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The manner in which Atsushi’s black tie slid down limply around his neck brought to mind the image of a noose haphazardly being unstrung from the neck of a dead man by the trembling hands of a loved one, and Dazai couldn’t help but chuckle at the comparison he’d made to such a mundane act, bordering on ritualistic in its monotony. Any excitement Dazai would’ve gotten from something so trivial should’ve died ages ago, carried into the sky as flecks of ash and wisps of gray smoke along with the charred remains of someone’s black coat worn cast haphazardly over his shoulders.
“Ah...Dazai...” A soft gasp tumbled from Atsushi’s lips as Dazai’s nimble fingers brushed lightly over the flushed skin of his collarbones, pulling Dazai back to reality.
“Beautiful...” Dazai breathed. Atsushi’s porcelain skin and small, slender frame was nothing if not reminiscent of a delicate porcelain doll.
Dazai’s well-trained hands snaked down his partner’s chest, fumbling with the buttons blocking his access to the tender skin of Atsushi’s chest just below.
Atsushi shifted uncomfortably in place, cheeks hot with embarrassment as Dazai slowly, teasingly, tantalizingly undressing him both visually and physically, lips curved upwards into a devilish smirk.
“W-Wait, Dazai...” Atsushi grasped Dazai’s wrist in his gloved hand. Concern, shame, embarrassment, and sadness filled his dual-colored eyes in a cloud of dismal dyscrasia, pale afternoon sunlight scattering across their glazed-over surfaces as he blinked furiously in a vain attempt to defend against the oncoming siege of tears threatening to spill over at any second.
An electric shudder crept up Dazai’s spine as he locked eyes with the terrified and traumatized child from Atsushi’s younger years, bruises and violet contusions lining his round, pallid cheeks, eyes brimming with tears.
“Atsushi?”
“Sorry....I just...” Blank eyes stared down at his half-unbuttoned shirt, white fabric slack as it bunched around his waist.
“What’s wrong?” Dazai’s hand came to rest atop Atsushi’s knee, surprisingly delicate for a man whose hands were soaked in blood drawn over senseless so-called ‘morals’.
Funny how things could change so much in so little time, even something as complex as a human being could up and change their life in an instant if they so desired.
Perhaps that concept was the thing that separated humans from mere beasts—the ability to change one’s entire being at whim.
“I...I don’t want you to look...” Atsushi’s voice barely rose above a murmur as he cast his gaze towards the far window.
“Why?”
Atsushi felt his blood turn to ice in his veins, heart pounding painfully against his ribs. He hadn’t the faintest idea as to why that question sent such a wave of terror coursing through him, merely that it unsettled him in a way he hadn’t been since childhood. Sharp needles of tension buried themselves in his chest, a twisting, writhing feeling of apprehension sinking into his stomach, bringing with it memories of the similar nauseous churning that built up inside his stomach upon believing he’d be hit.
‘Why?’
Swallowing thickly, Atsushi opened his mouth to speak. Instead, he only finding the words trapped in his lungs, burning as they clawed at his larynx in a desperate bid to escape, to be freed from their prison.
“My scars...” was all that he could muster, the words stumbling drunkenly from between his lips, struggling to find their footing in the tense air hanging like a curtain between the two.
“Your scars?” Dazai raised an eyebrow, pausing for a moment too long as he searched for words to remedy the situation at hand.
“I know you wouldn’t want to see them. They’re really disgusting.” Atsushi’s voice shook as he spoke, desperate to conceal the burning shame writhing beneath his skin like a deadly poison, destroying his mind and body bit by bit.
“I’m sure they’re fine. Besides...” Dazai started, smile unfaltering as ever.
“I have them all over, probably worse than yours,” he nodded casually as he spoke, shrugging off his jacket and casting it aside onto the floor, “they’re so bad that I had to cover them, since people stared when I appeared in public.” He laughed almost bitterly, tossing his vest and tie aside beneath Atsushi’s curious, wandering eyes, which eagerly took in the view before him.
“I don’t have anything to lose by showing you, I guess. If we’re going to be together, you should see all of me. Even the ugly parts.” Atsushi suddenly sounded determined, as if a switch had been flipped in his brain that gave him newfound confidence.
However, his self-consciousness induced hesitance still shone through as he shyly undressed, hands shaking as he moved to undo the final few buttons that concealed a duo of large, parallel scars which ran up his left torso and protruded out onto the thin layer of skin over his ribcage.
“I’ll show you mine too~” Dazai’s voice came like a song as he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his bandaged torso. White gauze fell in crisscrossing lines like crime scene tape across Dazai’s chest and stomach. He paused for a moment, looking down at himself before, in a streak of rather uncharacteristic cautiousness, busying himself with unraveling the bandages that covered almost the whole upper half of his body. Atsushi looked on curiously as Dazai began with his left arm, unwrapping it as if it were some kind of precious ancient artifact.
“I’m going to take off my shirt now, but...I’m warning you beforehand that they’re burn scars, so—“ before Atsushi could finish, Dazai cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“I’ve seen people murdered and tortured in more ways than you could ever think of. Minor burn scars aren’t a problem.”
Atsushi nodded, removing his shirt entirely as he fought back the urge to cover himself, shame painting a dark blush across his cheeks.
Dazai’s eyes widened, but not in sadness or anger or disgust, rather, they filled with a mischievous dancing flame of lust and want. He looked as though he were a cat stalking a mouse, ready to pounce on his ‘prey’ at any second.
“You’re perfect...” Dazai’s calloused hands came to rest on either side of his hips, Atsushi squirming a bit beneath the feather-light touches. Dazai cocked his head curiously as he examined the scars. Two wide canyons running parallel to one another scored the milky white flesh below, a deep red towards the center which faded into a softer pink, blotchy and uneven. A darker red line reminiscent of a river that had carved itself through rock punctuated the center of either scar, the skin stretched especially thin in that area; likely where whatever apparatus inflicted the scars had burned him the deepest. A dull ache infested Dazai’s heart at the thought of someone inflicting such an ugly wound on a child. He’d seen far worse, sure, but...seeing it in such a vivid, personal manner and knowing it had been perpetrated against Atsushi, sweet and naïve adorable Atsushi, especially when he’d been but a young boy yearning to be loved, it brought forth a visceral anger which Dazai had kept buried inside him.
“If you don’t mind me asking...how’d you get burned?” Dazai cooed, breath warm against Atsushi’s stomach.
“Fire poker. Don’t remember what I did, but...” A shudder crept up Atsushi’s spine.
Dazai’s lips pressed into a tight, thin frown upon hearing Atsushi’s reply. An uncomfortable, tense pause hung between the two for a moment as Dazai unwrapped his right arm, tugging off the last of the bandages to reveal the skin beneath. Countless scars littered his arms in white faded lines, interspersed with countless other marks from causes that Atsushi had no knowledge of.
Dazai glanced up at Atsushi, resting his arm palm up against his partner’s clothed leg. “I used to cut myself, and I tried slitting my wrists multiple times because of how badly I wanted to die,” he began with a soft, defeated sigh as he got to removing the bandages that encased his left arm.
Atsushi stared in disbelief at the countless scars that littered Dazai’s arm, shifting his gaze down to his partner’s face. Dazai’s expression filled him with an inexplicable terror, the same as he’d felt earlier.
“You’re the only one who I’ve shown, besides Odasaku.”
“If you don’t want to see the rest, I understand.” Dazai sounded uncharacteristically sad, as if he’d carried the weight of the world on his shoulders for a lifetime.
“I...I want to see, if that’s okay. I love you, and I want...” Atsushi swallowed thickly, cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“I want to see all of you. Even the parts you don’t like, because...I love them.” Atsushi’s voice shook as he spoke, but his sincerity came through clear as a warm, cloudless sky of a Yokohama summer.
A single tear streaked down Dazai’s cheek, shimmering golden beneath the bedroom light as he unbuckled his belt, Atsushi mirroring his motions with shaking hands.
“Need some help?” Atsushi slid out of his pants and tossed them aside, kneeling down beside his partner with a kind smile, gentle hands now ungloved.
Dazai nodded, a wide grin plastered across his face. Atsushi’s small hand rested against Dazai’s shoulder, sending a soft warmth spreading through him.
“I never thought you’d be the one undressing me,” Dazai joked, Atsushi laughing sheepishly in response.
“Me either.”
“I’m...I’m okay with it.” Dazai leaned into Atsushi’s gentle touch as the other slowly unwrapped the bandages encircling his chest in a surprisingly intimate gesture.
Atsushi hummed in response, mostly having lost himself in the task at hand. Just one of the many perks of being autistic.
He looked so cute, focused intently on removing Dazai’s bandages.
“Hey, Atsushi,” Dazai murmured.
Atsushi glanced up at him.
“Can I kiss you?” He smirked, placing his hand atop his partner’s. Atsushi’s cheeks immediately grew hot again, but he gave a silent nod in agreement to letting Dazai kiss him.
“Are you sure?” Dazai questioned, cocking his head to the side.
He had to take things slow with Atsushi.
“I’m sure.”
Atsushi sounds much more confident this time, more confident than Dazai had ever heard until this moment.
The two really did bring out the best in one another.