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The worst thing about this apartment is the mirror directly across from the toilet.
Hajime glares at his reflection as he sits down. The last thing anyone wants to do is look at themself while they're taking a piss, but it feels worse tonight. Tonight he stares at the pimple in the middle of his forehead and frowns.
"Bunch of bullshit," he murmurs. He wipes and flushes and stands to wash his hands. There's more pimples along his jawline and one growing on his nose. He looks down at the countertop.
It's been scarcely more than six months since Hajime had rolled over in the night, sleep still evading him, and poked Tooru awake. "Hey," he'd whispered.
Tooru threw as many limbs as he could manage over Hajime's body and mumbled something unintelligible, which was sign enough to Hajime that he was awake.
"Would you…" Hajime still remembers the way he'd felt breathless, terrified. "Would you still love me if I were a man?"
"Mm." Tooru had nuzzled his face into Hajime's neck. "If you were a big stinky ape, I'd be a bigger stinkier ape. We'd drive everyone away with our stench."
Hajime had nudged him. "Tooru. I'm being serious."
Hajime's eyes were adjusted enough to the dark that he saw his boyfriend slowly blink awake. "Hey," he'd whispered. "I'm gonna love you no matter what."
Hajime swallowed. "No matter what?"
Tooru had cupped his cheek. "Tell me what you're thinking, baby."
Since then, he's been Hajime's number one supporter, on good days and bad. The first few weeks Hajime had been on hormones, Tooru had held his hand and helped him push the needle into his skin. On nights he cooked, he made twice as much as he needed to, just in case Hajime was feeling extra hungry. He's been the best boyfriend anyone could possibly ask for.
And Hajime's barely been able to let him touch him.
Prior to beginning his transition, he'd dealt with dysphoria by pushing down the feelings of hating his body and feeling wrong in it. He hadn't even given them a name. Now that he understands what he's always known, those feelings linger over his shoulder constantly. Even tonight, when Hajime had been so horny he'd practically pinned Tooru to the bed as soon as he'd gotten home, he'd ended up giving him a blow job and using a bullet vibe that's known better days to get himself off. It was a miserable sort of relief, to finally come but so weakly, so sadly.
Tooru's been patient. He never pushes Hajime, gets him off however he asks, whenever he asks, and hasn't expressed a bit of disappointment that they haven't had penetrative sex in months. But he has to be thinking about it. Hajime certainly is.
Tooru comes into the bathroom and koalas around Hajime's back. "Iwa-chan. You're taking forever."
"I'm trying not to get an infection, Shittykawa." He turns his cheek for Tooru to place a kiss upon it.
"You flushed like five minutes ago," Tooru points out. "And your face looks squashed like it does when you're thinking too hard."
"Better than not thinking at all." It's hard to feel too stressed with Tooru's arms around him. He lets himself relax into his boyfriend's arms. "Just got distracted, that's all."
"By what?"
Hajime sighs. "My face."
"It is very handsome."
Hajime feels red rise quickly into his cheeks. "It's not," he can't help but argue. "It still looks like a girl's. It's all round in the cheeks. Plus I'm all broken out again even though you gave me that astringent that's supposed to start acting when you even think about acne–"
"I wish it worked like that."
"--and I'm just." He huffs through his nose. "I just hate my body a little bit right now. That's all."
Tooru is quiet for a moment. He lays his palms flat against Hajime's hips and kisses his shoulder. "You're more than your body, you know," he murmurs.
Hajime sighs. "Yeah. I know."
"I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through. I'm not trans and I've never felt dysphoric, so I won't pretend to know what it feels like. But can I tell you something?"
Hajime nods, and Tooru looks up to meet his eyes in the mirror.
"I think you're perfect."
Hajime slumps a bit. "I know you do."
"No, really. I mean it." Tooru scoots in a little closer to him. "I think your body is the perfect body for you, just like it is right now."
Hajime frowns. "But it's not…manly."
"But you're a man." Tooru kisses his neck. "And so whatever body you're in is a man's body. And I know somewhere inside you, you know that."
Hajime tips his head back to rest on Tooru's shoulder. "But I have girl parts."
"No, you don't." Tooru hooks his thumb in the waistband of the boxers. "You have Hajime parts. They're on you, and you're not a girl, so they're not girl parts."
"Tooru…"
Tooru sweeps his thumb along Hajime's hip, and it makes him gasp.
"Can I keep going?" he murmurs.
Hajime thinks for a moment. As trapped as he feels in a body that should be someone else's, as frustrated as he is with every part of himself that feels like it's out of his control…Tooru still wants him. And he still wants Tooru.
He nods.
Tooru gently pushes the boxers down his thighs. Hajime parts his legs just enough for Tooru to slip a hand between them. He runs his finger along Hajime's labia, and Hajime closes his eyes.
"You really are perfect, Hajime," Tooru murmurs. "You're so strong. So much stronger than I'll ever be."
"That isn't true," Hajime whispers, voice catching.
"It is. You can do things I'd never even dream of." His fingers gently push past skin until they catch on Hajime's cock, small as it is. He hasn't had any bottom growth yet, not really, and it still makes him miserable to think it won't ever be more than what it is. But Tooru caresses it, strokes it gently, makes Hajime gasp again. "Mm, there you are. Such a good boy for me, aren't you?"
It goes straight to Hajime's head, just like it always does. Some days he thinks he could survive on just these little bits of Tooru's praise alone.
"You are strong, and you are kind, and you are so, so good," he continues. "You are the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. The most perfect boyfriend on the planet."
"That's–you," Hajime tries to argue. It's hard to think when Tooru's fingers are stroking him so perfectly.
"Hm, nope. It's you." Hajime's eyes are still closed but he can hear the smile in Tooru's voice. "And someday, you're gonna make the best husband on the planet."
" Oh ," Hajime gasps, his cock twitching against Tooru's fingertips.
"Oh, you like that?" Tooru croons, pleased with himself. "You like when I call you my husband, Hajime?"
Hajime can only nod. He leans forward and grips the counter tightly with both hands.
"Well, you will be. The best, most handsome husband of all time, even, and all mine."
Tooru's fingers slide back for a moment, just to gather some of the slick pooling there, and Hajime doesn't even grit his teeth. It's okay if Tooru touches him there, at least for tonight. It's okay for Tooru to make him feel good.
Tooru is quiet for a few moments, pressing kisses along Hajime' shoulder and up his neck. He jerks Hajime's cock in long strokes, the way he's learned makes Hajime feel best. Hajime feels his cock pressed against the cleft of his ass, slowly growing harder as he takes Hajime apart. When he speaks again, it's directly into Hajime's ear.
"And then, someday, you'll be the best father for our kids," Tooru whispers. Hajime whimpers, his knees feeling weak. "The best man they'll ever know. The best man I've ever known."
"T-Tooru," Hajime stutters. "Fuck, please, don't stop."
"I won't," Tooru promises. "I'm gonna be there for all of it. I'm gonna sleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning, my perfect man. My only man."
"I'm close," Hajime gasps.
"I know," Tooru answers. "And you're gonna come for me, my love. My Hajime. My perfect, perfect man. Open your eyes."
Hajime opens his eyes and catches a glimpse of the two of them. Tooru, behind him, wears a gentle smile, his hair a mess from their earlier round, his lips grazing Hajime's ear. And Hajime…just looks like himself. Coming apart at the seams because of Tooru, just like he always is, just like he always has been.
When it hits him, his knees buckle and he loses his balance, but Tooru catches him. He reaches back and cups Tooru's neck. It rolls through his body, toes to head, overwhelming in the best sort of way. Tooru breathes praise into his ear and keeps going until Hajime grasps his wrist, whining with oversensitivity.
"Can I?" Tooru murmurs again, pressing himself closer to Hajime.
Hajime nods, keeping his fingers locked around Tooru's wrist. Tooru rubs his cock against Hajime's ass and groans softly until Hajime feels warmth on his low back.
"Fuck," Tooru whispers, hips still jerking up against Hajime. "Fuck, I love you so much."
"I love you, too," Hajime answers. "I love you. You're perfect, too."
Tooru hums happily, and for a few moments they stand under the glow of the shitty bathroom light. There's nothing more in the world Hajime could want than to be here, sharing this moment, this life, with his best friend. Then he frowns.
"You just came all over my back, didn't you?"
"Yeah," Tooru agrees. "It was awesome."
"Ugh." Hajime lets go of Tooru's neck and reaches for a washcloth. "You're cleaning me up, you perv."
"Your favorite perv," Tooru answers, withdrawing his hand from Hajime's boxers to smack his ass. Hajime yelps and gets the cloth wet only to fling water at Tooru.
He's getting there, Hajime thinks later that night. Tooru is already asleep, his leg thrown over Hajime's. Hajime can't help but smile when he looks at him.
He's going to love his body someday. And he knows Tooru will hold his hand every day until then, and every day after.