[team two] And All The Things We Never Said and Did
going on vacation this upcoming long weekend, so i wanted to get this out of the way. a not happy kisumai. tbc.
Any other way would have been fine, but on that first day, it’s the screaming that wakes Fujigaya, sweat plastering the blankets to his chest and back, images of bright red behind his eyelids and his throat filled with bile. He doesn’t realize that the screams are his, and that he’s still at it, not until Tamamori’s breath is in his ear, a long arm covering him in an embrace, and then Fujigaya has to get away from the bed if he doesn’t want to throw up all over it.
“Gaya?” Footsteps mean Tamamori is hurrying after him, and the paleness of his feet is in the same color family as the tiles on Fujigaya’s bathroom floor. There’s the clink of glass against ceramic, and Fujigaya blinks once, twice, eyes level with Tamamori’s knees. “Are you okay?”
Fujigaya empties out his stomach again.
Then Tamamori’s kneeling next to him, a calloused hand soothing his back, and Fujigaya wonders why he’s still retching, remembers not having anything left to vomit after last night, right there on the side of the road, with Nikaido nearly passed out and Yokoo-with blood on his shirt and pants, blood that wasn’t his, thank god-panicked like Fujigaya had never seen him before, trying to keep Nikaido from falling asleep because what if he was concussed, and Senga-
There’s a phantom wound on Fujigaya’s stomach, or maybe that’s his muscles clenching in fear. Tamamori has to coax him to drink water, obviously startled by the bizarreness of this morning’s events.
“Gaya? Gaya, what happened? Hey, stop!” Tamamori shakes him out of his stupor. Fujigaya didn’t even realize he was mumbling.
“Ken-chan,” the voice that comes out of his mouth sounds hoarse and desperate, and Tamamori must not understand because Fujigaya has to repeat himself twice.
“He’s in one of the other rooms,” Tamamori answers, still not comprehending what Senga has to do with anything.
Fujigaya shakes his head vehemently. “Accident. Nika, he and Ken-chan,” and then he has to stop, dry-heaving against the toilet.
“What?” Tamamori doesn’t know whether to be angry or worried, because this wasn’t a very nice way to wake up, but Fujigaya had been vomiting-- “did you have a nightmare? Is that it?”
Senga’s dead. What’s wrong with you?” It gets harder to swallow the bile that’s stuck in his throat, but Fujigaya presses on, angry because Tamamori seems largely unconcerned about all of this.
“What is your problem? Ken-chan’s probably sleeping, but he’s definitely not dead, I saw him and Nika go into their room last night!” Tamamori stands up, agitated. He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but Fujigaya isn’t making any sense, and it’s so early in the morning; it’s a little frustrating, especially on three hours of sleep the night before.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Fujigaya’s pushing Tamamori away. He almost trips, unsteady with the sudden motion of standing up and sprinting, but he runs outside the room to prove Tamamori wrong.
Only when he opens the door, Senga and Nikaido are along the corridor, some meters away, faces fresh from sleep and laughing at something that Fujigaya’s brain doesn’t register. Everything else goes white for a moment, the only detail sharp enough to matter being Senga, alive and rumpled and Senga’s alive he’s alive Senga Senga oh my god--
Senga, who is visibly surprised when he realizes that Fujigaya is charging towards them, looking very intense.
There’s a barely heard warning from Tamamori--who has trouble following his roommate--before Fujigaya topples over Senga and they almost fall to the floor, only Senga’s back is already to the wall when he’s half-tackled and Nikaido has to jump out of the way to avoid a Kisumai accident.
“Gaya-san…? A-are you okay?” Senga hasn’t seen Fujigaya this serious in a very long time. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he settles for awkwardly patting Fujigaya on the back. Senga looks over Fujigaya’s shoulder at Nikaido, who is looking back at them, eyes wide in surprise.
On the other hand, Fujigaya’s hands have no trouble finding themselves bunching Senga’s shirt desperately. He’s shaking, he knows, the only thing important right now the strong heartbeat against his palms, the drum of Senga’s heart constant beneath that chest.
next is yomimashou *sparkles
Any other way would have been fine, but on that first day, it’s the screaming that wakes Fujigaya, sweat plastering the blankets to his chest and back, images of bright red behind his eyelids and his throat filled with bile. He doesn’t realize that the screams are his, and that he’s still at it, not until Tamamori’s breath is in his ear, a long arm covering him in an embrace, and then Fujigaya has to get away from the bed if he doesn’t want to throw up all over it.
“Gaya?” Footsteps mean Tamamori is hurrying after him, and the paleness of his feet is in the same color family as the tiles on Fujigaya’s bathroom floor. There’s the clink of glass against ceramic, and Fujigaya blinks once, twice, eyes level with Tamamori’s knees. “Are you okay?”
Fujigaya empties out his stomach again.
Then Tamamori’s kneeling next to him, a calloused hand soothing his back, and Fujigaya wonders why he’s still retching, remembers not having anything left to vomit after last night, right there on the side of the road, with Nikaido nearly passed out and Yokoo-with blood on his shirt and pants, blood that wasn’t his, thank god-panicked like Fujigaya had never seen him before, trying to keep Nikaido from falling asleep because what if he was concussed, and Senga-
There’s a phantom wound on Fujigaya’s stomach, or maybe that’s his muscles clenching in fear. Tamamori has to coax him to drink water, obviously startled by the bizarreness of this morning’s events.
“Gaya? Gaya, what happened? Hey, stop!” Tamamori shakes him out of his stupor. Fujigaya didn’t even realize he was mumbling.
“Ken-chan,” the voice that comes out of his mouth sounds hoarse and desperate, and Tamamori must not understand because Fujigaya has to repeat himself twice.
“He’s in one of the other rooms,” Tamamori answers, still not comprehending what Senga has to do with anything.
Fujigaya shakes his head vehemently. “Accident. Nika, he and Ken-chan,” and then he has to stop, dry-heaving against the toilet.
“What?” Tamamori doesn’t know whether to be angry or worried, because this wasn’t a very nice way to wake up, but Fujigaya had been vomiting-- “did you have a nightmare? Is that it?”
Senga’s dead. What’s wrong with you?” It gets harder to swallow the bile that’s stuck in his throat, but Fujigaya presses on, angry because Tamamori seems largely unconcerned about all of this.
“What is your problem? Ken-chan’s probably sleeping, but he’s definitely not dead, I saw him and Nika go into their room last night!” Tamamori stands up, agitated. He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but Fujigaya isn’t making any sense, and it’s so early in the morning; it’s a little frustrating, especially on three hours of sleep the night before.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Fujigaya’s pushing Tamamori away. He almost trips, unsteady with the sudden motion of standing up and sprinting, but he runs outside the room to prove Tamamori wrong.
Only when he opens the door, Senga and Nikaido are along the corridor, some meters away, faces fresh from sleep and laughing at something that Fujigaya’s brain doesn’t register. Everything else goes white for a moment, the only detail sharp enough to matter being Senga, alive and rumpled and Senga’s alive he’s alive Senga Senga oh my god--
Senga, who is visibly surprised when he realizes that Fujigaya is charging towards them, looking very intense.
There’s a barely heard warning from Tamamori--who has trouble following his roommate--before Fujigaya topples over Senga and they almost fall to the floor, only Senga’s back is already to the wall when he’s half-tackled and Nikaido has to jump out of the way to avoid a Kisumai accident.
“Gaya-san…? A-are you okay?” Senga hasn’t seen Fujigaya this serious in a very long time. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he settles for awkwardly patting Fujigaya on the back. Senga looks over Fujigaya’s shoulder at Nikaido, who is looking back at them, eyes wide in surprise.
On the other hand, Fujigaya’s hands have no trouble finding themselves bunching Senga’s shirt desperately. He’s shaking, he knows, the only thing important right now the strong heartbeat against his palms, the drum of Senga’s heart constant beneath that chest.
next is yomimashou *sparkles