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The mattress groans beneath Tsukasa's weight, welcoming him into its plush clutches like tar to feathers. Warm, and stuck.
Which is what Tsukasa is — his body too worn, too beaten, too used. It's not as if Tsukasa doesn't have incredible stamina and strength. But, even he got tired, sometimes.
He's been from one end of Japan to the other. Flown out of the country and back. Tsukasa is, without a doubt, tired as fuck.
But, he would do anything for Mirai.
He would do anything for—
"Shishiou Tsukasa— down and out for the count!" A voice lowers its pitch, curls somewhere between humor and mocking.
Senku.
Tsukasa's lips twitch to a smile, there's a cut from a knuckle on his bottom and upper lip. Following each other in perfect symmetry. Not the worst of his wounds — but the most annoying.
"Kuu." The fond nickname slips out, a beg wrapped up in a beckon. Senku is leaning on the bedroom wall, arms crossed. Carmine eyes narrowed behind white eyelashes — expression between intrigue and amusement.
"It's been a while, Tsukasa. I almost wondered if you were forgetting about me." It's not a jab, it's not anything mean-spirited. But Tsukasa feels it like a punch in the ring all the same.
The shame must show on his face.
"Agh." Senku rolls his eyes, pushing off the wall to pad over to his bed that Tsukasa has crawled in. Because Tsukasa had been emancipated from his shitty father as soon as he got rich enough. But he didn't have a house, he had hotel rooms, he had airplanes ferrying him to and from. But there was never a point to funnel the money into a pent, or an apartment, or a house, or even one of those boat-homes. Not when it was all for Mirai in the end.
But when he was back in Japan— he had Senku.
"I was just making a joke, man." The springs of the mattress squeal a little more as Senku sits on the edge of it, toying with Tsukasa's hair. "No need to make puppy eyes at me."
Rather than responding, well muscled arms wrap around Senku's waist — effortless strength pulling the scientist down to his (their) bed.
"Hey!" Senku calls sharply, pale brows furrowed as Tsukasa rag-dolls him to cuddle. "Down boy! Down! No need to shoulder throw me!"
"If I shoulder threw you, you would know it." Tsukasa chuckles, smiling warmly into the crown of pale hair. "And it's called seoi nage."
"Mm, yeah whatever." Senku huffs, wiggling to become more comfortable and in the process, he throws a leg over Tsukasa's hip. In return, Tsukasa curls an arm over Senku's thin shoulders. Pulling him in closer until he could smell oil, the faint burn smell of overheated fuses, all the trinkets Senku had been working on.
"I did miss you." Tsukasa whispers, eyes heavy. But Tsukasa clung on, willed himself awake because Senku was here and it wouldn't be too long before he was called away, another match, another roaring crowd, more money for Mirai to have a comfortable sleep.
"Yeah." Senku softens in his arms — and this — Tsukasa allows himself to be selfish about. Holding Senku, loving Senku, Senku. Stealing away the moments of soft edges, genuine vulnerability. The ability to hold him close even when he dodged Taiju and Yuzuriha's friendly, familial touches. "Now that Taiju finally confessed to Yuzuriha, he's not around as much to help me carry heavy stuff for my experiments. So, I've really been missing you."
Well, maybe those sharp edges are still being rounded into something soft.
"Is that all I'm good for?" A thin eyebrow lifts, there's a cut through it too. The hair in the center of his eyebrow is sparse and bald. Senku's hand — calloused and cut by his own means — reaches up to poke around the skin. Drawing a little hiss from Tsukasa as the tender skin is irritated.
Senku hums, he knew it would hurt — but he loved the satisfaction of being right.
"It's what boyfriends are supposed to do." Senku responds, carmine eyes glittering.
"I'll remember that, next time I need you to lift something heavy." It would be fun to watch Senku squirm, bitch and grumble to himself while sweat coated his skin. Tsukasa would lean back — watch as Senku grew frustrated and flustered — and wait for the moment he gritted his teeth and asked Tsukasa for help.
And Senku knew it, too. Huffing to himself.
"Still." The scientist traces his chests — from his umbilicus to his deltoid muscle — mapping out the tender aches and splotches of bruises like a sailor does the stars. Tsukasa winces, bites his breath. Lets himself be the organism under Senku's microscope.
"I don't know why you don't let me come to your games when I'm able to, it's a simple solution to our little time spent together."
Tsukasa tenses, and wills his body to relax even though he swears the mattress suddenly now vibrates like the air of money hungry eyes. All on him.
"No, I don't want you to see me in the ring."
Senku frowns, pausing his poking and prodding to prop up on his shoulder. Tsukasa is already avoiding his eyes. "That's illogical, I see clips of you online after every single match and reruns on television."
"And I hate that, more than anything."
"I don't see why."
"Because-" Tsukasa blows a hard breath. "I don't want you to see me as him."
"Him? Him who?" Senku tilts his head.
"As The Strongest Primate High Schooler." Tsukasa mocks the announcers and grits his teeth. His mind rerunning memories like the television reran all his wins — a constant sore reminder of Tsukasa's used body for other's whims and needs.
Except Mirai, Tsukasa could never hate Mirai.
"I don't want you to see me as someone who could snap your neck before you even realize it." Tsukasa continues, and Senku hums idly like he wants to object — probably staving off a ramble on how he'd avoid Tsukasa's nefarious plan to kill him. But for once, the scientist stays quiet. "I want you to know me as Shishiou Tsukasa, the boy who likes to read and loves his sister."
"Again, illogical." Senku huffs, and swings his legs over either side of Tsukasa's lap. Straddling the boy who, suddenly feels an uptick in hormones in spite of the exhaustion in his limbs.
"It's wildly known that couples who lie to each other frequently have a low statistic of staying together."
"It's not…" Tsukasa's hands grab for Senku's hips, kneading them tenderly. While Senku's wiry arms cross together, staring determinedly at Tsukasa. "It's not lying or hiding."
"Because you literally can't." Senku notes dryly. "If this was some underground bullshit you totally would, and then I'd find out and be super pissed at you and then boom. Relationship over, probably."
"You really want to go to a match that bad?" Tsukasa growls, feels his throat constrict. If it were an underground illegal ring — there wouldn't have been a second thought in his mind to lie about it. It would be protecting Senku, like he's trying to do now.
"I don't." Senku replies, lightly. "It's undoubtedly going to be loud and gross and I'll leave with a headache but-"
He folds his body, brushing noses with Tsukasa so suddenly that the boy underneath startles. Caught under the intense glint of ruby eyes.
"You're missing the point of what I'm trying to say, the strongest primate high schooler and Shishuou Tsukasa are the mirrored sides of the same coin. You can't be one without the other. And so, I want to know both sides."
Senku wets his teeth, grins. "And, maybe I want to see how you squirm in the ring, knowing I'm there watching you."
Sore knuckles slip under Senku's shirt, trailing up warm skin. He hums, pleased like a cat. All meanwhile Tsukasa lips twist, displeased.
"You're infuriating sometimes."
"So I've been told."
"I'll…" Tsukasa bites his breath, releases it like a wounded animal. "Consider it."
"Hm," Senku is, by all means — spoiled, greedy. Not in the way he was excessively given money, toys, luxury. But in the way he's unused to not getting what he wants with copious amount of works. And Tsukasa's unwavering commitment to keeping The Strongest Primate High Schooler and Shishiou Tsukasa as separate individuals does what it always does when Senku is faced with a challenge.
He becomes greedier.
"I suppose, that's acceptable for now." Senku toys with long brown hair, and Tsukasa toys with the hem of worn cotton. A size (or two) too big to be his.
"Now." The scientist grins. "How tired are you, exactly?"
A warm palm cups the nape of a pale neck.
"Awake enough." Tsukasa replies, flipping a laughing Senku on his back and claiming his mouth, as if he's claiming a golden belt.
It's loud.
The lights are bright — straining Tsukasa's vision as his bare feet pad into the ring. Knuckles tight, shoulders rolling.
There are nerves alight in his belly — but not because of the cocky appointment in front of him, with feet too close together and fists too far apart.
But because of the gleaning red eyes tucked away in the crowd, watching his every move.