Request: I’m not sure if I ever sent this one in so forgive me if it’s a repeat! Can I request comfort with Jin or Shuichi where the reader finally confesses their feelings and kisses them, only to misunderstand their stunned silence as rejection? They start apologizing and crying because they’re embarrassed and think they were rejected based on their looks
A/N: I think I remember getting one but maybe I’m confusing it with another thing. I’m like super forgetful, sorry!!
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Jin Bubaigawara:
Jin has never been one to expect for others to fall for him. He’s always been told he’s had a mean look- a strong brow bone, a sharp jaw, and eyes that were half-lidded and a scar that stitched him together. And that’s only mentioning his appearance, and not taking into account of his personality, something that he can’t control, that he can never get a hang of no matter all the years and supposed self-healing that he’s tried to put himself through. It’s not taking into account just how clingy and emotional he is- how quickly he falls for another person that it causes fear and discomfort to squirm inside the other. He was fine having a simple crush on another, twisting the feelings into something perverse so he wouldn’t grow attached, so he could not care.
But then, you kiss him. A peck through his mask, on the corner of his lips, and he’s silent; and it must look terrifying to you. A silent man, with eyes shrouded by a mask, expression unreadable, as he stares at you. He can’t breathe. It’s never been so difficult except for the first few times where he had to calm him, where he had to reassure that no one could see him and that the mask was keeping him together far better than anything else could. But he’s quiet. Uncomfortably so, and time should be passing just as it always does- tick, tock- and yet, he isn’t sure if it’s still even continuing, perpetually stuck on the tick, as he focuses on the pressure where you kissed him, how he can feel the chapstick that clings to the fabric, how he can smell the mint.
It’s been a long time since he’s kissed someone. It’s been longer since anyone has kissed him in a way that wasn’t clouded by lust. It takes a moment for him to hear your voice. An echo in the distance, until he hears the soft sob- the hiccup that tears through your words and the scared look in your eyes. Your face is flushed- heavily so- the tip of your nose a dark color, and your eyes shine. They meet his for a second, for less than a second, even, because you look down, away from him and take a step back. You’re apologizing, your hands curling in and around your body, desperate to keep yourself together and he still can’t bring himself to say something. He can’t reassure you except to just stand there, mint on his mask, and sweat slick on his forehead.
You’re telling him that you hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable. You simply want to kiss him- to just confess to him and you did, and you’re so sorry that you ever did. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re crying, tears spilling over and staining your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembles, and it’s getting difficult to say a cohesive sentence. And he blurts out a sentence quickly, his hands lifting in front of him, and wraps his hands around your wrists, slowly and harshly sliding them up to wrap around your hands.
Silence falls between the two of you, and it’s only ruined by your desperate attempt to quiet your cries into whimpers. He hadn’t meant to make you cry. He was shocked. Stunned into silence where his brain had to reboot to understand that you kissed him. He lowers his hands along with yours, his calloused hand sliding against your palm, and dragging to the tips of your fingers, until he holds lightly onto you. He likes you too- much more than you could ever expect. Much more than he could fathom. You’re nice to him, letting him ramble to you, letting him rest his head on your shoulder despite him being much bigger than you, and he didn’t mean to make you sad. He just didn’t expect that you would make the first move. Jin can’t kiss you without the mask, still needing it to hold him together, but when he lowers himself, his breath and making his face hot, your hands curve against his face, and he can feel the pressure of your lips against the place where you kissed and he lets out a shuddering, long exhale, tilting his face to feel the weight of you for just a little bit longer.
Shuichi Iguchi:
Despite being a recluse as he grew, he’s had people he’s liked before. It was always a crush, a strong admiration where he talked to another person or heard about what they were doing and his heart would skip a beat. And he’d entertained himself that perhaps, they could like him too, that they enjoyed talking to him too. As much as he did with them. But it was never the case, and that hurt Shuichi in a way that made him bitter and desperate for admiration. You hold his hand, wrapping your much softer one around his hardened scales that are beginning to peel, and you kiss the tip of his snout, close to his lips but not quite there. It’s a warmth he’s unfamiliar with, something that’s too hot and uncomfortable for him, something that makes his body run cold and teeth nip at the soft insides of his cheeks.
He should say something. He knows he should. The silence between the two of you shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t last this long. Especially not after you’ve kissed him. Not after you told him that you liked him in a way that he could only dream of. The silence shouldn’t last this long. He needs to say something. Now. Anything. Something. Something that would be nice to hear. Something that he knows he would’ve loved to hear if the roles were reversed. You’ve only just kissed the tip of his snout, and it was a fleeting kiss. A peck. One where he can still your lips tickle his scales, where he can feel the soft press and feel your hand around his. His mouth is parted, eyes wide and doe-like, and he’s frozen into place. He can fight, hold his own and thrash and bleed, and yet, the simple act of a peck is what has reduced him to nothing more than a breathing statue.
You say his name and there’s fear in your voice and that is what gets him to respond, to jerk back into life. There are tears in your eyes, spilling over your flushed cheeks. Your name is breathed into life. You’re crying because of him. Or because of the situation, but he’s the one who’s put into this awkward spot. You hold yourself together, and you’re apologizing to him, looking down in shame and he wonders what you think of him at this moment. He wonders if you’re selfish enough to think about yourself right now- to berate and comfort yourself all at once, all while you cry in front of someone who’ve you confessed to and all that they can do is stand there, watching you and being unable to say anything, and yet, that silence must be deafening and horrid to hear. His tongue wets the front of his teeth, and takes a short breath. Your name is soft on his tongue, filling his mouth with honey. It’s something whispered under his breath that starts with a shuddering breath and ends without breath. And finally, you stop talking, you stop apologizing and look up at him with fear and embarrassment in your eyes, with rejection and sadness that spills over and wets your face.
Reality rushes to him, leaving him cold and empty, and you’re in front of him, trying to wipe your tears with the back of your hand and sniffling as you do so. Maybe if he had a better upbringing, maybe if he didn’t hate himself so much, maybe if he thought that he had a chance with you, then he wouldn’t have made you cry. Maybe he could have offered something to you. Maybe he could have told you that you were pretty. He could’ve been the one to make the first move. To hold your hands like you did with his, pulling you close to him and kissing the tip of your nose as you stood in front of him with a smile beaming across your face, holding him close to you. That’s what he wants- what he wanted. And because he couldn’t push himself, you took that step, and now he’s made you cry and made you believe that he doesn’t like you in the same way that you like him.
Reaching towards you, his hands wrap around yours, and the apple in his throat bobs. His head dips and it’s a tense motion, one that has his heart beating against his ribs and stomach twisting into knots even if he knows the outcome. The tip of his snout brushes along your nose, and your eyes are shining, wide and teary eyed, and he can feel your breath against his. He stops himself before he can go any further and hides his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the soft space, feeling how your heart quickens and rushes. The hold on your hand is tight, enough to fear that he’ll break it, but he’s shaking, apologizing close to your ear and telling you that he likes you too. Shuichi pulls away, and he has the intertwined hands close to him, as if to pull you close to him, and he’s too new to kissing, too new to all of this to properly kiss you, and he wants to kiss you with his eyes closed and hands on you, but for now, he kisses your temple, and gives you an apology for making you cry while he holds your hand.
