It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on, even if it did take Hemlock's sleep addled mind a good minute or two to figure out that he was even awake, let alone that there was a problem that needed attention. Even then, his first instinct had been to look towards the heap of kittens just across the room, it usually an ingrained instinct around his animals that had him jolting awake most mornings, even something as benign as a small cough sending him to their side some days out of worry. But the kittens were fine, save for their mews of desired attention after hearing the commotion of awake caregivers, Hemlock's dual eyes quickly switching from them to Youhei with their deep look of concern. "No, it's...it's alright. 's my fault." Even if he hadn't been fully awake, he shouldn't have just assumed it was okay, that sex was still wanted despite it having been offered just the night before, something he says as much as he turns his attention back to the kittens as if to give the other man a bit of faux privacy in the small room, though he was unsure if such a thing could even be heard with the state Youhei was in.
Giving the man a moment to gather himself, not really sure what else to do at the moment, Hemlock sticks to what he's best at, what he knows as he stands to get a few bottles together for the hungry kittens, a moment having to be taken to readjust himself in the sweats as he did so. He doesn't talk, not really sure what to say thanks to his own embarassment around what he'd caused, not until he had a bottle ready and one of the larger kittens in his hands, ready to be handed off if Youhei accepted. "...you wanna help again? With the kittens?"
「 ☆ 」 Slowly coming down from the panicked jolt, Youhei shakily tries to steady their breathing. Chest shuddering with each shallow movement, that pained smile weakly remains on their face. Corner of their mouth twitching in the morbid display of relief and tangible self-loathing for needing it in the first place. A hand falls from their hair, the others fingers still harshly intertwined in a now stone-still grip. Other one rests forgotten at their side, a finger absentmindedly scratching at the floor with a black-painted nail. Fidget quickening as they keep staring down rather than at Hemlock.
Not wanting to see what he could possibly be thinking of them, no matter how understanding his words attempt to be.
Sucking in a deep breath, they hold it in for a few seconds... before releasing it in a heavy exhale, shoulders drooping with the motion. Hand ever-so-slightly letting go of messy hair. ❝ Nah... Don't worry about it. I offered and you were just calling me on it. Nothing to be sorry for. ❞ Picking at the end of his sleeve, he pulls out a loose thread while trying to absolve Hem of any unnecessary guilt he might feel.
Watching it flutter to the ground before blinking with surprise at Hemlock's approach, gaze raises up the other's body until it finally reaches his eyes. Mouth slightly agape at the offer, it takes them a second to find their voice again. Only able to utter a quiet, ❝ Really? ❞ while hands already carefully accept the offered kitten and bottle. Despite their own lack of faith in themself, touch is gentle as though the creature was made of glass. A kindness in the way they nestle the kitten close to their body, in the way dulled eyes soften with a new light as they look down at it.
Silently feeding the gluttonous animal, a few moments of peace pass. Youhei focusing on the task at hand. On the warmth of the little body and the constant— if frantic in its own way —sound of milk being suckled. When they no longer hear their own heartbeat in their ears, Youhei risks opening their mouth, ❝ You don't have to fuck me... if you're not into it anymore. ❞ Calmly spoken, almost monotone in the forced delivery. Lightly tutting as they ease the empty bottle away from the kitten, as small smile actually graces their features. A quiet chuckle accompanying it at the paw batting in protest.
Handing it and the baby over to Hemlock, they continue to explain with a more audible laugh. Still looking at the kitten even as it passes over to the other's hold. ❝ Don't stick your dick in crazy, right? Trust me, I get it... ❞ Advice Youhei wishes they had taken seriously when given their own chance to get laid. 「 ☆ 」
It wasn't exactly out of the norm to wake up next to someone, Hemlock finding himself with a partner at least once a week if time permits, but this was the first time it wasn't because of sex that he found himself wrapped around a warm body, his own seeking the warmth with how it ran colder than most. Maybe it was because of the fact that sex was always the percursor to sharing a bed that had him grinding his half hard dick up against Youhei's backside as he drifted at the edges of consciousness, or perhaps it was that seeking of warmth that he was nuzzling into that had heated his body, but the result was the same in the end.
Lips lazily trailing along Youhei's neck, sharp teeth lightly nibbled at the juncture where it met his shoulder as the other was pulled into rutting hips. Still, for as half asleep as he was, Hemlock recognized who he was sharing a bed with, a low, breathy groan catching in his throat before he let out a needy whine. "Youheiiii, wanna fuck you...."
- ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight 」 ˙ ˖ ✧
「 ☆ 」 Waking up next to someone is a... mixed experience.
Even with Matthias, someone Youhei has learned to trust with their life— as much as the damaged soul can, still struggling to completely let down the walls crafted around them by pain and fear —there are still incidents. The feeling of another body beside theirs sparking an alarm in their sleep-stalled mind, insisting on harm rather than protection. It's not every time and Youhei would even claim the times are growing fewer and far between... but they've been known to lie before.
To themself as well as others.
Honestly, despite their reputation around Hope's Peak, there's only a couple people Youhei has ever shared a bed with... Until now. These arms are new. This large body, unfamiliar to the touch. Colder than Youhei's, the lithe form running rather hot. Perfect for cuddling, not that many are allowed to be privy to this. Half-stuck in sleep, they're roused toward consciousness by a motion against them.
Body slightly jostling from the action, Youhei's own dick tries to grow hard on habit. An uncomfortable sensation in their underwear, the punk having borrowed a shirt to drown in while they slept but seeing no need for bottoms because of how it hung on them. Hips push back, seeking the source of friction, head tilting with a confused groan past slightly parted lips. Another’s brushing across their sensitive neck, skin prickling from sharp teasing teeth.
Movement seems to be rewarded, breath catching as something hard pushes into their perky curves. An expected pattern. ❝ Hghgnnn… ❞ Barely a noise past the shallow rise and fall of their chest, a hand shifts down to rest over an arm holding them close. Fingers gingerly moving across cool skin, black painted nails lightly dragging… back shifting to better touch the firm chest pressed to it.
"Youheiiii, wanna fuck you...."
❛ C’moooooon, Youhei~ … It’s time to bang. ❜
It’s then that Youhei’s mind snaps to attention. Or its own twisted version of it, a false voice echoing in their mind as the familiar scenario finally takes root. Blood-chillingly sweet in its sing-song nature, quietly purred in their ear as they lay asleep. Unaware of how genuinely trapped they were until it was too late. Despite being the stupid animal who obediently crawled into their cage. Who continued to night after night after night. Claws digging into their body, forcing pinning them down, a fanged grin below unwavering grey eyes…
Youhei doesn’t hear their own frightened yelp until it’s cut off by a pained grunt, abrupt flailing causing them to tumble off the bed as they panickedly wrenched themself away from the other’s hold. Entangled in a blanket, they struggle to free themself— to breathe, as they fight against the darkness enveloping them. The fabric wrapped around, tight and suffocating and keeping HER out of their sight. Hair in disarray as Youhei finally TEARS their head free, it falls over a terrified expression. As though Youhei was expecting to see a monster.
… It’s not.
Of course it’s not.
Of course it’s fucking not.
❝ I- It’s just you… ❞ Weakly spoken through a thick voice, cracking in their throat. Tears slowly fill red-rimmed eyes, the silent nature of their arrival more unnerving than their presence. ❝ Heh… Of course it’s just you. ❞ Incredulous toward themself, broken by a bitter barked out laugh as a hand runs through the hair obscuring their face, pushing it back. Stray strands stick to their cheeks where tears now trail, fingers digging to grab a fistful of white and dyed. ❝ For a second, I thought she— I… ❞
He freezes.
❝ I… ❞ Strained smile twitches, free hand gripping the blanket around them so tightly their arm muscles strain. Shaking where they sit on the floor, the chuckle that disrupts their shoulders is quiet. Laced with the distortion of tears now freely falling, expression contorting into a shame so great they can’t help but insult themself through it with a laughed, ❝ I’m so fucking stupid. ❞ Gaze lowered as they lightly shake their head, running their fingers through their hair, trying to fix their disheveled appearance. Sucking in a forced, trembling breath with a groaned, ❝ Fuuuuuck… ❞
❝ My bad, dude… I don’t— … That wasn’t cool of me. ❞
「 ☆ 」 Watching Nicky bellow in another language has Kichiro standing shell-shocked for a beat. Not out fear or any sense of trepidation about their husband, but for him. Recognizing the immense stress he must be under to lash out in this way. Despite what others would assume about the ❛ moose ❜ — especially when observing his work on the ice —he's a gentle soul. A delicate one. Kichiro would be willing to bet their life on it, even now when they actually posses one precious to them.
Honestly, had Kyle not explained it to them, Kichiro wouldn't have thought the injury was worth any fuss. It's not as though Nicky hasn't endured far worse. But they know better than to argue with a medic when it comes to matters such as this. Other issues, they would— and have. With minimal understanding of the intricacies of hockey at best, they aren't exactly an authority on injury importance. While it may seem inconsequential now, Kyle is right. It could become worse.
If that happens, maybe it would keep Nicky out of more than just a single game.
Yet more important than any of that...
Discomfort grows the longer they have to wait for Nicky to acknowledge their presence, so used to the other immediately jumping to do so like an excited pup. When he finally does, it's only to try and further push his impassioned point. Freckled face crumpling into a concerned grimace, bright hues are fixated on his panicked expression. Injured or not, they don't want him going out on the ice like this. Manic. Reckless. Riddled with an anxiety so intense, Kichiro can feel the bitter taste in the back of their throat.
❝ ... I think- you should sit this game out. ❞ Gently spoken, a hand reaches out to try and rest on Nicky's forearm, if the touch would be allowed. So quiet compared to the other's yelling, an attempt to try and soothe their husband. Unfortunately unaware of how different this situation would be. Having more than proven themself the person who could calm the storm clouds blustering in the hockey player's mind, Kichiro doesn't expect an argument... Doesn't expect much pushback aside from perhaps a moment of resistance before Nicky reluctantly relents.
"The use [of crossed fingers as a gesture] is often considered by children as an excuse for telling a white lie. By extension, a similar belief is that crossing one's fingers invalidates a promise being made."
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