Work Text:
It’s not the first time he sees Chase. He doubts it’ll be the last.
He’s tired, he knows, has been ever since the start of his search. A part of his mind tells him that Chase is long gone, that he should give up on him already, but when he’s standing right in front of him, he knows he can’t afford to. Him in all of his purple glory, standing ramrod straight as if he’d never gotten truly used to being a human. It’s so much like him that he wants to cry.
Gou knows that he’s not alive, that it’s just his mind playing tricks on him after one too many sleepless nights. Still, he wants to believe that he’s there, that he’s alive, tangible, and breathing.
The hallucinations started off short. He’d catch a glimpse of what seemed to be Chase here and there out of the corner of his eye or in crowd of a busy street, but he was gone before Gou could truly process it. Now, Gou finds Chase lounging in the dingy couch of his motel reading a book, or sitting across from him when he’s eating often.
Chase never speaks to him like this. He always sits in silence, accompanied by the rare smile on his face when Gou notices him. It’s beautiful. Gou could never forget it no matter how hard he tried, the way his lips tug up slightly and his eyes crinkle at the corners. He curses himself out for not taking a closer look while he was alive. He was too much of a coward to make the first move, too much of a coward to do anything. He never realized he was in love with him until Chase had been long gone, and wasn’t that a revelation?
All the anger he had taken out on him, all of the things he’d blamed Chase for. If only he could take it all back and properly apologize for what he’d said. Chase had just taken it all with a neutral look on his face, or the occasional concern in his brow. Gou had hated him for it at the time, but now he realizes how much of an idiot he had been.
He had only really been friends with Chase for a few months before he died. Gou wishes he could go back in time and tell his younger self to stop being so stuck up and let go of his preimposed hate towards Roidmudes. They could have been friends for so much longer if Gou had not been so stubborn.
Gou clutches the signal bike in his hand, an instinctive reaction at seeing its owner in front of him. Chase’s features are almost blurry, like looking through a smudged pair of glasses. Gou fears that the longer he goes without seeing him, the more he’ll blur together and lose the features that make him up. Perhaps that’s the reason he never talks. Gou has already forgotten what he sounds like exactly, the little quirks in his voice that makes Chase, Chase. No matter how long he could spend looking at photos and videos of him, there were bound to be nuances that cameras couldn’t capture. Even if he looks at Kano, the human Chase had copied, it’s not the same. They’re too different. And so he continues on his journey with his memories of Chase slowly slipping from his mind.
He’s afraid of the day the real Chase will be a complete stranger to him. The Chase in his memories are foggy, and he’s sure he’s starting to make memories up of where the gaps are. Gou had built him up so much in his mind that he’s not sure if what he thinks Chase is, is actually Chase, or just a warped figment of his imagination.
He stares at Chase. Chase stares back at him.
He doesn’t dare touch him. The last few times he had tried to reach out to him, he’d blink and Chase was gone. There was nothing but empty space where he once was. It’s kind of ironic, in a way. It describes them well. They’re in arms length of each other, but they will never touch. They are too fundamentally different to truly understand each other, and yet Gou finds himself wanting to now, more than ever.
“I’m sorry.” He says to him, because what more could he say? If he hadn’t been so reckless, if Chase hadn’t protected him, he would still be alive today. Chase deserved to live a fulfilling life more than he did. He had barely learned the joys of being human before he died.
He misses Chase more than he cares to admit. Chase and his stupidly gorgeous face. Chase and that soft smile usually reserved for Kiriko. The Chase that bears his heart out for the world to see. He wants to hate him. He wants to curse and yell at him asking why he would sacrifice himself for someone like Gou. He wants to be able to touch him again and feel the thrum of his mechanical heart whirring underneath his fingertips. He wants him alive.
Chase says nothing as usual.
“I know you’re not real.”Gou shakes, his voice coming out as a whisper. It’s his first time acknowledging it since he’d started appearing. It hurts. Of course it fucking hurts. Seeing your dead friend in front of you so casually like this. He doesn’t want to admit how much it’s affected him. He hates being vulnerable, showing emotion so openly. Gou pretends to wear his heart on his sleeve so he can hide the ugly parts of himself deep within. But Chase keeps seeing past his facade, pinning him down for what he is.
Chase nods downwards, once. It’s as much confirmation as Gou will ever get. He laughs, running a hand down his face and through his hair. He backs into his shitty motel bed, ignoring the way it creaks and groans under his weight. Gou tangles his fingers through a few strands of hair and pulls, trying to ground himself. Breathe.
“I miss you, y’know?” He stares at the ground, refusing to meet Chase’s eyes. “I miss you so much. I want you to live again. I’d trade my life away if it meant you could live again. But you’d hate that, wouldn’t you? You want to protect everyone you love. You don’t want people to suffer at your expense. I hate that about you. I hate you, I really do. I wish you were here. I wish you never saved me. I wish…” his voice cracks at the last syllable.
Beyond that, it’s silent. It always is. He must be losing his mind, speaking to a person that isn’t there. Anyone looking at him now would call him crazy. Gou would, too. He closes his eyes, forcing himself to take in deep breaths. Inhale, exhale. Over and over again. Until the guilt and the grief caught in his throat settles back down.
When he opens his eyes, Chase is gone. Empty space. Silence.
Realistically, he should call Kiriko and explain his hallucinations to her, but he fears that the moment he does, Chase will disappear forever. He’s comforted by the sight of Chase in equal parts as it hurts him. Like this, he will be immortalized in his memory forever.
Gou was never a solitary let alone quiet man. Sure he’s had his solo travels here and there, but was never truly alone, always surrounded by a group of loud, enthusiastic people. Now with his research in resurrecting Chase, he’s thrown it all out of the window. Having a version of Chase here makes him feel less alone. It makes the silence more bearable.
On nights like these, Gou thinks about what they could have been like had they ended up together. He can imagine himself dragging Chase along to the amusement park or to the cafe, witnessing Chase experiencing normal human things, logging his reactions away in the back of his mind for safekeeping. Holding Chase’s hand, cold to the touch, pulling him towards anything that caught his eye. Chase would huff but follow him along anyways, indulging in Gou’s whims.
Or maybe they would stay in, Gou leaning on Chase’s shoulder wrapped up in a blanket while they watched a movie. Gou would be far more interested in watching the way Chase’s eyebrows scrunch in thought over the plot the on screen. Maybe he’d correct the physics behind what was happening in an action movie, or ask about the cheesy tropes in a romance movie. They could have done anything and Gou would be satisfied.
He thinks, sometimes, about how Chase would react to physical affection too. Would he flinch back if Gou tried to kiss him? Would he reciprocate? He imagines Chase confused the first time, and smiles. He knows he would research extensively after that, learning all there was to know about being intimate. He’d always hated being unknowledgeable about something.
Gou collapses onto the bed, blinking up at the ceiling. He should stop this now. Stop his train of thought and go to sleep already. There was a fine line to be crossed and Gou is starting to tip over it. But much like watching a train derail in slow motion, there is nothing he can do than witness the wreck and reap the consequences.
He imagines Chase’s hands running over his body, cold against his flushed skin. Up and down his torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Chase would treat him gently, a kind lover, digging his nails in to his chest, leaving soft red lines like Gou liked, then smoothing his fingers soothingly over them in an apology. He’d kiss every part of him that was exposed, worshipping him in a way he didn’t deserve.
Gou exhales shakily, shedding his jacket and shirt in one go and discarding it off to the side. If Chase were here, he’d frown and pick them up, folding them so they wouldn’t crease. Take care of your things, he’d say, but Chase is not here, and so his clothes remain crumpled on the floor.
Gou runs a hand up his sides, mimicking what he imagines Chase to do. Soft caresses, slowly easing him into it. Gou sighs, pinching and smoothing his hands all over his body. In his imagination, Chase smiles as he draws another noise out of him. Gou quickly unfastens his belt, freeing himself from the constraints of his pants. Chase nips playfully at his hip, kissing down, but never touching him where he needed it the most. He would draw their foreplay on, telling Gou to be patient.
Chase’s hands press against his thighs, opening them up wide enough to slot himself in between his legs. They fit together nicely, with Gou wrapped snugly around his waist. Then, Chase dips down to kiss him. What would he taste like? Would his mouth be like the rest of him, ice cold, or would it be warm?
Gou teases his hands down his sides until they reach his underwear. He doesn’t take them off entirely. He feels much too vulnerable like that, as if he’s on display for the world to see, even if it’s just himself in his room. There’s already a wet spot forming, and he can feel Chase’s self satisfied smirk pressed up against him as he kisses him through his underwear. He would never say it to his face, but Gou feels as if Chase would pride himself with just how much he was affected by him.
He tugs down his underwear just enough to free himself from it and takes himself in his hand. He tests out a short stroke. It hurts a little, his hand is dry and he doesn’t have any lube on him, but he continues anyways. He pretends that the hand on him isn’t his own, but Chase’s, moving up and down.
Gou groans, his back arching slightly off the bed and throws a hand over his mouth to muffle his noises. The Chase in his imagination starts speeding up, and so does he. Chase flicks his wrist in a way that makes Gou cry out and thrusts into his hand.
He’s ashamed to admit he’d done this before, even back when Chase was alive, the only difference being the change in fantasies since then. In the beginning, Gou was pushy, imagining himself overtop Chase, grinding against him to take out his anger. He was furious that he was attracted to him, and even more so that he would appear in his dreams so often. He’d imagine Chase under him, using him, taking what he wanted and not giving anything back.
He thinks of them now as a slow dance. The push and pull, give and take, yet no less passionate. Chase gives equally as much as he receives. Gou wants to map out every inch of his skin with his hands and his mouth. He wonders, vaguely, what Chase would sound like in this scenario. Perhaps a soft groan or the occasional whimper. He lets out a long moan at the thought.
In his fantasies, he gives every Chase wants. He can’t ever seem to deny him of anything. Gou is a greedy man, but Chase lets him indulge himself as much as he wants. He knows it’s all just a fantasy, that this would never happen whether Chase was alive or not. Even after Gou revived him, it was unlikely he would say anything to Chase, let alone would he share his feelings. Gou would watch him from afar and convince himself that was enough for him.
The first tear that escapes him is a surprise. The next is not. Gou curls in on himself as his tears stain the pillows, biting his lips to stop another sob threatening to claw its way out of his throat. He clutches at Signal Chaser in one of his hands, speeding up his strokes with the other. Gou squeezes his eyes tight, imagining Chase pressed against him, melding together. He can almost feel Chase’s heart whirring against his back. It’s the only part of him that’s warm.
He feels himself near his peak. In his mind, Chase is behind him with his hand wrapped around his as he helps him continue towards his climax.
“Gou...” he hears Chase’s voice cut clear through the haziness of his arousal. He feels a puff of hot air blow over his ear as Chase says his name, a tinge of desperation laced within it. It’s enough to make Gou gasp and let out a choked groan as he finishes into his hand, shuddering through his orgasm.
It takes a while for him to come down from it, but when he does, he forces himself to turn around. He’s almost disappointed when there’s no one else in bed with him. Chase is a dead man. He should expect nothing less.
He feels the usual guilt settle uncomfortable in his chest, eating away at him. He should stop whatever this is. It’s always the same feeling in the end whether Chase was dead or alive.
He quickly grabs a tissue to wipe away the evidence of what he’s done and throws his clothes back on haphazardly. The adrenaline is long gone, instead replaced by bone deep exhaustion. He sighs and settles into the bed, getting as comfortable as he can in it. It will never be comfortable, but he’s slept in worse motels, so Gou supposes it’s alright.
He realizes he still has Signal Chaser resting in his hand and curls his fingers around it protectively. He stares at his fist holding the bike for a long while, as if it had all the answers he was desperately seeking.
“Chase,” He exhales, bringing the bike up to his forehead. He wishes it was Chase pressing back against him instead. He wishes they had a relationship where they could cuddle up in bed together. He wishes he could hold Chase in his arms again. He wishes for many things he will never get. “why’d you have to go and protect me?”
Silence greets him in reply. Chase does not respond.
It’s as he’d expect.