Of course you will. You can be anything you want to be, but I need you. Who else could I rely on to help solve this mystery other than our dear Team Leader?
[ Truth be told, the reason Eito trusts Takumi with this has nothing to do with the whole Team Leader thing, and everything to do with Takumi, the person. But Takumi doesn't need to know that. ]
[ So easy. Eito meets Takumi's pout with a bright smile, bringing his free hand to his chest and holding it over his heart in a dramatic show of gratitude. ]
We'll use our infusers at the same time, and go from there. Ready, Leader?
[ he steadies the blade over his chest, shares a glance with eito, and then drives it into his heart.
takumi is used to the pain by now, the sensation of hot, searing hemoanima coursing through his veins and igniting his blood with magic and misery. he believes it's a good thing that he chose the infirmary; no one will question stray blood spatters on the floor or notice a drone dispatch to recover a potential body. though, takumi does try to stifle his scream just in case. chalk that up to being paranoid most of the time.
as for his paranoia regarding eito... it would appear that his body did not reject his transformation. he stands beside takumi as he usually would, elegant with thick, black lashes lined in red. takumi breathes a shaky sigh of relief. ]
[ As always, they're perfectly in sync when they trigger their transformations. Though Takumi's appearance is affected by Eito's cognitive disorder whether he's in class armor or not, the pale flames of his soul always stand out in Eito's eyes. Something his gaze can always come back to, like a compass showing him the way home. ]
Now...
[ In some other life, if Eito was more prepared to handle simple touch, perhaps he would guide Takumi's hand toward his chest. Perhaps he would caress his palm, gently weave their fingers together, and bring that hand up toward his soul.
However, Eito does no such thing. It's nothing more than a brief, pointless fantasy. ]
Extend your hand out toward my chest cavity, and just—feel it out with your grimy little fingers, I suppose. Don't just stick it in.
[ if takumi weren't so skittish at the idea of probing? fingering? eito's body, then he would've quipped back with a, 'they're not grimy.' instead, he peers up at eito for a moment before lifting his hand and slowly reaching towards the other's broad chest. he can see eito's soul—still a bit wilted from his earlier injury—burning before his eyes, wispy, soft edges dissipating and reappearing like smoke.
takumi suddenly pauses. bites into his bottom lip. he swears he can hear his heart pounding in his ears. ]
Aotsuki... [ he hates the way his voice wavers. ] Tell me if it hurts.
[ with that said, takumi steels himself and brings his fingers past the outer rim of eito's chest cavity, carefully, marginally, and with the intention to feel what's inside.
...it's hot. burning? but not painful.
heat envelops takumi's hand, unfurling and closing around his knuckles and palm in a gesture he almost thinks is welcoming. though, that could just be his imagination... he is taken by the strange sensation, regardless, allowing the warmth to tickle his skin through his glove. however, soon realizing that he's just barely gone more than two inches inside, takumi decides to outstretch his fingers and search for something a bit more tangible—eito's soul, as eito himself said. ]
This—
[ takumi starts to speak but quickly shuts up upon making contact with a distinct wetness. and confused, takumi strokes it.
[ Eito holds his breath as Takumi's fingers first enter him, his body standing stock-still, unnaturally stiff. Takumi is so delicate about it, so thoughtful and thorough, and when his fingers outstretch, all of a sudden Eito feels as though his chest is on fire.
And then—a long, trembling gasp slips past his lips as soon as Takumi finds and strokes what Eito can only describe as his core. Eito doesn't even hear the low whine that follows, a desperate, yearning thing. His head droops forward, hair falling into his eyes and forehead hovering above Takumi's shoulder as a wave of pure and unadulterated heat washes over him like a tidal wave.
The sound he makes is raw, almost pained, but Eito wouldn't describe the sensation of Takumi grasping his soul as painful at all. Far from it. Rather, it's a foreign, sensitive feeling of being filled to the brim, of finding what his mind, body and soul have been missing since he got that wound. Since long before then, even. ]
Haah, t-this—?
[ It comes out as a low hiss, and his hands, which he has no idea what to do with, clench and unclench at his sides, fingers flexing around nothing. The inexplicable desire to reach out for Takumi to steady himself is there, and it takes actual willpower to stay still and wait, to let Takumi explore and follow through with what Eito asked of him. ]
Use—your words, Takumi-kun.
[ He would despise how pitiful he sounds if it didn't feel so unbearably good. ]
[ the noise eito initially makes sends a pang of sharp panic into takumi's stomach, and he immediately seizes up in surprise. he then jerks his head up to search eito's features, fingers motionless but still lodged into eito's chest. however, what he's greeted with... isn't an expression of pain. at least, from what he can see before eito slumps forward and obscures his view. that must mean it's fine, then, right...? probably? takumi also notes that they are standing incredibly close to each other now; the warmth of eito's body is nearly palpable.
...okay.
he audibly gulps and stifles a shiver of anxiety. when takumi speaks, there's a raspy quality to his voice. ]
Sorry, [ he says, unsure if this is something he should be apologizing for or not. ] I know you said not to, uh. Stick it in.
[ cringing at his phrasing, takumi sucks in a breath and twitches his fingers. again, there's something wet under them, a bit smooth and silky. he deliberately drags the tips down the expanse of this... thing. soul? heart? viscera? he honestly can't tell. but what takumi can discern is the fact eito's voice is kind of... distracting. ]
I meant to say that this is weird. Not in a bad way, just—it's really hot inside.
[ 'It's really hot inside.' The way that statement sends a fresh ripple of heat through his trembling body feels. Nonsensical. But Eito can't deny that it does, and he shivers again, feeling utterly helpless. ]
T-Takumi—kun—be quiet.
[ Yes, he is well aware that he literally just told Takumi to use his words, but Takumi surely knows that Eito's difficult, contradictory nature is par for the course. And Takumi should not be apologizing. ]
L-Let me— I need—
[ It's a miracle he's still standing upright with how much his shoulders are shaking. Eito manages to look back up, pupils blown dark and wide, long lashes fluttering rapidly. Then, he does exactly what he told Takumi not to do, reaches out, and all but shoves his hand inside Takumi's soul. It's ruthless, with no build-up whatsoever, only greed and desperation.
He squeezes hard around Takumi's soul, then slows, running his thumb over that same wetness Takumi is touching. Grazes over it gently, rubbing back and forth, meticulous and exploratory.
With Takumi's hand still wrapped around his core, those slender fingers of his twitching, Eito's vision goes blank. At least, he thinks it does, until he sees several images playing out behind his eyelids in quick succession, much like the flashbacks he had days ago.
Except this time, what he sees is not a reel of his own traumas, but Takumi. Sumino Takumi, for who he really is: a striking, handsome young man.
However, Takumi isn’t the only image he sees. Eito also sees himself, standing by Takumi’s side, practically towering over him with how much shorter and smaller Takumi is. Eito watches their first meeting play out, followed by other scattered, random scenes. One moment, they’re in the library together, hunched over a stack of books and chatting animatedly; the next, Eito is winking at Takumi and waving, Takumi giving him a small, embarrassed smile in response.
It is incredibly overwhelming. Eito doesn’t realize just how hard he’s squeezing Takumi’s insides all the while, large hand balled into a fist. His other hand has found purchase on Takumi’s shoulder, which he is not currently registering as slimy or disgusting. He grips onto it, something akin to a half-sob, half-groan rising from his throat. ]
[ for a short, lingering second, they stare into each other's eyes. eito has never lowered himself down to takumi's level like this, so it's as surprising as the whiny, hilting sound eito had made before it. the pretty blue of his eyes make up takumi's entire world; he can see each individual eyelash, red eyeliner stark against pale and soft skin. then, before takumi can ask what it is that eito needs from him—to stop or continue or go deeper—eito's hand is lunging forward...
...and piercing takumi's chest. ]
Khk—!
[ takumi's eyes open wider than ever and he chokes—wetly, snagging in his throat and near threadbare. a convulsion follows next, and before he can figure out what's happening, he's already gasping and using his other hand to grasp eito's wrist. there's no strength to be had in ripping it away; he has been drained powerless. ]
St—op— [ he pleads, but it's too late. the lurid and incomprehensible sensation of being violated so deeply, so integrally and viscerally, floods takumi's body. he feels utterly feverish; it's a wonder at all he hasn't burst into flames. no, maybe he has and just isn't aware of it yet—his untimely demise. ] Aotsuki!
[ eito's hand unabashedly molests him, the pads of his fingertips groping and stroking the entirety of takumi's core in a terribly methodical fashion. although gentle, the touch feels all encompassing, like eito is caressing every part of takumi at once. and in turn, takumi's lashes flutter and a shuddery, if not startled, moan escapes his lips. he doesn't register the handful of clipped sounds that come after it; takumi can only look helplessly into eito's eyes and whine.
pain, pleasure, something better or worse—he doesn't understand what it is. but—it feels good. and that perception only deepens the harder eito squeezes him. ]
Aotsuki... I can't...
[ however, eito doesn't appear as though he is even seeing takumi anymore. he just sobs in a tone that incites a flare of urgency in the pit of takumi's stomach. ]
[ Operating on some sort of animalistic instinct, Eito steps forward until he's backing Takumi against one of the coffin-shaped recovery drones lining the walls of the infirmary, boxing him in with that hand on his shoulder. His other hand finally gives Takumi some reprieve, slipping out of his hole.
Eito's long, gloved fingers are drenched in some kind of clear fluid, the consistency and thickness similar to that of blood. At the moment, Eito doesn't care what it is—he's too distracted by ever so gently tracing the rim of Takumi's hole with those fingers, captivated by the way the wisps of his soul are quivering and flickering. Eito's delicate features are twisted into a manic expression, one Takumi must be intimately familiar with. The only difference is that there's a deep flush high on his cheeks. Even his forehead is dusted a faint shade of pink. ]
Oh, Takumi-kun. You don't mean that. Do you?
[ Breath coming in harsh, heavy pants, Eito leans down and buries his head in the crook of Takumi's neck, glasses askew. All the while, his fingers continue their ministrations, no longer groping and squeezing but instead tracing a slow circle. Eito has no plans of stopping. Not yet—he needs to see how the end of their twisted fairy tale plays out. ]
[ pressed against the wall, takumi is distantly aware of just how tall eito is. he blocks out the view of the infirmary, of the ominous lighting and the revive-o-matic, swallowing takumi up whole and willing him to focus on that intrusive hand. he's still making pathetic noises by the time eito eventually pulls it out, but eito himself is seemingly pleased by his response. he decides to instead trace the jagged edges of takumi's cavity; the sensation is as arousing as everything else has been.
eito's later coo causes takumi to weakly whine again, tilting his chin up as the other dips forward and presses in closer. their proximity was already something new, but this—takumi can't recall a time he's ever been this close to eito. the heat of his body sends thrills of excitement up and down takumi's back, his fingers twitching within eito's chest and reminding him that his hand is still very much in there. the wetness from earlier has all but drenched his glove...
how strange. ]
I—I do, [ he says, but his body reacts differently. takumi practically nuzzles up to eito and quivers. ] I don't know... why it feels this way, but—
[ frustrated and seeking retaliation, takumi plunges his arm further into eito. he's met with a blazing heat and an absurd slickness. however, he can't quite focus on that, not when his vision suddenly blacks out and he feels as though he's gone somewhere far away. ]
Huh?
[ what... is this?
visions of the past, of the eito he used to know and who loathed him fearsomely, flicker in front of him. he can see his demure, sweet smile each time they part ways, feel a hand in his and a warm voice in his ear, the strength of a careless shove, eito's manic grin as he slaughtered shion before his eyes—
takumi inhales sharply and forcibly tugs eito closer. ]
[ Their bodies collide clumsily when Takumi drags him in, one of Eito's legs finding a place between Takumi's thighs. With half of Takumi's arm burying itself inside of him, Eito can't stifle a long, low moan, the sound muffled against Takumi's neck but very much audible. ]
I— M-Mmph—
[ Takumi whining and shivering like that, like his entire world has been narrowed down to Eito alone, is too much to process. Reprieve over, now it's Eito's turn to push his hand back into Takumi's chest, grasping his—heart?—once again. It's not as violent this time, with less forceful squeezing and more firm but gentle prodding and nudging. Sure enough, another—flashback?—plays behind his closed eyelids.
The next thing he sees is himself wearing his class armor and doubled over on the ground, panting, exhausted and spent. In the distance are the other members of the SDU, his friends, glaring down at him with contempt, confusion, horror, disgust. And then there's Takumi, standing before him with his infuser, eyes blown wide with—rage? Hurt? Despair? It's such a complicated storm of dark emotions, Eito can't begin to discern them all.
The stage is set, and though he's only watching, it feels as though he's actually reliving it. Eito hears himself murmur, "G-Goodbye, Takumi-kun... You know... until the very end..."
And then Takumi stabs him right through the chest, cutting him down, his expression twisted into one of pure anguish. The past Eito keeps talking, hysterical, as blood pours from the wide open gash in his stomach, but the Eito of the present doesn't even process his deranged rambling. He's too absorbed in the expression on Takumi's face as he absorbs his Hemoanima, taking Eito's strength as his own, staking his claim and making them one. Two parts of one whole.
Up until this moment, Eito never realized the extent of just how much his betrayal devastated Takumi. It's been so easy to remove himself from it because here, his plan never made it that far. Not even close. Takumi had told him, yes, but hearing about what he did is one thing and seeing it play out before his eyes is another.
Not only that, but the idea and image of Takumi taking Eito's Hemoanima within him has Eito trembling all over again, breath hot against Takumi's ear as another needy moan unfurls from his throat. It is so, so perverse and so arousing it feels as though his entire body is a bow pulled taut. Unconsciously, his knee grinds against Takumi's thigh, entire body pressed up against his, flattening him against the side of the coffin. ]
[ he is pulled out of the memory by the sound of eito keening in his ear, low and earnest and all too titillating. takumi blushes in response, though his embarrassment is interrupted by his vision restoring itself a second later. he then becomes startlingly aware of their current position—eito's hair tickling his temple as he trembles, his fingers lodged deep in takumi's chest and legs parted to maintain their lack of distance. he has slanted himself in such a way that he rests somewhat on takumi's bent thigh. ]
Aotsuki?
[ takumi can't see eito's expression like this, but he figures there's been some sort of recovery from the way his hand resumes fondling him. no longer harshly squeezing, those gloved fingertips carefully explore takumi's innermost self; they brush against where he believes his heart is, stroking, gently pressing and kneading. each small instance of pressure sends a wanton pang between takumi's legs, and he can't contain his groan. his forehead ends up falling forward to settle on eito's front, panting.
...shit. takumi's teeth clench, and he sends up a silent prayer to whoever is out there.
Don't let him notice.
notice what? the stiffness stretching the material of his class armor, obviously. he hates the fact he's getting off to this—being manhandled and used. ]
You— [ he swallows thickly. ] You saw it, too, didn't you?
[ a glimpse of something beyond the both of them. ]
Answer me.
[ takumi lifts his leg upwards to grind into eito's groin. he doesn't know why he does it; it's purely instinct. his hand, meanwhile, sinks in deep enough he caresses the back of eito's ribcage. ]
[ It's meant to be an answer to the question, but the word slips past his lips in a pleased, breathy gasp as Takumi's leg presses into his groin, hoping the encouragement will coax Takumi into doing that again, as instinctual as it was.
The only reason he doesn't notice the stiffness between Takumi's legs is because Eito's own predicament is looming, unbearable heat surging between his thighs.
Eito was already beginning to feel dizzy with need, but when Takumi reaches that far in, further them either of them have reached up until this second, it almost makes his knees buckle. The moan dragged out of him is so high-pitched and indecent Eito wouldn't believe it came from him if he wasn't so lost in Takumi's hand caressing his sternum. His own hand, the one inside Takumi, stills completely, curled fingers pausing their movements as his hips roll against Takumi's, seeking more contact.
Now that he's seen the real, genuine image of Takumi, his senses are going haywire. His sight is the same, nothing is fixed, but he can form an actual image in his head. A hand fondling his core, a knee pressed up against his thigh. Human limbs, red hair grazing his cheek, a sloped neck.
What the hell is happening. ]
I saw—[ he swallows thickly, gasping for air. ]—you. Us. Everything, all at once.
[ Finally, Eito lifts his head to meet Takumi's gaze, eyes half-lidded. Right now, just looking at him feels intimate, makes Eito feel so vulnerable he would gag if he wasn't so swept up in... whatever they have going on. ]
[ eito's moan is so debauched that it elicits the most fierce flush takumi thinks he's ever experienced. scalding heat rushes into his face, hot enough that he can feel it in the back of his eyes. it almost causes him to tear up from the intensity—almost, if not for eito deciding to move now, grinding conspicuously against takumi's leg in search of more contact. that little number immediately distracts him and has takumi's stomach clenching and pulse racing.
oh.
they're—they're really doing this. this is what it's come to.
red-faced, eito will see that takumi's expression is both pensive and thoroughly flustered upon locking eyes. though, that'll last for just a brief second or two before takumi averts his gaze to the side, the tips of his ears visibly pink. ]
takumi's eyes flicker back to eito's face, and then his brows furrow. he shifts a bit closer. ]
You should understand how I feel now.
[ he proceeds to drag his fingertips over and along the back wall of eito's ribs, caressing them individually as if admiring fragile glass. they contract with each breath and remind takumi that it was his decision to allow eito to live. eito exists because of him. taken by that thought, takumi draws his hand back to gently knead the familiar, pulsing organ within eito's left breast.
strange imagery flashes in takumi's mind—of dark shades, an eito that follows him around and responds happily each time takumi takes him by the hand. dazzling as he may be, he is interrupted by a scene consisting of eito at takumi's feet, bloodied and smiling and gentle, voice delicate as he murmurs a confession of love. then, he goes completely still, and takumi—he reaches out to absorb eito's hemoanima a second time. eito's warmth floods his body and gives him the strength to continue.
...although takumi has no recollection of this happening, it resonates with him.
he huffs to himself and finally moves, deliberately grinding his leg against eito with the knowledge they can't come back from this. takumi's voice takes on a thin, rough edge when he speaks, feeling out eito's arousal as he does. ]
[ Takumi is redder than Eito has ever seen him before. It's almost cute. It is cute. The intensity of feelings have shone through loud and clear, the weight of them tangible in the palm of Eito's hand. ]
... You're the idiot.
[ Eito huffs, dragging his fingers out of Takumi's hole once more, ghosting them along the rim on their way out. Eito draws his hand back and holds two gloved fingers up in front of his face, a string of that sticky substance clinging to the pads of them. He narrows his eyes, examining the fluid for a few seconds before lowering his palm and pressing it to one of Takumi's hips. He has to reach down to do so, compensating for Takumi's shorter stature. ]
How could you presume to know what I want?
[ Though his arousal is, by now, painfully obvious, the last shreds of pride and sanity he's still clinging to won't allow him to so easily admit that he wants this, whatever this entails—that he wants Takumi, every single part of him, no matter how hideous. ]
I'm afraid you'll have to try harder than that.
[ Then, Eito responds with his body in kind, hips stuttering against Takumi's leg again. His other hand, the one that isn't sticky, grasps the collar of Takumi's class armor and gives it a sharp, harsh tug until their faces are closer than ever, close enough to be well within kissing distance.
Clumsily, Eito surges forward, bridging the miniscule gap between them.
What will change between them, after this? And even more pressing of a question, what won't? ]
[ embarrassment doesn't describe what takumi feels seeing eito observe the viscous, slick fluid drenching his fingers. it isn't—it really isn't, he tells himself—what it looks like, but he still can't stifle the pang of humiliation that blossoms in his stomach, anyway. takumi barely manages to control his expression once that offensive hand is lowered, breathing out another huff as eito adjusts their position again.
any protest that takumi would like to make afterwards unfortunately dies in his throat once eito tugs him forward, lips nearing his, so, so close, and hips pressed snugly to his thigh. ]
Aotsuki—
[ but eito does it—he crosses the final line.
takumi's stern features flicker a second after their lips meet. he shudders, gasping and shoulders tensing, the downward slant of his brows quickly upturning. but—he doesn't resist. rather, takumi soon growls low in his throat and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. eito might be mortified later, but whatever. who cares. he can puke in the safety of his room if he wants to; right now, takumi is determined to stay on level footing. ]
Say it, [ he mumbles into eito's mouth, breathless and unintentionally needy. ] I know you better than you think I do.
[ his free hand settles on one trim hip, nudging eito closer so that their lower bodies are better aligned. and ignoring his own shamelessness, takumi presses his clothed cock against eito's. not enough to stimulate, not enough to feel genuine pleasure from it, but for eito to know and understand what he could be getting if he obeyed. ]
[ Helpless and starved for attention, Eito whines in response to the feeling of Takumi's obvious erection straining against his, even through their clothes. It's not meant to be stimulating, but the principle of it, the knowledge that they're both experiencing these same sensations and responding to them in kind—it's enough to work Eito up even more, his head swimming. That damn growl Takumi makes doesn't help. Who gave him permission to make that sort of noise?
And he's making it for Eito. The knowledge is dizzying, almost too much to think about in this moment. ]
You can't—you can't make me.
[ Just as breathless, his response is murmured into Takumi's mouth before he nudges at his lower lip with his teeth. Now he just sounds petulant and childish, but if there is one thing Aotsuki Eito excels at, it's being difficult.
Without reservation, the hand at Takumi's hip tightens its grasp, gripping hard before sliding around to the underside of his thigh and hiking his leg up until it wraps around Eito's waist. The motion of it is a little clumsy, but would be much clumsier if their bodies weren't surging with strength from their Hemoanima. Eito could lift Takumi up, if he wanted to. Takumi could—could wrap his legs around his waist, and Eito could carry him, press him against the hard surface and draw out even more interesting sounds from him. He could overwhelm him, completely and utterly, until Takumi has no choice but to succumb to it, to call out his name.
Perhaps that fantasy shouldn't be as arousing as it is, but when he envisions it, when he pictures Takumi as the handsome, attractive person he is, a fresh wave of pure, shameless want nearly drowns him. ]
Edited (forgot last name-first name order </3) 2026-01-24 16:10 (UTC)
Ugh, you're impossible. Every version of you, wherever we meet—you never listen!
[ takumi's small nose wrinkles in dismay, peering up at eito with a mixture of heated arousal and irritation. it sucks, but eito unfortunately has mass on side; he can manhandle takumi effortlessly, and it's already apparent from how he hikes up takumi's leg to press more firmly against his core. if takumi weren't so annoyed, he'd recoil and fluster at the fact he can feel their size difference even there—a place he has chosen not to think too hard about before this.
his hand retracts from eito's hip to push at his chest in a display of defiance. this allows some distance between their faces, as well as a view of takumi's ruddy lips. ]
Back off, then. I won't let you touch me if you won't be honest with me.
[ he squirms in eito's grasp in an attempt to wriggle away, which... does cause some of that much needed friction. a vulnerable noise escapes takumi because of it, but he quickly follows it up with another weak shove. he also pulls his hand free of eito's cavity; it's just as wet and sticky. ]
[ The too-abrupt loss of the warm sensation of Takumi's hand in his chest combined with the shove has Eito reaching for Takumi pathetically. There's a wounded look coloring his features, and then seconds later, something more sheepish. ]
Ha... Looks like I said it. But that won't be good enough for you, will it?
[ Even knowing he has the upper hand here and could literally do anything he wanted, Eito heaves a resigned sigh in the face of Takumi's defiance. After all, that's part of what he loves about him. ]
Ta-ku-mi-kun. [ In an obnoxious, singsong voice, before his expression straightens. ] You have to know this isn't easy for me... Sharing my feelings, that is. Forgive me?
[ wow, that was—that was like he figuratively spritzed eito with water for bad behavior. takumi's surprise shows on his face before he reels it back in and squirms again, lightly beating his fist on the right side of eito's chest. though, this time it isn't to push him away, but as punishment.
...this position is ridiculous, by the way. the foot takumi still has planted on the ground is just about balancing on his toes, his weight essentially being carried by eito instead. ]
Don't ask for forgiveness now. Your dick is pressing against me.
[ only takumi's sulkiness gives him the confidence to bluntly state the obvious.
he swallows and relaxes in eito's grip. ]
Say my name and tell me when it feels good. [ his cheeks color. ] Do it properly or—or I won't kiss you.
[ Takumi's tiny fist doesn't faze him in the slightest. Actually, it's rather adorable. Eito only smiles down at him, one of his creepier, more unsettling grins. ]
Ah, so you noticed. How attentive of you.
[ It is ridiculous. Eito might as well just carry him for real, but—for now, he rubs a soothing, apologetic circle into the underside of Takumi's thigh before guiding his leg back down. There. Now, Takumi can guide them into any position he wants, if he so chooses. ]
... I'll be good, Takumi-kun. Promise.
[ A beat passes, and then: ]
Kissing you isn't nearly as disgusting as I imagined it would be.
[ Did he just give himself away...? That's supposed to be more Takumi's thing, isn't it? Oh, well. There's a high chance that he will be puking his guts out later, but it's not something Eito is thinking about at all right now. Right now, all he does is chase Takumi's lips, kissing him again—gentler, this time, even chaste. As a treat. ]
overstimulated from literally everything that's happened, eito's gentle touch causes takumi to shiver. his foot is then carefully lowered to the floor and he regains his balance. their proper height difference is reestablished this way, with eito towering over him again. that smirk doesn't help. ]
Glad to know I'm not that gross, I guess.
[ the glower takumi gives eito before being kissed is half-hearted at best. he just breathes out through his nose and leans up a little to ease some of eito's strain, settling his sullied against over the jagged edge exposing eito's soul. his other hand, however...
...travels lower and hesitantly palms the stiff material between eito's legs. takumi can feel distinct heat. it's kind of dizzying.
suddenly feverish, he parts from eito's lips and lowers his chin. ]
You like saying that, huh? [ takumi speaks unwittingly. ] Do you want me to call you a 'good boy', Aotsuki?
[ because for whatever reason, that's a phrase that eito likes spouting off. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Truth be told, the reason Eito trusts Takumi with this has nothing to do with the whole Team Leader thing, and everything to do with Takumi, the person. But Takumi doesn't need to know that. ]
no subject
the magic words... ]
Fine, whatever! I'll go along with it, but only because this could benefit us in the long run.
[ he really is too easy. ]
Just tell me what I need to do.
[ takumi gives eito a sulky look before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his infuser. ]
no subject
[ So easy. Eito meets Takumi's pout with a bright smile, bringing his free hand to his chest and holding it over his heart in a dramatic show of gratitude. ]
We'll use our infusers at the same time, and go from there. Ready, Leader?
no subject
[ he steadies the blade over his chest, shares a glance with eito, and then drives it into his heart.
takumi is used to the pain by now, the sensation of hot, searing hemoanima coursing through his veins and igniting his blood with magic and misery. he believes it's a good thing that he chose the infirmary; no one will question stray blood spatters on the floor or notice a drone dispatch to recover a potential body. though, takumi does try to stifle his scream just in case. chalk that up to being paranoid most of the time.
as for his paranoia regarding eito... it would appear that his body did not reject his transformation. he stands beside takumi as he usually would, elegant with thick, black lashes lined in red. takumi breathes a shaky sigh of relief. ]
...Alright, step one down. Now, what?
[ he approaches eito's side and pauses. ]
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Now...
[ In some other life, if Eito was more prepared to handle simple touch, perhaps he would guide Takumi's hand toward his chest. Perhaps he would caress his palm, gently weave their fingers together, and bring that hand up toward his soul.
However, Eito does no such thing. It's nothing more than a brief, pointless fantasy. ]
Extend your hand out toward my chest cavity, and just—feel it out with your grimy little fingers, I suppose. Don't just stick it in.
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takumi suddenly pauses. bites into his bottom lip. he swears he can hear his heart pounding in his ears. ]
Aotsuki... [ he hates the way his voice wavers. ] Tell me if it hurts.
[ with that said, takumi steels himself and brings his fingers past the outer rim of eito's chest cavity, carefully, marginally, and with the intention to feel what's inside.
...it's hot. burning? but not painful.
heat envelops takumi's hand, unfurling and closing around his knuckles and palm in a gesture he almost thinks is welcoming. though, that could just be his imagination... he is taken by the strange sensation, regardless, allowing the warmth to tickle his skin through his glove. however, soon realizing that he's just barely gone more than two inches inside, takumi decides to outstretch his fingers and search for something a bit more tangible—eito's soul, as eito himself said. ]
This—
[ takumi starts to speak but quickly shuts up upon making contact with a distinct wetness. and confused, takumi strokes it.
huh. ]
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And then—a long, trembling gasp slips past his lips as soon as Takumi finds and strokes what Eito can only describe as his core. Eito doesn't even hear the low whine that follows, a desperate, yearning thing. His head droops forward, hair falling into his eyes and forehead hovering above Takumi's shoulder as a wave of pure and unadulterated heat washes over him like a tidal wave.
The sound he makes is raw, almost pained, but Eito wouldn't describe the sensation of Takumi grasping his soul as painful at all. Far from it. Rather, it's a foreign, sensitive feeling of being filled to the brim, of finding what his mind, body and soul have been missing since he got that wound. Since long before then, even. ]
Haah, t-this—?
[ It comes out as a low hiss, and his hands, which he has no idea what to do with, clench and unclench at his sides, fingers flexing around nothing. The inexplicable desire to reach out for Takumi to steady himself is there, and it takes actual willpower to stay still and wait, to let Takumi explore and follow through with what Eito asked of him. ]
Use—your words, Takumi-kun.
[ He would despise how pitiful he sounds if it didn't feel so unbearably good. ]
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...okay.
he audibly gulps and stifles a shiver of anxiety. when takumi speaks, there's a raspy quality to his voice. ]
Sorry, [ he says, unsure if this is something he should be apologizing for or not. ] I know you said not to, uh. Stick it in.
[ cringing at his phrasing, takumi sucks in a breath and twitches his fingers. again, there's something wet under them, a bit smooth and silky. he deliberately drags the tips down the expanse of this... thing. soul? heart? viscera? he honestly can't tell. but what takumi can discern is the fact eito's voice is kind of... distracting. ]
I meant to say that this is weird. Not in a bad way, just—it's really hot inside.
[ why does his mouth feel dry...? ]
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T-Takumi—kun—be quiet.
[ Yes, he is well aware that he literally just told Takumi to use his words, but Takumi surely knows that Eito's difficult, contradictory nature is par for the course. And Takumi should not be apologizing. ]
L-Let me— I need—
[ It's a miracle he's still standing upright with how much his shoulders are shaking. Eito manages to look back up, pupils blown dark and wide, long lashes fluttering rapidly. Then, he does exactly what he told Takumi not to do, reaches out, and all but shoves his hand inside Takumi's soul. It's ruthless, with no build-up whatsoever, only greed and desperation.
He squeezes hard around Takumi's soul, then slows, running his thumb over that same wetness Takumi is touching. Grazes over it gently, rubbing back and forth, meticulous and exploratory.
With Takumi's hand still wrapped around his core, those slender fingers of his twitching, Eito's vision goes blank. At least, he thinks it does, until he sees several images playing out behind his eyelids in quick succession, much like the flashbacks he had days ago.
Except this time, what he sees is not a reel of his own traumas, but Takumi. Sumino Takumi, for who he really is: a striking, handsome young man.
However, Takumi isn’t the only image he sees. Eito also sees himself, standing by Takumi’s side, practically towering over him with how much shorter and smaller Takumi is. Eito watches their first meeting play out, followed by other scattered, random scenes. One moment, they’re in the library together, hunched over a stack of books and chatting animatedly; the next, Eito is winking at Takumi and waving, Takumi giving him a small, embarrassed smile in response.
It is incredibly overwhelming. Eito doesn’t realize just how hard he’s squeezing Takumi’s insides all the while, large hand balled into a fist. His other hand has found purchase on Takumi’s shoulder, which he is not currently registering as slimy or disgusting. He grips onto it, something akin to a half-sob, half-groan rising from his throat. ]
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...and piercing takumi's chest. ]
Khk—!
[ takumi's eyes open wider than ever and he chokes—wetly, snagging in his throat and near threadbare. a convulsion follows next, and before he can figure out what's happening, he's already gasping and using his other hand to grasp eito's wrist. there's no strength to be had in ripping it away; he has been drained powerless. ]
St—op— [ he pleads, but it's too late. the lurid and incomprehensible sensation of being violated so deeply, so integrally and viscerally, floods takumi's body. he feels utterly feverish; it's a wonder at all he hasn't burst into flames. no, maybe he has and just isn't aware of it yet—his untimely demise. ] Aotsuki!
[ eito's hand unabashedly molests him, the pads of his fingertips groping and stroking the entirety of takumi's core in a terribly methodical fashion. although gentle, the touch feels all encompassing, like eito is caressing every part of takumi at once. and in turn, takumi's lashes flutter and a shuddery, if not startled, moan escapes his lips. he doesn't register the handful of clipped sounds that come after it; takumi can only look helplessly into eito's eyes and whine.
pain, pleasure, something better or worse—he doesn't understand what it is. but—it feels good. and that perception only deepens the harder eito squeezes him. ]
Aotsuki... I can't...
[ however, eito doesn't appear as though he is even seeing takumi anymore. he just sobs in a tone that incites a flare of urgency in the pit of takumi's stomach. ]
Please...
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Eito's long, gloved fingers are drenched in some kind of clear fluid, the consistency and thickness similar to that of blood. At the moment, Eito doesn't care what it is—he's too distracted by ever so gently tracing the rim of Takumi's hole with those fingers, captivated by the way the wisps of his soul are quivering and flickering. Eito's delicate features are twisted into a manic expression, one Takumi must be intimately familiar with. The only difference is that there's a deep flush high on his cheeks. Even his forehead is dusted a faint shade of pink. ]
Oh, Takumi-kun. You don't mean that. Do you?
[ Breath coming in harsh, heavy pants, Eito leans down and buries his head in the crook of Takumi's neck, glasses askew. All the while, his fingers continue their ministrations, no longer groping and squeezing but instead tracing a slow circle. Eito has no plans of stopping. Not yet—he needs to see how the end of their twisted fairy tale plays out. ]
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eito's later coo causes takumi to weakly whine again, tilting his chin up as the other dips forward and presses in closer. their proximity was already something new, but this—takumi can't recall a time he's ever been this close to eito. the heat of his body sends thrills of excitement up and down takumi's back, his fingers twitching within eito's chest and reminding him that his hand is still very much in there. the wetness from earlier has all but drenched his glove...
how strange. ]
I—I do, [ he says, but his body reacts differently. takumi practically nuzzles up to eito and quivers. ] I don't know... why it feels this way, but—
[ frustrated and seeking retaliation, takumi plunges his arm further into eito. he's met with a blazing heat and an absurd slickness. however, he can't quite focus on that, not when his vision suddenly blacks out and he feels as though he's gone somewhere far away. ]
Huh?
[ what... is this?
visions of the past, of the eito he used to know and who loathed him fearsomely, flicker in front of him. he can see his demure, sweet smile each time they part ways, feel a hand in his and a warm voice in his ear, the strength of a careless shove, eito's manic grin as he slaughtered shion before his eyes—
takumi inhales sharply and forcibly tugs eito closer. ]
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I— M-Mmph—
[ Takumi whining and shivering like that, like his entire world has been narrowed down to Eito alone, is too much to process. Reprieve over, now it's Eito's turn to push his hand back into Takumi's chest, grasping his—heart?—once again. It's not as violent this time, with less forceful squeezing and more firm but gentle prodding and nudging. Sure enough, another—flashback?—plays behind his closed eyelids.
The next thing he sees is himself wearing his class armor and doubled over on the ground, panting, exhausted and spent. In the distance are the other members of the SDU, his friends, glaring down at him with contempt, confusion, horror, disgust. And then there's Takumi, standing before him with his infuser, eyes blown wide with—rage? Hurt? Despair? It's such a complicated storm of dark emotions, Eito can't begin to discern them all.
The stage is set, and though he's only watching, it feels as though he's actually reliving it. Eito hears himself murmur, "G-Goodbye, Takumi-kun... You know... until the very end..."
And then Takumi stabs him right through the chest, cutting him down, his expression twisted into one of pure anguish. The past Eito keeps talking, hysterical, as blood pours from the wide open gash in his stomach, but the Eito of the present doesn't even process his deranged rambling. He's too absorbed in the expression on Takumi's face as he absorbs his Hemoanima, taking Eito's strength as his own, staking his claim and making them one. Two parts of one whole.
Up until this moment, Eito never realized the extent of just how much his betrayal devastated Takumi. It's been so easy to remove himself from it because here, his plan never made it that far. Not even close. Takumi had told him, yes, but hearing about what he did is one thing and seeing it play out before his eyes is another.
Not only that, but the idea and image of Takumi taking Eito's Hemoanima within him has Eito trembling all over again, breath hot against Takumi's ear as another needy moan unfurls from his throat. It is so, so perverse and so arousing it feels as though his entire body is a bow pulled taut. Unconsciously, his knee grinds against Takumi's thigh, entire body pressed up against his, flattening him against the side of the coffin. ]
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Aotsuki?
[ takumi can't see eito's expression like this, but he figures there's been some sort of recovery from the way his hand resumes fondling him. no longer harshly squeezing, those gloved fingertips carefully explore takumi's innermost self; they brush against where he believes his heart is, stroking, gently pressing and kneading. each small instance of pressure sends a wanton pang between takumi's legs, and he can't contain his groan. his forehead ends up falling forward to settle on eito's front, panting.
...shit. takumi's teeth clench, and he sends up a silent prayer to whoever is out there.
Don't let him notice.
notice what? the stiffness stretching the material of his class armor, obviously. he hates the fact he's getting off to this—being manhandled and used. ]
You— [ he swallows thickly. ] You saw it, too, didn't you?
[ a glimpse of something beyond the both of them. ]
Answer me.
[ takumi lifts his leg upwards to grind into eito's groin. he doesn't know why he does it; it's purely instinct. his hand, meanwhile, sinks in deep enough he caresses the back of eito's ribcage. ]
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[ It's meant to be an answer to the question, but the word slips past his lips in a pleased, breathy gasp as Takumi's leg presses into his groin, hoping the encouragement will coax Takumi into doing that again, as instinctual as it was.
The only reason he doesn't notice the stiffness between Takumi's legs is because Eito's own predicament is looming, unbearable heat surging between his thighs.
Eito was already beginning to feel dizzy with need, but when Takumi reaches that far in, further them either of them have reached up until this second, it almost makes his knees buckle. The moan dragged out of him is so high-pitched and indecent Eito wouldn't believe it came from him if he wasn't so lost in Takumi's hand caressing his sternum. His own hand, the one inside Takumi, stills completely, curled fingers pausing their movements as his hips roll against Takumi's, seeking more contact.
Now that he's seen the real, genuine image of Takumi, his senses are going haywire. His sight is the same, nothing is fixed, but he can form an actual image in his head. A hand fondling his core, a knee pressed up against his thigh. Human limbs, red hair grazing his cheek, a sloped neck.
What the hell is happening. ]
I saw—[ he swallows thickly, gasping for air. ]—you. Us. Everything, all at once.
[ Finally, Eito lifts his head to meet Takumi's gaze, eyes half-lidded. Right now, just looking at him feels intimate, makes Eito feel so vulnerable he would gag if he wasn't so swept up in... whatever they have going on. ]
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oh.
they're—they're really doing this. this is what it's come to.
red-faced, eito will see that takumi's expression is both pensive and thoroughly flustered upon locking eyes. though, that'll last for just a brief second or two before takumi averts his gaze to the side, the tips of his ears visibly pink. ]
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takumi's eyes flicker back to eito's face, and then his brows furrow. he shifts a bit closer. ]
You should understand how I feel now.
[ he proceeds to drag his fingertips over and along the back wall of eito's ribs, caressing them individually as if admiring fragile glass. they contract with each breath and remind takumi that it was his decision to allow eito to live. eito exists because of him. taken by that thought, takumi draws his hand back to gently knead the familiar, pulsing organ within eito's left breast.
strange imagery flashes in takumi's mind—of dark shades, an eito that follows him around and responds happily each time takumi takes him by the hand. dazzling as he may be, he is interrupted by a scene consisting of eito at takumi's feet, bloodied and smiling and gentle, voice delicate as he murmurs a confession of love. then, he goes completely still, and takumi—he reaches out to absorb eito's hemoanima a second time. eito's warmth floods his body and gives him the strength to continue.
...although takumi has no recollection of this happening, it resonates with him.
he huffs to himself and finally moves, deliberately grinding his leg against eito with the knowledge they can't come back from this. takumi's voice takes on a thin, rough edge when he speaks, feeling out eito's arousal as he does. ]
Idiot. Say my name again.
[ why does it sound more like a plea? ]
I'll give you what you want.
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... You're the idiot.
[ Eito huffs, dragging his fingers out of Takumi's hole once more, ghosting them along the rim on their way out. Eito draws his hand back and holds two gloved fingers up in front of his face, a string of that sticky substance clinging to the pads of them. He narrows his eyes, examining the fluid for a few seconds before lowering his palm and pressing it to one of Takumi's hips. He has to reach down to do so, compensating for Takumi's shorter stature. ]
How could you presume to know what I want?
[ Though his arousal is, by now, painfully obvious, the last shreds of pride and sanity he's still clinging to won't allow him to so easily admit that he wants this, whatever this entails—that he wants Takumi, every single part of him, no matter how hideous. ]
I'm afraid you'll have to try harder than that.
[ Then, Eito responds with his body in kind, hips stuttering against Takumi's leg again. His other hand, the one that isn't sticky, grasps the collar of Takumi's class armor and gives it a sharp, harsh tug until their faces are closer than ever, close enough to be well within kissing distance.
Clumsily, Eito surges forward, bridging the miniscule gap between them.
What will change between them, after this? And even more pressing of a question, what won't? ]
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any protest that takumi would like to make afterwards unfortunately dies in his throat once eito tugs him forward, lips nearing his, so, so close, and hips pressed snugly to his thigh. ]
Aotsuki—
[ but eito does it—he crosses the final line.
takumi's stern features flicker a second after their lips meet. he shudders, gasping and shoulders tensing, the downward slant of his brows quickly upturning. but—he doesn't resist. rather, takumi soon growls low in his throat and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. eito might be mortified later, but whatever. who cares. he can puke in the safety of his room if he wants to; right now, takumi is determined to stay on level footing. ]
Say it, [ he mumbles into eito's mouth, breathless and unintentionally needy. ] I know you better than you think I do.
[ his free hand settles on one trim hip, nudging eito closer so that their lower bodies are better aligned. and ignoring his own shamelessness, takumi presses his clothed cock against eito's. not enough to stimulate, not enough to feel genuine pleasure from it, but for eito to know and understand what he could be getting if he obeyed. ]
Stop being difficult.
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And he's making it for Eito. The knowledge is dizzying, almost too much to think about in this moment. ]
You can't—you can't make me.
[ Just as breathless, his response is murmured into Takumi's mouth before he nudges at his lower lip with his teeth. Now he just sounds petulant and childish, but if there is one thing Aotsuki Eito excels at, it's being difficult.
Without reservation, the hand at Takumi's hip tightens its grasp, gripping hard before sliding around to the underside of his thigh and hiking his leg up until it wraps around Eito's waist. The motion of it is a little clumsy, but would be much clumsier if their bodies weren't surging with strength from their Hemoanima. Eito could lift Takumi up, if he wanted to. Takumi could—could wrap his legs around his waist, and Eito could carry him, press him against the hard surface and draw out even more interesting sounds from him. He could overwhelm him, completely and utterly, until Takumi has no choice but to succumb to it, to call out his name.
Perhaps that fantasy shouldn't be as arousing as it is, but when he envisions it, when he pictures Takumi as the handsome, attractive person he is, a fresh wave of pure, shameless want nearly drowns him. ]
huge dog lays on tiny kitten gif here
[ takumi's small nose wrinkles in dismay, peering up at eito with a mixture of heated arousal and irritation. it sucks, but eito unfortunately has mass on side; he can manhandle takumi effortlessly, and it's already apparent from how he hikes up takumi's leg to press more firmly against his core. if takumi weren't so annoyed, he'd recoil and fluster at the fact he can feel their size difference even there—a place he has chosen not to think too hard about before this.
his hand retracts from eito's hip to push at his chest in a display of defiance. this allows some distance between their faces, as well as a view of takumi's ruddy lips. ]
Back off, then. I won't let you touch me if you won't be honest with me.
[ he squirms in eito's grasp in an attempt to wriggle away, which... does cause some of that much needed friction. a vulnerable noise escapes takumi because of it, but he quickly follows it up with another weak shove. he also pulls his hand free of eito's cavity; it's just as wet and sticky. ]
so threatening... so tough...
[ The too-abrupt loss of the warm sensation of Takumi's hand in his chest combined with the shove has Eito reaching for Takumi pathetically. There's a wounded look coloring his features, and then seconds later, something more sheepish. ]
Ha... Looks like I said it. But that won't be good enough for you, will it?
[ Even knowing he has the upper hand here and could literally do anything he wanted, Eito heaves a resigned sigh in the face of Takumi's defiance. After all, that's part of what he loves about him. ]
Ta-ku-mi-kun. [ In an obnoxious, singsong voice, before his expression straightens. ] You have to know this isn't easy for me... Sharing my feelings, that is. Forgive me?
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...this position is ridiculous, by the way. the foot takumi still has planted on the ground is just about balancing on his toes, his weight essentially being carried by eito instead. ]
Don't ask for forgiveness now. Your dick is pressing against me.
[ only takumi's sulkiness gives him the confidence to bluntly state the obvious.
he swallows and relaxes in eito's grip. ]
Say my name and tell me when it feels good. [ his cheeks color. ] Do it properly or—or I won't kiss you.
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Ah, so you noticed. How attentive of you.
[ It is ridiculous. Eito might as well just carry him for real, but—for now, he rubs a soothing, apologetic circle into the underside of Takumi's thigh before guiding his leg back down. There. Now, Takumi can guide them into any position he wants, if he so chooses. ]
... I'll be good, Takumi-kun. Promise.
[ A beat passes, and then: ]
Kissing you isn't nearly as disgusting as I imagined it would be.
[ Did he just give himself away...? That's supposed to be more Takumi's thing, isn't it? Oh, well. There's a high chance that he will be puking his guts out later, but it's not something Eito is thinking about at all right now. Right now, all he does is chase Takumi's lips, kissing him again—gentler, this time, even chaste. As a treat. ]
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overstimulated from literally everything that's happened, eito's gentle touch causes takumi to shiver. his foot is then carefully lowered to the floor and he regains his balance. their proper height difference is reestablished this way, with eito towering over him again. that smirk doesn't help. ]
Glad to know I'm not that gross, I guess.
[ the glower takumi gives eito before being kissed is half-hearted at best. he just breathes out through his nose and leans up a little to ease some of eito's strain, settling his sullied against over the jagged edge exposing eito's soul. his other hand, however...
...travels lower and hesitantly palms the stiff material between eito's legs. takumi can feel distinct heat. it's kind of dizzying.
suddenly feverish, he parts from eito's lips and lowers his chin. ]
You like saying that, huh? [ takumi speaks unwittingly. ] Do you want me to call you a 'good boy', Aotsuki?
[ because for whatever reason, that's a phrase that eito likes spouting off. ]
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help
😭 takumi is so kind...
guy that would hold your hair for you while you throw up ❤️
he's literally nice ❤️
HE'S LITERALLY NICE!!!
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they released me from my enclosure so it's time to misbehave!!!!!
hell yeah
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:)
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2/2 moe attack
(staggers backward) OUGH
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eito moe nuke
OOGH
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guy who says 'tch...' in bed
MOE......
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