It was 3:26 a.m. when he finally heard the door open and close slowly. Keys jingled softly before being dropped on the table in the entryway, followed by footsteps down the hall towards the bedroom. Akiyama rolled over in bed, facing the wall just as the bedroom door opened. He could hear Fushimi's tired sigh, but the older man did nothing but listen.
Fushimi shrugged off his clothes, letting them fall messily on the floor before he lifted the corner of the sheets and crawled into bed to curl around Akiyama. The older man had to resist the urge to cringe from the now-familiar smell clinging to his lover. He knew where his lover had been, and exactly what he would see if he looked at him.
Closing his eyes, he could already picture Fushimi's regret-filled eyes, his bruised lips, and the shameful marks and bruises covering his neck and shoulder, all the way down to that burnt mark on his collarbone. He could see the harsh red scratches on his back and the dark bruises on his sides that would be visible for days. He could hear the excuses Fushimi had prepared, the same meaningless words that dropped from his mouth every time he came home late like this, but Akiyama was still at least thankful that Fushimi returned. The nights like this were better than those when the green-haired man was left lying awake all night, waiting even though he knew his lover was sleeping – and worse – with someone that should be considered their enemy.
"I'm sorry, Himori." Fushimi's voice was rough and abused, for reasons Akiyama didn't even want to imagine, though his mind immediately filled with the images anyway. "I was on patrol, and ran into him…"
"It's okay, don't worry about it Saru." Akiyama didn't bother pretending to be asleep. He was always awake on nights like this, always waiting for Fushimi's return. All he could do was hope that at the end of the night, when Fushimi was done with whatever he did, he still considered Akiyama to be more important than him. Not that he thought that was very likely. After all, he was just a co-worker turned lover to Fushimi, while that kid had been Fushimi's best friend (with several benefits, he assumed) for the longest time…
"It isn't okay," Fushimi sighed, wrapping an arm around the older man's waist and pulling him close. It was supposed to be comforting, but it just brought that smell even closer to the green-haired man. "I know I keep saying that I won't do it, but I keep hurting you. I'm sorr-"
"I said that it's fine, Saruhiko," Akiyama interrupted, pulling the blanket closer around himself as he tried to shrink into the bed and hide the tremors in his voice. "Just get some sleep already."
"No, it's not." Akiyama could practically hear the scowl in the younger man's voice as he repeated himself. "I'm trying to apologize- look at me Himori." Fushimi grabbed Akiyama's arm somewhat harshly and turned him over, their eyes meeting. "I'm sorry. I've told you that he doesn't mean anything to me anymore, I love you no matter what."
Their faces were mere centimeters apart, close enough for Akiyama to detect something under the scent of Homura; something that just tore his heart a bit more and threw away any meaning to what Fushimi was saying. "You're still underage, you shouldn't be drinking," he said quietly, pulling out of the dark-haired man's grip and rolling over again, his back to Fushimi.
"Damnit, it was a mistake okay? Let me explain, don't just ignore me!" Fushimi snapped, raising his voice in irritation.
"A mistake?" Akiyama turned back to the younger man, eyes narrowed as his anger started to overflow. "Like all the other times, right? It was just a mistake that you happened to run into him again and couldn't control yourself, just like last week, and a few weeks before that, and every other time you two met up to fuck?!"
Fushimi was silent for a moment, stunned by his usually well-mannered lover's sudden outburst. His own anger dissipated immediately, and he slowly pulled his hand away from Akiyama, wrapping his arms around his own torso as if to try and hold himself together instead. "I know… I keep going back to him, and breaking my promises to you… I'm sorry Himori."
Akiyama felt a stab of guilt in his stomach when he heard the desperate sincerity in Fushimi's voice. "I'm sorry too, Saru," he whispered, setting a hand on the teen's shoulder lightly before placing a light kiss on his forehead. "It's not your fault, just get some rest." He gently pulled Fushimi's glasses off and reached around him to set the lenses on the bedside table.
"I'm sorry, I don't deserve this," Fushimi sighed dejectedly, closing his eyes. "I'm disgusting..."
Akiyama shook his head and wrapped an arm around the younger man's thin body. Fushimi flinched slightly at first, but soon relaxed and moved a little closer to the older man. "It's okay Saru, I still love you." The words fell seamlessly from the green-haired man's lips, an automatic response that had long ago ceased to mean anything. He still did love Fushimi, but it hurt to constantly be put second in favor of his lover's old friend.
"Sorry," Fushimi repeated hollowly, closing his eyes and falling asleep a few moments later, exhaustion from the day's work as well as his earlier activities combining to let him slip into unconsciousness easily.
Akiyama let out a small sigh and held the younger man close, trying to calm his thoughts enough to be able to fall asleep as well. "I'm trying to help you Saruhiko…" he whispered, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the dull aching left in his chest that had been growing with every repeat of the incident.
He wasn't sure how much longer he could withstand the emotional pain that came with being in a relationship like this with Fushimi, but he always tried to savor the small things. Like the teen's rare genuine smiles, or the way they would alternate who holds who depending on the night, but Akiyama's favorite would probably be the fact that he was the one that would wake up next to Fushimi in the morning.
