“Takemitchy… You’re precious to me. Do you know that? I wouldn’t hesitate to protect you with all that I have. Would that scare you?”
This is a scene from my alltake fanfiction A Tale of the Mundane and the Divine. I'm not entirely sure about the design of Mitsuya's dragon form... I might change it in possible future drawings.
I pretty much finished this artwork about a week ago, but I kept fluctuating between wanting to add a background or not... as you can see, I chickened out in the end (because the last times I tried to draw actual backgrounds I wasn't happy with the end results at all, and I really like how this drawing came out so far)
Note: another scene that was cut because I was going back and forth between writing everyone having an additional goodbye scene, but it wasn't flowing how i wanted it. had baji's up so i might as well post this one too.
Summary: The bruise that Hanagaki gave him on that snowy day was long gone. Still, a wound invisible to the eye throbbed and Mitsuya ached.
Warning: Losercore!OOC!Mitsuya.
"Get down!"
And by the time Mitsuya even realized that someone was going to break the cafe window next to him to climb in and fight him, another person came running over to cover his head with their body.
It was a stupid thing that only one person would do. It was an incredibly dumb thing, and Mitsuya's heart fluttered in his chest when he finally heard that voice again.
The surprise of the attack died off and Mitsuya made quick work of the assholes, keeping in mind that the Snakeheads were really starting to annoy them, and lost all his thoughts when he turned to Hanagaki next to him.
New cuts decorated his neck and cheek, and Mitsuya wondered if they could just pretend it never happened. Did it hurt? Did it sting? He had first-aid. He always did. It was pretty much for Hanagaki, at this point.
The bruise that Hanagaki gave him on that snowy day was long gone. Still, a wound invisible to the eye throbbed and Mitsuya pretended.
There was an old memory he had, one that he remembered with startling clarity, like it only happened a few hours ago and not a few months, but he remembered all the same. Hanagaki and him, sitting in a train as rode their way home from the fashion show Mitusya was invited to, and Hanagaki told him. He confessed that Mitsuya was so cool, calm, and mature, and he would never know how hard Mitsuya worked to keep that image in front of him.
He grabbed the front of Hanagaki's collar before he tried to run away, and yanked him closer. Slamming him to the wall, he wondered if Hanagaki had eaten anything recently. He loved the cakes Luna and Mana used to make with Hina. Hanagaki never turned down their okonomiyaki nights and often came with his own bags of supplies. Mitsuya had the jeans he wanted mended done, all patched up with that gaudy green fabric that Hanagaki liked but Hakkai gagged at the sight of, but Hanagaki had to come and pick it up.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed out.
"Uh-" Hanagaki, who never learned to lie, shook his head left to the right, but couldn't escape Mitsuya's grip.
"If you're going to leave, then leave," Mitsuya growled, because he gave his word. He would support Hanagaki. He would, and this was where it left them. He would do anything, be anything, even though he just wanted to sit in a train with him again. "And if you stay, then stay."
Hanagaki met his gaze, and Mitsuya wished with his whole heart and everything he could be that Hanagaki would just drop this. Or tell him something. If it was something he thought was hard to explain to others, that's okay too, Mitsuya could help him explain it.
Mitsuya, who treasured Hanagaki and their time together almost as much as he treasured his own family, couldn't imagine what the world would look like without Hanagaki and his wide grin. If at all possible, he didn't want to.
"I-I…" and Hanagaki, who never learned to lie, lied like Mitsuya didn't have ears or eyes or a webbing of scars that he earned for a friend, "I have nothing to say to you."
"Take-" Mitsuya's voice broke, and his hand caught his wrist. His lips trembled. "Please."
And instead, this was where they were.
"I'm sorry," he said, and he'd say it again, whatever it took.
Desperation was a funny thing. It took it all away from him. In a second, nothing seemed to matter, and he could forget who he was. The only thing that he needed, that he truly cared about, seemed to overpower everything else. He probably looked nothing like the cool Mitsuya that Hanagaki praised, all those years ago.
Maybe that was the problem. Where Hanagaki shaped their expectations, Mitsuya never lived up to Hanagaki's.
"Please," he said, his hand gripping Hanagaki's wrist. "I don't…" his eyes burned, and standing surrounded by broken glass in a panicked cafe, Mitsuya felt like he was grinding his heart against concrete, "I don't want to end it like this, Takemitchy. I … you're too important to me. Can we-"
He didn't need pride. He didn't need Manji. To begin with, when Mikey and Hanagaki called them to that temple, on that disgustingly hot summer day, he was going to agree with all and everything that they did or say. It wasn't for a biker gang. It wasn't for a banner. Mitsuya didn't need any of that, because he knew what was important, and he knew what mattered in the world.
He had a friend that made sure of that.
"Can we talk about it?" he asked. "Please? Whatever it is, I can change. I can-"
Hanagaki tugged on his grip. And Mitsuya's throat closed. In his frozen state, Hanagaki took the chance to wrestle out of his grip.
Why did Hanagaki come to save him again? Why did he have to act like he cared about Mitsuya's well-being? Why did he have to do that, and then turn his back on him like that? How could he?
Was their relationship something that could end so easily?
And that’s how they end up here; Takemichi stripped down to his t-shirt and underwear, Mitsuya with a pen in his mouth and his hands smoothing the fabric flush against Takemichi’s skin. Takemichi’s calves are digging into the corner of his table — Mitsuya knows because he complains every other minute — but his eyes are glowing with something tender. Something soft.
He’d blame it on Takemichi being drunk, but it feels like a lie.
Mitsuya and Takemichi's relationship changing over the years or; 5 times they had the excuse of a tape measure to get close and one time they didn't need it.
