Disclaimer: Not the creator of Vocaloid, not the person who made this particular English rendition, don't sue.
Chapter 5
By Akaito's side, little else came to matter for the younger man. His world revolved around his newfound love, his startling passionate feelings easily overtaking him and blotting out all else they deemed trivial and unworthy of his attention. Leaving Lorina at the alter hurt him less than he thought, and his heart was never plagued with guilt. That single leisurely stroll with the redhead had thoroughly enamored him with the older, taller male. Everything he had ever known of love had been severely questioned by this new one Akaito had instilled in his heart, a heated, unforgiving feeling that was all-consuming and took its prisoners gladly.
As days passed, Mikuo found himself falling deeper and deeper into this emotion he so strongly felt, becoming increasingly dissatisfied with this platonic and friendly relationship they shared. Of course, he dared not do anything to betray these emotions to his love. He was too afraid of the fragility of friendship to even attempt it.
Even now, as they strolled about the village, conversing idly about trivial happenings and occurrences, Mikuo wanted more. He wanted Akaito to hold him, to kiss him, to love him; he didn't want this distance, these friendly, meaningless touches. I should be happy with only this, he told himself fiercely.
Suddenly he found himself very close to the taller man, so close that he could feel the other's warmth. His heart began to race, his body humming with want, cheeks flushing at the dangerous proximity. Nervously he looked down, tense and stiff.
"Mikuo?" At the confusion and worry in that seductive voice his body acted on its own accord, and he turned to look at the other. Akaito's eyebrows were furrowed slightly in his confusion, lips slightly parted as he had only just called his name, those same lips automatically drawing all of Mikuo's focus to them. How would they feel, pressed against his, as they clashed and claimed his wanting lips passionately, heatedly? How would Akaito's hands feel, roaming his body, touching and holding him, pressing their bodies close together? Unconsciously he found himself leaning in close, and then he raised his lips to Akaito's, eyes fluttering to a close, as their lips met, finding his attraction, at that precise moment, too hard to deny and fight. It was like trying to keep the ocean at bay with a broomstick: there was no way in hell it was going to happen.
It was heaven on earth. Nothing could compare to this electrifying feeling that made him feel truly alive. Feeling the other's lips unresponsive to his own, he drew away, eyes widening as his actions sunk in.
He had just kissed Akaito. What the hell was wrong with him!
"I-I'm sorry!" Mikuo cried, flushing a deep red. He jerked away, stumbling backwards, turning away to flee in his horror; a hand, however, yanked him roughly back, spinning him back around so that he was pressed against the other chest to chest. Before he could say a word, before he could even process the fact the other was embracing him, Akaito pressed his lips roughly onto Mikuo's, capturing unsuspecting lips into a passionate, heated, bruising and unforgiving kiss, his arm wrapped firmly around the smaller man's tiny waist, his free hand buried in green locks of hair, leaving no room for escape.
A moan escaping his lips, Mikuo returned this kiss with equal fervor, his small hands entangling themselves in fiery red hair, willingly parting his lips when the other's tongue asked for entry. As their tongues clashed, he felt that his whole body was set aflame by this one kiss, feeling his mind glaze over with thoughts of nothing but the man who held and kissed him, of the molten heat that was love and lust coursing through his veins.
When air became a necessity, both men pulled away, panting heavily, looking at each other with darkened eyes. A light shiver ran through the smaller man's fragile form as Akaito's fingers idly travel the length of his body, those lips he had just been kissing pressing themselved against his neck again and again.
And then he realized that they were outside, in public.
Never had he felt so grateful for his feminine looks before in his life.
"A-Akaito! We...we're outsi-nmm~" he moaned softly as the other nipped playfully at his neck, only to run a soothing tongue over the agitated flesh.
"So if I took you home, we could continue?" Akaito purred sensually against the other's ear, taking the lobe into his mouth to tease.
"Ah! Y-yes! B-but not h-here," Mikuo quickly agreed.
"As you wish," the redhead said as he pulled away, intertwining their fingers as he led the way, damn well making sure the opportunity wouldn't slip through his fingers again.
Little did he know just how unlikely it was Mikuo would ever deny him.
A/N: Please review! Constructive criticism and your general thoughts would be very much appreciated.