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The World Unbroken

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The blinking light of a fridge was the only thing disrupting the dark apartment besides the TV screen. There were no rugs on the floor to muffle the echo of footsteps and no curtains on the windows.

The takeout dishes were abandoned on the kitchen counter and day clothes tossed haphazardly on a chair. Shuuichi was immersed in the movie, sitting his back straight on the sofa. Every few minutes he paused and repeated the actor's lines out loud to himself.

His practise was interrupted by a demanding knock on the door. Shuuichi jumped, looked at the time and then out the window. It was pitch black outside, and when he paused the movie, he could hear the loud static noise of rain.

Nevertheless, he stood from the couch and moved towards the door. He was about to take a look through the peephole but the knocking continued. Irritated, he flung open the door without caring if he was being robbed.

Instead of a threatening stranger invading his apartment, the skinny boy standing on his doorstep was a familiar face. Seiji Matoba was drenched, with arms wrapped around his shoulders, a pitiful sight indeed. Upon the sight of the open door, he pushed Shuuichi out of the way and made his way inside.

"Hey! What the heck? What do you think you're doing?" Shuuichi asked.

He slammed the door shut and locked it, then slammed the lights on. He followed the watery footsteps where Seiji stood in the middle of his home, looking around with an uninterested expression.

"Can I borrow your shower?" He asked.

"No! Why are you here? It's the middle of the night," Shuuichi complained.

He circled Seiji to try to catch his attention but Seiji looked away, avoiding his eyes. His clothes dripped water into small puddles on the floor.

"Why does it matter? You live alone, anyway. A little company won't hurt," Seiji said.

Shuuichi was sure it was an insult, meant to mock him that he had no friends or family. He huffed and crossed his arms, standing in front of Seiji. When his intimidation tactic didn't work, he noticed that Seiji was still hugging his arms and slightly fidgeting.

He must be cold. Shuuichi had no idea how long he'd been out in the rain. The Matoba estate was a long way from here, he couldn't have possibly walked all the way. Shuuichi glanced at his feet and his shoes and pants were all muddy, like he'd trekked through the forest.

In a sudden change of heart, Shuuichi scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes.

"The bathroom's on the left," he said.

The expression on Seiji's face didn't change. He kicked his shoes off and entered the bathroom without so much as a thank you. Shuuichi's skin crawled, something about his demeanor gave him chills. He'd never seen Seiji act like that.

He was always a bit strange, but usually he had a witty comeback ready to whatever Shuuichi said. Tonight he lacked his usual smirk he wore around him, too. Something must have happened.

Something that made him run through the forest at night just to knock at Shuuichi's door. Supposedly. Shuuichi didn't want to believe that was the case. In any case, Seiji owed him an explanation after he warmed up a bit.

Shuuichi ignored the anxious feeling in his chest and fetched a towel he handed to Seiji through the crack of the bathroom door. Again, he received no word of thanks.

He didn't know what to do while Seiji showered. He listened when he turned on the water but it became awkward when his mind created images of Seiji's naked body with the hot water running down his skin. Shuuichi escaped back into the living room and turned on the movie to drown out the sound with the TV.

He'd been immersed into it before, though he'd seen it a couple of times. He liked to pick apart the acting in different scenes but now his concentration was gone and his mind wandered while the actors continued on the screen.

Seiji took a long time in the shower. Shuuichi found himself getting sleepy and he closed his eyes, leaning into the couch. He dozed off for a while before jolting back awake, not knowing how much time had passed. He grabbed the remote to turn down the volume and noticed he couldn't hear the running water anymore.

For a couple of minutes he wondered if he should knock on the door and ask if everything was okay. His disoriented mind suggested that maybe he'd been alone the whole time and there wasn't anyone in the bathroom.

Matoba Seiji coming through his door in the middle of the night was a crazy thought. Surely he'd hallucinated the whole thing.

Yet his muddy shoes were still by the door. Shuuichi decided to get up to go check on him but when he approached the bathroom door, it opened from the inside.

Seiji had the towel around his waist. Water droplets glistened on his flushed skin, his eyelashes were dark when he looked at Shuuichi under them. Color was back on his pale face, and he didn't shiver anymore even with his hair clinging on his neck.

"My clothes are wet," he said and stared at Shuuichi expectantly.

Shuuichi groaned and led him to his bedroom. That was everything in his tiny apartment, three rooms. There was only basic furniture and not much else. A couple of cardboard boxes lay abandoned in the corner of the bedroom since the day he moved. It had been a few weeks.

He rummaged through his closet and pulled out a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and briefs.

"This doesn't mean you're staying," Shuuichi told him and dropped the clothes on the bed, then turned to leave the room.

"I didn't mean to," Seiji commented, sounding a little bit more like himself.

Shuuichi turned the movie back on to distract himself from the awkwardness of the situation. He didn't know what Seiji wanted, why he was here and how he was supposed to act. It wasn't like they were friends. They'd never visited each other's homes before. Having him here felt like a breach of his privacy, yet he was more bothered by an entirely different reason.

Having Seiji in his home was weirdly intimate. They were alone, stranded inside by the four walls against the rainstorm still raging. Seiji was putting on his clothes, and Shuuichi was vigorously trying not to think about the common association of that practice.

That was for people who were dating. They were not. In fact, maybe this was also a normal situation to be, if they were friends. Or so Shuuichi tried to tell himself.

He was staring at the screen without registering anything that happened in it when he caught a glimpse of Seiji out of the corner of his eye.

He had emerged from the bedroom, holding the hem of the shirt in front of him. Shuuichi's eyes were drawn towards his direction and suddenly his mouth was dry.

The shirt was too big on him, and the neckline teased a view of his delicate collarbones. When his gaze wandered down he was met with his bare legs, his thighs a milky white and plush.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. Seiji used the opportunity to close the distance between them and climbed on the couch with him.

"Um, wha-" Shuuichi said very eloquently when Seiji straddled his lap and sat down, putting his weight on him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Shuuichi asked, out of breath.

He refused to pay attention to how Seiji's crotch was pressed on top of his thighs when he grabbed his hands he tried to put on his shoulders.

"What does it look like?" Seiji shrugged.

Shuuichi's brain was unable to keep up with what was happening. This wasn't normal anymore! He tried to rationalize the situation he was in but couldn't come up with anything. Seiji tried to gently tug his hands free where Shuuichi was holding both of his wrists. When it didn't work, he used the leverage to roll his hips against Shuuichi, gaining a groan from him.

To his horror, Shuuichi realized Seiji wasn't wearing the briefs either. He couldn't help but glance down where the hem of the shirt barely covered him.

He was heavy, he was warm and he was very close. Shuuichi didn't know if he should push him off or not and while he was frozen in shock, Seiji snaked his hands out of his grasp.

"I thought you could use a little help," Seiji said and slipped his fingers inside Shuuichi's shirt, "since you can't seem to get a girlfriend."

"What- That's none of your business!" Shuuichi barked and grabbed the hand that was feeling him up.

"Get off me! I don't need your help! You're sick-" he growled and tried to push him off but Seiji clutched onto him.

"Tell yourself that! Then why's this guy up?" Seiji shouted and pressed his palm flat between Shuuichi's legs, sending a sensation like lightning straight to his head.

Shuuichi panted and gave up the fight, Seiji now even more on top of him. Seiji's fingers crunched up the fabric on his shoulder, his other hand still on his crotch, trying to circle his member through the fabric.

"Don't touch me," Shuuichi told him, anger rising in his chest.

"Then stop me," Seiji fired back and slipped his hand inside his sweatpants to grab him directly.

Shuuichi's hips jolted, rocking Seiji on top of him. The loose shirt shifted and Shuuichi stared at where the tip of Seiji's dick was caught up in the fabric, forming a tiny wet spot. He was standing erect as well and Shuuichi caught himself thinking how cute it was.

The reality of what was happening couldn't be denied anymore when Seiji pulled Shuuichi free from his pants and jerked closer to wrap his hands around both of them. His smooth skin against Shuuichi's private parts felt heavenly and he breathed in deep, basking in the pleasure.

He could've been able to keep his cool if that was everything. But paired with the sight in front of him and the lewd moans Seiji was letting out, Shuuichi was lit up in fire. He watched when Seiji closed his eyes, his lips parted when he moaned, and a shudder ran through his body from head to toe.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked, feeling how hot his head was becoming.

"I already told you," Seiji sighed.

He opened his eyes and his cheeks were flushed pink, he looked positively blissed out and only half crazy.

"Don't give me that crap," Shuuchi grunted.

There was no such thing as a Matoba doing something for someone else. He tried to rack his brain for any logical reason. Maybe Seiji wanted to humiliate him, maybe he was bullying him. Or maybe he was simply using him for his own enjoyment. The latter sounded rather outlandish, but it was all Shuuichi could think of.

"Shut up," Seiji snapped. "I do what I want. And don't you dare cum yet."

Shuuichi huffed but his argument got caught in his throat when suddenly Seiji leaned forward and landed his forehead on his shoulder. His wet hair smelled like Shuuichi's shampoo where it was pressed against the side of his face. He was about to complain when he realized what Seiji was doing.

He was bending his middle and twisting his arm to the back to finger himself.

His moans were muffled on Shuuichi's shirt who was too shocked to move. Blood rushed down to his lower region and he was rock hard, ready to come simply from watching. He'd never had such a violent reaction from the times he'd watched porn, no matter how attractive the actors were.

He felt like none of them held a candle to the eroticism of Seiji's spread thighs, the sound of his voice or the way he moved, so inciting, so bewitching. Many times Shuuichi had got hard from the thought of him, though he'd never admitted it to himself.

The sight in front of him was simply too much, when Seiji raised his head and looked at him with heavy eyes, the collar of the shirt giving away a sliver of flushed skin. In a rush of frenzy, Shuuichi snatched the fabric and pulled the shirt over his head.

Completely bare, Seiji sat back on Shuuichi's clothed thighs and stared at him, his chest heaving in anticipation. Shuuichi put his hands on those flawless legs and relished in the shiver he felt under his palms. He pushed them further open and let his eyes roam down that erotic body.

Seiji had narrow shoulders and a pretty body fit for a girl. He didn't need to work out because his strength didn't come from physicality. It was under his skin, coursing his veins, his spiritual power that far surpassed Shuuichi's and most of the exorcists' in the field.

It was hard to believe now, when he was laid bare under his hands and vulnerable. Shuuichi's gaze was a way of worshipping, when it lingered on a pair of perked nipples, a flat stomach and the cute dick leaning against it. Shuuichi wanted to swallow him whole, and in his lust he squeezed his thighs harder.

Seiji jerked and a moan slipped from his chest. His face was redder now, like he was getting off by Shuuichi's gaze on his body.

"Come here," he mewled a command meant to be teasing but failing miserably.

He grabbed the back of Shuuichi's neck and pulled himself up. Shuuichi's face was pressed against his chest when he rose to his knees and pulled closer. Seiji used his other hand to hold Shuuichi's dick in place while he bent his knees and lowered onto it.

"Wait, wait-!" Shuuichi muttered and tried to grab his wrist but Seiji had already caught the tip in his rim.

Shuuichi took his nipple in his mouth and bit down to get his attention and Seiji leaned away.

"Ouch- what?!" He snapped.

His thighs were trembling where they kept him up and his forehead was sweaty while he struggled to accommodate Shuuichi.

"You don't know what you're doing," Shuuichi accused and tried to lift him off his dick but Seiji sat down harder, gasping.

"I've done this before," he said between gritted teeth.

"With who?!" Shuuichi shouted, equal parts surprised and jealous.

Seiji slapped him across the face.

"Shut up! Let me do this!" He yelled before gasping for air, thrown off his rhythm.

Shuuichi could only try to support his waist and watch as he took him in, inch by inch in an agonizingly slow pace. The hot tightness embracing him felt mind-numbingly good, like his dick would explode. He felt the urge to jerk his hips and thrust into him but he kept still for Seiji's sake, whose jaw was tense and brows furrowed.

He grimaced when Seiji winced in pain, going too fast too soon.

"Stop this, you're hurting yourself," Shuuichi said.

He couldn't understand why he was doing this when he wasn't enjoying it. Seiji hung his head, his overgrown hair hiding his face.

"Shut up," he muttered, barely audible. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

His hands on Shuuichi's shoulders formed into fists, his shoulders shaking. Shuuichi was afraid to move, afraid to touch him, so he just sat there, his palms holding Seiji's waist over his hip bones.

Pushing past the pain and the discomfort, Seiji persevered for unknown reasons. It was hard to watch for Shuuichi and harder to handle the guilt that came with the amazing pleasure he was feeling. He wanted him to stop but at the same time his mind was begging him to continue.

Finally, after many grueling minutes, Seiji sat back and his legs gave in. He wobbled like he was going to fall and Shuuichi slid his hands upwards to hold him. He was still keeping his chin down and the heavy breaths he was taking in sounded more and more like sobs.

When he lifted his head, Shuuichi realized they were.

Seiji had his eyes closed when his hands dropped onto his lap and he let out a heart-wrenching wail. Tears streamed down his cheeks and fell down like the rain still pouring outside.

Shuuichi put his fingers around his wrists and held his hands so he wouldn't fall backwards. He was shocked beyond measure and at a loss for what to do or say. He didn't know what was going on, surely Seiji didn't feel so good he was crying? Was he in that much pain?

His own chest started feeling tight. Being overwhelmed with all the emotions sprung tears into his eyes as well until they toppled over, as embarrassing as it was. He felt so confused by everything and so utterly helpless. He couldn't even stop Seiji from hurting himself.

After a couple of seconds Seiji opened his eyes and blinked his teary lashes.

"What the hell are you crying for?" He started laughing with a raspy voice. "It's not like your father died!"

"I don't know, you were crying- wait, what did you say?" Shuuichi sobered up in an instant.

Seiji stared back at him with an emotionless face. His dark eyes looked lifeless, devoid of any light that might have touched the depths of them.

"You're not serious," Shuuichi whispered, but Seiji didn't react.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" A blind rage overtook Shuuichi and he screamed at him. "You should be with your family right now!"

"Then do it. Kick me out," Seiji said.

His voice was flat, like he didn't care.

"But I'm not going back there, that's for sure."

His dead stare made shivers run down Shuuichi's back. He looked weary beyond his years. At that moment, he was so small, so empty. Shuuichi could see the dark waters he was filled to the brim with, the responsibilities, the expectations he was forced to carry on his body. He wondered how he hadn't broken yet.

Then he realized. This, right now, was him breaking. Matoba Seiji, the most powerful of them all, was broken down into his arms.

His breath caught in his throat as he was drowned in a wave of emotions. He wanted to comfort Seiji, but knew there were no words that could be said. It was not his place nor his business at all, yet Seiji had come to him for relief. Seiji had chosen him of all people when he was struck down with his anguish, and Shuuichi couldn't comprehend why.

"Fuck me," Seiji whispered, his voice hoarse.

His plea was accompanied by an intense look of his dark eyes. Deep into them, something flashed in the darkness, like the tail of a shooting star. Shuuichi felt an electrifying current pass through him and he was filled with renewed lust.

His hands bruised the milky skin when he grabbed Seiji's thighs and lifted him off, tackling him into the couch. When he was on his back, breath knocked out of him and staring up at Shuuichi with wide eyes, Shuuichi dragged his own shirt over his head.

He'd started to go to gym after moving out and was proud of the results. The way Seiji's eyes lingered on his chest told him he noticed it, too. Seiji was snapped out of his trance when Shuuichi took a hold of his ankles and pushed his legs up and apart.

Shuuichi licked his lips watching his pretty little cock leaking pearly white between his legs and the pink of his puckered hole. He grabbed the small bottle of baby oil Seiji had used earlier to prepare himself and poured it on his palm.

He coated two fingers with the stuff and brought them down to push against Seiji's entrance. It was soft and they slid in easily, causing Seiji to gasp and curl his toes. Shuuichi put in a third finger and proceeded to tease him with them for a moment. He scissored them and pressed against his walls in search of the best reaction.

At the time he was done, Seiji was a writhing mess. He could barely keep his eyes open but Shuuichi was only getting started. If distraction was what Seiji needed, Shuuichi would fuck him until he couldn't think about anything else.

He pumped his fist around his cock, covering it in oil before lying down on top of Seiji and aligning his cock with his entrance. Seiji whined when he added pressure, forcing his walls to stretch open for him. He got the tip in before glancing at Seiji's face.

His eyes were half-lidded and fixed on Shuuichi, his gaze hungry and filled with unbridled lust. It was a better expression than the soulless stare, so Shuuichi counted it as a victory. He kept looking at him while he slowly thrusted in.

Seiji opened up for him beautifully, like a moonflower under the night sky, embracing all of him. He welcomed the unit inside of him like it could make him whole again, at least for a moment.

As he took in more and more, the louder he got, moaning and gasping without an ounce of shame. After a moment he was laughing, delirious with the fullness he was experiencing. Shuuichi watched him mildly concerned but at least he wasn't crying.

When he started to move, Seiji came apart under him. He laughed, he screamed, scratching his back and shoulders with his blunt nails. Shuuichi worried the neighbors would hear but he wasn't going to slow down. He drilled into Seiji with all he got, determined to make true of his promise to fuck him out of his mind.

"Shuuichi," Seiji moaned his name and pushed his face up to the crook of his neck.

Shuuichi felt he was going crazy with him, with the way he was reacting to his every move and how he was begging for more. Where their bodies were pressed together felt hot but so good, the skin-to-skin contact overloading his inexperienced brain. He didn't even know what he was doing, his hips were moving on instinct alone where he thrusted into him.

"Shuuichi, Shuuichi, Shuuichi," Seiji riled him up with his moans deliberately, panting against his neck.

He used his teeth to gnaw at his ear, then dug into his skin, causing Shuuichi to cry out.

"Watch it," he warned but Seiji only laughed, out of breath, and wrapped his arms tighter around his shoulders.

He hid his face against Shuuichi's throat and Shuuichi could feel his lips pressed on his skin. He stopped, confused, his heart beating in his chest like it was about to burst. Underneath him, Seiji's body went stiff and he arched his back to push into Shuuichi, his moaning coming to a halt.

It took a couple of seconds for Shuuichi to realize what was happening. Seiji collapsed on the couch, his limbs twitching. Shuuichi stared at his relaxed face, his hair's a mess and sticking to his forehead. His parted lips were cherry red and glistening, truly irresistible.

He watched when Seiji reached down over the mess he'd made on top of himself to where they were connected. His fingertips circled his stretched rim and a lazy smile rose to his lips. Shuuichi realized he didn't have a condom on and he pulled out in a panic before he was going to finish inside.

Seiji, thoroughly fucked and limp, with a satisfactory grin on his face was a sight no man could withstand and Shuuichi ended up coming all over him, adding to the stickiness on his stomach and chest. Seiji flinched and closed his eyes, then blinked them open again after it was done.

They stared at each other in silence, Shuuichi on his knees over him. Underneath him, Seiji relaxed and let out a contented sigh. He was looking so cute that Shuuichi's face became hot again just witnessing it. He thought he looked even better like this, his tummy covered in cum, his dick soft and spent, body language open and inviting.

To his horror, Shuuichi experienced a flurry of desires flashing through his mind, all about kissing him and taking care of him. He wanted to carry him to a bath, to kiss along his limbs and his face, to take his soft dick into his mouth and suck him clean.

It was definitely not normal and not something he could do. They weren't at that stage, they weren't at any stage, they barely knew each other. Flustered, Shuuichi stood up and escaped to the bathroom. He ran a towel under the faucet and wiped himself off quickly, then grabbed the towel Seiji had used and brought it to him.

"Wash up," he grunted, avoiding looking at him anymore.

Seiji sat up and took the towel, then headed to the bathroom while Shuuichi turned off the TV and looked for spare sheets. He threw them on the sofa for a makeshift bed and shut himself in the bedroom to think about what had just transpired.

It was late now and Shuuichi wasn't in the mood to think anymore, so he decided to avoid reality and go to bed. When he threw the covers over himself he could hear the running water in the bathroom and cursed.

His apartment was small enough he could hear everything. How the water stopped and the bathroom door opened. His heart in his throat he listened to Seiji's light footsteps going to the living room. Then they turned and the bedroom door opened, allowing a dim light to enter.

Seiji closed the door after him and Shuuichi pretended to be asleep when he circled the bed and lifted the covers.

He wanted to yell at him to get out, he really wanted to. But when he thought about the trauma Seiji was going through he just couldn't do it. Nonchalantly, Shuuichi rolled onto his back to give him room, though it wasn't much on a single bed.

Seiji had put on the t-shirt and briefs, saving some of Shuuichi's peace of mind but it was still nerve-wracking to feel him fumble around before he snuggled close to his chest.

There was a need to talk about what they've done, but Shuuichi couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't say anything, his mind racing his heart in the quiet room. He was aware Seiji was able to hear his beating pulse where he'd put his head but he couldn't do anything about it. He would just awkwardly pretend to be sleeping until they wouldn't have to talk anymore.

Seiji fell asleep first. It was easy for him to close his eyes and drift off like there were no worries in the world. Shuuichi suspected he was more exhausted than he'd let on, because he slept heavy like a rock, an arm thrown across Shuuichi's middle.

Slowly, Shuuichi's heart calmed down. He moved his arm carefully to not disrupt Seiji's sleep and put his hand on top of his still damp head. He wondered what was going on in that head of his, what was his thought process like.

He recalled the time his mother had died, but he was so small he couldn't remember much. Only that the person he'd always counted on for protection and affection was no longer there. What was left was a feeling of being abandoned, left alone in the world.

Seiji shouldn't have that problem, Shuuichi thought. Unlike him, Seiji had a whole clan to look after him. They were probably worried about him right now, too, and looking for him. Then how had Seiji managed to slip out of there in the first place?

Shuuichi realized he knew nothing about the person sleeping in his bed.

When he woke up in the morning, Seiji was gone. He'd left behind only dirty laundry, sand on the floor and dozens of unanswered questions weighing down Shuuichi's mind.

The official news about the Matoba clan head's death only came after a few days. There was a rumor in the exorcism circles that said it was a violent incident with the one-eyed yookai that had cursed the family.

The next time Shuuichi saw Seiji was in the annual gathering, where the clan introduced their new leader. The youngest in centuries, Seiji wore the black robes of an exorcist, carrying a paper umbrella to ward off spirits.

Covering his right eye was a paper spell, a sign of the curse. Along with the responsibilities of the clan head, he'd inherited the curse that haunted their leaders and cost his father his life.

Later, Shuuichi realized Seiji had known about his fate years beforehand. He must have prayed his father lived as long as he could, only to be crushed by the sudden departing. He not only lost his father in one night, he lost his freedom, his childhood and his innocence. Shuuichi shuddered at the sight of the eyepatch covering his beautiful face, the cold stare of his remaining eye and the soulless smile of the new clan head.

For years, Shuuichi was haunted with regret of that night. He wished he would have talked to Seiji instead of going along with him. He wished he would've done something for him, to comfort him.

Dreams where he kissed him and caressed his skin continued night after night, no matter how Shuuichi tried to repress them.

In the end, he guessed, Matobas always got what they wanted. There was nothing Shuuichi could have done to change anything. He couldn't change one's fate, to fight against family traditions or centuries-old yookais. He couldn't push his affections to Seiji if it wasn't reprociated, and now that they were both adults it was too late.

After that night they never spoke about what had happened. Whenever they saw each other by chance, they walked by without a word or a glance. They weren't Seiji and Shuuichi anymore, but only the representatives of their families. Natori, a nobody in the exorcism circles with his humble background and Matoba, the head of the most powerful family in the scene.

They had very little in common, so there was no need to pretend they were acquaintances.

Yet the memory of that night burned inside Shuuichi, never fading away. He wondered if anyone could ever invoke the same kind of feelings in him. At day, Matoba Seiji was a stranger to him, but at night, he would pour out the yearning in his heart, never to be satisfied.