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figurativepieceoftrash · 9 months

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Prompt 9: Say you love me

"Say you love me."

Not a question, but a command. Comfortingly familiar and gratingly predictable all at once. Pathetic, too, Sorahiko has come to realize. For all his bluster and projected confidence, Hisashi is damningly insecure.

Not that he knows it, of course. He could never be so self-aware. Sorahiko isn't exactly certain he wants him to be, though.

"Give me a reason to and maybe I will," he replies with begrudging interest, because it's ten in the morning, and the shirt he's wearing isn't his, and maybe, just maybe, he's a little bit pathetic too.

"So demanding." There's a touch of mockery in that. Sorahiko feels an arm close around his waist, pulling him ever so slightly into Hisashi's orbit, before a quick peck dusts his cheek. "There, is that enough for you? I'm not especially inclined to take you back to bed now, so it'll have to do regardless."

Inadvertently, the bridge of Sorahiko's nose wrinkles. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you smell like eggs." Sorahiko feels the head on his shoulder incline, pointedly towards the stove at his waist. "That's the worst omelet I've ever seen, by the way. You know you're supposed to remove the shells, don't you?"

A growl. "I did."

"Then what's that lumpy bit there?"

Sorahiko's eyes follow the path of Hisashi's finger. He honestly can't parse where its target lies. As loathe as he is to admit it, the entire omelet is a mess.

"Just be grateful I'm cooking you anything, you–"

"Let's not get heated Sorahiko, you know I'm only teasing." That elicits an eye roll. Sorahiko knows quite the opposite. He isn't. Not entirely, anyways. "In truth, I find this domestic side of yours rather endearing. To force yourself through something you're so humiliatingly inept at, and all for my sake… I had no idea I held such an impressive sway over you."

"Fuck off."

"Ah, but not so impressive, it seems. I supplied the reason, did I not? A kiss and a compliment in one, I'm certain that's enough to fulfill my end of the bargain. So now you say…?" he trails off, pointedly pulling away from the two's considerably prolonged embrace.

Sorahiko hates that he misses the warmth. He hates it even more once he catches on to the familiar note in Hisashi's phrasing. Bargain.

Over the course of their intermittent and considerably rocky relationship, Sorahiko has come to learn, with increasing intensity and emphasis, that Hisashi sees the world entirely and exclusively in terms of transaction.

An expensive, candlelit dinner in exchange for sex. An apartment key for one-sided, yet ineffably binding romantic exclusivity. A name for a name. Breakfast for a button down. Physical affection for verbal affirmation.

Sorahiko doesn't mind it, per se. He likes knowing the terms of his relationship. The boundaries, the expectations, the do's and don'ts. It's no secret that he struggles with displays of affection, and Hisashi evokes them in ways that are obviously permissible, if not entirely free.

But it does feel… obsessive, on occasion. Demanding. Almost religious in its ritualism.

And even so, he's powerless in the face of it.

"I love you."

Why does he mean it, when he says it?

Sorahiko would like to think it's because he pities him. The two have never exchanged personal information with each other beyond that of addresses, ages, and names, but what he's gleaned of Hisashi's life from shrewd bits of insight he's been allowed hasn't painted a pretty picture.

Hisashi is wealthy, certainly. Excessively so. Doubtlessly successful from the perspective of the average salaryman, and more still.

But there's a desperation to it, Sorahiko has often noted, a compulsion to throw himself into to his work, whatever it may be, to parade his wealth around in the form of designer suits, and limousines, and French Champagnes, and penthouse suites, that suggests less of a desire to pursue a life worth living and more of a ravenous, clawing need to escape the reality of one that isn't.

The only pictures in his apartment are stock photos, he never speaks of his family, and the way he manipulates tenderness out of Sorahiko – hungrily, always hungrily, but with such a marked desire for distance – implies an upbringing completely devoid of genuine emotional connection.

Every tender word is postured with Hisashi, practiced, and calculated, and rehearsed. Out of a compulsive desire for perfection, certainly, for power over one's partner, but there's also a very real sense of fear to the practice. Vulnerability is not a word in Hisashi's vocabulary.

It isn't found in Sorahiko's either. Maybe that's why the pity comes so easily.

But no, that isn't his desire's origin, as much as he may wish it were.

There's a magnetism to Hisashi completely independent of his more vulnerable aspects, a surety and gravity as powerful as it is prevalent. Sorahiko loves to butt heads, the thrill of a chase, the stubborn push and pull of a yearning to which neither party will vocally lay claim.

Belonging to someone else, someone just as jaded, and worn, and pessimistic as him. Someone who comprehends the importance of detachment in the face of intimacy.

That was why he'd broken things off with Nana Shimura, though he'd never say it aloud. He'd known her too well, and she'd cared too much. Not enough distance.

"And I love hearing you say it." Apparently, Hisashi is feeling generous this morning. The second peck is placed on his lips. "I'm leaving the country tomorrow for work. I don't know when I'll be back."

Not generous then, placating. A salve in anticipation of a burn. Oh well. Last night had been too passionate anyways. Really, it's a blessing. Thank God for distance.

Breakfast is eaten in cold, impassive silence. Hisashi doesn't even comment on the obvious bits of eggshell that crack between his molars. Doesn't even lament the burnt crust that coats the dishes underside. A rare occurrence by all accounts. He lives for drama.

Sorahiko should be grateful. And he is.

Thank God for distance.

#I'm sorry if you were expecting something dark I honestly wanted to go that route but I've been trying to learn to write romance lately so?#Oops #Thank you sm for the prompts btw!!! I'm always overjoyed to see you in my notes!#This is probably literally so terrible I'm sorry #I have no idea how to write this sort of thing #If it's ooc blame how vague Hori is with afo's character you can do literally anything with him in his personal life and it technically #can't be disproven okay #afohiko #bnha #my writing

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