The Escort Chapter

Twenty-One: Pouring

Nowaki left Matsuo's in a terrible state.

His jaw ached from the abuse he'd just endured, but this was no comparison to the pain in his heart.

Exiting Matsuo's business suite, Nowaki immediately sought the nearest restroom. Here he stuck his fingers down his throat until he'd expelled the last traces of the pimp from his stomach. Afterwards he rinsed his mouth at the sink, but this wasn't enough to rid him of the taste that had burned itself into his tongue.

Nowaki's large hands gripped the edge of the counter, his mind was still reeling, he was in shock from everything that had just transpired. The escort glanced up and saw his reflection in the mirror. Mere moments after he looked into his own haunted eyes, his legs gave way for the second time that day.

Kneeling on the floor of men's room, Nowaki wept bitterly.

"I'm sorry but I just don't believe you, Hiroki."

"What?" Hiroki was shocked by Akihiko's quiet response.

"I said, I don't believe you." Akihiko stepped up and smoothly captured the back of his friend's neck with the towel again. "How many years have we known each other? You've loved me a long time.

"Haven't you, Hiroki?"

Hiroki's eyes widened. Though he was still partially clothed, he suddenly felt as if he;d been stripped naked.

Akihiko moved closer. "I didn't see it for so long… I didn't want to… But now I do."

One hand gathered both ends of the towel effectively collaring Hiroki as the other reached up and grazed the professor's cheek.

Unwillingly, Hiroki found himself trembling at the touch; he damned Akihiko's miserable timing. Hiroki dropped his eyes; he'd made a commitment in his heart to Nowaki now.

"It's too late."

Akihiko leaned his silvered head in close. "It's never too late." Hiroki could feel hot breath on the cool, damp skin of his neck as a silky voice whispered in his ear.

"Admit it, Hiroki, that's the real reason why you've been avoiding me. Because you know deep down that you love me."

"I.. I.." Hiroki stammered.

"Yes," Akihiko looked expectantly at the man furiously blushing before him.

The words caught in Hiroki's throat. He gazed up into Akihiko's intense eyes.

For fourteen years he had loved Akihiko desperately and yet… Once again Hiroki knew that something in him had irrevocably shifted: Nowaki had somehow truly set him free.

"I choose Nowaki."

Hiroki was pleased that there was no waver this time. He put his hand over the one Akihiko had on the towel around his neck, intent on loosening the author's grip. Akihiko's eyes widened at this. Then he frowned and the hand that had just so gently feathered across Hiroki's cheek drifted down and gripped the damaged shoulder.

Akihiko's palm pressed against the purpled bruise on Hiroki's collarbone.

A sharp pain shot through Hiroki and he gasped. Tears came to his eyes and his knees weakened. He staggered backwards, colliding with his desk behind him. Akihiko used the towel around his neck to keep him from falling down entirely

"You and your pride, Hiroki," Akihiko's voice was slightly raised; his eyes flashed with frustration.

"I still don't believe you, nor do I believe you about this either." Akihiko pressed the bruise again and Hiroki saw stars. "Kusama carries the black air of violence with him."

Despite the pain, Hiroki set his hands against Akihiko's chest and shoved back hard. "God damn it, Akihiko, stop! You don't know anything! You never have!"

Akihiko never lost his grip on the towel, however, so the force of the shove only served to pull Hiroki back up and into him. Hiroki found to his chagrin that he was now pressed against the larger man's chest. One of Akihiko's strong arms quickly gripped him around the waist. The hand that had been holding the towel abandoned it to capture his jaw.

"On the contrary, my dear Hiroki..." Staring into pain-stunned eyes, Akihiko whispered sadly, "I know so much more than you can imagine." And with that he leaned in.

"Akihiko, No!…" Hiroki raised his voice in protest, but his words were cut off as a hot mouth crashed against his.

At the same moment door to the office crashed open as well and Nowaki burst into the room.

Akihiko drew back in surprise as a vise-like grip clutched his neck. He released Hiroki as Nowaki spun him around. A second later the author went sprawling, knocking over piles of books and scrolls as he fell.

Within seconds, Akihiko found himself on the floor, his mouth filled with blood from the furious blow Nowaki had dealt to his jaw. He hadn't even recovered his senses when large hands grabbed him by the front of the tee-shirt he was wearing and lifted him back to half-standing from the midst of the literary chaos. He was raised so abruptly his shirt-collar tore in the process.

Nowaki drew back ready to strike again.

Hiroki, stunned by the sudden turn of events, had recovered enough to move again. He lunged for Nowaki's tensed arm and grabbed it, pulling him back.

"No, Nowaki! You idiot, stop!"

At the sound of Hiroki's voice the red mist of rage clouding Nowaki's eyes lifted. His hand released Usami and the author collapsed back to the floor in a gasping heap.

Turning towards his lover; seeing Hiroki standing there shirtless and panting, Nowaki was anguished.

Hiroki was horrified by this violent outburst. "What in the hell have you done, Nowaki?" As soon as he saw Nowaki was no longer in attack mode he released the escort's arm and dropped to his knees beside Akihiko.

"Are you alright, Akihiko?"

The dazed look was slowly fading from Akihiko's eyes. He was still coughing from the earlier hand on his neck. He spat on the polished wood floor of the office and offered Hiroki a bloody grin.

"Tell me again how he doesn't hurt you, Hiroki." Akihiko gazed into Hiroki's anxious eyes adding quietly, "I understand that once someone has been damaged by abuse, that he often will choose to repeat that pattern again and again in relationships, but you deserve better than that."

Hiroki stared Akihiko with a perplexed expression: his friend's strange words made him think that Akihiko's mind was still jangled from the blow.

"What are you talking about?"

"Like I said, Hiroki… I know…" Akihiko stood up, wincing as his long body unfolded. He brought the back of one hand to his mouth and pressed it against his split bottom lip.

Hiroki's eyes widened with wonder at what Akihiko was saying. As all the possible scenarios of knowing ran through his mind, his cheeks grew exceeding hot. He turned his eyes away, unable to meet Akihiko's intense, sorrowful gaze only to notice Nowaki was gone.

"Nowaki…" Hiroki whispered. He rose and quickly retrieved his damp T-shirt, hastily drawing it over his head.

"Hiroki."

Hiroki lifted his sodden sport coat from the back of his office chair. He grabbed his cell phone off his desk and flipped it open, punching Nowaki's contact. He grimaced when it went straight to voicemail.

"Hiroki."

"God damn it!" Hiroki flipped his phone shut. It was only then he realized that Akihiko had been calling his name.

"Hiroki..." Akihiko stepped towards his friend but stopped when he saw Hiroki back up at his approach. "We need to talk."

"I have to find Nowaki."

"You're okay, right?" Hiroki murmured as he stepped past, giving Akihiko wide birth. "You should get something cold on that lip right away before it swells more… And you should probably take yourself to the doctor. I don't know if they'll see you at the campus infirmary… Policies and all…"

"Look I can call you a cab, you shouldn't be driving. I'll cover the expense, the medical fees as well." Hiroki offered this uncomfortably as he began moving towards the door.

"I'm going to press charges."

The professor was stopped in his tracks by these words. Hiroki slowly turned; "Akihiko, don't… please," he whispered.

"It's for your own good, Hiroki. You are obviously too caught up in this terrible dynamic to think clearly."

Something in Akihiko's tone sparked him and Hiroki felt a sudden relief as his anger caught. "The only terrible dynamic I'm caught up in is this one right here, Akihiko!

"None of this would have happened if you had listened to what I'd said in the beginning and hadn't tried to force yourself on me!"

Hiroki's embered stare burned furiously, his voice became harsh with emotion. "I told you, I choose Nowaki, and if you want to remain even just friends with me, Akihiko, you'll leave him alone."

"Come on, Old Man, you can't seriously mean that? Akihiko's pale eyes were incredulous. "We've been friends since we were ten. You're going to throw all that away for a man you haven't even known for a year?"

Akihiko watched his words hit home, he saw the glint of guilt in Hiroki's dark eyes. So he was was shocked then, when the look on his friend's face slipped from conviction to sorrow.

"You said yourself, Akihiko, just because something has been doesn't necessarily mean it should remain that way."

If ever there was a word Akihiko would have applied to Hiroki as a friend it was "faithful." The author was astonished by this response. A bitter smile twisted Akihiko's broken mouth as he played his last card for this round.

"So, you're just going to leave me here, in my hour of need, Hiroki? After all, I'm the one who's wounded here."

At these words the picture of Nowaki standing before him at the breakfast table, that small raw spot on his hip, flashed again in Hiroki's mind. This was followed with the look on Nowaki's face, just before he'd turned away to assist Akihiko.

Hiroki shook his still-damp head. "I'm not so sure about that."

Hiroki resumed his movement towards the door. "Please make sure the door's locked when you leave. I'll call you later and see what the doctor said."

Akihiko watched in stunned silence as his oldest friend hurriedly exited the office, not even bothering to look back once before he closed the door behind him.

Standing there Akihiko realized that the impact of Kusama's punch paled in comparison with the blow Hiroki had just dealt him.

Thanks again for reading. It would be great to hear from you if you're reading along.