Work Text:
Tic. Tic. Tic.
The room is eerily silent; the house in general is. You get used to it, Teru finds, living alone for so long. You have to get used to it, huh?
The room is eerily silent, an exception made for the clock hanging politely on the wall. An exception made for Teru's short, deep-throated, uneven whines and huffs. An exception made for the constant ringing in his ears, the beating pulse in his arm, and the irritating headache coming arose.
He loves it, nonetheless, he loves all of it. He loves the ringing, the pulsing, the room whirling around him, and his body feeling weak. It feels bad, really bad, that's what makes it so good.
He doesn't necessarily do it because he's depressed or something. Sure, sometimes, when he feels like he's failed so miserably at something, he takes out the shiny blade. Sometimes he just does it to do it, does it to feel like he still has that sense of control and power over his life. A sense of power that no one can strip of him, not this time. Control of his life, not having to rely on anyone. Not his friends, not some random delinquents, not his parents. It makes him feel a sort of guilty pleasure he used to feel when he was still a delinquent.
"Gah!" His body tenses, and the small blade in his hand drops, clinking on the floor noisily. His right hand instinctively grabs his left forearm, squishing the meat of it to close a freshly open cut. It was bigger than he intended, but nothing he couldn't handle.
Blood pools out from under his hand. It leaks down his arm and onto the floor, creating small polka dots of deep red and staining the hardwood under him. Letting go of his forearm, he scoots forward on the couch and bends over to grab a thin towel on the table in front of him. "Hnng.." Grunting as he holds it down on the slash with immense pressure, he sits there for what feels like hours. The room is still spinning, and his headache is only growing. Sweat drops off his face, and his yellow aura is shifting in weird and confusing patterns.
The pulse in his arm continues; if anything, it feels like it's louder than before. It's really loud, it's ringing in his ears, and down to his chest. It feels like his heart is knocking in his brain. He sits there, waiting for it to fizzle out, but it doesn't. It just continues in a repetitive pattern. Knocking in his brain. Knocking. Knocking... Is someone knocking? Is it his heart, or is someone at his door?
His question is shortly answered by a door swinging open after some faint yelling, but it sounds more like static than a voice. Shigeo walks in, notes from math class in hand. He stops midway through the door, though, and the grip on the knob and the stack of papers loosen.
Oh, Kageyama was knocking. Kageyama walked in on Teru in his own home, sitting on his couch with his left arm practically bleeding out and his right on full display with a plethora of fresh, smaller cuts. Teru makes a small hum sound in his throat, too disoriented to really make much of a reaction. They stare at each other, wide-eyed and mouths agape.
"Hanazawa, are you.." The question dies in Shigeo's throat, eyes darting at his arms before fixating back on Teru's sweat dripping face. Teru swallows, and it feels like he's choking on a rock.
"I guess you caught me." He rasps out, sitting up and walking towards Shigeo. He drops the blood filled towel inside a trash bin on his way before coming in a comfortable distance away from Shigeo. "I hope this doesn't make you see me differently." Teru chuckles out, and it's uncomfortable. And it sounds uncomfortable, and he is uncomfortable. They both are. He tugs down his pink and green sweater, covering the still dripping slashes, and grimaces at the material as it scrapes down them all.
Shigeo perks up and closes the door behind him before walking a few steps closer to Teru, He places the notes on the nearby kitchen counter. His face shifts from something of worry and fear to something softer and relaxed now, but he is still visibly weary.
"Of course not, Hanazawa. I'd never think less of you." His voice is steady, calm, and collected. Shigeo really has his shit together, hm? Teru is envious of him for that, and for a multitude of other things. Why is Kageyama so calm anyway? Catching one of your closest friends basically slicing his arm open isn't exactly something an average person can stomach.
Shigeo slowly reaches his hand out to brush Teru's own, staring at their hands as he intertwines them together. He glances up at Teru, who is staring blankly at Shigeo, before looking back at their hands, Teru mimicking him. Shigeo opens his mouth, clearly trying to think of what to say. He closes it, opens it again. It repeats a few times, and at this point, he's rubbing slow circles in Teru's hand nervously. Teru is too nervous to speak, or move, or think. He's too nervous to notice how much pain his arm is in, and how the blood that has slowly started to seep through his sleeve.
"I don't..." Shigeo starts and pauses, "I don't mind. I- Um. I do..." He lets out an exhale, "I do the same."
Huh?
Teru just looks at him, blankly. Confused? Relieved? Surprised? He isn't completely sure. Kageyama? The sweet, understanding, and soft spoken Kageyama? Why would someone like him do it? Then again, Teru does it for stupid reasons, too. Maybe Kageyama has some secret reason he does it, and that's completely fine. He guesses it's just surprising. Teru is completely taken off guard.
"You?" He goes quiet, "Kageyama...I didn't- Um." Teru stammers nervously. What the hell should he say?
"Why do you do it, Hanazawa?" He's cut off with a question from Shigeo, and Teru answers slowly. He answers quietly. He can trust Kageyama, trust him with his life.
"Because...Ah, it's kind of silly." He pulls his hand away from Shigeo's, rolling his sleeve up to reveal the gash. "I just...Like it. It makes me feel good." And with that, a small bashful blush creeps up on his cheeks. Shigeo just hums and stares at the gash. "Why do you, Kageyama?" He asked him, It's only fair.
"Oh. Um. Well, I guess I just like it too. It helps me relieve my emotions when they get too much."
He's being so vulnerable. They both are. They are both so vulnerable together, and it feels so nice. It feels so close and intimate, and Teru doesn't know how to react. It's gross, the butterflies creeping in his stomach. It's gross how much he loves how Shigeo stares at the cuts on his arms. It's gross the idea that pops in his head, and it's gross how it slips out of his mouth so easily.
"Why don't we do it together?"
It goes quiet.
Why the hell did he just say that? What's wrong with him? Kageyama wouldn't want to do th-
"Okay."
And in the span of a few minutes, there they are. Both sitting on the couch and sleeves rolled up, blades in hand. Teru starts but pressing the blade down on his right arm, pointing it inwards before slicing it quickly to the other side. "Hmmg." A whine escapes his throat forcefully. An average-sized slice opens up on his arm, and if he looks hard enough, he's able to see a few beans deep in the wound. He looks up to see Shigeo staring at Teru's newly formed cut, and Teru isn't sure how to describe his reaction. Blood starts to pool inside it, and with that, Teru moves up slightly to repeat the process. Shigeo starts his own not long after, feeling bashful for how long he was staring.
He does a similar method, finding a good spot to leave a new cut and poking into his skin before slicing to the side. Shigeo lets out a soft gasp. A neat cut is open and quickly fills with blood, but Shigeo can see he hit beans. He is slightly prideful of that, hoping Teru saw how deep it was. He looks up through his bangs, and sure enough, Teru is watching. Shigeo notices his arm has a third cut already open, a bit smaller than the other two previously.
There they are, two boys cutting their arms open. The room is filled with their strained sounds of pain and pleasure, the majority on Teru's end. And the room is hot, they're both sweaty, room is still whirling, and their auras are merging. They're so close in so many ways.
"Hanazawa." His voice is soft but hoarse, and they both look up to stare at each other. Have Hanazawa's eyes always been so blue? So...Shiny? "Can I..." He proceeds to scoot closer to Teru and motions his blade toward Teru's arm. Teru never really thought of that before, someone else cutting him. It brings a warm feeling over him, it's filthy, he's sure. It's disgusting. He really likes that idea.
"Please." It comes out more breathily than Teru intended, but he's too excited to be embarrassed over that. Teru's aura shifts to match his emotion more closely, and it's apparent to both of them. With that, so does Shigeo's. Their auras intertwine, like an intimate dance of purple and yellow. And Teru can tell he is just as excited as he is.
Teru lightly puts down his own blade and holds his arm out for him. Shigeo takes this opportunity to hold the downside of Teru's wrist in his palm and holds his blade hovering over a blank spot on Teru's arm. He pushes the tip in and drags a small shallow cut, it beads with small droplets of blood soon after. Shigeo does it again. again and again. It was as if he were a painter and Hanazawa was his canvas and his muse simultaneously. Hanazawa was so pretty, sometimes Shigeo thought he might've been supposed to be born a girl. His arm is slightly tanner than his own, and there are small moles all around. And the cuts are so cute on his skin, the blood makes his olive undertone pop.
He rubs small circles in Teru's wrist as he cuts a deeper slash this time, pausing to examine how Teru's meat looks from the inside. It's bright red and pink, just like anyone else's, but it feels much prettier when he knows it's Teru's. He wishes he could just tear him open and see how his insides look. (But that's for another time, Mob!)
Teru let's out a whimper akin to a mewl, and that rings in Shigeo's head positively. He likes how he sounds. He lastly cuts one more larger cut on the side of Teru's arm, and drops the blade on this side. He lets his now free hand spread apart the folds of flesh, and that just makes Teru groan loudly. He waits for a protest, a hand pushing him away, but it doesn't happen. So he continues. He watches the blood flow out and drop onto the couch, which has been stained with blood long ago.
"K..Kageyama." It's just below a whisper, and their eyes meet once more. Teru's eyes have swelled with tears now, but his face is flushed and sweaty and happy. He's enjoying it all.
He just hums, pulling back to see Teru in all his (bloody) glory. Both his arms were on display, full of new, fresh cuts all ranging in size. All dripping in blood, and some done by Mob's own hands. That makes him really excited. He's disgusting, filthy, for sure. He really likes Teru this way.
He hopes they can do this again, do it often. He wants to cut Teru to pieces, he wants Teru to do the same. Lying in a bed of their own disgusting desires.
(It's filthy, disgusting, so ugly, they're sure.)