A/N: Hullo there readers! This would have to be my first post in the Uraboku section, I think. And I am excited to be starting anew with this. I hope you enjoy it, but the warning of it being rubbish applies here. After all, I knocked it up in about two hours, hahaha...

Rating: T for now.

Warnings: some suggestiveness, adult themes.

Pairing: Hotsuma/Shusei loveliness.

Summary: Hotsuma's hands felt like dead weights, too careful to grip and too gentle to be meaningful. "I'm not made of glass, Hotsuma. You don't have to be so gentle; I'm not going to break." Hotsuma's brows furrowed. "Sometimes... I'm afraid you will."

As a side note, this could be continued on... but not sure quite yet, so for now - one-shot!

Ablutions

Part One/?

It was so easy sitting next to Hostuma like this, the glow of the video game on the television screen illuminating the two bodies in the darkness of their room. It was all so simple, their shoulders brushing every now and again when Hostuma's brain thought that shifting his body with the controller in his hands made all the difference in his game.

Shusei pretended to watch the screen with interest, finding it difficult not to just loosen his rising tension and lean against the other for support. But he couldn't let that happen. The minute he connected with his partner, he would seal his fate, and beyond that point, Shusei wouldn't be able to flee. He was having enough trouble already. He shouldn't have even been there. Yet, for all of Shusei's repression, there was still that tiny part of him that longed to be with the other, that convinced him to come back one more time.

Shusei hated that part. It made everything so... complex. It tied him down, constricted him. Shusei had felt completely numb the past few weeks. Undetected through the group though – he held his mask well. So much so, that industrial super glue could not have done a better job. He slid lifelessly through his daily routines, like a ghost without purpose, devoid of meaning. The only one to notice his lack of discourse was Hotsuma, of course. His fieriness the heat that could melt the glue which held everything of Shusei's so firmly in place. He hated how he could undo him with merely a glance, at times. Everything would have been so much easier without Hotsuma in the picture; Shusei could have died without restraint, without regret.

"Ah, damn!"

Hotsuma had lost his game. He'd made the careless mistake of barging into an unsecure room without the proper backup, Shusei's mind remarked, despite his distracted state. Impulsive twit.

"What are you smirking at, huh?" Hotsuma sent his partner a glare, his frustration coursing through his words without actually meaning the harsh contempt that they resembled.

"Apparently you're chronic inability to be patient," Shusei commented breathily, golden eyes playful.

Hotsuma's eye twitched, but he let it go without resorting to the usual violence he exhumed when Kuroto was ever near. He was used to the jabs that Shusei delivered him, but that kid... that damn arrogance just unravelled him. Hotsuma returned to his game, hitting the restart button. "Didn't see you at dinner," he stated dryly with just a hint of suspicion.

"Wasn't hungry," Shusei replied. Dryer.

Hotsuma's player in the game was shot and a 'GAME OVER' screen splattered with blood flashed over the television. He threw down the remote and turned on his side, pinning Shusei's shoulders against the edge of the bed they'd been sitting up against with his hands. They were hot and tense, their heat seeping through Shusei's shirt to his skin. Hotsuma's eyes matched that same heat, scorning the brunette without needing to use any words.

"You need to eat something."

Ah. So the tables had turned. When had that happened?

Hotsuma's hands felt like dead weights, too careful to grip and too gentle to be meaningful.

"I'm not made of glass, Hotsuma. You don't have to be so gentle; I'm not going to break."

Hotsuma's brows furrowed. "Sometimes... I'm afraid you will." With that, he withdrew his touch and rolled back so he was kneeling in front of his partner. "Doesn't help the fact that you look so thin and sick," he added gruffly.

"My apologies." That was all Shusei could offer. His darker side was not to be shared with, especially not with Hotsuma.

Hotsuma grunted. "Don't be sorry to me, you idiot."

But Shusei was. Absently, he fingered his scars concealed beneath his shirt, the marred skin tingling sensitively at his touch.

Hotsuma gave no warning to his partner before he scooted forward and clasped Shusei in his arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Shusei's depths widened.

"Why would you do that?" he whispered against Shusei's neck, the flesh prickling at the contact.

Shusei chose not to reply, waiting instead for Hotsuma to establish some definite context to his yammering.

"You just... you gave up, and I don't know why. I had to save you."

Shusei stiffened, his tension cutting raggedly through the air. "Hotsuma..."

Hotsuma nuzzled further into the crease of his partner's neck, pushing his soft lips against Shusei's skin.

This was too much. Shusei tried to shrug the other off, but the body refused to unwind itself or let go. Internally, Shusei panicked.

"Everyone has left me. Everyone. You can't leave me too."

It was an order. One which could not possibly be honoured. Shusei just kept hurting him with everything – the memories and the scars, both physical and emotional. He'd inflicted too much trauma on his partner for their relationship to ever be healthy. And besides, Shusei had done his duty – subdued Hotsuma until Yuki arrived. He should have been able to leave now without remorse, without anything to draw him back to the surface. But for some reason, Hotsuma was still clutching him, tethering his existence to his own, even as Shusei slipped further down into the pit of Hell.

"I have hurt you in unspeakable ways, Hotsuma. I cannot keep living beside you only to cause you hurt again," Shusei exclaimed, his voice suddenly raspy. There was too much heat; the glue had begun to soften.

"Have you forgotten already that I've hurt you too?" At the powerful memory, Hotsuma ran his fingers under the rim of Shusei's white shirt, trailing them with feather-light touches across his tummy, up to his nipple, pausing there for a moment before travelling northbound to the mass of reminders of what he'd done.

Shusei bit down on the gasp that threatened to escape the strict confines of his mouth. "H-Hotsuma..."

"We've both hurt one another." Hotsuma left his hand on the marred flesh, his heart aching. "We're together on this. We have to be," he murmured.

With the words burning soundly in his mind, Shusei's mask started to melt away.

A/N: hey guys, drop me a review if you're inclined. Thanks for reading!