Work Text:
The morning sun beamed against his closed eyelids, or perhaps the morning had simply been waiting for him to wake up. Opening moist eyes, the blue haired male sighs breathily at the pale ceiling, gingerly placing a hand on his forehead. Shin Tsukimi is a 19 year old teen living with his boyfriend, Sou Hiyori. Work had called for him as soon as they graduated highschool together, however he had almost been forced to retake the year as a result of the numerous times he’d skipped gym class in an effort to conserve the meager strength within his weak body.
School was a distant memory now as the both of them landed jobs. Shin operates in a convenience store and Hiyori at home on the computer. The frail man had wished many times he were the one sitting at home typing away at a computer, but he wasn’t smart enough like his boyfriend to pursue something that involved so much coding and planning. At least that’s what he assumed what the job was; Hiyori was always so secretive about all of his work despite Shin’s constant prodding.
It wasn’t his fault he was so nosy, it wasn’t like he wanted to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong either; but he was curious. Particularly now that Hiyori’s job required him to ignore him for extended periods of time and it was suddenly socially acceptable for him to be “busy” and utterly disregard the other person he is supposed to care for who was sitting in the same room as him.
Yeah, right. Busy Shin’s ass—he’s seen him talking on the phone countless times. Never bothered to ask who it was; it’d make his stomach upset just hearing about what he’d missed out on. Perhaps Midori finds other people more appealing to talk to, which isn’t wrong in a sense–but it still hurts to think about. Loneliness always found its way back to Shin, creeping within the structure of his very skeleton like an unwanted vine. Even though the day had just begun, Shin wound up already urging to vomit.
Getting up from bed, the sound of the toothbrush hitting his teeth had never felt so grating on his ears, minty foam filling his mouth while he gazed into his own reflection absentmindedly. There isn’t much that’s going on with his appearance: perpetual exhaustion lacing his eyes, his hair’s still nappy even though he’s brushed it a myriad of times, and not to mention the inconveniently placed stubble that dotted his face in an unappealing fashion.
Being disgusting has its quirks, apparently. It’ll land you a boyfriend that’s worlds out of your ballpark, just for him to get “busy” with these alleged mountains of work, then leave you as soon as he finds the chance to. Twisting the knob for the sink, he proceeds by spitting the froth into the bowl, consciously making an effort not to gag while he’s at it. Puking in the sink would be truly unfortunate.
Ordinarily, Shin would be able to enjoy his days off from work, logging into his favorite online game and playing the day away while also staying near his boyfriend. However, the situation has changed, and the blue haired man is now convinced the boyfriend in question is disregarding him. Logically speaking, Hiyori wouldn’t avoid him without saying something beforehand; he’s much more confrontational than Shin is–but who would want to tell their partner they’re ignoring them because they’re angry? What did Shin even do? Why is he being ignored?
Plagued by so many unanswered questions, Shin wonders distantly if he should spend the remainder of the day tucked away in bed. It was freezing out from under the covers, not to mention he had more time to waste… bed rotting. Though he doesn’t want to seem affected at all by Hiyori’s antics–it just meant another hit to his pride, and so, he swore he’ll continue his day entirely normally just like every day before the rest.
Hour one of continuing his day entirely and completely regularly, he decides to peek on his computer to ease the tension a bit. There was a chance he could just be interpreting Sou’s ignorance wrong, but the downsides to that meant he spent the entire morning fretting for nothing. Draping a quilt blanket over his shoulders, he approaches the seat in a vigilant manner–which wasn’t any out of the ordinary as it could lead some to believe–and sits.
Hiyori is across from him, already typing away on his computer. But now that Shin thinks about it, he hadn’t had the chance to see him in the morning when he had awoken. Only taking a quick moment to glance at the familiar male with hair a verdant green, he focuses his attention on booting up the computer and pressing the button at the bottom corner of the monitor with a digit.
Already starting to regret entering the same room as his partner, he types in his password with a sigh to combat the vacuous dread sitting with a suffocating weight on his chest, the sounds of his own keyboard swallowed by Sou’s constant clacking. The heavy air felt suffocating, leaving Shin breathless despite the frequent ventilation airing through the room. Sweat beads had begun to condense on his forehead, leaving his hands clammy in tandem with the soles of his feet, shedding himself of his quilt he’d attained earlier in fear he might melt within its grasp.
“Oh-ho, it's not cold today, Shin-kun? That’s rare.”
Called out the relaxed voice idled across from him, Hiyori not sparing a glance at his partner as if he’d been patiently observing through the agency of a third eye on his forehead.
If you’re so busy, why talk to me? Was the first notion that had fixed its way into Shin’s mind, scrutinizing every word in that obnoxious tease as though it were instinctive. Hiyori didn’t need to speak to him like a child after he decided he’s bored of him, disregarding Shin as if he wouldn’t notice. He’s not a dumbass!
Lips adhered together in favor of maintaining silence, Shin haphazardly clicks around on his desktop as if he were occupied with something pressing, creating blue-tinted squares on his wallpaper using his mouse inattentively. In his peripheral, he could envision the blur of the seaweed head he was so particularly fond of not seeming to take any notice in the silence embracing the room.
Rage seared its violent flames through his body in an instant, fighting back every urge to stand up and dump his so-called boyfriend on the spot. If he cared so much, he’d have said something to break the silence. It utterly appalled Shin that he didn’t even ask if anything was wrong. How could Hiyori simply ignore him again and again? What did Shin do? Why does he not care about him anymore? Shin didn’t do anything wrong, he can’t recall doing anything wrong–so, why?
Resentment paved the way for heartache, he was already grieving the boyfriend he hadn’t even lost. The back of his eyes aching from the hot tears he was holding back with a steadily splintering string, laden in his chair staring at nothing but his stagnant hands reposed across his lap. There had to be something downright wrong with him. Hiyori didn’t even do anything, yet he was getting so worked up over absolutely nothing. Stretching his hands out to grab onto his verdant beanie, he brought disorder to his hair by taking it off, cyan strands sprawling about wildly as Shin continued to mess with the cap absently.
The nausea that vexed him brought love to every repulsive feeling he’s had about himself since he’d awoken. It was silly to think their relationship would have lasted outside of highschool, Shin got lucky managing to even land Hiyori as a friend let alone a partner. As out of place the seaweed head was as a figure in his life, it felt infinitely soul crushing to think about losing him just because he got bored of Shin, and on top of that Shin was doing absolutely jack all to win Hiyori’s affection back–what a boyfriend he is, huh?
“Shin-kun,”
Called the suave voice across from him, devoid of any compassion,
“you’re fidgeting. What has upset you?”
Shin abruptly decided he couldn’t do it anymore, already within an ace of detonating himself in front of Hiyori and taking him kicking and screaming into the afterlife. Shooting up from the comforted seat, the wheels rolling backward with a squeak from his sudden movement, he lashed himself around and drew toward the door without another word.
Biting down angrily on his bottom lip, his fists clenching heatedly by his sides, Shin lingers in the living room with unforgiving tears brimming in his eyes. It’s even more stifling than before: the dusty air that laced the entire room with ash, coating the male’s lungs with heaps of bitter charcoal. Why was he like this? Oh god, he’s so nauseous it hurts–the pounding on his chest louder than ever, beating in his flushed ears like a violent war drum.
A part of Shin was wishing for the other male to come chase him down, to show he cared even just a little bit for Shin. He knew this thinking was idiotic, well acquainted with how pathetic he sounded even when he wasn't verbalizing his thoughts. In a fit of sudden exhaustion, Shin sits down on the plush of the minimalist couch, its ebony leather gently squeaking from underneath his weight when the man steadily sinks into the couch.
The hot tears had evaporated by then, dull navy blue eyes resting on the white of the ceiling absent of any motive. It was definitely concerning how vacant his brain felt, a sensation not exactly describable in the normal human language. Perilous turmoil had turned to complete silence, which wasn’t a good thing, yet it wasn’t necessarily bad either. Everything was so quiet, save for the cacophonous clicking ringing about in his eardrums. It served as a painful reminder for Hiyori’s fading affection toward Shin, every second that Hiyori used ignoring Shin steadily chipped away at the cyan-haired male’s heart with a keen pick.
It pissed Shin off: the fact Hiyori had not the slightest clue on how it feels to be ignored–to be not wanted. Pulsating, it had a blaring pulse and it was blacker than the shades of midnight. Perched inside of Shin’s ribcage, its long, bony fingers collided against his bones and scraped milky bone marrow from his ridges with its serrated claws.
It lived in his bloodstream, seizing the flow from getting to his brain with an inky sludge, leaving Shin numb from his head to his toes. It appeared, the faceless being, whenever he wound up doused in an indescribable loneliness, persisting by melting and becoming one with his structure while zapping all of the thought, emotion, and feeling from Shin.
It was so exhausting living like this.
Could it even be called living? Every emotion that left as soon as it came was agonizing, zapping bits of energy from his feeble mind ruthlessly–lacking any care for the way in which it tore Shin apart and left him sprawled across the floor with his hidden insides vulnerable to anybody that passed by. Living gave the impression of a positive connotation, an abstract idea that felt distant, almost unreachable from where Shin stood at this point in time.
He sniffles, using hands to press the heel of his palms against the moist condensation contained in his eyes. If there was a cure for the waves of destruction coursing through the valves of his heart, he’d take heaps of it–whatever it is. There’s got to be some sort of medication he could take for this, it wasn’t the least bit normal to feel this way. The more he thought about Hiyori, the more his head was burdened with weighted misery.
“What are you sulking for?”
A loud yelp braced the room, flinching so hard he almost hit the taller one in the face with his hand during his bout of flailing. Giggling, Hiyori was already giggling at him, his head tilted at a minute angle accompanying owlish jade eyes that always seemed to expertly pick apart Shin’s very being without the need to try. He had perched himself comfortably on the wooden flooring next to the couch, bending over with arms tucked behind his back–the usual stance he’d taken a liking to because it creeped Shin out, and–of course–his face shoved obnoxiously close to Shin’s.
Still a little stunned from the sudden approach of the suited man, Shin frowns, simply revolving his body around and shoving his cheek against the plush of the couch’s leather cushions. He wasn’t sulking, he was just mulling over the options he’d take when he eventually moves out: 1. Move back in with his parents, or 2. Kill himself. (preferably the second option.)
The couch had graciously shifted under Hiyori’s weight, Shin swearing he felt himself rise on the cushion when the other had taken a seat next to him as if he was a mere feather in comparison to the larger male before him. That humiliating notion made him curl into a ball, trying desperately to ignore the booming presence relaxing right beside him, callous eyes boring into the back of his skull and melting through the flesh and bone precisely to his brain. Hiyori made him feel naked, his cheeks heating up horribly at the embarrassment of being seen, of being perceived so strongly, of being completely bare with nothing to cover himself up with.
He hasn’t spoken a word to Hiyori all day, deciding it was too late to turn back now that the other was practically assaulting his personal space with his entire being. Tearing into his walls with ease, ripping apart the fundamental bricks Shin had built around himself as a defense mechanism, Hiyori akin to a wrecking ball mercilessly destroying everything in its path without a care for the rubble he left behind in his wake.
Out of curiosity, Shin turned his head as inconspicuously as he could, taking in a brief glimpse of the seaweed head staring lasers back into his eyes shamelessly. Whipping back around as if he’d been burned, Shin’s countenance was awfully influenced by the intrusive red invading his cheeks, and he clasps a firm hand around his chin to ground himself. Damn it, he should have expected that. More giggling had kissed his ears from behind him, fully liquidating him from any sort of confidence in this bleak situation.
“A–Are you here just to make fun of me…? Go away.”
Shin could feel his already weakened spirit die from the embarrassment of that stutter, now hoping Hiyori would just go away so he could sit here and continue to rot away into dust.
“No? Why do you keep pushing me away? I wonder.”
‘Pushing you away? You’re pushing me away!’ Was what rumbled in the core of his very being, shaking him until he was sick with the motion, the response his body reserved was anything but sightly. It tore his innards out, tormented him with this aching sentiment of pure worthlessness all to leave him burnt out by the time the flame blows itself out. Every word left unsaid made him want to bite his own tongue off. He wants Hiyori, he knows he wants him–perhaps that's why he’s been throwing a tantrum.
“Shin-ku~n”
Hiyori beckoned, delightfully hardening in his resolve. Fingertips grazed the leather belt hugging Shin’s bony waist, playing with the metal and listening to it clink against itself as he took in more of Shin’s surface area with his body.
“Do you want me to play with you? I’ve been so busy with work I–”
“Busy! You’re always busy, Hiyori!”
Shin’s abrupt anger crashed over the both of them like a cold tidal wave, each stray droplet of water staining their surroundings and drenching them in bewildering adrenaline. Trying desperately to get away from the other, he places his hands flat on their palms against the taller’s chest, shoving as hard as he could until the other backs away voluntarily. Tears clawed their disgusting way back into his eyes, that brimming sense of dread pressing all of his stomach acid into his throat, aching to throw up right then and there.
“You hate me! Just say you hate me already, you never even liked me, why are you talking to me like you ever liked me! I don’t understand! I don’t get it, why…”
Hiyori was sitting up now, stabbing and drilling those god awful eyes right into Shin’s back without a whisper. The silence, the stolid noiselessness continued to haunt the seafoam-haired male, he wanted to disappear into the ground, his heart breaking and melding its shards into the pit of his stomach. Shin himself doesn’t know why he didn’t say a word before, reading into every word that had shot out of his mouth and steadily shrinking with stark embarrassment. He shouldn’t have said that.
“Shin, look at me.”
The other male’s voice harbored no bark; he wasn’t angry nor was he sad, completely devoid of any sort of emotion when he had spoken Shin’s name so coldly it turned his blood to ice. Akin to a helpless dog, Shin turns his head obediently, scared–no, mortified of the threat of Hiyori’s facial expression. He doesn’t want to see Hiyori angry with him. Digging a hole and burying his feelings within it, Shin catches a glimpse of his boyfriend’s face, expecting to be graced with fury. Yet, that fury never came, not even a brow drew a furrow, complete indifference laced into the taller’s slim visage as if he were making a show of every emotion Shin was being violently dragged through, his apathy sharpening to a point and lodging right between Shin’s ribs.
“Is that what this is about?”
“E..Eh..?”
He didn’t know what to say–he didn’t know if it was appropriate to cry underneath Hiyori’s heavy gaze. Shin didn’t even want to breathe in all honesty.
Hiyori’s lips were pressed into a flat line, round eyes boring deep beneath his fragile skin. If the other was threatening before, this was in a whole different ballpark. Shin felt further and further away from being completely grounded in reality.
“Your tantrum,”
Shin winced at the implication of that, how the other’s words could cut through so cleanly without a trace of remorse or regret,
“You’re throwing a tantrum because I have a job. You have a job, too. This is hypocritical, don’t you think?”
“No… I–”
“What, did you think I was lying? Why would I lie about such a thing?”
The verdant-haired man was logical in nature, he was calculated and his prose was unmatched. Shin watched Hiyori power through every situation in the same mightful manner with awe, now quivering because he found himself directly in the line of fire to Hiyori’s indiscriminate forcefulness. Shin damned himself for not even having an answer to Hiyori’s bottomless questions, bottom lip trembling, his arms wrapped around himself protectively.
“Not only did you ignore me based on an assumption you fabricated in your head, you had the gall to claim all of these things that you don’t have authority to claim. Do you think you know how I feel, Shin?”
The typical smile stretched across his boyfriend’s face was gone, his entire face had dropped followed by the airiness in his usual tone, the constant lack of emotion was eating Shin alive where he sat.
“You haven’t said a word to me all day, yet you think you know how I feel? How selfish.”
“I didn’t…”
“Oh, but you thought you did. I know you, Shin-kun. You’re so anxious you drag everybody else into your anxiety because you think hurting others makes it fair, right?”
“Stop putting words into my mouth!”
Shin didn’t even realize it, the frown embedded in his face, his heart racing at speeds higher than a fucking racecar when he desperately attempts to defend himself against the hail storm that is Sou Hiyori.
A hand placed itself passively on his cheek, warm and familiar, Shin chased the feeling for a moment.
“Awe, but you’re so cute… I can’t stay angry at you. Why don’t we forget about this, hm?”
“…Forget? Ah..”
The sudden tension switch made Shin’s head hurt, grabbing the other’s wrist and gently pulling it away from his face.
“Don’t treat me like a kid..”
A few humiliating snickers drew from Sou, a smile naturally forming when he did so. Urgh, Hiyori had this impeccable way of making Shin feel like nothing else matters, wondering distantly if this was the correct way to end a thing like this. In the other’s defense, he did start it, yelling at his boyfriend even though all he’s done was try and talk to him. God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he? It felt too late to apologize now…
“Hiyori, I’m sorry…”
The entire time he hadn’t even acknowledged the tears clouding his blurry vision, transforming Hiyori into a green blob of nothing. Yet, as soon as a tear dribbled down his cheek, the other advanced forward—a wet sensation gliding its way up his face.
Did he just—?
A slew of high-pitched giggles flooded his bloodshot ears, turning completely red when he flailed and tried to crawl away from his horrible boyfriend.
“Where are you going? Shin-kun keeps moving around, you’re like a puppy.”
“Don’t l—lick me…!!! Grhh!!”