"Aya..." And just what could I tell him? That I wanted to bed him? Taste him? Love him? Heaven forbid. Or perhaps that I could change, for his sake, but that would be a lie. I know myself too well. The cigarette was down to the filter, I had to get rid of it and he had no ashtray in his room. So I got up, and yeah, I had to hurry or I'd stand the girl up; I don't do that sort of thing 'cos it's crass. "Gotta go now."
"Yohji." He rose and offered me the lid of the jar. "What? Snuff that damn fag already."
"I need to go, Aya." I needed to go because he made me dizzy, and I had a date.
"Yohji!"
His tone held something else now, a twang of despair perhaps that made me pause and look back over my shoulder. A storm was blowing over his face, it was painful even to watch him struggle with himself. So I stopped, my hand on the doorknob, and waited.
"I want… I can't…"
"Want me to do it 'cos you thought it's easy that way," I said, watching him wince. "'Cos you can't ask the chibis, and I'm just-"
"No! That's not… I mean, that's not all!"
Oh. I lit up again. Smoking too much, Kudoh, gives you lung cancer, though you're probably be dead 'fore it can catch you.
"I want it to be you," he breathed, turning a furious crimson, but to his credit, he kept glaring at me. I hate purple contacts. They just had to be contacts, with that dead sheen and this impossible colour. I wondered what his real eye colour might be, or his true hair colour for that matter… Aya was all about masking, hiding, holding on tight to so many layers that it was easy to forget there might be something beneath worth a closer look. Or perhaps not. Who knows.
I let go of the doorknob. Suddenly tired of pussyfooting around. Now or never. No way back after this, so move, Kudoh, before you chicken out. "You wanna sleep with me?" Silence. More glaring, small, hard hands fisting by his sides. Katana sheathed under his futon. I would be out quicker than he could grab the damn slicer. "Then say it, Ayan."
Time frozen. Silence. A Noh play of dramatic silence punctuated with sounds. Purple eyes sailing on halfmast, pale lips opening a little, torturously slow, a battle raging beneath the still surface, a tiny gasp, "I…"
"C'mon, Ayan." Intrigued. Hooked. Gonna get hurt. Addicted. I walked back into the room, into his personal space, right up to him – so close, so very close; a thrill ran down my spine and knotted in my crotch, could feel his heat and mine flaring. His eyes flew open and skewered me, he tensed up so much he'd shatter any moment, or break off his own fingers, or … "C'mon, it's not that difficult: I. Like. You. I like you."
He blanched, shuffled about, hands clenching even tighter, knuckles white. I could have bet he had bloody marks where his nails cut into his palms. "I could have pushed you off that roof." Instead of hauling me back and scolding me for being insanely stupid.
True enough, but not good enough. I shook my head, and he sucked in a sharp breath. Ok, his buttons work by force only. A lot of it, and not nice. Not what I'd do by choice.
"Want me to fake it then?" he snapped. Mustering last reserves, attempting to keep control, somehow, of something he couldn't control any longer because he wanted, he longed, he yearned…
"You wouldn't."
Colour flushing back into his face in a wild flood. "If you know, why say it?"
He did not deny it. Press, Kudoh, push, nudge. Play the high card, gamble, it's all or nothing, remember? Too late, way too late for anything in between. "'Cos I need to hear it. I'm that type, Ayan, always a sucker for pretty things. Pretty pictures, pretty touches, pretty words."
His mouth fell open, then snapped shut. He went to his futon and knelt, hands in his lap. Katana close. Hands still clenched to fists. I went after him, sank into a crouch opposite him and looked him into the eye. Could feel the damn knife press against my shins beneath the mattress. He bit his lip, he would bleed if he kept digging his sharp little teeth into the soft flesh, and I thumbed over his mouth to soothe the swelling. He jerked back, anger and panic flashing over his face like lightning, but still no attempt to reach the fuckin' sword.
Yukata gaping open over his chest, white skin, pearly scars, a dusky pink nipple, the hollow beneath his throat where my fingers had nearly squashed the life out of him, the faint red line where my wire…
"I…" He drew a deep breath, holding my gaze, and spluttered, "Like you. I like you, here you have it." And fell silent again, resentment showing all too clearly in the harsh line of his mouth as he awaited my reaction. He was not in control here, I had taken care of that. He hated me for it, and he wanted me for it 'cos he wanted to let go and couldn't, I had to wrench it off him, fight him tooth and nail so he could give up his damn restraint for once and just be, without feeling guilty. He thought I could do just that for him, that I was a match for his temper and his rage and everything he hated and wanted. I should have felt flattered.
No, I didn't smile, he'd feel more defeated than he was, and it would all go to hell. So I got up, trying to keep my decorum by hiding my hard-on under my baggy tee, and nonchalantly dug for my fags. "I like you too, Ayan. A lot."
He was perplexed again. He hurt. He looked as though he'd start screaming any moment, so I thought it better to leave him to stew and mull it all over. "When?" I asked.
And it was his turn to be blunt and put me out 'cos he said flatly, "Now. I want you now."
I swallowed a gulp of smoke; don't cough, don't fluster… hell, and don't come in your friggin' pants. "Need to clean up first," I tried, but he jumped to his feet, those firm, small feet that could step through katas swifter than you could look, feet that could deliver kicks that have your guts hang out. Now they looked like small white birds.
Glaring down at me, he shook his head. "No. Now."
"But I was out last night," I said, feeling my resolve fade and a shade of panic rise inside me – I had been out, I could still taste the residue of booze and grass and someone else. I would have to go to my room for some lube and for some of those little rubber sheaths to protect him for he could not possibly have any of that stuff, not Aya-
"I don't care." He bent and flipped over his pillow. Lube. No condoms. He. Was. No. Innocent. He knew. Things. Now, why should that have thrown me? I knew about a lot of things at a much younger age.
"I've done my homework. Read up on a few things. I know how I function. And I don't want rubber."
Good grief! "But Aya-" Discomfort began to creep up on me. Perhaps he wanted me like this so he could tell himself I'm just a cheap hoor. And I had meant to go out again, after all I had a date.
"Or am I just a job for you?" he bit out. "I've showered, and I won't need the bathroom anytime soon."
Now, did I get this right: professionals do the whole hog. Shower, cleaning out backside, lube up, condoms, the lot. People who are cool enough to take an hour to textbook prep themselves and plan ahead, or who need the detachment. No, Aya didn't want me like that. Even shunned my trusty little latex friends. He wanted me barebacked, and what did he say about the bathroom? He wanted me inside him.
Good grief. Did he trust me that far, or was he just clueless, reckless, idiotic? Now, Kudoh, I told myself, process that, slowly please, ignoring the throbbing down there between your legs: if you love and if you're hot, you don't care all that much about most of that stuff. Me and Asuka… she did this sometimes to pleasure me, with her fingers up my rear while she was doing things to my dick with this sweet mouth of hers, and sometimes she liked it when I returned the favour and took her that way-
Now why did this whole thing make me go dizzy, it shouldn't matter all that much, now should it, I was in control there, yes, I was. "Aya, I…"
"Tell me about her."
That was abrupt. Smoke, more smoke, lots of it to veil my face, to laugh and shrug and then bite my tongue against the heat that stings my eyes so suddenly. "I… I find that difficult."
"We have time. I asked Omi to change our shifts around tomorrow. We can take as long as we like."
Yes, I was in control, most definitely. And I had a date. Still a little time, if I skimped a bit on grooming. Redhead settled back on his futon, scuffled around to make room by his side, and smoothed out the sheets. Snowy white, his hand a pale shadow on the linens, the wide sleeve of the yukata a wing of darkness sweeping after it. "If you'd care to keep me company for a little longer?"
So I sat down closer to him, on his crisp white sheets. Could smell him, sharp and spicy, even over my fag, and sense his warmth. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad it made me shake.
He wrinkled his nose a bit at my cigarette, but decided to ignore it as he had done all evening. How odd. "Did you love her?"
Truth. We had to start this, whatever it was we were about to start, with the truth. Sometimes, the truth isn't the best thing to start with, but that didn't apply here. Here it mattered. "Still do," I managed around a mouthful of smoke. "That doesn't mean there'd be no room for someone else."
He slanted me a sideways glance, said nothing. Should I have explained?
"I wanna live, Ayan. There's nothing wrong with that. I know she wouldn't begrudge me a bit of living, and we only have once chance." Why did it matter? I could just have complied, laid him and given him a good one. So he would know how things work between two blokes.
"You make it sound so simple." He leaned against me, warm, solid, somehow familiar. As though I'd awaited, imagined, always felt this touch. "Everything seems simple for you, Yohji."
"But it is."
He hung his head. "Perhaps."
He was not convinced. In his mind, nothing was simple, he was always running ahead a few steps and didn't stop to think properly. That his parents who had loved him would not want him to waste his life trying to get himself killed. That his sister would not mind him going out to have some fun, or seeking some warmth in someone's bed, or finding some pleasure all for himself.
His hand stole onto my thigh and rested there. It felt hot, no cool, hell, I didn't know, it felt hard and longing and damn good as his fingertips pressed tentatively into my flesh, and my body hadn't forgotten it had a hard-on earlier before he shocked me a bit with this business attitude of his.
"Yohji?" I'm taller than him. He tilted his head back a bit so he could gleam at me from beneath ragged red bangs.
"I'm not in the mood now." It slipped out a lot rougher than I meant it, and he pulled back. No, I was not in my right mind. I needed a break to scrape my wits together, and rather urgently before I started doing what he wanted me to do, and couldn't stop myself much longer...
He raised his eyebrows. He could convey a world of words with a tiny gesture. I saw the glint in his eyes and misread it. I shifted, and he sagged back into me, his hair tickling my cheek, his breath soft and warm on my neck. Since when did my dick respond to someone breathing down my neck? I needed that break NOW. "Mood, Aya? You know-"
"Like… candles and stuff?" He turned, twisting, making it an embrace by sneaking his arm round my waist even as mine came to rest across his shoulderblades. He pressed closer still; I could feel his chest against mine, his small, hard nipples through a couple of layers of cotton that were the only barrier between his skin and mine. "You wanna date me?" he murmured.
That click in his voice, was that amusement? Barely suppressed laughter? Watch out, Kudoh, here he goes... and to hell with caution. High stakes equal high risks. "Yeah, that, with good food and music and a shower together, the lot, yanno. You think I stand to attention all that time, and that I'd just do you now so it's over and done with? Why don't you use a dildo?"
He stiffened a bit, but didn't budge. "Ok."
What was that? "Ok? You… we have a date then? Or ok, you'll resort to toys?"
He laid his head back against my shoulder and laughed. A deep, croaky sound 'cos his voice was used to yelling and snarling and rasping but not to laughing. "Don't get ideas, Kudoh. If that's what turns you on, fine, we can do those things, I pay, and then you'll fuck me."
I should have known. It was too easy, now was it, and I really should have seen it coming and not felt sick and cold and woozy as I shoved him back and got up. "No, damn you, no. I won't."
And I could still hear him laugh as I lurched from his room, feeling beat and down.
He was one mean fighter.
xxx
Next chapter: Lies