Some informations about the context I forgot to give. Okay I finished reading the scans so I am looking forward the next ones. Normally – warning, spoilers ! – Yashiro is at hospital and he have, I think, to stay here for a while. Let's pretend he just left the hospital and spent a day at the office, with all the bandages and everything. Meanwhile, Dômeki still has cut his finger – so he's got bandage too. This is the end of their « first day » after the bullet incident.
Oh ! and Rating M again, cause you know, Yashiro and his bad speaking…I'm quite ashamed of writing something that dirty. Beh.
Wonderwall
Dômeki remembered he had heard this word before. Wonderwall. Someone you can't stop thinking about. The person definitely stuck in your mind, stealing your thoughts, your liberty. That was quite the situation right now. Preoccupied, always thinking about the Boss. The Boss's sake, the Boss's satisfaction, the Boss's smile. Always.
Now, this demon was looking at him, and his fingers were tenderly stroking his cheek's skin. All he wanted to do was to blush but he couldn't afford such a humiliating thing in front of the Boss. How could he even want to stay by the Boss's side, now that he was just teasing him so much ? It was cruel – there was no doubt. But it was sweet, and for a second, he just closed his eyes, delightfully enchanted by the touch.
« Too bad you're impotent. »
This voice broke everything. The background, the soft silence, the perfect sensation of his finger on his face. This was the reality's voice, hard and honest, never losing time for what's not worth it. Dômeki had to repress a sigh, incredibly disappointed, and opened his eyes to finally meet the Boss's cold eyes. He was not different as usual – playful, unconcerned, distant but close at the same time. His body was the only thing keeping the contact between Yashiro and the rest of the world, so bland and tasteless, compared to the sweet illusions he loved to imagine. Surely, this sex issue was the link holding him clung to life and its brutality. Being a yakuza wasn't such a thing – it was more like a job, a chore, something to deal with, something to do until the end of the day, another suit to wear in the street, even trapped in a giant but lifeless office's room. Some, by the past few weeks, had told elements of Yashiro's past to the bodyguard. Just to make sure. Or, to intimidate. But he never knew enough, and each question he'd asked to him had been angrily swept away. Then, it had always ended badly : the Boss going away without a word, and him standing alone on the inanimate surface of the Earth. Impotent ? Oh, God. If only he knew… would he be disappointed as well, by him, or just by fate ? Too bad. Dômeki wasn't so sure of these words. He'd rather pretend to be blind and unmoved than to watch this dark magic go away. He know, deep inside, that it would be the end, if Yashiro had the occasion of making him scream of pleasure.
Such a big deal. A fucking big deal.
He was just ridiculously feeling like one of these princesses, unable to love their prince because of the fucking bad and selfish destiny. Fatality.
« Oi, have you lost your tongue ? I knew you were impotent, but dumb… »
Dômeki seemed to blush, but Yashiro was already moving away.
« Hurry up. It's cold outside. I wanna go home.
- Yes, Boss. »
The man walked to the car and got in Dômeki did the same, taking place on the driver's seat. At least, he had the chance to be the Boss's closest subordinate. Physically. Driving him here and there, making sure nobody gets too close, assuring his security. That was the best job he could ever have. Better than police, better than anything being near this beautiful and odd man was a privilege Dômeki didn't want to decline.
He started the car and peeped at the rearview mirror, lying in wait for the next Boss's move. But he stared much too long, and Yashiro cast a glance at him. Dômeki bowed his head, and engaged the car on the road. The streets were loud and overcrowed, way too much noise for such a sad evening. But in this small cockpit, there was only silence, their respective breaths, and the distant din. As much as Dômeki was enjoying this intimacy, he was fearing it.
His relationship with the Boss as not as good as it was before. And he couldn't stop wondering if Yashiro would order him to enter in the flat. Even to stay until the little morning. His stomach knotted at the thought of getting teased by the blond man – he knew he wouldn't resist this time. How long could he pretend ? Aish.
« Does this hurt ?
- You know I like it. But yes, it does. »
The Boss was looking outside the window. Behind, there was blurred, fuzzy silhouettes fading away as the car was progressing. He couldn't escape this time, and, maybe, Dômeki could finally ask some questions – and above all get some answers.
« You should rest a bit.
- That's exactly what I'm going to do tonight. »
Dômeki frowned. It felt like a bittersweet feeling of disappointment.
« I mean, during the day. Maybe it's too early for you to get back to the office.
- Oh, man. All I'm doing all day long is to suck dicks and counting ships. What do you want me to do ? Anyway, I wouldn't be more productive at home. This is so freaking empty. »
There – a window. A window to ask another question.
« Do you want me to stay, tonight ? »
He hold his breath silently. Somehow he didn't want to hear the answer. It was going to be a categoric « noooo, the hell ! » with this horrible tone that was wrecking Dômeki's heart each time. But, surprisingly, he didn't get mad… and he said yes.
« I thought you were used enough to not have to ask. Apparently not. Well, stay. »
Dômeki stayed silent. He wanted him to tell it. He wanted him to tell : « I want you to stay », with this clear and confident voice. He wanted to hear it with his own ears, for real. A part of him was conscient that he wanted it anyway, and telling it by this way or another wouldn't make such a great difference. But, selfish in that moment, Dômeki wanted to be an… exception.
He drove the car 'til Yashiro's flat, parking the vehicle with caution, as always. Yashiro got out of the car without even waiting for him to switch off the ignition. Clumsily getting out of the car at his turn, Dômeki threw a glance at the Boss. Was he angry, or something ? He couldn't tell – but no one could. The Boss was a piece of shadow, disappearing by the first ray of sunshine. He was cold, distant, always keeping his emotional precaution, allergic to human relations which weren't sexual. There was something strange in his eyes. Like, a bit of loneliness, in the middle of a million voices's din, shouting, crying, howling in all directions. Yashiro's face was also so sluggish and bleak, at times – however, the Boss never showed any sign of weakness. Not in front of the subordinates, not in being a yakuza.
The Boss walk to the building and waited for the elevator to come. His expensive jacket over his shoulders, without wearing it nonetheless, he had this overly elegant attitude that attracted the bodyguard so much. More than everything, he wanted to watch – but Yashiro was too clever not to notice it. One time again, it was a risk that Dômeki couldn't take. For his place, for his job – for the only chance he'd have to watch over the Boss.
The flat had this sorrowful smell of friendlessness like, in some way, nobody ever came to this place. Yashiro was so famous – and so lonely at the same time. His personnality didn't seemed to be this much affected by this reclusion, but Dômeki did not agree to the fact that being constantly alone is a good thing. Not only for his mental health. It was about… something else. Something bigger. Sharing something, maybe – or just the idea of a couple floating in his exhausted mind. Yashiro's idea of love was pitiful and completely wretched. What a paltry thing to have sex with everybody without even sharing some love with one of them.
But Dômeki couldn't complain. If the Boss was in love, it would be with Kageyama, something he just couldn't accept. Jealousy, selfishness – whatever the name it had. It was there, in his chest, decided to stay until the very end. And he was trapped in his game, powerless.
« So, started the Boss. Are you going to cook some dinner ? I'm fucking hungry. »
It took a few seconds to understand the order. Yashiro, who was always making innuendos about food and sex, often had difficulties to be heard. More than one time, Dômeki had been humiliated by this dark confusion – and it always was the same way. Him thinking about food the other thinking about sex. Never switching roles. How funny was it, when today, finally, they decided to get each other's place. Yashiro demanded a meal, and Dômeki was craving the Boss's body, which he knew he couldn't have. Torturous, he thought.
The Boss was in dressing gown, sitting on the bed, legs crossed. He still wore his socks but his entire body was naked – and Dômeki remembered this time, when he had been sooo close to lose control. However, Yashiro didn't seem to worry about it. This time, he was silently eating, under the patient and benevolent gaze of Dômeki. Suddenly, he felt like a relative – a father, a big brother, maybe, always taking care – but never getting the same from him. And he didn't want to be a relative anyway, even if would be easier to see him then. He just wanted one thing : to be here. And never go away.
« Are you going to watch me eating until I finished ? That's freaking creepy. You look like a dead body still standing on the ground. Look away ! » he whizzed, grumpy.
The Boss was definitely in a kind of bad mood. The perfidious thought of it being all his fault crossed his mind. Was it really is fault ? Well, he had to know.
« Is there something wrong ?
- Nah, I just want to eat without having the impression of being in front of a sociopath. »
How funny. Between the two of them, the most likely to be a sociopath was obviously Yashiro. However, Dômeki didn't reply – until he tried once again.
« But, really. You don't seem very well. »
This time, as Dômeki was frowning, the Boss stopped eating and slowly put his bowl on the ground. Still sitting on the bed, in front of his subordinate, it was the exact position as last time, when he gave him the Tiger shirt and laughed at him. That was the time when Dômeki felt something was wrong. Something, there, in him, moving, getting warmer. Yashiro's head on his thigh, and then, Dômeki's sex story timidly told.
Today, Yashiro didn't lay on his bodyguard. But worst : he got closer, finally sitting at less than fifteen centimeters from him. Their faces were so close that Dômeki could feel the Boss's breath stroking his nose. He just couldn't make a move. That was too dangerous, too risky – and impossible, anyway. He was totally freaking out. The Boss was playing again, and he didn't know if this time, he could lie to get control back. The worst wasn't to lie, but to let the Boss think that he was completely impotent and indifferent. That was so far from the truth, right now. All he wanted was all he couldn't ever have. Yashiro was nobody's friend, nobody's lover he was just a mind and a body separated one from the other, but living together as well. Yes, Yashiro was someone special. And he sure would change attitude if Dômeki did.
« I hope you're not about to cry. I hate seeing people cry. This is just too lame. »
He didn't answered, terrified. The Boss's hand was already running along his right leg.
« You are. You're lame and ridiculous, you're humiliating me each second passing by. But you're cute – so I forgive you. »
And just to achieve him, he smiled. Dômeki, who was biting his inner cheek to keep control of himself, was free again. And just as fast as he could notice, the Boss's hand got away from his leg, as if a secret had been told and Yashiro went to the bathroom without a word, and locked the door, leaving the other speechless once again.