[ no matter what, choso must be strong for his brothers.
so he sits up. lets yuji embrace him, lets himself be held and soothed even if every platelet in his body sighs that this is nothing he has earned. a hand lifts to settle at yuji’s side. ]
I know, Yuji.
[ both hands, one on either side, the better to lift the pink lad up mid-hug and deposit him, more conveniently, (and without a single damn thought about it) into choso’s fishnet lap. like this, he can hold tighter, return the squeeze with his cheek squished against yuji’s, offer some sort of assurance without having to show his coward’s face, unable to hide. ]
[ Yuji sinks into the solid weight of Choso, squeezing him gently.
Does his brother know how much Yuji trusts him? Knowing that Choso will witness these events sooner rather than later, trusting him to unburden his heart to him, to offer it all over to him... Breathing out, he lets himself use Choso's strength to keep him up.
He tells Choso more than he tells anyone else. He trusts his brother to help him.
Arms and legs wrap around Choso, more childlike than Yuji would like to admit to, pressing his face into his brother's chest. ]
[ choso must be strong; yuji deserved nothing less than choso’s best efforts, so he can only give, give, give. selfishly, earnestly, in the only way he knows how.
so he holds yuji tight, an arm secure around his shoulders while the other curls up so he may run his bigger fingers through pink hair, carding it in one turn before smoothing it the next. choso, he doesn’t realise he’s doing it when he begins to rock in place, a steady back-and-forth in time with the thrum of his pulse, the measured pull of his breathing. ]
I will always listen. I will always be here to.
[ he doesn’t need a ring to convey the love he already feels, welling up and pouring over the edges of him. it’s in the press of his mouth to the top of yuji’s head, it’s in the quiet of his voice when he whispers, ]
[ The tight, secure embrace is exactly what he needs, even if it's a little... Awkward that his brother is dressed like this...
The rocking is odd, but soothing, and Yuji lets it happen, allowing himself to be held and cherished and comforted in a way that only his sibling can do. The softness of it is unusual for him, and he basks in it, letting his expression soften and his eyes close as he nods his head. ]
I'll do the same for you, okay?
[ He grips at the back of Choso's weird costume. ]
I promise. I'm your little brother, right? So I'm making a promise as a brother.
Yuji rubs his hand along his back, laughing softly. ]
We will.
[ Then, haltingly, hesitating - ]
I love you, Choso.
[ In whatever way that love is... He knows he feels it, intensely, rushing through him in the last few weeks, a deeply, platonic affection he can't hide. ]
[ choso is so, so silent for a long minute afterward. for that minute (seventy-nine seconds), there is only the sound of their breathing; the steady rise and fall of choso’s chest, the whisper of each exhale through his teeth, the individual cacophony of each fiber in each thread in each shift of their weight on the bed. even his heart feels quiet, its beat become muted in the perfect inertia of this singular, aching moment
the maelstrom of his thoughts has quieted.
In the aching, heavy pause after Yuji has spoken, Choso whispers back, (quiet as he can be but it is still an agonizing grate, a jagged stone stumbled into a mirror-surface pond) ]
He's sure his grandpa loved him, but it's not like they had that emotional connection. He never got to say it to Nanamin, and he could never admit to Kugisaki or Megumi how much he cares about them, so... So...
Breathing out, he tilts his head up and presses his forehead to Choso's, gripping him as he sniffles. It's too much.
He doesn't deserve this, does he?
He's barely Choso's brother. Barely a person, now. But still...
[ Yuji’s head lifting pulls Choso out of hiding, bares for the world the tears streaking heavily down his face to run in messy red bars through his weird, oozing blood mark. Once again, Choso is a mess, sniffling loudly now that the jig is up and he need not hide his moistness. (a wet spot has formed on top of Yuji’s head anyway.) When their foreheads meet, Choso’s tears are free to just plop everywhere, dripping bloody and ominous from his chin and jaw all over Yuji and down the deep v-cut of Choso’s outfit.
He hasn’t the breath or the head for words now, not when he’s snuffling, eyes positively running free with tears he can’t even fathom stopping. Bereft of language, Choso lets his hands talk for him, lets his palms run up the planes of Yuji’s back to run his fingers through pink hair.
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no subject
so he sits up. lets yuji embrace him, lets himself be held and soothed even if every platelet in his body sighs that this is nothing he has earned. a hand lifts to settle at yuji’s side. ]
I know, Yuji.
[ both hands, one on either side, the better to lift the pink lad up mid-hug and deposit him, more conveniently, (and without a single damn thought about it) into choso’s fishnet lap. like this, he can hold tighter, return the squeeze with his cheek squished against yuji’s, offer some sort of assurance without having to show his coward’s face, unable to hide. ]
Thank you for showing me.
no subject
Does his brother know how much Yuji trusts him? Knowing that Choso will witness these events sooner rather than later, trusting him to unburden his heart to him, to offer it all over to him... Breathing out, he lets himself use Choso's strength to keep him up.
He tells Choso more than he tells anyone else. He trusts his brother to help him.
Arms and legs wrap around Choso, more childlike than Yuji would like to admit to, pressing his face into his brother's chest. ]
Thank you. For listening.
no subject
so he holds yuji tight, an arm secure around his shoulders while the other curls up so he may run his bigger fingers through pink hair, carding it in one turn before smoothing it the next. choso, he doesn’t realise he’s doing it when he begins to rock in place, a steady back-and-forth in time with the thrum of his pulse, the measured pull of his breathing. ]
I will always listen. I will always be here to.
[ he doesn’t need a ring to convey the love he already feels, welling up and pouring over the edges of him. it’s in the press of his mouth to the top of yuji’s head, it’s in the quiet of his voice when he whispers, ]
I promise.
no subject
The rocking is odd, but soothing, and Yuji lets it happen, allowing himself to be held and cherished and comforted in a way that only his sibling can do. The softness of it is unusual for him, and he basks in it, letting his expression soften and his eyes close as he nods his head. ]
I'll do the same for you, okay?
[ He grips at the back of Choso's weird costume. ]
I promise. I'm your little brother, right? So I'm making a promise as a brother.
no subject
so choso rocks, and he buries his face in yuji’s hair, uncaring of whatever he looked like, whatever they looked like. ]
Yes. Yes, okay. We will hold each other to it. Okay.
no subject
Yuji rubs his hand along his back, laughing softly. ]
We will.
[ Then, haltingly, hesitating - ]
I love you, Choso.
[ In whatever way that love is... He knows he feels it, intensely, rushing through him in the last few weeks, a deeply, platonic affection he can't hide. ]
no subject
the maelstrom of his thoughts has quieted.
In the aching, heavy pause after Yuji has spoken, Choso whispers back, (quiet as he can be but it is still an agonizing grate, a jagged stone stumbled into a mirror-surface pond) ]
I love you too, Yuji. I will always love you.
no subject
He doesn't know.
He's sure his grandpa loved him, but it's not like they had that emotional connection. He never got to say it to Nanamin, and he could never admit to Kugisaki or Megumi how much he cares about them, so... So...
Breathing out, he tilts his head up and presses his forehead to Choso's, gripping him as he sniffles. It's too much.
He doesn't deserve this, does he?
He's barely Choso's brother. Barely a person, now. But still...
... Still.
He blinks back his tears. ]
I'm glad. I'm so glad.
no subject
He hasn’t the breath or the head for words now, not when he’s snuffling, eyes positively running free with tears he can’t even fathom stopping. Bereft of language, Choso lets his hands talk for him, lets his palms run up the planes of Yuji’s back to run his fingers through pink hair.
Sorry about your head and shirt, Yuji. ]