On Another Path

Chapter Four: Turning Round

Wrapped in the dim light of Akihiko's study the two men rested together. Hiroki had stopped weeping some time ago but had still not turned back to face his friend.

They had both been lightly sleeping, each exhausted from their various exertions, when Akihiko was roused. He suddenly felt Hiroki's body start and stiffen again in his arms. Akihiko gathered his new lover in tighter and kissed the brunet nape before him. He hung his head over Hiroki's shoulder and nuzzled in behind his ear, then Akihiko stilled himself and waited.

Hiroki awkwardly pulled himself up, out of Akihiko's embrace. For a moment he remained half-sitting, both he and Akihiko remained silent. Then Hiroki gathered his knees to his chest; he bowed his head, and crossed his arms over it.

"I have to go," Hiroki mumbled beneath the shelter of his limbs.

Akihiko sighed and stretched, preparing to rise. As he stood up, he picked up the crumpled blindfold lying beside him. His long fingers gently worried the silken fabric: his discarded shroud. Looking down on his friend now, he longed to take hold of the man again but Hiroki looked so fragile in that instant, Akihiko feared that even his slightest touch might shatter him, so instead, he made his way to the door.

Hearing his movements, Hiroki slowly lowered his arms, lifted his head, and turned. He watched Akihiko prepare to leave the room. It seemed safe since Akihiko had his back to him now. Hiroki's heart stopped and his breathing faltered as he took in this vision: the young author's bare broad muscular shoulders, the slender waist and long legs set off by the now severely wrinkled, tailored black slacks that his friend currently favored. The blindfold dangled limply from Akihiko's right hand. A wave of vertigo washed over Hiroki and he was filled with a sudden and dreadful sense of déjà vu.

He watched as Akihiko gently draped the blindfold over the knob of his study door. With this simple gesture the terrible spell that had gripped him was broken.

Akihiko paused in the threshold.

"I'm going to take a shower." His silver head turned back towards Hiroki. He flashed a slightly crooked smile and cocked an eyebrow.

"Join me?"

At these words Hiroki released a long-held exhalation. His heart resumed its motion though its beat felt slightly erratic. Akihiko turned away again and drifted languidly down the hall.

In the pattern that had been set by countless years of longing, Hiroki erected himself a moment later and silently followed.

Akihiko was already under the spray by the time Hiroki reached the bath. Though they showered together, each man washed himself separately. Akihiko noticed that when Hiroki entered, he still chose to keep his back to him. Reading the slight hunch of the man's shoulders, though Hiroki's withdrawal chafed him, Akihiko knew better than to be impatient. He understood implicitly that his friend would turn back to him when he was ready.

Still, beholding Hiroki from behind, noting his wild mane weighted flat and so wetly dark, the rounded knob at the base of Hiroki's neck accentuated by his lowered head, the glistening drops of water rolling down the lovely curve of his spine, connecting further down with swell of his ass, Akihiko felt himself stirring again.

Hiroki had been scrubbing Akihiko's essence from the inside of his thighs when he suddenly felt his unrequited's body press against him. Akihiko's large hands, strangely heated by the shower, wrapped around his chest. Soapy nipples slid between slick fingers. Hiroki raised his hands and pressed his palms against the shower wall. Akihiko's new arousal nudged him; he felt dripping lips at his ear's edge and then, that amazing voice.

"Hiroki."

"No, Akihiko… I have to go…" but even as he growled this, Hiroki's hips slid to the side and a lathered hand reached back to grasp Akihiko's shaft. One of Akihiko's hands simultaneously slipped down.

"It feels more to me like you need to come."

Their joined gasps were hidden beneath steam and spray as their hands stroked in tandem. Hiroki came first, his knees all but buckled by the jolt. Akihiko's strong arm held him up. Despite this momentary weakness, Hiroki's hand did not lose its rhythm. After a few more minutes, Akihiko collapsed against him, pressing him into the tiled wall as his own shuddering climax overtook him. The two stood there, their slick sides heaving together, then Hiroki pushed back.

Akihiko stepped back releasing Hiroki and watched as Hiroki returned almost immediately to continuing his ablutions. Finished with his own after another quick rinse, Akihiko stepped out, leaving his friend alone.

When Hiroki finally exited the bath he saw Akihiko sitting on the couch: his torso leaned back against the cushions, his long legs stretched out and resting on the coffee table. Still clad only in his towel, Akihiko was smoking, exhaling perfect rings with practiced ease. Hiroki had long thought it was a rare movement of the youngest Usami that did not seem somehow poetic and this picture only reinforced his conviction.

Akihiko was similarly studying his friend through the smoke. One of Hiroki's finely boned hands clutched the towel at his waist as he moved back into the study. Hiroki emerged a moment later, fastening the dark dress slacks he had been wearing before their encounter though his torso remained bare. The towel he'd worn was now draped around his long neck, over his slighter but still broad shoulders. Akihiko was pleased to see where the patterns of his mouth still lingered on Hiroki's skin.

"I need to borrow a shirt," Hiroki called as he headed from the study into the bedroom. Akihiko dropped his legs and pushed up from the couch. He ambled over and stood in the doorway watching as Hiroki sifted through piles looking for a clean shirt. Hiroki unwound the damp towel from his neck and threw it him; he caught it easily.

"Honestly, Akihiko, if you're not going to keep up after yourself you should at least hire someone to do it." Hiroki muttered as he continued to search. Akihiko snorted, dropping the towel on the already littered floor.

"As if your place is any better." Akihiko was delighted when Hiroki met his eyes with a scowl and an indignant retort.

"At my apartment the only real mess is my books!" Hiroki held a shirt out for approval. Akihiko nodded as he exhaled another ring.

"You're going to drown in that shirt, Old Man," Akihiko intoned using the rare English affection. He watched Hiroki turn away from him again, as he pulled the shirt on and began to roll up the overlong sleeves.

"I am not that much smaller than you, Akihiko!" Hiroki's cheeks pinked as he growled this.

"Anyways, thanks to your enthusiasm, the shirt I was wearing is now missing about half its buttons and I don't fancy traveling half-naked across Tokyo to get home."

"Then don't." Akihiko stepped up behind him. Hiroki paused in his actions and turned back around to face Akihiko with a frown of quizzical apprehension.

"Don't go, Hiroki. Stay here with me tonight." There was an anxious note of promise in Akihiko's voice.

"I can't, I have an outline due tomorrow and all my books are at my apartment." Hiroki dropped his eyes as he said this and began fumbling with the shirt's buttons. Akihiko moved in closer and covered Hiroki's hands with one of his own.

"Then I'll drive you to your apartment and you can get them and we'll come back here."

Hiroki glanced up for just a moment. Though Akihiko's face was still, there was a chaos of feeling barely contained within his pale eyes. Hiroki understood immediately what it was that he saw. Despite all that had happened, Hiroki still felt unsure of what exactly it was Akihiko was offering him, but he realized that in their time together that afternoon the shell of the other youth's isolation had been split and Akihiko had no desire to return to his chrysalis of solitude.

He, however, needed solitude now: he had to think.

"No, Akihiko, that will take too much time, I'm going to have to pull an all-nighter as it is now.

"Besides," Hiroki stepped forward and out from under Akihiko's hand. "You have your own paper to write and a book to finish. Correct?" He slid past his friend, moving into the hall. Akihiko said nothing as he followed Hiroki out into the other room. He went over to the butt-filled ashtray on his coffee table and stubbed out his cigarette. After doing this he joined his friend in the entry way. Here, Hiroki was seated on the floor, his forehead furrowed, in the process of putting on his shoes.

Hiroki stood, grabbed his sport coat off the hook near the door and started pulling it on. He stopped halfway through, however, and reached out a hesitant hand and grazed Akihiko's cheek.

"Look, I'll call you later and maybe we can get together after classes tomorrow... If your book is finished," Hiroki qualified. He didn't really want to leave, but he knew that he must. It was too dangerous for him to stay here at the moment. Akihiko said nothing, then he nodded slowly.

"Okay…"

Hiroki was glad they had reached an agreement. He looked down as he resumed donning his coat only to be surprised by the feel of a cool hand suddenly lifting his chin. Akihiko moved in as he tipped Hiroki's face up. He leaned in and captured Hiroki's mouth with a kiss that was both tender and desperate.

"Tomorrow then," Akihiko whispered as he released his friend.

"Yeah, tomorrow," Hiroki mumbled, blushing anew as he reached for his book-weighted bag. He opened the door and stepped out of the apartment. His last vision of Akihiko was of him standing sober-faced in the door frame.

Hiroki turned and headed down the hall. Behind him he heard the door close; the latch, as it caught, whispered like a ghost.

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