BINDER. SAFETY. IS. IMPORTANT.

Souji's injuries are based off my own personal experiences; I can't tell you how many times I screwed up when I was first starting out with binders and wound up with welts and sore ribs. (Didn't help that I had the wrong kind of binder at first, either. Make sure you do your research and get one that fits.) So right now, as your Unofficial Trans-Masc Older Brother (tm), here is my PSA to everyone reading this:

If you're wearing a binder right now, stand up, stretch your back, take a few deep breathes and inflate your lungs. Have you been wearing it for 8+ hours? TAKE IT OFF. Do not exercise in your binder, do not sleep in your binder, if you're starting to chafe or you feel any kind of pain - TAKE. IT. OFF. Dysphoria sucks, but your health is important.

Disclaimer still applies.

Chapter 2: I Just Complicate it When I Say Too Much

The shower is running by the time Yosuke makes it back upstairs. It had taken him all of thirty seconds after paying to decide that he really didn't want to bother setting up in the living room, so, food in hand, he plunks down on the floor in front of Souji's coffee table. Originally he'd planned on letting Souji shower first while they were waiting; Souji's showers never take very long, so the food probably would have arrived right as Yosuke was finishing up his own. He likes it when they eat together, since it's almost like a stay-in date when the setting is right.

Now, though, for obvious reasons, that particular plan has been ever so slightly derailed. He could wait; he's hit the point of exhaustion where he doesn't really feel the hunger he knows is there. However, if he waits on Souji, then Souji will wait on him, and Yosuke doesn't much like the idea of making his boyfriend wait any longer than necessary.

So he starts in on his food and waits for his partner to get out of the shower.

Souji reappears not long after, still shirtless, but dressed in his pajama pants with his sleep shirt tucked into the crook of his elbow as he scruffs a towel over his hair. He carefully seats himself beside Yosuke and offers him a quirk of his lips – a tired, fond smile.

"All yours," he murmurs, mimicking Yosuke's earlier words. He reaches out to snag his own bowl of takeout and pull it closer.

Up close, Yosuke can see the binder marks along Souji's skin. They're fainter now, still red but not as angry as they were before. A lot of the lesser chafing has all but faded, leaving only pink patches here and there in between the heavier outlines.

Yosuke must take too long to respond, because Souji looks over and catches him staring. He glances away, down at his own torso, and seems to curl inwards out of habit. "Sorry," he says. He gropes around for the shirt he'd let fall beneath the table and starts to tug it closer.

"No, you—Don't apologize, man." Yosuke places his hand over the one Souji's using to fish for his discarded shirt and gives it a squeeze. He groans behind his teeth. "I'm the one that should be sorry; this is the first time you've ever had your shirt off around me and all I've done so far is act like an ass."

Souji huffs a laugh. He turns his hand over in Yosuke's and folds their fingers together, giving a squeeze in return. "A protective ass," he murmurs, voice teasing. "But I kind of sprung it on you, too." He sneaks a glance back up at Yosuke from the corner of his eyes. His hand on the table fiddles nervously with his unbroken chopsticks. "Does it bother you?" he whispers. There is a thread of sadness in his tone now, of worry, like he's still convinced that Yosuke will suddenly find him disgusting. He gestures at the irritation along his shoulder with his free hand, using a chopstick like a pointer. "They're still tender; the water helped but I'm afraid if I put my shirt on they'll stick to it."

Yosuke doesn't answer with words. Instead, he slowly leans forward until he's able to properly catch Souji's eyes. Gently, he raises their clasped hands and brings Souji's fingers to his lips, brushing them over each one before pressing a quiet kiss to the back of Souji's hand. "Nothing about you bothers me," he whispers against his boyfriend's skin. He watches Souji watching him and lets a soft smile stretch over his features where Souji can see. "I know I'm not doing a great job of showing it, but I'm really glad you took your shirt off."

Souji looks at him with an expression full of affection and awe, so warm that Yosuke can feel it in his chest like sunlight. Souji is like a sun, but shyer – a guiding star in the darkness – and Yosuke wonders if it's possible to fall in love with someone he's already fallen for a hundred times over.

And then, suddenly, that warm expression becomes one of mischief as Souji snerks. It isn't really a snort, much like all of Souji's other laughter is never really laughter in the conventional sense; it's a light, gravely sound in the back of his throat that grows into his usual breathy huff through the hint of his exposed teeth.

"Are you now?" he asks, somehow managing to keep his voice level despite his sniggering. His eyes gleam in a way they haven't since before the two of them left the tv world, mirthful and happy and it makes Yosuke's stomach swoop.

Even if he's being teased for his unintentional innuendo.

He lets out a noise of exasperation – not the first one of the night – and rolls his eyes so hard his head drops back to rest on the couch seat behind him. "Oh ha ha, dude, and here I was feeling all sappy 'cuz you're actually comfortable around me."

Souji 'snerks' again and clings to Yosuke's hand when Yosuke tries to pretend he's done enough to pull it away. "Sorry," he says, not sounding it at all. "Couldn't help it." He sighs happily and tugs on the hand on his own until Yosuke relents and leans sideways.

Souji rests his head on Yosuke's shoulder and hums. His breath is warm on Yosuke's skin, even through the fabric of his shirt. Souji is warm, solid, real; how did Yosuke ever get so lucky? He tilts his head and brushes his lips over Souji's forehead, earning him another hum in response.

"I knew what you meant, though."

"Yeah?" Yosuke shifts just enough to be able to search for Souji's eyes beyond that silvery shimmer of his still-damp hair.

"Yeah."

They stay that way for a few minutes, taking comfort in each other's presence. Eventually, though, Yosuke feels Souji's breathing start to grow shallower and he nudges his boyfriend gently with his shoulder. "Hey, man," he murmurs, and soft grey slowly blinks up at him through moon-colored lashes. (God, Yosuke is so weak for him.) "You still need to eat and I'm pretty sure I smell like a gym bag, so…"

Souji sits up. He winces slightly as his skin moves, but he makes no outward protest to being disturbed from his spot on Yosuke's shoulder. Instead, he just rolls his shoulders back – or, at least he tries, but it doesn't seem to do him much good since he's obviously trying not to jostle his ribs too much. "Mm," he agrees, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "Yeah. Go ahead."

He releases Yosuke's hand and scoots closer to the coffee table, sitting up straighter as he locates both of his forgotten chopsticks.

Yosuke pushes to his feet, legs reminding him that that he, too, had spent several hours fighting shadows. He takes a second to press a kiss to the crown of Souji's head before picking his way over to his bag to retrieve his sleep clothes. He pauses again just before he steps into the hallway and looks back over to where his boyfriend has finally started poking at his dinner. "You gonna be okay?"

Souji smiles sleepily around the end of his chopsticks and nods.

)()()()()()(

Yosuke: hey got a ?4u

Yosuke: u evr get binder rash?

Naoto S: THAT IS A VERY SPECIFIC QUESTION. I ASSUME UR ASKING FOR SOUJI-SENPAI?

Yosuke: yea. he left his binder on 2 long & now hes got red marks

Naoto S: HOW LONG DID HE WEAR IT 4?

Yosuke: all day

Yosuke: & n the tv

Yosuke: Naoto he fights n it

Naoto S: HE WHAT?

Naoto S: NO THAT IS TERRIBLE HE SHOULD NVR DO THAT

Yosuke: ikr?

Yosuke: hes gotmad chafing. messed his ribs up 2

Naoto S: DO U NEED ME 2 SCOLD HIM?

Yosuke: nah i alrdy did

Yosuke: maybe 2moro tho

Yosuke: cant hurt

Yosuke: how do i help him 2nite?

Naoto S: 4 THE IRRITATION TREAT IT LIKE A SUNBURN OR SKINNED KNEE

Naoto S: USEANTI-BAC MED ON BROKEN SKIN. LOTION ON REST

Naoto S: RIBS R TRICKY. HOW BAD?

Yosuke: idk? he can move ok just seems sore

Yosuke: he took a shwr. think hot watr helped

Naoto S: GOOD. MOBILITY IS GOOD

Naoto S: IF NOT 2 BAD THEN BACK RUBS CAN HELP

Yosuke: ty!ur the best!

Naoto S: I AM AWARE

)()()()()()(

Yosuke takes his time rubbing the water out of his hair, standing in the bathroom in his pajamas with a towel in one hand and his phone in the other. Honestly, Naoto was a godsend – they'd been endlessly helpful after Souji's dungeon, when Yosuke desperately wanted to learn but was afraid of bombarding Souji while he was still recovering. Naoto was patient, too, which was a bonus when dealing with someone like Yosuke who didn't mean to be an asshole but was so out of touch he might as well have glued his foot directly to his mouth and called it a day.

He really would have to find a way to thank them somehow. Preferably in the near future.

Tucking the phone into his pocket, Yosuke glances around the bathroom. Lotion will be easy to get his hands on; Souji has a bottle of it over on his desk, probably for situations just like this. (Yosuke frowns at that thought but tucks it away because now is not the time.) Antibacterial medicine is the thing he actually has to go looking for, and despite how awkward he feels poking around in Dojima's stuff, it's for a good cause. Squashing that awkwardness, Yosuke digs through the medicine cabinet before finally locating a tube of gel.

He does his best to put everything back the way it was, before finally stepping out of the bathroom and heading back to where his boyfriends waits.

Souji looks up as he enters, giving him a slow upturning of his lips. He sits with his arms crossed over the top of the coffee table, like he'd been resting his head on them before Yosuke walked in. His shirt is still on the floor where Souji left it earlier, the irritation on his skin so faded now that other than the fiercest of the red lines his torso looks almost normal again.

"Hi," he says sleepily. "I put the leftovers in the fridge already."

Such a Souji thing to do, Yosuke thinks, returning the smile.

He steps over to the desk and snags the little bottle of lotion before plopping down beside his boyfriend. He presses a gentle kiss to the crest of Souji's shoulder, earning a happy little hum in return. "How ya feeling?" he murmurs, eyeing the chafe lines closest to him.

Souji shifts. "Better. It's starting to pull, though."

"Ribs?"

A quiet huff. "Well I can breathe." He looks over at Yosuke with fond eyes. "Just feels like I slept wrong now."

Yosuke sets the tube of antibacterial gel and the bottle of lotion on the table in front of him. "Can I do something?" he asks quietly, pulling back enough so he can watch Souji's expression.

Souji quirks a brow at the items on the table but doesn't answer.

Yosuke scratches absently at his cheek. It's one thing for Souji to be comfortable being shirtless around him; if Souji doesn't want Yosuke actually touching his skin then that's a roadblock Yosuke will have to respect. Even if it's technically for medical purposes.

"I mean," he tries, searching for a way to ask without being weird. "Are you okay with me touching you? Not—! Not in like, a sexual way, I just…" He gestures helplessly between Souji's reddened skin and the stuff on the table, hoping it will be clearer than his failed attempt at words.

Luckily, Souji seems to understand, because he slowly nods after a moment of silent deliberation.

Yosuke lets out an exhale of sheer relief. He could probably have coerced Souji into letting him rub gel onto his shoulders but he's not terribly keen on doing that. Souji's trust is important to him; he doesn't even want to chance bending it, let alone break it.

Taking up the gel first, he angles himself so that he's facing Souji more completely. He unscrews the cap and squeezes a bit onto his finger, rubbing it between them to warm it up a little. "Can I?" he asks softly. He's already been given permission, technically, but there's no harm in double-checking.

Souji nods again. He shifts a bit, getting closer and leaning his shoulder in for Yosuke to start with.

Yosuke takes a moment to look at the chafing up close. It's not as bad as it had initially looked – thank god – and most of the surrounding redness has faded out. All that remains, of note, at least, are the places where the edges of the binder had rubbed Souji's skin raw to the point of breaking it. Yosuke doesn't see any actual blood, though, which means that most if not all of the damage is surface-level. Okay. He can handle that. With all the weight of a feather, Yosuke touches his gel-covered fingertips to his partner's battered skin, just outside the worst of if.

Gingerly, hesitantly, he starts to pat his way along the outline. He keeps his focus on his work but spares a glance upwards now and then to check and see how Souji is doing. Neither of them speaks for the next few minutes; the only sounds are the soft 'plip plip plip' of the gel as he carefully works it into Souji's wounds and the occasional hiss of discomfort in response. When Yosuke finishes with the side he can reach – Souji's shoulder and back being the worst of it, with only one spot beneath his underarm where the first layer of skin has peeled away – he heaves himself up and moves around to get at Souji's left.

The left side of Souji's body is marginally better than his right had been. The marks under his arm are just barely red, thankfully unbroken, and his shoulder has far fewer patches of broken skin than Yosuke had been expecting. The only place that looks as bad as before is along the curve of Souji's shoulder blade where the binder scraped as Souji pulled his arm across himself to wield his katana. Yosuke bends down and brushes his lips over the unmarked expanse of Souji's spine. His boyfriend makes a stilted, muffled sound low in his throat.

"Why do you wear it in the tv?" he whispers into his partner's vertebrae. "Why don't you just do what Naoto does?" He squeezes another heavy bead of gel onto his fingers and starts the process all over again.

Souji hums. It's not his usual hum; it's lower, like an audible frown, and Yosuke can picture the way his boyfriend's brows draw together "I can't," he murmurs after a pause. "The binder's the only thing I have."

Yosuke stills. He looks up from the outline he's been working on and tries to peer around the side of Souji's face to catch his eyes. "Wait, so… Nothing else?"

Souji's lips press into a thin, straight line. He stares ahead of him, eyes fixed somewhere on the far wall, and slowly shakes his head.

Yosuke sits back, hands falling away from his partner's back to rest palms-up on his folded knees. He blinks stupidly at the back of Souji's head. "Not even like a sports bra or…?"

"No."

"Do you just not own any?"

"No."

"Oh." Yosuke bites down on his lower lip and chews it, nervous. It's clear he's hitting on a sore spot here, and he wants to press harder because this is something affecting Souji's health, but he also recognizes the tightness in his leader's voice. There isn't a wall between them yet, but the cinderblocks sit ready, just in case.

He takes a deep breath, then takes the leap. "Why?"

Souji's body goes rigid – the lines of his back sharpening as he tenses. But then he's sighing, louder than he usually is, and slumping back down as the tension ebbs away. When he speaks his voice is tired, small, and Yosuke has to lean in a bit to hear him.

"I had a panic attack the last time I tried to go shopping for one."

Oh. Oh fuck. Yosuke feels his face burning with awkward guilt as everything hits him with crystal clarity. Of course Souji wouldn't own one; the poor guy couldn't have just casually gone wandering through the women's underwear department without getting the worst kind of stares, and even if he could his anxiety would have made it impossible to ask for a fitting room.

He wouldn't have anyone to buy them for him, either, since it's not like his parents would ever have bothered to buy him anything, especially clothes. The only other options would have been to come out to a stranger in order to ask for help, or to go shopping dressed as a girl, which… No. No, absolutely not. Yosuke clamps down on that thought before he makes himself sick.

He remembers how pale and empty-eyed Souji had been when Izanagi had revealed himself, remembers how violently Souji had been shaking as his shadow-self descended the stairs with long silver hair and a short uniform skirt.

Never again.

Yosuke sets aside the tube of gel and eases his arms around Souji's middle, well below the chafing and the aching ribcage. He leans forward and rests his head between his boyfriend's shoulder blades, careful to avoid any reddened skin or still-drying gel. Before he closes his arms, he whispers, "Is this okay?"

Souji's reply is to lean back into Yosuke's embrace and drape one of his own arms over the ones around his waist. "You're always okay."

Yosuke laughs softly. "I'm still gonna ask, though." He gently squeezes his arms – more a twitch than anything – and nuzzles against Souji's back.

Pressed together like this, Yosuke can feel the vibrations in his partner's body as Souji hums; they spread through Yosuke's chest and feel like home.

"It's appreciated," Souji says.

Yosuke could stay like this all night. He kind of wants to, but with his face pressed so close to Souji's damaged skin he can feel that faint traces of heat still lingering in the chafe lines and he knows he still has just a little bit left to do. "Speaking of," he starts. He waits for Souji to tilt his head back in Yosuke's direction. "Would it be okay if I gave you a backrub? Or are your ribs too sore for that?"

Souji thinks a moment, gauging. Yosuke can feel the way Souji stretches and tests just how much his torso will let him move. He grunts, just once, and catches on a movement when he tenses too much on one side, but makes no other outward show of pain as he assesses his body. "They're… tender," he finally says, voice thoughtful. "I'll tell you if it's too much." As if to further clarify his permission, Souji sits back up and leans across the table once more, leaving Yosuke to miss the feeling of warmth against his chest.

To compensate, and to make everything easier on the both of them, Yosuke tucks a leg up underneath himself and shifts so that he's directly behind his boyfriend, with Souji positioned between his legs once Yosuke gets settled. It's so domestic and intimate that Yosuke has to take a moment to remember what he's doing and not just wrap his arms around Souji's waist again and press their bodies back together.

He shakes his head to clear it before Souji can start to wonder if something's up, and reaches past the other boy's shoulder to snag the lotion bottle off the coffee table. There will be time for cuddling later. A whole lifetime's worth, if Yosuke has anything to say about it. For now though, back to work.

Just as carefully as he had with the medicine, Yosuke takes a small amount of lotion, warmed between his hands, and starts to swipe it over the parts of Souji's back that need it most. It's nothing special, just something to help keep chapped skin from cracking open, but Naoto had said to treat it like a sunburn and Yosuke's had enough sunburns in his life to know that dry skin peels in horrible ways. Granted, he's never had the kind of chafing that Souji is dealing with, but he trusts Naoto's advice.

It doesn't take long for him to finish up with Souji's back and sides, gently soothing the lotion into his partner's skin. He hesitates when he gets to Souji's front, which he would try to avoid but there's a bit of irritation on Souji's collarbones and Yosuke is certain the skin further down is probably in need of attention, too. Luckily, Souji is as observant as ever and holds his hand out wordlessly for the bottle. Yosuke presses a kiss to Souji's neck in silent thanks and lets his boyfriend tend to his chest on his own.

While Souji is busy with his chest, Yosuke devotes his attention to Souji's ribs. Slowly, pressing as lightly as he can to start, he uses his lotion-slick hands to smooth across the planes of his partner's body. He digs his fingertips in when it seems he isn't causing Souji any pain, pushes in with the heels of his palms when he can feel Souji stiffen under his touch. He doesn't knead, nor try and undo any knots – there aren't any, really, not around Souji's torso – just gently works his hands over aching bones to try and alleviate the worst of it.

At one point he works up the courage to slip his hands around to the place just below the high points of his partner's chest. He stills, asking for permission with his pause, and Souji gives it in the form of a nod and contented sigh. Yosuke keeps his fingers on safe places; he won't go further up until Souji is ready.

When he finally moves back up to Souji's shoulders, that's when Yosuke finds the knots of stress at their worst. He's always wondered how much his partner – their leader – really carries on his shoulders, both physical and metaphorical. He's seen Souji roll his neck in battle and sometimes it seems less of a way to loosen up before a fight and more like a bid to keep his body from locking. The worst is when they've been under a time crunch, back before, when their friends and team members had been trapped in their own personal hells with only a few days to save them before the next blanket of choking fog.

Yosuke presses his thumb into a spot just between Souji's shoulder blades and feels something shift that makes the other boy groan in appreciation.

All that pressure that Souji works under, the weight he carries, and all of it on top of being in an article of clothing that he should never be fighting in, should never wear as long as he does each and every day. Yosuke feels something in his heart twist at the thought of his boyfriend being in physical discomfort, or even pain nearly constantly because of this. And yet Souji has never once complained. Instead, he bottles everything up and lets it sink like a stone until he's drowning. No wonder Izanagi had seemed so exhausted between his bouts of mania.

And that just leads to another thought that leaves a bitter taste in Yosuke's mouth. Does Souji even get to relax at home? He's too polite, too worried about other people's comfort; it wouldn't surprise Yosuke if Souji wore his binder right up until it was time to head upstairs for the night so that he didn't have to be around his family with nothing on under his shirt.

Yosuke is finally pulled from his thoughts by the sound of shallow, even breathing. He blinks, bringing himself back to the present, back to Souji's bedroom with his boyfriend nestled comfortably between his legs. The sight before him makes his heart stutter in the best of ways.

At some point while Yosuke was absorbed in his musings, hands methodically running patterns along his boyfriend's back, Souji had slumped forward across the coffee table and laid his head in the crook of his own elbow. His eyes are closed now, and from his spot behind him Yosuke can see the delicate way Souji's pale eyelashes rest against his cheek, the way the long day has melted from the lines on his face. Souji looks so peaceful in sleep – it's not something Yosuke gets to see often, but is forever grateful that he's the one that gets to see it when it does happen. Not all of Souji's dreams are good, he knows, but for tonight it looks like his partner is somewhere safe inside his head.

Yosuke sighs. He hates to wake his boyfriend up when he looks so serene, but bent over a coffee table is not a good way to sleep; if Souji's back wasn't already sore, it sure as hell would be after a night spent like that.

Yosuke carefully hoists himself up – trying to let Souji have a few more minutes of peace before he wakes him – and moves as quietly as possible while getting everything squared away. He pulls the futon out and fluffs up the squashed pillows, plugs in both his and Souji's phones, switches off the lights. In the morning, he'll text Rise and Naoto and ask them if they'd please take his partner shopping, since Naoto will know what to look for and Rise can be their foil in case the boy and the gender fluid detective get any strange looks while looking at sports bras. They'll take care of Souji; Yosuke doesn't know if there's anyone he trusts more than their friends.

For now, though, it's late. There's no school tomorrow, no work, no tv world. When they wake up they'll have the house to themselves. There's nothing to rush them or keep them from sleeping in.

When Yosuke finally manages to wake his sleeping boyfriend and usher him into bed – shirt still in a heap in the floor – Souji is dead asleep again the moment his head hits the pillow. Yosuke, however, keeps his eyes open for a while longer, watching the easy rise and fall of Souji's chest as he breathes. He slips his arms around Souji's waist and presses them as close together as he can, so that it's nearly impossible to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

He drifts away like this, wrapped protectively around the person his heart has decided to call home, with Souji's shoulder beneath his lips and a silent promise to help heal him echoing in Yosuke's head.

He wakes in the morning to the sight of Souji's smile.

Fic and chapter titles are taken from 'Feelings' by Hayley Kioko