Komaeda and Hinata had just gotten home from school. They were looking forward to their long weekend, spending it at Hinata’s father’s house. His dad was on vacation, so no one else would be home and—even better—no one would be coming back. For once, Hinata found himself profoundly grateful for the way that his father was absent, knowing it would mean that he and Komaeda would get all the time in the world to finally be alone together.
Hinata found himself flustered, embarrassingly more than Komaeda seemed to be. Komaeda just laughed weakly, thinking Hinata was adorable when he worried so much about little things that didn’t matter to him.
“I’m just lucky to get to spend some time together with you, Hajime,” he would say, in the confusing way that made Hinata feel like he might burst. “I don’t care what we do.”
Hinata felt awkward as he stood on the porch of his father’s house, feeling the urge to explain away all of his dad's strange choices in décor, fretting over judgments Komaeda would never cast against him. Komaeda smiled gently and nodded as he listened respectfully, stepping out of his shoes with a grace that seemed almost hilarious next to the haphazard decorations of woodland animals that lined the walls. Komaeda set his shoes by the others that lined the sides of the mudroom closet.
“I actually…” Hinata realized he forgot to catch his breath. He took a moment, bounding over to the large island that made up the center of the kitchen, the first room in the house. “I rented some GameCube games from that store we went to before. I thought we could play them again, it was really fun last time you were here… I wasn’t sure which one you would want to play more, and I couldn’t call you, so I just got two of them, I hope that’s—”
Komaeda chuckled at him, cutting off his anxious rambling by shushing him kindly.
“That sounds great, Hajime.” Komaeda's eyes glittered with an admiration and kindness that made Hinata blush a deep red.
“Oh,” Hinata swiped his hands along the smooth, blue stone of the kitchen island until his fingers clamped around the game he’d most wanted to share with Komaeda. “That’s great.”
They wandered downstairs, across the beige wooden steps to where Hinata’s room was kept. It was far away from the rest of the house, out of sight. Hinata appreciated the privacy whenever his dad was home. Komaeda reached for his hand as they made their way down the last few steps, sending Hinata’s heart racing. He nervously shook while Komaeda gently brushed the back of Hinata’s hand he was holding with his thumb.
Hinata was proud of how he’d managed to pull his room together. Not that he wasn’t an organized or clean person, but it was especially glossy now, almost sparkling. He set the stage for their wonderful weekend, leaving not even as much as a speck of dust to interrupt or infringe on a single moment. Komaeda flopped immediately onto Hinata’s soft queen bed, running his face into the fabric to smell where Hinata slept. He laughed to himself when Hinata got flustered by this open demonstration of his affection.
Hinata had tacked up some string lights, the kind that filtered through different shades of color. He liked drawing his curtains closed, relaxing in near darkness most of the time when he got home from his packed days at school. When he calmed down enough, he sat down beside Komaeda, sitting as straight as a board next to him as he stretched out and made himself as comfortable as a cat in a beam of sunlight.
They started up into the ceiling for a while, wordlessly, enjoying the fact that they didn’t have to put up with busy crowds in the public spaces they hung out in or the chatter of their other friends. It was just them, the house so still that they could hear each other's breath.
“You don’t have to be so nervous.” The corners of Komaeda’s eyes were crinkled from a smile that had yet to take shape across his lips. “It’s just us.”
“I-I know that…” Hinata looked away from where Komaeda tenderly stared up at him. “That’s why I’m so nervous.”
Komaeda grinned deviously. “Alright. Listen.”
He sat up, reaching onto the fluffy mat across the floor where he’d let his backpack fall. He started fishing around in it until he found the two tiny plastic baggies he’d been searching for.
“I have something to help you with that. To help you loosen up.” Komaeda jingled the baggies next to his face, showing off his prizes. They were filled with a white, chalky powder. “Junko got some more of the good stuff.”
Hinata was shocked. He knew Komaeda did this kind of thing on the regular; they’d had many talks about Komaeda’s favorite hobby, sharing long phone calls through the good trips and the bad. Hinata had never touched anything other than liquor—and that was only because their friends had forced him into it at parties.
“Komaeda, I’ve never done that before—”
“Isn’t now the best time to try?” The face of pleasure Komaeda made looked so erotic it was working miracles against Hinata’s sense of self-preservation. “I got you some as a gift. Wouldn’t it be so fun to just spend some time exploring each other and enjoying this?”
Hinata made a face, but it wasn’t completely sincere—his interest was plain to see. The way that Komaeda almost drooled made his head spin.
Hinata trailed off. He couldn’t think of any excuse. They didn’t have homework. No one would be coming home. The house was clean. They were totally free of any and all obligations… There was nothing that could stop them.
“Come on…” Komaeda helped himself to Hinata’s dresser, laying the packages down gently. The one with more powder inside was marked with cute stickers—a pink bunny and a black bear. Komaeda watched Hinata stare at him through the mirror attached to the bureau. Hinata lined up exactly with the three veins of cracks that had marred the face of the mirror after many long years of use.
Komaeda waited for Hinata to continue to object but he didn’t. Komaeda emptied his bag, remembering how insistent Junko Enoshima had been about it—”Oh, that’s so cute that you’re going to have that kind of fun with your boyfriend. Here, I’ll give you something special. This one is yours…”
He cut the already-ground particles with the back of his school ID card, mostly out of habit. He separated it into thin mounds, enough so that it wouldn’t be a struggle to get down. Komaeda couldn’t help but be excited. He’d waited a long time to score this again. Body and mind, he craved the feeling that his drug of choice provided.
He drew out a sleeved plastic straw from his backpack, a remnant from some of the spares he collected whenever they hung out at their local McDonald’s, his collection of sterile utensils used only for this purpose. He aimed it along the hills of white powder, covering the opposite side of his nose gently with a finger, making eye contact with Hinata’s reflection as he inhaled sharply.
Oh yeah, he thought.
It burned his nostril and felt strange as it collected in the back of his palette. But it felt so good already, to know that the substance had rejoined him, reunited with his body. He made quick work of the rest of his constructed piles before reaching for Hinata’s hand to pull him closer. Komaeda rubbed his nose where it pulsed and ached at the shock of the recent intrusion with the back of his free hand.
Hinata was pulled so close to Komaeda that their thighs locked together where they sat. Komaeda emptied the bag with an amount that made what he had taken in one go look like he was the national champion. Hinata’s bag had just enough; Komaeda knew Hinata’s body would react strongly to such a small dosage so he kept it that way, wanting more for Hinata to just feel a comfortable buzz so he wouldn’t get turned off from playing with him like this.
He carded it into a pile, extending the straw to Hinata.
“Just press down on this side of your nose.” Komaeda was gentle, pressing into Hinata’s opposite nostril for him. “Inhale as hard as you can and draw it down quickly. It’ll sting a little but it goes away, I promise.”
Hinata looked at Komaeda with a nervous expression that teetered between anxiety and arousal. He did as he was told while Komaeda held him and guided him. When he was finished, he hissed, fanning his nose, unsure about what to do about this new, burning sensation.
“I… I can’t believe you got me to do that.” Hinata admitted, almost snorting as he tried to make the strange sensation stop.
“Oh, yeah,” Komaeda carded his fingers through Hinata’s well kept hair, his gesture of affection praising him. “The drip is going to taste really, really weird. That’s normal.”
Hinata raised an eyebrow. “The drip?”
“It’s like…” Komaeda thought about answering him but laughed instead. Oh shit , he was already really feeling it. This was going to be intense. He brought both of his arms around Hinata, pulling him into a tight embrace, throwing himself back onto the bed so Hinata came tumbling on top of him.
He had ways to make Hinata stop asking questions.
Somewhere in the hazy high, the hours had passed the couple by. Hinata found himself sobering up, coming back into himself. The glow of the CRT monitor, stuck on a pause menu of a video game they’d played at some point, shone across the thick comforter they shared. Hinata had his arms wrapped around Komaeda’s thin waist, enjoying the feeling of his body heat. He nuzzled his face into the back of Komaeda’s neck, feeling so warm and comfortable until—
Wait . Hinata realized it with a start. Is Komaeda not breathing?
He leapt up, bringing his hands to Komaeda’s face to feel for his breath. Instead, he felt the stickiness of saliva and puke, where it had soaked into the bed. Hinata looked at his hands and screamed in horror. If he wasn’t sober already, he certainly was now.
He flipped Komaeda towards him, snapping Komaeda’s form so he looked like a rag doll. Komaeda choked, coughing and gurgling against whatever was in his throat and Hinata thought it wasn’t possible for him to be anymore relieved to see Komaeda so sick.
“I thought you were dead,” Hinata cried, readjusting Komaeda so he could carry him to the upstairs bathroom. His shock granted him more strength than he realized he’d had—or maybe Komaeda was that light? He wouldn’t stop to think about it. He felt Komaeda’s clammy skin against him, where his shirt had clung to his form and now almost felt like he was slick with slime where Komaeda connected with Hinata’s shoulder. Komaeda coughed harder now, his puke nothing more than long strings of saliva that pelted down onto the hardwood floor, clinging to his lips as he gasped.
They made it to the powder room. Hinata rushed to bring Komaeda to the toilet seat, drawing his cottony white hair back with his shaking hands.
Komaeda slid down along the face of the toilet seat, sinking like he were falling through quicksand, determined on his descent to the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head, his brow covered in sweat. The color was long gone from his face, his lips tinged a dull blue.
Hinata felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched. He thought of calling the police—or an ambulance—but he knew the amount of trouble they’d be in would be devastating. He felt the rush of a panic attack crash over him as his body moved to provide for Komaeda the best he could. He moaned in despair at the horrifying way Komaeda groaned; all of his efforts couldn’t seem to help Komaeda, couldn’t clear whatever blockage had formed in his throat.
Hinata wanted to cry out that he knew it was a mistake, but he wouldn’t. The only thing he could manage were heartbreaking echoes of “Are you okay?” over and over again.
Komaeda’s body locked up, jittering as if he were being electrocuted in Hinata’s arms. Hinata had to hold him still with his whole body as he sobbed and whined helplessly, pleading with Komaeda. He used all his strength to keep Komaeda still.
The suffering Hinata felt combined with the guilt felt unbearable.
A thought flashed to Hinata’s mind and he realized, once Komaeda’s seizure died down, that maybe he should try to force Komaeda to throw up. He was sure he’d seen it on TV once, on one of the crime dramas that his dad was obsessed with. In Komaeda’s condition, he figured it was worth the risk—he was desperate enough to try anything.
He released Komaeda gently, feeling terribly cold in the absence of Komaeda’s fever against his body. He kneeled beside Komaeda, holding him in an embrace so similar to cradling something small and delicate. Komaeda moaned with a voice that was low and distant, his eyes glassy and staring off into the ceiling, in another place, another time, deep in his own memory.
Hinata pushed his fingers into Komaeda’s drooling mouth, feeling the thick curls of Komaeda’s saliva slick against his fingers. He penetrated past Komaeda’s shivering tongue, plunging back to the point where Komaeda’s throat began to tremble around his fingertips. If Hinata weren’t so terrified, he would’ve been impossibly turned on by that feeling. He felt guilty about how tight his pants felt the longer he stayed inside the heat of Komaeda’s mouth.
Komaeda coughed in earnest. It was heavier than before. Hinata kept his fingers there, unsure of how long he’d have to wait.
It wasn’t very long.
Komaeda lurched on his own, his eyes fluttering, Hinata’s fingers dropping from Komaeda’s lips with a pop before Komaeda hurled—more against the floor and the sides of the porcelain toilet than in it, but Hinata felt unbelievable relief as Komaeda’s breathing started to come back stronger.
After what seemed like an eternity of suspense, Hinata watching every breath Komaeda took with baited breath, petting long strokes down his back, Komaeda finally spoke.
“I’m sorry about that.” Komaeda’s voice was distant as though he were dreaming. His breath was heavy. He didn’t have any strength so he leaned against the side of the seat. “It’s never happened before. Junko’s stuff is always really good.”
Hinata sobbed wordlessly, rushing to claim him in his arms.
“I love you so much.” Hinata breathed into his skin, laying a kiss against Komaeda’s damp forehead.
Komaeda laughed weakly, almost pathetically. “Someone like me… doesn’t deserve those words.”
Hinata felt all the emotions of one who had come so close to the startling reality of the temporary nature of life. He pulled Komaeda into him with a newfound confidence.
“I promise I’ll help you understand my feelings.” Hinata held him close, sheltering him. “You deserve more than you could ever know. You’re everything to me.”
Komaeda stared up at him from the place at Hinata’s chest where he could feel all the warmth of his embrace. He made an expression that Hinata had never seen him make before, something special, peaceful amongst the electric intensity of this moment.
“You’ve saved my life in more ways than you’ll ever know, Hajime.” Komaeda closed his eyes, trusting Hinata to hold him steady. “Thank you.”