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The Indou house was calm, the occasional rustling of pages breaking up the silence. Wedged right in the middle of summer, the windows were wide open, letting in a damp breeze. The sound of cicadas drifted in on the weak wind. Yoshiki closed his eyes, leaning his head back until it rested against the wall. He took in a deep, warm breath, letting it out slowly through parted lips. The heat was oppressive, the hottest summer in the last five years, but Yoshiki was proud to admit he was getting used to it. It was the kind of heat that made you lazy, leaden limbs and heavy eyelids. Yoshiki felt completely at peace, too exhausted to work himself raw with anxiety like he had been doing lately.
Hikaru on his right, lying on his back with his legs propped up against the wall. His arms were outstretched in front of him, a copy of Master + Master held precariously in his hands. Yoshiki bit back a fond smile, listening to his friend hum and haw as he read. He always found it kind of cute, watching Hikaru enjoy the simple pleasures of being human.
As Hikaru was wont to do, he shattered their comfortable atmosphere with one sentence.
“Why don’tcha leave me?” he asked as casually as if he were discussing the manga he was reading. Yoshiki cracked his eyes open, letting his head fall to his shoulder to look at Hikaru directly.
“What d’ya mean?”
Hikaru set the manga down on his chest, hands resting on his diaphragm. It didn’t rise and fall when it was just the two of them; there was no need to pretend.
“I just mean,” a rueful grin split his face, “What d’ya want from me?”
Yoshiki shot up, heart beating in his throat.
“I don’t- nothing!” He exclaimed, quick enough that Hikaru’s smile faltered. Yoshiki drew his knees to his chest loosely, staring at the floor between his crossed ankles. A sickening burning sensation worked its way up the back of his neck, pooling in his cheeks.
He swallowed hard, refusing to look at Hikaru, “Why… Why d’ya think I w-want somethin’?”
Hikaru took a minute to think, gaze never straying far from his friend. Eventually, he rolled onto his side, manga slipping off his chest and hitting the ground with a dull thump. He propped his head up on his hand, the other drawing random shapes on the floor.
“Everyone wants somethin’. Humans wanna be alive. Spirits wanna consume,” he paused, tipping his head down in something close to bashfulness, “Lonely things wanna love.”
When Yoshiki failed to answer, Hikaru continued to watch him silently, letting the tension grow. Yoshiki thought he was used to this; the awkward questions, the naivety, the affection, the staring. Hikaru’s stare pressed into his temple like a loaded gun, held in calm, reverent hands. A cold sweat broke out over Yoshiki’s skin, goosebumps exploding on his flesh. That’s what it felt like when they were alone like this; like Yoshiki was just meat, sitting out in the open for the monster wearing his best friend’s face to tear in half. The thought of what Hikaru might find in his body made his stomach squirm. Would it be Yoshiki? Or would it be mixed? And when Hikaru finally did split him open, would he like what he found?
Yoshiki brought a hand up to cover his mouth as it filled with saliva.
“All’uh this research to find out what I am,” he continued, as if the corpse of their conversation wasn’t strewn across their laps, “Why’re ya helping me? It’s a whole lotta trouble for…” he quieted, chewing the inside of his cheek, “Fer somethin’ like me.”
Yoshiki considered his words. Usually, Hikaru’s insecurity about his humanity was something they would brush past; Yoshiki needed him by his side, so it didn’t matter what writhed around under his skin. They were friends, not just because Yoshiki knew Hikaru’s secret, but because they liked each other’s company. And deep down, Yoshiki knew that Hikaru didn’t want to hurt him. What purpose would Hikaru have if not to protect Yoshiki?
He brought his arms up to cross protectively over his chest. Tentatively, he relaxed against the wall, letting his feet slide along the floor until his legs lay flat. He could feel his clammy skin sticking to the floorboards.
“I don’...” Yoshiki choked on his words. He drew in a shuddering breath, feeling the confession well in his gut like acid, “I stay ‘cause- I want-”
Yoshiki shook his head, teeth gritted. Disgust wracked him, shuddering waves rolling down his spine until he shook, head to toe, with the strength of it. He shifted, until Hikaru was behind him. Anything to not have those piercing eyes on his face.
“Yoshiki?”
He covered his face with his hands, swallowing down bile.
“Are ya mad at me?”
“... No.” Yoshiki mumbled, muffled by his palms.
The sound of rustling fabric; Hikaru was moving, and Yoshiki couldn’t see where. Yoshiki’s heart exploded, his blood screaming at him to run away. But Yoshiki dug his hands into his face and didn’t move an inch.
“I just-” he drew in desperate breaths, throat threatening to close up, “I wanna understand ya, I guess?”
Yoshiki continued, not letting Hikaru respond, “It was easy with… w-with him, before. I knew there wasn’t anythin’...” He gasped, twisting the knife, “Anythin’ special between us.”
Hikaru was so still, Yoshiki was sure he wasn’t even breathing. He found himself following suit; a rabbit hiding in the grass, listening for its predator’s next move.
Rustling. He’s getting closer.
“Y-ya try so hard to feel- to feel-” He couldn’t get the word out. It writhed in his throat, thrashing violently as it fought to escape. His eyes watered, “An’ I just wanna do the same fer ya too. I wanna show ya th-that I- that I-!”
Yoshiki braced for impact, muscles so tight his body was shaking. If he just made himself small enough, kept the truth close enough to his heart, then maybe Hikaru wouldn't be able to rip it out of him
Gently, so gently that Yoshiki almost couldn’t feel it, Hikaru rested his head on Yoshiki’s back; a tender pressure between his aching shoulder blades. His soft, blond hair tickled the base of Yoshiki's neck.
“‘M not human so… I don’ really get this sorta thing,” he shifted closer, until his face was buried in Yoshiki’s shoulder. Subconsciously, Yoshiki relaxed, leaning into Hikaru as well.
“Yoshiki, I wanna do it our way. Not monster or human but…”
The only heartbeat between the two of them lay just next to Hikaru’s mouth. He couldn’t help but imagine how satisfying it would be to feel the steady thrum of Yoshiki’s life between his teeth.
“Mixed.” Yoshiki breathed.
Hikaru nudged Yoshiki’s hip with desperate fingers. They were ice cold, even with a layer of clothing between them.
“Stay with me, please.” He murmured, lips brushing the warm skin of Yoshiki’s shoulder. He shivered, momentarily overwhelmed by the unnatural chill of Hikaru’s breath.
“Hikaru, I-”
The hand at his hip started to melt into viscera, tendrils slowly crawling across his midsection. A perverted hug. Hikaru embraced his friend cautiously, afraid that if he moved too quickly Yoshiki would flee. There was a part of him that liked Yoshiki best like this; heart beating wildly and breath short, wriggling in his grip. Like holding a rabbit in your hand, feeling it kick and bite and scream. It’s small and scared and all it can do is hope that you have mercy.
Yoshiki screwed his eyes shut, “This ain’t right. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
Yoshiki covered his mouth with his palm. His teeth were chattering despite the sweltering summer heat.
“Ya want us to be like this, don’tcha?”
Yoshiki shook his head, straining to keep it all inside, “No,” yes, “It’s wrong,” please, I need this, “We’re not s’posed to act like this.”
Hikaru smiled into Yoshiki’s shoulder, eyes squinting with mirth. It burned like a branding iron.
“Yer a bad liar, Yoshiki.”
The sun cast a harsh shadow on both of them, splashed across Hikaru’s bedroom floor. Their silhouettes intertwined into one mass of flesh; the seam where they connected had been smoothed over with hasty, naive hands. It was impossible to tell where Yoshiki began and Hikaru ended.
“What if we get caught?” Yoshiki whispered against his palm.
Hikaru’s cool hand slid up his arm, trapping his wrist between ice cold fingers. He dragged it away from Yoshiki's face, holding it in his lap. Yoshiki stared at Hikaru’s hand; it should be stiff with rigor mortis, blue and swollen plump. But, as Hikaru pressed a thumb to Yoshiki's inner wrist, making a noise of wonder at his fluttering pulse, he felt no revulsion. He relaxed his arm, letting Hikaru’s hand turn to gore and interlace with his own.
“I’ll take care of it.”