + + +
Shusei looks across the empty bath and wonders how many times he’s bathed in the isolation of this room. It’s quiet, the water placid and the lights dim like he’s not even there. He wonders how different this place might feel with the vibrancy of other people, with laughter and mirth mingling with the slosh of water. He’s not even sure if he would prefer it over the solitude he has now-
Unless it’s Hotsuma.
Maybe then, maybe then he’d prefer it.
+ + + +
When they’re finished Hotsuma’s leaning over him and breathing heavily. Shusei can feel the hot panting breaths against his neck, the moist heat that warms his skin as his arms circle around Hotsuma’s shoulders. They both take a moment to catch their breath.
Shusei isn’t sure how long they remain like that but by the time Hotsuma’s begun to move the sticky sweat from underneath his shirt has dried. Hotsuma’s still leaning over him and looking down at him when Shusei notices the change in his eyes.
It only takes a second for the shadow to creep over Hotsuma’s eyes, drawing a veil over the soft lines of his partner’s face until Shusei sees nothing but guilt-ridden caverns. He tries to button the loosened clasps of his shirt, but his fingers are fumbling so badly that he just gives up and closes the shirt with his hand-he just needs to hide those scars.
“Hotsuma…”
He’s breaking again. Every time he sees them it breaks him.
Hotsuma gets up and tries to pretend it’s nothing but they both know it’s everything. He mumbles something about taking a bath and Shusei can’t move-not even after Hotsuma’s left and the door closes behind him.
He can barely breathe.
+ + + +
Hotsuma still isn’t back by the time Shusei gets out of the bath.
He sighs, brushing a towel through his hair as he returns to his room. The mansion is painfully quiet and all Shusei wants to do is lay in his bed until he hears the sound of Hotsuma returning. Soon everything will change. Tsukumo and Touko will return with Takashiro and Yuki-and that Duras that always seems to see right through him-and nothing will ever be the same again. Yuki will change everything. He will change Hotsuma and if Hotsuma doesn’t need him anymore…
Too much change…
Discarding the damp towel on the back of a chair, Shusei lays down in his bed. He could still smell the faint scent of soap on his skin as his eyes close. He wonders how long the inertia of their relationship will propel him and Hotsuma forward. Eventually the day will come when something-or someone-steps in their path. Shusei feels his heart clenching, feels it aching so badly because that someone feels far too close to the isolated world that he and Hotsuma have cultivated. Shusei doesn’t know how to live and share Hotsuma at the same time.
What will happen if…?
He sighs as he hears the click of the door opening in the next room. Hotsuma is back and the thought eases his heart more than he knows it should. It’s only a matter of time before Hotsuma moves toward his room and opens the door.
“…Shusei?”
Shusei keeps his eyes closed and pretends to sleep. He doesn’t want to force Hotsuma into his bed even if his body is screaming for the comfort his embrace brings. He wants Hotsuma to do it himself, to still need him as badly as he needs Hotsuma.
The bed gives in with a soft creak as Hotsuma climbs in beside him.
Things are patched together but not repaired-even so Shusei knows their inertia will keep going for a little while longer when Hotsuma’s arms wrap around his waist and his head tucks itself against his chest.
Shusei’s fingers make swirls through Hotsuma’s dyed hair.
“You’re awake?” Hotsuma’s voice is tentative. He’s calmed down enough on his own to find his way back home. He’s found his way back into Shusei’s arms.
“Hm.” Shusei mumbles sleepily. He doesn’t really want to talk, he just wants to feel the embrace that brings warmth to the coldness that surrounds him. Hotsuma’s always been the one thing that can light his world in flames.
“Shusei.” Hotsuma’s arms wrap around him tighter.
Life always has a way of returning back to this place for them. Shusei knows that’s never going to lead to change-that for this lifetime at least the scars that have marred their past are still going to divide and not bridge toward a future he wants. He likes to think that despite all the complaints Hotsuma has voiced that Yuki will make things better-maybe he will finally tear down the walls around them, maybe he’ll always be able to do the things that Shusei has unable to do in this lifetime. It might be fate’s cruel twist that his inadequacies rest where another’s blossom, but there is little else that enters his thoughts when he can feel Hotsuma’s fingers drifting upward underneath his shirt and he has to move them away-move them away before they get too close to those scars.
Sometimes Hotsuma forgets how fragile it’s become between them.
His partner sighs and forgets, brushes aside their earlier argument as he collapses into Shusei's embrace. Shusei holds him and brushes his hair from his forehead and stares up at the ceiling, counting invisible stars. Inertia slips back into his mind and it's driving force propels his thoughts, drifting them along a path where the outcome is still unknown.
Shusei remembers dying. And he still feels like that's the way he's living-clinging so desperately to the things he wants without really showing how his knuckles blanch and whiten in fear of letting go. But he isn't dead yet because Hotsuma is still here and he's warming his cold body and keeping him alive. He'll keep going, riding the inertia of Hotsuma's wave until Hotsuma doesn't need him anymore.
When that time comes...
...inertia will finally run out.