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There were two manners in which Kurono had observed Overhaul walk.
The first was dignified and powerful, head held high and spine ramrod straight, posture radiating power and confidence, as if he was just daring people to get too close.
The second reminded Kurono of a predator stalking its prey, hunched forward, hands in his pockets, and sharp eyes constantly scanning his surroundings.
This is why Kurono was so unsettled when his boss staggered past him through the hallway.
His gait was uneaven, possibly caused by his trembling body, and the exposed skin of his face and wrists was flushed red and blotchy with hives. A sheen of sweat covered his face and neck, and Kurono could hear the sickly rattling of Overhaul’s unsteady breaths escaping through the holes in his mask. And - Kurono had to do a double take - we’re those tears in Overhaul’s piercing eyes?
His boss never emoted openly, and he certainly never cried. He would just use his quirk on anything that bothered him, or he’d get angry if that didn’t work. But he never cried.
If he didn’t know him better, Kurono would’ve assumed the man to be sick, as suspicion reinforced by Overhaul’s constant muttering of “sicksick sick dirty sick unclean diseased dirty sick”. But that couldn’t be right. Overhaul never got sick - he was far too diligent with sanitation.
“Boss?” Kurono asked hesitantly.
Overhaul’s head snapped to face him, and it took a few seconds for a spark of recognition to cross those teary, clouded-over eyes. That certainly wasn’t right. Overhaul had known Kurono for years, much longer than the other members of the Eight Precepts.
“Overhaul?” Kurono asked after a second of hesitation. “Are you alright?”
“M sick……Quirk,” a shaky voice finally replied.
“Is your quirk malfunctioning somehow?” Kurono asked, becoming nervous. If a quirk as strong as overhaul went haywire, he hated to imagine what could happen to its wielder.
“Not mine. Hit with… hit with a quirk. Disgusting,” Overhaul replied shakily. Almost as an afterthought, he quietly confessed, “I don’t know what I’m… what I’m gonna do now.”
Kurono wasn’t sure if this was a better or worse scenario than his original idea that Overhaul’s own quirk was damaging him. “What are the effects of the quirk you were hit with, and what do we need to do to alleviate your symptoms?”
“Some crazed low-life. Think ‘e was a villain maybe. Claimed to be an enemy of the Eight Precepts ‘cause one of my men ‘pparently killed ‘is brother. Said I didn’t deserve a dignified death. Hit me with ‘is quirk,” Overhaul tried to explain, words coming out stuttered and slurred through the haze of illness.
“And what exactly is his quirk?” Kurono asked again.
Overhaul squeezed his eyes shut, face contorting in frustration. The stress hives on his skin burned a deeper, angrier red. He looked for a second like he was debating bolting, but clearly decided against it. Instead, so quietly and so quickly that anyone who wasn’t as familiar with Overhaul’s voice as Kurono was would’ve had no chance at understanding his words, he admitted, “it was a lust quirk.”
At the stunned silence, he continued. “Well, it was at firs’ but ‘e said it’d get worse the more I fought it. I didn’t.. didn’t take ‘im seriously. Overhauled myself to try t’ get rid o’ it. Twice. Didn’t work clearly. An’ ‘e’s right. It got worse. It hurts an’ ‘e said it’d kill me by tomorrow unless I-“ his voice trailed off. “Well, t’ use the vulgar street term, ‘is quirk mutated into a ‘fuck or die’ quirk ‘cause I tried to get rid o’ it. Dirty. Sick. Disgusting,” he went back to muttering, gloved hand frantically scratching at the rash on his forearm.
Kurono was only able to stare in shock. For anyone else, such a situation would be seriously inconvenient and a bit embarrassing. For Overhaul though, a man obsessed with cleanliness and repulsed by physical touch, it may as well have been a death sentence to the least dignified end possible. “Is there anyone who you would like me to find for you to help you alleviate this quirk?” Kurono asked carefully.
Overhaul shook his head. “No one.” A pause. “Actually, please bring someone who could kill me. Preferably quickly. Or jus’ shoot me yourself. Please. Y’ur a good shot, ‘nd it’d be a lot more dignified than being killed by a lowlife with a sex quirk. If I’m dying tonight, I want it t’ be on my terms.”
Kurono paused. Overhaul never said please, at least not with any sincerity. And asking Kurono to shoot him? “Boss, I’m not going to have someone kill you unless there is absolutely nothing else that can be done. You don’t have to die tonight. Not when someone can help you. So, is there anyone who you think that you could even touch without repulsion?”
“I-“ Overhaul started before obviously drifting in and out of clarity for a few moments. “Other than Pops, you’re th’ only one who doesn’t feel dirty,” he admitted. “You’re sick like all of us, but clean.”
Kurono’s heart skipped a beat. Out of everyone that Overhaul could’ve said, he never would’ve expected his own name. But he had to act casual. “Alright. I’ll help you then, unless you have any objection,” he choked out, hoping his voice didn’t betray how much he’d wanted this for years. Well, not like this. Not when Overhaul didn’t even want it.
But it was his duty to help the boss. He couldn’t just leave Overhaul to die, or worse, find someone to kill him. Or, god, be forced to do it himself. Overhaul couldn’t die, not now. Especially not under such humiliating circumstances.
“I’ll help you. If I do anything you don’t like, just tell me and I’ll stop. Why don’t we start by taking a bath together? That way you can make sure I’m clean enough for you,” Kurono found himself saying before he had fully thought it through. He’d learned by now that Overhaul took comfort in things such as baths, showers, skin treatments, and other forms of personal grooming, so he figured that it would be a good suggestion to relax the man even if he elected to not let Kurono help him.
Overhaul nodded, still clearly disoriented. “Jus’ don’ touch my mouth an’ nose. I don’ like it,” he said after a few seconds consideration.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” Kurono reassured. “Now what do you say we go get clean, Overhaul?”
Another pause followed before Overhaul nodded. Almost as an afterthought, he added, “you can call me Kai.”
A breath caught in Kurono’s throat. Overha- Kai never allowed him to call him by his real name, not since he’d assumed his role as the head of the Eight Precepts. Not that he’d ever stopped thinking of Overhaul as Chisaki Kai.
But Kurono simply nodded. “Alright, Kai. Come with me; I’ll draw us a bath.”
It took more than double the amount of time it should’ve for the pair to make it to the bathroom with Chisaki’s stumbling. Never one to deny himself luxuries unless it was necessary, Chisaki’s bathtub could’ve fit five people comfortably. But it never did. This would be the first time that he had ever allowed anyone to join him for his bath, and the intimacy of the situation was not lost on Kurono. Sure, he’d entered the room while Chisaki was bathing, but to allow Kurono into one of the places that he was adamant remain free of outside contamination? Kurono was honored at the level of trust.
“I’ll prepare the bath,” Kurono announced as Chisaki began to strip. Even in his quirk-addled state, he was meticulous, carefully folding each article of clothing and laying them in a neat stack.
As the tub filled with warm water, Kurono added epsom salt - overhauling his body always made Chisaki sore, not to mention dirty for not only having that illness society called a quirk but for using on himself- and a peppermint eucalyptus bubble bath that claimed to have antiseptic properties. The scent filled the air immediately, sharp and cool and clean.
Kurono removed his long coat, pants, and underclothes before turning to Chisaki and asking, “would you prefer it if I kept my mask on?”
Chisaki, notably maskless by this point, visibly considered the question for a few moments. “Y’ can take it off,” he eventually decided. “But wash your hands b’fore y’ touch my skin.”
Kurono nodded and did as instructed before getting into the tub, leaning back and motioning to his lap. Chisaki, in his delirious state, took a few seconds to process what was going on before he too got into the bathtub, leaning his back into Kurono’s chest and closing his eyes.
The amount of skin on skin contact was unprecedented with Chisaki. While he would occasionally sit close enough to Kurono that their legs would touch or allow their gloved fingers to brush up against each other, Chisaki never allowed anyone to touch his bare skin with their own. But here he was, nude and laid across Kurono’s body like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Except that this was anything but an ordinary situation. Chisaki was sick, in danger of dying. And he trusted Kurono enough to help him.
Looking down in stunned silence at the man in his lap, Kurono watched as Chisaki’s stress rash lessened in the soapy water. Short breaths escaped from delicate lips, and sharp eyes remained gently closed. Kurono had seen Chisaki’s face before, but it didn’t make this time any less special. Chisaki was allowing Kurono to see him like this, vulnerable and deep under the effects of a quirk that made his skin burn like wildfire.
Even in the warm bath, Chisaki’s skin was scalding hot against Kurono’s chest. Though unbothered by the heat, he was worried. Just how high was his boss’ fever? How much longer did he have before it became dangerous?
He knew that, no matter how much he wanted to stay like this forever, cherishing the feeling of Chisaki’s skin against his own, he could not waste time. Kurono remembered Chisaki once telling him about the order in which he used his many soaps and bath products. It was trivial information, something which anyone else would’ve forgotten. But Kurono wasn’t just anyone, and he never forgot anything about his beloved boss.
Kurono reached for the shampoo, one of those expensive sulfate-free ones, and poured what seemed like the right amount into the palm of his hand. He then began to work the shampoo to a lather in Chisaki’s hair.
He’d once explained to Kurono that he kept his hair so short out of fear of fleas and lice but refused to buzz or shave his head to avoid skin cancer on his scalp. The hair felt soft and well-maintained, if not slightly dry, under Kurono’s fingers, and Chisaki seemed to be enjoying the scalp massage. He hummed and sighed at the sensation of gentle fingers skating through his hair. Was he only enjoying this because of the quirk, or did he really just have a sensitive scalp? Kurono supposed he’d add that to the list of things that he’d probably never know about his boss.
After a minute or so, Kurono figured that he should probably rinse the shampoo out. He reached for a plain white pitcher on the side of the tub and filled it with water from the tap, figuring that Chisaki would be against rinsing his hair with the same water that they both were sitting in. He poured the water over Chisaki’s head, carefully avoiding getting soap suds in his eyes. Once he was confident that he’d gotten the shampoo out, Kurono grabbed the bottle of conditioner.
Having no need for conditioner on his own clock-needle hair, Kurono decided to read the instructions on the bottle. He pumped the recommended quarter sized amount into his palm and carefully applied it to the ends of Chisaki’s hair - he remembered hearing somewhere that conditioner didn’t go on the root.
The bottle also said to leave the conditioner on for two minutes before rinsing it out, so Kurono used that time to wash his own body with the liquid body soap. It was more than a bit difficult to clean himself with Chisaki laying on him like a deadweight, but Kurono eventually managed. Once he was sure that he was clean, he refilled the pitcher using the tap and rinsed the conditioner out of Chisaki’s hair.
The next step in Chisaki’s overly complicated bathing routine was some overpriced exfoliating scrub. Kurono had purchased this particular brand as a gift for Chisaki once, hoping that the moisturizing oils would combat his dryness from over washing. It had quickly become Chisaki’s favorite. This was one thing that Kurono had helped Chisaki with in the past, as he couldn’t reach his own back. Though Kurono had always been required to wear gloves when he touched Chisaki’s skin in the past. Kurono gently rubbed the scrub into Chisaki’s impossibly smooth skin, massaging it in little circular patterns with his fingertips.
Chisaki’s skin really was impossibly smooth, and Kurono wondered if it was the scrub or the fact that he shaved nearly his entire body that caused that - only his upper arms and his back still had hair. Even the backs of his hands had been carefully shaved. Either way, his pale skin felt like silk, and Kurono lost track of how long he let his hands wander across Chisaki’s skin, feeling the softness of his skin and the contours of his toned body.
Chisaki melted into Kurono’s touch, slumping against his chest and letting out little hums and whines with every exhale. It’s just the quirk Kurono had to remind himself. He wouldn’t be reacting like this if his mind was functioning normally. And yet, it was beautiful to watch the proud capo lean into his touch like it was the only thing keeping him alive. With the quirk, it just might be, Kurono reminded himself.
Realizing that he may have been spending a bit too much time running his hands across the smooth expanse of Chisaki’s skin, Kurono hastily rinsed the scrub off and moved on to the liquid body soap. It was the same eucalyptus and peppermint scent as the bubble bath and also claimed to be antiseptic. Kurono didn’t really care what it was, if he was being honest, just so long as it gave him an excuse to keep touching Chisaki’s impossibly perfect skin.
“Turn around and sit up,” Kurono said gently. Chisaki, usually the type to snap at anyone who dared give him orders, nodded and calmly repositioned his body so that he was sitting on Kurono’s lap and facing him.
Half-lidded, glassy eyes gazed up at Kurono with what could only be described as absolute trust, and his heart twisted a bit in his chest. Oh, how he wished that there was any possibility of something like this happening without this damned quirk.
But now was not the time for wishful thinking. He returned to the reason why he had asked Chisaki to turn around, working a pump of facial soap into a lather before gently rubbing on Chisaki’s face. Being able to caress Chisaki’s face like this, even if it was just to wash it, was an incredible experience for Kurono, gently cradling one side of a sharp jaw while his other hand gently stroked his soft, round cheek and under eye region. “Beautiful,” he whispered, not really caring if Chisaki could hear him or not.
Once they were both clean - Kurono didn’t wash his hair very often because shampoo made the clock needles brittle, so he just wore a hood to avoid becoming too ‘contaminated’ to interact with Chisaki on non wash days - Kurono helped Chisaki to towel off, apply his facial moisturizer, and get into his plush bathrobe and favorite house slippers. He then drained the tub and turned to ask Chisaki a question.
“Because we still have to address the issue of the quirk you were hit with, I will clean and stretch myself… down there. You can either stay to make sure that I am clean enough to meet your wishes or leave so that you don’t have to watch the gross part. Tonight is all about you, so don’t feel pressured to go with either choice.”
Chisaki visibly contemplated for a minute before quietly saying, “I’d rather y’ do it ‘ere and then come meet me in th’ bedroom.”
Kurono nodded, and Chisaki left the bathroom.
….
Kurono knew a lot of little things about Chisaki that anyone else would seem insignificant.
He was a bit of a snob when it came to tea leaves. He enjoyed simple cooking, though he refused to touch raw meats other than fish. He hated the smell of most fruits for some reason. Though minimalism was a trademark of any space he occupied, he enjoyed keeping air plants because green was his favorite color and they didn’t require soil. He wanted to purchase a hairless cat one day, but was still trying to figure out the logistics of pet owning. The first time that he’d overhauled his own body was in a blind panic after accidentally brushing the gums off of a few teeth. Whenever he had free time, which was rare, he enjoyed both watercolor painting and boxing.
One thing that Kurono had recently learned was that Chisaki kept an essential oil diffuser in his room. He’d talked to Kurono about it a few times, explaining that, while he knew that it did nothing to actually clean the air, it masked the scent of the outside world.
When Kurono opened Chisaki’s door, he was immediately met with the strong aroma of cloves - Chisaki’s strongest smelling oil. He only ever used such strong smells when he was especially anxious and on edge, needing to mask out all traces of the scent of the contaminated world outside his near-airtight door.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were stressed? I could’ve helped you with wor-“ Kurono began to speak but stopped when he saw Chisaki, laying far too still atop the black silk sheets of his bed.
Kurono immediately ran to his boss’ side and audibly breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Chisaki let out a quiet whimper of discomfort. The sound was pitiful and so unlike the proud yakuza that Chisaki presented himself as, but it was enough ti reassure Kurono that he was still alive and conscious enough to register pain.
“Chisaki?” Kurono asked softly, placing his hand on Chisaki’s shoulder before immediately recoiling in shock. While he’d felt hot before, Chisaki’s skin was now near painful to touch. How much longer did he have before the fever fried his brain?
Chisaki, awoken by Kurono’s touch, slowly cracked open one gold eye. “Haariii?” he slurred weakly, squinting in the dimly-lit room.
Kurono’s breath caught for a moment at the sound of his given name. Chisaki hadn’t called him that since they were young, before Chisaki had taken the moniker of ‘Overhaul’ and ascended to the role of leader of the Eight Precepts.
But, as seemed to be the case with most of the situation that Kurono had found himself in tonight, he couldn’t let it show how much he desperately wanted these events to be happening under different circumstances, when Chisaki wasn’t under the influence of a potentially lethal quirk. Trying his best to act casual so as to not add any more stress to his boss’ fever-addled mind, he gently replied, “yeah, Kai. It’s me.”
Chisaki smiled softly, an expression that Kurono had only seen a precious few times. Then, his delicate features twisted into a grimace as he groaned in discomfort. “Hariii,” he whined, “it hurrrttts.”
“I know it hurts. What would make you feel better?” he gently asks.
Chisaki paused for a moment as if unsure. “Wan’ you close. I’m so hot. Hari’s skin’s cool. Feels nice.”
Of course Chisaki would be the cuddly type. Because this wasn’t already hard enough for Kurono, sleeping with the man who he’d accepted long ago would never return his feelings.
But this wasn’t about him. It was about Chisaki.
So Kurono lowered himself onto the bed beside Chisaki and held him close like he’d never get the chance again. Actually, he probably never would get the chance again, not once Chisaki was back in his right mind.
Kurono was glad that Chisaki was too dazed with illness to notice the tears leaking from his grey eyes as he pulled Chisaki in closer to his chest.
Feverish skin rubbed gently against cool skin, like he was attempting to gather as much ‘cold’ from Kurono’s body as possible. The result was Chisaki squirming and nuzzling his face into Kurono’s chest like a cat, and Kurono had to stop himself from reacting. This isn’t really him he reminded himself. He is under the effect of a quirk. Do not pretend that any of this is real.
The thought made another tear fall from Kurono’s eye. Chisaki was pressed up against him, and yet he was so out of reach.
Oh well, Kurono reasoned, there was no reason not to indulge himself just this once. Especially since he would likely never get another chance. He pulled Chisaki’s feverish body into a closer embrace, burying his face in still-damp dark auburn hair. He smelled clean, more like soap than anything else.
Kurono could almost pretend it was all real, that Chisaki actually did return his feelings. But then Chisaki wrapped his own arms around him, embracing him back, and the illusion was shattered. The real Chisaki, the one not being controlled by the effects of a quirk, would never do that. Kurono suppressed another sob. It didn’t matter how much this hurt him because Chisaki needed him, and it was his duty as his friend and right hand man to help him in any way that he could.
“Kai?” Kurono asked quietly.
A mumbled “huh” was his only reply.
“Talk to me, Kai. What do you need?”
For a few seconds, Kurono thought that Chisaki was not going to respond. After a brief hesitation, however, Chisaki tilted his head up to look at Kurono. “M’ body hurts. You’re not close enough. Need t’ be closer, Hari. Need to be inside.”
Fuck. It was like Chisaki was trying to kill him. Think rationally, Hari , Kurono reminded himself. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked, trying desperately to sound casual.
“…..no. Feels. Dirty,” Chisaki replied after a long pause.
“How about with yourself?”
Another long pause. “No. Jus’ take…” he trailed off, seemingly forgetting what he was saying. Nearly a full minute later, he finished the sentence. “…a cold shower.”
And now Kurono felt guilty. He’d already assumed that he’d be taking Chisaki’s virginity, but the idea that he had no experience whatsoever made him feel like he was taking something that wasn’t his to take. But he’d rather Chisaki be alive to hate him for it than dead at the hands of some small-time criminal with such a disgusting quirk.
“That’s alright,” Kurono reassured. “Just make sure to tell me if I’m going too fast or doing anything that you don’t like.”
Chisaki blinked slowly a few times in a way that almost reminded Kurono of a cat before nodding a few times.
“Would you rather us keep our robes on or do this nude?” Kurono asked, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.
“Off,” Chisaki decided too quickly. “Wanna feel y’ur skin.”
And Kurono was once again reminded that Chisaki was not in his right mind. This felt horribly like taking advantage of him, but what else was he supposed to do? Let him die?
“Last question for now. I don’t have condoms. While I am clean, I know that this will probably bother you. You did not specify the exact requirements of the quirk, so I don’t know how far we have to take this. Would you rather go the non-penetrative route and risk it not working to alleviate the quirk, or would you prefer to proceed with the original plan unprotected?” Kurono asked, not entirely sure which option he would prefer himself. His body felt so empty, but was he really okay with violating Chisaki like that? But then again, could they risk not doing enough to get rid of Chisaki’s quirk-induced fever?
Chisaki decided for him, his answer only reinforcing Kurono’s worries that Chisaki was too out of it to give proper consent. “Don’ care. Need to be inside you,” he whined.
Kurono took a deep breath and steeled his nerves. If Chisaki hated him after this, at least he’d be alive to do so. Hating himself more with every passing second, he removed his robe and set it on the bed like a blanket. He gently repositioned a now nude Chisaki - when had he gotten naked? - atop the robe. The man allowed himself to be moved like there was no autonomous thought left in him. With any luck, cleanup would be minimized if Kurono’s robe could catch all of the mess.
“I’m so sorry, Kai,” he whispered, beginning to tear up again. Chisaki didn’t even seem to register the apology. “Kai? Are you alright?” Still no response. Kurono cried harder.
Struggling to see through the tears that clouded his vision, Kurono straddled Chisaki. With sobs racking his body, he fumbled to get them properly lined up, but he eventually succeeded and sunk down onto Chisaki’s dick.
He rode him at a breakneck pace, desperately trying to get this over with as soon as possible. It felt both like only a few seconds and an agonizing eternity before Chisaki finished and promptly passed out.
Kurono wasn’t even hard anymore, hadn’t been since the realization of just how little say in this Chisaki truly had had hit him.
Tears dripped from Kurono’s eyes as he cleaned Chisaki with a damp washcloth. He wanted to apologize, to atone somehow, but how could he possibly make up for his actions? The worst part of it all was that Kurono knew that, if put in the same situation again, he would take the same course of action.
He’d be killed or, at the very least, made to leave the Eight Precepts. But Kurono would ruin his own life a million times over to preserve Chisaki’s.
Feeling too awful to lay beside Chisaki but too worried to leave his side, Kurono lay down, nude on the cold tile floor beside Chisaki’s bed, and cried himself to sleep.
….
Chisaki awoke the next morning drenched in sweat, like a fever had broken in his sleep.
Fever? Was he sick?
Then, all at once, the events of the previous night came crashing back. The quirk. Being found by Kurono. The bath. But then his memory drew a blank. What had happened in that blacked out part of his memory? And, if he’d asked Kurono to help him, why was he waking up alone?
The first part of an answer greeted him when he sat up and saw Kurono on his floor. Strange. Had Chisaki banished him to the floor out of fear of germs? That seemed a bit cruel, even for Chisaki. He cared about Kurono enough to at least provide him with a blanket or some spare clothes. But there he was, nude and shivering on the cold floor.
Chisaki scooted to the edge of his bed, looking closer at Kurono. Upon further inspection, the man looked miserable. Dried tear tracks covered his face, eyes swollen from crying.
“Hari?” Chisaki chanced asking.
Kurono, always a light sleeper, awoke slowly, freezing up as the memories evidently came flooding back.
At the look of absolute horror on Kurono’s face, Chisaki began to wonder if he’d hurt Kurono when under the influence of that filthy quirk. Please, no. Kurono was the one person he’d promised himself he’d never cause harm to.
But then Kurono started sobbing and, more alarmingly, apologizing. He frantically babbled something about hurting Chisaki and being unable to atone for what he had done.
That wasn’t right. Chisaki noticed no injuries in his body, and he didn’t have that telltale achy feeling that he got after healing an injury with his quirk. “Hari, you didn’t hurt me. Now, would you mind explaining what is going on?” he asked firmly.
Through his tears, Kurono spoke in frantic bursts of information punctuated by sobbing fits. From what Chisaki could understand, Kurono was under the impression that he had taken advantage of Chisaki because the quirk had negated his ability to think straight and therefore made him unable to give consent. Kurono also seemed to believe that Chisaki would have him killed for his transgressions and whined something about accepting his punishment.
“Hari!” Chisaki snapped, cutting off the panicked babbling. “I am not going to have you executed because you did nothing wrong. You saved my life.”
“B-but you weren’t yourself. You don’t even remember it. I just… used your body when your mind was somewhere else,” Kurono whimpered.
“Perhaps, but the alternative was my death. You made the logical decision to preserve my life, no matter what you had to do to achieve that. I would be a fool of a yakuza boss to have my second in command executed for saving my life. Furthermore, I do not feel any pain or discomfort, so it seems you weren’t rough with me. I remember you helping me bathe, and, from the current state of my body, I can assume that you cleaned me after whatever happened. The only person who violated me in any way last night was the man who hit me with the quirk to begin with. Do you understand, Hari?” Chisaki reassured aggressively. He could not have his closest friend and associate thinking of himself as unclean or in the wrong. He was also a bit offended at the implication that Kurono thought him cruel and reckless enough to have his right hand man and best friend killed.
Kurono nodded, though he was still obviously distressed.
Chisaki sighed. “Come on, get on the bed.”
Kurono only stared.
“I won’t say it again. Come. Here,” Chisaki ordered.
Kurono hastily obeyed, though reluctance was written all across his face.
The moment that Kurono situated himself beside him, Chisaki wrapped his arms around him and embraced him tightly.
There was no one else he would do this with. But Hari was different. He was beautiful and familiar and loyal and clean, as pure as anyone sick with the disease of quirks could ever really be.
That’s not to say that a few small hives didn’t flare up on Chisaki’s skin at the contact, but they were easily dismissed.
Kurono clung to him like a lifeline, sobs muffled against Chisaki’s shoulder. He then froze and glanced up at Chisaki, apology forming on his tongue. “I’m so sorry for getting my tears on you. I can go get a washcloth or-“
Chisaki cut him off with a light smack. “I would not have permitted you to touch me if I had an issue with it. That quirk made me say a lot of things, half of which I don’t remember and the other half I’d deny having said. But I meant it when I said that you were not dirty like everyone else.”
And apparently that was all that Kurono needed to hear, because maybe a second elapsed before his face was securely nestled in the crook of Chisaki’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” Kurono whispered. “Thank you for everything. For forgiving me, for trusting me enough to let me touch you.” He pauses, sniffling. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to touch you again. Thought you’d kill me. I’d’ve let you. I’ve killed for you, Kai, and I’d die for you.”
Chisaki smiled. Not a smirk or a snarl or any of the other mockeries of a grin that Kurono had grown used to seeing on Chisaki’s face the rare times he was unmasked but a real, genuine smile. “If I didn’t know us, I’d accuse you of being in love,” he teased.
But Kurono didn’t laugh. “Maybe,” he responded plainly. “Would that be so bad?”
Chisaki was silent for a moment before replying. “No,” he said. “I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
And if the two of them were seen holding hands or sitting much closer to one another than was necessary, none of the other members of the Eight Precepts made any comment.