“you don’t have to talk, we can just sit together” from the sentence starters prompts
Eiji is already holding him.
“Sorry,” Ash gasps. “Sorry, I’m—sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Eiji says. Soft, gentle, like he always is with Ash.
“Did I wake you up?” Ash asks. He already knows the answer, but wants to hear Eiji’s response.
But Eiji hums. “It’s not important.”
“It is,” Ash insists. He’s still crying. “It is. Your sleep is so much more important than ...” Than me.
“Ash,” Eiji chides. “That is not true. I care about you.”
Stop, Ash thinks. You shouldn’t. God, Eiji, you shouldn’t.
“Do you want to talk about the nightmare?” Eiji asks.
And it comes back, all at once. Hands on his body, touching and touching and touching, and fucking hurting him. It’s not fair. It’s fucking unfair. Dreams aren’t supposed to hurt, so why does he always wake up in pain?
He flinches away from Eiji’s touch.
“Okay,” Eiji whispers, withdrawing his hands. “Wrong thing to say. I’m sorry.”
“No, it—it’s not your fault. I’m the fucked up one. I’m sorry. God, Eiji, I’m so fucking sorry.” Ash sobs. He’s so ... broken.
Eiji deserves better. So, so much better. There’s so much more out there, so much good in the world that Ash can’t give him.
I hate myself I hate myself I hate myself—
“You don’t have to talk,” Eiji says. “We can just sit together.”
“We can?” Ash asks, gasping the words.
“Of course, Ash. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t even have to sit with me if you’d rather be alone.”
“No!” Ash says. “Please ... Please stay ...”
“Oh, Ash. Of course I will stay, if you want me to. I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“You don’t. God, Eiji, you could never.”
Eiji seems to hesitate. “I am glad that you think so, but I hope that ... if I do, you will tell me, yes?”
“... Yeah,” Ash whispers. You could never. You’re too kind to ever ... “I’d tell you.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“But I hurt you,” Ash blurts. “Don’t I?”
Ash looks down at his lap, taking a breath. Trying to stop fucking crying. He can’t be guilt tripping Eiji right now.
“I would tell you too. Okay? We are equal. In this together, yes?”
“You don’t hurt me. You have never.”
“Do you want me to hold you?”
A nod, now. “Just hold me, please. Without words.”
Eiji doesn’t say anything else. Just wraps his arms around Ash and guides him back down to the pillows. It’s not harsh—he doesn’t pin Ash down, or—or anything. His hold isn’t possessive, or demanding, or ...
It brings him to tears all over again, but this time he’s happy to be crying in Eiji’s arms. Happy to be here at all. Happy to have made it through, and—