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Published:
2022-08-09
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1/1
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When we love each other.

Summary:

"... Eiji," Ash murmurs. The word tastes like a prayer on his tongue, like a holy fire that burns a sinner like Ash. Burns away everything else that he's used to tasting. "Eiji. Eiji."

"I am here, Ash."

Ash does start shaking again, and Eiji moves a little closer. Doesn't quite touch him, but it's clear that Ash can bridge the gap if he wants to.

He doesn't.

He thinks about how Eiji approached him so slowly when he hugged Ash; the way he made all of his movements clear, like he was being careful with Ash. How Ash knows that if he had flinched or pulled away—if he had even just tensed up a little, Eiji wouldn't have touched him at all.

Is that trust? Is that terrifying?

"Foxx was cruel," Ash whispers.

Salvation without redemption.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

This wasn't supposed to happen to Ash anymore.

He's supposed to be past this. He's supposed to be an adult now; he's supposed to be stronger. He can protect himself now.

Or so he thought.

Foxx is cruel. The definition of sadistic. He gets pleasure from Ash's pain. The more Ash hates it, the more Foxx loves it. Loves him. Loves Ash. Ash's body.

It's not about sex. It's never been about sex. It's about power, and showing Ash that he doesn't have any power, even now. It's about proving to Ash that he's only the same little fucktoy he's always been. It's about hurting him.

He puts on a brave face, and Foxx uses it as an excuse to try to break him. Foxx licks his own lips, then licks Ash's lips. Makes Ash scream in pain and uses the opportunity to fill his mouth. Knifeplay. Gunplay. You name it.

Nothing Ash hasn't done before.

But he thought he was past this.

Foxx shoves the barrel of his gun into Ash's mouth, clattering it against his teeth cruelly. Ash sucks, closing his eyes and dreaming about Foxx just pulling the trigger already. He hears the safety on the gun click, and almost laughs. If only Foxx knew that the sound makes Ash hopeful, not scared.

But he won't kill Ash. Ash knows that. He still has a use for him—everyone always has a use for him.

Foxx uses his knife to carve insults into Ash's thighs, pointing at his crotch.

Good thing Ash probably won't ever see Eiji again. If Eiji were ever to fuck him—to truly see Ash's body in all of its unholy beauty and scarred uncertainty—

Eiji would hate him.

Rape isn't about sex. And Ash is good for rape, but he's not good for sex. No one wants to have sex with a body that's had whore written on it a thousand different times in a hundred different ways. No one wants to sleep with a body that's been used like Ash's has.

They just want to rape him.

Ash makes a really good toy for people like Foxx. People like Dino. People who are used to getting their way—because they can just have their way with him.

Ash isn't sure how long it's been by the time Foxx takes a break from him. It felt like maybe five hours, but Ash has always struggled to have a sense of time when he's like this. Could have been less time—could have been more.

He tries to save himself, but Eiji saves him instead.

And Ash breaks down.

He's been putting up a front for so long, and he doesn't know how he's going to keep at it. And when someone reaches for him, even though it wasn't aggressive at all, Ash just ... snaps.

"Sorry," he offers. Goes to sit down. He can't do this.

He was supposed to be past this. He wasn't supposed to be the perfect little fucktoy anymore. He's not a little kid anymore; he's not that scared little raped seven year old in his coach's basement.

Why is he so scared? Why is he so fucking scared?

Eiji doesn't say a word. He knows; he knows; he knows. Everyone fucking knows. No one can look at Ash and see anything more than a Fleshlight.

Eiji hugs him.

Ash feels a little better.

— — —

They find time alone, Ash and Eiji.

Ash feels like he's about to start shaking again. Just thinking about—everything. Everything. He wonders, if he did, if Eiji would hug him again.

He hates himself for thinking that.

There's so much Ash has to do; so many people to get out of this shit that he got them tied up in. He has to ... has to keep going. He can cry or die or whatever after everyone is safe.

Eiji's looking at him.

"What is it?" Ash says, trying for a smirk. What do you see when you look at my body? he wonders.

"Just worried about you," Eiji says gently. He doesn't smile back, and—he actually looks sad. It's not pity in his expression, though; just sadness.

"Why?" Ash says. He means it to be challenging, but his fucking voice breaks.

Eiji doesn't respond. Sits next to him.

Ash swallows down a million thoughts. The inside of his mouth still tastes bitter and salty, and he still hurts—everywhere.

"I didn't mean to worry you," Ash tries instead.

"I'm always worried about you," Eiji whispers. "Because I care."

"... Eiji," Ash murmurs. The word tastes like a prayer on his tongue, like a holy fire that burns a sinner like Ash. Burns away everything else that he's used to tasting. "Eiji. Eiji."

"I am here, Ash."

Ash does start shaking again, and Eiji moves a little closer. Doesn't quite touch him, but it's clear that Ash can bridge the gap if he wants to.

He doesn't.

He thinks about how Eiji approached him so slowly when he hugged Ash; the way he made all of his movements clear, like he was being careful with Ash. How Ash knows that if he had flinched or pulled away—if he had even just tensed up a little, Eiji wouldn't have touched him at all.

Is that trust? Is that terrifying?

"Foxx was cruel," Ash whispers.

Eiji doesn't respond. He already knew, of course. He could see, written all over Ash. Literally, though Eiji didn't see that, thank god ...

"He liked hurting me." The way Ash talks to Eiji about this is so different from how he talked to Jessica. He spoke to Jess like he was trying to scare her off; he speaks to Eiji cautiously, like testing the waters.

How far until you leave me? Or until this warm water turns boiling, and you cook me alive?

"I'm sorry, Ash," Eiji mumbles. He seems like he's on the verge of tears, and Ash knows he did this to him.

He can't bring himself to stop talking. He's never wanted to say these things before.

"... I don't like being hurt," Ash whispers.

"I know."

Ash almost laughs. Does Eiji know? You'd never guess that Ash doesn't like pain, from—everything. The way people treat him, touch him, abuse him, you'd think he craves it.

But the more he hates it, the more everyone else seems to enjoy it. Ash wonders if that was the secret all along; if he enjoyed himself, maybe they'd stop.

He doesn't think he could bring himself to do that. Not with people three times his age. Not with people who would do it whether Ash wanted it or not. Whether Ash was awake or not, dead or not—they'd probably use him anyway. He's just a body to them.

Someone's gonna find a way to fuck his corpse, he just knows it. The thought almost makes him laugh; it'll be the one time he won't say no.

"... Eiji," Ash says again.

Eiji doesn't reply, but he bumps his shoulder against Ash's softly.

"... When you rape me, will you be gentle?" Ash asks.

Eiji sobs. He sobs, and he puts his head in his hands, and he still doesn't respond.

"S'okay if you're not," Ash mumbles.

"A-Ash," Eiji stammers through his tears. "Ash."

Ash thought he would be the one to cry in this conversation, not Eiji.

Eiji shakes his head frantically, still covering his face.

Is that a no, as in he won't be gentle with Ash? Or a no to something else?

"I'm sorry," Ash whispers. "I'm sorry."

"Ash," Eiji cries again, and if Ash thought Eiji's name was a prayer on his lips, he wonders how Eiji makes Ash's name sound like a full fucking hymnal.

Tell me you love me, Ash thinks distantly. If you tell me you love me, I'll tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Eiji shakes his head again. "I d-don't want anything like that, Ash," he says, but his voice is so distorted from tears that Ash can barely make out the words. Why is he so distressed?

Ash takes a shaky breath. "Please hurt me," he says. Please don't hurt me, he thinks.

"Ash," Eiji keeps saying. "Ash. Ash. Ash."

It's funny, how beautiful Ash's name sounds from his lips. There's a soft u sound at the end in Eiji's accent. Like every time he says Ash's name, he's saying you; you; you.

The only one to ever speak to Ash like he's a person.

Ash wonders how clumsy his voice would sound around the vowel intensive Japanese language. He's learned a couple phrases from Ibe, but—he wants to know everything. He wants to know every part of Eiji.

"When you rape me," Ash asks again, "will you be careful with me?"

Eiji gasps softly, and folds over so that his head is resting on his knees. He sobs harder.

Ash isn't sure what he's doing wrong.

"Ash," Eiji whispers. "Ash, please don't talk this way." His voice sounds strained and warped and painful and as hoarse as Ash's throat still feels, and Ash wants to die a little.

"What way?" Ash asks.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to ... do that. Okay?"

"It's okay if you do," Ash explains. "Like—it doesn't count, if it's me. You're still a good person."

Eiji finally sits up and looks at Ash, and the tears streaming down his face make Ash's insides hurt in a way he's not used to.

Ash starts shaking again.

"I'm sorry," he says, but he doesn't know what he did wrong. Everything, he guesses. Everything.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," Eiji says, almost a whine, and he's still crying. "I'm so sorry, Ash. I'm so sorry."

"W-what?" Ash manages.

"I'm so sorry," Eiji says again, shaking his head. "You didn't deserve this. You've never deserved this, Ash."

But he does deserve it, so ...

"When you—" Ash starts, but Eiji jumps to his feet.

"Stop!" Eiji shouts, hands balled in fists at his sides. He's not looking at Ash. Just standing, body tense, staring at the floor. "Stop. Stop. Stop. I can't bear it, hearing you talk about me this way."

"Huh?"

"I'm not going to hurt you, Ash!" Eiji turns to face him, and he shakes his head again, sniffling. "I thought you knew that. I thought you trusted me."

"I—I do, but—" Ash hisses out a breath, grinding his teeth together.

"I don't blame you if you don't trust me, Ash. I—I don't think I would trust anyone, if—" He sobs again. "But I thought you did. And I'm sorry that I'm ..."

"N-no, wait," Ash says, standing too. He winces. It still hurts. "You're perfect, Eiji. You're—"

"I am not perfect, Ash. Because if I were, I would be able to protect you. And ... if I were perfect, you wouldn't ask me these questions, I think. I know that you are hurt, and—I hope that this fades. That you will learn to trust me again. B-because I don't know if I can stand to hear you ask me that again."

Ash blinks.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Eiji repeats. "I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you think that I will."

"You didn't," Ash whispers. He shuffles toward Eiji, not lifting his feet fully. "I—I just ..."

"I'm sorry," Eiji sobs. "I'm so sorry."

"You're the only one who's ever ..." Ash trails off again.

"I'm going to spend the rest of our lives keeping you safe, and convincing you of that," Eiji resolves. "If it takes this life and the next, and every life after that, one day you'll understand how much I care."

"... I'm sorry," Ash mumbles. There's a disconnect here. He can't ... he trusts Eiji, and he believes Eiji, but there's still a part of him that recoils at the idea of not being hurt. Of not being used. Of not letting Eiji just fucking rape him.

Ash brings a hand up toward Eiji's shoulder, but hesitates before touching him.

Eiji slowly, carefully, takes Ash's hand and pulls it toward himself, letting Ash's hand rest on his shoulder.

Eiji's warm. His hand and his body are both warm.

"When you—"

"Ash!" Eiji interrupts. His face contorts.

"When you love me," Ash says, and Eiji's eyes widen. "When you love me, I want it to feel like this."

Ash moves just a little closer to Eiji, and—Eiji hugs him again. He's so ... gentle. Somehow the touch doesn't hurt, even with the injuries covering every inch of Ash's body, inside and out.

Eiji could never rape him, could he ... ?

"I already love you," Eiji whispers, and Ash believes him. "And when you love me back, I want you to love me recklessly. I'll love you carefully, and you can love me recklessly."

"... I already do," Ash mumbles. And he'd thought he'd been reckless before, but this—this is reckless on another level. This is handing someone a knife that's already tasted your blood, because you know they'll keep it away from your skin. This is offering someone the gun you just sucked off, because you know they won't point it at you.

This is trust, because—for once—you don't want them to pull the trigger.

"When we love each other," Ash whispers, "I think it'll feel exactly like this."

Notes:

Linktree.