Author's Note: Inspired by a dream I had. Spoilers up to the October full moon.
If you think this is messed up, trust me, the dream was worse.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Shinjiro is hovering over him, pinning him down against his bed. Akihiko can taste that unidentifiable tang in the brunet's mouth as the troublemaker kisses him, but now he knows it's the drugs that are slowly killing his childhood friend. It hurts to know that his friend (though they're more than that, but neither of them have given it a name) is dying, even more than it hurt when he left after losing control – the very reason he's taking the damned things. It hurt more than the day his parents died, and even more than when Miki died, but Akihiko doesn't want to think about them. It's Shinji, sarcastic, grouchy, 'I-can-lift-an-axe-with-one-hand' Shinjiro. The platinum-haired boxer pulls the aloof brunet down, groaning as skin touches skin. He's desperate tonight, and he doesn't know why – all he knows is that Shinjiro is his, that he loves him, and so he kisses him fiercely as his boxers are slid away. For once, he doesn't care that Shinji's still wearing his hat, or even that the other eighteen year old is probably going to keep his pants on. He moans slightly as fingers brush across his hips, kept down by the other when those hands are suddenly gripping his hips. Shinji does just what he's always yelling at Akihiko for doing – charging ahead like a damn fool, and it hurts, but he's moaning anyway because it's a good sort of pain.
"Shinji…" he groans, tilting his head back. He wants to hear his name coming from the other's lips, wants a sarcastic 'Akihiko!' or a slightly breathless 'Aki…', but the brunet's being oddly quiet. The boxing champ doesn't think about it, though, because Shinjiro is everywhere; in him, around him, stroking and kissing him until he releases with a groan. Shinjiro begins to pull out, and Akihiko lays back, eyes shut, basking in the afterglow as the brunet adjusts his pants and pulls his shirt and coat back on.
There's a soft drip of something on his stomach, and Akihiko frowns. "Shinji, what the hell are you doing?"
There's no answer, and so Akihiko opens his eyes, looking down at his stomach. "Is that…?" he begins, looking up.
There's blood on his stomach, and it's coming from the blood beginning to drip out of Shinjiro's mouth. The other teen's dark eyes are dimming, and Akihiko realizes that there's blood spilling out from beneath Shinjiro's maroon coat, staining the blankets as his best friend (and so much more) stares at him, mouth opening as if to say something but only letting more blood gurgle out.
It's then that Akihiko remembers that Shinjiro is dead, not from the drugs, but because of revenge and hate and Strega. He wants to scream, but all he can do is stare as Shinjiro reaches for him, hands shaking as the skin seems to fall away, leaving nothing but bone as he caresses his hips and trails up to his face. The blood from Shinjiro's mouth is dripping up his chest and neck now, and Akihiko is shaking, crying silent tears as he watches the brunet decay before his eyes. A drop of blood touches his lips, and he screams.
Akihiko shoots up, eyes wild, tears still running down his face as he stumbles out of bed. The room is the sickly green color that is characteristic of the Dark Hour, and Akihiko retches at the sight of blood on the walls before staggering into the room next door and collapsing on a bed that shouldn't be empty. He fumbles beneath the bed for a moment, pulling out a black beanie that still smells like smoke and ramen, and Akihiko – Captain of the Gekkoukan High Boxing Team, senior member of SEES – holds it over his mouth as he screams.