My life fairy tale.
This is a little experimental story inspired by my favorite Christmas fairy tale movie "Marozko"(in Russian), and Father Frost (in English). As much as I tried to keep the characters in canon, Usagi came out more diligent and Misaki more... adventurous :) Warning: un-beta, but despite my still in progress English, I hope it's readable and likable.
It was an ultimatum she gave him. He had to choose between the love of his life and his beloved brother, and being a good, obedient husband he chose her. Thus he was driving, now with a heavy heart and troubled mind, this lovely in appearance and pure in nature boy to the spot from where a bus would take him far away, to the big unknown city of Tokyo. He could as well throw his little brother to the wolves in a forest, the outcome would be the same.
How could've it all come to this...?
Takahiro sighed, recounting the events of the past few years in his head. They were two siblings, orphans, living in an unhurried but charming town at the feet of the mighty Mount Fuji. Their deceased parents left them a little business, a hotel, as the area swarmed with tourists every summer and the family estate big enough to accommodate ten with ease. But it was not fit for her, sharing a simple joy and comfort of the home at the mount-side with him and his brother.
Misaki. He took another, for this once, a real weighty sigh. Manami, the women he had married a few years ago, was the one that presented everything the lonely man in charge of his still young sibling was looking for. His beautiful, hard-working and understanding wife.
Yet, all that had changed when she brought to life her first child Mahiro. Suddenly the house had started to be small and cramped, and she was certain, if they wanted another one, they would need more of privacy, more of space indeed. She said, she had to think of her own family and children, little she heeded Misaki who, at that time, had been still a child himself and her family as well. With his head always in some fantasy world and quiet, respectful behaviour the boy never intruded into their life. On the contrary, despite his age, he was a valuable help, spending most of his free time after the school working around the hotel. She had retreated from her request then, but only under the one condition: when the boy becomes an adult, he must move out. Go his own way.
Before long, the dreaded day had come. Misaki turned eighteen and not even two months passed since they had enjoyed a birthday cake, Takahiro was doing what he had promised to his...unyielding wife.
It was best just to abide by the woman's wishes for the sake of peace in their house.
In a certain sense she was right, Misaki needed his own life and he, as the boy's guardian and older brother, ought to give him his chance. It wasn't mistake, was it? Takahiro kept excusing as to why in the late winter afternoon he was dropping his little, sheltered brother to a rarely used bus stop at the edge of the town; packed with whatever clothes they could fit into one backpack and a few checks for the start. They would barely cover a university entrance fee and an accommodation for a month.
Further on, the future was in the boy's own hands, as his practical wife had suggested, "Less help he gets, more independency he will learn."
And Misaki? The dreamer with his light-hearted attitude didn't help Takahiro's inner dilemma either. He just mumbled "Don't worry nichan, I will manage just fine," and all the way continued to bury his nose in his fairy tale book, from which he somewhat took his enthusiasm and strength as though his bright future was written in there.
-In a far-away country, there lived a stepmother who had a stepdaughter and also a daughter of her own. Her own daughter was dear to her, and whatever she did the mother was the first to praise her, but there was but little praise for the stepdaughter; although good and kind, she had no other reward than reproach. What on earth could have been done? The wicked shrew was determined to get rid of the girl by fair means or foul, and kept saying to her father: 'Send her away, old man; send her away-anywhere so that my eyes shan't be plagued any longer by the sight of her, or my ears tormented by the sound of her voice. Send her out into the fields, and let the cutting frost do for her.' And so afraid of his wife, he did.-
It wasn't exactly his fault. The older man reasoned in vain his action. Or was it? Could he has done something more to prevent the situation and spare his young brother from the struggle? The guilt washed over him like a cold sweat as he pondered the question.
Yes, he could have. At last, with a growing shame, Takahiro admitted frankly while he watched the reflection of Misaki's petite figure in the mirror getting smaller and smaller. He still can.
The sun was setting down, the twilight was spreading around and the cold was rising up, yet no bus came around to take Misaki away from the merciless frost. More time passed and more rare became the cars driving by on the snowy road, though nobody in them noticed the boy sitting in the little glass booth, concerned with their own safety as they were. Suddenly a sound from behind picked up his attention and he turned around. On the other side of the bus stop, where narrow tourist track winded up along the tree line, the jingle of bells reverberated through the chilling air. There, the two white horses in a rich, gilded harness trotted through the high snow pulling a no-less fine-looking sleigh.
"Stay!" The man on sleigh halted his graceful animals right next to the booth, causing the fog of snowflakes swirling around their hoofs to settled down. He was all wrapped in a lush blue coat, embroidered with silver and gold, and sticking from under the heavy furry hat a silver mop of hair obscured his piercing violet yes that focused on the shivering boy.
Misaki raised his red, frost-pinched face and green wide eyes to the imposing creature who sized him from head to toes.
"Aren't you cold there, boy? Except a snow storm, nothing else is coming here tonight."
His voice was deep, almost husky and Misaki shuddered not only from the cold. A little puff of warm mist escaped out off of his mouth into the crispy air as he politely answered, "I'm all right mister, thank you for asking, I'm waiting for a bus."
"Did you not hear what I said? All the busses were canceled today."
His face fell and he shrunk a bit into himself, "Ah bad, I can't go back." Misaki didn't want to disappoint his brother. He didn't want to be cause for another endless argument between Takahiro and his wife that his return would surely start.
"I guess that much. Than come with me, you can't sit here. You'll freeze to death."
Wordless, Misaki could not move, almost forgot to breathe, as he eyed the stranger. But soon he came to himself when he recalled something conspicuous in his mind and with the half-frozen fingers he opened the book that kept him company during the waiting to gather a piece of enlightening confirmation from his favorite fairy tale.
-Alone, quite alone remained the poor girl sitting under a fir-tree at the edge of the forest.
Father Frost, the almighty sovereign at that place, clad in furs, with a long, long, white beard and a shining crown on his white head, approached nearer and looked at this beautiful guest of his and asked:
"Do you know me?—me, the red-nosed Frost?"
"Yes indeed, be welcome, Father Frost," answered gently the young girl.
"Are you comfortable, sweet child?" again asked the Frost, pleased with her looks and mild manners.
"Indeed I am," answered the girl, even almost out of breath from cold.
But the Frost, however, knew all about the weakness of human beings, he knew no one of them could struggle long against the power of Frost, the king of winter. The kindness of the gentle girl charmed old Frost so much that he made the decision to treat her differently from others.-
When Misaki glanced up, he noticed it picked the man's curiosity. The stranger looked like he would patiently, with a sudden fondness, watch him reading, nevertheless, the unusual quietness around the forest reminded him of a storm that was soon to begin.
"We should be going boy if we want to make it. I have a lot of books myself, you may read what you want under my roof."
But he had already finished and as reluctant at first, now with satisfying smile Misaki briskly closed the book and grabbing what little he had packed of his belongings he hefted it to the sleigh.
"You are a strange boy," the man shook his head as he helped him up and tucked him in the large fur blanket, "you behave like you have no worries in the world, but you must be frozen to the bone." He mumbled explanation for his concerns.
"And you are a wondrous man." Misaky mumbled back absentmindedly in admiration.
They flew through the forest and during that wild ride to whatever destination they had, the stranger raised a query about his story. Misaki named him Father Frost, albeit the man had but a few wrinkles around his eyes, too young for the title. But who knew how the real king of winter looked alike.
Next, the honest soul, seeing no reason to do otherwise, told him how and why he was sent to town to find his new living and education at the university his brother had chosen for him, even though the road there was not that straightforward. He needed to pass his pre-qualification test yet, then later on an entrance exam. It hadn't come unnoticed to the sensitive youth that the silver brows were furrowing more and more with each sentence he let out from his mouth.
"In three weeks you are saying," repeated the man in thoughtful tone. "Let's prey you will be able to get there in time. But about that we are going to worry later, "his tone changed to enthusiastic, almost bouncy, "because we are here, in my little kingdom in the bosom of the mother nature!"
The boy took in his surroundings, his emerald eyes glittering with wonder like those of a little child who was taken aback by magic. And again, he reached for his favorite book, turned pages and quickly skimmed along the lines filled with description of… what undoubtedly lay in front of him, in the middle of the woods.
Amidst the trees and shrubs clad in hoarfrost, each tiny crystal reflecting the heavy blue from sky, sat an old fashioned log house under a pointy gabled roof that almost touched the ground. Two smaller cottages and a barn filled the lovely image of the homestead hidden under the thick blanket of snow. Even the tall glass panels of the windows were sprinkled with snowflakes, frosted in pretty patterns, looking like curtains of frozen flowers.
They stopped in the middle of the courtyard. "You can move around freely and claim any of the unused bedrooms, just avoid to enter the small lodge at the right side of the main house."
"Understood."Misaki nodded obediently, so overwhelmed he was even to ask why. Recalling the warning words of the Father Frost from the story, he imagined something rather precious, and maybe dangerous, was hidden there from eyes of an ordinary mortal.
-"In my scepter lies the power of the winter that spreads frost. Whoever touches my scepter shall never wake up again. They would in an instant freeze to death."-
"Now, " the men craned his neck toward the sky heavy with steel colored clouds, " if you want, go and warm yourself in the outdoor hot spring briefly, as it looks, we won't get to bathe so soon again."
"Misaki…My name is Misaki." The boy piped in.
"I know," came a bewildering answer. "I know you people around."
"But I've never met you, never heard about you…"
"That surprises me; I stay here every winter, everybody knows me. After all I'm quite well-known, wherever I go."
Misaky raised an eyebrow at a lordly manner that seemed to be so natural for the silver haired stranger. It only added to the boy's foolish suspicion about the fantastic origin of his existence.
"Well, maybe if you sometime did lift your nose from the books, you would notice me." The man said self- assuredly and turned on his heels, leaving Misaki as if he forgot about him from one second to another, or as it appeared, he remembered somebody else." Just go, I bet you can find the hot pool yourself. I have to take care of my four-legged friends."
Ashamed, Misaki felt at the true words, he wanted to prove that he had interested also in the real world, especially the one that surrounded his mysterious savior. Thus he ran through the snowy courtyard after the supposed Father Frost, "Wait I can help!"
One, two and three…, one…He could not count them, the little furry creatures. They wouldn't stay still, crawling and scrambling, and hiding around their mom, seated in a small heap of straw next to the box stalls. He could not even pet them as another furry friend of the man jumped and barked around, preventing the boy from getting too close to the newest addition in the barn.
"You eat them?" Misaki blurted out in shock.
"Oi no! I go for my supplies to your town." The violet eyes sparkled with humor "Over there," the man pointed with hand, holding the brush he was grooming one of the horses with, at the basket near the entrance, "take some cabbage leaves and feed the mother. That's what I do all winter, taking care of them as they somehow always find the way inside. Little Paw shall be more friendly when he sees you doing the same."
Though reddened to the tips of his ears from embarrassment, Misaki did as he was asked. All the time, while petting, one after another, the little bunnies and Little Paw, which calmed down by then, he was thinking that perhaps Father Frost was not the most appropriate name for the man who, except the threes, helped all the vulnerable living things to get through the winter. But before he could start to think of a new name, he was ushered out to take a bath.
As he learned, the steaming pond under the bower of pine threes was not the only one. In the kitchen another hot stream gushed from a stone fountain for the household use, so the master of the homestead didn't need to heat drinking water he had from the well outside.
The man brought him clean clothes and a heavy fur coat, cutting short Misaki's time in the pleasant heat that seeped into his every bone and colored his alabaster skin into a fine rosy hue. Oblivious and heedless he usually was of apprizing looks sent to his direction, but when he caught the violet eyes following with fascination the unruly waves of his chocolate hair, damp and splattered along his pale long neck, he became self-conscious of his indecency and hid himself completely under the water.
"I don't believe you would harm me, anyway." He confided to the man after his shameless remark that admiring was not going to harm him.
"No I won't, but that doesn't mean I can't bask in your beauty."
Oh, how many times his fairy tale hero in flesh made him blush today?! Avoiding the further proclamations, that strangely warmed his insides as the bath itself, the boy would like to divert their attention to something else.
"From the looks of the weather I might be stuck here for a longer time; I…have some money to pay…," Misaki started uncomfortably about the topic he never used to discuss, since he had no need to pay for anything of that matter until now.
"Money is of no value here, Misaki."The man said his name the first time and it rolled out of his tongue experimentally, as if he wanted to taste its sound. "More valuable would be your help with the chores around the house. Living here, you are going to see, is a bit of labor."
The days went by and Misaki grew better at handling the house without the conveniences of a modern civilization. He prepared their meals, cleaned the place and maintained the fire in the fire places and the fire chamber to keep the heat under the floors flowing. And day after day, the man, meanwhile nicknamed Usagi-san for his love of the furry creatures, brought the water into the kitchen, stacked up the wood in the rooms and sought in his library the materials Misaki needed for his studies. And day after day they sit a little bit closer to each other on the cushy sofa in the living room, next to the fire place, where they spent their quiet evenings reading and studying together. And at the end of the fourteenth day, not even Suzuki-san, Usagi's favorite teddy bear, was taking a space between them.
Time around each other was passing fast while Misaki, to his satisfaction, was learning peculiarities of his savior's life. Yet, some of the man's doings remained unknown to the boy. The silver haired mystery used to leave their home during the day or night and be gone for hours, then come back so tired that he fell asleep sooner than he managed to explain his whereabouts. With still raging snowstorm around, first, those disappearances made Misaki worried, later, intrigued when the man returned unaffected by the biting wind or frost, and at last, mighty curios when he carried on doing it regularly, as if he disappeared to do his everyday job.
Even at the start of the stay, his by some miracle fulfilled wish to speak with Takahiro, who called minutes after Misaki had divulged his desire to the man, just fueled his imagination about magical powers of his savior. Coincidence? It plagued the poor boy to the point where, despite his respect for the older, he had to ask if he might really…really be what he always was in Misaki's mind, the Father Frost.
"Um, Usagi-san? Misaki uttered into the silence disturbed only by the muted swish of the wind behind the windows.
"Yes?" The asked uncurled his long lean body from the armchair before he lifted the sharp violet eyes from the sketch in his lap. Indulging in drawing all night became the latest habit of his. Whenever he caught Misaki engrossed in a book, he would pull away from the boy's warm side to face him and his hand would move swiftly behind a cardboard pad holding paper to work on shapes and shadows, until his finger pads would become completely black with charcoal or graphite pencils. Yet Misaki never saw any of his creations.
"Are…are you," the boy stuttered, thinking how the best to formulate his question that would not sound foolish, "by any chance taking care of the forest?"
"Huh?" They both ended up looking confused; each one for a different reason perhaps: Misaki over the man's surprised reaction and Usagi-san, well, they had never discussed what he was doing all those time while they weren't together. He must have thought that Misaki had never the need to know. What's more, he didn't want to know even his real name!
"Oh no! No, I live here because nobody bothers me and I take strength and inspiration from the beauty of the nature and the life of the people around."
"Inspiration for what?" Misaki perked up, almost jumped on the couch, persistent now to get to the bottom of the riddle called Usagi-san.
"For my work. I'm a writer. That's what I do for living. "Afterward, as Misaki face changed to utterly disappointed by the answer, he straightened up and, with his head high, added."I'm a famous writer."
A weak "ah" was the boy's only response for the boosting. "And that little cottage on the side, which I can't enter…"Misaki tried to connect the pieces of information.
"…is my study. I keep my work space in my own order, that's why I don't like anybody to touch anything there."
Misaki's frowned more and more with each passing second. He was heartsick let's say that, because deep in his romantic soul, against all odds, he still wanted to believe that he was lucky to meet a true fairy tale hero. And he was angry, because truly, he proved himself being just an immature boy. Not really interested to sit with an ordinary writer further, he stood up with intention to sulk over the reality and at own naivety in his room.
"Please don't! Can you stay a bit longer with me, even I'm not whoever you thought me to be?" The little smirk showed the man could read him as an open book." I would like to finish this, "he turned the sketch toward Misaki.
Usagi-san was drawing him. His languid body in the pond, bathing! Misaki darted forward and with one swift grab he tore the sketchbook out of Usagi-san's hand. There was another and another, pages of him sleeping, cooking or reading; him, with face cheery, gloomy, or dreamy…the last two weeks of his life recorded in black and white.
"Oi, what's this?!" Stunned, he dropped the drawings on the Persian carpet before panic started to raise in the back of his mind.
"As I said, I can admire a beauty from afar and the way I deem appropriate." Usagi-san answered, looking at him confidently from his regal height.
"Shouldn't you rather write about it, since you are a writer? And an accomplished one?"Misaki shot back irritated by a sudden show of smugness, not that this feature of Usagi-san lay dormant for all the time. It resurfaced on occasion during Misaki's evening tutoring, which he dismissed infatuated by the idea of man's fairy-tale prominence.
"Please stay," Usagi-san implored. Gone was his superiority in an instant, replaced by a soft glint in his lavender eyes. "Let me finish. That's how I'll have something of you even when you are gone."
So, he stayed. He stayed for the next half of a week, sulking every day less, less taking refuge into the imaginary world of the Father Frost and more impatiently waiting for the man to emerge from his secluded study. Misaki observed hard the supposed famous writer, and throughout that observation, he became painfully conscious of his charm, and not only charm of his character, while Usagi-san tried to make up for the omitted introduction.
"I arranged my winter residence after my favorite fairy tale." He said once at the dinner table and avidly explained why he rebuilt a little forgotten homestead into this magical place. "I fulfilled my boyish dreams after I had finally decided to do something what would have made me happy, not the people around. And, at that time-seven years ago, I had already all the means for doing so."
Misaki caught himself following his every movement, lingered his eyes, here and there, on the man's soft lips when they stretched into a thin line in a genuine smile. He even tried to imagine how Usagi's nimble fingers would feel at an accidental touch against his hand. How would his skin feel like? Hot as of a human or cold as of the Father Frost?
But as all things in the real world come to an end, the last storm of the winter died down, the roads were cleaned for the traffic flow and Misaki concluded he would not overstay his welcome. It was time to part. Usagi-san, surprisingly with regret, could only consent for the boy to go and find his place in the town. He escorted him to the bus stop, giving him a crisp white envelope. "The card with a useful address is inside," he only said. "If anything else fails, don't despair, it is a good place to stay, safe."
This time, the bus came as scheduled.
The city was flashy, noisy and looked like it never slept. There, cold white of winter gave way to fresh greenery of spring, and as the nature itself, also this giant human hive was waking up from the frozen slumber, buzzing with activity wherever the boy turned his eyes. Mitsuhashi University, the school his parents had graduated from, the school which he should make his alma mater soon, surpassed even the best of his fantasies. He looked in wonder around the grounds that teamed with young people. They were laughing, talking with glee or chattering with hushed voices in the corners, involved in some secrets perhaps, or even reading with zeal in the cafeterias and along the hallways, absorbed in their books and completely oblivious to their surroundings.
The friendly atmosphere left him in a relaxed, even spirited mood, wishing he could make the school his home for forever or at least for a very long time. He suddenly realized that's how he had felt in Usagi-san's sanctuary as well. However, Misaki was far from being a university student yet, but getting a taste of what it would feel like, just pushed his determination to be admitted, before the summer starts, into this wonderland.
He had more than a few obstacles to overcome.
To his misfortune or not, the boy found soon out that with the money he possessed a cozy lodging, nice like he had used to live in with Usagi-san, were out of his reach. And so disappointed and tired of trying to find a sleep in shabby rooms at the outskirts of the town, Misaki was dragging his feet up the stairs of an impressive, high-end condominium building. It was shiny, raising tall toward the sky; a house of glass sat on its top looking to the imaginative boy like a castle on a concrete mount.
Crumpling in his sweaty palm the card with a name and address, his last hope, he lingered in front of the door with the correct number. He liked it here, only, it wasn't like he could afford living in such luxury, which Usagi-san must have known. Why did he sent him to this place? On the other hand, he was cold, worn out and simply desperate for a little bit of comfort and warmth, thus, he reached for the bell.
His hand halted in its movement when he heard familiar bark approaching from another side of the wall… Little Paw?! Now curios, Misaki forcefully knocked on the solid- wood door.
"You?!" A high pitched boyish voice, mingled with a happy howling of the fluffy Terrier, filled the hallway as the door opened. "You are Akihiko-san?!"
"What took you so long?" Usagi-san rebuked him warmly from the entrance to what, at the first glance, must have been a penthouse. He was not the same men from the woods as Misaki remembered, clad in blue suit pants, dress shirt with vest and a yellow tie, loose around his neck, Usagi–san looked so...the boy blushed in his mind...attractive indeed.
"You said it would be a safe place, good to stay," as an anxious child, Misaki fidgeted on the pink sofa in the middle of the extensive living room where Usagi-san seated his guests. But instead taking place by Misaki's side, like he had used to do, he kneeled in front of him, sought his gaze.
"That's true it's safe, here, where I live for most of the year." He stared into the boy's face with honest eyes.
"But I can't afford this," Misaki started to count; "Even if I work, I doubt I would be able to earn enough for food, maybe for a modest rent. And there is the tuition to pay! Ah, who is going to take care of that when I can barely take care of myself?" he ranted on, desolated.
Usagi-san's long fingers curled over his shaking ones. They were warm, human-like, Misaki found out at last… So that's how he feels.
"That would be me. I promise to take a good care of you if you would only allow it, Misaki." This once his name rolled smoothly out of the man's lips.
The boy's spirit lightened, and to his own surprise he felt the strong need to shout out about his unexpected happiness from full lungs for everyone to hear, and yet, so overwhelmed he was by own baffling emotions that not a peep came out of his mouth.
Usagi hold on his hand tightened, while he waited in vain for the answer. "As I said, money here have no weight and we can hold onto our original arrangement. "He let out a dejected sight as Misaki still kept silent. "I'll do anything for you, except the one. I can't pass the university entrance exam instead of you, but, I can help you to succeed. What do you say?"
Call it courage or stupidity, to believe the man who he knew for a few weeks with his future…or luck.
But it must be pointed out that the man never harmed a hair on his head, yet somehow, whenever he had a chance, he had enjoyed to ruffle the boy's chocolate locks with his large hand and Misaki, for some reason, loved him doing that as much.
He said yes; not really said. After puffing out a big gulp of air as if a heavy weight was lifted from his chest, Misaki firmly nodded. The man must have cast on him some potent spell, since he let Usagi-san lift his hand to those faintly smirking mouth and place a kiss into his small, now, a very warm palm. Then Misaki let him kiss his eyes, his cheeks, and finally his lips, though quivering, they parted of their own accord under the man's bewitching touch.
He was beginning to tremble all over his body and gasp for the breath when he found himself pulled abruptly to his feet. "Come, I'll show you around my second home." Usagi –san said, considerate enough to save him from a suffocating as it became apparent that Misaki couldn't take more of his ardent ministration. The man had just tried to make up for the lost two weeks without his boy.
"I would like to see your study," requested Misaki, exhaling the words instead of voicing them, still strangely breathless yet certainly intrigued and eager to repeat this play with their tongues again…and again.
He was shown room after room in Usagi's castle in the sky, bathed in golden rays of the setting sun that glowed in each and every shiny surface they touched. The loft was modern one, but full of toys and books, certainly appealing to the boy who also carried the spirit of a child in a part of his heart. Without a doubt he would love living in here as much as he had in the Usagi-san's refuge amidst the woods.
At last they stopped in the study, where little happy sparks flicked through Misaki's eyes as they skimmed in amazement the long rows of shelves of Usagi-san's library. He stepped carefully over the heaps of paper on the ground to pull aside the blinds on the floor-to-ceiling windows so he could see all the man's treasures and well-guarded secrets in a full light. The one at the edge of the desk caught his attention. Misaki read a few lines from the top page of, in all likelihood, a freshly printed manuscript.
And as before, curios beyond limits but still trying to be polite, he struggled for right words to ask, afraid of offending Usagi-san, "By any chance, have you written this?"
Yes was the plain answer.
He must have looked rather surprised, mildly interested but indeed mighty scandalized standing there with the trembling sheet of paper in his hand. "So this is what you…this is what you needed inspiration for? Not able to contain himself any longer he half asked, half accused the man, then, despite himself and his good manners, burst out.
"Usagi-san! I think…you are a crocked man! A pervert!
It didn't strike the nerve though, Usami Akihiko just grinned at a half-hearted reprimand. "Ah, but a moment ago you seemed to be content in my arms. What are you blaming me for? How can you, delicate, beautiful and kind boy not to be my inspiration for such a passion?"
Cautiously, the writer stepped closer, "My little one, there are lots of special things in the world you need to learn, and not all of them are in the books you read. Those are the children's tales, these, "he glanced at the stacks of pages on his desk, "are the tales for adults. Would you not like to be a part of them?"
"And as you'll know me better you'll recognize that what you see as corruption now, is actually my worship for you and love.
The meaning of worship Misaki knew and could understand; there were otherworldly, divine beings he was taught to respect and revere from the childhood age, and the being an object of a special someone's worship... Let's be honest, the idea warmed him around the heart more than a little.
The love, he yet desired to experience. One look back into their short history and one look forth at the earnest expression of Usagi-san was enough for him to set aside the lingering insecurities he had had. He was swept, certain this declaration didn't fall from deceptive mouth. He was swept by emotions that also shone from Usagi-san's countenance, emotions so vivid in his intense violet gaze, an avalanche of emotions he wanted to know and taste and, like a snow flake, Misaki was swept by its force. The boy lifted his expectant eyes…
In one long stride Usagi-san crossed remaining distance between them to convey with his actions what words could not.
A year had passed and Misaki learned a lot of things: those practical and necessary, and sometime unpleasant, making his life rather difficult, but also those exiting and 'unspeakable', and every time much enjoyable, making his life absolutely magical.
He and Usagi-san had explored untried and learned about each other enough that one day they came to a mutual consent. This decision led them to the doorsteps of Misaki's family house.
There, they stood in discreet silence, waiting for Manami to shake off the shock from seeing Misaki next to the famous writer.
"What is this? She pointed at the manila envelope in Misaki's hand, unable to stop sneaking sidelong glances at well-dressed man and his costly red sport car, boldly parked on their driveway.
"It's the wedding invitation,' Misaki bowed with respect, and with both hands offered her the envelope. " Please, we would be very honored if you accept."
Badly hidden envy distorted her otherwise smooth and sweet countenance, when she finally directed her gaze at her young brother-in-law. And Misaki, toughened by the real life, as she had always wanted, stared at her back, stared into the women face or rather through her, in both, the literal and figurative sense. What he saw fitted squarely into his favorite fairy tale.
-Somebody opened the gate, voices were heard laughing and talking outside. The old woman looked out and sat down in an unpleasant amazement. Instead of being gone and dead, her stepdaughter was there like a princess, bright and happy in the most beautiful garments, and behind her the old man had hardly strength enough to carry the heavy, heavy trunk with gems and the rich outfit, all presents from the Father Frost.-
"Oh Manami, how can you keep the guests outside!" Takahiro rushed from the hallway and to Misaki's surprise, disregarding the usual formalities toward the strangers, he spontaneously crushed his beloved brother and his suitor in a warm welcoming hug.
Later on, when Usagi–san succumbed to his occasional need for a cigarette, Takahiro led him away from their little celebration in the living room to the porch at the back of the house. They observed together first snowflakes of the season fall lazily from the steel blue sky.
"Thank you." Takahiro broke off first the comfortable silence.
"You are welcome." Usami Akihiko turned, flashing his genuine smile with air of a self-assured determination to his long-time friend, then watched how it in response brought a grin of similar quality to Takahiro's handsome face.
"Oi, " Misaki's brother punched Akihiko playfully in the arm, "but when I said, take care of him, I didn't mean that kind of care!"
"Hm, leave it Usagi-san I have important things to write, I feel creative right now," Misaki wiggles the pencil in the air for Akihiko to see it from where he lies, behind him on the fluffy wool rug in front of the fireplace. He can`t continue with a hot tongue wandering idly along his bare buttocks. Up and down, the relentless tease keeps his maddening ministration.
"Huh? What is more important right now than to have a good, lazy fuc…
"Ahhh, don't!" He yelps after Akihiko decides to be more persistent and sharp teeth bite the sensitive skin of his backside. Not enough to harm, just to capture Misaki's interest. He hasn't succeed. Yet.
"Don't you ruin my creative mood!"
"What are you exactly writing about? ...oh I get it! You are writing about your life experience. Write about this," Akihiko smirks and... Misaki's pencil slips away as he gets creative as well, when his sleek tongue changes its trajectory, slips into an inviting crevice between the boys two rosy globes and dares even deeper...
This once, just an incoherent squawk escapes from Misaki's mouth. His body feels loose and wet, and oversensitive from the previous round, he doesn't need much preparation for the next, and naturally, his lover shares the same opinion. Licking and nibbling he crawls upon the boyish narrow frame to plants his elbows firmly on both sides of Misaki's arms.
The familiar splash of freckles on Misaki's shoulder blade steals his eye's attention for a moment before he brushes his lips lightly against the bony shoulder, which is suddenly in his way. "Can I see?" Akihiko tries to peek over, at the heavily written page of notebook before them. "The tale of my life," he reads the title with a husky voice while he smoothly slides into his lover.
"Yeah," Misaki, thrown into yet another hard shudder, breathes out to the fluff of the carpet.
"Yeah to the tale, or yeah to this?" Now that husky voice descends to a sultry growl when its owner pulls himself almost completely out of the delicate body, then shoves fully in with one languid stroke.
"Yes…that's about my…, my life experience." Misaki pushes against his lover's movement in sync, thrusting against the friction, grazing against his thighs; he loves to play along Akihiko's games.
"Hm… do you want me to help you with it? Give you a bit of inspiration perhaps? I can make your experience into a fairy tale." Akihiko keeps his deliberately slow pace, his motions like gentle waves and the sensation of bit-by-bit rising pleasure makes it hard to answer without a hitch in one's breath. The high time to let Akihiko win, Misaki smiles when Akihiko can't see him. Done with the writing for time being, he pushes his notebook sloppily away and stretches, bows like a cat under his husband, his, albeit not a fairy-tale but nonetheless, hero. Let him enjoy his honeymoon, after all, Misaki enjoys it immensely himself.
"No, enough of fairy tales Usagi-san, make it very…very real, "he mewls and turns around for a kiss.
Thanks for reading. I put a lot of effort into this one,if you have found some wierdness, please point it out, if you liked it, please let me know:)