Disclaimer: I wish Hard to Hold were mine ;___;
Warnings: BL, angst, age difference and all that.
Author's Note: ;_____; Shimura... I always want to write things for him, but they always turn out horribly depressing... that poor, poor man.
More than anything else in the world, Shimura is terrified that he will never be able to make Hiiro love him. It's not, really, of course, that he wants to force him, he's always only wanted to show Hiiro just how much much cares about him, to make him understand the depths of his devotion, only wanted to draw out even a fraction of the same feeling from his young lover. But when, time after time, Hiiro takes his affections for granted, when Shimura is rebuked again and again, the frustration sets in, and then worse, the fear. The fear that one day, the man who gave Hiiro his most treasured item will waltz back into his life and take the boy away from Shimura forever, the fear that one day, Shimura will wait in Hiiro's apartment all night only for Hiiro never to return home. And once the thoughts are in Shimura's mind, they can't be shaken; they cling to him, claws sinking in and rooting themselves deeper and deeper into his heart. And so it isn't that he wants to force Hiiro, it's just that he simply can't bear the thought of losing him.
And it's tantalizing, really, teasing to lie in bed beside this beautiful creature, to be able to look, to touch, all with the full knowledge that it means nothing in the end. He's fairly certain, even, that he'd give up the sex, the urgent kisses and heated touches behind closed doors, just to know for certain that Hiiro loved him, just to hold the boy's hand and see his smile and know it was for him and no one else would certainly make Shimura the happiest man in the world. But, of course, that isn't an option, and so he settles for meeting Hiiro in the astronomy room after hours and waiting for him in his apartment in the evenings and pushing him into his bed to kiss him long and hard and press inside of him as if they really and truly did fit together.
And in the long run, really, there's not much else he can do. Hiiro's a living creature with his own mind and will, and all Shimura can do is hold onto him and hope he doesn't slip away. It's like he's a small animal, a rabbit, and if Shimura squeezes too tightly, it will hurt him and he'll lash back, bite Shimura for his efforts. Shimura knows this, and yet it's just a little too tempting to hold him down and break his hind legs so that he can't hop away.
It's horrible, Shimura knows, just like it's horrible for him to snap every time Hiiro's a little late or suspect every phone call, every message is from another love, but the mere idea of another man in Hiiro's life makes Shimura's skin crawl and his stomach twist inside of him, and it's a realistic enough fear that it eats away at him day and night, nagging at the back of his mind during his classes and haunting his dreams in his sleep.
And then he goes home in the evenings to be told that he's not half the man his father was, because everyone loved his father and no one loves Shimura, and the horrible part is that it's true. No matter what he does, he cannot make Hiiro love him, and out of everything, out of all of the comparisons and the inferiorities, that is the one truth that Shimura truly cannot bear.