Archive of Our Own ^beta

General Sumino could be found at the bar more often than not at this time of night. There were a handful of different spots he cycled through so no one noticed how often he was doing it, and he always went alone. He always wore plain clothes as well, ditching the uniform at home and rinsing the gel out of his hair before slipping into the dark streets of the town surrounding the Rebellion’s citadel. No one ever expected to see the leader of the regime in a dive bar wearing sneakers and a hoodie, and most of the time, he flew under the radar.

Takumi had been searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle for years. He wasn’t an alcoholic, though—he was a twenty-eight year old man who was under immense pressure from the weight of his responsibilities and simply liked to unwind after a long day with a glass or three of whiskey. It was entirely his decision, and if he ever decided he didn’t want to drink anymore, he would have no issue stopping. Until he found something else that could make him forget everything and put him to sleep, however, that wasn’t going to happen.

He drained the glass tumbler in his hand and placed it back on the bar top with a sigh, barely getting a buzz after two drinks. The liquor felt warm in his throat though, the familiar burn bringing him comfort from the constant strain of leadership. Someone slid into the seat beside him then, politely getting the bartender’s attention and speaking with a low, warm voice.

“An old fashioned for me and a refill for my friend here, please.” Takumi turned to look at the stranger and got a friendly smile in return as he rested his elbows on the bar. “If that’s alright with you. You look like you need it.”

“…thanks,” Takumi smiled back after a brief moment of surprised hesitation, supposing he was in no position to refuse free alcohol. The guy was older than him, maybe late thirties, pale eyes and blonde hair tied in a bun that almost looked silver in the pink light of the bar. Takumi found himself inexplicably drawn to it.

“I’m Val’tashe,” he offered Takumi his hand, and he shook it.

“Takumi,” he introduced himself in return.

“Takumi? Never heard a name like that before… where’re you from?”

“Pretty far away from here,” Takumi chuckled, reaching for his glass when the bartender placed it in front of him. “How about you?”

“Not too far, maybe a few days’ drive to the north. My buddies and I joined up with the rebellion few years back after another faction came through and bombed our town to shit. Absolutely crazy attack… hardly any of us stood a chance.”

Takumi felt sick. He clearly remembered being briefed on that incident four years ago. It had been the biggest explosive attack they’d seen yet at the time. He took another long sip of whiskey.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, setting the glass back down and staring into it. “I’m glad you and your friends made it out. And that we have you fighting for us now.”

“Uh, thanks. You too,” Val’tashe smiled. “The more of us the better, right?”

The stranger took a sip of his own drink, and Takumi‘s gaze wandered back to him as he swallowed. He was finally starting to feel tipsy after his third glass, and the dude was kind of attractive. Nice smile, strong jawline… He decided he didn’t mind carrying on this conversation for a little while longer. It wasn’t like there was anyone (attainable) in the army that Takumi could flirt with without it being a gross abuse of authority.

“You here by yourself?” Takumi asked, resting his elbow on the bar and angling his body more in Val’tashe’s direction. “I’ve never seen you before… I think I would have noticed you.”

He smiled at Takumi over the rim of his glass. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Just something about you,” Takumi let his eyes travel down the guy’s body and back up to his not-silver hair. “Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Well yes, I’m here by myself. I’m not usually on this side of town, but I was visiting a friend earlier and thought I’d try someplace new for a change.“ The man’s eyes twinkled. “I chose well. They have my exact type of clientele here, it seems.”

Takumi giggled, his glass hanging from his fingertips by the rim. “Yeah? What type is that?”

“Cute redheads with good taste in liquor,” he replied, openly admiring Takumi. “Especially when they’re sitting at the bar looking all mysterious and lonely.”

Takumi grinned at him, cheeks flushed from the booze. “…you want to order some food or something?”

They ended up with one plate of nachos and one of mozzarella sticks to share, and Takumi switched to drinking gin & tonic, no longer aiming to black out quite so quickly. Val’tashe was looking better after every glass, and their fun, flirtatious banter was almost making Takumi feel alive inside. He hadn’t had sex in ages (there was no reason why, no one in particular he was hung up on), but he was seriously considering changing that if Val’tashe invited him home. It wasn’t often that he clicked this easily with anyone, and Takumi had a feeling this man would show him a good time.

“Oh, refill for you,” Val’tashe pointed, helpfully reaching over to take the glass out of the bartender’s hand and pass it to Takumi.

“This is my last one,” Takumi slurred, bringing the glass to his lips. Val’tashe smiled as he watched him take a long swallow.

“You sure can hold your liquor, Takumi… you don’t feel sick?”

Takumi shook his head, putting the glass down and reaching for the last mozzarella stick. “No, I feel great. Don’ worry, I’m not a barfer.” He giggled.

“I’ve probably had enough, too… I’m having so much fun with you, though. I didn’t expect to meet someone so…”

“So…?” Takumi echoed with a coy smile, picking up his drink to finish it off.

“Hot,” Val’tashe finished with a shy laugh. “And fun to talk to.”

Takumi’s eyes lit up, the compliment giving him a much-needed boost to his self-esteem.

“You’re not bad yourself,” he grinned. “Maybe… we could take this somewhere else?”

Val’tashe’s eyes got a little darker, and Takumi reveled in the feeling of being desired, especially by a man who looked an awful lot like his lieutenant with the lights low and his vision blurry.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” Takumi got up from the barstool and swayed, the room tilting around him, and Val’tashe caught him by the elbow to steady him.

“Whoa, you good?”

“Yeah I’m good,” Takumi nodded, suppressing a hiccup. “Gonna go use th’ little boys’ room. Here, pay my tab?” He started fishing his wallet out of his pocket, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Please, I’ll take care of it. Consider it my thank-you for the great company tonight.”

He was so polite…! Takumi smiled and nodded his thanks. He liked his men a little meaner (his women too, for that matter), but Val’tashe’s chivalry was charming in its own way. “Be right back then.”

He staggered into the restroom, his vision blurred as he made his way into a stall and managed to lock the door. He successfully sat down and peed without falling over, but getting back up suddenly felt incredibly daunting, taking several minutes to get himself back on his feet and his pants rebuttoned. Takumi really hadn’t realized how drunk he was. He exited the stall and gripped the sink with both hands, fighting a wave of dizziness that came over him, unable to focus on his own reflection. It was probably just because he was plastered and alone in a bar bathroom. Once he went back out to where Val’tashe was waiting to take him home, he’d be fine. He clumsily washed his hands, haphazardly drying them off before heading for the door on unsteady legs.

Val’tashe waited right outside for him, catching him when his knees buckled. “Whoa…!” His arms were tight around him, keeping him from hitting the floor. “Are you alright?”

“I’m…” He was tired all of a sudden, finding it almost impossible to answer the question. It was then that he began to realize that something was very wrong, but by that time, his thinking had begun to slow too much to figure it out.

“Don’t worry, Takumi… I’ve got you.” Val’tashe put his arm over his shoulders to support him. “You might have had too much. Let’s get you out of here.”

He was half-carried out to a car and deposited into the backseat, where he fell onto his side and couldn’t sit back up. He’d almost died of alcohol poisoning on his bathroom floor before and it hadn’t felt like this. The car moved, or maybe it didn’t. There were hands on him, dragging him out of the vehicle to some other place. A room? He was pushed and fell forward, but the floor didn’t rise up to meet him. He blinked a few times to orient himself, eventually realizing he was on a bed.

Damn it. He must have passed out somewhere and somebody had to carry him back to the citadel. He was going to be in so much trouble. He’d promised the others he’d only been having one drink per night. “Aotsuki…” he mumbled, knowing it was almost always him who picked him up and put him back together again without asking intrusive questions, saving him over and over again no matter how many times Takumi did this.

“Shit, you really did it,” an unfamiliar voice remarked above him. He was rolled onto his back, blinking at the overhead light first before slowly moving his gaze over the men standing around him. It looked like either three or four—he wasn’t sure if his count was right. Panic sparked in his chest, but there was nothing he could do to react. He was confused. Where was Eito?

“Hey, Sumino.” Val’tashe was leaning over him. “You still with me?”

Takumi’s eyes widened, realizing that he hadn’t shared his surname. Or had he?

“He’s as pretty as they say he is,” someone else commented. Takumi couldn’t see him.

“He was hot for it, too.” Val’tashe grinned at one of them. “The drugs were probably overkill.”

Drugs. He’d been drugged. He made a weak noise of objection, managing to squirm a little, but going nowhere, trembling in his panic.

“Shh, shh Takumi…” His captor was stroking his hair, and he wanted to scream. “We’re not here to torture you or hold you hostage. We just want to get to know you. Namely…”

A hand slid between his legs. Takumi’s face turned ashen, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He couldn’t throw up or he would aspirate. “Shit, it’s true… he doesn’t have one.”

“Are you serious? Take his pants off.”

He couldn’t fight. He could barely keep track of where everyone was. A weak “stop” was all he could muster, and he was ignored. Whatever was going to happen to him next was out of his control entirely.

“Whoa…” somebody breathed, his legs forced open to expose his cunt to these strangers, all of them looming like they were waiting their turn to take a bite out of him. “God, that’s hot…”

“Does he have tits?”

Takumi grunted an objection when a hand slid under his hoodie to grope his chest, shuddering involuntarily. “Nah… top half’s all man.”

All of me is “man,” he wanted to scream and punch him, his conscious mind feeling crushed under the weight of a thousand blankets.

“Oh well… still a gorgeous little pussy.”

Takumi hated that word, hate, hate, hated that word, tears leaking from his eyes when somebody started touching him. He should be furious, horrified, spitting in these men’s faces, but his head was too cottony and his muscles unresponsive, and all he could do was lay there as an involuntary little moan rumbled in his throat.

“You hear that? He likes that.”

He felt like a lab experiment, poked and prodded as they made all sorts of comments about his body. He was so sensitive—a hormonal effect he usually quite enjoyed—but the shocks of pleasure that ran through him as they toyed with his dick were mortifying. It was almost a relief when he was offered a distraction in the form of a cock pressed to his lips, a thumb coaxing his mouth open and turning his head to the side.

“Open up, General.”

It wasn’t like he was remotely capable of sucking dick in that moment, but his attacker didn’t seem to care, content with rocking his hips into the wet heat of his mouth. By the sound of it, Takumi’s unresponsiveness might have even been doing something for him. Someone between his legs prodded at his entrance, and his legs twitched like he wanted to close them, but couldn’t. “Fuck, he’s wet… you must have warmed him up pretty good, Val.”

Takumi moaned softly around the cock in his mouth when the finger curiously slid inside him, feeling around as though to confirm that it was, indeed, a vagina. “Keep touching him here,” said a voice—Val’tashe’s voice—and a thumb started to gently play with his dick. Takumi wasn’t present enough anymore to do anything but let it happen. He couldn’t remember why he was here or why he was crying, making a soft sound of pleasure as warm hands slid up his body.

The man fucking his mouth was getting rougher, thrusting down his throat and twisting his hand in Takumi’s hair. It could be worse. He didn’t really have to do anything this way. He tried to reciprocate, but his muscles weren’t working for some reason. He was also so, so tired. “I picked him up, so I get him first,” he heard Val’tashe saying, and the person fingering him started to press in deep, testing the limits of what Takumi could take.

“Fine by me. I like them better once they’ve been broken in a little.”

The cock in his mouth finally pulled out, leaving Takumi gasping and drooling as someone knelt on the bed between his legs. His eyelids felt heavy, but he managed to look up at Val’tashe anyways. He was giving Takumi that same warm smile that had won him over at the bar.

He didn’t remind Takumi of Eito anymore.

A new cock was in his mouth, the owner of the first one on the bed with him now, one hand roaming over his body while the other jerked himself off. Val’tashe was pressing the head of his cock to his entrance as if he was teasing him, and Takumi slowly realized with a weak breath of despair that none of these men intended to use protection.

“Fuck…” The dick slowly forcing its way into him was big, and it was agony getting split open by it. He wasn’t remotely ready, the first few thrusts shallow and dry and miserable until his body adjusted to the intrusion. It was a relief when the friction was gradually alleviated by natural lubricant. Takumi wasn’t capable of tensing his muscles, so his attacker was met with little resistance after that, groaning and thrusting deep as he used his body for his pleasure. The man in his mouth was doing the same, eventually deciding to just straddle Takumi’s head and fuck his face how he pleased, both hands fisting in his hair. All of it was disorienting, and Takumi felt like he was made of dough, being kneaded and manipulated every which way.

“That’s a good boy, General… I wish your soldiers could see you like this. Or maybe some of them already have?”

There was laughter above him, and someone was pulling Takumi’s hand towards another cock, manually wrapping his fingers around the shaft and rocking his hips forward. “More than some, probably. If I was under his command, I’d be bending him over every night.”

“Just look at him. He loves it.”

Someone was stroking his dick again, and Takumi gasped weakly, reacting unwillingly to the touch. A low moan escaped him with Val’tashe’s next thrust, and it earned him more jeers and a degrading slap on the thigh.

“Yeah, make him moan… shit, that felt good.”

“Take it easy man, that’s a lot of blood. Don’t break him before we get him.”

Takumi lost track of what was going on for a while, barely conscious and vaguely aware of being manhandled onto his knees at some point. The guy fucking his mouth eventually came in it, spilling over his tongue before pulling out and aiming for his face, narrowly missing his eyes and dirtying his hair as his release dripped down his face. “Damn, sweetheart… you’ve got a throat on you.”

Someone else held him by the hair and leaned down to kiss him. Takumi was fighting to stay awake. He couldn’t fall asleep during sex; that was so rude. He should be doing something to please these men he’d apparently taken to bed, not just lying limp on the mattress. Why was he just lying there?

The man who was fucking him slammed in deep and stayed there, moaning roughly as he filled him with his seed. He was dropped by whoever held him and landed face-first on the bed, his groan muffled by the blanket underneath him as his head spun. That was weird too. He was always so careful, never once having allowed someone to top him without a condom in his life. Why was he letting this guy do it?

It didn’t matter. The cock pulled out only to be replaced with another, and his grip on consciousness slipped a little further. He was pretty sure the sex didn’t feel bad (he wasn’t sure it was good either), but he also felt horrible for some reason, his head starting to ache and his stomach rolling. There was a spit-slick finger rubbing against his asshole, but he couldn’t stay conscious no matter how hard he fought the drowsiness, the world fading away around him until everything went black.

—

It was almost 11 at night when the urgent knock came on Eito’s door, and his blood immediately ran cold. There was only one reason someone would be seeking him out this late. He swung the door open and looked down into the flushed face of one of his spies, the woman panting and breathless, clearly having ran here. “Sir,” she saluted.

“What’s happened?”

He stepped aside for her, not thinking twice about admitting this hideous creature into his private space. She didn’t hesitate to come in either despite him being outranked by only two people in the whole rebellion, and that was a key characteristic of the intelligence agents he selected for nightly Takumi detail (as well as discretion).

“Sir. The general was drinking at Exiles & Ales tonight and spent an hour talking to a man at the bar. Shortly before the two of them left together, the general appeared drastically more intoxicated than he’d been 15 minutes before and needed help walking out to the man’s car. I was unable to reach my vehicle quickly enough to pursue them. I apologize.”

“No, you’ve done well. Which direction?”

“West, sir.”

“And the car?”

“Silver, sir.”

“And was this man…” Eito grimaced. “…amorous?”

“…yes, sir.”

“Thank you, soldier. Dismissed.”

Eito threw his coat over his shoulders and laced himself into his boots before leaving in a rush, only stopping to grab the essentials he’d likely need to deal with this. He’d found and carried Takumi home plenty of times before, but he didn’t like the sound of what he’d just been told. He would start at Exiles & Ales and head west, tracking the radio transmitter he’d hidden in the sole of Takumi’s sneaker years ago from there. Logically, he knew he was probably already too late. He had eyes in all the bars Takumi frequented, and he knew from experience that it took a good fifteen minutes minimum to get from any of them all the way to Eito’s door. From Exiles and Ales, it was probably more like twenty minutes. He hoped that he would be able to trace the signal quickly, but there was no guarantee. He had to prepare himself for the worst.

By the time he pinpointed Takumi’s location, almost forty-five more minutes had passed, and Eito felt like his sanity was about to run out. He was at some shady motel in the rough part of town, inconspicuous and out of the way, and sure enough, there was a silver car sitting in the parking lot. He was boiling over with rage as he threw his own car into park and got out, slamming the door behind him.

If someone was putting hands on Takumi Sumino in one of these rooms, that someone was going to die.

He moved from door to door in silence, pausing to listen at each one for hints that something was amiss inside. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end when he came to one with the faint, yet clear sound of fucking within, several male voices talking and laughing over it.

Whatever plan he might have been forming in his mind went out the window in an instant.

He kicked the door so hard that the lock broke on the first try, frightening everyone inside as they jumped and gasped. There were three of them, all partially undressed on the bed in the center. One of them had clearly just pulled out of whoever it was he’d been enjoying, and when Eito shifted his gaze down to the nude figure on the mattress between them, he saw a flash of red hair over one of their shoulders.

Eito Aotsuki, infamous for being cold and calculating and unshakable even in the most harrowing of situations, saw his vision turn red as he violently and savagely and utterly snapped.

His gun was in his hand before he’d finished slamming the busted door shut behind him—the one with the silencer attached that he used for assassinations—aiming and shooting the monster kneeling between Takumi’s legs right between his eyes. The impact knocked him off the bed, blood spraying as he went, and the other two flew into a panic, jumping up and shouting with their damn cocks out like fools. Eito couldn’t take it, putting a bullet through the second man’s neck, and his body fell right on top of Takumi’s, who didn’t even stir. The last one tried to rush him, but Eito deflected the attack by punching the guy in the face hard enough to make something crunch, shooting him twice when he went down just for good measure. Crazed eyes turned to the corpse on the bed as soon as they’d all stopped moving, grabbing it by the hair and nearly throwing it off of Takumi, the body hitting the wall hard before dropping to the floor in a puddle of blood.

It wasn’t enough. He’d killed them too fast. He hadn’t meant to. He’d meant to take them out of here and do it slowly, let them really regret what they’d done before putting them out of their misery. His face was splattered in blood as he turned back to the creature he’d shot first. He was distorted and hideous, but Eito knew that what he was looking at was his dick and that it was blood streaking the rotted flesh and then Eito was crushing the disgusting thing under his boot, having half a mind to take out his knife and completely chop off whatever was left.

He had to get a grip. He’d killed them all, their blood now drenching the room to prove it. There was no cleaning it up now that it was done. His only choice now was to get Takumi out of here before they were seen.

“Takumi,” he said urgently, rearranging his limbs into a more natural position and shaking his shoulder. He felt for a pulse when he received no response and leaned down to listen to his breathing, confirming that he was alive. Eito looked at him then, really looked at him, and the horror of what had been done here hit him harder than he imagined it would. There was cum all over him—in his hair, dribbling from his mouth, splattering his chest, and worst of all…

Eito swallowed. He had an understanding of what Takumi’s genitalia probably looked like after nearly six years of the hormone therapy Yugamu had developed in collaboration with Kamyuhn, but it was still difficult for him to visually make sense of when he peeked between Takumi’s legs. He could tell that there was semen leaking out of him though, clenching his teeth as he shifted back to Takumi’s side. Eito stared down at his face, taking a deep breath to clear his mind and forcing his emotions to the side. “Okay.”

He had to redress him, at least as best he could. It was difficult, Takumi being dead weight and unable to cooperate, but he got the hoodie on and his pants up over his hips before putting the shoes back on his feet. He wiped Takumi’s face clean with a towel from the bathroom, hiding all the visible evidence of the assault before lifting him into his arms just as he’d done so many times before. Eito did all of it quickly, carrying Takumi to the car and carefully placing him in the backseat before getting back behind the wheel, leaving his rapists bleeding on the floor to be discovered in the morning.

It wasn’t a terribly shocking sight to see Eito carrying the blacked-out general through the officers’ residential wing late at night. Most of the Futuran veterans who noticed them simply grimaced and looked away, pity in their eyes. Ima was awake and about though, and they encountered him on the landing of the stairs, both he and Eito stopping short.

“…is he alright?” Ima asked quietly, staring at Takumi limp in his arms.

“He will be,” Eito replied after a moment’s pause. Ima didn’t move out of the way.

“He’s just drunk?” Ima’s eyes traveled down his body and back up again, looking at Eito uncertainly. “His clothes are…”

Eito didn’t respond this time, simply staring at Ima in silence. There was an unusually sober look on his face. Eito knew the kinds of horrible things that humanity had implanted into Ima’s memories, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was seeing right through the haphazard job Eito had done of hiding the evidence. Eventually Ima spoke again, a worried crease between his eyebrows.

“Isn’t he… I mean, doesn’t he have…”

“Yes,” Eito replied neutrally, inferring what Ima was trying to say. “So if you’ll step aside, I need to get him in bed before calling on Doctor Omokage.”

“…I’ll do it,” Ima said, an unreadable look on his face as he moved out of Eito’s way. “I’ll find him, just… stay with Mr. Sumino. You can’t leave his side… you can’t let him wake up alone.”

Eito looked at him for a long moment before nodding. “Thank you, Ima. I’ll look after him.”

He opened Takumi’s room with his master key and kicked it shut behind him, sighing when Takumi was finally resting atop his own bed. Eito stood over him and stared at him, rearranging him into a recovery position just in case before stepping back again. He was at a bit of a loss regarding what to do next and tried to imagine himself in this situation. As mostly-healed as he may be now from the trauma from his artificial past, he was still pretty sure he would either isolate himself for the rest of his life or simply throw himself off the roof. He wasn’t Takumi, though. Takumi always leaned into Eito’s casual touches, not shy away from them. He made it no secret how much he relied on Eito for support. Would he mind, then? If the person who helped clean him up was Eito?

He eventually decided he couldn’t stand to sit there knowing how many germs must be on Takumi’s skin, leaving his bedside just long enough to fetch a pair of nitrile gloves from his own room. He had a feeling Takumi wouldn’t be wearing this outfit ever again, so he cut him out of the clothes this time rather than fighting to get them back off. Getting Takumi in the tub, washing his limp body, and drying him off seemed like an impossible feat. Eito just didn’t have enough arms. He had to settle for a sponge bath—gently wiping Takumi’s face and chest with a warm soapy washcloth until he couldn’t see the nonexistent bugs crawling all over him anymore.

Cleaning inside him was a line Eito couldn’t cross, but with the protective barrier of the gloves, he could at least bring himself to clean him externally. His objection to being so close to someone’s genitals wasn’t as strong as the revulsion he felt imagining himself in Takumi’s shoes. He managed to wipe up all that had seeped out of him, using a fresh washcloth to gently clean the whole area, knowing how prone this anatomy was to infections if one wasn’t careful. The whole process was far less nauseating overall than he’d expected. It was a simple, clinical task, and it was for Takumi. He’d always done whatever it took to keep Takumi in one piece. This was no different.

There was a trace of blood on the cloth, and Eito squinted at the incomprehensible eldritch horror between Takumi’s legs trying to pinpoint the injury. He was pretty good at identifying blood, and his visual inspection led him to conclude that the injury must be internal. Eito ground his teeth again in anger. He wished he’d taken the time to make those grotesque demons bleed from their dicks before he killed them.

He disposed of the gloves and moved Takumi’s legs together when he was done, putting him back on his side. He didn’t know what he’d been drugged with or how long it would last, but he didn’t plan on leaving this room until Takumi woke up. There was a quiet knock on the door, and Eito opened it to find Ima. He offered Eito a small bottle containing two pills. “I didn’t tell him who it was for, but one is the contraceptive and the other is a painkiller. It… helps a lot. To deal with it all when you’re just waking up. Give him these as soon as he’s conscious.”

Eito took the bottle from his hand, inspecting it before looking at Ima with a little more appreciation than before. “Thank you… I appreciate your help, Ima.”

Ima simply gave him a small smile in return, nodding his head before turning and disappearing down the hallway. Eito watched him go before retreating back inside the room. The pills were set aside for when Takumi woke up, and Eito placed his boots and coat neatly aside before dragging a chair over to his bedside and settling in for the night. He watched Takumi’s slow breathing until his eyelids grew too heavy to keep them open any longer, finally nodding off in the early hours of the morning.

—

Takumi woke up with a splitting headache, sick and disoriented and hurting all over. He at least managed to lean over the side of the bed before he vomited, eyes watering and sinuses burning, trembling as his stomach twisted into knots. The next thing he realized was that Eito was kneeling on the bed behind him, gloved fingers gingerly brushing his hair away from his face and speaking to him in a low, soft voice. He couldn’t make sense of it, his stomach heaving again, but there was nothing left to puke up. He whimpered, shoulders shaking with silent, pathetic sobs of agony and mortification as he struggled for breath.

He’d gone too far again. He remembered getting to the bar and having a few glasses of liquor, but the rest of the night was completely missing from his memory. Takumi knew his damn limits. Why the hell would he push himself so far past them on a Tuesday night?

His final realization, covering his nose and mouth with the back of his hand and looking back at Eito, was that he was naked and really fucking sore. Eito was dressed, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d probably been awake for hours already. His heart started pounding, feeling his face heating up and clutching at the blankets that covered his body, staring at him in wide-eyed panic. “E-Eito, you… we didn’t…”

“N-no!” Eito’s eyes widened, turning as red as Takumi was. “No, fuck, no we didn’t!”

As relieved as he was, Takumi didn’t love that answer. Would it have really been that terrible for Eito if they had?

“Then… w-what happened…?”

Eito’s jaw set, tensely using the edge of the sheet to wipe Takumi’s mouth and nose. There was something off about the way he was acting. He took care of Takumi, sure, but he never doted on him like this. Takumi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. He’d never seen Eito struggle for words before, and his stomach turned over again. “Eito?”

“You were assaulted,” he eventually said in the same even, neutral tone he used to give reports, breaking eye contact. “Your drink was spiked and you lost consciousness. I didn’t find you in time to stop it from happening.”

Takumi stared at him, neither of them saying anything for several long, tense moments as he processed what Eito had just said, slowly shaking his head as it finally started to sink in. “No.”

“Takumi—“

“No fucking way.”

He got out of bed, avoiding the vomit on the floor, not giving a damn if Eito saw him naked if he’d already seen what he was claiming to last night. He braced his hands on the countertop as he stared in the mirror at himself, his breathing shallow as he searched frantically for evidence of an assault. His face looked fine, but there were shadows of bruises on his wrists and waist, his hand trembling as he reached down to inspect between his legs. His skin was tender, and dipping just the tip of his middle finger into himself was enough to feel that it was unnaturally wet, and Takumi barely managed to reach the toilet before throwing up again.

Eito slowly stepped into the bathroom as he coughed and sobbed into the bowl, standing in the doorway and gazing down at him. He hated this. He still loved watching Takumi suffer from time to time, but not like this. There was a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, and Eito took it down and wordlessly wrapped Takumi in it. “…are you finished throwing up?”

Takumi sniffled, grabbing a few squares of toilet paper to wipe his nose again, his voice raw and unsteady. “I hope so…”

“Take these then.” Eito knelt beside him, offering him the pill bottle. “A painkiller and an emergency contraceptive. From Yugamu.”

Takumi looked at him, glancing at the bottle and back at Eito, looking surprised. “…t-thank you…” He carefully took the bottle from his hand, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. “You really thought of that?”

“I think of everything,” Eito scoffed, and a ghost of a smile played on Takumi’s lips despite his tears. Eito filled a cup at the sink for him, handing it to Takumi to wash down the pills before offering him a hand up.

“I have to shower,” Takumi said, still a little shaky. “W-will you stay until I’m done?”

Eito nodded. “I’m not leaving until you order me out, Takumi.”

Closing the door behind him with Takumi on the other side felt strange. It was as though something fundamental had changed about their relationship in the last twelve hours. Eito wasn’t sure he liked someone getting this close to him, even if that someone was Takumi, but he wasn’t sure that he hated it either.

He cleaned up the vomit on the floor. He’d dealt with his own sensitive stomach long enough not to be phased by it. He took the liberty of going through Takumi’s drawers to find a full set of clean clothes for him before filling a glass with fresh water to drink when he came out. Takumi took a long time in the shower, and Eito found that he could empathize. He’d had days with so much unwanted human contact that it took hours of scrubbing before he felt clean again, especially when he was younger. He waited in the chair he’d slept in, not caring that it was mid-morning in the middle of the week. Whatever work he was supposed to be doing right now would just have to wait.

The water finally shut off after an hour, and Takumi emerged wrapped in his robe with wet hair in his eyes, looking more like the kid he’d been when Eito first met him than the general of their armies or the leader of the regime. “I remember talking to a guy at the bar. I don’t remember anything about him, but I think we ate together. Was it him?”

Eito looked up at him, nodding silently. Takumi made his way over to the bed, sitting on the edge of it with a neutral expression. “I went back and forth about it, but I decided I want to know. As much as you’re able to tell me about what happened to me.”

Eito took a deep breath and nodded again. He’d rather not recount the details when Takumi already looked so broken, but he understood. He would want to know too. “There was… one of our soldiers there at the bar last night who recognized you. She reported that you were flirting with someone at the bar for an hour or so, and then you left together. But she said at that point, she’d started paying attention because you were acting strangely. That you suddenly seemed far more drunk than you were just 10 or 15 minutes earlier.”

He didn’t see a need to tell Takumi he had spies assigned to keep an eye on him whenever he left the citadel at night. Takumi didn’t look at him, his eyes unfocused as he listened. He wasn’t trembling anymore at least, and Eito hoped the painkiller was settling his nervous system.

“I don’t remember leaving the bar.”

Eito nodded, sitting in silence for a moment before continuing. “The soldier came back here and reported what she’d seen to me. I went out to find you, but it took longer than I hoped. You were in some sketchy motel in the red light district.”

“Better than an alleyway, I guess…”

Eito looked at him like he was crazy, but Takumi still didn’t meet his eyes. “They could have raped you in the goddamn penthouse of a five-star hotel and it wouldn’t make a bit of difference, Takumi.”

“They…” Takumi echoed hollowly, and Eito realized he hadn’t established yet that there had been more than one.

“Three,” he said quietly. Takumi closed his eyes for a few moments. “I’m sorry.”

“So you broke in like my knight in shining armor, I assume? What happened after that?”

A muscle in Eito’s jaw shifted. “…I shot them all dead.”

Takumi looked at him then, eyes widening. “You killed them…? Why not arrest them and haul them back here? You know you have that authority.”

“Because you were lying like a ragdoll on the bed between them passed out cold while they took turns using all your fucking holes.”

It came out way harsher than Eito meant for it to, but it seemed to communicate the sentiment rather effectively to Takumi. Horror and revulsion and humiliation crossed his face, as well as something Eito couldn’t identify.

“…alright. You won’t get court-martialed by me for that.”

“I redressed you and got you the hell out of there. Once we were back here, I burned your clothes and got you as clean as I could before putting you to bed.”

“You really did all that for me…?” Takumi stared at him. “That’s… way beyond dragging my drunk ass home in the middle of the night.”

“Takumi, I kind of feel like you should already know this, but you’re kind of the only person alive that I genuinely give a damn about. Ever since you let me back on the team and gave me something to live for with my role here, I’ve been doing whatever it takes to keep you safe. So you’re not losing your life on my watch after you gave me mine.”

It was a shockingly passionate speech from him, and Takumi was taken aback, tears slipping down his face as he searched for something to say.

“He reminded me of you,” he eventually confessed in a whisper, voice trembling. “When I first saw him at the bar… I remember thinking he resembled you in some ways. In the dark… and with three or four drinks in me.” It was Eito’s turn to stare at him in stunned silence as he parsed out Takumi’s words.

“Takumi, what—“

“I’m so sorry,” Takumi sobbed, and Eito found himself acting on a bizarre impulse to hold him, joining Takumi on the edge of the bed and pulling him close to his chest. “I’m s-sorry Eito, this is all my fault… I just wanted to feel wanted so bad t-that I let my guard down…!”

Eito blinked several times, working hard to catch up before he lost track of this conversation completely. “…Okay first of all, none of this is your fault, Takumi. It’s not a crime to talk to people at a bar. And what do you mean, feeling ‘wanted’? If it’s sex you want, I’m pretty sure half of the army would sleep with you in a heartbeat. You have your pick of practically anyone you could want.”

“That’s not it,” Takumi said miserably into his shirt, and Eito let out a deep sigh.

“Okay, you have to help me out here, then. You know this is out of my wheelhouse. What am I not getting?”

“I can’t pick anyone I want,” Takumi said, his voice muffled. He must have been feeling especially vulnerable, rarely opening up  like this to anyone. “If I did… i-it would ruin everything.”

Eito wasn’t stupid, and those words were enough for him to connect the dots. “Let’s… just talk more about all that once you’re feeling better, okay?” The truth was he had no idea what to say and needed more time to think. “What you need most right now is rest and to take care of yourself. Do you want something to eat?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite,” Takumi mumbled.

“Just snacks then. Maybe a latte? I could use some caffeine too.”

“You’re gonna go get it…?” Takumi asked hesitantly as Eito got up, looking over his shoulder at Takumi’s question.

“Me? No, not personally. I’m going to make Gaku do it and come right back. I’m not leaving you by yourself for more than three minutes until I can trust you not to do anything stupid.”

Takumi flushed. Exactly how many of his secrets did Eito know? “And if I just ordered you to leave?”

Eito shrugged. “I’ll send Mojiro to take my place.”

Takumi went pale. The last thing he wanted in this broken, fragile state was Moko’s particular brand of affection and motivation.

Eito smiled at him. “Be good, then.” he said before disappearing into the hall.

—

A few days passed, and Takumi slowly started to feel human again. Lieutenant Aotsuki assumed interim command while the general recovered from his “illness,” shouldering Takumi’s leadership responsibilities while still somehow making time to see him every day. He’d apparently told their friends that Takumi had “been through an ordeal” and encouraged them to visit as well, under the orders that they were not to ask for any details of the ordeal in question. He didn’t get out of bed for the first day, but he got up on the second, and he even showered and got dressed on the third. The ache in his body started fading away along with his bruises, and he felt better yet once he was back in good physical condition.

When Eito came, he would talk about the attack and how he was feeling about it that day. Eito had little to say as far as advice and encouragement went, but he listened. He paid attention to every word Takumi said, and it made Takumi feel better just knowing that he wasn’t the only person still alive who knew what he’d been through. He felt closer to Eito than ever before, and there was a pathetic, broken part of him that dreaded the day that he would be “healed” enough and Eito would stop coming so often, his duty of keeping Takumi safe fulfilled once again. He knew he’d said too much when his walls were torn down and he was high on painkillers that first morning, but Eito hadn’t brought it up again, so Takumi hoped he simply hadn’t paid his odd comments any mind.

Of course, he wasn’t so lucky.

“I need to speak with you,” he announced one evening about a week after the attack, coming into his room still dressed in full uniform down to the boots. Takumi tried to ignore how good he looked and focused solely on his face.

“About what…?”

Eito sat in his usual chair and crossed his legs. “Something you said last week that’s been on my mind.”

Oh no. Oh god no.

“A-and that is…?”

“You said that you were seduced at a bar by a man you thought resembled me. You later mentioned that the reason you wanted him was because you ‘wanted to feel wanted,’ but not by just anyone. That having the person you actually want could ‘ruin everything.’”

Takumi knew he couldn’t bluff his way out of that one, so he didn’t try. He sat silently in bed facing Eito’s direction, but not meeting his eyes.

“Takumi? Is that someone me?”

“It doesn’t matter who it is,” he insisted, face getting warm. “We have a war to fight. Worrying about things like that is a waste of time.”

“Takumi, look at me.”

He did. Eito was so beautiful, looking like an angel with his pale skin, eyes, hair, and uniform. He almost seemed out of place in that dark room that had grown progressively messier each day.

“I’ve spent a week thinking about this. I don’t think I’m sexually attracted to you, and I’m not sure I ever will be. That goes for everybody, really; it’s just the way I am. But…” Eito winced to himself, clearly uncomfortable saying all of this out loud. “…my understanding of love is always putting someone else first. Feeling safe with someone, and wanting to do whatever you can to see them happy. Being devoted to them unconditionally and wanting to keep them by your side forever. And going by that definition…” he took another deep breath, “…I suppose that I love you, Takumi.”

Takumi stared at him with his mouth open. Eito forced himself to stay there, to sit with the truth he’d just confessed to no matter how Takumi responded. Takumi was right. They were at war. And now that he’d come to this conclusion, Eito didn’t mind being the one to risk ruining their working relationship. Better that than regret it forever if one of them died tomorrow.

Takumi started tearing up, voice shaking. “Y-you… I’ve been hung up on you for years, and it takes me getting gang raped for you to realize you like me back?”

It did sound pretty asinine when you put it like that. Eito flushed, averting his eyes. “G-give me a break, will you…? You were the first person I ever liked in any capacity. How was I supposed to figure out the difference between all the different types of ‘like’ with so little data?”

Eito felt stupid, and if there was one thing he hated more than anything else, it was feeling stupid. But he was doing it for Takumi. He could suffer through this uncertainty for his sake. And if it didn’t work out in the end or Takumi turned him down, he could always just kill himself.

He held his breath when Takumi threw his arms around him and hugged him tight, but he slowly relaxed once he realized this didn’t feel bad at all. He hesitantly returned the gesture, carefully wrapping his arms around Takumi and staring into space as he concentrated on the warm feeling of his embrace. When Takumi tried to pull away, Eito didn’t let him. He let out a soft laugh and rested his chin on Eito’s shoulder in wordless acceptance of this fate.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Takumi said softly, closing his eyes and breathing in the subtle scent of Eito’s soap and aftershave. “Does that make you my boyfriend?”

Eito made a little sound of disgust and disapproval. “Can I be something that doesn’t sound so juvenile?”

“Lieutenant, but with a heart dotting the i.”

Eito huffed a laugh at that, and Takumi couldn’t stop smiling. “That sounds more appropriate.”

“Thank you,” Takumi said quietly, tucking his face into the side of Eito’s neck. “For always being there to pick up the pieces every time I break. I think I would have died a long time ago if it weren’t for you.”

“Probably,” Eito agreed. “You’re lucky you have such a good guard dog. And now that you’re mine, I finally have an excuse to kill everyone who’s ever wronged you.”

“You’ve done plenty of that for a while.” Takumi pulled back to smile at him, his eyes wet with tears. Eito blinked back at him in awe. Takumi almost looked kind of cute when he made that face.

“Can I kiss you?” he heard himself ask, wanting to know what it felt like regardless of how horrible it seemed. Takumi’s smile widened, nodding and wiping his eye with a hand.

“If it’s you, the answer’s always yes.”

The first press of their lips was slow, soft, and chaste. It filled Takumi with a warmth he’d never felt with anyone else, all of those experiences paling in comparison to this. It didn’t even go any further—no buildup of heat or exchange of saliva—yet even the best sex he’d ever had couldn’t compete with the euphoria of running his fingers through Eito’s hair as he kissed him. “Not bad,” Eito murmured when they parted, and Takumi recognized it for the high praise that it was.

“I’m not going to drink anymore,” he declared, and Eito gave him a look over his glasses. “I mean it. I’m getting clean. I can’t spend time with you if I’m wasted every night. No more, starting now.”

“Maybe let’s start by cutting back to two per night and see how that goes,” Eito brushed his hair back, soft leather grazing Takumi’s skin. “And if you want to go out to drink, take me with you. That way I can make sure you don’t black out and that nothing like this ever happens again.”

“Deal,” Takumi nodded. Eito had killed three men in his defense last week and countless more before that. From then on, he would do whatever the hell Eito told him to do in order to repay him. Eito pecked his lips again with a soft smile before getting back up.

“It’s late. I’d like you to come to your briefing tomorrow if you feel up for it. I’ll be there too, of course… but I think taking some decisive action will make you feel better. If I know you the way I think I do.”

He was right. As much as the burden of leadership strained him to his limits, it meant everything to Takumi that he held a position of enough power to create real change in the world. It was why he took the command of the rebellion’s military from Kamyuhn in the first place, with his most trusted advisor right behind him every step of the way.

“I think I’d like that,” Takumi nodded, watching Eito fix his blanket before heading towards the door. “Hey… thank you again for everything.”

Eito paused and looked back at him with warmth in his eyes.

“For the man who taught me how to love, no thanks will ever be necessary, General.”

Takumi’s room was silent again once Eito closed the door behind him, but the darkness didn’t close in on him this time. It lingered, slithering through the back of his mind like a poisonous snake and casting shadows in the corners of his heart, but there was a new, warm light inside him that the pain and fear and desire to destroy himself all seemed to fall back from.

Maybe he wasn’t shattered beyond repair after all.