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Hikaru stands in front of a familiar door, a plastic bag of food containers in one hand as he buzzes the doorbell. The person who greets him by the door is someone he’s known his entire life, but not really. The face is older than what he was expecting to see, eyes with not much life behind them until he spots Hikaru behind the door.
Toshinori looks down at him with surprise, then gives him a gentle smile. “Ah, Hikaru. Come in.”
The people Hikaru meets since the day he gained consciousness had been the people he should have always known all his life. Even then, Yoshiki’s dad has felt a little strange. But it could be because he’s never had the chance to talk to him ever since he’s become Hikaru.
Toshinori steps to walk inside and leaves Hikaru to close the door behind them, already knowing that Hikaru can make himself at home. The house is a little quiet, brightened just from the sunlight from the open sliding door and Toshinori goes to take the position he was probably in before going to the door, one leg folded by the engawa with a book in his hand.
Yoshiki’s not home yet, probably. One of those rare days where he would follow his mom and sister out on weekends. Selfishly Hikaru had hoped that Yoshiki would dedicate his full time to him, or at least invite him to go along. Hikaru loves Yoshiki’s family the same way Yoshiki loves them after all. Wants to be a part of them.
“The others are out to the supermarket,” Toshinori tells him, book resting on his folded leg when he turns to look at Hikaru. “Been out for sometime, should be back in an hour or so.”
“Okay,” Hikaru says. The house is quiet again when no one talks, so much that Hikaru feels comforted by the sound from outside. Maybe that’s why Toshinori has the sliding door open. Hikaru steals a look—ah, or it could be because he was smoking.
Hikaru takes his time, taking the food containers out of the plastic and goes to keep them in the fridge, comfortable like he’s in his second home. When he turns around Toshinori is still watching him, fond and not at all unfriendly like how he imagined Yoshiki’s dad to be from how rarely Yoshiki talks about him.
“If you have time you can wait for them,” Toshinori says, patting the space beside him.
He remembers briefly, in his past-Hikaru memories, of sitting with Toshinori there. The kind smile on Toshinori’s face. He remembers Toshinori saying he thinks of Hikaru as one of his own.
But they stop short, something happening in between that made Hikaru feel a little queasy at the sight of Yoshiki’s dad. Something that Hikaru can’t jog up in his past-Hikaru memories, and he’s not really trying to in the first place. Past-Hikaru had a lot of memories Hikaru didn’t agree with, so Hikaru needs to learn things on his own.
Because he only has these hazy, broken pieces of information when he tries to think about Yoshiki’s dad. He remembers Yoshiki saying that his dad is closed off, doesn’t really smile, even. Which was strange because Hikaru can remember his grinning face, how warm he was, how especially welcoming he gets when Hikaru was around.
But the real reason Hikaru ends up walking over is because of Yoshiki—thinking how Yoshiki would want Hikaru to get along with the dad he himself can’t get along with. Hikaru only ever does anything for Yoshiki, after all.
(Or maybe because it feels a little lonely for a man to stay in the house by himself when he has a family going out together. Hikaru’s not really good at being lonely, so he thinks Toshinori‘s probably not doing good either.)
Toshinori’s voice is low and gruff, but he talks for quite a bit. He asks Hikaru how he’s been doing, asks about school, his mom, if he’s okay since the last time he went missing. They haven’t managed to talk much since Hikaru came back.
And it’s just been nice. The comfort of an older man, a dad that Hikaru has never known in his life other than past memories.
Toshinori isn’t outwardly affectionate, but he observes. His gaze just feels intense whenever he looks at Hikaru because he’s a serious adult, and if his eyes stray down Hikaru’s body instead of his face it’s only because Hikaru’s been squirming too much. It’s hot outside, and Hikaru had been switching his sitting position once in a while. Now he unfolds his legs to stretch them out, leaning back like he’s about to lay down.
“You’ve grown up so much,” Toshinori says fondly, all his attention on Hikaru now and it makes him a little embarrassed. He sits up a little taller.
Hikaru’s not grown much, really. Still one of the smaller ones in his class but he especially doesn’t feel that way over the fact that he’s… not the one growing. He merely took over what was already left of Hikaru just a couple months back.
“Still got more growing to do,” Hikaru says in response, wiggling his toes a little. “I’m gonna be taller than Yoshiki one day.”
Toshinori lets out a laugh at that statement.
“Makin’ fun of me, old man?”
Toshinori laughs a little harder at the challenging tone and Hikaru grins. So maybe Hikaru had always been close to Yoshiki’s dad. Possibly closer than Yoshiki had been these days.
“Your daddy wasn’t the biggest guy, either. But who knows, maybe you can outgrow him.”
Right, after all this is where all the familiarity stems from. Hikaru probably just reminds Yoshiki’s dad so much of his own dad. But it’s not like the feeling he gets when Yoshiki thinks about the past-Hikaru though. For once the familiarity makes him feel better. Like the memory they share brings them together.
Except, Hikaru doesn’t really miss his daddy, not like the past-Hikaru always did. There’s this longing, but it doesn’t sting as deeply as it should. Hikaru’s a monster after all, he doesn’t really get to feel things.
Maybe it’s from his silence after the mention of the man who’s long gone that Toshinori smiles bitterly to himself. “Sorry you just had to entertain this lonely old man.”
Lonely? Hikaru is familiar with that. It’s why he’s sitting here with Toshinori in the first place.
“It’s fine, I get lonely too. Yoshiki said so.” Which is why Yoshiki sticks next to him. He has to. Otherwise Hikaru wouldn’t know how to live, or to even function as a somewhat-normal-human.
“I think my kid’s lonelier than you sometimes.”
Oh. That too. Yoshiki’s not very good with people, it’s why he keeps Hikaru around because he gets lonely as well. There’s only the both of them who understands each other the most after all.
“He won’t be,” Hikaru says confidently. “Because I’m taking care of him. So you don’t have to worry about him, ojii-san.”
“That’s nice.” His voice is distant, wistful. Looking directly at Hikaru but also not really. Yoshiki’s dad is really hard to read. “Got room for one more?”
It sounds like Yoshiki’s brand of dry-humour. Saying something they want out loud but making it sound like they’re just kidding, in case the response is a bad one. The awkward half quirked up smile in their voice and all.
“I dunno,” Hikaru says. He’s not very good at lying even if it’s to comfort the other person. “I don’t got much room for anyone ‘cept him, really.”
“I see.” He doesn’t sound disappointed. There’s something there that Hikaru hasn't seemed to learn yet. Envy?
Toshinori reaches over to lay a heavy hand on his knee. It’s big, cups his entire kneecap and he pats it once, twice, and leaves it there.
It’s fine, isn’t it? He has some distant memory, something nagging at the back of his head. But Hikaru can’t recall what it is. But it’s of the man’s hand, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheek, cupping his face and—
His memory buzzes out when he feels the thumb drawing circles on his bare thigh. Was his shorts too short today? It’s a bit hot for anything longer. But the slight touch is making goosebumps rise, his hand feels rough and heavy, completely different from Yoshiki’s. The weight of an adult who knew what he wanted.
“I guess I shouldn’t be sharing with my son after all, but you don’t mind, right?”
Hikaru’s not very good at sharing if it’s with other monsters. But humans are… nice. They’re welcoming. It should be fine. It’s just Yoshiki’s dad trying to be friendly.
“I guess it’s fine, Yoshiki doesn’t get jealous,” Hikaru says, huffing a laugh. Yoshiki doesn’t seem like he cares to have a conversation with his dad much. So he probably won’t mind Hikaru being closer to his dad than he is.
“Last time you promised not to tell another soul ‘bout this. Not even Yoshiki because it’ll make him angry.” Did he? Hikaru can’t recall. It’s one of those memories that had been severed long before Hikaru even got a hold of this body. “I’m sure you won’t this time as well.”
The hand reaches higher, up to a place that Hikaru can no longer ignore, gripping the flesh of his inner thigh and pushing his shorts up.
Ah.
“I’m not sure… what you mean by that,” Hikaru tries to sit away but Toshinori turns to face him now, broad shoulders making Hikaru feel so, so small. His breathing picks up, something like a human’s animalistic nature trying to warn him of something.
Toshinori reaches to cup his face with his other hand, trying to get Hikaru to look up at him, despite his best attempt to look away.
“Ojii-san,” Hikaru chuckles halfheartedly, a fond and familiar title to call him despite how awkward he feels right now. His eyes are darting anywhere but Toshinori’s face that’s right in front of him. “This… feels a bit funny, right?”
Yoshiki is awkwardly tall but Yoshiki’s dad is properly huge. Shoulders wide and arms thick in a way he never remembers Hikaru’s own daddy was. Genes are unfair in that way.
“Yeah, s’been a while, huh?”
Hikaru doesn’t understand what he meant by that—honest. He doesn’t know what Toshinori is trying to get. Or he does, but Hikaru keeps denying it to himself.
Toshinori then leans in close enough that Hikaru can feel his breath hitting Hikaru’s jaw. He’s leaning down to Hikaru’s height, and yet he feels engulfed by the sheer size of the man.
“But Yoshiki—“
”Ah. Have you started doing it with him too? S’that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
Doing… what? Hikaru’s just been mixing with him a little. Just enough that it feels good for the both of them. Is that what Toshinori is trying to get at? Hikaru can’t lie, and his head is spinning too much to really find something to say in response.
“I see.” Toshinori grips Hikaru’s jaw in a large hand and shakes him a little as if he was a plaything. “Eveything you’ll ever do with my son, you better remember you learned it from me.”
It probably wasn’t him learning those things. It’s not him. Hikaru wishes everyone could make the distinction. Those were all their memories with the past-Hikaru, and instead Hikaru now has to re-learn everything that they expect from him. The way he has re-learned the things that feel pleasant; a sweet dessert, a good song, Yoshiki’s hand patting his head.
In turn he also has to equally re-learn the unpleasant things as well—the insecurity when Yoshiki looks away from him, the painful bruising on his body and now it’s the bitter taste of cigarettes licking into his mouth.
The body isn’t really his, but everything he feels still is. And maybe it’s because Hikaru gave a part of himself to Yoshiki, maybe it’s why he feels so weak now. The way he can experience pain and knowing that it’s not very pleasant. He wonders if that’s why humans are so scared all the time. Now he can feel prickling on his skin, something uncomfortable when Toshinori moves his mouth against his.
Hikaru wants to push him away. He wants to cover the man’s face and gouge his eyes out so he’d stop looking at Hikaru like that. Hikaru didn’t think he could even experience what fear was but this gotta be what this is. He’s scared.
Maybe it’s how the man was unrelenting, kissing him like he was trying to suffocate Hikaru—a bear of a man trying to eat him alive. Hikaru can only weakly attempt to push away at his shoulders, properly scared yet still a little unsure if he should seriously fight back. If he’s allowed to.
This was Yoshiki’s dad. If Hikaru tried anything then Yoshiki would really throw him away. He doesn’t want to be a monster, but he doesn’t want to be eaten alive like this either. The scariest part is not knowing whether he can even win against Toshinori if he even did try to fight back.
It’s all so disorienting—the kiss, the hold the man has on him. So close to being painful with how hard he’s gripping onto Hikaru. When he pulls away Hikaru desperately takes in a sharp breath, then he feels his back hit the tatami. He sees his hands shaking when he holds them above his eyes.
Panic kicks in.
He feels like he knows this—where it’s going, and how it went before. Hikaru remembers being on his back, he remembers a large body hovering on top of him, he remembers the strong, unrelenting hands around his waist, holding his thighs. He remembers choking back his sobs so much that it’s hard to breathe.
He misses Yoshiki.
“I’m… I don’t think we should—“
“It’s fine, it’ll be like old times.”
Hikaru’s next exhale is shaky, lashes a little wet. It’s like Toshinori isn’t really talking to him—not even the old Hikaru too. But just someone else entirely. It’s like he’s already lost inside his head, imagining someone he wishes Hikaru was. That feeling is familiar.
Then he remembers being small. So much smaller, and especially so under Toshinori. Hikaru remembers shaking and looking up at him in hopes that it’d get him to stop. It would get him shushed and comforted, Toshinori telling him it’s just for a little bit, he won’t do much, that this will comfort the both of them—they're the only two who can understand each other’s grief after all.
The memories flood in in broken pieces now. Hikaru feels his breathing getting increasingly shallower. like he can’t seem to get enough air in his lungs. It’s like there’s a lump stuck in his throat that stops him from talking properly either.
“Um, ‘ji-san, I dunno if I want…”
Toshinori’s sliding his hand inside the leg of his shorts. His hands are so warm, the same way Yoshiki’s are but… wrong. Hikaru doesn’t want this. He can’t voice it out. It’s not like him. Maybe this was how the actual Hikaru actually gets.
“‘Course you do,” he grunts out. “You liked it so much back then.”
Maybe Hikaru is remembering it wrongly. Maybe he’s supposed to like this.
“It’s why you always wear these loose shorts, right?”
“Uh—it’s, it’s ’cause—“
“Are you just buying time for Yoshiki to get back?”
“No,” Hikaru responds immediately. Anything but that. He doesn’t want Yoshiki to see him under Toshinori. It’s… cheating, isn’t it? Like Hikaru doesn’t like it when Yoshiki’s getting himself mixed with other creatures, in the same way Yoshiki probably wouldn’t like Hikaru getting mixed with his dad.
“Ah, imagine what he would think,” Toshinori says then with disappointment in his tone. In Hikaru, or in himself—Hikaru can’t tell. “He’s a good kid, so he wouldn’t stay mad for that long, right?”
In a moment of distress and desperation, Hikaru says, “I don’t want Yoshiki to know.”
Toshinori hums. “Then we better make this quick.”
Hikaru knows what sex is. He remembers the whole mechanics of reproducing but that’s all it really was to him. He doesn’t find it to be the most intimate thing people can do, not when Hikaru’s been mixing with Yoshiki. That’s… more. It’s better. He always thought this kind of thing doesn’t mean much.
He’s kind of rethinking it now—that maybe human’s way of intimacy is a big deal after all. Otherwise why would he feel sick to his stomach over Toshinori licking inside his mouth, Toshinori’s rough palm pressing down onto his flat stomach, and sliding up to grab at his barely there chest. A place that Hikaru’s been trying to get Yoshiki to explore, but he only does it reluctantly. Now his dad gets to fondle and touch however he pleases.
Hikaru can only hope Toshinori doesn’t put too much pressure at the centre of his body, his body might actually part under his hands.If that’s the case then—it’d be okay for Hikaru to kill him, right? His secret is out, and Toshinori would probably try to kill Hikaru too. Then it’s just self defence.
Then he wonders if Toshinori actually would kill Hikaru for it, if he’d just look at Hikaru questioningly one moment, then immediately try to fit more of his hand in. Then—then, Hikaru can’t fight back anymore. He’s kinda stuck there, if Toshinori has him in his weakest spot. He’d probably be too rough, so unlike Yoshiki, and Hikaru wonders—no. He doesn’t want to know what it would feel like. He shouldn’t. Only Yoshiki can be inside him.
“Be good,” Toshinori grunts out, snapping him out of his dazed state. But he already has Hikaru’s shorts pushed under his butt, and his hands are especially warm enclosed around his half-hard dick.
“Ji—jii-san,” Hikaru whimpers, because it’s dry and rough when Toshinori tries to stroke and he doesn’t want any of this.
“Yeah, yeah,” Toshinori huffs a laugh over Hikaru’s whining and nudges his thighs to spread further.
Are they…?
“Ojii-san, I think we should stop.”
Even if Hikaru doesn’t think that intercourse is the greatest form of intimacy but he still wants to only do these kinds of things with Yoshiki, not anyone else.
But Toshinori only looks at him with this strangely fond smile on his face. Like Hikaru is just being fussy, and not at all serious. It’s all so disorienting, being treated like a child and yet being expected to play along like an adult.
“Not in the mood today?”
The way he asks it too is so—dismissive. Like Hikaru’s just acting up for the sake of being a brat. It’s equivalent to Yoshiki sighing whenever he doesn’t listen and Hikaru would feel bad and just follow along to whatever he says after.
“It’s fine, we’ll just get you to feel good.”
But I don’t want to feel good, Hikaru tries to say, yet Toshinori leans down, breath hitting his abdomen and then down, down, right until he’s level to Hikaru’s cock. Then the realisation hits him, what’s actually happening.
“No,” Hikaru whimpers out, but Toshinori only sucks him down in a way that gets his hips to twitch and move along. It shouldn’t feel good. He doesn’t want—
Hikaru can feel himself slowly hardening inside Toshinori’s wet mouth, he can’t really do anything then, the grip Toshinori’s big hands has on him stops him from moving away, and when Toshinori starts bobbing his head Hikaru almost sobs from the feeling.
“Please,” Hikaru sobs, head tossing to the side. He’s giving weak tugs at Toshinori’s short hair but he's just relentless. “No more—“
It feels good. He likes it. He doesn’t want to like it. But his hips lift off the ground, toes curling at a harsh suck and Hikaru sobs. It feels like when Yoshiki was touching his insides. The way it makes his vision blurry and he just wants more and more.
“A-ah,” Hikaru gasps, soles pushing at the floor and he wants this feeling to stop, it’s so good he’s scared of it. He wants to chase after it, just as much as he wants to run away. “Feels—good—please, don’t wanna—“
Toshinori’s hands are painful when he grips Hikaru’s thighs and holds him down. It’s because Hikaru is thrashing too hard, he’s making it hurt more. He remembers Toshinori’s voice telling him this before. But that one felt less good, and more painful. Even if this one feels harsh, it makes his toes curl, and his thighs hug around Toshinori’s head despite his whining.
“I’m—it’s gonna come out, stop—“
Hikaru doesn’t want to. He really doesn’t want to but he spills inside Toshinori’s mouth. He’s biting the back of his hand to hold back his noises, and his hips are still twitching, bucking up mindlessly. A tear runs down his temple, and he’s shivering, still holding onto Toshinori’s short hair.
It’s the kind of pleasure Yoshiki refuses to give him. Maybe it’s because Yoshiki didn’t want him to turn into this brainless thing that only seeks for it. Yoshiki always did know best. Because Hikaru can’t recognise himself anymore. There’s zero control that he can feel in his body, just a doll to be played with by Toshinori when his legs slump to the side the moment Toshinori pulls his mouth off.
He lets the cum slide off his mouth and onto Hikaru’s thigh in a wet, hot, glob. It’s sticky and gross, and Hikaru’s face is hot from crying. His cock is softening when Toshinori mindlessly grabs it, tries to milk whatever is left of it and then it actually gets Hikaru to wince.
Something that Hikaru had recently learnt to be pleasurable is now painful. And Toshinori just keeps going even when Hikaru’s sobbing that he’s too sensitive, feet kicking, body twisting to the sides because it’s too much—please, he can’t—
His cheeks are wet from drool, tears, he can’t tell. But he’s probably too loud, voice cracking from begging. He’s loud enough to get Toshinori to stop, resting his hand on Hikaru’s quivering thigh. He’s choking on his breath then, wet lashes parting to see Toshinori’s intense attention on him. Not even at his face, but at the warmth on his thigh sliding down.
Toshinori thumbs the mess that he left there, slides it low, low, low—brings the wetness down to his perineum and Hikaru chokes back another sob. His arm is thrown over his eyes, head turned to the side and unable to even attempt to stop it anymore.
There’s a familiar pang of helplessness then, another emotion he has re-learnt. Hikaru suddenly remembers what it feels like to be a child. So familiar it feels like his own memories, enough that Hikaru unconsciously longs for the man who’s long gone.
“Otoyan…”
There’s a quiet huff from Toshinori, the kind where Hikaru can imagine a strained smile on his face for Hikaru’s desperate call for a dad that wasn’t him. “Yeah, wish he was here too.”
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