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Chapter Five

"I want you."

Want?

What did he mean by that? They were both men. Men didn't want other men.

"You're a freak. A pervert."

Akihiko narrowed his eyes. "I'm a pervert? Me?" He gave one loud, mocking laugh. "Look at yourself!" He eyed Misaki's tented pants. It was obvious that the boy was very aroused. Akihiko wanted to grind against him. He wanted to rub their bodies together until they couldn't think of anything else.

Misaki shriveled against the wall. Oh God. This was absolutely mortifying. Right in front of his them, hiding inside of his pants, was proof that his body was excited. He needed to get swallowed by the wall and disappear.

Akihiko wanted Misaki to show himself. He wanted to see the proof that the boy was affected just as much a he was. "Hey, don't be embarrassed. Don't be afraid to show me."

Misaki balked. Was that even possible? No, he didn't think so. "We are men. So… don't do that stuff."

"I don't see what that has to do with it."

Misaki gave him a blank stare. Did he really have to spell it out? Wasn't it obvious? Apparently not.

"We. Are. Men. Men don't… men can't… do that."

Akihiko stalked closer. He leaned down so that his mouth was next to the boy's ear. "You seem to be mistaken. Men can, in fact, 'do that.' I would know."

"Well, don't!" Misaki yelled, pushing him away. Was it getting hotter in here? He could feel sweat gathering over his chest and temples. "Just 'cause you're a pervert doesn't mean that everyone else is too!"

"Don't fool yourself." Akihiko smirked. Looked like Misaki was going to take some convincing. He was more than up for the challenge.

Misaki paled. This wasn't right. These feelings, these sensations coursing through his body weren't natural. It was all unlike anything he had felt before. He had to get out of the room. It was suffocating him. He closed his eyes and swallowed, praying his voice didn't break. "I need to leave."

He almost made it out the door, but a strong hand grabbed his shoulder. Misaki didn't turn around.

Akihiko hesitated. "Misaki, don't leave." Was that desperation in his voice?

The boy paused. Then, he jerked his shoulder away and walked out.

"Misaki, did you enjoy your talk with Usagi-san?"

This was so not a conversation Misaki wanted to have with his brother. How could he reply? Well, he molested me and wants to have sex. But, hey! It's all good! He's pretty nice when you get past his arrogance.

No.

Not gonna happen.

Instead, he avoided the question. "Why'd you want me to talk to him?"

"Oh, you know…" Takahiro fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Just thought it'd be good for you." Takahiro waited for Misaki to say something, but the boy was silent. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

"Like what?"

"What'd you two talk about?"

"Stuff." Misaki looked away. It's not like he could tell Takahiro what happened. His older brother was a kind, generous man, but he had a narrow view of the world; he probably wouldn't accept it if he knew his friend was gay.

"Oh." Takahiro sighed. "Misaki, won't you talk to me?" He knew that Misaki was a teenager. The boy was bound to be hormonal and moody.

"Sorry. I just… I'm really tired right now. You know, last night I didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Oh…" He suddenly brightened. "I know! Let's do something together! Just us. It'll be like old times!"

Misaki tried to look excited, he really did. He loved his brother, even though he was dense as a wall. He didn't want to hurt his feelings. Besides, some time together might actually be fun.

He nodded and smiled. "That sounds great."

Takahiro clapped. "Great! Next weekend then!" He put his hand to his chin to think. "What should we do?" This was an important decision. He wanted them to be able to talk and communicate on their alone time. "A museum?" Yes, a museum was great. Misaki would really enjoy looking at all the neat artifacts, and it was cheap too!

"Ah… Sure. That sounds fine." Misaki tried to sound excited but he sighed inwardly. A museum? Seriously? Where was the fun in that?

Takahiro sat back in his chair. Although they were going to have bonding time, he still wanted Misaki to talk to Usagi-san some more. The man would be a good influence on him.

"What do you think about meeting more with Usagi-san?"

Misaki bolted up from his seat. "No, no, that's fine." He flapped his hand up and down, waving Takahiro off. "Really, don't worry about me. It'll just inconvenience him."

"Nonsense. He liked you. He told me himself. "

Misaki felt his eyebrow twitch. Of course he would say that.

"And actually," Takahiro continued, scratching his head sheepishly, "I've already talked to him about it. He's coming over in a couple days."

Oh great. More time with the pervert. Just what he needs.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean, I have school and stuff…"

"Only for tomorrow. That's your last day then you go on break for a couple weeks for the holidays."

Misaki racked his brain to come up with another excuse. He couldn't think of one in time.

"I want you guys to get to know each other." He reached out to grab Misaki's hand. "And he really seemed taken to you. Don't worry. And obviously, you like him too, right?"

"Er… yeah. Sure."

"Perfect then!"

A day had passed, and then it was Saturday. The day Usagi-san was coming. All morning, Misaki was shut up in his room. He wasn't doing anything in particular, just thinking. He lay on the bed, he lay sideways on his chair, and he lay on the ground. Unproductive, really, but he couldn't think properly unless he was horizontal.

Usagi-san was coming to see him today. All morning his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing in anticipation. He didn't like how he was affected so much by just the mere thought of him. But he wasn't excited to see him. No, not excited at all. More like terrified.

Yes, terrified. That was it.

Deciding he should at least change out of his pajamas—after all, he couldn't let Usagi-san see him wearing sleep clothes; the perverted man might get ideas— Misaki dragged himself out of his supine position and went to his closet.

He pulled the coat hangers back and forth over the bar a few times, rifling through his options. There wasn't much to choose from; he really didn't have many clothes. Let's see… a brown shirt, a black shirt, a blue shirt… Misaki rejected every color.

Resigned with the fact that he had nothing to wear, Misaki fell back onto his bed. Everything was all faded, anyway. Too many wearings and washings had sapped out all pigment. What was left was a sad imitation of color. He wanted to impress Usagi-san, not show him his exhausted wardrobe.

He sat up on the bed. Why did it even matter what Usagi-san thought of him? It's not like his opinion actually means anything. He didn't like the man. He should be hoping to turn him off.

Takahiro had never been able to afford the newest styles, and Misaki had never cared. If he asked his brother, Misaki knew that he would get new clothes, but they really didn't have the money. It wasn't worth the money, but at that moment Misaki wished that he had at least one nice shirt.

Telling himself that he didn't care, Misaki went over and pulled out a random shirt from his closet.

It's not like it mattered, anyway.

Akihiko got out of the shower and dried off. He wanted to be clean and fresh for Misaki. The boy always smelled so good; he wanted his own body to smell good too.

Walking into his closet, he pulled out one of his dress shirts and buttoned it up his chest. After that came his tie. He wrapped it around his neck and tied the knot. The whole process was so routine that he didn't even need a mirror.

In fact, life as a whole had become too routine. Every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, come home, go to bed. It was all so boring. Absolutely unstimulating.

Then there was Misaki. The boy had burst into his life only a few days ago. And yet, he was already entranced. Akihiko felt as though he needed to know everything about him. He wanted to know what he looked like in the morning, what he ate for breakfast, what made him happy, sad, and worried. He wanted to know what body part he washed first in the shower and what he looked like naked. He wanted to know if the skin on his tender belly and thighs was as soft as he imagined it to be.

The feeling was very intense, almost obsessive. Since they had last parted, Misaki was all Akihiko could think about, the only thing he wanted to think about. Everything else—his career, his reputation, his family— had lost meaning.

But Misaki was something special, something he had to have.

I feel like my writing style has changed a lot for this chapter. I've been told before that the way I write is easy to understand, and now I'm worried that nobody will know what I'm talking about anymore.

If you understood what I was trying to convey with my awkward (but I feel more literary) sentences that are FAR from grammatically correct, please give me reassurance. I like the way I wrote this, but if it's confusing I will go back to my old writing style.