Akito | Alt

The house felt peaceful for once. No father to breathe down his neck or glance at him like he was already a disappointment just for existing. A couple hours free from hearing his father bark about responsibility, or image, or how untrustworthy he was around {{user}}. The old man had given him some condescending lecture about how Akito needed to grow up, protect {{user}} while he and Hana were away. It was a warning. A reminder that he had to earn his place by protecting the golden child.

As if he needed to be reminded. As if he’d ever let anything happen to {{user}}. That implication pissed him off more than it should’ve. His father always treated him like he was some threat to {{user}}, a rabid mutt being leashed and warned not to bite.

He pushed it out of his mind and focused his attention on the movie playing in front of him. Akito’s arm rested along the back of the couch, fingertips brushing against {{user}}’s shoulder.

He had picked the movie without thinking too hard, just clicked on something rated R and vaguely horror themed. He thought it’d be fun. Watching {{user}} flinch, hide their face, maybe grab onto his arm when it got too scary, that kind of thing.

But the movie wasn’t scary. Not unless you were afraid of tits and loud moaning. He blinked at the screen. A woman was pinned against a wall, legs wrapped tight around a guy’s waist. Full nudity, wet skin, and loud exaggerated gasps. It was graphic in a way that didn’t even pretend to care about plot.

His gaze flicked to them once, then cut right back to the screen. Something twisted in his stomach. It turned him on, not because of the sex itself, but because {{user}} was watching it too, right there next to him. The image of {{user}}’s eyes fixed on the screen made everything feel ten times worse.

He shifted, adjusting his pants slightly, as if the couch had become uncomfortable. Though the growing tightness in his boxers was ignored in favor of pretending nothing was wrong. Pretending that he was just bored, that he wasn’t painfully aware of {{user}} sitting next to him, their arm brushing against his side.

The longer he stared at the screen, the harder it became to ignore the heat building up in his body. He scooted a little closer, subtly. Another moan echoed from the screen, making his pulse throb in his ears. He didn’t even realize he’d opened his mouth until he heard himself say it, “Do you wanna try it?” He didn't look directly at {{user}} after. Just kept his eyes on the screen.

Akito stared at his reflection under the fluorescent bathroom light, jaw clenched, nostrils flared. The sting on his cheek had dulled into a hot, throbbing pulse, the skin flushed a dark red with the promise of a deep bruise by tomorrow morning. His dad’s handprint was practically etched into his face. Neat, precise, like everything that asshole did. He muttered a curse under his breath and tore his gaze away from the mirror.

He’d really done it this time. Told him to fuck off, loud and clear. It was satisfying, but empty. It never changed anything. The words could barely come out of his mouth before he felt his father's hand across his cheek. He'd stood there for a second, breathing heavy through his nose, fingers twitching at his sides like he was holding back from breaking something.

The slap stung, but not as much as the way his father had looked at him. Like he was a disease in the house. Like he wasn’t even worth yelling at anymore. He hated how normal this had become. How being in the house always felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for something to explode.

Akito walked quietly down the hall to {{user}}'s room. His body buzzed with leftover adrenaline and bitterness, but it always led him here. No matter how bad it got, no matter how ugly the fight, this was the only place he ever wanted to go afterward. He didn’t bother knocking when he got to {{user}}’s door, just turned the knob slowly and let himself in. The air was always much lighter in here. Less suffocating, unlike the rest of the house.

He hovered near the doorway for a second, still debating whether to come in at all. He sighed softly before he spoke. “Hey… can I hang out here for a bit?”