dinohouse | [Mushverse] For Eiji

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[Mushverse] For Eiji

I stumble into the restaurant, long after the sun has set, after the place has closed. I giggle when the door bangs behind me, and watch it as it swings shut, as it locks itself. I used to always go in through the window, but now I find I can't reach it, no matter how agile I'm feeling.

I trip on something, maybe just the floor, and halfway fall into a table, laughing sharp and shrill as I do. I smack it once with my hand, the same way I smacked Kazari on the shoulder and declared we'd always be brothers, even though neither of us are Greeeds anymore.

That was around the third bottle of sake, after my cheeks went numb, and before my fingers and toes joined them. He's a good cat, he made sure none of my food had any bird meat in it.

And he made sure I got home without wandering off and trying to climb any trees. Well, no more than he tried to.

Oh.

The room is spinning.

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I'm sure he'll be back soon, and it's not like I don't have things to do.

I've scrubbed the kitchen twice, then I vacuumed our bedroom. Now I'm working industriously on the saucepans with a toothbrush. They're clean, but they could be cleaner!

There's a noise. I lift my head hopefully. I won't call out to him straight away so I don't look needy. I wait at least half a second, then head out towards the main door. "Ankh?"

I am trying to stand up straight again. But the floor has become very unstable. Not quite liquid, but all mushy; my feet don't quite know how to keep me upright on it anymore.

Oh. His voice.

"Eiji?"

I push myself away from the table, only to sway and trip again. And laugh (practically giggle) as I almost fall again and have to steady myself against a different nearby table.

I gasp, and dart over to him to help him stand. "Are you all-"

Oh.

Drunk. Drunker than drunk. I grin. "It went well, huh?"

I laugh - giggle - again, and try my best to nod solemnly at Eiji, without meeting his eyes. I can't, not right now. "Kazari is a fine young cat, and we should send him a fruit- fish basket in the morning."

I stumble a bit, doing my best to scoot past Eiji. "Now if you will excuse me..."

"I'm glad," I grin.

He tries to get past me, but I block him with little effort. "Ankh, have you been drunk before? You need to drink some water and take aspirin or something before you go to bed."

I blink at his feet, then shake my head. "How would have I ever been drunk before?"

I push away from him, with some effort, and try to stand on my own. "I couldn't even taste food on my own before, remember? All borrowed taste buds. Borrowed body."

Borrowed life.

Ah, he's sounding sad now! "I know, I know, just a question, don't look like that," I say hastily. "Let me help you to bed then I'll get you some water, okay?"

"Always helping, always doing the right thing." My throat tightens painfully, like all the muscles in it are trying to choke me.

He doesn't get it. Doesn't understand. "So many things unsaid. Always."

I fumble a bit in the general direction of the kitchen, with the vague idea of food on my mind.

"That's how it always is with is." Stupid, stupid. Dumb bird. Birdbrain. Dumb bird brain in love.

"I like helping you," I say, at a loss. I don't know what's wrong. He's been tense and worried about me getting hurt, about me fighting again. Is it that?

I dart next to him, close enough for support if he wants. "Are you hungry? Chiyoko-san's in bed, I can make you something...?"

I shrug, not really hungry, just looking for something to do that isn't look at Eiji and his eyes. His wide open eyes that look at me like I'm something precious.

They look at everyone like they're something precious though, don't they? That's how he looks at the world that he still wants to protect.

"There are enough heroes." I mutter as I stumble into the kitchen. "You've done your time."

Ice candy in the freezer, just like old times. I grab one, tossing the wrapper aside.

There's a half empty bottle of alcohol on the counter, wine, or something similar. No doubt Chiyoko's after work indulgence. I pour a large amount into a wide cup, and then drop my ice pop in it.

"I don't know about that," I say uneasily as I follow him. He's having more alcohol. He's allowed to, I'm not his dad, and I don't want to make decisions for him, but...

But he's upset, and he's never been drunk before, and I have a duty to at least try to make him be aware of how bad he'll feel.

"Maybe you've had enough alcohol?" I suggest lightly. "I can get you something nicer?"

I take a heavy gulp of my drink, after nudging the stick of the ice pop out of the way with my nose. It's not exactly a pleasant combination of flavors, but it'll do for now.

I just want to be numb. I want to not worry anymore, not have all these thoughts and emotions and feelings. Not feel like the world is closing in around me. Like my life is spinning out of my control.

Not fear for Eiji's life. Not feel like I don't have a purpose anymore.

"I wish I was still Greeed." I mutter into my cup.

I let out a soft oof at that, a hand up in instinctive protest. But no. No, he's drunk, it doesn't mean he was happier before he became human. I must be conscientious about that. He's drunk, he won't be saying things the way he would when sober.

Though maybe that's the point.

I battle the hurt back down inside. He matters right now, not my silly feelings. "How do you mean?" I ask softly, shifting so I can sit close to him.

I glance at him, as I lean back against the counter, just briefly, but enough to just barely catch his gaze.

"It hurts," I take another heavy gulp of my drink, then clutch at my chest, at my shirt just over my heart. My new heart. Mine. Under a year old. "It hurts in here. It hurts really bad."

I look at him proper, my eyes wavering. "But you don't care. You want me to go on hurting."

I 'tch' with a click of my tongue, and look away from him, look back into my steadily diminishing drink. "You wouldn't understand. How could you?"

"It hurts?" I repeat, horrified. I move to him and place a gentle hand over his heart. "No, I don't want you to hurt. H-How can you say that?"

I can't believe this. It's meant to be a good time. I can transform again, I can actually help, and we're together, and he's finding friendship with Kazari, and we're working at Cous Coussier... But it means just about nothing if he's upset like this.

I stare at him, as his hand presses against my chest. Memories wash over me, recent times together, recent intimacy. Before his hospital time, before I thought I was going to lose him.

Clutching at him. Crying. Trying to find his heartbeat.

"You're going to keep on fighting." I finish my drink and stare down into its empty depths. I just...

"You're going to keep on fucking fighting." I fling my cup at the wall, watching the glass shatter.

"Yes, I am," I say cautiously, but he finishes his drink and just stares into the cup. Motionless. Silent.

It's not like we haven't talked about this at all. It's not like this is a surprise. He knows I'm fighting. He came with me to visit Kougami-san, after all. It's also not a surprise that he's not completely happy about it.

But the depth of his feelings? The twisted up confusingness of this? That's a surprise.

I didn't know. I -- I should've paid more attention.

He hurls his cup at the wall, and I grimace, then dart to get the dustpan and brush.

He darts away, but I don't let him get very far. I grab at his arm, clutching hard and yanking, dragging him back toward me.

I... I shove him around, pushing him back against the counter. Hard. I want it to hurt. I want him to feel a fraction of what I'm feeling.

I grab both his wrists, tight, but not digging my nails in like I want to. I hold them up, moving in close to him. I stare at him. Hard.

I drop one of his wrists, instead grabbing at his hair, yanking hard and guiding his face where I need it.

I kiss him, so forcefully I think I might split both out bottom lips in the process.

I'm not far from the dustpan when a grip on my arm pulls me back. Startled, I feel the counter impact painfully on my lower back as he shoves at me.

He's holding me by the wrists, hard enough to hurt. Not hard enough to hurt. I blink at him, befuddled, then he pulls my head around and his mouth crashes against mine.

I mmf in protest, not sure what he's trying to prove. Not sure what he wants. Not sure what he needs.

But it's Ankh, and he's kissing me, and of all people I want to be open to him. So I kiss him back. I don't match his ferocity. I just kiss him, one hand gripping his waist gently, the other one cupping his face.

I kiss him harder than I even have before, all sucking on swollen lips and teeth clicking biting. I kiss him until my lungs burn from lack of breath, and then a little longer.

I'm so angry, so upset. I don't know what to do with my feelings. I don't know how to put them into words.

My hips press against his, pressing him harder against the counter. I'm still near pinching his wrist, still pulling on his hair.

The counter top is a ridge of pain along my lower back, and though I want to keep accepting, keep being pliant, it's hard not to grimace. He's so insistent, so furious, so... so drunk.

I tug my arm a little, seeing if he'll at least let go of my wrist.

I practically growl into his mouth. That little tug he gives at his arm making me grip all the harder. Nails digging in.

I want him to hurt like I hurt. I want him to know how scared I am.

Somewhere inside I know this is wrong. That I should be treating him sweetly, gently. Should be showing him how much I love him.

I bite his lip so hard it splits, I can taste the light tang of blood. I lap it up and swallow.

He growls, squeezing my wrist harder, then I feel a flash of pain as he... actually bites my lip hard enough to break the skin. What the-

He's swallowing my blood.

I pull my head back, awkwardly because he has a grip on my hair still and I'd prefer it to stay attached to my head. A tiny trickle of blood is warm on my lower lip. "Ankh, enough," I say firmly.

No. It's not enough. It's never enough. He doesn't understand. He has no idea what I'm feeling. How badly my chest... my heart hurts.

I step closer to him, hooking one foot around one of his ankles and pushing aside, spreading his legs wide. I press in closer, licking the blood from his lips again, as I grab at both his wrists, hard, fingertips leaving bruises.

I can't think about how I could have hurt him when I was still a Greeed. I am not that strong anymore, no where near.

I shift slightly, getting my free leg between his, and practically crushing my hipbone against his dick, using the friction of the cloth between us to my advantage.

He doesn't respond verbally. Just grabs my wrists, hard, and licks at my lip again. I tilt my head back but I'm stuck against the counter. Nowhere to go.

I'm not terrified, because we're basically matched in strength, but I'm unsettled as hell. He's so upset. I don't want to try to force him off me yet.

He steps in closer, getting me off balance with a leg in between mine, making me yelp.

...of course I'm getting hard. "How about we sit down and talk about this properly?" I attempt. "Maybe in the morning, after you've slept?"

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{let me know if this gets too heavy for you. I personally have very few triggers]

Nooo worries. TRIGGER WARNING for anyone reading along, for sexual assault a la Spike & Buffy.

Not QUITE as harsh as Spike and Buffy, but, along those lines. (just adding to the warning)

Re: Not QUITE as harsh as Spike and Buffy, but, along those lines. (just adding to the warning)