[a hum of acknowledgement, and then - he starts moving his hand up and down Majima's back, slow and warm, touching but at the same time, feeling out the scarring there.
The frown on his face deepens with each one he finds]
[ There's a lot, needless to say. They're methodical, so clearly not something like when he got stabbed at the batting center or shot out by the wharf. Some are knife marks, others are burns.
Majima does his best to not tense up too much, nnnnot watching him or anything. ]
Yeah. It's rough back there. Thank fuck my guy's a great cover-up artist, because that ink pulls its weight.
Yeah, he's pretty good. Didn't even notice when we were fightin'.
[it's because there's so much that it stops him from asking right away. If it were just a couple then he wouldn't hesitate, but . . . he can tell these aren't from any fights]
[his fingers brush over one of the burns, and it's clear on his face he's trying to figure out how it got there, the logistics of it happening in a brawl or something like it.
He waits until he can catch Majima's eye to talk again]
[he briefly considers letting it go. But between the scars under his hand and the way his bro is about touching, and twenty-five years where he didn't know shit about anything - ]
[ fuck. goddamnit. he's never been able to deny his bro anything. so if he says he wants to know . . .
every muscle in his body tenses up at that as he closes his eye, trying to think of how to explain, where exactly to even begin. it began in the hole, but it didn't end there. ]
[he can tell, already, that he's about to hear something that will make his blood boil. Though if he's being honest, it started doing that the moment he felt the scars on his bro's back.
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[ huffs, getting comfy under the covers. he really should turn on the heat. or put on a shirt. but both require getting up, so. no. ]
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[don't move, you'll let the cold into the sheets]
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So that's all.
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I'll be even more obvious 'bout it next time.
[he's teasing now]
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Ass.
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[settling his arm a little more around him - . . .
His hand briefly brushes against his back, confirming something he thought he felt earlier, before settling again]
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well. it was bound to happen eventually, with all the fighting and everything else. but he says nothing about it, settling in as well. ]
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He's quiet while he considers it. And then his hand moves again, repeating the movement]
Can I?
[he doesn't miss the way he tenses, so he's asking]
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The frown on his face deepens with each one he finds]
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Majima does his best to not tense up too much, nnnnot watching him or anything. ]
Yeah. It's rough back there. Thank fuck my guy's a great cover-up artist, because that ink pulls its weight.
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Yeah, he's pretty good. Didn't even notice when we were fightin'.
[it's because there's so much that it stops him from asking right away. If it were just a couple then he wouldn't hesitate, but . . . he can tell these aren't from any fights]
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[ he's already internally bracing himself for the question he does not want to answer. ]
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[his fingers brush over one of the burns, and it's clear on his face he's trying to figure out how it got there, the logistics of it happening in a brawl or something like it.
He waits until he can catch Majima's eye to talk again]
Y'know I wanna ask.
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Wouldn't care if it was anyone else's.
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there's a pause before he sighs, considering. ]
. . . bro. Ya really don't wanna know.
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[he briefly considers letting it go. But between the scars under his hand and the way his bro is about touching, and twenty-five years where he didn't know shit about anything - ]
He looks at him, jaw set]
I want to know.
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every muscle in his body tenses up at that as he closes his eye, trying to think of how to explain, where exactly to even begin. it began in the hole, but it didn't end there. ]
Fuck. Okay.
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He nods, but he stays quiet, waiting]
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After I lost my eye, Shimano had me thrown into the Hole.
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His hand stops, but it stays resting against his back as Saejima leans back a bit to see him better, eyes widening]
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He kept me there for a year.
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