Up in Smoke: A Heisei Kumi fanfic (32/36)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Hikato, Chiitaro, Ariyama
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Minor Character Death, Strong Language, Explicit Sex, Major Character Death
Genre: Slice of life/Angst
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone.
Summary: After months of peace an attack leaves the Heisei Kumi reeling, and when an old enemy returns to the area reclaiming that peace starts to feel impossible.
A/N: The next installment in my Heisei Kumi AU, this one starts in the last days of December 2016 and continues on into 2017. If you'd like to read the other stories in this AU, please check out my masterlist. All Heisei Kumi fics have 平成組 next to their titles, to mark them as part of the AU!
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31
It was a little after four in the morning when Hikaru and Keito left Yabu’s side, Keito drooping with exhaustion, completely wrung out. They stood on the landing at the top of the stairs for a few long moments, and it was then that he realized Hikaru had started trembling, and Keito reached for his hand, pulling back sharply when he felt the bandages under his fingertips, the tactile reminder of his boyfriend’s injuries. Instead he turned, moving so he was behind Hikaru, and wrapped his arms around the older man, pulling him close so that Keito’s chest was firmly against his back, and his head was on Hikaru’s shoulder, and he tried for a few moments to find words that Hikaru needed to hear. In the end, it was Hikaru that spoke first
“I’m just-I’m just so glad he’s awake.” Keito nodded, and Hikaru’s shoulders slumped even more, leaning back into Keito’s touch. “I-I…” Words seemed to be failing him too, and Keito pressed his face into Hikaru’s neck, cringing a little when he inhaled and all he could really smell was smoke.
“Shower and bed?” He offered quietly, too tired to really form complicated sentences, and Hikaru nodded, taking a step forward, Keito’s arms dropping to his sides, and they went down the stairs in silence, Keito wordlessly stepping forward once they reached the Kumi-cho’s quarters, opening all of the doors, and turning on the shower before turning to Hikaru and reaching for his tie. Hikaru sighed, hands coming up to get at it himself but Keito shook his head, murmuring “They hurt don’t they? Using them isn’t going to help.” Hikaru didn’t say anything, but he let Keito undress him, Keito leaning in to press a slow kiss to Hikaru’s lips before he stepped out of his own clothes, their weapons deposited haphazardly on the counter by the sink.
Keito looked Hikaru over, knowing logically that as no one had thrown any punches Hikaru really should be fine aside from his burns, but there was a little voice in the back of his head that worried. Hikaru gave him the same treatment, asking quietly if Keito was okay, and Keito nodded, leaning in to kiss Hikaru again, and asking
“Are you ready to get in?” Hikaru just shrugged, looking about as exhausted and wrung out as Keito felt, and Keito stepped in first, the warm water instantly soothing, and he let his eyes flutter shut for a moment as Hikaru followed him into the shower, the older man just standing there, his bandaged hands tucked as far away from the spray as he could get them. The hot water was waking Keito up, refreshing in a wonderful way, and Keito felt more alert as he stepped aside and said “I’ll wash your hair, okay?” Hikaru nodded, still quiet, and he tipped his head back into the water, Keito admiring his face and the line of his throat for a moment before he reached up, running his hands through Hikaru’s hair, making sure it all got wet before he reached for the shampoo.
The shower was spent almost completely in silence, Hikaru only protesting for a moment when Keito lathered up his hands to wash Hikaru’s body, the older man blushing and shivering a little as Keito ran his fingers over every uncovered inch of skin. It was rather erotic, but Keito tried not to think about that. Hikaru was hurt, and besides, they were both so exhausted he didn’t think anything could come of it all even if they wanted to. He did place a few kisses on Hikaru’s shoulders and back, Hikaru leaning into him, the action making Keito’s chest warm with affection. By the time the shower ended Keito was feeling much more calm, all of the panic and stress he’d accumulated throughout the day having been reduced to a low buzz at the back of his mind, replaced mostly by warm exhaustion.
He dried them both off, and though Hikaru protested that it was stupid and ridiculous he helped his boyfriend brush his teeth. It wasn’t until after they were both in sweatpants, their bedtime routine finished that Keito placed one last kiss on Hikaru’s lips and said his goodnight, turning and making for the door. It was just about five in the morning now, and he was ready to curl up on the couch and sleep until dinner time. He only made it a few paces however before Hikaru called out to him, his voice startlingly needy, a tone Keito had only heard a handful of times previous as he said
“Keito, wait!” Keito turned back to see Hikaru pursing his lips, his shoulders slumped, eyes wide, and he nodded over at his bed, the request in his action clear. Keito’s chest ached. He turned back around, and closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Hikaru in a solid hug, feeling Hikaru hook his chin over his shoulder, and pressing back, despite his arms staying by his sides.
“Hikaru, you’re hurt.” Keito said lowly. “I don’t think we should share a bed tonight. We shouldn’t until your hands are starting to look better.” Hikaru froze a little at that, and it was maybe a little hypocritical, because when their positions had been reversed Hikaru had made this same decision. “I don’t want to hurt you. And it will only be for a week or two.” Keito murmured, and Hikaru pulled back, looking at him, and Keito was surprised to find that his eyes were shining with unshed tears, face just barely under control, as he said
“I know. I know, but-” Hikaru sniffed, and cursed, looking frustrated at himself for his own weakness, and the knot in Keito’s chest wound tighter. “Please.” Keito reached up, cupping Hikarus’ face, and Hikaru looked him right in the eye, and admitted “I need you tonight.” His voice was so quiet that even standing right in front of him Keito strained momentarily to hear it. The confession was said so tenderly that Keito couldn’t help but kiss him, pressing in closer, their foreheads and noses touching after the kiss broke, Keito breathing him in for a few long moments.
Realistically Keito knew he should insist Hikaru just get in bed, and a small part of him was worried about Hikaru’s hands. Hikaru had a high pain tolerance but Keito knew they had to be really hurting. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to voice those thoughts when he was looking into Hikaru’s eyes, the desperation in them reminiscent of the night of Ryutaro’s funeral-the night that Hikaru had confessed to still wanting to shoot up sometimes. And the realization of just how similar that night and this one was sent a jolt of sickening understanding through Keito’s body like an electric shock, and despite his concerns about Hikaru’s hands he found himself saying
“Okay; okay.” Hikaru let out a sigh of relief, and he leaned in, kissing Keito, before leaning against his chest for a long moment like he had in the shower. It was sweet, and comforting, and Keito breathed him in, relieved to note that he didn’t smell like smoke anymore. After some careful maneuvering they managed to curl up in Hikaru’s bed, Hikaru’s back pressed flush against Keito’s chest, Keito’s arms wrapped around Hikaru’s waist while Hikaru’s arms were pushed out away from his body, hands off the edge of the mattress so that they weren’t touching anything. Moments after settling into that position Keito crashed, the soft mattress and Hikaru’s warm body allowing his exhaustion to finally overtake him, and drag him into sleep.
Neither of them slept well, both tormented by nightmares, Ketio waking up in cold sweats, breathing heavily, his heart racing, the echoes of the screams in his ears and flames flickering behind his eyelids. It helped to wake up with his arms around Hikaru’s waist, his face buried into the back of his boyfriend’s neck. Hikaru woke a few times in the night, bursting awake with a jolt, ripping Keito from sleep, and neither of them really said anything about it, both knowing what the dreams were, and just pressing closer. Hikaru was grounding, Hikaru was comfort, and love, and home, and it was automatically relieving for Keito to be able to curl his arms a little tighter around the older man, and feel Hikaru’s heart beating under his hands.
They gave up on sleep at around noon, the both of them awake, sunlight streaming in the windows, bodies somehow simultaneously more and less rested than before they’d fallen asleep. They just lay there in bed for a while, curled up around each other, and the room was still but for the rise and fall of their chests as they breathed. It was peaceful. More peaceful than anything had been since the night before, and Keito let it wash over him, body limp and heavy and all wrapped around Hikaru. But then Hikaru shifted, rolling over so that they were face to face, and he pressed a sweet, rather sleepy kiss to Keito’s lips, his hands coming up automatically to cup Keito’s face, hovering just a few millimeters from the skin.
Instead Keito reached up with his own hand, brushing some of Hikaru’s hair away from his own face, and resting his palm against Hikaru’s warm cheek. He just looked at him for a while, Hikaru blinking and looking away, becoming a little self conscious under Keito’s gaze, but Keito let himself look for a few long moments, before leaning in and kissing Hikaru again, this kiss more focused, Keito hovering a little over Hikaru’s body, Hikaru lying back on the bed. They kissed for a few minutes, a sense hanging over them that if they didn’t get up, the world would just stop, and they could pretend that the fresh traumas of the night before were nothing.
But then Keito’s stomach growled, and Hikaru sighed, declaring that he had to pee, sitting up, and the weight of their lives came crashing down. Hikaru got up, making for the bathroom, and Keito rolled over, lying there staring at the ceiling for a minute, only standing when he heard the toilet flush, a new concern creeping into the forefront of his mind, and when Hikaru came out of the bathroom he found himself asking
“Hikaru, can I see your hands?” Hikaru nodded, immediately offering his hands for Keito, and Keito blushed a little at the unspoken blatant trust in that simple action, gesturing for Hikaru to sit on the bed before he crouched down, rather tentative as he began unwrapping Hikaru’s hands. Hikaru stayed still, unflinching as Keito worked, but Keito knew better than to think that meant he wasn’t in any pain, and so he tried to be gentle, leaning in close to see his work as he unwound the dressing from each of Hikaru’s fingers individually, the bandages crusted and moist as he got close to the skin. Hikaru’s palms were bright pink, small blisters forming along his skin, his fingers raw looking, the burns weeping, shiny and wet. Keito frowned, examining it all closely, and Hikaru didn’t move, just sitting there, letting him.
“It looks painful.” Keito said, and Hikaru shrugged, Keito leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, Hikaru conceding after Keito’s lips left his skin
“It hurts.” His eyes met Keito’s own, wide and searching, and he said “But it’s nothing I can’t handle, you know.” Keito nodded, looking down at the ugly injuries, and he murmured
“I know. I just don’t want you to have to.” Hikaru’s lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile at that, and Keito turned away, offering to rewrap Hikaru’s hands as he made to retrieve the small first aid kit they kept under the bathroom sink. The bandaging process was a long, tedious one. Keito was afraid of doing the dressing too tight, or too rough, and as a result he moved slowly, asking repeatedly if everything was okay. Hikaru was patient with him, allowing him to fret and worry. It was good to focus on Hikaru, and not on how fatigued he still felt, on the nightmares and memories that made his stomach churn. On the fear and uncertainty that were biding their time in the back of his mind, waiting for him to let down his guard.
Once Hikaru’s hands were all taken care of the two of them went out into the kitchen, Keito making them a meal while Hikaru called the hospital on his cell phone. Keito dialed the number for him, but his leader refused to allow him to hold the receiver, batting him away with a small blush dusting his cheeks at Keito’s overbearing behavior. Keito tried not to eavesdrop, and instead focus on making miso soup for the two of them. Hikaru’s phone call didn’t last long, and when it was over he joined Keito at the stove, attempting to help multiple times before Keito convinced him to just sit and wait. As Keito cooked Hikaru told him about his phone call.
The doctors had said that Takaki had made it through his first surgery just fine, and was scheduled for two more over the next two days. The hospital was giving him fluids and strong painkillers, but he was also spending a lot of time on anesthesia, and was not suitable for visitors. The news was relieving, and a little frustrating; Keito wanted to see Takaki. He knew they all did. But hearing that Takaki was getting help and going to get better was good. As they talked Keito finished cooking, taking a big bowl of soup to the table and raising the spoon up to Hikaru’s lips, offering to feed him just as he had the night before. Hikaru was less embarrassed about the feeding than he had the last time, perhaps due to the fact that they were all alone.
The meal was eaten mostly in silence, the both of them still fatigued from the long, torturous night they’d had, just drawing comfort in each other's presence and the warm food. It was almost nice, rather intimate and peaceful, in the wake of everything that had happened, and Keito tried to draw the moments out, sitting close so that their shoulders brushed, and their knees knocked when they moved. It couldn’t last however, Hikaru saying something about calling the underlings to check in just as the stillness of it all was broken at the sound of feet on the stairs. They both looked up in anticipation, separating slightly on reflex as Chinen came into the kitchen, the smaller man obviously having just woken up, his hair a mess, eyes still glassy with sleep.
Moments later there were more footsteps, Daiki emerging carrying a tray with dirty bowls and plates, the older man telling them that his husband was awake, and they’d had breakfast in bed. Both Daiki and Chinen moved around the kitchen loudly, Chinen getting himself a bowl of soup from the stove while Daiki washed the dirty dishes he’d been carrying. Their housemates immediately took seats at the table, asking Hikaru questions about Takaki, asking for news about the Wakaba, about anything new, and Keito got to his feet, their big bowl of soup empty now anyway, excusing himself.
He made his way up to the Ariokas’ bedroom, knocking lightly and hearing two voices calling for him to come in. He pushed open the door to find Yamada sitting up in bed, his body propped up on a mountain of pillows, his face a mess of bruises, one eye swollen completely shut, the other a slit on his face, His lips were busted, jawline bruised all along the left side of his face, and he had a long gash on his forehead that had been stitched up. He had been tucked into bed by someone, his blankets pulled up to his shoulders, his arms by his side, everything from his collar down hidden by fabric, but he didn’t move when Keito came in, and judging on the state of his face he had to be just barely conscious.
Yuto was sitting at the foot of his bed, his bad leg propped up on the mattress, and he’d been speaking quietly to their housemate, but when Keito came in he looked up and treated Keito to a small smile, saying
“I was just telling Yama-chan that Yabu woke up.” In response to that Yamada blinked, and treated the two of them to the barest hint of a smile. Keito sat down next to Yuto, listening as Yuto told Yamada all about how Yabu looked, and acted, and how he was going to be up and out of bed in no time. It was sweet, the way Yuto talked, as if Yamada had nothing to worry about. As if everything was going to be just fine. Yamada’s eyes fluttered shut after only a few minutes, and Keito and Yuto both stood up, Keito helping his friend hobble out of the room, the two of them in the hall when Yuto turned into Keito’s chest, wrapping his arms around Keito’s shoulders, and he asked, sounding exhausted
“Is it over now? Can we relax yet? I just...I just am so fucking tired of this bullshit. I just want everything to be okay again.” Keito hugged him back, wishing he could tell Yuto everything he wanted to hear, but all he could do was say quietly
“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”
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