Mikey hates himself for saying the word as soon as it leaves his mouth. But he can’t help it. His hand clutches at Takemichi’s arm, holding onto him for dear life.
He knew this would probably be the last time he would see him. Because when Takemichi went back to the future, he knew he wouldn’t be able to see his Takemichi. The only thing keeping Mikey’s dark impulsivity at bay.
Because how could Mikey think about anything else when he had those blazing blue eyes on him?
“Please…” he whispers into the dark, tugging softly at Takemichi’s sleeve.
And with those blazing blue eyes on him, he can’t help but feel like he’s at sea, drowning amongst the tides.
“Mikey-kun…” Takemichi says slowly.
He swallows, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.
Mikey wants to beg. He wants to cry. He wants to be pathetic and small. Because Takemichi makes him feel safe. Takemichi is his hero. He makes him feel safe enough to be allowed to curl up into a tiny ball and cry and cry and cry and let out how hard all of this is. How tired he is. How he hates being a leader. How much he misses his brother and how he doesn’t know where he’s going anymore. Because he’s so lost and maybe…
…maybe if Takemichi were to hold him just tight enough, he would be able to find his way. Maybe he could hold onto that memory just long enough, like the small towel he twists at night, and he could use it to hold onto his sanity. For just 12 years. It would be enough right…? For 12 years.
Takemichi shifts and…oh. He’s uncomfortable. Mikey made him uncomfortable. Of course he did. Because why would Takemichi want to stay besides him, broken, violent Mikey when beautiful, sweet Hina was waiting for him. Why would Takemichi stay in this dark room, made of a garage, with this broken, pathetic boy who clings onto everything that reminds him of his brother? He could do so much better. He already did. He loves Hina.
And he could never love Mikey.
He drops Takemichi’s sleeve, and forces his body to turn away from him. His limbs feel like lead, but somehow he manages to turn and face the wall, away from those beautiful blue eyes.
“Sorry…I- never mind. You should go.” Mikey says.
The words feel wrong on his tongue. He hates saying it. But he knows he should. He should be a leader, and carry this burden alone. Because that’s what he’s supposed to do.
And so Mikey braces himself to hear Takemichi get up and leave. He braces himself against the sound of the door opening and shutting, the footsteps carrying his love away from him, leaving him broken broken broken.
Mikey has endured so much pain, so this should be easy right. So so easy.
So he forces his shoulders not to tighten when he hears the bed shift and he forces himself not to turn around and grab him again. He bites his tongue, swallowing down the begs and the cries.
But nothing prepares him for the warm weight of Takemichi’s arms around his waist and the warmth that seeps through his whole body. Because Takemichi is holding him.
Takemichi is so warm. So alive.
It’s enough to make tears well in his eyes.
Takemichi pulls him in close, face nuzzling the nape of his neck. Mikey’s breath hitches. Oh, he could get used to this.
He would never wake up from nightmares of all the atrocities he’d ever witness if he had this. He would never dream of Shin’s dead body. Or the blood that stained the floor of his bike shop. He would never dream of the funeral. He would never dream of Baji’s body bleeding out. He would never dream of Emma going cold on his back. Not if Takemichi held him like this. Not if he held him like he deserved to be loved and handled with care. Not if Takemichi made him feel so precious.
“I’ll stay as long as you need me to okay,” Takemichi whispers into him.
Forever. Stay forever. Please. And love me. Love me forever. Please.
But Mikey won’t say that. Even if he wants to.
Because this is what he wanted. What he needed.
And this is going to be enough for him for the next 12 years until he sees Takemichi again. And maybe…maybe then he can ask for another hug. Another night of matching his breathing perfectly to his enough to soothe him to sleep. And it would last him another 12 years. It had to.
This had to be enough for 12 years.
Mikey really underestimated how long and lonely 12 years really were.
But it would always be one of his most precious memories. One of the few that made him smile as he flew down down down down down.
