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Handcuffs

Summary:

Pro tip: don't bring handcuffs into the bedroom if one or both of you might have a negative association with them....

Notes:

This story definitely gets intense. Trigger warnings for suicidal ideation and attempt, a small reference to vomit, and general bad times with flashbacks and dissociation and trauma. Just be kind to yourselves!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

They thought it would be fine.

Over a year since their relationship had turned physical, many months spent exploring one another’s bodies and minds, figuring out what each liked, their kinks, their fantasies. Pushing boundaries. True, communication in general was difficult for both of them, but they were getting better at it, knowing when to stop, knowing when to adjust expectations, knowing when to back off, knowing when to apologize. Knowing when to speak their heart’s truth. 

Goro was an absolute fool at the best of times. He was even more of a fool during times like these, when most of the blood had been pulled south, far from his brain. Times when he gives in to the control of dopamine and oxytocin and those familiar pheromones of Ren’s that just went straight to his dick and kept him enthralled and kept him from accessing any semblance of common fucking sense.

Ren and Goro approached their intimate moments much like they did their games of pool and their battles of wits, never able to turn off their rivalry. There was always that one-upsmanship, that feral desire to outplay the other, to catch the other off guard, to step away triumphant at wiping that self-assured smirk off the other’s face, no matter what it was replaced with - wonderment, disbelief, annoyance, desire. To Goro, anything that broke that iron composure of Ren’s was a victory, doubly so if it caused the other to moan and buck and lose himself to the heat and throes of pleasure.

And this drive to show his partner up once more and crack that stoic facade was what had compelled Goro to do this. To escalate their recent explorations of light bondage play from silk scarves and blindfolds to something a little more intense, to really throw Ren for a loop. Before they could even get all their clothes off, without much warning, he had wrestled Ren facedown to the floor, sitting on his legs, pausing just for a moment to enjoy the view, before pulling a pair of metal handcuffs from under the bed and slapping them onto Ren’s delicate wrists behind his back.

The moment the second clasp clicked shut, the very air molecules of the room seemed to freeze. Ren stopped writhing, going so still beneath him that Goro wasn’t sure the boy was even breathing. All lustful thoughts melted away, and Goro leaned over, gripping one of Ren’s hands gently while gently, lovingly, sweeping his bangs from his face with the other. “Ren…?” he asked softly. 

Ren didn’t respond. He didn’t look at him sideways with a scowl, didn’t furrow his brow, didn’t react at all. His face was sickly pale, his eyes staring vacantly into the carpeting. Goro felt his skin crawl, panic beginning to form. 

Sure, they had established a safeword when they first began playing around with scarves and ropes, but they also were both aware that Ren sometimes lost his ability to speak, a kind of selective muteness that liked to rear its head at inopportune times. They had known this and had prepared for such a situation, establishing a backup check-in system, a periodic pausing of the scene to make sure all was still well before falling back into it. So far, the system had worked well enough. 

Goro leaned over the other boy, bringing his head to the floor as though to try and meet Ren’s gaze. 

“Ren,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice as soft but as serious as possible. “Is this a red light?”

He waited for Ren to respond, verbally or nonverbally. That was the rule. If asked if it was a red light, he had to shake his head to indicate he didn’t want to stop, otherwise consent was immediately pulled and the scenario put on pause to adjust the situation, or to end proceedings entirely. So far, they had never had to stop entirely.

Ren didn’t seem to even hear him, didn’t seem to even comprehend he was there. Those gray eyes were still staring at nothing, wide and unblinking. And then, Goro realized that he could feel Ren trembling where their bodies touched.

“Fuck!” he hissed, pushing himself to his feet. Now that all the blood was rushing back to his brain from his quickly flagging hard-on, his useless brain began to remind him, in vivid fucking detail why something like real goddamned handcuffs would be a no-go when it came to Ren Amamiya. Goro felt his own hands shaking as staggered over to his nightstand, digging through the drawers for his damn keys, then crawled back to Ren’s side. He silently berated himself mentally as his own shaking hands fumbled to grasp the tiny key, then twisting it in the lock of first one cuff, then the other, freeing the boy’s hands. Goro threw the cuffs away from them like they were venomous, then bent back over Ren, trying to make his movements and touches clear and gentle, to telegraph his motions so he wouldn’t startle the other. “Ren, I’m sorry, we should have talked about it, I–”

Goro’s hand had closed around Ren’s upper arm, and Ren suddenly yelped and snapped away from him, as though Goro’s touch was electrified. The boy scrambled across the floor backwards until he hit the wall, eyes wide and glazed over, face pale white. He held his arms up in front of him, as though to protect himself from…

Goro just watched numbly where he was still kneeling, unable to move, unsure what to do. He could feel the static building in his own mind, recognizing it as the telltale start of his own slide into a trauma response. He forced his breath to remain steady, pressed his hands down into the low pile carpeting of their apartment, trying to ground himself in the room.

“Ren…” Goro tried, his voice sticking in his throat. He forced his body forward, moving toward Ren like one would approach an injured animal. Like one wrong move would cause him to bolt. Goro reached a hand out, ignoring the icy fog encroaching his own mind, ignoring the tremble in his limbs. He had to do something, he had to help Ren, had to pull him out of this flashback nightmare he had caused. “Ren, it’s okay, you’re not–  you’re not in the interrogation room, you’re not trapped. Nothing is going to hurt you. You’re safe, it’s just me here–”

He lay a hand on his hair, so gentle, so careful. “Ren…” he whispered. “Please.”

Ren lifted his head up suddenly, as though startled by him, as though he had no idea he was even there. For a split moment, their eyes met, recognition sparking in those gray depths, and Goro briefly wondered if he’d gotten through to him.

That was, until Ren screamed. Or tried to, his voice a hoarse, strained croak as he kicked Goro square in the chest, sending him over onto his ass well out of reach.

And Goro just sat, staring numbly as Ren shook his head at him, looking so panicked, so scared. He was gripping his hair so hard it looked painful, stammering to himself in shaky breaths “No, no no. I– I fucked it up… I didn't… the phone, I–” A sob, before curling back up in a ball. “Please Akechi… don’t….”

And Goro felt all sensation leave his body and mind as he realized this is likely what he would have seen that day, if he had entered the interrogation room in the real world rather than the Metaverse.

Bile surged and he couldn’t stop the vomit from ripping through his throat as his mind viscerally recalled the kickback of the gun, the heaviness of a body hitting the table, the blood pouring down Ren’s ghost-white face. He didn’t have a chance to run to the garbage can, his stomach emptying right there on the ground next to him.

Fuck… fuck! He didn’t need that broken scream added to the nightmares, didn’t need to picture the boy he now loved begging for his life…

He could feel his mind starting to slip, his own flashback clawing to grab hold. He fought it, desperately. He couldn’t go out of commission right now. Not now. Not yet. Not while Ren needed help…

He had to do something.

He forced himself to his feet, still coughing up the last remnants of his stomach that had caught in his throat. The world felt unreal as he stumbled to his dresser and snatched his phone from the charger.

Ren needed someone. Someone Goro trusted, that Ren trusted. Because Goro couldn’t… he wasn’t…

God how could he fuck this up so badly…?

A familiar profile pic with bleached yellow hair stood out among a sea of default gray blobs in Goro’s contact list, despite the fact Ryuji Sakamoto had long let his hair return to its natural brown. Goro stared at it, his stomach roiling. Ryuji was the safest option – he lived the closest, he was likely to still be awake, he would be more concerned with helping his best friend than demanding embarrassing answers. Another wave of bile threatened him, but he pushed it down as he pressed the dial button.

It took a second for the call to connect to the network, and he held a hand to his mouth, sinking to the ground beside the bed as he listened to the anachronistic ringing. Invisible claws dug into his head, trying to pull him down as he waited. Please pick up. Please, Sakamoto. I don’t think there’s time to call anyone else…

A click. 

“Uh, hey, Akechi. What’s up?”

He could hear immediate uncertainty in Sakamoto’s familiar voice. Even after years of friendship the other was surprised to see his call, because Goro Akechi doesn’t tend to call people without a damn good reason. He usually just lets Ren take care of interacting with the other Phantom Thieves, he was so much better at it than him. 

So getting a call at 10pm at night from Goro Akechi, Sakamoto had to know immediately that something was wrong.

“Please tell me you’re not busy,” Goro managed, his voice rough and panicked in his own ears.

“Uh, not super busy. Just hanging out at the diner with Ann. Is… is something wrong?”

A harsh breath left him that sounded too much like a sob for his own ears. “I– Ren. Ren needs you. Needs your help.” Goro said wetly, his emotions beginning to press down as the full gravity of fucking everything began to drown him. “He’s having a flashback and I can’t… I’m the last fucking person who can do anything… I don’t know what the fuck to do!”

“Woah, woah, Akechi. Slow down. Breathe.” Goro gritted his teeth in response, pressing his free hand to his eyes. He really wanted to scream. He wanted to fight. He wanted to slap Sakamoto across his damn face. He wasn’t the one who needed consoling right now, he didn’t deserve a damn bit of concern from anyone, not after this, not after everything he’s done. 

But he couldn’t speak, allowing Ryuji to continue “Is Ren with you right now? What happened?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I– My place, I-I can’t– he’s having a panic attack, a flashback, and I can’t do anything–” 

Ryuji responded again, but his voice seemed much farther away than it should, considering the phone was still pressed to Goro’s ear. “Okay. Okay, just let us pay our check really quick. We will be there in ten minutes if we get the next train… Is it okay if Ann–?”

“Yes… please… Anyone. Anything.” Goro couldn’t even care that he was basically begging Sakamoto right now. He felt the familiar sensation of his brain floating in his skull, one of the many signs that he was about to untether from reality, become lost to the memories and the trauma with nothing to tie him down. Only Ren has ever been able to tie him down….

…the screams of shadows before dissipating…

…Ren’s terrified eyes looking up at him, meeting his gaze over the sightline on the barrel of his handgun….

…that familiar emptiness he’d felt as he held the muzzle against the smooth skin of Ren’s forehead, between locks of disheveled hair.

Far away, he noted a voice talking again.

“...kay…’re on our way…ust hang…reathe….ay?...”

And the voice was gone. His phone was gone from his hand. His bedroom was gone. Goro leaned over his knees, gripping onto his hair in shaking hands and gasping for air.

It was happening again. As real as when it first happened. The smell of the precinct basement. The recoil of the gun. The taste of spent gunpowder in the air. The exact shape and pattern of brain matter splattered against the far wall. The puddle of blood that streamed down from the gaping hole in Ren’s forehead, between his eyes in two distinct rivulets, down past his nose, over his soft lips. Brain matter slapping against the wall like a Jackson Pollock painting. He got to watch again the exact moment that brilliant light extinguished from those pewter eyes. Felt more than heard Ren’s head hit the table with a weight that seemed impossible. Goro could only watch, again, as he had so many times before, just watch helplessly as the blood pooled on the metal surface, until it crested the edge of the table and began dripping to the floor. He reached out to touch Ren’s neck with two gloved fingers, and felt no pulse. He could still feel the warmth of his skin through his gloves. The boy had been alive less than a moment ago, and now he wasn’t.

Ren Amamiya was dead. Dead, and he killed him.

He suddenly felt nothing.

Felt nothing as he placed the guard’s gun in Ren’s lifeless hand, setting the scene for the fabricated murder-suicide that would exonerate Goro and Shido. Felt nothing as he casually walked away from the body, out of that room. Felt nothing as he called Shido from the elevator to let him know of his success with no indication he was anything other than the soulless professional he claimed to be. He felt nothing, just numb and empty until he got far enough away from the police station, where he stumbled into an alleyway.

It was there he collapsed, puking behind some dumpsters, curling in a ball hyperventilating. He set his attache case down with trembling hands and opened it, pushing aside the false bottom, and pulling out his own illegal handgun. 

He felt that gun in his hand, heavy and lethal. He’d sat there in that dirty alley for hours, staring at it. Had bathed in the desire to twist his wrist and press the muzzle to his own chin. To pull the trigger. Imagined the headlines, Detective Prince found dead in back alley from apparent suicide.

Somewhere in the far far back of his mind, he knew none of this was happening. It was in the past. Most of it hadn’t actually happened, had been a trick of the Metaverse, of the Phantom Thieves. But his conscious mind didn’t believe it. It was too real. He couldn’t grasp much else in his hazy brain, he just knew one thing for certain - he wanted to die. He needed to die. He deserved to die. He just had to wait for Shido to die, so then he could die too with no regrets… so all of this pain and suffering could finally be worth it…

…no… that couldn’t happen either…

Shido wasn’t going to die. He was in jail, he knew everything. Goro had never had a chance, it had all been a fool’s errand… 

You don’t want to die, Goro.

A familiar voice was circling him in the edge of his consciousness – Loki or Robin Hood, maybe. Some facet of his resolve, trying to break through and pull him back from this edge he knew so well.

And, objectively he knew this. Objectively, he knew all of this was in the past. That Ren Amamiya was not just alive, but very dear to him, loved him, forgave him. He knew that he wasn’t curled up around his gun in an alley, wishing for death after murdering his only friend, but instead somewhere safe and warm and there was something thumping hard somewhere in the distance and he needed to snap out of this because he needed to do something, he had to do… a thing… because someone… he had to.... but he couldn’t string his thoughts together, his racing heart and heaving breaths and the roaring in his ears and his urgent need to just die now was too strong to let him think or do anything else.

He deserved this. He deserved to feel this way.

He just wanted to die… it’s been so long since he’s felt like this… how could he ever have forgotten just how much he wanted it…? How much he just wanted the world to stop…

… there was a gun here, in a locked case in his closet… that he used for work… it would be so easy… it would be so easy…

…Ren didn’t deserve to deal with someone like him… he didn’t… he would always fuck things up… he was a murderer… he had caused so much pain…

He could still see Ren in his mind’s eye, looking at him like the horrific monster he has always been. Could still hear the strangled scream as the one most dear to him realized that his plan had failed and he was going to die. That Goro was going to kill him.

Kill yourself instead, just die, you just want to die….

No one will even notice… they’ll be happy about it… they will celebrate it…

Please, please stop this, please make this stop… Ren, please… help me…

Hands grabbed him, and he startled. Fight or flight kicking in, and he was wrenching himself out of their grasp and making a run for it. Out the door, down the stairs. Panicked, lost, desperate. What’s even the point of running? What’s even the point of not getting caught? To bring Shido to justice? It can’t happen now, Shido knew everything, that he was a traitor. Everything you have ever worked towards was a fucking lie… there’s no point…

You shot him dead in the face, and for what?

Bright lights flashed around him in the dark as he sprinted as fast as his bare feet could take him. Running. Escaping. Someone was chasing him, shouting at him. Run, just run, get out, spare everyone the burden of your mistakes, spare everyone your fucking existence, you bastard child.

How could anyone care about a terrible child like you, Goro?

He found himself tripping up over something in the sidewalk, coming to a staggered halt. He lifted his head to see a pair of large oncoming headlights. A large container truck, approaching the intersection he was standing next to.

Just do it.

No time for second guessing. He stepped out into the street, facing those lights. Horns blared; the truck didn’t have enough room to stop. Time slowed to a terrible crawl as he watched those headlines grow closer, one thought breaking through the static consuming his mind and limbs.

He was going to die. 

His scattered brain suddenly became crystal clear. He could count exactly how many LEDs were in each headlight as the semi truck grew closer, could calculate exactly what velocity the truck would hit him with if the driver applied his brakes the moment Goro’s bare feet had entered the road. He could picture, with horrific certainty, how far down the street his body would be dragged, how much blood would coat the ground.

He’d seen pictures of Wakaba Isshiki after…. Until that point, he had had no idea the human body could even hold that much blood.

He knew he was about to die. Just like Wakaba had. Like Principal Kobayakawa had. An eye for an eye, of sorts. Except it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Nothing could ever undo the terrible things he’s done.

The headlights were getting closer.

He thought of Ren.

He thought of how Ren had saved him, more than once. Had helped him see, even believe, that he could keep living. That he could atone for what he’d done. Could make peace with it. Could work instead to prevent further suffering.

That he was worthy of love.

He thought of those patient gray eyes, often with a spark of mischief, always looking at him with such love and affection, and knowing he didn’t deserve it, but allowing himself to accept it anyway.

Goro remembered the agony he felt when he found his mother’s body… how it felt like a piece of his soul was wrenched violently away from him and he would never get it back.

… he did not want to do that to him… he couldn’t do that to him…

And he suddenly knew, all the way to the deepest parts of his soul, that this was his last terrible, unforgivable mistake. That he did not want to die, but it was too fucking late.

He braced himself in anticipation of 32,000 kg of fiberglass and steel slamming into his fragile human body, tearing him apart, splattering his life across the pavement. He expected to feel unimaginable pain, for maybe just his last fleeting moment of awareness, before never having to feel anything again. 

But instead of being slammed by the grill of the truck, something barrelled into his side, sending him hurtling sideways, landing hard and tumbling across the asphalt in a way that caused something in his arm to snap. He screamed, even as hands, multiple sets of hands, grabbed him and dragged him, pulling him out of the road to the sidewalk, shouting voices overlaying each other into unintelligible chaos.

His brain struggled to make sense of what was happening. Where was the truck? Why wasn’t he just a flattened corpse in the road? Voices shouted around him as he found himself numbly blinking at the sidewalk, a weight on his back. One strong arm pressed against his shoulder blades and full body weight settled on his legs, pinning him to the ground. A familiar voice cracked as it demanded someone call a fucking ambulance. Tears blurred his vision, cold on Goro’s cheeks as he stared out at the world sideways from the ground, from the sidewalk. 

He was still breathing.

Holy shit, he was alive…

“What the fuck, Akechi?! What the fuck?!” 

Ryuji Sakamoto’s voice was shouting right next to his ear, the weight on top of him pressing down into him even harder, as though sure Goro was going to fight him and try to run again. Ryuji’s voice was shaking, so were the arms that were pressing him into the ground. The track star sounded out of breath, but surely not from the exertion of running, he had too much training for that. Panic wrapped itself over every syllable of his wavering voice. “You almost got fucking killed, you asshole! You almost… you almost fucking killed yourself…” Ryuji’s voice trailed off, as though realizing exactly what had just happened. “...holy shit, dude….”

All the emotions that Goro should have been feeling through the whole last half hour suddenly became horribly, unquestionably present and real. He was suddenly drowning in them, sobbing before he realized, loud, broken, unrestrained. He didn’t have the energy to feel self-conscious about the people standing around them. He felt nothing but the despair of what just happened wrapping around him like a boa constrictor, threatening to pull him under.

“Holy shit…. I…Akechi…” Ryuji’s voice was softer now. A hand brushed hair from his face, and then the weight holding him down shifted, until he was being held down more by a hug than anything else, a firm but shaking arm wrapped around his shoulder and sternum, another snaking under the armpit of his injured arm and around his ribs. Still tight enough to keep him from running, but also to try and comfort. Ryuji rested his cheek against Goro’s temple, softly muttering over and over, “It’s going to be okay, man. We’re going to get you help… it’s going to be okay…” As though he were trying to convince himself of it too.

And Goro wanted to say something. That he was sorry. That he didn’t mean for this to happen. That he was so fucking glad Sakamoto hadn’t taken the force of the truck in his place like Sumire’s sister had for her. He wanted to reassure Ryuji that he didn’t want to die, he wanted to tell him to let Ren know he didn’t want to die. But the world was spinning too much, and his brain had turned to static, and his arm fucking hurt, and he didn’t know how to make his voice work anymore. 

The world slowly slipped into some kind of strange limbo, where he was aware of his pain, aware of how the slightest jostle caused it to surge through his arm before ebbing away again, aware that there were voices and flashing bright lights, but he couldn’t interact with the world at all anymore. He was being pulled upright, laid out onto a padded surface. A hand gripped his uninjured one and squeezed. Blurred faces swirled overhead.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked at one of the blurs, before hands placed a breathing mask over his face. And then finally, the static void that had been threatening him for so long now finally swallowed him whole. The last thing he wondered to himself before his inner monologue went blissfully silent was how did everything go so bad so quickly….?


It was Ann’s voice that finally pulled Ren back. 

It was the first thing that broke through the weird panicked dissociation bubble he found himself floating in. He just listened to the words, letting them cycle around him over and over, as slowly their meaning finally began to take shape and push away the panic and fear.

“....two years since it happened. The charges were dropped. Shido was arrested and convicted. You are safe now. It’s August 10th. We’re sitting in Goro’s apartment, safe and sound. Nothing will hurt you here. Just focus on the sound of my voice, on the feel of my hand on your back, on the floor underneath you….”

He listened, and slowly became aware of her hand, and the floor, and the feeling of him leaning against her, his face pressed to the crook of her neck, her chin resting on the crown of his head. He blinked, and felt the familiar ants-under-the-skin feeling of his traumatic response slowly receding away and leaving in its wake utter exhaustion. He relaxed the tension from his shoulders, blinking the bleariness from his waterlogged eyes. As he slowly felt firmly grounded, he frowned.

“What the fuck happened…?” he croaked. He tried to access his most recent memories, but the attempt made him feel unmoored again, and he closed his eyes.

“I don’t know…” Ann said softly. “Ryuji got a call from Goro tonight… something clearly happened but…” Ann tightened her grip around him. “I don’t know what caused it, but it was clear you were having a really strong flashback to the interrogation room. And Goro couldn’t get through to you… because, well…”

Ren felt his insides sink into the earth, and he closed his eyes.

“Because he played such a huge role in what happened…” he murmured quietly.

Ann nodded. “That’s my guess, anyway.”

Ren groaned, lifting a hand to rub his face, feeling the wetness from tears and snot. Attractive. He looked around the room. “Where is he…?” he asked softly, frowning deeply as something like dread began curling around his ribs.

“I think he had a flashback triggered too. He ran when we got here. Ryuji went after him.”

Ren sighed heavily, feeling all his exhaustion in every fiber of his being. He leaned more of his weight into her, closing his eyes. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we…?” he grumbled. “Futaba calls us a disaster couple.”

“You are,” Ann agreed. 

“I just…” Ren sat himself up and looked around. “I haven’t had a reaction that visceral in… years… What the hell set it off…? Why did…?”

And then he noticed a pair of handcuffs thrown haphazardly on the floor between discarded articles of clothing, and he froze. Ann followed his gaze, and her spine stiffened and eyes widened.

“Oh,” she said softly.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” he muttered, looking away from them before his mind swept back into the void once more.

“Did you two not, yknow, discuss those kinds of boundaries…?”

“We’ve, um,” He felt his face beginning to burn hot with something like embarrassment. “We’ve been exploring some bondage… and we had actually talked about handcuffs, after Akechi started his work with Shadow Ops and was given a pair. But I didn’t know that I… that I would have such a negative reaction to it… especially without any chance to mentally prepare.”

Ann sighed. Ren rubbed his nose and sniffled. He felt like shit. “Where’d he and Ryuji go?”

“Akechi definitely wasn’t all there when we got here. He panicked and made a run for it, maybe ten minutes ago. Ryuji chased after him.” Ann looked down at her phone with a deep frown. “ Ryuji should’ve been able to chase him down, hopefully they’re just–”

As though summoned, her phone began to chime melodically, Ryuji’s photo appearing on-screen. They exchanged a look before Ann swiped to answer the call and hit speakerphone. “Hey Ryuji. Did you catch him?” she asked.

“Hey Ann… How’s Ren?” Ryuji asked as though not hearing her question. Ren felt himself stiffen, something in Ryuji’s tone suddenly giving him a terrible feeling.

“I’m… better,” Ren spoke up, leaning closer to the phone. He steeled himself, making his voice as serious as possible. “Where’s Goro, Ryuji?”

A nervous laugh. A strained “fuck” carried over the phone. Both from Ryuji. Panic grabbed hold and Ren snapped a hand out, snatching Ann’s hand to pull the phone closer to his face. “Ryuji, where is he?”

“Look, Ren, don’t freak out, okay?” Ryuji quickly stammered, which of course was only something people say if there was reason to freak out. “But, um, w-we’re heading to the hospital.”

“What?!” Ann’s reaction was able to work enough for both of them. Ren felt himself freezing up in horror, his heart in his throat as Ann took her phone back from him. “Ryuji, what the fuck happened?!”

“H-he fucking just ran right out into traffic! Just, just stood there and nearly got hit by a goddamn truck. I– if I hadn’t…” Ryuji’s voice broke, his breath crackling in the receiver. “Almost got us both killed… I managed to tackle him out of the way, pretty sure his arm’s broken. But guys, I–” There was a long tense pause. “I’m… It really looked like an attempt, you guys…”

An attempt.

The word suicide firmly implied.

There wasn’t enough air in the room. Ren couldn’t breathe.

“No way… You’ve gotta be shitting me…” Ann’s voice was barely above a whisper, free hand clasping to her mouth. No doubt thinking about Shiho.

Ren was aware of himself shaking his head, all sensation leaving his body. Just his heart beat in his chest the only thing reminding him he was alive. Ann’s hand grabbed hold of his arm, shaking fiercely. He reached out in turn, clutching to her as though terrified one of them would be pulled away by the tide if they didn’t.

Goro, no….

“I don’t know for sure,” Ryuji whispered. “Maybe he just didn’t notice the truck and froze like a deer in the headlights but…” A sigh. “I just, I don’t know… he’s completely out of it right now.”

Ann was gripping Ren’s arm so tight it was starting to hurt. All he could see in his head was that video they’d watched in Maruki’s palace, the horrific replay of Sumire’s sister dying to save her. The splatter of her blood on the roadway. Sumire’s screams of loss.

Somehow, his own voice appeared, disconnected from the rest of him. “Are you okay, Ryuji?”

Another nervous laugh. “I mean, physically, yeah, ‘m fine. A little scuffed up, nothing a band-aid can’t fix… Just… just shaken up, yknow…?”

Some voices in the background on Ryuji’s side came through garbled and impossible to parse. Ryuji’s voice was muffled for a moment, and then returned clear. “Gotta go. I’ll go with him in the ambulance. They say we’ll be at Central General in bout ten minutes.”

“Okay. We’ll meet you over there soon.” Ann said softly, looking at Ren who nodded in agreement.

“K. See ya.”

The call ended, leaving the room unbearably quiet. Ren was faintly aware of how hard his heart was beating, how tightly Ann was grasping his hand, how the room smelled of vomit. How he was still only wearing boxers and a t-shirt.

“Ren…” 

“Don’t,” he rasped. He pulled his arm from her grasp and forced himself to his feet, ignoring how he wavered, his legs feeling like gelatin. “I need to get dressed, I have to–”

The world spun. He staggered, Ann quickly moving to catch him before he fell over. She guided him to kneel on the ground, her voice sounding like it was miles away again, reaching him through static and wind.

“Woah, woah, hey. Breathe. Deep breaths, Ren. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He slowly grew aware of her hand rubbing over his back as he curled into a child’s pose on the floor. He fought to breathe, each lungful feeling like a chore. Tears burned in his eyes and he realized he was shaking. Ann just curled over him, a warm grounding presence around him. “He’s alive, Ren. He’s in safe hands and not going anywhere. You can take ten, fifteen minutes to get your head back in one piece. Just breathe with me, yeah?”

“This is so fucked,” he croaked, pressing his forehead into the floor.

“I know. I know.” She continued to rub his back, softly coaching him through long breaths, counting each inhale and exhale for him. When it was clear he’d finally settled down enough, she squeezed his shoulder. “Why don’t you go take a shower, I’ll clean up in here, and then we’ll head on over, okay?”

Ren winced, still horribly aware of the smell of vomit. “You don’t have to…”

“There are worse reasons to clean up puke from a friend’s room. You guys can return the favor next time I’ve had a few too many martinis.”

A humorless laugh huffed out of him as she helped him to his feet and to the bathroom. There were times he didn’t feel deserving of his friends and this was one of them. 

One of the world’s fastest showers and a quick cab ride Anne insisted on paying for had them walking through the Emergency department doors of Central General Hospital. They were quickly able to spot Ryuji sitting in the waiting room, leaning over with his elbows braced on his knees and his head hanging, until he noticed their footsteps and leapt to his feet.

“Glad you’re okay Ryuji,” Ann said with a rough voice, pulling the shorter man into a quick hug that he melted into easily.

“Me too…” Ryuji said stiffly. He pulled himself out of Ann’s arms and looked sullenly at Ren. “They took him back to set his arm. Not sure if they’re going to try and keep him or not.”

Ren closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hoped with everything he had that they didn’t try. He didn’t think Goro could handle being locked up in any capacity, for any reason, after everything he’s been through.

…he hadn’t really tried to… had he…?

They waited another twenty minutes in relative silence, Ryuji absentmindedly chewing on his nails, Ann mindlessly scrolling through her social media, and Ren unable to stop fidgeting in nervous anticipation. When a nurse appeared calling for the “Friends of Goro Akechi?” he practically knocked his chair over in his haste to get to his feet and get moving. 

“Want us to go with you?” Ann asked, getting to her own feet. Ryuji looked constipated at the thought, still sitting in his chair with eyes darting around nervously. It was no secret to any of them that he hated hospitals after what Kamoshida put him through.

“You don’t have to. He and I need to talk anyway.” Not that he looked forward to such a conversation, but he needed to see that Goro was alive and okay. 

Ann gave him a wan smile, squeezed his shoulder. “Then we’ll head out. Call me later, k?”

The walk into the bowels of the hospital felt long, when logically it was barely two minutes. When the nurse led him past the line of curtains to one in particular and ushered him through, Ren finally felt like he could take a breath for the first time in an hour.

Goro Akechi sat cross-legged on top of the sheets of the hospital bed, wearing a set of hospital scrubs. He was okay. He was alive. He looked absolutely miserable and was picking absentmindedly at his new navy blue cast. When the curtain moved his head snapped up, and he straightened as his eyes fell on him. “Ren…”

“Hey.” Ren tried for a smile but he knew it fell a little short. He approached his bedside carefully, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around him but stopped himself. Not the sort of thing they could do in public, with the nurses and doctors coming in and out.

“The doctor will be by in a bit with your final release instructions,” the nurse said. “Just let us know if you need anything.

“Thanks,” they said together, and then they were alone. Well, relatively alone, with plenty of voices and movement happening just beyond the curtains. A tense silence settled between them, neither seeming to know what to say.

“I managed to convince them to let me leave…” Goro said softly. “They want me to find a therapist though.”

Ren flinched. It was understandable they’d recommend that, but they both knew his own history with therapists. Ren found his voice locked up, and all he could do was reach out and squeeze Goro’s hand. Goro interlaced their fingers together and squeezed back.

After a long moment of silence, Goro took a deep, steadying breath.

“I don’t want to die, Ren.”

Ren looked up. Goro wasn’t looking at him, in fact he had his eyes screwed shut. There was a splotchiness to his face that indicated he was trying not to cry.

“Goro…”

“I just… just need you to know that. I don’t want to die. Not… not anymore.” He swallowed hard. “But when the flashbacks are too strong… sometimes it’s like… being back then, and I just…”

Fuck societal propriety. Ren crossed the distance between them, leaning over the railing and pulling his boyfriend into his arms. Goro made a weak, rasping sound, something caught between a sob and a scoff, and hugged back as tightly as he could with just one arm, burying his face into Ren’s shoulder. Ren just squeezed as tightly as he dared, pressing his lips to Goro’s hair. “It’s okay, Goro. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out together.”

“I don’t want to die and I–I never wanted you to die,” he croaked, burying his face into the crook of Ren’s neck. “I didn’t want to do it, Ren, I never…”

“I know, Goro, I know.” Ren rested his cheek against the other’s hair. “I know.”

“I’m so glad you were smarter than me…” he hiccuped, clutching onto Ren like a lifeline. “I’m so, so fucking glad you’re alive…”

Ren just nodded while pressing his lips more tightly to Goro’s hairline, tears threatening him now. The feeling was absolutely mutual, of course. God those months where he’d thought Goro was… god those were the worst….

“My arm hurts…” Goro said, so close to a petulant whine that Ren couldn’t help but chuckle a little. But he brushed his fingertips through Goro’s hair to try and soothe him.

“I bet,” he finally croaked, his throat still tight. After a long time, he slowly pulled away, brushing wayward strands of the other’s bangs away from his tear-streaked face. “I think a day like today calls for some curry and then ice cream at my place. What do you think?”

Goro nodded weakly, looking like he wanted nothing more than to curl up into Ren’s lap and into his arms and never leave them. Which was exactly what he’d end up doing the moment they got back to Ren’s. But for the time being they just sat close, Ren holding Goro’s unbroken hand while they waited.

When the doctor finally swung by, they parted ways and played dumb, claiming to be roommates to avoid unwanted conversation. The doctor looked stern but not unkind as he went through Goro’s instructions for his cast, pain management, how long til he had to return to get it removed, and his steps regarding his mental health to make sure something like this never happened again. Goro just nodded wearily, exhaustion and pain clearly tugging on him.

It was a relief to step through the large doors of the hospital into the cool air. It was now well past the last train, and Ren wouldn’t take no for an answer regarding paying for the cab ride back home. As they settled into the backseat and slumped into their respective seats, a small, tired smile tweaked Ren’s lips.

“Could always try fuzzy handcuffs…” he murmured softly, hoping the cab driver didn’t see.

The scandalized, mortified, outraged look on Goro’s face was everything, even as the other man shoved him with a squawk as Ren broke down into choking, relieved laughter that brought tears to his eyes.

They were an absolute mess. But at least they were a mess together.





Notes:

WOO! That's another long-existing WIP finally scratched off the books. I've had the first section written for at least two years, just never quite knew how to finish it. Let me know what you thought!