A/N: Work got insanely busy again, but I have a vacation coming up. I hope to post chapter 12 soon!
Chapter 11
Imbalance and Balance
Despite Tatsuya's concerns, he and Masaki did manage to take their hiking trip. In fact, after a lunch of warmed-over pizza, they had an excellent time on their outdoor adventure.
Three days later found Tatsuya in what he was beginning to see as his new safety zone: Dr. Manoru's office.
"I have a problem," he announced without preamble.
"And that is?" Dr. Manoru prompted.
"I can understand that sex is a bonding activity when two people are in love," Tatsuya said. "I don't feel love—or, at least, I don't think I do—but I am quite serious about my relationship with both Masaki and Miyuki. However, the one my body seems willing and interested in bonding to is Masaki. More than a chemical reaction or an act of experimentation, sexual activity with Masaki became a type of . . . emotional . . . expression this weekend." He still had difficulty believing he'd made it this far in his development.
Dr. Manoru smiled. "That's wonderful, and no doubt you are elated with your progress." She sat back in her chair a little more. "You would also be justified in being worried, taken off guard, and frightened. This is all new territory for you. When you came to me, you believed you were incapable of feeling as other people do. You had shut off your emotions to protect yourself. Now you are opening yourself up again. That is a risk; I believe that is why you view this development as a problem."
Tatsuya's gaze slid sideways to the fern in the corner. He had found it was his focal point when an answer was difficult. "I would like to protest and say no. But it is true that I am hyperaware of my new vulnerability. When I can keep people several degrees apart from me and merely engaged in solving a problem with me then I don't feel threatened." He sighed. "However, it is also a problem because my interest has landed squarely on Masaki. The man. Miyuki is in love with me and has been for years now. She's also my fiancé. I have promised her to do my best to see her as a woman and not a sister. And her reason for tolerating my relationship with Masaki is because it is supposedly helping me connect with her. But when I kiss her, I find myself still in the experimental stage, trying to figure out what will give her pleasure so I can do my duty once I am a husband."
"Miyuki's requests of you are normal, especially for a romantic partner who anticipates you as her husband." Dr. Manoru paused. "However, it is equally normal of you to be responding more constructively to Masaki. My understanding of him, based on your descriptions, makes it sound as though he is not pressuring you to be more than you are—or more than you want to be—in any given moment. In short, Masaki is letting you go at your own pace. It helps keep you more relaxed and curious rather than feeling pressured."
Tatsuya felt himself cringe. "If she thought she were pressuring me in any way, Miyuki would be horrified." He sighed. "I do feel warm when she hugs me. And it's not like I don't notice women. I've never lusted after one, but I certainly can distinguish who I find to be attractive or not." He paused as he realized his cultural indoctrination about lust and perversion was still exerting influence on him. "I have accepted that Miyuki is not disgusting for loving me and that neither is Masaki. I have allowed myself space to enter into these taboo relationships. But since I didn't expect to feel love or establish an emotional connection during sex, I suppose I still feel lost."
Dr. Manoru nodded. "This would particularly be the case, since your engagement to Miyuki is her idea, and your relationship with Masaki is yours."
"Actually, my engagement to Miyuki is our aunt's idea," Tatsuya said. "But Miyuki wishes for it as well, and it is true that I tend to give her want she wants." His brow furrowed. "However, it is also true that our culture believes a good husband attends to his wife's wishes and desires. My behavior toward Miyuki and my unusual level of physical affection have gotten me called a siscon several times. Perhaps my inclinations, while not driven by any conscious emotions, will still serve me once I'm married."
"Yet something about your relationship with Miyuki does make you uncomfortable, perhaps not consciously, since you have an easier time bonding with Masaki," Dr. Manoru said, "and you have retreated into distancing language describing your hope that your current level of affection towards Miyuki will be enough once you are married to her. I also find it interesting the way you have framed the idea of Miyuki's feelings towards Masaki. You seem to have defined tolerance as avoiding punishment for something someone doesn't want you to do, as a result of your cleverness in being able to come up with a justification."
Tatsuya cringed again. Dr. Manoru had caught him squarely, but he hadn't realized there was a problem. "I cannot deny your observations. Miyuki does hold the power to restrain my magic, although I have mostly figured out how to escape the binding on my own. I have also learned how to restrain her magic in an emergency. But the basis of our relationship is troubling. I have learned that Miyuki was created on purpose to be my wife because I was born 'broken.' But she also exists to bind my magic. I don't count as a magician in my family's eyes since I was 'born specialized.'" An odd, nearly icy sensation pierced his sternum, and he frowned. "While Miyuki had treated me equitably since I saved her life—and in fact refers to me with utter deference, insisting on addressing me with –sama—the foundation we began with was—"
And suddenly he found he didn't want to say it. More than simply cutting himself off, he felt himself freeze and just stare at Dr. Manoru.
"Flawed," Dr. Manoru said softly. Her eyes shone with empathy. "It was one of servant and master, not of love. That foundation complicated by the abusive household in which you were both raised. Furthermore, inequitably. Miyuki was praised and showered with affection. You were not. Miyuki was treated as natural. You were not. Miyuki was given external accolades for her magic, her beauty, and her right to exist. You were not."
"Yes, Miyuki really does love me," Tatsuya snapped. A burning sensation filtered through his chest and then faded away. He inhaled deeply, and realizing he was not ready to analyze this topic further, changed its trajectory. "Like Miyuki, Masaki comes from a home where he was given external accolades for his magic, his beauty, and his right to exist. And yet he has decided to champion me and my 'cause,' if you will. Masaki's love for me seems to motivate him to want to address the injustices in my life. I admit it is surprising he can even begin to comprehend me. As far as I can tell, all we share in common other than being born into wealthy families is experience on the battlefield. When he was thirteen, he fought in the Sado Island invasion."
Dr. Manoru looked thoughtful. "That is a unique experience to share in common. You both were child soldiers? Perhaps the only person who could access one of the integral pieces of your past and help you contextualize it is another survivor."
"Survivor?" Tatsuya had to admit to himself that Dr. Manoru had gotten him lost again. She had that ability. "I fought to protect my sister's life. I would say my sister is the war—well, battle—survivor, not I. She nearly died."
Dr. Manoru shook her head, and her expression was firm. "All child soldiers the world over are traumatized by their experiences. Full grown men and women are traumatized by military service. However, the effects on children are especially profound. Post Traumatic Stress is inevitable. Sometimes—perhaps many times—that turns into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A child's brain is still developing. The capacity for truly gray, complex thinking does not start developing until the age of about twenty-five. You and Masaki were both far too young to fully process what happened to you and all the deaths you were responsible for."
"Actually, I chose to—" Tatsuya stopped as the weight of Dr. Manoru's words dropped on his head. "Wait. You told me during my second session that I have PTSD from the surgery and from my enslavement by my family. But now you're saying that Masaki might have it as well because he was deployed as a child solider during the invasion." His brain whisked forward, the analysis launching immediately. "He was given the nickname 'The Crimson Prince' because by the end of the day, he was covered in the blood of his enemies. His family's top spell is Rupture, which explodes a human being from the inside-out." Dr. Manoru had Masaki's exact identity now, but Tatsuya knew she was bound to silence. "And you're saying his show of pride in his magical abilities and his defense of his nation might be a mask over his PTSD?"
Dr. Manoru smiled wryly. "Gratitude towards the armed forces, and the soldiers who personally protected them, is a common coping mechanism for civilian survivors. Soldiers tend to cope by taking pride in their abilities and in the justice of their patriotism in an effort to reassure themselves they can keep themselves safe from danger. You have done the same thing by declaring it was only ever Miyuki, and not you, who was in danger."
It was only Miyuki, Tatsuya thought, and yet the only reason Miyuki had nearly been killed in the first place had been the same reason they had all been in danger. Then the weight of Dr. Manoru's words sank through his head, down his neck, into his chest, and settled in his stomach. "Masaki said last weekend that compared to me he's a spoiled rich brat. He thinks his family is as close to perfect as humans can be, and certainly they sound wonderful. He doesn't see his own pain or trauma at all. In this way, he's as emotionally blind as I am."
"Ah." Dr. Manoru looked sad. "I suggest that deep down, that is one reason why he sought you out; you are able to see past that bright façade into the darkness Masaki struggles to contain. If you think it would help you bond with Masaki, why don't you try asking him about his experiences? You can do so indirectly by asking if he ever has nightmares. Intense nightmares are a common symptom of PTSD."
"The 'darkness,'" Tatsuya echoed, and in that moment, he saw the gap between Masaki and himself closing. He had wondered what Masaki saw in him, and he hadn't imagined he had anything of particular personal interest to give Masaki. Now he saw the possibility that they did exist in the same metaphorical world. "I will ask."
Again two weeks passed before Tatsuya and Masaki went on another date. Tatsuya spent part of that time analyzing the shipment of parts that the Ichijou intel network had intercepted, but the puzzle still wasn't fitting together. Tatsuya maintained the theory that Petrov meant to recreate Kichijouji's machine, and the parts didn't disprove the theory. Tatsuya would revise his hypothesis if he needed to, but until then, he felt safer assuming that Petrov meant to corrupt the machine and use it in a terrorist act.
Petrov himself stayed hidden and silent back in the New Soviet Union.
When Tatsuya's weekend date with Masaki rolled around, they decided to take it easy this time. They made a reservation at an onsen near Kyoto—one they'd hiked past during their trip up Mt. Hiei.
As usual, Masaki beat Tatsuya to the hotel. By the time Tatsuya arrived, Masaki had ordered them room service—a spread of sushi.
Tatsuya stepped in the door, saw the plates, and smiled at Masaki. Then he pulled Masaki into a hug.
Masaki hugged Tatsuya back tightly. When they parted, Masaki seemed pleasantly surprised. "That was the nicest greeting yet." He stroked Tatsuya's cheek, then pressed a gentle kiss to Tatsuya's lips. "You look like you're all right. But how do you feel?" He grimaced. "Or is that too awkward of a question?"
Tatsuya chuckled. "Not too awkward, no. Perhaps awkward in general since I'm still working with my brain and my body to figure this out. But not too awkward." He considered the question. "I feel glad to see you." He reached up and caressed Masaki's cheek in return. "I look forward to our dates." He leaned in and kissed Masaki, mouthing his lips gently. He lamented that Dr. Manoru was right; he was more comfortable with Masaki.
Masaki melted into the kiss, stroking Tatsuya's hair as he mouthed Tatsuya's lips as well. His other hand rested on Tatsuya's waist. When the kiss ended, he looked regretful, but he nodded towards the sushi. "We better eat, yeah?" He grinned. "Before we get distracted. There's not much we could do to save sushi left sitting out a while."
Tatsuya smiled. "We can't warm it up like pizza, no."
They relocated to the kotatsu table, sitting across from each other and selecting their favorites. Tatsuya had a preference for shrimp and octopus, and he also preferred sashimi over maki. However, for the most part, one couldn't go wrong with sushi in his opinion.
Masaki liked salmon and tuna maki the best, and he also seemed to prefer the egg nigiri. For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Then Masaki said, after taking a sip of tea, "I look forward to getting together, too." His expression was soft. "You're special, and not because you're so talented or anything like that. It's because underneath it all, I think you're a sweet guy. You've just been hurt. And I want to clear one thing up, because it's been worrying me that you might be thinking it now that I know what your home life is like. You're not less important to me than Jouji."
Upon hearing those words, Tatsuya felt a strange pang that he hadn't expected. "You have known Kichijouji far longer than you have me. If would not have hurt me if you still considered him more important. But I can see why you'd be concerned." He set down his chopsticks. "You are not less important than Miyuki, either." Then he huffed with amusement. "Sweet? Me? I don't think even Miyuki would say that. If there is a sweet one here, it is you."
Masaki chuckled. "There are different kinds of sweetness. Yours is the bittersweet kind, that's all. You've been tempered by a lot of things beyond your control." He set down his own chopsticks and took Tatsuya's hand, squeezing it. "That's all in the past. I'm going to make sure of it. You don't have to be alone anymore."
You're definitely the sweet one. Tatsuya squeezed Masaki's hand. Then he launched his plan. "You will not have to be alone, either. You know already that I fought in Okinawa when it was invaded, just like everyone is aware you fought on Sado Island. You carry with you 'the darkness'—the shadows that plague a child who has fought in a battle zone. You are not alone in that."
Masaki's eyes widened in shock for a split second. Then he held Tatsuya's hand tightly, practically in a death grip. He stared down at their joined hands. "Wow. I never thought you would talk about it. Ever." He snorted faintly and glanced up at Tatsuya with a small smile. "I should have known better. If it's taboo, you're bound to get into it somehow. You've always been bold like that. Still . . ." He shook his head. "I never expected you would bring it up. My father says we all have 'shadows' and it's better not to dwell on them." He frowned, and his gaze dropped again. "Actually, my father says to focus on the good instead. I try, but . . ."
Ten points go to Dr. Manoru, Tatsuya thought. "My therapist says I have PTSD from my surgery and Complex PTSD from the treatment I received from my family. She also says I may have experienced PTS or even developed PTSD from the battle at Okinawa. I resisted her initially, but I didn't understand that what I was experiencing wasn't normal. I'll be thinking about a CAD design, and suddenly the image of my mother's bodyguard dying will invade my mind. Or sometimes I'll have dreams about the entire battle. I'll dream Miyuki was killed after all. I'll dream that it was Miyuki who died to protect me while I was fighting. Because these images and dreams were not accompanied with overwhelming emotions, I thought little of it. But in truth, my brain is communicating with me about the trauma." He scooted around the table and sat by Masaki. "But for one like you, who can still feel emotions normally, such nightmares or 'shadows' must be worse."
Masaki had paled at the descriptions of Tatsuya's nightmares. Then, at Tatsuya's overture, he pulled Tatsuya close and wrapped an arm around Tatsuya's waist. He stared at the wall. "Yeah," he whispered. "I don't even tell Jouji all of it. I don't want him to worry. But seeing – " His whole body tensed, and he took a deep breath. "Like, I'll dream I've made a mistake and it's my dad who gets exploded instead. Or Ruri or Akane or Mom. Or – " He shut his eyes briefly. "Sometimes, the spell targets Jouji instead. I'm not aiming for him, but it happens anyway. Sometimes I'm at a weird funeral, and the coffins never stop coming. They just don't. The entire dream is me standing there while pallbearers carry coffins past me like rush hour traffic, end to end to end. All I do is stand there in a suit, and then I wake up knowing it's all the people I've killed."
"Tell Kichijouji," Tatsuya said. "And tell me. If it helps." He wrapped his arms around Masaki. "Dr. Manoru says that research shows child soldiers often develop PTSD. I looked into the research myself. There's over a hundred years of it. If I were capable of being appalled, I would be. But I am far more concerned for you than myself. The damage from my brain surgery dulled my trauma, although apparently the effect won't last forever. However, underneath your warrior's zeal, you are a kind soul. Don't let our cultural attitudes about men and magicians strip your claim to humanity from you. You're hurting. And if I may be so bold, let me say you need a therapist, too. And I don't just mean the ones at school. Their jobs are to reduce our anxiety or depression so we can keep casting spells. They're not actually paid to heal us."
Masaki laughed, but his voice cracked. "This is so ironic." He wrapped both arms around Tatsuya in return. "One secret reason I was so angry that I lost the Monolith Code to you was because that's when the dreams started. In the hospital, I thought I was just having a reaction to the medication. My ear hurt, and I had a wicked migraine. They shot me up with some pretty powerful stuff. The dreams came, but then they didn't stop. They haven't stopped since. Because for a few seconds there . . . " He paused. "I was sure I'd killed you. That's why I froze. You—an innocent student. And so it all came flooding out. I killed a lot of people in the invasion; I exploded them into blood spatters and pulp. And while I understand the necessity of protecting Japan, I secretly think to myself, 'I'm supposed to feel proud of that?'"
Tatsuya decided right then and there that he would never tell Masaki had he had nearly killed him. Masaki was in enough pain already, and Tatsuya had known all along that it had been an accident. At the time, Tatsuya had decided he'd taken Masaki off guard by rushing him so quickly, and Masaki had fired from instinct. Now Tatsuya knew better. He had startled Masaki—as in triggered Masaki's startle reflex that he'd developed from his PTSD. "Protecting Japan from invasion or not, you were a seventh grader shoved onto a real battlefield. I never considered it before, but we were too young. These things we carry . . . I have come to see that we shouldn't have to."
Masaki tightened his embrace of Tatsuya. "No. We shouldn't." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I was nervous when we left—packing a CAD for the first time, knowing it wasn't for practice—but I wanted to help protect my country. I wasn't even close to accurately imagining what a human body looks like when it explodes. It's more than blood and bone fragments. I could see bile, chunks of lungs, and several feet of still-intact intestines. Shit would splatter on the pavement. Half a brain. I'd see one remaining eye or the jawbone." His voice was tight. He'd resumed staring at the wall. "They say I was covered in blood. I was drenched in other people's blood. But also I was covered in their bile and brains. I was picking tiny bone slivers out of my boot laces. There was pulp packed in the treads of my boot soles. They had to hose me off with water before I could change clothes and shower. Then I had to be tested for blood-borne diseases."
Not daring to speak, Tatsuya simply began rubbing Masaki's back. He wasn't surprised to hear it given his own battlefield experiences, but his own spells were generally far less messy.
"It was awful, but that's my family's spell. That's how I can eliminate the enemy. There wasn't any other way for me to kill." Masaki's smirk was bitter. "Of course, everyone was so proud of me. I got so much praise. So many accolades. I was told what a great magician I already was and how great I would turn out to be. I was told I was a brave boy who would become a great man. And I learned to thank people for their kind words. I learned to focus on the lives we'd saved, like Jouji's. I told myself I really should be proud."
"Be proud you saved Jouji's life." Tatsuya cupped Masaki's face in his hands and met his gaze. "But allow yourself to be human, too. Masaki, I will give you space to grieve. I will give you space to set down the demands made upon us as men. I will give you space to hate being used as a human weapon just because you can cast magic. I will give you space to cry or yell or break things. Whatever it takes to vent the pain. You don't have to smile and pretend like you're simply proud and patriotic. You don't have to see yourself as a commodity."
Masaki stared at him, eyes wide. Then he kissed him, mouthing Tatsuya's lips with a quiet intensity. He clung to the front of Tatsuya's shirt with one hand.
Tatsuya's instincts burned, and he let them take over momentarily. He wrapped his arms around Masaki again and lowered him to the tatami floor, laying over him like a human shield. He only felt arousal once Masaki was safely under him. Then he mouthed Masaki's lips as well. Stay right there. I'm good at protecting people.
Masaki breathed raggedly as they continued kissing, and he cupped Tatsuya's shoulder blades, opening his legs so that Tatsuya's hips dropped down between them. The kiss deepened until Masaki's tongue was slipping into Tatsuya's mouth. He sighed out a moan.
Tatsuya felt a shiver of arousal race through his hips from the way Masaki repositioned them. He was still concerned about Masaki's emotional state, but he trusted Masaki to not do anything uncomfortable to himself. Tatsuya caressed Masaki's tongue, still holding him tightly. You have accepted my protection . . . Tatsuya couldn't deny that it added to his arousal.
Gently, Masaki ended the kiss. "I love you." With that, he reengaged the kiss, stroking Tatsuya's hair. Tatsuya could feel Masaki hardening underneath him. Masaki's body was growing warmer against his, and his normal color had returned.
Tatsuya felt relieved that Masaki had kissed him, thereby sparing him the painful choice about how to handle those three little words. He was giving Masaki everything he could, and he hoped it would be good enough. Certainly his level of investment was at its maximum peak. In that moment, he would do anything for Masaki that made Masaki feel loved and safe. He slipped one hand up under Masaki's shirt and caressed his chest.
Masaki gasped and lightly nibbled Tatsuya's lower lip. He arched up against Tatsuya with a fresh moan. Then he wrapped his legs around Tatsuya's, hooking them behind Tatsuya's knees, and cupped the back of Tatsuya's neck.
Tatsuya gazed down at Masaki's beautiful, flushed face and felt himself begin to stir. He caressed up to one of Masaki's nipples and stroked it. "I will do what you need," he whispered, tracing over the hardened nipple. "You want to feel better—pleasured, even—and I'm willing to assist." He leaned down and nuzzled Masaki's neck, then kissed him there.
Masaki threw his head back with a deep moan. When he arched against Tatsuya again, Tatsuya could feel him throbbing. "Yes. Distract me. I just – I just want – " Instead of finishing the sentence, he moaned again.
Tatsuya kissed down Masaki's neck. When he reached his shirt, Tatsuya pulled the material upward, revealing Masaki's chest. "I am trying to ask if you have a request. Otherwise . . ." He leaned down and lapped over Masaki's nipple, then sucked on it. The feeling of Masaki's erection throbbing against his body made him stir harder.
Masaki gasped sharply. Tatsuya felt a shudder go down Masaki's body. Although he clutched at Tatsuya's shoulders, massaging, Masaki didn't say anything. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his legs around Tatsuya's more tightly.
So it will feel best if I take control, Tatsuya deduced. He switched to Masaki's other nipple, lapping over it and then sucking on it. As he did, he reached down between them and unbuttoned and unzipped Masaki's pants. Then he slipped his hand down inside Masaki's boxers and palmed his erection. The skin was hot and damp against his hand.
Masaki let out a small burst of a moan, shuddering again. His nipples hardened further, and his erection throbbed in Tatsuya's hand. "Y-Yes," he choked out, as if it took all of the strength in his being to speak.
That was all the encouragement Tatsuya needed. He sat up and worked Masaki's pants and underwear down, just clearing his hips. Then he leaned forward, gently grasping Masaki's wrists and pulling his arms over his head. He pressed Masaki's wrists to the floor. "Don't move," he whispered. Then he released Masaki's wrists and caressed down his arms, over his chest, and over his abdomen. The sight of Masaki's flushed body stretched out was gorgeous. Tatsuya swallowed a sigh at the beauty and ran both hands down to Masaki's groin. He cupped Masaki's balls with one hand and stroked over his erection with the other.
Masaki panted hard and did as Tatsuya asked, keeping mostly still. However, he twitched and squirmed faintly underneath Tatsuya's hands, moaning at Tatsuya's touches. When Tatsuya's hands reached his groin, his hips twitched upwards, his moans louder.
"Yes," Tatsuya found himself whispering. He stroked Masaki until a clear bead welled up on his tip, and then he ran his thumb over it. When Masaki cried out again, Tatsuya knew what he wanted to do. He scooted backward and pulled Masaki's pants and boxers off. Then he lay between his legs, running his arms under Masaki's hips and capturing them. With careful aim, he caught Masaki in his mouth and sucked on the tip. A faint sweetness registered on his tongue.
Masaki twitched and whimpered in pleasure. His legs relaxed open farther. "T-Tatsuya." The name was a moan.
Tatsuya released him just long enough to speak. "Yes," he whispered again. "Yes." He slipped Masaki back into his mouth, sucking on him. And then he reversed the usual process, using his arms to pump Masaki's hips upwards and holding his head still. Masaki's length slid over his tongue, and he caressed his underside as it did. Be mine, he thought with fierce protectiveness.
Masaki cried out, and his body went limp, hands relaxing beside his shoulders. He let Tatsuya move his hips, moaning. His entire body flushed. Masaki's skin was hot against Tatsuya's hands. Slightly sweet wetness seeped into Tatsuya's mouth, but Masaki didn't come.
Good. Tatsuya swallowed and continued rocking Masaki's hips, bringing him up into his mouth repeatedly. Let me make love to you. Let me show you what I cannot say. Let me protect you. I will do all I can. He pumped Masaki's hips slowly, not wanting to rush the experience for his boyfriend. He gazed up the length of Masaki's torso, admiring Masaki's flushed skin, the planes of his muscles, the way his chest heaved with gasps. The sight washed over him with heat, leaving him fully hard and leaking.
Masaki breathed deeply, and long moans escaped him. His expression eased into bliss, his brow slightly furrowed and his lips parted. He seemed to glow from the inside out. "Tatsuya . . . that feels so good," he whispered almost too faintly to be heard.
Tatsuya relaxed deep inside as he realized Masaki had to know he was being made love to. You can feel it, can't you? You know. "Mn." He pumped Masaki's hips in measured strokes and sucked a bit more firmly. He could feel Masaki throbbing in his mouth. His own hips shifted against the floor as he began to throb as well.
Masaki moaned in response, and his breaths became calm and deeper. Little tremors ran through his hips. One hand drifted down to gently stroke the top of Tatsuya's head. "That's . . . yes." He filtered his fingers through Tatsuya's hair. Moaning again, he repeated, "Yes."
Tatsuya felt certain he had nonverbally communicated what he needed Masaki to understand. Reassured, he rocked Masaki's hips a fraction faster. I will protect you. You said I will not be alone; I will assure you won't be. He began to caress his tongue over Masaki's tip with every other pass.
Masaki whimpered and trembled. His fingers traced Tatsuya's ear. "Oh, god." He moaned deeply. "Oh, god, oh, god." He gasped and squirmed for a moment before he lay still again. His hands flexed. "You know that's going to – "
"Mn," Tatsuya acknowledged, catching part of the swell of Masaki's pleasure. He found himself pumping Masaki's hips a fraction faster still and moaning as he teased Masaki's tip. Yes. I want you.
Masaki's moans reached a fevered pitch, and then his hips jerked. "I'm going – " He clutched one hand to his chest. "It's – "
Tatsuya understood and released Masaki, pulling away.
Masaki came, arching off the floor. He made a thorough mess of himself in the process. His face shone with sweat, his hair was mussed, and he'd covered his own stomach. Still, he smiled. Then he collapsed and rested, his chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths.
Tatsuya felt rewarded by this outcome. He carefully released Masaki's hips. "Let me get a hand towel." He slipped into the bathroom and returned to clean Masaki up. Once he discarded the towel, he lay by Masaki and ran an arm around his waist. "There." He took in Masaki's smile. "Sexy," he said, just as he had the first time. It felt like a ridiculous understatement.
Masaki chuckled. "You are sexy." He rolled onto his side to face Tatsuya and tuck their bodies together. He kissed Tatsuya's lips with a contented sigh and then rested his head. His arm tightened around Tatsuya's waist.
"I'm going to protect you," Tatsuya said, deciding it was a proper response to Masaki's earlier love declaration. However, Tatsuya knew what that would likely get him, especially with Masaki's training, so he cut off any potential protests. "I know you're a man. You don't have to convince me that you can protect yourself; I know that you can. I'm not out to turn you into 'the woman' in our relationship. I already have a woman. She's already set to become my wife. You're a man, and that's how I like it. If I wanted another woman, I'd simply go find another woman. I've had offers, trust me. But I want you, and even though you're a man, I'm going to protect you, anyway."
Masaki raised his head. He looked at Tatsuya with an expression of astonishment. Then his eyes softened, and he brushed his hand through Tatsuya's hair, smoothing the locks away from Tatsuya's forehead. "I know I'm not 'the woman.' That's just a stereotype that straight people put on us because it fits the binary they've been taught. Real relationships between gay people don't work that way. I'm just worried about your overextending yourself. Let's protect each other. Equally."
Tatsuya pressed a kiss to Masaki's lips. "Fair enough. We can protect each other. Since it's you, I won't resist having someone to protect me for a change." It was certainly a novel idea, and up until that moment Tatsuya had not been aware just how much he wanted it. What had once been a vague thought was now a concrete offer, and it was an offer by a man Tatsuya knew could back up the words with magical might and muscle.
Even after he married Miyuki, Tatsuya knew he could never give up Masaki.