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“Come here.”
The command surges through him like a bolt of lightning, and before HiMERU even realizes it, his legs are reacting, putting one foot in front of the other and pushing him across the room. The gap between them closes, more and more, and the disgust sitting heavy in his stomach roils around.
It’s horrible, he thinks even as he stops in front of Tatsumi, his hands trembling as if they would reach out and beg for more.
“Good.”
Terrible, HiMERU thinks, but he can’t voice it, his lips fused shut by some power greater than himself.
Tatsumi points at the ground, and HiMERU knows what’s next—and worse yet, knows that he can’t fight it, knows that this is what his body wants, needs, craves.
“Kneel down.”
HiMERU drops to his knees, his head lowered to hide his face, to hide whatever humiliating expression might be painted on its surface. But Tatsumi doesn’t allow that moment of respite to last; HiMERU feels Tatsumi’s trembling fingers glide over his cheek and bury themselves in his hair, and then those strong hands lift his face to meet Tatsumi’s eyes.
What HiMERU sees is uncertainty, concern, pity—It’s maddening. He wants to rip those emotions from Tatsumi’s eyes, tear the frown off his lips, rake his nails down his face and destroy the evidence those feelings ever existed.
But through the burning fire in his chest his hands don’t move—can’t move; he hasn’t received the command.
“You were right, HiMERU-san,” Tatsumi says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re looking much better already.”
HiMERU’s lips are sealed, and it takes all his energy to respond in the only way he can: he forces out a little whine, a pathetic whine, from deep in his throat, and with it he slumps forward onto Tatsumi’s lap, his strength waning with the last of his agency.
Tatsumi’s fingers run through HiMERU’s hair almost absent-mindedly, and HiMERU tries hard not to acknowledge how it makes him feel. “Don’t worry, HiMERU-san. I’ll help you. I’ll take care of you.”
It’s a damning promise, one that makes HiMERU feel nauseous, the disgust rising in his throat until he’s sure he’ll be sick.
But of course, nothing comes out; he hasn’t received the command.
HiMERU’s limbs are heavy as he trudges through the hall. It takes every last drop of his energy to stay upright, to keep his eyes open, to keep moving forward.
Crazy:B’s job today was tiring, but this is something different. And HiMERU isn’t quite ready to admit it, so instead he puts his hand on the wall and hopes that it’ll be enough to keep him steady until he gets back to his room.
The world spins around him, the wall lights bleeding and melding with the walls, the tiled floor mixing with the doors, the room numbers entirely unreadable. It’s fine, HiMERU insists, he’s fine. He knows where his room is. His legs can carry him there even if his eyes can’t see. He’ll make it. And then he’ll sleep off this vertigo and wake up normal.
He’s fine—
His toe catches on something and he lurches forward, his body curling in on itself right before he hits the floor. Sharp pain pounds at his head and pulses through his body—His breath hitches and he gasps, his hand desperately fumbling for purchase that doesn’t exist.
His fingers grasp at air as he struggles to breathe—and his thoughts are consumed and washed clean by his one simple, primal need.
His eyes fall shut, and then there is nothing left.
“—Wake up, HiMERU-san.”
The voice rouses something inside him, lifts his heavy body just enough for his eyes to flutter open and take in a sharp, painful breath.
He hears the scrape of a chair against wood and then the rustle of thick fabric, and HiMERU can’t help but turn his head to the source of the noise—the source of the voice.
He regrets it instantly. Tatsumi is there, hovering over him like a lion cornering its prey. HiMERU hurriedly looks away, though he finds it almost impossible to tear his eyes from him.
He’s in an unfamiliar dorm room, and that alone scares him. It must be Tatsumi’s, if they’re here together, but that doesn’t solve the glaring issue—What if his roommate finds them?
He’s able to lift his lips into a snarl with great effort, but when he turns to direct his glare toward Tatsumi, it falls from his face.
“HiMERU-san,” Tatsumi says, reaching out his hand and placing it on HiMERU’s shoulder. “I found you collapsed in the hall earlier. I couldn’t find your room key and I didn’t want to invade your privacy, so I brought you back to my room. Are you all right?”
HiMERU swallows and opens his mouth—but no words come out. Of course not; he’s still too weak, too far gone. He fucked up this time for sure, went too long without the relief, relied too much on his weak will.
Tatsumi’s brow furrows, and he massages his thumb into HiMERU’s shoulder. “Come on, tell me what happened.”
It’s like a switch, and when Tatsumi flips it HiMERU’s body feels light and pliable, strong and capable. The command sends a shudder down his spine and the words flow from his mouth easily, freely, eager to comply with Tatsumi’s wishes.
Fortunately, he has enough control to hedge around the full truth. “It’s nothing serious. HiMERU only suffered a weak spell and fainted. He’ll be fine if he rests a bit.”
Tatsumi bites his lip. “That’s not like you at all. Are you not eating well? Tell me the truth.”
HiMERU squeezes his eyes shut as the command works itself through his body and forces his mouth open once more. He can’t help it, he—“It’s HiMERU’s constitution. He needs…”
“Needs?” Tatsumi repeats, far too gently for someone who has HiMERU so completely under his control. It’s the worst-case scenario, the one thing he vowed he would never let Tatsumi have over him.
“Please,” he says, and the word twists his gut and pierces through his mind as he submits, unable to stop himself, “tell HiMERU what to do.”
As soon as he has the willpower to do so, HiMERU sits up and puts some distance between them. Tatsumi’s hand fall to his side, but HiMERU only sees it out of the corner of his eye; he refuses to look at him.
“So then,” Tatsumi says, his voice cool and collected, “you can’t disobey any command someone gives you?”
“…No,” HiMERU says, wrinkling his nose. “HiMERU can ignore most commands, except for…”
The room is quiet for a moment, and when HiMERU still doesn’t continue, Tatsumi leans in closer. “What is it?”
HiMERU shuffles away yet again. “Except when he is very weak, and except for the ones spoken by his…”
Tatsumi raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t press further. “And you get weaker the longer you go without engaging in this kind of activity.”
HiMERU nods once. Short, to the point. He doesn’t have to give himself over to Tatsumi anymore. He’s sure he has the strength to resist him now, and he intends to exercise that freedom to its fullest extent.
“I see,” Tatsumi muses. “That’s an interesting constitution you have there. God puts us all through trials, but I must say yours sounds like quite the burden.”
“HiMERU is uninterested in a god who gives out curses so freely,” HiMERU says, venom in his voice.
Tatsumi either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care to respond. “Regardless, I did say I would help you, HiMERU-san.”
HiMERU vaguely recalls him whispering that in his ear when his entire consciousness had been consumed by Tatsumi, Tatsumi, Tatsumi. He frowns, trying to come up with some way to decline his offer that doesn’t end with him wrapping his hands around Tatusmi’s throat and squeezing—but in the end he just nods weakly.
“I don’t like seeing you so weak,” Tatsumi says, and HiMERU’s eyes are unwittingly drawn to his. They’re squinting, and HiMERU’s jaw clenches when he recognizes the same concern as before.
“HiMERU doesn’t want your pity, Tatsumi,” he spits. “He’ll be fine.”
He will be. He’s already stronger after just one session; he feels that strength coursing through his muscles and relaxing his mind. And if those moments with Tatsumi were more abnormally effective than any of the sessions he’s succumbed to in the past, then that’s a detail he’d much rather overlook.
Tatsumi frowns and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stares at HiMERU for a moment, and then: “HiMERU-san. Come here.”
HiMERU prepares himself to fight the command. He strains his muscles and digs his fingers into the wood floor and—
—it’s completely useless. As soon as his hands touch the wood he’s crawling on his knees back over to where Tatsumi sits on the couch, eyes wide as he stares down at his traitorous limbs.
He only stops when his hands brush against Tatsumi’s foot, when his arm is pressed against his leg. He remains there, perfectly in place, unable to even shift into a less compromising and humiliating position, as Tatsumi brushes back HiMERU’s hair and tucks it behind his ear.
“Why did you—?” HiMERU starts, curling his fingers in on themselves.
“Good,” Tatsumi coos, and the gentle lilt of his voice bombards HiMERU, the sound seeping through his skin and making him melt into Tatsumi’s touch. He collapses, finally breaking out of his position only to find himself leaning against Tatsumi, his very body asking for, pleading for more. “I thought so.”
“Just what did you think?” HiMERU seethes through clenched teeth.
“You’re not fine at all,” Tatsumi says. “Otherwise you would have resisted the command. Am I correct?”
It’s impossible, HiMERU thinks. He should have been able to resist. He should have been strong enough, placated enough. He knows this. And yet—
“Tell me what you’re thinking, HiMERU-san,” Tatsumi commands. “Don’t keep me in the dark about this, please.”
The words are like a stone dropped in a pond, his voice a ripple that sends a warm, calming tingle throughout his body. “HiMERU is thinking you should stop giving him commands.”
Tatsumi chuckles, puts his hand on HiMERU’s shoulder again. Doesn’t he realize that’s not helping?! “I had that one coming, I’ll admit. But I can’t shake the feeling that you won’t be honest with me unless I resort to this. Right?”
HiMERU nods miserably into Tatsumi’s leg, unable to stop himself.
“That’s exactly what I figured.” Tatsumi sighs. “So please, HiMERU-san, explain what’s going on.”
The command pries HiMERU’s mouth open despite his best efforts to keep it clenched shut. “HiMERU doesn’t understand, himself. He should be strong enough now to resist your commands, but…”
“But?”
With a shudder, he continues. “There is one possibility. HiMERU cannot resist any command when he’s weak… or any command that comes from his partner.”
Even just acknowledging the potentiality of it makes him feel sick. And in any case—
“But a partnership is supposed to be formed from a willing contract between us—no, any two people, HiMERU means to say.”
“Hmm.” Tatsumi’s hand sears into HiMERU’s skin, so hot that he’s nearly convinced it’ll brand him.
There’s a pit of anxiety in his stomach, and the longer Tatsumi burns into him, the less sure he is that a contract wasn’t somehow formed. He searches through his index of memories, trying desperately to piece the puzzle together and find some kind of answer, something that can explain what’s going on—and more importantly, something that can fix it.
“Then perhaps one such contract was made when I promised to help you?” Tatsumi guesses.
HiMERU scoffs. “That’s not possible. That was—”
He breaks off, jaw going slack. Tatsumi squeezes his shoulder. “Tell me, HiMERU-san: Was that possible?”
“…Yes,” he forces out through the lump in his throat. “Yes, it was possible. In his weakness, HiMERU accepted your help and desired more of it. That might have been enough.”
“I see,” Tatsumi says.
“Is that really all you have to say?” HiMERU finally looks up at him, and he’s shocked to find Tatsumi smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s just that I’m glad.”
“You’re glad?!” HiMERU demands, heat prickling at his face. He musters up the strength to push away from Tatsumi, falling back onto the floor behind him.
“Ah—no, that’s not what I meant.” Tatsumi laughs into his hand, and even now HiMERU can feel the sting of it on his flesh. “I wanted to help you, and now I can. That’s what I’m happy about.”
HiMERU doesn’t want Kazehaya Tatsumi’s help. He doesn’t want to expose this shameful, vulnerable part of himself to his most loathed enemy. But—
“Let me help you, HiMERU-san,” Tatsumi says. “Let me share the burden of God’s trial with you.”
But when he says it like that, HiMERU is helpless to resist. And when he submits fully, gives himself over to Tatsumi, there’s a lightness in his heart and a peace in his mind that knows no parallel.
It makes him sick.
“HiMERU-san.”
Even just Tatsumi calling out his name is enough to make HiMERU stand alert, his mind consumed with thoughts of Tatsumi as he waits for the command. His fingers twitch, his gut clenches, his eyes dart around impatiently—He waited too long again, and now he’s paying the consequences.
But it’ll be over soon, he tells himself. Tatsumi will make the pain go away. And right now, he’s not in a state of mind to be disgusted by the very thought of that.
“I won’t do anything you don’t like,” Tatsumi assures him. “We’ll start with something light. Is that okay with you?”
He’s avoiding giving HiMERU a command. Of course he is—that bastard saint, so perfectly accommodating and giving in whatever way he’s needed to be. But HiMERU’s breathing is labored; he needs the command to feel calm, to feel whole.
He forces a nod.
“All right. Then I’ll begin.” Tatsumi taps his chin for a moment, and every tap feels like it’s beating into HiMERU, the anxiety and frustration and pain growing with each passing second. “I’ve got something: Sit next to me.”
A wave of relief bashes into him and propels him forward, an ocean of eager excitement swimming around his feet as he crosses his own dorm room and finds a seat next to Tatsumi on the bench. They’re close, too close for HiMERU’s comfort, but he can barely feel it through the lightness in his chest and the static in his mind that blocks out everything but Tatsumi.
“Hmm,” Tatsumi hums, his face carefully neutral as he appraises HiMERU before him. HiMERU wants to shake him, wants to urge him to just get on with it, but he can’t. Not now, not when he’s too weak to properly act without a command. “Now, raise your right arm.”
HiMERU’s brow furrows as his arm raises, and though the relief that comes with obeying a command washes over him, it’s small, muted.
“Good,” Tatsumi says. “Is this enough for you, HiMERU-san?”
“Keep going,” HiMERU chokes out. “It’s not enough.”
Tatsumi tilts his head. “Really? Okay… Then, give me your hand.”
HiMERU’s hand feels small inside Tatsumi’s grasp, and that feeling is only amplified by the shame that burns his skin and clenches his stomach. But he frowns, confusion freezing the burns, when Tatsumi starts shaking it. And as difficult as it is to speak right now, he nonetheless ekes out, “Tatsumi, what are you doing?”
“A handshake,” Tatsumi says with some kind of undue confidence. “Is that all right? I’m having trouble thinking of commands to give you.”
HiMERU sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose with the hand that isn’t preoccupied with Tatsumi. “No it’s—HiMERU needs something more to be satisfied.”
“More?”
HiMERU doesn’t want to say it. It’s too humiliating, even when he’s already in such a compromising position.
“Explain it to me, HiMERU-san.”
“HiMERU needs something more intimate,” he says, his face burning hot. He looks away in shame even as his chest flutters. “Simple commands will tide him over for now, but they won’t help in the long run.” And HiMERU absolutely does not want to keep having to run back to Tatsumi over and over and over again. He needs this done right, and he needs this done now.
“Hm, all right. I’ll give it a shot.” Tatsumi frowns. He squeezes HiMERU’s hand and then lets go. “HiMERU-san—Look at me.”
HiMERU does; of course he does.
Tatsumi looks down at himself, as if contemplating something, but when he looks up his eyes are gentle and determined. “Give me a hug.”
What?
His nose wrinkles even as his arms wrap around Tatsumi. His embrace is warm and inviting, but even HiMERU can’t tell what’s real and what’s a product of the delirious ecstasy in his mind as Tatsumi holds him close.
“That’s good, you’re doing well,” Tatsumi says, his voice low and breathy in HiMERU’s ear. HiMERU shivers at the praise. “How’s this then, HiMERU-san?”
And oh, it’s good. Giving in feels so good, even if the putrid stench of Tatsumi fills his nose when he breathes in, even if the one he’s clinging to so desperately is the very man he hates so much. The closer he is, the less pain he feels, the less frustration burns in his gut. He needs this, needs Tatsumi, needs—
Ah, HiMERU thinks as he clings tighter to Tatsumi’s sweater. It’s not enough.
“HiMERU-san?” Tatsumi’s voice is soft, uncertain.
“It’s not enough,” he repeats.
Tatsumi pulls away, that pitying look returned to his eyes. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want, HiMERU-san. I don’t want to push you too far.”
“That’s—” His voice breaks. “You don’t understand at all. HiMERU needs—”
“What do you need?”
He knows what he needs. The pit rolling around in his stomach, the twitching of his skin, the desperation clawing at his throat—
He digs his fingers into Tatsumi until Tatsumi jerks and gasps, pushing away. Letting HiMERU break free.
And HiMERU dives right back in, clamping his hands down around Tatsumi’s arms and pushing him back, pushing him down against the bench, watching him sink into the cushion under the weight HiMERU puts on him as he traps him under his knee.
“HiMERU-san—” Tatsumi’s eyes are wide. Not fearful, just surprised.
It drives HiMERU mad.
“HiMERU needs more, you idiot,” he seethes. “More than this, more—”
“Like what?” Tatsumi asks, so carelessly neutral and unfazed.
HiMERU squeezes Tatsumi’s arms tight, and then squeezes harder when he still gets no reaction out of him. “More, like—”
He groans miserably when he finds he can’t go any further, sinking down until his forehead rests on Tatsumi’s chest.
“Make me submit to you.”
HiMERU’s head bobs up and down when Tatsumi coughs, taken by surprise. “Pardon?”
HiMERU shudders. “Please.”
Tatsumi’s bicep ripples as he lifts his arm, and he shows a small moment of hesitation before resting his hand on HiMERU’s leg. As if it were to comfort him. As if it were to reassure him.
As if.
But then Tatsumi’s whole demeanor changes. HiMERU feels it underneath him: the hardening of his entire body, the slight shift in his aura. HiMERU starts to look up—
“Get off.”
HiMERU scrambles to obey, his arms and legs moving without conscious thought, his mind consumed with the commanding tone of Tatsumi’s voice. His mind consumed with Tatsumi himself.
“On the floor.”
HiMERU slinks off the bench and drops unceremoniously to the floor. The power in Tatsumi’s voice is irresistible, and even as he growls he lowers his head to the floor, shivering in anticipation.
Tatsumi reaches out and cups his face, and HiMERU’s skin crawls at the mere touch of skin on skin. “Take off your jacket.”
HiMERU blinks incredulously. His hands are quick to work the fabric, the static in his mind clouding his confusion and shock at what he’s being made to do. As the blazer falls to the floor, he looks up. “Tatsumi—”
“Now your shirt.” Tatsumi’s eyes are hard, almost cold. HiMERU can’t see anything within them as he fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, the cold air seeping in against his bare skin.
He nearly tears the shirt as he peels it off of him, desperation making him work faster, clumsier, and HiMERU stares into Tatsumi’s eyes searching, wondering what he could possibly be doing to him.
When his hands discard the shirt in a heap next to his jacket, they begin to itch, seeking something else, something more. Waiting eagerly for their next command. The cool air presses down onto him, and he shivers as Tatsumi appraises him, no emotion betraying even a single thought on his face.
HiMERU sits there on his knees, hands clenching and unclenching, his torso exposed under Tatsumi’s scrutiny. And oh, he finally gets it. He understands what Tatsumi is doing.
The realization is enough to bring a half-smirk, half-snarl to his lips.
“Now,” Tatsumi says, and his voice is enough to banish all extraneous thoughts from HiMERU’s mind, “Kiss me.”
HiMERU lunges forward, hands grabbing at Tatsumi before he’s even consciously aware of it. Tatsumi just sits there as HiMERU pulls himself up, pathetic and needy, his lips pressing into Tatsumi’s hand, his wrist, his neck—anywhere but his mouth. He wouldn’t dare occupy the lips from which those delicious commands come.
Tatsumi cranes his neck as HiMERU buries his head in it, but he says nothing, makes no noise, makes no sound at all. Every muffled groan and desperate whimper comes from HiMERU’s mouth. It’s pathetic, it’s disgusting, it’s a scenario he’s only seen in his worst nightmares.
Kazehaya Tatsumi, Kazehaya Tatsumi, Kazehaya Tatsumi—
It’s the only thought in his head. As his lips work their way across what little skin Tatsumi has exposed, even his shame is consumed by Tatsumi, even his humiliation and disgust. Tatsumi’s scent encircles him and carries him forward, no longer nauseating, no longer so repulsive.
“More,” Tatsumi commands, and HiMERU is eager to comply, wasting no time nearly devouring him in his quest for validation, for total submission.
HiMERU only realizes he’s crying when he tastes the salt on his tongue as it drags along Tatsumi’s skin. But it doesn’t bother him; he has no thought to spare for something so trivial, not when his Tatsumi is right before him, waiting on him to obey.
“Give yourself to me, HiMERU-san,” Tatsumi whispers in a voice that echoes in HiMERU’s head, that attacks him in an onslaught he’s helpless to resist.
And so he—and so I do, I give myself to him, I curl into his sturdy body desperately, miserably, needing him more and more even as my skin burns hot.
In this moment there’s only Kazehaya Tatsumi, his soft, steady breathing the only lifeline I have left as he whispers more, more in my ear.
I give him more.
I give him everything I have.
I give him my pain, my humiliation, my pride, my body.
Kazehaya Tatsumi—
Take it all.
HiMERU wakes not to a command, but to fingers running gentle strokes through his hair. He’s slow to respond, his body sluggish and fatigued. And besides, he already knows who’s there, whose fingers are touching his skin, whose breath counts seconds as they pass.
“Tatsumi,” he groans, rolling over. But he rolls the wrong way, because when he opens his eyes he’s met with gentle purple.
“Good morning, HiMERU-san.” Tatsumi smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Did you sleep well?”
He did. Though weary and languid, he already feels so much stronger than he has in weeks. But he’s not so inclined to give Tatsumi the satisfaction, so he just grunts, short and quiet, relishing in the smug ambiguity of the response.
Tatsumi continues his rhythmic strokes, and it takes all of HiMERU’s newfound willpower not to nuzzle into his soothing hand. “I’m glad. You did well last night, you know.”
The praise washes over him more strongly than any command Tatsumi could give him, and he can’t suppress the shiver that runs down his spine. Tatsumi doesn’t seem to notice it, though, or perhaps he simply doesn’t acknowledge it.
“Where did you get all that from?” HiMERU asks.
“Hm?” The hand stops moving just for a moment, and HiMERU hates himself for missing it. “CosPro is quite adept at teaching its idols to act out a role on stage.”
HiMERU hums. “So that’s all it was to you; a play.”
Not that he particularly minds. The less intimate they are, the less real this whole thing is, the better.
“But I was able to help you,” Tatsumi says, and HiMERU can’t deny that. “And I’m happy I could. So please, HiMERU-san, make use of me whenever you need this.”
HiMERU squeezes his eyes shut as the command sinks into him and sticks like honey. It had to have been on purpose; Tatsumi is too smart to make a stupid mistake like that.
“I will.”
A useless answer, since Tatsumi already knows the outcome of it all. He has HiMERU in the palm of his hand now, total dominion over his mind and body.
He hates it less than he’d prefer.
Tatsumi removes his hand from HiMERU’s head entirely, only to grasp HiMERU’s hand with it. “Let us thank God that we could deepen our relationship in this way, and that I could protect you from those who might use your condition for evil.”
HiMERU finds himself nodding, even as he sees the irony in those very words. Evil… HiMERU can’t think of any evil greater than being so bound to his worst enemy.
His thanks to Tatsumi’s god is followed by a scathing curse, one he has full control over, one Tatsumi can’t influence in any way.
It’s something he holds onto, along with Tatsumi’s warm, gentle hand.