Reviewers
Thank you for reading both Anger and Sloth. Envy was I believe, one of the worst sins to tackle. It's taken me nearly half a year to churn out this piece and I'm pretty sure there's still room for improvement. There is a "darker" (read: pr0n) piece lurking about and if you want to read it, hop onto my website. It should be the first post there. That one is slightly more different than this one and the plot is better developed there. Please excuse any grammatical errors, it is late and both shinobee, my wonderful beta, and I think present tense should go die. May I present to you, Envy.
Envy
I had been wondering when you'd show up. The food I had prepared has gone cold by the late hour and waits upon the table that had been set out as if it was some romantic dinner out of a trashy novel. The candles that I had lit were now burnt down to the wick and I wonder if you had any intention of coming at all. I gaze at the clock once more. The same grandfather clock that still stood in the corner. It has witnessed all our fights, all our lies and all our empty promises.
You are a married man with a beautiful two year old daughter as a result of the matrimony and I have seen you laughing with her in your arms, your wife by your side. It makes me jealous to see you with your family as if you hadn't a care in the world when I can only regard myself as a third wheel. I had turned away in disgust for wasting an hour of my already miserable and hectic life to spy on you.
The occasion is marked upon my calendar, your third wedding anniversary that is. You have planned a trip to somewhere exotic for the family; you told me so. Yet, you had stayed behind to tie up some urgent business ends and I wonder if I am also another of those business ends that you have failed to meet for the last few years. I keep reminding you to stop your foolish decisions to keep this affair from continuing but we both know that if it had ended it, it would have been on the night of your marriage.
I still remember your wedding: the white carnations and roses swathing the entire chapel in their pure light. It was a good choice upon your wife's decision. Your brother stands at your elbow, as the best man, and he looks very smart in his white tailored suit. Your parents are overcome with joy at your nuptial, even if your father's face is as impassive as yours. It was a beautiful ceremony and there are smiles on everyone's face, including yours for the very first time.
She looked every part the blushing virginal bride and everyone in the chapel was awed by her beauty. It was truly a match to behold and I knew that it was impossible of me to ruin her dreams of marrying the man of her heart; even if the man had unbeknownst to all already own my heart.
The reception was just as stunningly beautiful as the wedding chapel. I hadn't wanted to attend the reception, but it would hardly be proper of me to celebrate your holy matrimony without an eloquent customary speech and toast which could only have been churned out by the insane amount of alcohol consumed.
"…Congratulations. Please raise your glasses once more to the Bride and Groom." The entire room mimicked and I had locked eyes with you as I tilted the flute of red pinot noir upwards, draining the liquor in one gulp. It was the speech that you had expected from me – as one of the more fluent friends. No, we were just mere acquaintances now.
What had we been? 'More than friends but less than lovers,' you had said when I asked. I smiled and buried my own disappointment at your careless answer. It was nice to know when you were wanted.
I don't know why you still insist on the occasional nightly romp. Surely your wife could satisfy you in bed far more than I can. But I could never question your visits when you turn up unannounced on my doorstep. It was the only thing I look forward to on the lonely cold nights that you may come and dispel the loneliness in my heart.
But by then, I had taken your visits for granted and it was to my surprise when my own father and mother had found the supposed 'perfect woman' for me as a permanent way of quelling my apparent impotency. I hadn't bothered to correct them on my sexual activity and definitely not my sexual preference. After all, I had no lover to boast of and the only man who insisted we were nothing short of fuck buddies.
My thoughts are disturbed by a quiet knocking at the door and I know it could only be you. I had asked you to show up four hours ago but I can't have expected you to drive straight over after work. I wasn't a woman that you dedicated yourself to or even remotely important. You had made certain of that.
The door is always unlocked and you walk in with your coat pulled taut around your shoulders. The fabric is glistening with moisture. It is raining, you say. I hadn't noticed for the fire that was crackling in the hearth had drowned out the depressing sounds. You close the door softly and shrug out of your coat, dropping your business bag by the door. By morning, the bag would be gone and you along with it. It was always going to be the same.
"Where have you been?" I ask, watching you undo your shoelaces. Business, you reply; just like every other time I had bothered to mention his unpunctuality. I nod in acceptance and wait for you to walk towards the warm fire where you usually take your scotch. I sit down on the white designer chair opposite the window, unsure for the last time of how to end and finally sever the only thing that is keeping me in Japan.
You look up from the rug with your empty glass in hand. "Close the curtains, Keigo. All we need is the firelight." I sigh, knowing he is right and slowly get off the chair to pull the plush red curtains shut. The curtains are crushed in my grip and I could only delay the eventual ending to all his visits. When I finally turn around and let go of the curtain, you had a bottle of Father's best Shiraz half opened.
When you finally have it uncorked and had resettled yourself on the rug in front of the fire, your eyes beckon me. Moments later, I find myself tucked into your warm body with the bottle of Shiraz at my lips. I know you're watching my throat work and the wine produces such a wonderful buzz in my head that I can not help but swallow another mouthful. I relinquish my claim on the bottle knowing that you too wanted to drink the red wine.
You take a long draught of the wine and I'm satisfied just by watching the flames dance. But you aren't and you seize my lips into a kiss sharing the Shiraz between us. I had asked you why you made it a habit to do that and you always replied as you nuzzle my cheek that everything tasted better that way. I can only mull over my guilt of sharing your lips and your bed more often than your wife has.
Then everything would be forgotten in the moment as I feel you doing the most wonderful things to my neck. Every damn time you come, you would take me in front of the fire. The romantic almost loving gentle way you treat me makes up for the third or forth time after upon my bed which was reserved only for the most primitive and hard of fucks.
On the rare occasion that I see you reach that precipice of pleasure, I can only admire the way the lights play over your collarbones and cling onto your shirt sleeve for the ride. The bottle of Shiraz tips onto the floor and spills all over the carpet, to join in one of many stains.
By the time we have the energy and need to make it to the bedroom, there is a trail of clothes that mark our journey from the living room. Our lips would be locked in a heated battle for dominance in one of our most passionate of desperate kisses and you would have divested me of my clothes before I can even lay a finger on your tie.
You brutally push me into the mattress and tug impatiently at your clothes, lips never leaving mine as the true disparity of the moment sinks in. I stretch up and pull open the drawers to find lubrication and return to find yourself naked and as beautiful as the day you were born. The tube would be robbed from my hand and I would spread my legs for you, waiting for the invasion of your fingers as you recklessly prepare me in your haste.
Every damn time, my last thoughts would be on the impossible. And this time, it is no different. How it would feel to wake up besides you in the morning and spend eternity with you; to have forever… You bite hard on my shoulder as warning and I can only abandon all thoughts as you push your entire length inside me.
The rhythm is choppy at first, and I can only cling to your broad shoulders, laced with all your years of strict kendo practice. Your harsh breaths against my cheek distract me from the almost nonexistent pain and I cry out with each stroke that hit against my prostate.
By the last time we fuck, you are truly spent and tired from the day's proceedings. I know you are a considerate lover, the essence on my stomach having been cleaned away by quick efficient movements of your tongue, and could only wish that you were mine. The only sound is of our mixed breaths and the shifting of the bed sheets as you lazily pull me against you.
"This is the last time, Keigo." You grumble and I always answer with a nod against your warm chest. It's impossible to believe your words when you have been saying the same things since the beginning of our illicit affair. Try again next time when you have convinced yourself.
I wait till your breaths have evened out to escape from your deceiving embrace; the tempting warmth of a lover that I can never have. I can only save tonight's memory as one of precious few that I have of our times together. The only evidence safe tucked in the recesses of my mind as I wash away anymore evidence of sex.
In the end, that's all it is. I sigh and lean against the white tiles, wishing that I hadn't chosen such a pure colour as the interior of my bathroom. I don't know when the tears start to fall and I feel a bitter laugh rising from the back of my throat. I could only wish that you could stay but the rational part of my mind knows full well of the family you have. I sink down to the floor and hug my knees, watching as the steam rises from the hot water that runs around me. The temperature is scalding me and I accept it as penance for committing my sins.
I eventually turn off the water and wrap a towel loosely around my waist, padding quietly to stare at my reflection in the mirror. Apart from my high places in society and numerous other titles, there was only one that applied behind closed doors: I was Sanada Genichirou's whore and my reflection looks back in disgust.
But tomorrow; it will all be over tomorrow. I would leave him everything I own and he could do what he will with this house and my possessions that serve as the catalyst of our memories. It matters not, because by tomorrow, I will be gone.
Warm arms slip around my body and I almost shout in surprise having not heard you enter the bathroom. You are a perpetual source of heat and on normal circumstances I would have leant back into your warmth with the knowledge that there will always be a next time. But, I can not allow myself the luxury this time around.
"Come back to bed."
I close my eyes, not wanting to meet your strong gaze in the mirror. You know it is impossible of me to disobey one of your requests. The hold you have around me tightens and makes me open my eyes in annoyance. I hate it when you do that. You suffocate me.
"I can't sleep without you there, Keigo."
I relent and allow you to guide me back to bed, knowing that you won't stop til you had gotten your way. It is strange to think that I have rubbed off on you. I have learnt the virtue to be patient and you, the sins of selfishness that any exemplary male should not possess.
Then again, no exemplary male would be fucking men four times a week either; which confuses me. You confuse me and it is a problem that my sharp mind can't come up with an answer to. Have you caught wind that I would be leaving Japan? That wasn't possible. My parents and I had planned this with discretion on the forefront of our minds. So there wasn't any possible explanation to the sudden appearance of your tender side.
You stretch out upon the black satin sheets and wait for me to clamber into bed. I turn my back to you and rest on the one foot space on the edge of the king sized bed as far away from you as possible. I can not let myself be seduced by this affectionate side of you. It's a factor that I had neglected to calculate in the solution to our never ending affair and it is something that I can never indulge in.
Then your large warm hand rests gently upon my hip and I can't help but shiver at the love that seems to emanate from it. No. Not love, never love. Your thumb traces small circles on my hip and I slowly turn onto my back, but no more. I can not afford to be any closer to you but yet you compromise by moving closer. Your intoxicating musky scent compelling me to roll over and into the warmth that radiates from your body.
By the time dawn comes, I haven't slept and the hold you had on me has grown slack. I carefully crawl out from underneath the covers and away from you. You have become my guilty addiction and I walk into the living room to gather my clothes from the floor, intent of stopping our relationship once and for all. Putting my clothes on, I procure an envelope that was hidden the night before behind a set of heavy leather bound books. Inside the envelope were the only set of keys and a letter written in my hand.
I walk once more to the bedroom, admiring how beautiful Sanada Genichirou looked in sleep. I can't help but be envious of his new family, something I can never be a part of. It is impossible for two men to be together as society dictates and the pressure of being the only heir to the Atobe name spells out the probability, or lack thereof, of this relationship.
Now that tomorrow had come, I can't help but feel regretful. There are so many things that I could have said or could have done. But it was all too late now. I set the envelope on the counter top and go to put on my shoes, knowing that as soon as I closed the front door, I could not ever walk back in.
Everything is done. We can finally end our little games and stop delaying our misery. I open the door and look over my shoulder once more at the layout of the house; the house that has brought so much pain and pleasure. I was going to start a new chapter in my life and by giving Sanada the only physical reminder, it was finally possible to end this one.
