A/N: Hello, I want to thank everyone who reviewed. I'm afraid that some of you expect something else from this story than what it's actually going to be, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.
I originally planned to write one long chapter, but it somehow split in two, the downside of which is that in this chapter you won't get to see any L. But the good thing is that the third chapter is almost finished and I plan to put it here on Sunday.
Chapter II – Weeds in Our Garden
Teru Mikami stepped into the small summer-house, noticing the layer of dust that piled on the furniture with a frown. It's been a while since he last went here, he had been busy at work or he spent weekends with Raito, who usually preferred to stay in the city. He actually visited this place only once, saying that watching Teru hoe his potatoes wasn't his idea of enjoyment.
Teru proposed that he could write in there – wasn't it just the kind of place writers secluded themselves in to enjoy serenity and solitude? To that Raito said that he was more inspired by the dynamics of city life.
Teru changed into a pair of well-worn jeans and a grey flannel shirt. He entered the garden through the backdoors and looked about him. There was always lot of things to do; to cut the branches, mulch the beds, clear the weeds.
It was just the end of April and the weeds had already grown high, suffocating other plants. He rolled up his sleeves and put on a pair of thick garden gloves. He kneeled down to set about his work, breathing in the smell of fresh soil. It put him at ease.
The only sound he could hear was just the soft murmur of the wind in the leaves and the chirping of the birds. He unconsciously heaved a sigh of relief.
It was nice to escape the annoying turmoil of the courtroom. It was not as if people were yelling at each other there like they showed it in TV dramas – this sort of emotional display was usually left for different fields of law than Mikami dealt with - but there was the constant humming of voices concerned about their business matters. He just had to walk down the hall and there was always a group of men in grey suits somewhere in the background, having a discussion in a quiet, composed manner. They could speak in figures instead of actual words and it wouldn't make a difference.
He remembered his naïve dream of bringing justice to the helpless and compared it with the work he ended up doing. There seldom now came a case that would make him feel agitated, like he really cared for its outcome. Rich corporations tried to rob other rich corporations of their dirty money and his job was to help them do that, or help their rivals prevent it, depending on who was paying him.
This world is rotting, a sentence from the beginning of one of Raito's earlier novels flashed through his head.
He imagined Raito in his place. The thing he would concentrate on would be the winning, that alone would bring him satisfaction.
He paused for a while, his eyes trailing to the heap of nettles that had grown by his side. They were all young and fresh and stung slightly even through the gloves.
He sat on the ground, stretching his back that had grown a little bit tense. He bent his head back and let the sun caress his face. The pale blue sky was high and lightened with yellowish glow. It descended on the garden, gliding over the leaves and blades of grass.
Teru closed his eyes.
…
They won the case and they were justified in having done so. That man really did breach the copyright law by using quite a lot of Raito's ideas without adequate credit. And it wasn't just an embellishment – the book would have fallen apart of he didn't use those stolen lines here and there.
"Good job, gentlemen," Raito addressed his lawyers with a bright smile, "may I invite you for a drink?"
They went to a classy bar and everyone got expensive drinks and cocktails – you can rely on lawyers to make the best of every situation, Raito thought with a smirk – except for a young man who was introduced to him as an apprentice lawyer who was just watching the case. He drank white wine.
"You have refined taste," Raito noted.
"Well, it's more like my alcohol tolerance is very low so I do not dare to experiment," Mikami explained.
Raito's golden orbs bore into the other's brownish green with unnerving intensity.
"That's wise of you, Mikami-san," he commented and took a sip from his blue drink.
"Just Teru is fine," he said without thinking and then mentally scolded himself. What was he thinking, proposing something like that when they barely knew each other. He hoped he didn't offend the writer.
But he couldn't help it; he really wanted to get to know him better. Throughout the trial Raito fascinated him with his confidence, self-control and the way he expressed himself, which was very smooth but at same time contained certain fierceness, like he was deeply convinced of the verity of everything he said.
"Well, then call me Raito," the writer said with a smile, "let's drink to it. You can have a vodka for a change, can't you? Just this once."
"If you insist." Teru found refusing very difficult, if one is faced with an almost angelic smile and eyes of a doe.
Their glasses clinked. Teru wanted to say something, but the only thing on his mind was cliché phrases like 'to this night!' He felt that he must refrain from saying anything like that, because an imaginative writer like Raito would undoubtedly find it unbearably banal.
The said writer himself didn't look as though he wanted to say anything at all. He sat there contently, looking at Teru with a little smile, his hand supporting his chin, and flickers of light danced in his eyes.
Right at that moment Hamaguchi, who led the case, said something that caught Raito's attention and so his gaze finally left Mikami, leaving him to his own devices.
Teru felt as though great weight was lifted from his shoulders, at the same time experiencing a vague feeling of lost.
I'm overreacting, he thought, that must be because of the alcohol.
He repaid Raito his previous scrutiny. The writer was talking in an animated way, his eyes radiant, no, it wasn't just them, his whole face was shining with some sort of an inner glow. Raito, that sounds just like the English word for light, Teru mused, the moonlight, he added when he recalled the kanji this name was written with. He took a sip of wine, his thoughts taking a way that was altogether unfamiliar to him. The moonlight was said to inspire obsession and insanity. And that was what he was starting to feel, obsession and even insanity. All it took was just to look at that luminous face, its vivid expression accompanied with rushed yet graceful hand movements.
Raito now seemed to make a joke of some kind, because the company roared with laughter.
"You're not enjoying yourself?" The writer startled Mikami with a sudden question.
"Yes, very much. It's impossible not to, in your company," he replied with a smile and then add, apologetically, "it's just that my thoughts keep trailing off."
"Oh, I see," Raito said, looking somewhat disappointed, "you're thinking about someone who's waiting for you at home."
"Not at all!" Teru denied forcefully, looked around to see if anyone wasn't paying them any attention and then added in much quieter voice:
"I'm thinking about you."
His gaze was fixed on his drink, but from the corner of his eye he could see Raito smiling.
It was getting late. The attorneys started to excuse themselves, because they had families waiting for them. Soon there were just the two of them.
Mikami glanced at his watch.
"I should be going, if I want to catch the last subway. It's about twenty minutes of walking from here."
Raito gave him an incredulous look.
"The subway? You haven't gotten here by car?"
"No, I haven't. Actually, I don't even have a car. I have no need to own one, because I live just three stations from my office. It's convenient, because I don't have to deal with traffic. I do have a driving license, though, in case a necessity might arise."
"I see. Well, let me drive you there. You shouldn't walk at night by yourself, especially in these expensive clothes."
With this Teru had to agree and they quitted the bar, Raito leaving a generous tip. While they were walking to the parking place the lawyer noticed that his companion's steps were more than a little bit unsteady; he actually had to hold onto Teru's arm from times to times, for otherwise he might have fallen.
"Is it alright for you to drive when you're like this?" the lawyer asked, worried, "I have a driving license too, so I can-"
"No. I wanna give you a ride," Raito grinned and there was no use in persuading him. They soon reached Raito's car, which turned out to be a silver Chevrolet, and drove off to the night.
"We're well past the subway station now," Mikami noted after a while.
"Of course we are. We're going to my place," Raito said with a smirk. On the second thought he added:
"If it's okay with you."
Teru was left speechless for a moment. Then he nodded. It was more then okay with him; actually, he had been thinking of something like that almost from the beginning of the evening, but he knew he would never gather the courage to initiate anything.
"Well, that's good," Raito said and increased the speed. He turned the music up loud and opened the windows, so that the cold night air lashed their faces.
Mikami was getting slightly nauseous; he vaguely remembered a party when one of his college friends made him drink tequila mixed with grape flavored Gatorade and then someone proposed a midnight ride to the beach. The world was now swirling in the similar way as then.
"You shouldn't be driving so fast," he yelled, trying to outvoice the noise.
Raito turned the music down and gave him a playful smile.
"But I want to get home as soon as possible," he said and gently pressed the other man's knee.
This made Mikami a little bit uncomfortable.
"Yes, of course, but still-"
"Don't worry, we're almost there," Raito said and in a minute or two they arrived at the underground parking garage of a huge apartment building. They went to the elevator.
It was there, in the cold, clear artificial light that lit the elevator when Teru finally became aware of what exactly he was doing. He was going to have sex with a man. After a first date that wasn't even a date. He, Teru Mikami, up to this day an honorable man, a perfect son, and a heterosexual.
He looked at Raito, who was leaning back against the wall in a slightly slacked posture with his hands in his pockets, obviously at ease. When Raito noticed Teru's gaze, he flashed him a smile - was it reassuring or just drunken? and said:
"You've never done this before, Teru?"
The lawyer felt his cheeks grow warmer. Was he that obvious?
"No. You're the first man I- well, you know," he finished awkwardly.
"It's okay. There's nothing to be afraid of," Raito told him and stepped close to him, his fingertips slightly brushing the side of Teru's face.
"By the way," Raito leaned to his ear, whispering: "I'm honored."
The elevator stopped and they left.
The writer's apartment was quite large and expensively looking. Its decor bore definite traces of artistic taste.
The most of the apartment consisted of one big room divided into dining, living and working section and a kitchen corner. The furniture was very modern and elegant, but also gave an impression of coldness. There were various painting on the walls; the most prominent one hanging above the sofa was a modern variation of some biblical theme. Masses of people with fierce expressions on their faces were raising their hands as if to reach something that couldn't be seen in the picture. Extremely vivid colors the painter had used made the whole impression somewhat disturbing. Teru averted his gaze.
"Do you want a drink?" Raito's voice called from a kitchen corner.
"No, thank you, I've had enough," Mikami said, even though a small voice in his head told him that it would be better if he drank some more. No, he told himself firmly, I want to be sober when it happens.
Meanwhile Raito made himself a vodka with juice and turned off all the lights except the kitchen one that illuminated only its closest surroundings, leaving the rest immersed in dusk.
Then Raito had to press something – but Teru didn't see him doing that – for a music started to play, this time an unobtrusive, pleasant melody.
The lawyer took off his jacket and carefully laid it down on an armchair close to him.
"You're not gonna stop there, I hope?" Raito grinned, he himself having rid of his jacket just after they had come in, as well as of his tie. He was now hallway done with unbuttoning his shirt.
Mikami didn't say anything because he was afraid that his voice might tremble. Instead he proceeded with undressing as well.
Already in his underwear Raito approached the other man, took his face into his hands and kissed him. His tongue slipped between Teru's parted lips, probing and tasting. Teru could see circles of colorful light behind his eyelids, the swirling feeling once again taking over him.
When he heard himself moan he was shocked how needy it sounded.
That sound stimulated Raito to deepen the kiss even more, his hands trailing down the other's abdomen. His fingers were now sliding down the material of Teru's boxers, feeling the other man's arousal.
When he started to stroke his erection, the lawyer was sure that his knees wouldn't support him any longer.
"Bed," he breathed hoarsely. Raito's dark chuckle resonated in his ears.
"Now aren't we hasty," Raito whispered, wrapping his hand firmly around Teru's throbbing length. Before Teru's knees had the chance to collapse, he found himself half dragged, half carried somewhere, where he was pushed on the bed and finally stripped of the last piece of garment he wore.
His moaning became almost hysterical when he felt his cock swallowed by hot wetness of the other's mouth.
"You… you don't have to…" he felt obliged to say, even when everything in him screamed Oh yes, just like that!
The ajar door let in a feeble streak of light that sent red flickers dancing into Raito's eyes. But I want to; I love this power I have over you, Raito's expression said as he leaned forward and in one slowed motion swallowed his whole length, his eyes never leaving Teru's that were foggy with pleasure.
This was more than he could bear; he came in Raito's mouth, pleasure hitting him like a tidal wave. Then he laid there completely spent, panting heavily, and his conscience was gradually coming back to him. He felt as though he was lying in heaven where god himself touched him with his supernal light.
The said god left his side in searching for something. When he returned, Teru barely had any time to think about what was the purpose of this detour before he felt a cool liquid substance being spread on his inner tights.
"I'll be gentle," Raito promised, one of his fingers already finding its way to Teru's entrance.
"Oh my God, you're tight," he whispered, his arousal mounting. He gave his lover almost no time to adjust to the unfamiliar feeling of intrusion before he inserted the second finger.
Teru let out a sharp hiss of pain. Raito kissed him soothingly into a corner of his mouth.
The delightful mixture of pain and pleasure on the lawyer's face was almost too much for him, but he managed to restrain himself. His fingers were slowly moving in and out, his other hand caressing the other man's cock until it was erect again.
He never stopped stroking his erection, his lips capturing Teru's. He slowly withdrew his fingers and placed his shaft at Teru's entrance. The he sank his length in with one powerful thrust.
Teru winced and whimpered into his mouth, shutting his eyes closed.
It was alien and painful. He tried to relax, but the sense of intrusion was almost unbearable. It grew even worse when Raito started to move, slowly but forcefully.
Then the sharp pain turned to dull ache. Together with the hand stroking him and the burning lips kissing his mouth Teru felt the pleasure taking its place and his hips started to thrust back in response.
Sensing this, Raito increased the speed, slamming deeper and deeper with each stroke. Teru opened his eyes. Raito's exquisite flushed face added to his pleasure and he came into his hand, his lover pounding him down to the bed with a violent vehemence until he too reached his orgasm, spurting his load into him.
Then they were lying there, still joined, their breath steadying and sweated bodies growing cold, until Raito lazily reached for a blanket and covered them.
"I hope I didn't hurt you," he whispered with a sheepish smile.
"No," Teru replied and suddenly what was meant to be a brave lie actually turned into the truth when said aloud.
He snuggled closer to Raito, who stroked his hair.
"I love you," Teru said.
Raito chuckled.
"Now, now, no need to use such big words," he whispered, his hand drawing gentle circles on the other's face and neck, "but I can't say that I dislike you, either. Do you want to repeat this some other time?"
Teru pulled him into a kiss by the way of answer.
…
Most of the weeds he put at the compost heap, so that they would decompose and later serve as nutrition for new plants. But there were some that couldn't be put there, such as those in full flower that might release their seeds, or poisonous plants that would ruin the whole compost.
For these he made a small fire and watched it burn, its white smoke curl against the darkening sky.
The night tuned to other nights and nights turned to days, eventually. That was how relationships like that worked, right? They started with accidental sex turning into habitual one and later came living together, because it saved time and expenses. That was all; usually no unnecessary emotions had to be involved. Their relationship had been developing exactly according to this scheme. Expect that from that very first night, Teru was in love.
I don't dislike you. Not exactly a confession. But it was just a one night then and besides, Raito as a writer saw these emotions in a different light – they were much less sacred to him because he had seen them from the inside, had to dissect them to be able to find their essence. When analyzed like that, even love inevitably loses part of its charm. At least that was how Mikami tried to justify it. Justification was the lawyer's strong point.
When all the weeds were burnt, he carefully poured some water on the ashes and walked away to the fence, opening a door that lead to a narrow pathway in the trees. He followed it.
TBC
