Guilty Pleasure
It was unfamiliar, what Tsubasa woke up to that morning. Soft sheets, warm and inviting. They were unnerving, shifting against his bare legs uncomfortably. He shouldn’t be there.
He knew he should leave, slide out unnoticed and make his way back to his own room, but fear kept him firmly planted. It was nauseating, an anxious feeling prickling in the back of his mind. The start of cravings, of regrets and temporary release. It was possible, maybe, that if he just stayed there, time would stay still. He could stay caught up in the moment, like the night had been before. The sheets could soften, feel more comfortable as he adjusted. He could feel safe, maybe even calm, if his brain let him. Though, that was only a fleeting thought.
He shifted back a bit, eyes closing hesitantly. His hope of peace led him to try and curl back into the bed, test if he could actually stop time. He hoped he could - he so desperately did. He didn’t want to go back, not to grey days and disappointment. Not back to his daughter, so frustrated, so tired. The blankets threatened to swallow him, to wrap him up in a dangerous warmth, but they couldn’t manage. He froze, that bristling anxiety crawling up his spine again. He felt a knee, and then a leg. An arm maybe, too, not quite as extended. They poked at the back of his leg and the lower curve of his spine. He felt them recoil, slowly, as if in quiet offence, before they grew still again.
Tsubasa held his breath, clawed it back down into his lungs fearfully. Strings of prayers raced through his mind, prayers that the man next to him remained asleep. He didn’t want to talk, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to make excuses, explain himself or explain his actions. He didn’t want to explain last night. Though, he could already feel blue eyes on him, locked onto the tenseness in his shoulder blades - or, maybe, hung up on the tremble of his skin.
He didn’t dare shift, fear crawling up his spine like spiders - which, the thought of only made him more unsettled. Silence was all that followed these thoughts, interrupted only by the sound of soft breaths behind him. The quiet was thoughtful, pondering, as if the man behind Tsubasa was trying to figure out if he was awake.
The silence settled, like a film in the room, hung and caught up on tension. Tsubasa didn’t mean for the tension to be there, but thoughts of guilt and unshakable doubts kept it pinned to the air around him. As the silent space grew, he began to hope, or maybe, pray, that the other man had simply gone back to sleep. He dared let a breath slither out, shaky and full of uncertainty - though, it was quickly snatched back down into his throat. Sheets shifted and moved, seeming to scream with every second of movement. Skin slid across fabric, slow, and cautious, edging towards Tsubasa’s quivering frame. There was a gentleness to it, the kind that almost hurt, as if too soft to bear.
Fingers pressed against his skin, just barely touching, as if to make sure it was safe to do so. They started at his back, slow and cautious, like testing water. The feeling let Tsubasa’s nerves melt in ripples, only to be replaced by hard apprehension once more. He felt them slide up his shoulder blade, slowly adding pressure and care with each second of movement. Eventually they reached his shoulder, thumb brushing his neck in a reassuring way. He was sure he’d have felt comforted, if not for the impossible consequences that filled his mind. The sheets shifted again as a body moved behind him, inching closer and closer. Tsubasa felt like a mouse being hunted, just inches away from his attacker.
He shifted forwards on impulse, as if to make a frantic escape, but a soft pressure on his shoulder kept him at bay. The gentleness pulled him back, lulled him into security, into safety. Fingers danced across his neck, warm and inviting, but also apologetic in their movements. Tsubasa was surprised by the feeling, the softness he was so usually ignorant towards.
Heart and mind conflicted, so ready to give into the tender approach, yet so desperate to evade it. He couldn’t do it again, couldn’t betray anyone another time. Each time he told himself not to. Each time he withdrew further and further away. Yet, each time, he rebounded right back into Kade’s arms. For that moment, fingers frozen on Tsubasa’s skin and breathing caught in both throats, he thought. Kade. His friend, his comfort, his only real release anymore. A man he knew so gravely wanted to help, wanted to show love. He’d gone through hoops, above and beyond, yet Tsubasa struggled to accept it, struggled to believe it.
Logically, he knew it was all okay, it was safe to move on, to bury away the thoughts of tombstones and pictures. But his heart ached at the thought, clasping onto any last shred of memory and belonging. He was owned by another, still, even after they were so long and gone. He couldn’t just let that slip through his fingers.
His heart nearly stopped again as he finally recognized the feeling of a hand on his chest. It had snaked its way under his armpit and over his side, drawing him closer and holding on tight. It was only seconds before he felt heat on his back and the pulse of another body. It was so pleasant, he almost sank back into it, let it consume him, body and mind.
A nauseating feeling began to build in the pit of his stomach, slow and almost unnoticeable. It was backed by anxiety, an overwhelming fear brought on by false imaginings. He let out a small sound, the beginnings of words that quickly died in his dry mouth. He tried again, only to be silenced by a word.
“Stay.”
It whispered, echoing and soft, hanging in the air like an entity. He froze, pierced by the calm, unable to pull away. The nausea fell, if only for a second, to be replaced by a fuzzy warmth. He couldn’t help but subdue to it.
Finally, he leaned back, tense, but starting to relax. His body perfectly molded into the other man’s, knee caps over knee caps, hips against hips, one head hidden just under the crook of the other’s neck, tucked away under the chin. It was like a warm blanket. A warm blanket that cared.
A soft breath rattled its way out of him, filled with relief and apology. So many emotions rode on it, filling the air with unspoken words. Kade responded only with his own breathing, nose pressed into the top of Tsubasa’s head. It was soft and rhythmic, as if instructing him how to breathe calmly.
“Just stay,”
It repeated itself, as if to calm Tsubasa’s beating heart. He obliged, sinking back into him further, even daring to touch his hand to the other man’s. He closed his eyes, imagining the soft warmth glowing in Kade’s eyes.
“Okay…” He breathed, shaky, but willing.
The soft beating of Tsubasa’s heart echoed in his ears, like loud drums announcing his anxieties. It slowed quietly, easing into a sense of comfort and warmth as he pressed against the other man. He could hear Kade’s heart beating quietly behind him, slow and steady, like rain pattering on pavement, carried along by his breath. The sound, such a tiny thing, felt so comfortable that it was surreal.
He opened his mouth to speak, to drown out the beats, before he could mold perfectly into Kade’s body. He couldn’t be there, he knew it did nothing but harm. It was a crime, to surrender himself to wholly to another person - a pleasure he was falling guilty to.
Soft sheets slid up over his skin, like clouds covering the sky, hiding it’s far-too-bright flaws. They were sheets of sandpaper to him, rubbing his skin raw and red with guilt. It meant he was caught, that he was allowing himself to accept his situation. He was moving on.
Thunder, a terrifying noise that drowned out all thought. It boomed from his chest, faster than any heartbeat. He didn’t want to to move on, it left too much of an ache in his chest to do so. Static, he wanted to stay static, in his tear flooded room and his tear stained bed. He wanted to stay still, stay with his old rings and dead albums, clutch them desperately. For if he were to move on, he felt he would have to leave him behind - Adrian would remain, six feet stuck under the floorboards of their dead house. He couldn’t leave him behind. He promised.
He twitched forwards, eyes locked on the window, the door, any escape, but a heavy need kept him stuck in place. Gentle love, a craving so intense. He just couldn’t leave that behind, not when it was so close.
“...Kade…” He whispered, glass voice cracking slightly. He wished he could say more, but he had said all he needed.
The sheets landed on his shoulders, tucked around his frame and holding him close. A hand, softer than any mother’s, slid up the back of his scalp, brushing away his locks. He held his breath, expecting the usual sting of anxiety that followed it’s every motion, but it did not come. It came with a new suitor - love. It calmed the seas in his chest, once ravaged by grief.
He held his breath in his throat, fingers gliding through his hair, causing a shiver to go down his spine. Relief. Calm, sweet, relief. It rose up his body like a wave, through his chest and up his throat, threatening to spill out. Salty tears edged along the border of his eyes and for once, he welcomed them. He welcomed the bittersweet, craved its acceptance, its love. It was his love. It was Kade’s.
They streamed down his face, slow and warm like spring rain and just as sweet as a summer peach. He took in a shaky breath, letting the tears fall freely, calmly. Two words, dancing on his lips, teasing his tongue. He finally felt them now, free to be spoken. Two simple words - simple, but full of power.
“I love you…” Came tumbling out, just a breath of a whisper, and out with it, pressed into his hair, came three more words.
“I love you too,”