He doesn't know what got into him, doesn't understand why he feels this way.

Why his hands start shaking as soon as they part from Hiroto's, why his breath catches hard and fast as soon as Hiroto makes a move in any direction away from him, why the cold grip of fear and anxiety grabs his heart in a vice at the mere suggestion of Hiroto going anywhere without him, why the panic sets in at night and Masaki has to rush to lock up the doors and windows.

He doesn't understand this fear, this panic, this ache in his chest, this paranoia.

He doesn't understand but he does and he hates it.

He's not clingy.

Possessive, yes.

Clingy, no.

What's wrong with me? Why am I like this?

He knows why.

It's because of that night, the night Hiroto came so close to dying.

To leaving him.

Forever.

That night had shaken them both up but Masaki had thought that he was fine. It's been almost a week. He should be more than fine. He wasn't even the one who almost died.

If anyone, it's Hiroto who shouldn't be okay but he is. He's been more than fine, laughing and fighting in equal measures just as before. Sure it did take a few days for Hiroto to relax again but he doesn't even seem affected.

His brother has started to notice too. He's been watching him more closely lately, a suspicious light to his gaze. Masaki doesn't like that either. He shouldn't be worrying his brother. Hiroto should be worried about himself, not Masaki.

When he gets the call from Kohaku, Masaki freezes up. It's time. He barely forces the words out, can't breath as he moves to look at Hiroto. "It's time," he whispers. He has to clear his throat before he can speak up, "we'll have to leave now if we want to make it to the meeting on time. Everyone's coming together to make one last stand against Kuryu ."

"Let's go, Aniki!" Hiroto is pumped up, excited for the battle that's about to come, ready to take down their enemy.

Masaki forces himself to get ready, shoving down the anxiety and panic to grab his jacket. Hiroto makes his way in front of him, heading for the door before Masaki can stop him. He freezes again.

No, no please. Not yet. I can't do this.

But he has to. For SWORD. For Takeru.

Masaki's heart drops as Hiroto opens the door, forced to watch him leave.

No, nonononono. No please.

Sunlight breaks across Hiroto's form, lighting him up on one side. Sharp pain stabs through Masaki and then he's moving, running much too fast in his panic.

No, Hiroto, no, please. It's too dangerous!

Masaki collides into his brother, shoving him back into their apartment before Hiroto can stop him.

Nonononono. He can't let him go. Masaki can't let him leave. It's too dangerous. He'll get hurt. No, please. He can't.

Masaki keeps going, grabbing Hiroto when he starts protesting and lifting him up off the floor and running all the way to their bedroom.

It's not safe. Not safe. Too dangerous out there. He has to protect him. He can't let Hiroto get hurt. Can't. Cant.

He can't breathe, can't think.

All Masaki sees is a bullet slamming into his brother's body, the red of blood splattering through the air, the light fading from his eyes.

The sounds of a bullet stream through the air, Hiroto's gasp of breath and the dull thud of his body hitting the ground echo through Masaki's mind as images taunt him of his boyfriend's death.

He knows it's not real.

Knows that his mind is making it all up. Knows that he's being stupid, that he's panicking for no reason.

But Masaki can't stop.

Can't fight down the panic, can't force the earful images away. Not anymore, not with the threat so close. It's too much for him and Masaki finds himself lost in memories, lost in panic, lost in terror.


Pain flares hot across his jaw, the dull thud of flesh hitting flesh echoing throughout the room as Masaki's head snaps to the side. The suddenness of it, more than the pain itself, is enough to jar him back into awareness.

His body goes tense, survival instincts kicking into high alert as adrenaline floods his system. Masaki moves before he's even aware of it and he has his attacker in a choke hold in seconds.

The choked murmur of his name barely breaks through the ringing in his ears. No. Terror strikes as Masaki realizes what he's done. Who he's hurting. In the blink of an eye, Masaki releases his hold on Hiroto and nearly jumps off of him.

A second later, he's helping his brother up, checking his face and throat for bruising as tears form behind his eyes. Masaki's horrified at himself, practically hysterical as he frantically apologizes over and over.

"…ki!….Masaki!"

Hiroto practically shouts his name, hands grabbing for his wrists to cease Masaki's panicked movements.

"I'm okay, look at me! I'm fine! You didn't hurt me."

Masaki stops moving, momentarily freezing in place as Hiroto's words wash over him, as reality crashes back into place and then he's moving, pulling away.

"Sorry, Hiroto, I don't know what came over me. Come on, we need to head out."

"Wait—Masaki, what—?"

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow down as he leaves their apartment, "they're all probably already waiting for us, let's go."

Masaki forces himself to keep going, to not look back to watch Hiroto leave the safety of their place. He shoves the panic down, cramming trembling fingers into his gloves as he mounts his motorcycle. He very carefully doesn't answer any of Hiroto's questions, doesn't let the worried look in his brother's eyes break his determination.

Masaki pulls his shit together.

They make it to the meeting earlier than he had thought, though the words Kohaku and the SWORD leaders say mostly brush right past him, in one ear and out the other.

A cold sweat has broken across his forehead and down his back. He can't focus on the meeting, can't think beyond watching their surroundings.

Masaki's looking for shooters that don't exist, trapped in fear and anxiety.

All he wants to do is grab Hiroto and hide him away, to make sure he's safe from the dangers of their world. He wants to wrap himself around his brother and never let go.

But he can't.

And it's destroying him.

He tries to focus on the meeting, on the importance of finding the evidence they need.

"Crush anyone who interferes! This is the final fight."

Masaki pushes the hesitation, the reluctance, away. The words Aniki, watch us. We will live strong play on repeat as he and Hiroto head directly into a dangerous battle.

They have to separate once the fighting starts at the warehouse the men have been taken too. It takes everything Masaki has to take his eyes off Hiroto long enough for them to find the old plant director.

Relief bursts through him when Hiroto joins him outside with the Rude Boys and the director. He's still in one piece, barely a scratch on him and a wide grin lighting up his features but there's no time for it. They have to keep moving.

Masaki wants nothing more than to pull Hiroto into his arms and take him home. He can't.

He manages to talk the director into giving up the location of the evidence only to be interrupted by the arrival of Genji.

Great. Not this guy again.

Masaki is torn, split between getting rid of the guy who's been chasing them for so long and keeping him away from Hiroto. Keeping Hiroto safe. But he doesn't have much of a choice. This is for Aniki.

Hiroto steps up immediately to back his decision for which Masaki is endlessly grateful for even a cold burst of anxiety, of what ifs, settles over him.

Adrenaline flows, instincts and muscle memory taking over as the two jump into battle. It feels like forever since they've fought like this, just them against one person. It's a pleasant, nostalgic feeling; not having to worry about watching out for more than one person at a time, only having to protect Hiroto from one person. They used to fight against Aniki like this all the time, years ago when they were still training.

It's easy to slip back into the flow of a fight but the two aren't as experienced with fighting against sword users, strong, skilled sword users. It has the brothers fighting closer than usual, backing each other up and covering each other more than they typically need.

With how on edge Masaki has been the past week, he has no trouble keeping up with it, no difficulty with keeping half his focus trained on Hiroto's movements.

As the fight wears on, longer than he had wanted, Masaki knows he has to do something to end it, something to give them an equal footing with the sword.

He leaps, delivering a hard blow to get their enemy away from his boyfriend except Genji is barely fazed and this time it's Hiroto jumping in to help him when Masaki is too slow.

The chains are an unexpected find but they fall almost perfectly into place, right where Masaki needs them and a brilliant idea hits him at just the right time. He's quick to move, not wanting to leave Hiroto to fight alone for too long and manages to step back into the fight just in time.

Hiroto catches on quickly, wrapping the length of chain around his arm and hands. Now on a more even footing, the brothers deal repeated harsh blows to their enemy and quickly find a solution to the sword issue. Masaki delivers one last kick before turning to look over Hiroto.

He knows they don't have time, that they have to get moving but he can't help it. Masaki moves quickly to his boyfriend's side, hands coming up to cradle Hiroto's face as he carefully examines the cut across his cheek and split lip.

"Masaki…I'm good."

The words fall gently from Hiroto's lips even as his brother takes his own chance to look him over, hands finding his.

Masaki's unable to speak, still caught up in a conflicting rush of relief and anxiety but he manages to nod at the questioning look in his boyfriend's eyes.

All too soon, he pulls away.

Masaki makes sure Genji stays down.

The brothers head to Nameless City. They still have work to do. Thankfully the worst of their fight is over. Compared to everything they've already been through, bringing the evidence to the press is easy.


Masaki wants to be relieved, wants to feel happy, finally it's over, finally they've won against their enemies, finally they've gotten revenge against all of Kuryu . They've done it, they've made an actual difference, Aniki would be so proud of them.

But he doesn't, not really.

He's still too keyed up, too flighty, too panicky.

All he wants is to bundle his boyfriend up, to lay on his chest and listen to the rhythmic thump of his heart and the soothing rise and fall of each breath he takes. He wants to hold him tight and never let him leave his side. Masaki wants Hiroto to pin him down, rest all his weight on him, wrap him up in his arms and hold him forever.

And he can't stop those feelings.

He hates it, hates feeling like this, hates how clingy he's being.

Masaki very carefully doesn't touch Hiroto the entire way back home. He doesn't say more than a few words, avoids even looking at him as much as possible. He knows if he does, Masaki will break.

It'll be a repeat of what happened earlier that day and he can't do that. Not again. Not ever. He scared Hiroto. Scared himself with how out of control he was. Masaki won't allow that to happen again. He won't hurt Hiroto like that again. Not if he has any say in it. He'd rather die than hurt his brother.

Besides, no one likes or wants a clingy partner.

Especially not Hiroto.

Hiroto needs his space, his time, his freedom.

He always has. Masaki will not take that from him.

It burns, a white hot pain in his chest that lasts the entire ride back to their apartment and doesn't let up even as he starts pulling out the first aid kit. Just like the rest of those clingy horrid thoughts and feelings, Masaki ignores it.

Masaki sets their first aid kit out on the bathroom counter, gesturing for Hiroto to move closer to him. His brother does, moving to sit on the counter instead, leaning back against the mirror as his eyes slip shut.

He's trusting Masaki entirely with patching him up, with taking care of him. The thought soothes some of the ache he feels and Masaki carefully goes through the motions of cleaning the cuts and bruises littering his boyfriend's skin. The worst of it is, as usual, his knuckles.

Masaki has spent more than half his life taking care of Hiroto, this aspect is no different. He's always been the one his brothers have gone to for medical aid, even Takeru who was older and knew more, heck he taught half of it to Masaki but the two still seeked him out, as if it was up to Masaki to take care of their health.

Which, he supposes, it is. He's always been the one to cook, to patch them up, to look after them, to call them out on their shit. He's always been the glue that holds the three of them together. Now that it's just the two of them, nothing has changed.

Masaki cleans Hiroto up, quickly turning to run a bath for him, he waits until his brother opens his eyes again before he slips away. They need food, then sleep. He settles for something simple, something easy, making a plate for Hiroto just before he comes out.

He stumbles out to their kitchen, scaring Masaki with the way he sways, eyes closed. Hiroto is tired, probably utterly exhausted from everything they went through today. Masaki is quick to move, guiding Hiroto to the counter to eat.

Seeing his boyfriend sleepily eating, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of briefs, safe in their home finally eases the burning sensation in his chest. Finally it feels like Masaki can breathe again.

He still itches to cuddle into his brother's side and not let him go.

He shoves it aside, making sure Hiroto eats everything before guiding him to their bed. He's so cute, the way Hiroto mumbles protests, turning instead into the bathroom to sleepily watch Masaki tend to his own injuries.

He can't resist how adorable he looks, finally giving in to the clinginess he's felt for days.

Masaki scoops his boyfriend up, carrying him into their room, to bed where he finally caves.

He curls up on top of Hiroto, face pressed into his chest, rising slightly up with each breath, the gentle thump of his heart the only lullaby Masaki'll ever need.

He's finally calm, panic and anxiety nonexistent as sleep takes over.

"…finally…" Hiroto mumbles, arms wrapping even tighter around him, "took you long enough. I thought you'd never settle down."

"Mmmm…you scared me."

"I know…you scared me too…but we're both okay…so stop being so overprotective. And stop thinking so much."

"…just wanna make sure you're safe…"

"I'm always safe when I'm with you."

"…mmm…Mmmhhh…Love you, Hiroto."

"I love you too, Masaki"

Their words are mumbles, muffled by the haze of exhaustion and sleep deprivation but they understand each other easily, communication flowing easily between the two. Hiroto knows how he's been feeling without needing an explanation and Masaki loves him endlessly for it.

Maybe he's allowed to be clingy after all.

He still hates it.

(Hiroto loves it.)