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Slow awareness descended on Inumaki in stages: first of loss, like he had held too much of himself on his left and was now bereft, off-balance, a large gap through which he was leaking out- not sure if he could patch up the hole, not sure if he wanted to. The second was of a sort of gain- a warm weight resting half on his belly as familiar as the contours of his own muscles and the shapes of words his tongue was never allowed to form, but with it, a gain of grief, of shame and intense prayer for the dissipating tendrils of unconsciousness to return. He felt the short timer on his clock of pretense end even before the anxiety had managed to fully blanket him. Too soon.
“Toge,” Okkotsu’s voice was whisper soft, but strong. Inumaki felt his breath curl over his abdomen like it had so many times before in the smudged memories of late evenings in their dorm rooms and he suddenly wished for two summers ago- Okkotsu on two coltish legs with too much uncontrolled cursed energy sputtering over his nervous hands, voice cracking and wrecking through his body still growing into the space it was meant to occupy. He wished for two arms back, gripping both of Okkotsu’s hands in his own whenever he could as if by pressing their whole palms together he could fool himself that he was large enough to hold all of this boy slowly learning how to love again and somehow never let him fall.
“Toge.” Softer voice, a rustle of movement and then, a firm press of lips against his hip. Inumaki was half empty and too weak to be loved by the vast, ever-expanding universe of the boy calling to him. Too trifling to love the inferno patiently waiting at his bedside. He turned his head away from Okkotsu, away from his missing side, eyes refusing to open, but his remaining hand found itself tangling into the soft tresses spilling onto his stomach anyway. Okkotsu sighed at the gesture, sweet and comforted and Inumaki’s heart squeezed tighter in his chest.
“Toge,” Okkotsu was nudging his face into Inumaki’s hip, careful not to dislodge the fingers in his hair, giving him no other choice than opening his eyes. Of course, he knew Okkotsu had grown- taller and broader during his time abroad, but the difference between their statures was much different in real life than through a screen. The comfortable way that the bulk of Okkotsu’s body inhabited the room, his spine curving to situate his head gently on Inumaki, his hands resting on the edge of the bed was so beautiful and Inumaki wanted all of him, wanted to be swallowed whole so he didn’t have to look at those big eyes staring up at him, so open just for him. He didn’t deserve any of this with a station full of corpses hanging an albatross around his neck but Okkotsu was calling his name again before he could turn away.
“Tadaiima, Toge,” Okkotsu was smiling soft and happy up at him and suddenly, Inumaki couldn’t take it. I’m home. The want and the sickness roiling under his skin, he wanted to rip away all his skin and leap out the window- finish what Sukuna hadn’t managed to. But here was Okkotsu, face still calm even though it had lost the smile. They had long since learned to read each other like picture books, every sentence hidden in a slight twitch of an eyebrow, every emotion in the length of a blink, gestures that would mean nothing to the world and everything to each other but Inumaki knew Okkotsu didn’t even need this to read everything flashing on his face right now. Why me? I’m not worth it, I’m not worth you. I’m alive when it should’ve been the hundred people that died instead. I am only the crumbs Death spit out after he had had his fill.
“Hey, are you gonna leave me hanging?” The small smile was back on Okkotsu’s face and Inumaki could read in between the lines, knew the real question was, are you gonna leave me too? and how could he when the only thing stopping from the despair swallowing him whole was his love for Okkotsu? Inumaki also knew the question wasn’t about any anxiety Okkotsu might have had surrounding Inumaki’s love for him- the calmness on Okkotsu’s face said as much. No, this was a twisted display of Okkotsu’s love for him. Almost a manipulation to make Inumaki face how entirely tied he was to this dark-haired boy. Okkotsu, carrying the greatest tragedy on a ring on his finger and still willing to lay his heart, the entire bleeding mess of it at Inumaki’s feet. No more was the fumbling teenager that had left Inumaki with a shy kiss a year ago. Instead, Okkotsu was now the powerful sorcerer he was meant to be and yet, he still loved just as fiercely and intensely. Inumaki wanted to sob in the face of this boy who could create an incredibly dangerous curse with his ability to love now handing over his love to whatever was left of Inumaki willingly.
“Salmon,” Inumaki finally relented, his voice hoarse with disuse. Welcome home. His fingers scrubbed across Okkotsu’s hair roughly before he moved it to tap against his bed in a silent request. Okkotsu pressed another kiss to Inumaki’s hip before sitting up and pressing the button to raise the upper half of the hospital bed. Inumaki’s heart clenched again at the display of easy understanding that had carried through the year they had been apart.
Okkotsu leaned towards Inumaki once the latter was in a more upright position, moving his left arm over to tangle with the smaller boy’s hand that was resting on the bed. The other hand moved to gently brush over the curse sealing bandages covering the stump that was left of Inumaki’s left arm. Inumaki tensed at the touch and tried to move away when Okkotsu’s lips followed his fingers. Okkotsu looked up, his eyes slightly curious but entirely undeterred by Inumaki’s response.
“ Tuna mayo-”
Okkotsu’s exploring fingers slipped under the bandages and slowly unravelled to reveal the heavily scarred skin underneath, his eyes still on Inumaki, his face transparent as always. I’m only for you, all of you. You are alive and that is all I need and that is all it takes for you to be beautiful. Inumaki’s hand squeezed painfully around the one holding it when Okkotsu firmly pressed his lips against the ruined landscape of his shoulder, kissing the scars once, twice, thrice, before moving up Inumaki’s collarbone, kissing the side of his neck and then his jaw, and finally, the curse seals on his cheeks. He moved up slightly to press his forehead against Inumaki’s and Inumaki squeezed his eyes shut refusing to look at him.
“Thank you for staying alive,” Okkotsu whispered, kissing at the corner of Inumaki’s mouth. Inumaki turned his head, desperate, seeking out the touch of their lips but Okkotsu moved away, forcing Inumaki to open his eyes in question.
“Tell me what you want, Toge.”
And here it was. Okkotsu’s mean games of love. Here was the love cursed boy asking him again to curse him with his words in some twisted weird of wanting to possess all of Inumaki. Inumaki grieved again the burden of a world they had both been born into. All of 17 years old and already so old, grasping miserably at the minuscule amount of time allotted to all of them, fickle and tempestuous time- with no guarantees. Inumaki thought again of how they could’ve been just two normal high school boys, sneaking kisses on rooftops, wearing yukatas to festivals in the summer, watching fireworks lazily with the promise of decades stretching in front of them with time winding long and slow, and Inumaki would’ve fretted over confessing his love for months; they would’ve had all the teenage wonders of slow, shy touches, hesitating kisses, more Christmases than they knew what to do with, they would’ve had time. Instead, they were now just two young boys so in love and in the middle of a war they didn’t ask for, its jaws huge and full of sharp teeth, no time for the slow blossoming of courtship through its seasons. So, Inumaki gave in- stopped fighting to take back his wounded heart from Okkotsu’s grip and let him have everything that Inumaki was. Completely.
“Yuuta, kiss me,” Inumaki answered and felt the curse energy flow out of him and blanket Okkotsu with no resistance and his chest felt tight for an entirely different reason than all the anxieties until now. Inumaki was well aware of what the lack of resistance to his curse energy meant just like he knew Okkotsu was strong enough to tear out his throat with his resistance if he wanted to, making his fight with Hanami look like child’s play. Okkotsu moved with easy grace to slot his lips against Inumaki and for the first time all year, Inumaki stopped thinking. His brain fell silent except for the warmth tingling from where their lips connected and the love he felt aching through every pore of his body. Inumaki let his lips part with a sigh when Okkotsu gently slipped his tongue against the seam of his mouth. He loved kissing Okkotsu, loved how the older boy kissed with his whole body, an intense focus whether the kiss was gentle or harsh. It made Inumaki melt and burn at the same time. He missed this. He missed him.
Okkotsu broke away, leaving Inumaki’s lips swollen and red. Inumaki turned his head slightly into the hand that cupped his cheek without opening his eyes, relying on memory alone to press a kiss to the ring on Okkotsu’s hand in greeting. Thank you for letting him come back to me, he thought silently, pressing his lips to the cold metal again before Okkotsu moved back to press their mouths together again briefly.
“I love you,” Okkotsu said when he pulled back this time.
“Shake,” Inumaki replied easily this time, the corner of his eyes crinkling in a small smile. I love you.
Okkotsu let out a heavy breath, slumping down to press his face against Inumaki’s stomach again, his arms wrapping around the smaller boy’s body, snuggling in more when Inumaki scratched at his scalp just like he liked it.
“I stabbed that bastard for you, don’t worry,” Okkotsu said without moving his head, not even trying to mask the edge of satisfaction in his voice. Inumaki gasped in shock, fisting his hand in Okkotsu’s hair to tug at it harshly.
“Okaka!” he said outraged, suddenly full of fear.
“Ow, ow! He’s not dead, he’s fine!” Okkotsu protested trying to loosen Inumaki’s hold on his hair, pouting up at his boyfriend. “I stabbed him and brought him back to life! It was all to fool the Elders anyway and it was all Gojo sensei’s idea!” Okkotsu looked so young like this that Inumaki was struck by the hilarity of a sorcerer that could send special grade curses running, begging for mercy from a one-armed boy. Who was he to tell Yuuta how to love with the short lives they had? Who was he to deny anything in the world to the grasping hands of this greedy boy that deserved the universe? Inumaki released his grip, slapping Okkotsu upside the head half-heartedly. If he was going to drown in the quicksand of his lover’s dangerous greed, then so be it.
“Tuna Mayo, shake,” Inumaki scolded but there was no heat in his voice. Okkotsu laughed and the dark circles around his eyes seemed to lift a little.
“Okay, maybe it was a bit personal and I didn’t have to beat him up before-” he backtracked quickly, still laughing when he caught the expression on Inumaki’s face. “Only a little! I beat him up only a little, he wasn’t even properly hurt, I swear-” Inumaki couldn’t resist pulling him up to kiss him again and cutting off his words. He tapped twice on Okkotsu’s cheek pulling back a little to glare at him.
“Yes, yes, I’ll apologise,” Okkotsu rushed, leaning back down to return to the kiss. Inumaki let him.
If this was the only way for them to be young and in love, then Inumaki would take it for all it was worth whether he deserved it or not.