Dedicated to my friends and "family" over at Ange and Neo's Hostile Takeover!
POV Midorima
Kaori refuses to come out of her room, so I must say my farewell through a closed door. Takao waits outside with my bags as I say my goodbyes to my Mom and Dad.
Mom is incredibly proud, and she gives me a lucky charm from the local shrine. Dad laughs and says I don't need it, and I agree, but take it anyway.
"Work hard and do your best," my mom says, and kisses my cheek before fading back into the house to give us some privacy.
"Here." My father shoves a plastic bag into my hand as he looks away, his face red. He pushes his glasses up his nose. I open the bag and see a box of condoms. "You're a large man, my son, take it slow, and make sure you don't hurt him."
"Dad," I choke, and then clear my throat. I push my glasses up my nose. "Don't say such unnecessary things. I would never hurt Takao."
"I know you'd never do it on purpose, but I'm telling you, if that boy comes back here tomorrow with a limp, I'll beat the tar out of you when you come home."
"Dad," I sigh.
"Knowing you, you'll over-think the whole thing, and that wouldn't be good for either of you."
"This won't be the first time dad," I admit to make him stop this absurd pep talk. He cants his head to the left and then grins.
"You cheeky little bastard," he says, and pats me on the back. "I'm not sure if I should be a good father and be appalled, or if I should be an awful father and give you a high-five."
"We're not like you think, Dad. We're different," I say, not wanting to give away too much.
"That's my boy," he whispers as we hug.
On the train ride to Narita Airport Rest House, I shake my head, remembering Dad's parting gift that is now wedged into my pocket.
"Ok, so what's the great joke you're not sharing with me?" Takao asks.
I toss him the package and wait until he looks at me, his eyebrows raised.
"Those are from Dad; he said if you come home with a limp tomorrow, he will beat the tar out of me."
Takao turns very white; he looks like he's going to be sick.
"I will never be able to look him in the eye again," he says. "You didn't even bother to deny it, did you?"
"At least you didn't get 'the talk.' If you'd like to share the details of our sex life with my parents, feel free to do so while I'm gone." It is my time to smirk at him.
We check in to the room, and I let Takao drop the suitcase he is carrying onto the luggage rack before I shove him against the wall, my knee grinding in between his legs. After the split second of surprise fades from his eyes, Takao puts his arms around my neck and pulls himself up to wrap his legs around my waist. He is heavier than he looks, as he is packed with muscle, but I manage to bear up under the extra weight and stagger us over to the king-size western bed.
The original plan - to spend all day in each other's company to the exclusion of all others - hadn't been specific, but when I lower him down onto the mattress, I know that we are unlikely to leave this bed again until I depart sixteen hours from now.
His legs are spread wide, and that makes it easier for me to move between them. I lift the hem of his shirt and trace the lines of his abdominal muscles with my tongue. I've never been this bold before, and chuckles softly. I continue to lift the shirt, one centimeter at a time with excruciating slowness. I want each kiss, each lick, each touch, to be seared into his flesh so that while we are apart, he will continue to feel me there. I want to mark him.
When the shirt is simply in the way, he lifts his upper body and arms, and I pull it off. I kiss the tattoo on his chest just to the right of his left shoulder. It is so strange to see my name inked onto his body. He strokes the matching tattoo on my chest that says his name. They are so new, I worry that I will kiss his ink away, but that is a silly concern. I choose a spot at the center of his breast bone and I kiss him there deeply. I lick the spot and finally suck his flesh into my mouth. He purrs against me. After a few seconds, I release that spot and am rewarded by the dark red bruise that is left behind.
"How am I going to survive six weeks without this?" he moans.
"Tell me not to go, and I promise, I will stay," I say. This is the first time he's allowed me to be intimate without him pulling off my glasses. I can see him clearly, and as I challenge him with my words, I hear resolve in his.
"I want you to go," he says. He doesn't hesitate, not even for a second and this is what makes him so extraordinary. "You are the best Shooting Guard in the world; I want you to prove it. It's only six weeks. I will survive, and when you return, triumphant, your future, our future, will be assured. I know this; I know it better than I know my own name; you will be a professional basketball player."
As I hang over him, the birthstone pendent he bought me swings, reflecting the ruby sparkle. His matching topaz one is resting on his shoulder. I right it, centering it over the mark I've made on his chest.
"Your belief in me will be my Lucky Item."
"Don't forget I packed boxer-briefs in every color so that you can always wear the lucky color of the day."
"Don't enable my obsessions," I grin.
"As long as you continue to be obsessed with me, I don't mind," he says while unbuttoning my shirt.
"Make love to me," I hum, as I rub against him.
POV Takao
The water was the perfect temperature to fall asleep, but with such a short time left, I struggled to keep my eyes open. I settled down with my back against his chest.
Shin-chan finally felt relaxed enough to lean his back against the tub, head lolled to one side. His eyes were heavy and closed. I only knew he was awake because he traced kanji on my arm with long, wet fingers.
"How much longer?" I asked.
"Don't fixate; enjoy the moment. The three separate alarms, and the wake-up call from the front desk, will come soon enough without worrying about them."
"Sorry," I said. Shin-chan kissed my temple. He settled down further, pulling us deeper into the steamy, hot water; he couldn't keep his knees and his feet covered at the same time. He pushed my head to one side with his chin and pressed kisses from ear down to collarbone. His arms wrapped around me, one playing with my nipple and the other sliding down my stomach to stroke me firm.
"I don't know if I can," I gasped.
"Then don't, just enjoy," he said, his voice husky in my ear.
I snuggled down, melting into the touch of his strong left-handed grip. His chin rubbed against the top of my head, and I closed my eyes as my breath became ragged.
"While I'm gone, when you do this for yourself, I want you to picture this. I want you to remember the feeling of my hands on you in this moment."
"Shintarō," I moaned his name.
It is the longest, slowest, sweetest orgasm of my life, and I came with a soft intensity that shuddered through my whole body.
"I've dirtied the water," I said, when organized thought was possible once again. The first of the alarms, my cell phone, chirped at us from the other room. We groaned; then we laughed.
Shin-chan helped me out of the bath, and I turned off the traitorous device. One hour was all we had left. In one hour, the plan was to part at the train station, him moving toward the airport, me returning to his parents.
The next alarm went off with thirty minutes to spare. Shin-chan silenced it as he pulled a sweater over a t-shirt he'd stolen from me. It said "glasses are sexy."
The last alarm and the wake-up call came at the same time. Shin-chan locked his suitcase and we stood their looking at each other. He nodded and I summoned up all my courage to smile.
After dropping the key at registration, we went straight to the station. His train came first and he shouldered his duffle bag and pulled the handled to full extension on the rolling suitcase. Business travelers flowed around us and, for a split second, I saw how much hesitation he was suppressing in those emerald eyes. He wiped all emotion from his face and swallowed.
"Nope, not like that," I said, and reached up and brought his face close to mine. Even in the open, in public, I kissed him like this was our final kiss.
"I love you, Shintarō, now go kick ass."
"I love you too, Kazunari," he whispered into my mouth as the final boarding call came.
"Of course," he smirked in a decent impression of my trademark gesture. He stepped back into the open doors just as they slipped closed.
I rooted my feet to the concrete platform. I would not chase the train like some kind of shōjo heroine, not even a little. I cried, not because he was leaving, but because I had to stay behind.