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Takumi does not particularly like the taste of bile.
It’s a thought that hadn’t even occurred to him consciously, wouldn’t occur to any person who wasn’t actively sick. Something obvious, easily taken for granted.
When Eito asked him to hold his hand on the way to the cafeteria, fishing for pity with his newfound blindness, Takumi had ignored him without much of a second thought. Eito had made it fine to the cafeteria, after all, the plea had likely been some sort of prank, or powerplay, or something . Far be it from Takumi to know what was going through the guy’s head at any given time.
But it didn’t really end there. When he got rejected verbally, it seemed he just decided to stop asking and do it anyway. Little things at first, sitting just a little closer to Takumi. First an inch, then another, then close enough for their thighs to brush just that smallest bit. Takumi would look at him, and he would look nauseous but he would not stop doing it. He’d bump their shoulders together, brush their pinky fingers over each other, just really getting up close.
When he asked about it, Eito gave him a plain answer. He wanted to get used to being around others, close to them, since he was their ally now and definitely going to be living among them.
When Takumi asked why me? , he got this absolutely beatific smile in return. “You’re the only one who’s sympathetic to me, Takumi-kun. Everyone else merely tolerates me.”
He laid it on thick. It worked. He began letting Eito get closer. Lean on him, hug him, wrap an arm around his shoulders and see how long it would take him to get sick and need to leave. All done at Eito’s pace, and by his own directive. Really, Takumi was little more than a doll there, but as long as he didn’t have to put any effort in, that was also fine. It got to the point where sometimes Eito would knock at his door spontaneously and ask if they could do something.
It was one of those times, barely after the morning announcement had rung, that Eito had come up to his door asking if he could kiss him.
It sounded exactly like that first request that had begun the whole thing. Would you mind holding my hand and leading the way? Same leisurely tone, same faux-sincerity in the request, same reliance on the idea that they were comrades, and there was no need to deny him due to that. Takumi had said no, then. It was incredibly easy, he had even been forceful. Hell no.
For whatever reason, Takumi did not reject him again.
It may have been the stray bits of nervousness that he could see Eito carrying around, even though Takumi knew he was a wonderful actor. It may have been the absurdity of the request making it feel unreal. It still ended with Eito sitting on Takumi’s bed.
“You know,” Eito hummed idly, “I think we’ve made progress. I don’t feel the need to scrape your stench off as immediately as I usually would.”
“Gee, thanks.” Takumi rolled his eyes. “This is weird even for you, you know? You don’t usually… practice this stuff with someone else. You like, just do it.”
“You know I’m not like you,” Eito said. “It wouldn’t be easy for me to do something like that. I have to know if I can do it at all.”
“So, what… You don’t wanna scare whatever, uhm. Beloved? You have in the future?”
Eito’s lips thinned into somewhat of an uncomfortable expression before he replied. “If you want to put it that way, sure. That’s exactly it.”
Takumi knew better than to argue with him about something like that. If he had wanted to be honest about it, he would have been painfully blunt. Instead, he sat down next to Eito on the bed making sure to do it slowly so as to not startle and off-put his companion.
“Ready whenever you are,” he told him.
“Right,” Eito replied.
The first kiss was a chaste thing. Eito almost looked like he didn’t want to lean in, and, as purposefully as he could, he landed it on Takumi’s cheek with a little bit of help and guidance. He grimaced briefly, but it was fundamentally a contemplative expression, and he didn’t make a single objection. The second one was just as chaste and hesitant, but at least it was on the lips. Eito did not object or back out that time either.
For the third one, Takumi was the one who lead.
He tried deepening the kiss, with some success. It became deeply apparent to him incredibly quickly that he had just as little experience as Eito had, but he was grateful at least that Eito wouldn’t be able to differentiate between a good kiss and a bad kiss— it wasn’t like one would be more pleasant than the other, after all. Takumi could feel Eito’s grimace against him this time, painfully so, but he didn’t back away. Instead, he steadied himself on Takumi with a hand on his shoulder.
Takumi opened his mouth, tentatively, and Eito all but jolted against him. He wouldn’t have been surprised if that was where this ended, if Eito bolted and went over to his room to puke his metaphorical guts out, but Eito mirrored him. Haltingly, but it was an imitation.
Predictably it didn’t last long.
Eito’s brow furrowed and stayed furrowed from the discomfort, he slowed and eventually— he gagged. The movement rocked them both uncomfortably. Eito’s hand slid from Takumi’s shoulder while he made a move to get off before he could gag again, and Takumi… did not let him.
It was something he did despite himself, on complete autopilot, but both of his hands came up to hold the sides of Eito’s head, threading through his hair and keeping their lips on each other. Eito gagged once more, and again, the involuntary response shaking him more each time and getting more violent, Eito’s protests getting muffled as Takumi swallowed them all, and then—
And then there was that thought. He really didn’t like the taste of bile.
There was something savory to it, almost. It felt wrong to describe it like that, but it was the only word that fit. It was savory , though almost overpowered with an acidity that oddly didn’t make him retch as well. It burned his throat as it went down but he kept swallowing it. He held Eito by the back of the head, denied him the opportunity to back away, felt him gag against his lips once more, but he did not stop. He briefly wondered why. Some of it dripped between them, crawling from their mouths to their chins and staining their shirts from there. Takumi swallowed as much as he could, as though he were hungry, as though this wasn’t a glorified exchange of stomach acid and nothing else. He really did have to wonder why.
It’s only when Eito’s retching turns into dry heaving that Takumi let him go, and the only words out of Eito’s mouth were, “You… are… insane, Takumi-kun.” The other usual descriptors hung in the air behind that sentence; ugly, wretched, disgusting, typical Eito-isms . It wasn’t like he could deny it, though.
Eito’s sunglasses had fallen down his nose, and those eyelids he’d always kept carefully closed and hidden behind them were blown open. No eyes behind them, just a peachy red color. Takumi’s gaze got caught on it, his staring shameless when it wasn’t reciprocated. It was just so different from how Eito’s eyes had looked before, an icy cool color that projected a certain confidence and self-assuredness, solitary and strong. The warmth of the color that had stood behind it was almost cute in its vulnerability by comparison. Wait, what?
“Takumi-kun?”
Ah. He hadn’t replied.
“Um. Was that enough?” He asked, the words sounding progressively dumber as each one tumbled out of his mouth. “For your exposure stuff.”
“More than enough.” Eito nodded, aimlessly. “... Much more than enough. I’d ask about any hidden proclivities you may have, but I don’t think you’d be honest with me at all.”
“Pro—?! Shut up! You’re the one who asked!”
Eito teased him further. “So commandeering , Takumi-kun! I guess it’s only to be expected of our leader.”
Takumi sidestepped it instead of addressing it directly. “You didn’t eat anything last night?”
“Hm?” Eito’s eyebrows rose.
Takumi frowned. “Your um. There wasn’t any food in the— you know.”
“In the vomit you swallowed?” Eito finished his sentence for him. “No. I knew it would be likely I would vomit, and it’s much easier to clean when it’s just bile. That’s all.”
Considerate, though likely not for Takumi’s sake. It still made him feel like they were on the same page regarding the whole ordeal. His mind had likened their actions, tying a string between them. Eito had not eaten for Takumi’s convenience. Takumi had swallowed Eito’s vomit for Eito’s convenience. A really silly kind of unintentional teamwork, some strange selfish selflessness. He kept those thoughts and only externalized their tail end when he spoke next.
“It’s not like I liked it, you know,” Takumi started, defensively, “but that way, it was nasty for both of us, right…?”
Even without his eyes, Eito seemed to stare at him. He blinked once or twice, emptily, before laughing. “Takumi-kun, you horrid wretch!”
Takumi grumbled. “I want to remind you I’m the one helping you here.”
“By what?” Eito tilted his head at him. “Martyring yourself uselessly? I’m the defective one here— it’s none of your business to try and, what, share the burden? You’re probably thinking something sappy like that, am I wrong?”
“So what if I am? I just… thought it would be less lonely that way. Sue me.” Takumi sighed. It sounded flimsy and cliche even to him, but it was a sincere thought, even if only a post-hoc one.
Eito only giggled again. “You really are too nice, Takumi-kun.”
At least it wasn’t that same wistful tone he usually said that in. Then again, if anybody could appreciate the absurdity of the situation, it would definitely be Eito.
“You’re gonna come by tomorrow, aren’t you?” Takumi asked.
Eito nodded. “Astute observation.”
Takumi hummed. “If it makes you vomit, I don’t think you’ll ever really get used to the whole kissing thing.”
“You never know.” Eito said.
“… You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with me or something.” Takumi huffed out his own little bit of laughter. The idea sounded absurd even before he spoke it.
Eito didn’t reply to that statement. His expression gained an unreadable quality— undoubtedly more open than he had been previously, back when he had still been a traitor, and yet it still said nothing. His emotions were written clear across his face, they were just far beyond Takumi’s reach, things that were intangible. He hoped they weren’t just intangible to him, before he waved the thought away entirely.
Eito stood up, dusting himself off unnecessarily the same way he always did. Something about how filthy his room was, because of how filthy Takumi was, of course. All said lightheartedly now, but no less annoying and abnormal. A smile cracked his features when he adjusted his glasses and turned his head back to Takumi, not quite in the right direction but just close enough.
“I’ll be seeing you,” he said.
There was a quip Takumi could have replied with there, and it was likely an intentional thing on Aotsuki’s part, but he left hurriedly before that bit of banter could manifest itself. Takumi was left staring at the blank inside face of his room door. He had to get up and eat something, do things, probably nothing too productive as they waited for the end. And then, he’d see Eito again.
I’ll be seeing you. Tomorrow, then.